#like maybe slower then tails
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angelicdudles · 5 days ago
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tropicalcontinental · 5 months ago
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#digital art#tropical's art#art#cw eyestrain#eye strain#rain world#rw slugcat oc#I decided to make the neon green and red slugcat an actual fusion between a latern mouse and a slugcat#Also Jace but slug cat#The other guy was still made by Two Sided Coin in an attempt to recreate themself as another organism#Though I wonder if any other animal in rain world can be modified#I reckon they can#But since slugcats were originally purposed to clean out iterators and other organisms can't easily travel through their superstructures#Genetically modified slugcats are the most efficient way to transfer messages through secret means (like spearmaster)#So makes sense there aren't any other modified animals unless it's a slugcat#But Two Sided Coin is having fun so they're able to make whatever they want#Including random fusions#Though I wonder if they're limited on making what creatures they want#Since if it's a scavenger or lizard#It can't really leave their superstructure#So slugcats and their fusions are mainly what they do unless they somehow found a work around#As for the slugcat!Jace? Idk he's just there adventuring out (his frills are just for show I suppose)#Bulkier than your average slugcat having a similar gimmick to gourmand with the bodyslamming and the added ability of mauling too#but as a trade off he's probably slower and less flexible#As for neon green it's a lot faster but not as fast as rivulet#I like to think it can flash any predators with a burst of neon green and red light to stun them#It's coat gets a lot duller as a result and it gets brighter until it's back to being a walking eyesore#It can also grapple with its tail and also glows thanks to being part latern mouse#I mentioned it was poisonous so maybe this is just the super easy mode of rain world since nothing wants to try and eat it#But that's no fun so it just looks poisonous
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habizuh-supports · 10 months ago
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what the fuck you cant DO THIS TO ME!??!?!?
"I wanna fly high…”
Sonic doesn't remember when was the first time he caught Tails singing this melody or where the kit picked it up from but what he does know is that whenever the hedgehog sung it in a hushed tone — in soft murmurs to match the steady breathing of the fox cub in his arms  cuddled close to his chest — it will be enough to put him to sleep.
He can't deny that catching Tails singing it to himself while tinkering alone in his workshop is cute and all, especially when he catches him dancing and the kit gets a little embarrassed afterwards and Sonic has to tell him it's nothing to worry about, but there's just something different about the nights when his baby brother just couldn't sleep, whether it be nightmares or thunderstorms or simply insomnia plaguing his cunning little fox brain, when he shyly tiptoes to Sonic in the dead of the night whenever the hedgehog decides to crash in his place and, with a quiet request, climbs onto his chest as Sonic holds him close. He scritches the back of his ear as his free hand brushes through the golden fur on the kit's back, both of their hushed breathing and soft heartbeats combining to make the melody even more peaceful.
To Tails, it was simply always more peaceful when it was Sonic's voice singing it.
It was never about the melody, about the song, about the lyrics. Just his big brother's voice.
Calm, soothing, safe.
"So I can reach the highest of all the heavens..." Sonic shifts a bit, just to give his sleeping arm some movement before he drapes it over the small of Tails’ back, the kit snuggling into the crook of his neck in return. Tails hums, content with his place atop the hedgehog's chest, listening to his (steady?) heartbeat as he wraps his twin tails around the both of them to provide enough warmth to fight off the cold that isn't necessarily the weather's fault this time. 
Just their own bodies failing to generate enough heat for comfort.
"Somebody will be waiting for me,” Sonic tries his very best to ignore the blood on his hands, the blood tainting his baby brother's chest and his own through the contact as well. He doesn't want to open his eyes, he doesn't want to see the red when he can pretend he's simply lulling Tails to sleep on a cold winter night and not to a slumber he might never wake up from. “So I-I have gotta fly higher..."
Tails purrs in his hold, secure and Sonic doesn't want anything else. He can't ask for anything else — well, he can. He can ask for a life that's going to be snatched away from his arms way too soon, for years yet to come, for wanting to see the boy in his arms grow up, for his bright smiles, for the wafting scent of breakfast in workshop he's returning to after a morning run, for a little more time, for home.
But Sonic doesn't ask for it. 
He's already using all of his leftover energy to stay awake just long enough for Tails to go first.
He doesn't want Tails to be alone, he doesn't want him to be scared, hurt and terrified in Sonic's arms who won't get up no matter how many times he begs every deity out there — Sonic doesn't want that. So he'll stay. Just long enough for Tails.
"Gotta keep goin'... Everything is a brand new challenge for me," If a tear rolls down Sonic's muzzle, he doesn't regard it. If anything it's hidden from sight when he lowers his head just enough to plant a soft parting kiss on top of Tails’ head. 
He continues with his lips still hovering above the boy's soft golden fur, "I will believe in myself..."
He can't feel his hands anymore, he doesn't know if he's still petting Tails. He doesn't want them to stop, his baby brother needs all the comfort he can offer to him right now. 
“This is only the start…”
His voice betrays him next.
Within moments, the world goes numb.
Sonic doesn't know which one of them went first.
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docdudo · 2 months ago
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Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 6)
It was getting colder, the days shorter, the nights longer... which meant, you were now stuck with John and Simon buying clothes.
You all ate relatively quickly before that, considering you barely munched in a small burger and fries before giving all the rest to Simon, and soon enough, you were all in a children's clothing store.
You insisted that you didn't really need many clothes, maybe just a jacket, since you didn't have one, and going out without a jacket in this temperature is pratically a death sentence for a human.
So, at first, you did agree to buying clothes, they did seem worried too, so you figured, why not?
But at this point, as you watched them get way more than you first imagined, you were starting to panick a bit.
"I-I really don't need that many, r-really...!"
"There's no way we are letting you out when it's getting close to snowing without proper winter clothing." John huffs slightly, his voice sounding rough this way. "I know how delicate humans are to the weather, you need gloves, thick socks, beanies, warm jackets, pantyhoses..." He lists casually, not even looking your direction as he goes through the toddler's section of the clothing store.
You could only feel yourself being gently bounced on Simon's arms as he tries to reason with you.
"We do have a few clothes from our kids' younger years. But it's not that many, and we don't have socks, or gloves, or beanies, this small anymore."
You frown a bit in nervousness, not sure about all this, but there's little you could do against the stubborness of a dragon.
"Okay, this should be enough." John smiles, taking the bag of clothing to the cash register.
You sigh a little, tiredly leaning against Simon. You got used to him carrying you around, considering he has been doing this for a few hours without tiring at all.
And you also got used to the stares people threw your way... and the coos and aww's too....
But at this point, you were tired. So freaking tired. You weren't one to usually go out, like, ever. So, here you were, drooping slightly against Simon, your breathing getting slower.
"I know, I know, we're going back after this." Simon murmured close to your ear, adjusting your position on his arms so you could lean more against his chest and shoulder, a heavy, giant hand rubbing against your small back.
"Mhm... why... why didn't... the others come too...?" You mumble softly, not managing to contain yout curiosity any longer as you watched John pay for the clothes a few feet away.
"Johnny and Kyle are making last minute adjustments to the house." Simon answers simply, even tho you clearly had a confused expression on your face now.
"Adjustments....?"
"Just some simple stuff. Do you remember how you had to use a car seat to get here due to your height? We got the car seat before, but we still had to do some repairs around the house to be a better fit to your size."
"T-That's... Ah... o-okay..." You nod quietly, not knowing what to say to that.
Tho, you were pretty curious to know what kind of adjustments they did around the house.
"Ready to go?" John asks as he comes back close to you.
"Yeah. The kid's tired." Simon nods easily, already starting to make his way back to the parking lot, John right behind him.
"Of course they are. Let's hurry home then."
After waking up, strapped to the car seat as you felt the car come to a stop, John gently unbuckled you and set your feet on the ground, pushing you softly so you could go into the direction of the entrance, where both Johnny and Kyle were already waiting for you.
"Wee lass, come 'ere!!" Johnny smiles excitedly, only to scoop you up from the ground as soon as you got close enough.
It seems he couldn't hold his instincts in any longer. But... that's okay, considering you were in Simon's arms just some time ago.
Johnny immediatly started to nuzzle into you, taking you inside the house as his tail wagged behind him easily.
"Do ya wanna play with me, pup?" He asks, soft, but excited at the same time.
"They're tired, Johnny." Simon says as goes inside, giving a kiss to Kyle as they pass by eachother, John coming right behind with the things they bought. "Put them to nap a lil'."
Johnny pouts a little, ears pressing down and tail stopping.
"I really wanted to play with the pup..." He almost whines, holding you closer to him.
He felt so damn warm...
"Tav, remember when we had the babies for the first time?" Kyle comments, a soft smile on his face. "Imagine it's like that once again. No playing yet."
"Aye, aye." He sighs, and you try to contain a blush at how they talked about you like you weren't even there. "Time to sleep, yeah, pup? Maybe a bit of cuddles?" The hand that wasn't holding you against him goes to your wrist as he gently pushed his hand under your sweater sleeve, frowning a bit as he felt that you were indeed a bit cold. "Yeah, cuddles, pup. Warm yah right up, yeah?"
He was murmuring softly like he was deep in his instincts, that damn babyish talk coming out once again as the werewolf walked easily all the way back to your room and went inside, closing the door behind him, not bothering to turn on the lights.
"Need warm clothes now, saw that John got you some, very good..." He mumbled like he wasn't even talking to you, affected by his protective instincts. "Gloves, and a wool beanie, wee pup... all bundled up, and warm... let's get warm, yeah? Let's lay down, here..."
And he took you straight to the middle of the room, where the nest carved into the ground was. He didn't even hesitate as he simply threw himself onto the soft blankets and pillows, laying against them confortably and immedaitly putting you against his warm side, tucked between his chest and arm, pulling a blanket to tuck you in gently.
