#shed obviously be a cat.

[liquidstar]

i wanna preface this by saying im not big into furry stuff but im big into oc stuff, so sorry to all the furries if i sound like a poser. but i think if you have a human oc theres gotta be a difference between what their fursona would be (from the pov of you, their creator) and what it actually is (what they would chose). do you understand what i mean? theres a big difference between their fursona and your animal version of them.

[windupaidoneus]

i think once emet fully processes how different hes become from who he used to be hes fine being alive again. like ofc hes always gonna long for the unsundered world but like thats how grief works. once he realises & accepts he himself has undergone massive changes (even if influenced by zodiark) he can deal with a second life in this very much changed world (a world he has also learnt to know & love whether he likes to acknowledge it or not) better. he gets to be normal now. at last. & even if it brings him distress at times bc no matter how much he claims to be over it & 'it doesnt matter anymore' its not like its easy to actually be over it hildes here to help him walk that mundane but happier path even with his wol duties. & i mean they do some less mundane shit together on occasion like killing hildegardes parents so its not like hes entirely out of his depth

[pagan-corruption]

Imagine if someone teared up discussing how horrific is must be to witness [insert something that you saw on a daily basis as a child]

That's how it feels whenever people talk about the ethics of eating meat when you grew up in rural Iowa.

Like I have looked countless pigs and cows in the eye as they headed to the meat packing plant I don't give a shit. I don't eat red meat, but that's because of ARFID.

[bee-wg]

Year 3:

Now that I think about it, football has been a constant in my life for five years now. I’m not sure if I enjoy football anymore; it used to be about the fun we have passing the ball, now it’s all about the stats or the perfect form.��

I stood up from the bleachers to hand Brad his towel.

“I’m going to leave the team, Brad,” I said.

“What? Where did this come from?” He said frantically.

“Everyone knows I’m still on the team because you’re the team’s captain now,” I said.

“I don’t want to cause tension between you and Coach. There’s nothing I could do wobbling around the field anyway,” I added.

“Dude, you know I started playing football because of you, right?” Brad said.

“Bradley, relax. I’m not dead. You can come over to my house whenever you want.” I said.

“Theo can make you some lemon pudding cakes if you want to come,” hopefully this will calm him.

“Fine. Just so you know, I’m not happy about this,” he said, sounding like a brat.

“Okay, got it. Have fun at the party,” I chuckled.

“I won’t. I’m going to make the DJ play Lana Del Rey,” he said before entering the locker room.

There might be an oversight of me quitting football.

It’s literally the reason why I quit. I don’t know why it never crossed my mind.

How the fuck am I going to lose weight now?

“Maybe I would’ve thought it if the word, “exercise” was anywhere on my to-do list this past year,” the voice from the back of my head said.

Shut up, rational thought. I was just a little too cocky, that’s all.

My mind spins around the paths I could take to shed the fat.

Back to the gym for the bodybuilders to laugh at me jiggling like a puddle of slime on the treadmill.

No. Hard no.

Stop eating whatever Theo puts in front of my face.

Productive, but I’d rather die than miss out on the joy of the world.

Post my weight loss journey edits on social media, reminiscing on my rock-hard abs like a depressed, fat person.

No? No, actually it might just work.

My thumbs got to work. It took me an hour to choose a profile picture that represents me. I could go for a vacation photo by the beach, or the classic black and white moody gym pic. Except, I don’t have a picture of myself on my phone, so I chose the picture of an orange cat eating a banana.

With my camera set up, in my favourite green tank top. I pressed record.

It was an embarrassing experience editing myself, watching my belly sway every time I made a movement. In the end, I closed my eyes and uploaded the video.

“Oh! First comment already.” I said.

“Look at those milkers spilling out the tanks!”

3. Post my weight loss journey edits on social media, reminiscing on my rock-hard abs like a depressed, fat person.

The following weeks consisted of me eating my feelings. At least half of my classes are online this semester. I can be embarrassed in peace.

The pounds kept creeping up with each spoon of ice cream down my throat. In the blink of an eye, I am dangerously close to 300 pounds.

I finally worked up the courage to ask during a normal family dinner.

“Honey, what happened? You’re not eating as fast as usual. Is Theo not cooking enough?” Mom asked.

“No, Mom, I just…I just hope you guys can ease up with your little cooking competitions.”

“Oh honey, you know Theo and I will stop with the food whenever you ask.” Mom tries to reassure me.

“No! Obviously don’t stop the food. It’s just that I’ve been blowing up like a pig and I don’t know what to do about it.” I said.

“I didn’t know you were sad about it. I just want my family to be happy, you look the happiest when you eat,” Mom said

“It wouldn’t have helped when you guys lost for the past two years,” Mom added.

“Well, Dad likes to eat better, and no one eats like him,” I replied. 

“I’m sure my cooking was the reason we won. David is a gym teacher, he walks off the food easily,” Mom said.

“Theo is a professional though, no offence but no one on the planet cooks like him. I’m sure football was the reason we lost,” I said, trying to talk some sense into her.

Theo stares at us with wide eyes.

“Jacob, I’m sure you didn’t mean it,” Mom said with a blank face.

“You know what? Keep doing your competition, this time again next year we’ll see who’s the winner,” I said.

I am clearly a failure at losing weight. The only thing I’m good at is eating. If I’m going to gain weight anyway, I’m going to go all out and win this shit once and for all. Once this is settled, I can get back to normal. Not wanting to disappoint Theo when we lose again was probably the thing holding me back. I can’t wait to eat all the delicious things Theo is- I can’t wait for this to be over.

“Alright, Jay,” she turned to Theo and said.

“Theo, my boy. I’m looking forward to seeing the results next year,” Mom said with a determined smile.

Everyone knows not to mess with Mom when she has that look. Even then, I feel like we could still win. Theo’s food is hypnotic already when I am restrained; imagine what it will do to me when I’m going all out.

“What’s going on again?” Dad asked with cheeks full of pasta.

“Don’t worry baby, you just need to eat a little more next year,” Mom answered.

“Okay, as long as I get my lasagnas,” Dad said.

Later at night, struggling to sleep, I contemplated on the bad decisions I’ve made. This one might take the crown to be the stupidest thing I’ve done. Yet, I don’t regret it.

“You didn’t have to stand up for me,” Theo said.

“It’s the least I can do when you wake up early to prep for my food, or go off on the weekends for groceries when you could’ve been doing anything else,” I explained.

“Thank you so much, Jay. You don’t know how much this means to me. My family wanted me to do anything other than cooking, but you guys have been nothing but supportive,” he said.

I smiled at the ceiling. The gremlin is nicer than I remember.

“Now, I won’t allow you to slack anymore with the amount you’re eating. Not until the competition ends.”

Huh?

Theo had stuck to his word and increased the amount he was cooking. I am now eating the amount of three people in each spread-out meal, still lacking behind Dad’s impressive five person’s amount per meal. So I have been playing catch up with him this entire month.

I realized quickly that I had underestimated the gap between Dad and my appetite. In the last few years, for the most part, I have been eating whatever I want, leaving the rest to Dad. With the exception of eating for the team once a week, I have been slacking. That was quite a hard pill to swallow. I’m 300 pounds, yet not doing a good job as a fatass. How is that possible?

So far I have gained about 23 pounds in the past two months. Normally, I would freak out and have a breakdown in bed because I’ve gained more than my freshman year in two months. Right now with my messed up head, all I can think about is how far I am behind. If we lose this again, it would be once and for all, and I would never let myself live this down. Theo deserves better with how good he’s been treating me.

With my new bulk, the stairs have been an increasing challenge. So, a few weeks ago I moved downstairs to a tiny guest room that was converted to a storage room.

The moment I moved down, I could hear Theo’s voice yelling, “Yes, Finally! Goodbye insomnia,” In my old bedroom. Before, I would’ve yelled for the brat to shut up. Now, with my stomach full. I just wanted a nap in peace.