You could barely process what was happening, but you let him, actually feeling... confortable. It was warm, he was warm, and the weird nest thing was definetly soft. And you were tired... so tired, you spend a long time out of the house...
It wasn't a surprise that you fell asleep quickly against him, swearing that you could hear some kind of weird noise and fell some kind of weird vibration by your side. Do werewolves purr?
Well, you could always search later. Right now, you were busy napping against the big and warm werewolf, who thrilled and cooed happily at you.
Part 5 / Part 7
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sh1-n0bu · 1 year ago
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𝔫𝔬𝔟𝔲’𝔰 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 2023!
day 2: multiple orgasm with zhongli from genshin impact
warning: multiple orgasm, dragon biology so two cocks<3, dacryphillia, overstimulation, handjob
notes: is it weird when the blade fic is longer than this one?
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“UUNGH—! mmph!! l-love.. love please! slower! c-can’t—nyyAAMP♡︎!“ shaking his head ‘no’ over and over again, the funeral parlor consultant who’s known and praised for being able to keep his cool at all times, pleads as he comes on your hand again.
beloved by others for always being so cool headed and yet here he was, thighs trembling as he tries to close his legs to spare himself from this continued torture. it felt good at the beginning. your soft hand working his two cocks out of his vent, slowly working on them, hands gently wrapped around the two hardened arousals as you whisper sweet nothings into his ear.
yet something flipped in you when he first soiled your hand with his seeds as he sobs quietly. he saw it. how your eyes darkened just for a little bit, a soft chuckle ringing in his ears as his golden eyes slip tears.
since then, you’ve wrung orgasm after orgasm after, making him sob deliriously. he felt so sensitive. his two cocks were already so spent, he can’t keep going. he can’t keep cumming again, he’s gonna shoot blanks!
that’s what he sobs as his hand weakly pushes yours away, only to arch his back off of the bed so prettily as he comes for the nth time again that night. that’s what he sobs as his two cocks get hardened again as your hands leave his hard-on, almost as if his body was desperate to feel your hands wrapped around him. that’s what he sobs as his hips subconsciously push against yours.
dear geo archon, can’t even properly communicate what he wants and desires. instead opting to pathetically hump his ass on your crotch.
“l-love! puh! gcckk♡︎ a minute! just… just a minute” zhongli begs softly, pushing your hands off of his hardened cocks yet again. deciding to let him get at least a minute of break to catch his breath, you trail your hands to rest on the insides of his thighs. or to stop the violent trembling of his legs. or maybe even to wipe away the fat globs of tears on his cheeks.
either way, the dragon archon looked like a complete mess. who would have ever thought that a mere mortal could reduce such a being to tears by simply giving him a handjob? only him and you, of course. by now, you have learned almost everything about your draconic lover. he could easily get hard if you were to tease him right.
a hand ghosting over his chest, a slight squeeze to his soft ass cheeks, kneading the plush muscle and making a spreading motion with them. he blushes so cutely whenever you do that, wiggling his hips and pushing his ass towards your hand as if asking you to finger him right then and there wherever you two may be.
or maybe even whisper a simple praise to his ear when you go out on a grocery run together. a soft, “you’re such a good boy, zhongli” got him start flushing beet red.
perhaps a soft hand rubbing over the lower of his back gently over his fancy gold lined tailcoat. others would see it as a simple loving gesture. how you were massaging your lover’s back and helping him. but you and zhongli knows. that part is where his tail would usually be if he were to reveal them. the place where his tail would connect to his skin. one of his erogen zones.
“one minute time’s up, dear~” he hears you call out in a sing-song manner, right before he feels your hands return to their favorite places wrapped snuggly and tightly around his shafts.
before he could even brokenly shake his head and ask for a minute or two more, your hands continue their torture. slow, yet deep going hand strokes and how you tighten the hold on his two cocks like you’re trying to suffocate him. the previous many orgasms wrung out of him makes things easy, becoming a natural lubricant. slow yet deep. agonizing pleasure that he loves so much.
at one point, when zhongli bucks his hips into the closed fists of your hands with an embarrassingly high-pitched whine, he mistakes your hands for flesh-lights sucking them in. you’ve tried it with him before. leaving his hands tied up as you propped his legs open before engulfing his two cocks in flesh-lights. he made such a mess that day.
perhaps he should’ve realized then and there that you love seeing him lose himself to absolute debauchery. how his tears roll down, smudging his usually perfectly done red eyeliner, stumbling over his words, trying to plead for mercy.
just like right now.
even if he tries to close his legs, push your hands away or deliriously sobs ‘no!’s and ‘please!’s over and over, he never safeworded. because you know and deep down he knows as well. dragons are greedy creatures after all.
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machveil · 1 month ago
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I’m kinda obsessed with your guard dog Simon x puppy reader😭how does Simon punish reader when he thinks she’s being naughty or not listening to his orders?? 😩
you know what, I’m also obsessed with GuardDog!Simon Riley x Puppy!Reader low-key high-key
CW: slight oral fixation, suggestive
GuardDog!Simon Riley doesn’t dish out punishments too often, he knows puppies get excited sometimes, wander off without batting an eye. when you leave his side he knows, cold gaze always following you, he waits for a moment before tailing after you. he likes to see if you’ll notice that you’ve walked away from him, and when you do he likes seeing you scramble back to his side. if you keep wandering away from him, on purpose or by accident, Simon will slip his arm around your neck. beefy bicep and strong forearm acting like a collar, making sure you stay with him
GuardDog!Simon Riley won’t do anything to embarrass you in public, but he isn’t afraid to lightly reprimand you. if you tease him for too long, a little too much, his chest will rumble - a deep, gravelly warning hum to knock it off. Simon doesn’t give you orders often, he’s more than pleased to follow your commands, but when you ignore his grumbled ‘quit it’? maybe, he thinks, it’s because his little puppy needs attention. he hasn’t been neglecting you, has he? surely not, he’s been by your side this entire trip, he’s kept you tucked against his side as you walked. but giving you a little attention wouldn’t hurt
GuardDog!Simon Riley who leads you to a quiet corner of the mall you’re in - a neglected hallway with benches and a humming vending machine. he’ll sit with his back to the hallway entrance, blocking the view of the outside world from you. just you and your mutt. it’s not a real punishment, he wouldn’t do that to you in the open, but this is good enough for now. “Open.”, voice low, he hums when you pout, seemingly trying to play indifferent. he likes the way your shoulders slope when he gently grabs your chin, thumb resting on your lip, “Open, pup?”. a gentler tone, one that has you breathing a little slower, opening your mouth for him slightly
a little attention, something to get your act together. GuardDog!Simon Riley who pushes his index and middle finger into your mouth, lets you dumbly suck on them while he pets your hair. easy to please, it always makes his heart squeeze when your eyelids droop, lashes fluttering as you melt. he doesn’t care if drool and spit run down his hand, Simon just watches over you - like a good dog should. his pretty little puppy, whining when Simon mumbles ‘release’. but you’re finally listening to him again, pulling off his fingers with spit slick lips. it always works in his favor, having you relaxed and little dumb. it makes it easier for him to keep you by his side, or walking in front of him to hide the tent in his pants
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CW: Fem!Reader, Simon being a little condescending, ‘pup’ and ‘good girl’, fingering, overstimulation, orgasm denial
GuardDog!Simon Riley who gets you into bed when you get home. he doesn’t want to hurt his precious little pup, spanking you wouldn’t feel right to him. no, Simon bends you over his lap for a different reason. “Can’t protect you if ya keep runnin’ off.”, voice low and raspy, he smoothes his hand over your plush ass, tutting when you squirm. just a little training, something to get you to behave next time you go out with Simon. spitting on his fingers, he hums, “Good pups listen, yeah?”. his free hand is running through your hair, gently scratching your scalp as his middle finger dips into your cunt
he’s not being mean, he’s just trying to help you! good girls who listen get to come. he shushes you when you whine and moan a little too loud, presses your face against his sheets as he bullies his index finger into your heat, “I know, feels so good.”. it makes your brain melt, eyes screw shut - how softly he pets your hair and murmurs to you, how his fingers blur a bit from how fast he’s pumping into you. on the verge of sweet bliss when he pulls his hand away, sends you spiraling with a cry, “No.”. a low, rumbled command. he knows you’re smart, can do a trick for him, “Count.”
every time he denies you, you sob out another number - starting over when you lose track. thighs a slick mess as he abuses your poor cunt, stopping short of you orgasm for the umpteenth time, “Good, bein’ so pretty f’me. How many was tha’, pup?”. and when you finally blubber out ‘ten’ - even though that’s not a completely accurate count after hours of messing up - he feels pride warm his chest. “Good girl, can my dumb puppy beg?”, he can’t help the way his cock chubs up, achingly hard when you plead with him. a good guard dog makes sure you’re safe and sound, so Simon holds you close as he fucks his fingers into you, thumbing at your clit as you’re finally allowed release, “Don’t go runnin’ off again, got it?”
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princeguri66 · 10 months ago
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Leave a mark
MINORS DNI
Monster!John "Soap" Mactavish (with Poly Monster!141 at the end) x Male Reader
Cw: it starts off with Soap but the rest r mentioned and written but not as much as soap, marking with markers, nothing else I believe lmk
Silly thought but like imagine a monster reader who has crazy fast regeneration. Like deep cuts heal in seconds. Maybe you're a ghoul who just has crazy regen, or something like that.
Anyways,
Wouldn't a relationship between Soap, who loves leaving bites and see the aftermath due to his instincts as a werewolf and you who literally heals in seconds be interesting?
He loves getting fucked by you, but everytime he leaves a bit unsatisfied. It's not because you can't make him cum or anything, hell you can pull multiple orgasms from the guy and you have.
It's just that he can't leave satisfied knowing that he left a mark on you. He has bit you so much but the marks just won't stay. With the other members he can clearly see the marks he left on their neck and shoulders, even with Price who due to his dragon blood heals faster but the marks still stay for a day or two.