It took me no time to adjust to the new arrangement. With more time home from all the online classes, I get to be as lazy as I want. Dad has a similar arrangement at home. He retired from being a high school gym teacher and football coach, now he tutors history at home. He also abandoned his hobby of brewing in order to laze on the sofa all day.

On weekdays, Theo would leave an abundance of food for me to consume with a list of how I should eat them to expand my capacity. The weekends are like heaven. From the moment I woke up, Theo would prepare delicious appetizers and pancakes for me. From then on, I would have a constant stream of food flowing into my mouth every thirty minutes. Sometimes, I would move my hands and my mouth would start to chew unconsciously. Alarming, but helpful. 

My belly started to expand outwards on my lap each day as I sat in front of the computer. The arm rest would feel more snug when I move around.

I have now discovered the perks of being a fatass. I can explore things I never had time to do, like the anime Brad has been begging me to watch, games I always wanted to play. Best of all is to experience all of these without moving an inch. These are the things I would definitely look back on with fondness when the competition ends.

***

Today is my rare outing of the month; the bus is late again but I don’t blame them this time. The downpour of rain is gathering at the clogged sewer, creating a puddle. People are supposed to grow out of stepping in puddles when they’re kids. These undeveloped assholes apparently didn’t. Several cars saw the puddle and decided to splash it straight to my face.

It’s fine. It’s all fine. I will feel better later.

I walked a small trail after getting off the bus.

Great. The angels decide to stop peeing from the heavens when I’m about to get inside.

Dad is buying a new SUV, maybe I can drive it next time. It’s too big to sneak off though.

I thought as I skipped through the stone pathway. The usual grass is covered by the water, creating a small pond.

“Annyeonghaseyo,” I said to the door cam.

After pressing the doorbell several times, it replied.

"안녕, fuck boy. Back so soon?" Number Seven said.

“Yeah, yeah. Just open the damn door,” I said, trying to hurry the fucker.

Number Seven’s face appears in front of me.

“You’re soaked! Come on in,” he said.

His house appears to be orderly. Clean. He must’ve had another fatass here not long ago.

“Woah, you look—Wait, let me guess. Another fifteen pounds since last time?” He asked.

“Come on, let’s cut to the chase. I really need it right now,” I urged.

“Hahaha, not even a shower. Desperate much?” He said.

I walked inside his bedroom, dimmed the lights and took off my shirt.

He walked towards me. Grabbing me by the belly hang in one hand, he pulls down my underwear, causing my ass to vibrate.

“Fuuuuck, can you take it out first?” I asked, trying not to moan.

“Sure, you think you’re ready for me today?” He asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” I answered. 

He slid his hand behind, right down my ass crack and slowly pulled the vibrator off. I applied it before leaving home, without accounting for the possibility of the bus delay.

“Mmmmph, fuck,” I groaned.

I’ve been training towards today for a while. In the beginning, I would come to his house and he would suck me off. If I’m feeling experimental, I would suck him off. It stayed like that for about a year and he never complained. Then I asked him for more. He would start fucking me between my moobs or between my ass but never enter. One day, I told him I was ready for him to start fucking me.

Big mistake.

He’s a manwhore for a reason. I didn’t think an 8-inch would be so hard to take. How the girls and twinks take them in porn is beyond me. It was painful when he entered, even when he said he had “loosened my hole” with his fingers. I shouldn’t have believed him, the fucking thing was massive.

After the incident, he gave me small dildos and vibrators to get used to it. We eventually worked our way up the scale until the one he’s holding now. Why did I do all this work to have a men’s dick in my ass? Who knows. I have already accepted that I’ve lost it.

He sucked on my nipple suddenly. The sensation took me by surprise.

“Dude, some warnings please,” I asked.

“Yeah, sorry. Those tits are just so plumped. Your nipples have grown larger than my thumbs now,” he said, about to continue.

“OKAY, I get it. Can you get to work now?” I asked.

My boobs are what everyone thinks about when they see me these days. I’m sick of it.

“Hahahaha, can’t wait to be fucked, my pig?” He said before pushing me down the mattress.

I held my belly to stop it from jiggling. 

He raised one of my legs and opened the bottle of lube with his teeth.

“There’s something by the pillow. Put it in your mouth. It will distract you and dull the initial pain,” Number Seven instructed.

I reached out to grab a—frosted pound cake?

I’ve never seen people doing this in porn, but I’m smart enough to know not everything in porn is real. 

With my mouth full of cake, I spread out my legs, trying to relax so I don’t end up like last time.

He pushed two fingers in, slowly massaging me, then three fingers to stretch my hole. When the frosting melted in my mouth and I finished the chunk of the cake, he signalled me that he was done.

Another piece of the pound cake fills my mouth when he aligns his cock to my hole. He was right, I was fully consumed by the sweetness to notice any discomfort. I quickly swallowed the cake so he could proceed. 

It was unbearably slow as he entered. I don’t understand what all the fuss is about with people bottoming.

He kept asking for reassurance. At this point I just want him to st—

“A-ahhhh oh shiiit!” I moaned.

“Fuuuuuck, what the hell was that?” I screamed.

I must have been too loud and spooked him.

“Are you alright? Sh-should I call an ambulance?” He asked.

“No! Don’t stop, please,” I begged

“Okay, just so you know, I’m not all the way in,” He said.

How? This is already longer than any toys I’ve put in there.

“Gnghhhhh~” I moaned as he thrusts all the way to the bottom.

He kept a steady pace all the way in then almost all the way out, leaving me feeling empty.

“Hurry! Faster,” I asked, almost in tears.

He looked at me with a devious smile and thrust right into the spot.

“Mphn- Yes! Keep going,” I urged.

Every small movement rubbing my G-spot feels like masturbating for hours without release.

He thrusts quicker with more force, causing my belly and moobs to shake violently. 

I try to stabilize my belly with my hand before trying to reach my throbbing cock.

“Help, I-aghh fuck, I need to touch my dick,” I asked.

“Let go of your belly, fat boy. Or I’ll stop,” He said.

Immediately, my belly returned to wobble violently.

“I can’t believe you turned into such a pathetic horny mess in such a short time,” He said.

”Come on, Seven. I just need you to hit that spot. Please, I’ll do anything!” I begged.

He keeps deliberately missing it. I need to be fucked there!

“Keep your hands on your nipples,” he ordered.

The over-sensitive nipples drive my weeping cock into a frenzy.

Fuck, I need to touch my cock right now. If only my fucking belly is not on the way.

“You know, when I first saw you, I thought you were the kind of jock to gain a beer belly in college, and not get fat until you turn thirty,” he said, before ramming straight into my prostate.

“Fuuuuck yeahhh,” I said unintelligently. 

“You are much more of a pig than I realized,” he said, thrusting straight into it again.

“Helll yeahhh,” I said, trying to rob my ass to his dick.

“How do you feel seeing your bubble butt balloons four times the original size?” He asked, followed by another thrust. 

“I fucking love it! I love how it wobbles around whenever I walk!” I said, moving my jiggling ass back to his dick again.

“How do you feel seeing your abs growing before your eyes, knowing you could stop it if you just stop eating?”Another thrust.

“I can’t help it! I love eating too much!” Maybe I am meant to be a fat ass.

“Right answer. Now you’ll get your reward,” he said and sped up, hitting the spot perfectly every time.

I imagine his face to be someone else, someone far from my league.

My cock rubbed against my sensitive underbelly, and I shot out jets of cum for what felt like forever.

As white clouded my vision, a euphoric relief spread over my body, melting me into the mattress.

“You passing out again, fuck boy?” Seven asked.

“No, just enjoying the bliss. I can’t believe so many men in the world are missing out on this,” My hole already feels empty. How am I going to go back from this?