So everytime you two fuck, even if his ass if filled to the brim and his balls are empty he still whines because he can't leave his mark on you. You're a member of the 141, his pack, so it pains him that he can't put a claim on you like he has with the others.
So one day you get a bit creative.
One night in your room where he's riding on your cock, bouncing up and down while you lay your back on the bed, your hands gripping his hips and slamming him down on you as you cum. He leans down and bites as hard as he can on you as the feeling of you filling him up makes him cum. Pulling away and only being able to whine because he can't even admire his mark before it fades away.
"Aw, is puppy unsatisfied?" You tease and chuckle. And before he could insist that he was, you reached to the bedside table and picked up a red permanent marker, "why don't you mark me with this instead?" You say handing him the marker.
He huffs out a laugh at your little solution, but it's the best you got since you can't really make yourself regenerate slower. So he indulges, testing the marker on the back of your hand, the ink incredibly opaque so it stands out against your skin. Then he draws a bite mark at your neck then adds "Soap's Claim" in big letters, covering the whole left side of your neck.
He leans back, the bright red against your skin and the obvious letters, he finally sighs a sigh of relief.
It doesn't go unnoticed as well (just how he likes it)
The other members of the task force noticing Soap's eyes seem a bit brighter and his tail has been swaying peacefully the whole day. And that's where you enter, neck bare for everyone to see (it's the least you can do) Soap grins, happy to finally be able to show off his claim on you.
And now they want to have their names on your body too.
It's all color coordinated too now, Price who loves to write across your shoulder blades, with words like "Price's hoard" or just a simple "Price" with a heart next to it, it's simple but huge.
Gaz with a bright blue marker who likes to do it on your lower back (because he can also rest his head on your ass) writing something like "Gaz was here" and likes to draw wings on you. (Wing themed tramp stamp with 141 between the wings anyone?)
And Ghost with either white or black who loves to mark your chest, either a simple "ghost" or "Simon Riley" on each pec. Also likes to draw a ghost doodle on top of your heart.
And if you five fuck together, you aren't the only one who ends up having ink on you, but you'd have the most. And when you wake up to find a big arrow pointing to your dick and ass that says "Property of 141" written in multiple colors, you'd wish you could show it off.
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mell0wjello · 4 months ago
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𝓣𝓦𝓢𝓣 !𝓝𝓢𝓕𝓦! 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼 !
~~~~~~
DNI If you’re uncomfortable with these topics !
𝓞𝓬𝓽𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓮 𝓿𝓮𝓻 !
~~~~~~
𝒜𝓏𝓊𝓁 𝒜𝓈𝒽𝑒𝓃����𝓇���𝓉𝓉𝑜
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he cums ink. salty and fishy taste. very hard to get the stain off.
Usually tops but he's very vocal
I think it would be funny if he pulled out a consent form each time you guys were getting hot
Very big on safewords. He wants to make sure you're ok
Azul needs to hold your hands throughout to feel you hold him back, making him feel so safe in such an intimate setting
Slower but deeper thrusting
Honestly I feel that underneath everything, he's a very romantic person. He really understands that this should be a pleasurable experience for you both.
I feel that he's definitely a setting-the-mood person. He'd light candles, turn the lights down low, and maybe even play a little bit of music
It would take trust and time for Azul to let you show him his merform, let alone let you touch him in it. However, it'll feel much better for him when you do.
He puts his tentacles to good use. He can give you stimuli in 9 different ways now. Seeing you enjoy makes him so grateful and happy, he can't help but enjoy it too.
𝒥𝒶𝒹𝑒 𝐿𝑒𝑒𝒸𝒽
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He’d be so cruel and unfair
He’d grab you by the hair and choke you down on his length just to hear you struggling to take on his size
He’d have you ride him, even though he knows you’ll struggle and need his help
He'll be praising your efforts with that sadistic smile of his
Jade can be very gentle with you, praising you for your hard work, and very rough too, pulling your hair when you whine too much.
Merman cum is different from human cum. It's slimier and has a clearer transparency, kind of like gelatin. It's usually deeper blue, but Jade's a little lighter.
Jade likes tying you up shibari style, and he's also become quite skilled at it with experience. Bondage is normally something that's usually done in his merform, so he loves bringing it to his human form too.
Jade still isn't quite accustomed to human clothing, so it's still a bit uncomfortable and unusual for him. When the both of you are alone he'll often take something off
Jade has a bit of an oral fixation. He's obsessed with seeing your mouth full and working.
Jade is not quiet, but he's not exactly vocal. If he's not praising or talking to you, it'll often be small sounds.
𝐹𝓁𝑜𝓎𝒹 𝐿𝑒𝑒𝒸𝒽
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He changes positions so often. In between and in the middle of rounds.
Drive depends on his mood, so it fluctuates greatly
Size kink. Especially in his merform, it’d turn him on so much to see how tiny you were compared to him.
Kinkiest mf ever. He’ll be down for quite literally anything as long as he’s in the mood
I feel like he'd fixate on specific kinks or fetishes for like, a week, and completely forget about them afterwards until his new obsession
He's a switch, but he prefers domming most of the time
He’d shave this week and forget the next
Salty and bitter with a thicker consistency
In his merform, Floyd wraps his tail on anything he can. Your legs, your waist, in the right position he could even go for your neck.
Floyd can get real chatty when he's close. He'll go on about anything just for the sake of it
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fieldofdaisiies · 5 months ago
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A Bargain
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paring: Azriel x Reader | type: angst | words: 2,2k | warnings: this story explores a little darker themes like the loss of eyesight due to fire. thank you so much for beta reading @moonlightazriel me helping me get back into x reader writing💛
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Fire. Nothing but unbearable heat and blinding light, like icy spikes piercing your skin. The brightness was overwhelming until everything went dark. Blank. Plain. No colour. No shape. No figure. Only darkness. And deafening silence.
>>>>>>>>>>>>
Your fingers start to tremble around the book the moment a soft breeze brushes your legs and tells you that somewhere in the Library a door was opened. Your senses, touch, hearing and scent, have sharpened once you‘ve lost your eyesight and you are immediately alerted that someone is here. In your personal space, in your sanctuary, at this time. During the night!
You draw in a deep inhale, move your feet apart so you stand in stance. Your fingers curl into a fist  and then–
“Who is there?” you find yourself asking despite the unease brewing inside of you. You know that no one who could cause harm could technically enter this place, but still you always want to know who is close. Who is coming, so you can prepare yourself. Brace yourself.
Fear is rising within you because whoever is nearing you has loud footsteps — it is a male most definitely and if there is one thing in this world you almost fear as much as fire it is men. You try to steady yourself, listening closer, trying to make out if the steps sound familiar (if they belong to the general of the Illyrian armies) but they don’t. He walks slower, and his boots have a different sound when they pad over the library floor. It must be someone else and you—
Someone nears you and the words to ask again who it is die in your throat that suddenly seems so dry. You turn your front to the shelf, hoping to maybe go unnoticed, but the Mother doesn’t hear your prayers. A person halts next to you and you flinch, sucking in a sharp breath of air. Your body is trembling as you press against the shelf, grinding your teeth so hard your jaw starts to ache.
Your throat works on a swallow and some more silent prayers leave you that whoever is close just walks by and—
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” a gentle male voice says, interrupting the tense silence. The air whooshes out of your lungs, your blood chilling because you know there is no escaping now that he has seen you. But somehow, all worry and fear seems to dissipate when he speaks up again. He has no brutal voice, there is nothing harsh or hard in it – it sounds melodic. Almost like the voice of a singer. “I apologise, I really didn’t mean to scare you. I had no idea someone was still around at this time.”
You hesitate before you turn around or give the stranger an answer, but something soft, almost like a feather, brushes your lower arm. It is nothing more than a breath, like a cloud, it may be—
A shadow. And it is soothing and gives you a feeling of comfort. You have felt it before, shadows, like a cat's tail brushing your legs.
“You are the Shadowsinger, right?” Slowly, you turn to him, remembering Gwyn’s stories about the male with the dancing shadows around him who is training her now and who has sometimes come down here to collect books. You should have remembered his footsteps!
“I am a shadowsinger, yes,” the male says, “but you can call me—” His voice cuts off momentarily. And you know what he has realised. His eyes have probably landed on yours and he realised that you can‘t see. That you are blind. And that since the fateful day almost a decade ago.
“Azriel,” he eventually finishes, finally having found his words to continue.
You inhale a deep breath, and say, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Azriel. I am Y/N.” A smile appears on your lips. “How can I help you?”
"I am here to pick up some books Gwyn suggested to me." The shadowsinger keeps his polite distance, you can feel that, his stance broad but not intimidating and you are thankful for that. Despite his kind aura, he is still a male, a stranger, and you always have to be careful. You can’t ever risk anything again. Never again.
“Gwyn said I would find them somewhere around here, but I truly have no idea where I should start to look.”
A grin tugs at the corners of your lips at the mention of her name. Gwyn is your closest friend down here and you love her like a little sister. "She is very fond of you, Shadowsinger,” you say, voice tinged with admiration.
You can’t see the smile appearing on Azriel’s face but you can feel it, how his heart is filled with relief and joy at your revelation.
"She is quite talented," Azriel comments.
"And beautiful…" Your voice almost gains a dreamy touch, and you place the book you have been holding the entire time back on the shelf. Azriel doesn’t say anything, and you know where his thoughts have gone to.
"My eyes may no longer be able to see, Shadowsinger, but my heart can. And that’s how I know that the priestess is beautiful - she has a soul of pure gold."
"I think she isn’t the only one down here who this applies to." This time he takes a small step forward, only a little, while trying to calm his vividly swirling shadows. You can feel them brush against you and his scent fills your nostrils - cedar and night-chilled mist.
They try to stretch out while he tries as hard as he can to hold them close.