“Aww man, I’m all sticky and shit,” I examined my body, cum shots and rain definitely don’t mix well together. Some of them even got between the fat folds. I swipe my finger in between the fat. “Oof, I stink too.”

Seven looked at me and signed. “You’re somehow still a stupid jock inside.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked.

“I got you the fast food you asked for,” he said.

“Yes!” I rushed to the kitchen.

Ignoring his stupid laugh, I microwaved the burger and fries.

The breeze of the air conditioning reminds me of something.

“Shit, I ran out here naked.”

When I ran back, he had already put my clothes in the dryer, and I got into the shower.

When I got out, Seven brought me an old shirt I left here. It fits me like a glove with half my belly exposed. He stopped laughing when I was about to throw myself on him, then brought out a shirt with the Flash’s symbol on. Probably from another fat ass he fucks. The shirt still looks painted on, revealing the shape of my nipple and the dent of my belly button. At least he’s driving me home.

***

Staying at home has been a life-altering experience. 

The only time I ever move is going out of the bed to the desk, or to the bathroom. All I have to do is sit back, relax, and eat some fried food. 

With more time with myself. I’ve realized how much I dislike all the people in school that only approached me because I was one of the football jocks. I could’ve been anyone. Now, I am me. Not a worry about whether or not I’m muscular enough like other jocks, just a bigger Jay.

Sitting beside me, Dad scratched his belly and released a belch without a care in the world. He has adapted to fat guy mannerisms quickly. I’m catching up too. Today is movie night, usually we have pizzas and beers. We started this when the football season came, he asked to skip it. It was the first time we’ve skipped watching a Super Bowl season. I guess I’m not the only one losing interest in the sport. We decided to watch the Lin-Manuel Miranda Monkey movie instead.

Being on the couch with Dad made me realize I was getting closer to my goal. I can’t wait to see the results.

***

“Hell yeah, my man, you can do it!” Brad said, slapping my shoulder.

“What are you doing here?” I asked

“You said I can come in whenever I like,” he replied.

He’s been breaking into my house for no reason, just to stay on the second floor the entire time doing god knows what.

“I’ve brought some beef jerky here to celebrate,” Brad said.  

The scale has been set up, we’re only waiting on Mom. They’re doing some last minute catch up; mom is using a funnel to pour some milkshake in him. I am not concerned though, sticking to Theo’s strict diet every day has not been easy. I have to eat until my stomach is fully bloated. Every morning, I watch my belly deflate a little less, every evening, it bloats even further. 

“Don’t worry, Jay. We’ve got this,” Theo assured me.

“By the way, what are we doing again?” Brad asked.

Dad came out, looking absolutely massive. With Mom on his side, he stepped on the scale.

The numbers keep going up and don't seem to be stopping.

300-350-392-400-443

Holy shit, Dad gained a hundred and forty pounds this year. 

With more uncertainty, I took my step on the scale.

“Woo-Hoo, Jay man, you got this!” Brad shouted quietly.

I try to look under to see the number, but my belly is too big for me to see the scale.

Theo stepped closer and read. 

“Four Hundred and fifty yes!” Theo cheered.

“I won? Yes, finally!” I said and did a little jump.

The scale made a “Pop” noise.

“Oh! Sorry, Mom. I know this is really expensive.”

“Don’t worry, sweetie. We need to upgrade anyway,” Mom said, then she walked towards Theo.

“Congratulations Theo, you made me pull out every trick in my book. It’s so nice seeing you improve so much in front of my eyes, in terms, you pushed me to improve too,” Mom said, then hugged Theo.

“I can’t believe my boy is bigger than me now. Excellent work, Jay!” Dad said and hugged me, too.

Last time I was bigger than Dad I had sculpted abs, the body I dreamed of. This time, I’m almost three times the size as I was, fully covered with fat. Yet, I feel less empty inside.

“Thank you Dad,” I said, hugging him back. 

After all this time, I finally have a body I like being in. The belly doesn't look so wrong on me anymore.

Chapter 4 ->

[woso-dreamzzz]

Mimic III

McFoord x Toddler!Reader

Summary: You're being suspicious

There is a hole underneath your fence, at the very end of the garden.

Also at the end of the garden, is a shed. It doesn't get used much so it's a little run down.

There's no connection between the hole and the fence, not an obvious one anyway. Not one that would make Caitlin investigate them both so obviously.

She's much more concerned finding out the reason for your strange behaviour.

You've been shifty recently, which is especially strange for such a little girl. Your second birthday is coming up very quickly but you've seemed to develop fairly quickly now that you've been hanging around with Sam and Kristie's Chook when Caitlin and Katie are busy.

You've also gotten shockingly independent.

There's no need for your leash when you're in the house and Caitlin's happy to let you run around the garden by yourself as she does the dishes, checking on you through the windows periodically.

You're being a little weird and what's even weirder is Coopurr's food going missing.

Caitlin's sure that she's not overfeeding him because he hasn't put on any weight but his biscuits and his wet food are going down so quickly that someone must be taking them.

That someone, it turns out, is you.

Caitlin catches you doing it one afternoon when you grab the whole box of biscuits and a sachet of wet food before toddling out to the garden.

She sighs, letting you scamper up the far side and duck behind the shed before getting up to follow you.

Caitlin really hopes you haven't been eating them like you were when you were younger.

"Gremlin!" She calls," Don't take-"

A puffed up ball of fur hisses at her from where it's dangling from the scruff of it's neck in your hand.

"What is that?!"

"My Spicy!" You say proudly," Spicy, Spicy, Spicy!"

"Katie!" Caitlin yells," You better come out here!"

You're still holding the kitten by the back of the neck, humming to yourself as Caitlin notices the pile of cat food you're been hoarding.

She crouches in front of you, gently reaching for the kitten before flinching back when it tries to scratch her. "Where...Where did you find it?"

"Stuck under fence," You tell Caitlin," I save Spicy."

Caitlin forces a smile on her face. "That's nice. How long have you been looking after him?"

"One week," You reply," My Spicy is special!"

Caitlin warily shuffles closer, kept at bay by the flashing claws off this feral kitten.

"You're being very good with Spicy but can I have him?"

You frown. "Spicy's hungry."

"I'll feed him."

"Caitlin? What's-"

Katie skids to a stop in front of you both, mouth hanging open and discarded dish towel on her shoulder from where she was using it to dry the dishes.

"Spicy, my kitty!" You exclaim," See?"

Spicy snarls and Katie very gently throws the dish towel at him before taking him from your grip.

"Spicy!" You cry, moving to kick Katie but Caitlin's already got you by the back of your overalls, dangling you above the ground as you whine," My Spicy!"

"Katie's just...taking Spicy for a bath."

"I am?"

"Yes, Katie, you are and then we'll take Spicy to the vet."

Secretly, Caitlin hopes the vet will tell her that she needs to take the kitten to the shelter. She doesn't particularly want it in her house but you seem to have gotten attached, if the way you keep fighting against her hold is any indication.

"Want Spicy! Spicy's mine!"

There's that as well and, when Katie comes downstairs with the kitten suitably pissed off and still hissing, you go straight up to it for cuddles and it relaxes in your arms.

"No vet for Spicy!" You insist," Spicy's good!"

"I'm sure Spicy is..." Katie's arms are full of scratches. "...Tolerable but we still need to check he's not sick."

"Then bring home!"

"I don't know, Gremlin, he might want to be with other cats." Katie's very proud of herself for coming up with that excuse, mentally patting herself on the back even as Caitlin shakes her head in disbelief.

You unwrap her excuse so easily, pointing to where Coopurr is sitting, licking his own bum.

"Have Coopurr," You point out," Coopurr is cat. Spicy is cat."

"Er..."

"We keep Spicy," You declare, nodding and rocking your new kitten," Spicy, new home!"