"Are you talking about Merrill?" A little mischievous giggle leaves you right after you say her name and it even draws a chuckle from Azriel. The sound is wonderful, rich and deep, beautiful.
"I think you know exactly who I am talking about." 
You feel how a blush warms your cheeks and quickly avert your gaze. "Which books do you need?"
He tells you which ones he is looking for, speaking slowly, and in his wonderful, deep voice. You know immediately where to find them all, having memorised every small detail of the Library,
“Follow me.” You set out with a smile, waving at him to come and follow you. You have ventured through the corridors filled with hundreds of bookshelves and thousands of books many times and know exactly where and when you have to turn.
You can’t see it but you feel his curiosity, his slight astonishment about you and it makes you giggle. You walk swiftly, your robes swishing over the floor when you turn one corner after the other and finally arrive at your first destination. Your fingers trail over the backs of the books, touching and feeling the binding until you grab two books and hand them to him.
The next ones are on a lower floor and the last one even lower. 
“Why are you here at this time of the day?” you find yourself asking him, walking down a narrow corridor. You have come to like narrower space because they make you feel more secure than wide, open spaces. “Or rather night, Shadowsinger.” 
“I could ask you the same - why are you awake at this time?” You can hear the amusement in his voice about your little bantering, and a smile appears on your face, but fades when you start to answer. “It is calmer at night - no rustling pages, no shuffling feet, no hushed conversation. I can focus easier during this time of the day.”
“That’s understandable,” Azriel hums, “that’s partly why I prefer night over day. No rushing, loud people, no bright lights, no— I am so sorry. I didn‘t mean to—”
“Don’t apologise. You can see and you are allowed to be affected by light. It can be too much, I know this, I used to be able to see it once too.”
“I still should be more careful with my words.”
“I don’t want you to be. I want you to be yourself. You are a polite male and I am not made of glass. I don’t break so easily, so please, speak your mind.” You hand him a book from a shelf, after letting your fingers trail over the spine to make sure it is the right one. “I have always preferred night over day. The people are more relaxed, nothing is rushing them and they are not so loud.”
“I understand. I prefer it when it is calm too.”
“Unless there is music. Have you heard Gwyn sing?”
“I have,” he says with fondness.
“And do you sing too? You are a shadowsinger.”
There is a pause and you worry he won’t answer at all, but—
“I do. Sometimes. Only when I am alone.”
You hum in answer, not wanting to push him to sing for you although you are dying to hear it. It must be wonderful with his deep tenor and his velvety voice.
“Is there a chance one can hear one day?” Your lips quirk into a bright grin.
“No, but maybe one day in the far far future.” He blows out a long breath. “Now I have a question for you.” 
You brace yourself, lifting your chin to face his face, making out nothing but blurry surroundings. You would love to reach out to trace his face, his shoulders, to feel what he looks like and try to picture him in your mind.
“Would you like to join the other priestesses, Cassian and me for training one day?”
Your heart slams to a halt, pondering. Somehow you would love it — leave this pöace for once, but training? You hesitate, the word yes burning on your tongue, but you swallow it down. It would be useless. There would be nothing you could do and you would only make a fool out of you. So instead of agreeing, you curtly shake your head and take a step back. “A kind offer, but I must decline.”
“Because of—”
“Yes, Azriel. Because of my eyes. I can’t see, which means I can’t train.”
“That’s not true. Yes, you can’t see, but for training you don’t only need your eyes. Let me put together some exercises and in return you join us for the next training. I can prove to you that you are just as capable at training and fighting as the others are.”
“Is this a promise?”
“We can make a bargain if you like.” There is a hint of amusement in his voice that makes a silly, little grin appear on your lips and erase the former worry etched upon your features. You reach out your hand. 
“A bargain it is - I‘ll join you for training, and in return you will sing for me.”
There is a pause and for a moment you worry that he won’t agree. That it was a silly idea and he will be offended and just leave it. You don’t want whatever has started between you here not to end already. You want to—
“I accept.” Azriel also extends his hand and the moment your palms touch, lightning zips between your hands. It runs throughout your entire body, but it is not the only thing you can feel. There are scars. Scars that adorn his palms, most definitely his whole hands and your heart cracks. What has been down to him? How did he get them?
Your thoughts are swiftly cut off when lightning zips between your palms and then you feel it, like a warm and thin strap something curls around your upper arm and you know it, the legends are true — when you make a bargain you‘ll receive a tattoo as a testament of it.
Azriel has fallen silent the moment your hands part and you wonder if he is examining the tattoo. You wish you could see it, know what it looks like, and admire it.
“Let me describe it to you,” Azriel starts, and then you feel how he gently takes your arm, lifting it slightly. “It‘s a thin silver band around your upper arm, almost invisible, and where the two ends meet there are three small stars. The first is slightly larger than the second and the third one is the biggest.” He strokes his thumb over your arm, a natural action he probably doesn’t even notice but your hair starts to stand on end.
“Mine is almost identical to yours. It is in the same place. Only that the band looks slightly broader.”
“I think I would love it if I could see it.”
“I am sure you would.” You can hear the smile in his voice and return the gesture. “I love it.”
So can hear him shift, moving a step away from you. “I think we should both sleep now, Y/N, but I‘ll see you tomorrow for training. I‘m sure Gwyn can lend you something to wear if you only have your robes.”
“I will ask her.” You pull your lower lip between your teeth when nervousness about the following day starts to trickle in.
“Perfect, until tomorrow then.” He hums. “Good night, Y/N.”
“Good night, Shadowsinger.”
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tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @cadiawrites @bookishbroadwaybish @tele86 @fuckingsimp4azriel @berryzxx
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targaryenluvs · 10 months ago
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YOURS TRULY
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pairings: dark!luke castellan x fem!reader, dark!percy jackson x fem!reader
summary: with one demi-god on your tail, you try your hardest to make your escape. but with two? they’re both no where near willing to let you go.
warnings: obsession, possession, stalking, implied kidnapping, sexual implications
a/n: look who decided to write again!
Icons not mine, credits to the owner!
it wasn’t hard for him to find you again. a given, he would track you down to the ends of tartarus as long as you wound up where you were meant to be.
by his side.
at first he’d been disappointed in himself when he fell for you. luke thought himself above that, thinking that he’d devoted himself entirely to his cause. but maybe being around so many kids for so many years caused him to soften in places unknown.
because when you’d limped into camp, collapsing in the strawberry fields and sending the the place into a tailspin, he found an eerie sense of peace with you. the words and thoughts in his heads were drowned out the second you looked up at him.
“it’s- it keeps- it’s chasing me.” his hand came down to your stomach, a lash ran across. not too deep, barely half a centimetre perhaps less. luke immediately picked up his sword in defence of you, waiting for the monster to show. meanwhile the other kids were either running for chiron and mr d or gearing up themselves.
there was no way they were missing the chance for kleos.
but the monster was already subdued, as percy walked out dragging a head along with him. “order to go?” you couldn’t help the smile that came across your face at his words. but luke didn’t like it, how the hell had percy beaten him to it?
over the next few months you found yourself in between the two of them, fighting for your attention. even if it was just for a minute. during the capture the flag you found yourself rotating teams every time since apparently the other promised victory every time. but you knew if you only focused on one of them the other would be angry.
everyone else at camp found it hilarious. two of the most well known campers competing for someone who apparently couldn’t care less. you just wanted to be at camp with your friends.
but what you didn’t know was that they were actively working against each other.
“nice sword skills jackson, a scarecrow teach you?” luke laughed as percy sighed, “your insults are weak castellan, so are your own skills.” luke raised his eyebrows, he was one of the best swordsman around in a long time. they both were one of few who saw the real sides to them, the jealousy and the arrogance. all because of you.
it got so intense to the point that you knew you needed to run. they were hurting eachother constantly, all for your approval, and even threatening your own siblings at times. to the point where they slowly began to distance themselves when the two were around. whether they’re excusing themselves for the bathrooms or just blatantly upping and leaving.
“hey y/n, how are you?” your spoon froze mid air as you heard percy’s voice, a quick glance at your siblings and you could see the fear. “guys, you mind giving us a second?” all your sibling at the table were younger than you and more than happy to leave, “i’m doing fine jackson. you?” you couldn’t be any shorter with him yet he always engaged himself in conversations with you. even when you were clearly uninterested.
“i’m doing amazing, now that i’m talking to you.” you flashed him a smile before getting up with your tray, “that’s nice, i’ll see you around.”
percy watched as you walked away, until he heard the voice he dreaded. “left alone are we?” luke joked whilst sitting down in the spot you’d occupied not too long ago. “shut up. she barely talks to you.” luke smiled, “well, when she’s with me we don’t do a lot of talking.” if looks could kill, luke would be a goner. “stop it.”
“bet i could catch her before you.”
“you’re slower than me let’s be realistic jackson.”’
“you wanna bet?”
and that’s exactly how you ended up here, knee-deep in the creek with either boy on each side of you. “will you just leave me alone? what is wrong with you!” luke’s face was cold, his grip on his sword was more than enough to make your heart race. “just come out and let me talk to you.” you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at percy’s words, “why would i? it looks like you wanna kill me!”
“no!” luke’s shouting caused you to stumble back, “i mean— i would never hurt you.” he took a step forwards as you pointed your spear, “stay back!” unfortunately, you’d been so busy fending off luke you’d forgotten about percy to your left. you screamed at the top of your lungs when his arms came around you.
“hey, quit it.” luke whispered as his hand came over your mouth. “i don’t want to hurt you.” you’d be damned if you went quietly, so you shook and writhed. trying your hardest to get away, and luke had a short temper when it came to you. his sword came across your head, knocking you out cold. “what the hell!” percy yelled as you went limp in his arms. “she’ll be fine, now let’s get going.”
as they walked with you, either one couldn’t help but think, when they’d get rid of the other.