[softieekayy]

Intertwined

Hannibal Lecter x reader

Word count: 1.8k

Hannibal Lecter was a stoic man with stoic impressions. He did his job, he left and he came home. Not many people knew much about him and the one who did, Will Graham, was a mystery of his own.

Having said that, there was one person who knew his entire soul, for their souls were entangled with each other. Hannibal’s wife. She knew him and his antics like the back of her hand. It was to be expected, especially since they’ve known eachother since Hannibal was a young man in medical school and her a young teenage girl with a crush on him. He never entertained it through, no, he always taught her things that she found useful later in life. It was fate who decided that they would spend the rest of their lives together.

Hannibal would do anything for his wife, she was his sun, moon and entire universe. He worshiped the floor she walked on. Not to mention that the young Mrs. Lecter was a beautiful woman with shiny hair and satin like skin. She was ethereal and people often thought she was an angel posing as one of their kind simply because of her beauty. Her beauty didn’t end physically, not at all. The young woman was a saint. She wouldn't hurt a fly, in fact, she would nourish it and then set it free.

“Why is he so hard to cut up!” (Y/n) whined to her husband, stomping down her expensively clad feet in a tantrum, blood seeping into her satin, champagne coloured shirt, staining the material. In one hand she held a butcher's knife with blood coating it, the body beneath her indicating the frustration she very obviously felt.

“Well, darling” Hannibal grunted, “cutting people with knives like this isn’t easy.”

“Yeah I see that now, my love.” She muttered back, reverting to her former position on her knees and hacking away at Mr. Zaine Lammer’s arm. A disgusting man he was, objectifying Hannibal’s wife to him. The dinner the couple held was for charity. Just because they killed people didn’t mean they were monsters. (Y/n) still loved and cared about children and would never harm them, they can be tuned and molded into anything you’d like. Unfortunately the same cannot be said for adults.

Hannibal looked over to his, completely entranced by the pure and utter annoyance on her face. She knew Hannibal killed, it wasn’t a secret to her. She’s helped with the crimes. However, (Y/n) preferred the killing and setting up the scene part, she did not like the hacking away at the body. No, she left that to her dear husband to do. Not that Hannibal minded. He’d prefer for her to not get touched by the blood of filth.

“Ugh. I give up. I can’t do this anymore.” The young woman stated, throwing her hands up in exasperation. Hannibal laughed at his wife’s reaction, making her glare at him.

“Don’t laugh at me Hans!” She told him, a small smile threatening to break out on her face. Hannibal looked at her, not saying anything but rather just observing. His wife was the most beautiful lady to have ever walked the earth. An angel that was put amongst sinners. He put down his knife and walked over to her, putting one arm around her waist and tugging her closer to his body, her hands resting on his chest.

“Hi.” She whispered softly with an equally soft smile gracing her face.

“Hello.” Hannibal whispered back, leaning down to steal a quick kiss from his wife.

He remembers meeting her like yesterday. She was a young little thing, younger than him, about 8-9 years or so. Yet when Hannibal saw her, she was the most beautiful person he’d ever set eyes on. The young woman had just been coming into the book store, soaked from the rain outside, hair sticking to her face and yet she still had a smile painted on her dark red lips. Hannibal watched her as she greeted the older man who ran the shop warmly before shedding her coat to let it hang. She turned around and caught Hannibal staring yet she gave him a smile too. Her quick movements reminded Hannibal of a cat, yet when he looked into her eyes for a brief moment, he saw his own reflection.

“I’ve never seen you around here.” She tells him, running her fingers across the spines of books before pulling one out. It was an old book with a forest green cover.

“I don’t live here, I’m just here to visit my aunt.” Hannibal didn’t tell her that Lady Murasaki was long dead and that he was just here to visit her grave. His aunt was a crucial part of his life, she shaped him into the man he is today.

The young woman nodded in acknowledgment, her hair moving along with it.

“Well it’s nice to meet you..” She trailed off, waiting for Hannibal to introduce himself.