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loveinhawkins · 7 months ago
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ao3
Eddie falls asleep in the back of the RV. Steve watches it happen in stages, after the stop at The War Zone—driving a little further out for a food shop, away from prying eyes.
He announces that the coast is clear when the roads become reassuringly empty. For the first time in days, he relaxes into the rhythm of driving: he’s triple-checked that no-one’s tailing them, and if it weren’t for the hastily bought weapons, he could almost pretend that…
He glances at the rearview mirror, sensing movement. It’s Eddie, standing up from where he’d been huddled against the back of Steve’s seat. He looks like he’s relishing the freedom to stretch his legs—Steve thinks, with a pang, that he’s probably sick of hiding—and takes his time on his way to the back seat.
Keeps his balance for the most part, only stumbles once, briefly latches onto Robin’s shoulder with a sheepish smile, says something like, “Role reversal, Buckley,” and she laughs.
He settles with the kids in the back. Clearly tries to give them the most space, folding his legs awkwardly in the corner almost like he’s already back to hiding again, but they won’t let him; Dustin wiggles along to create more room, and Erica pins Eddie with a look—the most Steve can make out is, “You look like a…”, but whatever she says makes Eddie snort, then smile with obvious affection.
The next time Steve looks to find Eddie’s reflection, he’s relaxed into his seat, legs stretched out in front, the edge of one sneaker bouncing up and down absent-mindedly—but growing slower and slower.
He’s talking to Lucas, the speech drowned out by the RV engine; Steve can still see how it makes Lucas relax in turn, even giggle, which has been an all too rare occurrence lately. How Max, despite carrying the heaviness of the Walkman, looks on with a spark in her eyes.
If Steve had to guess, he’d say that Eddie doesn’t mean to fall asleep. Maybe it’s the motion of the RV or the angle of the sun through the windows. Maybe it’s just that he finally feels safe.
Either way, his blinks get longer and longer, and then he’s drifted off, out completely, and Steve watches with something close to pride as the kids all get off the bench in silent agreement—Max confidently lifting Eddie’s legs and swinging them up onto the cushions like it’s second nature. He barely stirs, head nodding a little until he’s lying down properly.
Steve splits the last of his cash with Nancy on the food. They make a trio with Robin for heading to the store, the kids on what they’ve dubbed ‘Eddie watch’ and what Steve has dubbed, “Yeah, I’ve left it running—that still means no driving unless, like—actually no, I’m not even gonna—yeah, Dustin, I’ll get you more Pringles, Jesus Christ.”
And because he’s weak, he still ends up caving to Max’s loophole that yes, if demodogs and/or bats and/or people that just look at them funny show up, she’s got permission to floor it; he’s not gonna tell her he’d scoped the place out well before he’d parked.
Ten minutes later, laden with bags, Nancy says, “We could use somewhere with more space. For…”
She indicates the supplies of a more grim variety than snacks.
Steve thinks about it, then exhales with a little laugh. “Yeah, I’ve got somewhere.”
Robin eyes him curiously. It’s like she’s heard through the laugh, can somehow feel the thing that wells up in the back of his throat—only for a second; he’s used to pushing it back.
She squeezes his shoulder. He pats the back of her hand before driving away. Sometimes words spill out between them, ever flowing. Sometimes they don’t need words at all.
There’s a strange kind of thrill in feeling the tires go right over the grass. Feels bigger than what it is—like something’s finally been unearthed.
They’re all quiet as the group starts to filter outside. Steve looks over his shoulder: Eddie is still fast asleep. His lips move every so often, drowsy half-formed words.
Steve wonders what he’s dreaming about. He hopes it’s something good.
He lets everyone go in front of him—Robin snatches a bag of food out of Dustin’s hands, whispering fondly, “That one’s mine, you animal.”
Nancy hesitates just outside, then turns back into the RV to sit on the step.
“It’s just…” She tilts her head to the side with meaning. “I don’t think he should wake up alone, you know?”
Steve nods. “Yeah, me too.”
And that’s how they end up sat together, half in the RV and half outside. Nancy dangles her feet above the grass—she could reach it, of course, but it seems deliberate, like she’s enjoying the breeze.
Or trying to, at any rate: there’s still a restlessness to her, an anxious pinch to her face, like she’s one step away from jumping to her feet and—
Steve squeezes her knee—hears the way she exhales, like she’s finally caught her breath.
“Food first,” Steve says gently.
She nods belatedly, like the words take a little while longer to reach her. “Food first.” She rustles through one of the bags, brings out something wrapped in foil. “Robin said this is for you…?”
Steve chuckles. It’s a sesame bagel: bacon, egg, and cheese.
He gives half to Nancy.
They eat in companionable silence—just listening to the breeze and the occasional shout of laughter: Robin’s formed a circle with everyone up ahead, a chaotic game of duck, duck, goose, which is a ridiculous choice because her run is ridiculous, and Steve feels his cheeks ache with a smile at the grass stains already on her shirt, as Dustin and Lucas pull her down in some kind of duck-goose uprising, and Max gets Erica up on her shoulders, joining the fray; and underneath it all, he can hear Eddie hum slightly in his sleep, but it’s not a noise of distress—like he knows subconsciously that he isn’t alone.
“Here,” Nancy says.
When Steve turns to her, she’s got a packet of chips open between them. Salt and vinegar.
He doesn’t mean to say it out loud, but—
“You remembered,” he says through a rush of affection; it hits him square in the chest.
Nancy smiles. “Can never forget you and Mike fighting for the last packet.”
Steve knocks their knees together. “Yeah, he fought dirty.”
They laugh together, hushed but heartfelt.
There’s a streak of ketchup across Nancy’s face that she hasn’t bothered wiping away. She looks years younger somehow—looks lighter, like the food in her stomach has settled something intangible.
Her smile turns even softer, thoughtful, and warmth settles behind Steve’s eyes.
I’m sorry, he thinks. I’m sorry I couldn’t be what…
You never deserved to hurt.
“Did you get changed in the dark?” Nancy says, eyes bright with mirth.
It’s so sudden that it startles Steve right out of his thoughts, a welling emotion halted.
“Excuse me, Nancy Wheeler?” he says with a faint grin.
“Steve Harrington,” Nancy returns teasingly. She ruffles a hand through the back of his hair with easy affection, “There. That’s more like it.”
“Am I presentable now?”
“Oh, you’ll do.”
She rests her chin in her hand, just considers him—but it’s a gentle kind of look. Almost like they’re back in English class, and he’s just answered a question without stumbling over his interpretation, and he glances across to her desk, finds her watching him with pride.
“You suited the denim,” she says sincerely. Mimes how he’d shrugged into Eddie’s vest.
Steve feels touched in a way that he can’t fully place, like she’s said something else. Maybe she has.
“Thanks,” he says.
They both look over to the field at a cry of victory. Dustin’s found the stash of 3 Musketeers, holding it aloft like he’s just won a science trophy.
“Hey,” Nancy calls, laughing, “at least one of those is mine!”
Steve can feel her shift, about to stand, and impulsively, he says, “Nance, wait.”
She’s stood already in the split second it took for him to speak, but she turns back.
Steve stands up. Hugs her.
He tries to put all he doesn’t know how to say into it; he does his best, pressing a chaste kiss to her temple. Thinks of how he swept her into an embrace next to the school lockers, her surprised shout of laughter, if you can be this for her, she’ll be happy, you’ll be…
And maybe she’s heard some of it, because her hold tightens around him, like she’s saying, you never deserved any of it, either.
She pulls back. Claps his shoulders to make him sit back down, and they both giggle slightly, both vulnerable. Nancy’s eyes are shining at the corners. But Steve knows they’re the good kind of tears.
He feels them, too.
Nancy nods, smiling wide, blinking in quick succession before the moment’s gone.
He nods back.
And then she’s running over to Dustin, and it almost looks like she’s flying, like she’s sixteen years old again, and nothing ever…
Steve has to close his eyes for just a second. Breathes through it.
Minutes pass before he catches a change in Eddie’s breathing—hears him shift and sigh as he stretches.
Steve tilts backwards, just enough to see Eddie slowly drifting awake on the bench.
“Hey,” Steve says as soft as he can, so Eddie can go back to sleep if he wants; so it can just be part of a dream.
For a moment, it looks like that’s exactly what Eddie will do. But then his eyes find Steve’s, and they light up in recognition.
And he smiles. Sits up.
“Shit, did I really…?” The rest of the question’s lost to a yawn, and he stretches again, rubs a hand across his face to wake himself up.
“Yup,” Steve says. There’s one last bag by his feet, which he picks up to put in Eddie’s view. “This has got your name on it, man.”
Eddie sits down next to him. Steve shifts closer as he hands the bag over, feels the gentle press of Eddie against his side, the warmth left over from sleep.
Eddie whistles at the assortment of food. “Thanks, Steve.”
“Yeah, no—like, thank Dustin, not me.”
Dustin had rattled off a list of Eddie’s favourites—“Actual food this time, Dustin, he’s not surviving on just cereal, it’s depressing,”—which Steve had written hastily on the back of his hand.
He knows that Eddie’s seen the evidence of the list on his skin, faded as it is from the dying pen he’d used, because he smiles when he says, “Mm-hmm, I will,” like they’re sharing a secret; and then he looks off into the distance, squinting against the sun with a hand over his eyes, barks a laugh. “Besides, he looks kinda busy, uh… I don’t actually know what he’s doing. Killing Buckley, maybe?”
Robin’s joking yell punctuates Eddie’s words; it looks like she’s somehow recruited Lucas over to her side, because Dustin’s trying to flatten the pair of them; Erica’s got Dustin’s thinking cap on backwards, while Max shouts, “That’s a foul!”; Nancy’s sat crosslegged, eating candy and throwing out words of amused encouragement.
Eddie chuckles so fondly. He eats some of his share, then sighs with contentment. He stands but doesn’t go far at all, drifts over to a patch of ground like he’s drawn to it. Sits down. Runs his hands through the blades of grass and flowers, even the weeds; it makes Steve smile.
He follows.
They sit close to each other almost like they’re still sharing the step, even though there’s more than enough room to…
Eddie keeps watching the roughhousing. His eyes crinkle at the corners. He looks… happy.
He sighs again, leaning back a little, “This is nice. Who’s idea was it to come here?”
“Nancy’s, really,” Steve says.
But he can tell that Eddie notices the evasion—there’s a barely perceptible twitch of his eyebrow as he listens. He’s getting almost scarily good at it, Steve thinks, but it’s not done in an intimidating way; it’s not like Eddie wants to catch him out in something. It’s more like he… just wants to know. Like he cares.
“But you knew a spot?” Eddie prompts.
“Yeah, I…”
Steve could still avoid it—could just say carelessly, ‘cause we drove past it, duh, and Eddie would let it drop, he knows he would. But…
“I came here when I was a kid. Like, years ago. It was summer, and I think the car broke down or something? So we had to wait for…” Steve shrugs, but it’s just movement for the sake of it, trying to conceal the way his throat’s tightening in slow increments. “It was… I liked it,” he adds. Nods towards the kids. “I thought they might like it, too.” He tries to laugh, “Guess that’s kinda stupid to—”
“I think it’s sweet,” Eddie interrupts firmly. “This place, it’s…” He smiles at Max’s squeal, Lucas lifting her up in a bridal carry. “It’s perfect, Steve.”
Steve tries to smile, because it is perfect, but that suddenly makes it hurt all the more. He’s gripped by a fierce, desperate urge to seize the weapons and burn them, to just let everyone fucking rest, to tell them they don’t have to do it anymore, they never have to—
“Steve,” Eddie says, soft, dismayed—sitting up and touching Steve’s hand where it rests in the grass, so delicately, so kind—
Steve swallows; he must not have pushed it all back in time. He doesn’t want to know what his face looks like, but he can guess, can feel the telltale burn in his eyes—and wavers on the brink. Almost falls. But he catches himself, only just, and when he’s forced to quickly swipe at his eyes with the back of his hand, he reasons that it’s okay. Only Eddie can see.
Still, he should—
“Sorry,” he waves a hand, tries to laugh at himself again, “just ignore me.”
When Eddie smiles, it looks as if he’s only doing it because he’s taking his lead from Steve. His eyes speak for him—like he’s thinking, you’re breaking my heart.
“Ignore you? Shit, man, that’s hard. Have you seen you?”
It’s said with a ridiculous amount of theatrics—so obviously done to lift Steve’s mood. But there’s a note of sincerity that Steve can hear above everything; Eddie isn’t hiding it.
Perhaps he doesn’t need to, either.
“I’m more than just a pretty face, Munson.”
He expects Eddie to laugh. And though he does, it’s quieter than he’d expected, and he says, “Oh, I know. Trust me.” He’s looking at the kids as he speaks. “They’ll be okay, you know.” He doesn’t say it like a platitude. He says it like a promise. “Wheeler, Buckley… me. We have them, too.”
And Steve doesn’t know how Eddie could ever accuse himself of cowardice. God, if you could only hear yourself, he thinks.
“I don’t want—I know. I know you do. I just—just wish—”
His voice fails him.
Eddie tilts his hand, palm up. Steve could act like he’d never seen it all. It’d be easy.
He takes Eddie’s hand. Breathes, and tries again.
“I just wish we didn’t have to—”
It’s as far as he can manage.
Eddie squeezes his hand. Murmurs, very gently, like a memory, “And so do all who live to see such times.”
Steve doesn’t need to ask. He can feel the weight of it through the words alone. Focuses on Eddie’s touch, the way his fingertips brush against Steve’s knuckles, over and over.
And then Steve lets go, but not before squeezing Eddie’s hand in return. Twice. He doesn’t know Morse code, but he hopes he’s understood.
He watches the kids play again. Glances over to the side when he feels another touch, Eddie’s shoulder briefly skimming his. This time he can tell it’s accidental; Eddie’s swaying a little where he sits.
“Shit, sorry. It’s the sun, it’s,” he yawns, “it’s making me…”
Steve’s reminded of the boathouse; of Eddie’s sunken face at Skull Rock.
“You’re just exhausted, Eddie,” he says.
He stands, briefly places his hands on Eddie’s forearms, tries to shield him from the worst of the vertigo. He feels Eddie jump beneath his touch, a forcible jolt back from the edge of sleep. Visceral.
Steve’s chest hurts.
“Wait there,” he says. “I’ll be right back. Hey, try to not fall asleep just yet, ‘kay?”
“M’not,” Eddie says, not very convincingly.
When Steve returns with a pillow from the RV, Eddie is lying in the grass, flat on his back. One hand floats in front of his face, fingers curling like he’s playing guitar chords—like he’s doing it to keep himself awake.
“Dude, that can’t be comfortable,” Steve says. He bends down, taps Eddie on the forehead, which makes Eddie blink slowly, looking at him upside down. “Can I…?”
“Yeah, whatever,” Eddie says softly. It sounds like I trust you.
Gently, Steve cups the back of Eddie’s head, moves it up ever so slightly and puts the pillow in between him and the ground. Eddie settles onto it with a sigh.
Steve moves away, sits back down; Eddie turns to lie on his side, facing him. His cheek presses into the pillow, one leg bending a little, like this is how he lies in bed; there’s a fragile vulnerability to the sight.
The sun draws attention to the grass in his hair. The slightest trace of freckles underneath his eyes; they’ll come out more in summer, Steve finds himself thinking. He wants to be there to see it.
It was summer when he first thought a boy was pretty. That day the car broke down, but his dad was laughing, making the most of it; he’d walked and walked to buy ice-cream and returned victorious to the field, where Steve was waiting with his mom.
They weren’t the only families there—the spot had been much busier years ago: people using it as a pit stop on road trips, Hawkins locals mixed in with folks from out of town, so it felt like the whole world was to be found here, stretching out before them in the grass.
Steve had seen the boy playing tag—it was over in barely a flash, but he still remembers how he held his breath when their eyes met, without understanding why.
He’s pretty, he’d thought, it was the only word he had for it—an instinct from his mom teaching him words, bouncing him on her hip, oh, Steve, look at the pretty flowers.
He’d known even then it was a thought he couldn’t share—like how a child comes to know that they’re not to touch a hot stove.
He’s pretty.
Steve could tell himself that he doesn’t know why he’s remembering it now. But it would be a lie.
Eddie’s tugging idly at the grass, but his hand keeps going slack, twitching with oncoming sleep.
“You know how t’whistle with ‘em?” he asks clumsily.
His eyes are closed. Steve stills his hand, slips a blade of grass out from his loose hold.
“No,” he says, drags it through his teeth like he’ll miraculously make it whistle just by doing that.
Nothing happens, of course; the grass tastes just a little sweet on his tongue. He takes it out from in between his lips and lets it go, to be lost on the wind.
When the taste dissipates, he misses it.
“Yeah, me neither,” Eddie says, amused. His voice is lilting with exhaustion. “My uncle tried to teach me once, but I couldn’t… maybe ‘cause… still had some of my baby teeth… maybe that makes it harder?”
“Maybe,” Steve agrees quietly. He picks some grass out of Eddie’s hair, as lightly as he can. “I’ll ask him for some tips.”
Eddie smiles at that. “He’ll like you,” he says.
He’s half-asleep, Steve reminds himself. He hardly knows what he’s saying.
But he can’t help feeling pleased at the thought.
“Oh, yeah? You think so?”
“Mm-hmm. He likes…” Eddie yawns. “Likes everyone I like. And I… I really like you.”
It’s said so easily. Like it’s simple.
Maybe it could be. Just this once.
Steve feels emotion creeping up his throat, resting heavy on his tongue. This time, he doesn’t push it back; he speaks through it.
“I really like you, too,” he whispers.
Eddie hums sweetly, like he’s heard even when almost all the way to dreaming. “Think there’s a trick to it,” he mumbles, and Steve realises he’s talking about whistling again, lost to a childhood memory.
Stay there, Eddie. Rest.
“A trick?” Steve says in hushed tones.
“Yeah, I… remember he’d… he’d say…”
Eddie falls asleep mid-sentence.
Steve watches him. Angles his shoulder to create shade, shielding him from the sun.
He looks over at the kids: they’re playing tag with Robin now, Nancy joining in—a little quieter, like maybe they’d seen…
If he unfocuses his eyes just slightly, he can almost see his dad coming over the hill with the tubs of ice-cream. His mom smiling, sunburn on her shoulder, and Steve hit with a wave of inexplicable sadness, like he already knew, she’ll never be this happy again.
Eddie sighs in his sleep.
Steve feels a subtle change in the sun on his skin, the afternoon dying.
Stay, he thinks. Mouths it with childish hope, stay, like he’s still the boy who fell asleep right here, in between his parents, wanting the day to stretch on and on—the one who couldn’t outrun the feeling, even then, that he was coming to the end of something.
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babybeel · 2 years ago
Text
— violent
“shut the fuck up! you don’t know what you’re saying, shut up!”
your voice is thick with anger as it bounces off the walls, bitterness echoing through. mammon feels his blood boil before he can even see you, hoping for the best though fearing the worst. his talons have begun to peak through, sharp claws digging into the meat of his palms as his hands close into tight fists, and he feels his shoulder blades stiffen as his wings strain and ache against his shirt.
rounding the corner, the older brothers bear witness to you shouting at a group of lowly demons, teeth bared and gaze sharp. your pacts are glowing, piercing through the night as you let loose, emotions controlling you. beelzebub stands protectively in front of you, expression vicious though solemn, and belphegor holds a wary arm before you, though his tail whips behind him in similar anger. the brothers wonder with churning stomachs just what had been said.
“oh look,” one of the lesser demons dares to sneer, clearly thinking high of itself as a ugly smirk rises onto its face, having caught sight of the others, “maybe the avatar of greed isn’t so stupid after all, he can come when called. though, you better put him on a leash before he wanders off and fucks everything up again.”
the brothers don’t bother to hide their demon forms any longer, turning into a fearsome flurry of wings and fangs and claws. lucifer takes a furious stride forward, ready to quash anyone who insulted his younger brother and a terrifying aura rolls off of him in suffocating waves.
you beat him to it.
“sounds like you’re stupid, so thick you can’t even listen when someone tells you to shut your fucking mouth,” you snarl, entire body pushing against belphie’s arm, “you’ll never be worth a shred of what mammon is. he’s not an avatar for nothing. he’s reliable and dependable - he completes his duties, protects his brothers through everything and takes care of me too. you dare speak about mammon whilst you’re trying to amount to anything and i promise i’ll be there to stop you getting anywhere near his level.”
your breath is ragged when you finish, venomous threat weighing heavy in the air. you finally take a step back from belphie’s hold, decidedly having said enough. still, your expression doesn’t relax, eyes fierce and teeth on show.
the group of lesser demons begin to cower, shuffling uncomfortably as their ringleader swallows thickly, suddenly realising what it’d done as your severe words sink into its skin and the seven avatars of sin surround you. it opens and closes its mouth a handful of times, lower lip quivering as its earlier confidence abandons it. it’s only a second after that the demons scramble away, feet panicked as they slap against the floor. they’re slower than the avatars that follow them.
a call of your name dissolves the remaining tension, gentle and familiar and only just above a whisper.
“oh, mammon,” you turn, eyes softening at the only brother who remained with you. “oh, my mammon,” you murmur again, wrapping yourself around his torso, as tight as you possibly can. his open arms quickly return the hold, your body still trembling ever so slightly against his. but the anger soon gives way to relief and mammon lets out a sigh of his own as it floods through his pact.
“it’s ok,” mammon hushes, “i’m ok.”
against your every fibre, you pull back and the loss of your cheek against mammon’s chest leaves him uncomfortably cold. your hands snake up to cup his face, stark tenderness so blatant it’s hard to picture that you had been snarling and spitting a few minutes ago. “you sure?” you ask, staring straight into mammon’s eyes that glimmer gold at the contact.
mammon nods, taking the chance to lean into your touch, “course i am, you and my brothers look after me too. i’m your first man and you’re my first human.”
“you promise?” your tone is adamant and unrelenting, despite how mammon’s words had left you melty warm.
mammon lets the smile break onto his lips, lets your hands pull him downwards until your foreheads are pressed against each other. “promise,” he hums, “i’m ok as long as i’ve got you.”
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caitified · 1 month ago
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Hey, can you write some more Kate stories please ? They are really good 😊
puppy love
kate martin x reader
warnings: none! more family series coming soon
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kate’s been quiet since the loss. she’s not one to show it too much—always trying to be strong, for her teammates, for you—but you can see it in the way she moves around the apartment, slower than usual, her usual spark dimmed.
it’s been a tough adjustment, this first season in the league. vegas has been good to her, to both of you, but the end of the playoffs hit harder than either of you expected. you’ve been wracking your brain for days, trying to find a way to cheer her up.
and then it hits you—the idea you’ve been holding onto for years.
kate’s always wanted a dog. she talked about it all the time in college, her face lighting up as she’d scroll through adoption websites, dreaming of the day you’d finally have a place big enough, a schedule steady enough, to make it happen.
now feels like the perfect time.
you spend a few days researching, visiting shelters while she’s at practice, and finally, you find the one. a golden retriever mix with the sweetest brown eyes, one that practically melts into your hand the moment you meet him.
the adoption papers are signed that afternoon.
when kate comes home from her workout the next day, the apartment’s unusually quiet.
“babe?” she calls, setting her bag down by the door.
“in the living room!” you reply, barely containing your excitement.
she rounds the corner, her brows furrowing as she takes in the scene—you sitting on the couch, and the dog sitting at your feet, wagging his tail like he’s already claimed her as his favorite person.
“oh my god,” kate breathes, dropping her water bottle as her eyes widen.
“surprise,” you say softly, your smile growing as she just stands there, frozen.
“is this—?”
“he’s ours,” you confirm, patting your thigh to call the dog closer. he trots over to you, but his attention quickly shifts to kate, sniffing her cautiously before pressing his nose against her hand.
“you—” kate’s voice catches, and she sinks to her knees, scratching behind the dog’s ears. “you got me a dog?”
“i got us a dog,” you correct, watching as her eyes start to glisten. “i know how hard this season’s been for you. and i thought… maybe this would help.”
kate lets out a shaky laugh, wrapping her arms around the dog, who happily licks her cheek. “you’re amazing, you know that?”
“i try,” you tease, moving to sit beside her on the floor.
she looks over at you, her eyes still wet but filled with so much love it makes your chest ache. “seriously, i can’t believe you did this. he’s perfect.”
“you’re perfect,” you counter, leaning in to kiss her temple.
she laughs again, this time lighter, and rests her head on your shoulder. “what’s his name?”
“i was thinking you could pick,” you say, watching as the dog flops onto his back, clearly at home already.
kate grins, brushing a hand over the dog’s soft fur. “how about lucky? because that’s how i feel right now.”
you laugh softly, pressing a kiss to her hair. “lucky it is.”
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vulcan-moon · 4 months ago
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Bro...inhibitor ring Amy...ur mind bro....
Seriously though, while I'm of the personal opinion that her bracelets are weights like they are in the GBA games, I ALSO am a diehard fan of chaos-user!Amy.  In fact, ice been saying for years now that she IS a chaos user—she just gives her more supernatural combative abilities cutesy or simplified names as opposed to Shadow's more technical naming conventions. 
Storming Heart is a derivative form of Chaos Spear, which in the games looks slower and more concussive like a bomb might be.  Rose Typhoon is just a Chaos Blast supplemented by the shockwaves she generates using her hammer. 
I wouldn't be surprised if the more technical terms for her Invisibility and Precognitive abilities—referring to her tarot readings, accurate intuition, etc.—were something along the lines of "Chaos Shroud" and "Chaos Divination" respectively.  Then there's her pocket dimension where she keeps things like her hammer and cards, so that could just be accessing her own personal "Chaos Space".  Hells, she even has a uniquely strong capacity to sense the energy of other people and things, which is what makes her such a great tracker in canon, and if the energy she's sensing is actually just the chaos energy all living things naturally possess in varying strengths and signatures, then maybe she also employs a sort of "Chaos Dowsing" technique. 
Idk if you can tell, but I'm a big Amy fan lol.  I usually just love all-arounder characters like her—seeing how she's faster than Tails and Knuckles but not Sonic, stronger than Sonic and Tails but not Knuckles, and smarter than Sonic and Knuckles but not Tails.  Also, a sweet, peppy magical girl who's greatest traits are her passion and kindness?  Sign me tf up. 
Would be funny for her to ask Shadow to teach her Chaos abilities now that she knows to take off the inhibitors and for him to be all ???? "What are you talking about? You use them all the time??" lol. My shadamy shipper heart would also just love to see them grow closer over this, but that's neither here nor there
i love amyyyy i love her so much. her abilities are so wild and all over the place and the moment you think deeper abt them youre like,,,, how tf does she do what she does actually why tf does she have a pocket dimension. and you're so right abt the naming thing!!
to me it just makes sense her being a chaos energy user. all the other hedgehogs can do it, she's got abilities that are very similar to theirs, it makes sense that she channels chaos energy too. if sega weren't cowards, she'd have a super form by now 😔
also hilariously enough im in the middle of drawing a short lil follow up comic to my last one w that premise :3c sneak peek
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forgeofthenine · 1 year ago
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Oh! Duh, I have an awesome hc theme I've been toying with since I'm planning that fic.
How Dammon, Zevlor, and Rolan (or any other tieflings you'd like to add) would handle a human friend for SO asking about their fiendish traits (horns, tails, eyes, claws). They're hoping for a closer look or even maybe to touch. They've never met or been near a tiefling before. They've of course very polite and even a bit bashful, not wanting to make them uncomfortable. Feel free to throw some nsfw if you want. 💙
This was an absolute blast to write, it's not a secret that I love my tieflings infernal traits :)
I added in just a lil bit of NSFW as a treat, too
Light NSFW under the cut
The bachelors with a partner that wants to explore their tiefling traits
Dammon
Our lovely blacksmith is more than happy to let you have a better look at his infernal traits
Honestly, he finds the way you blush when you try and ask for permission so endearing
Lets you run your fingertips over his tail and horns, Dammon will offhandedly mention they're sensitive
If you bring up hearing that tieflings have ridges and bumps on their skin he'll offer to take off his shirt
You can see the way his breath hitches when you feel the ridges on your chest
Dammons never had so much attention centred on his infernal traits, he's honestly a little embarrassed
If your hand happens to drift nearer to his waistband then he'll be embarrassed for a whole different reason
Once you get to this point, just a single insinuation that you're curious what the rest of a tiefling looks like is enough to get Dammon into bed
He absolutely chuckles at the surprised way you look at his dick, he takes your hand to help you wrap it around him too
By the end of the night you'll be very familiar with tiefling anatomy-
Zevlor
Things go much slower with Zevlor
He's happy to let you feel over his horns and ears, or look into his eyes even if it was a little embarrassing
You'll even be able to feel his tail on occasion, even if you aren't dating him
It's only once the two of you are together and you're reading one of his books on tieflings that you ask if he really has ridges and bumps all over his body
He stumbles over his words a little bit before confirming that they do have them on their bodies, but not quite covering every bit
I feel like you wouldn't see much of Zevlors skin until you two have sex for the first time
Afterwards, while the two of you are lounging in your bed with your bodies pleasantly aching
That's when you can run your fingers over his chest and shoulders to see how they feel
And, surprising you both, Zevlor will start purring
It's then that he runs his own hands over your skin and explains more of his anatomy to you
Particularly about purring, and why tieflings do it
This entire time his tail will absolutely be wrapped around you, likely one of your legs
Rolan
If you show any curiosity for his infernal traits in front of his siblings then they're teasing you both endlessly
If you ask very nicely when in private then he'll let you feel his horns, but he grumbles the whole time
You can get a good feel of Rolans tail when he's tired because it's likely he's already wrapped it around you
And if you want to see the rest of him?
Like with Zevlor, having sex is probably your best chance
Honestly, just give his horns a firm tug while making out and he's snapping his fingers to magically strip you both
I can just see him lying you down on his bed as he pushes into you, taking your hands in his and running them over the ridges on his chest
Definitely teases you for wanting to feel him up
"Is it everything you hoped for, darling?"
Rolan loves when you trace your fingertips over each bump on his shoulders, he absolutely lies on top of your chest to give you easy access
He also looks the prettiest when his head is on your chest, sleepy eyes looking up at you while he purrs
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phoenixeclipse-lmkau · 3 months ago
Text
Cursed Warlords AU - Chapter 4 - Boat Ride
With you passed out, Spirit has no choice but to carry you along the trail to get to the village you all were heading to. Too bad there was something in the way.
Wukong had to admit, the woman who had so carelessly claimed him and his mate as if they were mere animals was quite… relaxing when she was asleep. Her presence was peaceful and calm, her body was warm to the touch. It was coming from her, he was sure of that. It wasn’t from the monkey demoness that was so rude to him and his mate.
*Chirp*
Turning he looked over at his mate who was sitting on her other shoulder, tail wrapped slightly around her neck for support and his chin on top of her head. They would have both sat on one of her shoulders but their forms even this small were much to big for that. Looking at his mate so tiny was weird, with everything that was happening he hadn’t had time to just look at his mate.
‘What are you staring at?’ Macaque chirped curiously.
‘You look better normally,’ Wukong chirped back receiving a rather offended chirp in response.
The two chirped back and forth for a while, they were both rather surprised when Spirit didn’t really react to the chirps they were giving. She silently walked through the forest, expertly weaving her way through the trees and bushes. Her gaze steadfast towards whatever village she had mentioned before.
‘This is slower than I thought it would be,’ Wukong chirped in irritation after a while.
Macaque looked at him, snuggling his head into your hair as he did, ‘still faster than the curse would let us go.’
Wukong hated that he was right. The very thought of the curse that was set upon them sends an absolute fury straight through his very body. Once he finds out who is responsible for this mess, he will be sure to rip them limb from limb. His tail tightened around your shoulder where he secured it to keep himself steady.
“Monkeys,” Spirit spoke up causing both of the monkeys to look at her, as best they could from behind her. They both chirped to let her know that they were listening. Wukong didn’t like this one, not one bit but until he had his full power back there wasn’t much either him or Macaque could do about her.
“We are going to get to a village by sundown. You will both be on YOUR BEST BEHAVIOR, if not I don’t care if Reader likes you two. I will throw you out of our group,” She explains calmly, her voice dead serious as she explains her plan.
Wukong had to stop himself from snapping at her or clawing at her hair. She didn’t want them around that was clear enough but for her to be so heartless to cubs!? He felt his mate’s tail curl around his arm that was closest to him. He glanced to his violet eyes and chirped in reluctant acceptance. When he got free, this demoness was going to regret crossing him.
Maybe it would be better if they left, maybe they could get home by themselves without needing this mortal’s help. If anyone found out a human helped him… actually nothing would happen if he already has his true form back by then. After all who would be stupid enough to cross him and his mate?
His attention was soon drawn to the mortal, her breathing was becoming ragged and her face was getting rather red. Was it normal for human’s to become like this? Meh, it didn’t bother him any what happened to this kind woman meant nothing to him. She was just another human that he would one day kill. The thought of killing her didn’t sit well in his stomach as he thought about it. Maybe they’d let her live as a reward for her helping them, let her live as a slave on Flower Fruit Mountain for them. She had given them food, a kitchen slave would work. Yes that would work perfectly.
There were no other humans on their island. The fear that she would have for them once she realized who they were the whole time would be damn near addicting. His thoughts wandered to the fear he constantly set into all mortals alike. He wandered how his mate would think of his plan, after all he was a very selfish and territorial mate. Not that he was much different.
His thoughts were broken when Spirit stopped, in front of a large river. Her tail slowly swung behind her rather angrily as she growled at the obstacle. Looking around she scanned for some sort of bridge or rock path that she could use to get across. Eventually her eyes caught sight of a boat with a single man sitting in it.
“Great, I have to glamour myself,” She grumbled, closing her eyes she allowed a glamour to build around her.
Her fur vanished, peachy skin replacing the fur rather quickly. Her tail vanished and her ears shrunk until she looked like a regular human. Her light grey white eyes slowly turning a light blue as she made her way over to the boat.
Wukong growled as they approached, purely hating the fact that they were heading straight towards a human. He hated how he wasn’t able to simply fly across the river on his cloud, he hated how he was so small and so fucking weak! Feeling his mate’s tail tighten slightly he grumbled again.
“Oh my, is your friend okay!?” The man on the boat practically yelled causing Macaque to wince at the sound before hiding his head close to your neck, his ears would be a dead give a way who he was. That thought brought another with it, how had neither you or Spirit recognized them. Surely you should have noticed his six ears, after all of this.
“I don’t know, she passed out just a little ways ago,” Spirit explained with a worried look across her now human face.
"Let me look at the girl," the man replied walking up, but jumped back at the sight of the two furry monkeys on your shoulders.
"Please do. I don't know what to do. And don't mind the cubs. They're harmless," Spirit assured the man calmly as she closed the distance so he could actually look at you.
The man winced at her words. Especially when Peaches growled just following her words. He did surprisingly avoid them while also taking a good look at your face, you had dark circles under your eyes which was the first thing he took note of.
"If I may ask, when was the last time that she slept?" he asked.
The only response he got was a dumbfounded look and silence. Spirit looked at him like what he said blew her mind, it clearly appeared that she truly didn’t know when she had slept. Glancing to the side she finally muttered.
Her words were kind of quite as she spoke, “Does it matter?”
The man’s eyes widened before blinking in surprise. He stared at her for a long moment as a look of realization crossed his face. Wukong and Macaque knew that kind of look, the fear that crossed over his face. He knew she wasn’t human, well that was one of the poorest disguises that they have ever heard of.
Noticing how he backed away in fear Spirit let out a loud sigh. Wukong wanted to laugh at her frustration, serves her right for being so rude.
“I mean no harm. I just need to help my friend, now what do I need to do if she didn’t sleep?” She asked, her teeth gritting together as she stood there trying not to scare the man. Damn, how many demons passed through her for him to recognize that she wasn’t human so fast?
“D-Don’t hurt me,” He responded quickly, damn, he wasn’t listening like at all.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” She replied only to realize that he wasn’t at all convinced. Releasing another heavy sigh she added, “If you help me. Now tell me what I need to do to make sure this human woman doesn’t die on me.”
The man’s eyes widened at her words. He looked absolutely petrified but slowly and shakily began to reply. “She needs to sleep, drink water and eat food. It would also be wise to get her some shelter, without protection from the weather she can get sick.”
“Great, now where is there somewhere I can let her sleep?” Spirit asked hoping to not scare him.
“T-There’s an inn in the town at the other side of the river,” He pointed to the village but as soon as he did seemed to realize that he would have to help her across the river.
Wukong let out a low growl, he hated water. He hated water due to his stone body, he sunk every single time. Macaque sensing or rather hearing his growl tightened his tail around his arm trying to calm him down. He didn’t want to go across the water.
“Hush Peaches,” Spirit muttered before walking towards the boat. “Sir if you can help me across the river we will not have any more interactions.”
“A-Alright…” The man stuttered out quickly rushing over to the boat hoping to get this over with as soon as possible.
Wukong scoffed at the sight, he looked like a helpless little human. He would be easily crushed beneath his heel if he had his body back, the fear in his eyes would have been the last sight he would see if he had chosen to kill him. But now… now with this damned body! He tensed at the very thought of how truly defenseless he was.
A groan next to him cut his thoughts off. He along with Macaque turned to you who slightly shifted, scrunching your eyes as if you were about to wake. However you didn’t wake up as you panted softly as if it was harder to breath. Wukong wanted to growl at that, maybe he and Macaque should just leave and save them from the headache of this woman. They were going to stay in an inn for who knows how long because you passed out.
‘We should just leave these two as soon as we cross the river,’ Wukong chirped. He patiently waited for his mate’s reply though it was hard when all he wanted was his answer.
Macaque remained silent for a few minutes. He didn’t speak as Spirit adjusted herself forcing both monkeys to move so she could settle you onto her lap instead of her back. He stared at you for a minute, then at Spirit, and then looked back at his mate.
‘Yeah, we should leave after we get passed the river. It’s doubtful that they will be of any more use to us,’ he finally chirped back as he sat down slightly behind Spirit’s arm, mostly to hide himself as he didn’t want to get thrown overboard if someone were to suspect him.
Wukong grinned when he got that response. He wouldn’t have to deal with this annoying demoness anymore. He and Macaque could get back home on their own, they didn’t need anyone’s help at all. Swishing his tail he hopped over next to his mate and curled up knowing he had to wait for this ride to be over with before they could do anything else.
I hope to hear everyone’s thoughts on the newest post! Admittedly it took longer than I had planned to finish it but hey that’s fine. I love to read comments and asks about this AU! If you have questions shoot them my way! Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed!
Masterpost
Part 5 - The Village
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