“Hannibal lecter.” The older man introduced himself, shaking her hand gently. It was as soft as she looked. In return (Y/n) introduced herself. The two grabbed their books and spoke about everything and anything. Hannibal learned that she went to medical school here and frequented this bookstore often, hence her close relationship with the owner. Hannibal told her of Lady Murasaki and how he’s in charge of keeping her home. Before they knew it, time had passed and it was the dead of night, Hannibal walked her home and from there it took them to now. A married couple.

“We should really clean up.” (Y/n) grimaced, pulling away from Hannibal’s embrace to look at the mess on the floor. Hannibal agreed with her, the blood won’t come out easily if it’s been too long.

Hannibal pulled away from the embrace and went back to chopping up the man while his wife began to mix the solutions for cleaning.

Within another hour or so they were done. (Y/n) stood at the entrance of the basement with her hands over her hips, heaving lightly from all the scrubbing she did. Her once neatly done hair was now falling out of its place messily. Hannibal disposed of the meat in the freezer before walking back to his wife and kissing her on the side of her head, gently leading her upstairs with his hand on the small of her back.

“With all that leftover meat, we ought to have another dinner party. There’s only so much we alone can eat.” (Y/n) grumbled to Hannibal as they both reached the first floor of their home. She walked into the kitchen and took out two wine glasses before pouring her and Hannibal some.

“I agree.” Hannibal nodded. “We should invite Will, Jack Crawford and Alana Bloom for dinner these days.” He finished, taking a sip of his wine, watching his wife’s stare on him harden.

“You know I don’t like her yet you keep inviting her. Don’t be surprised if she ends up as our dinner one day.” (Y/n) warns him, anger seeping through her voice. The young brunette clearly had a crush on Hannibal, everyone around her could tell. Hannibal used that crush to manipulate her. His wife on the other hand, wasn't too fond of another woman making heart eyes at someone who belonged to her.

“You worry for no reason, even in death my heart will belong to you. Alana Bloom can’t match your intelligence or grace.” Hannibal comforted his wife, running his hand up and down her arm and she tucked herself closer into him. The younger woman hummed in response, taking Hannibal’s hand in her own and playing around with his fingers.

“I still don’t like her. That smug little face she makes towards me whenever you talk to her. All I can think about at that moment is how nice my hair pin would look coated in her blood.” (Y/n)‘s hand clutched tightly around Hannibal’s as she thought about Alana bloom. The brunette woman never failed to enrage Hannibal’s wife.

“She’s not worth you pretty little thoughts.” The older man told his wife, dragging his nose from the back of her neck to the side of her head, planting a living kiss. (Y/n) smiled slyly, turning her body to face him fully.

“You think me wanting to feel Alana’s blood on my hands is pretty?” She asked him, still smiling and toying with his hair. Hannibal latched his arm around her waist and pulled her atop him.

“I think everything you do is pretty.” He tells her and she hums. The two sit in silence for a while, sipping on their wine. No need for mindless chatter, being by each other's side was all that they needed. Hannibal knew that his wife would never betray him under any circumstances and she knew that Hannibal would never do anything to harm her. However they both knew that to drag attention away from one another, they may need to harm each other. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, it ripped Hannibal’s heart apart to even think about hurting his pretty little wife. His pretty wife with doe eyes. His pretty wife with a sinister smile. The two were a match in every sense possible, both hunters who enjoyed the art of killing. They were skilled and under Hannibal’s expertise and care, his young wife went from an amateur to someone just as talented as Hannibal.

“It's getting late, moonshine.” Hannibal uttered into her hair, nosing her hairline. She was wrapped around him, like a cat. Hannibal thought that if reincarnation was real then his wife must’ve been a cat in her past life.

“Yes, honey, I know. However there are no plans set in place for tomorrow.” She grinned, turning around and crawling onto him fully now. Hannibal held his wife by the waist, grinning.

“Are you suggesting we stay up late tonight Mrs. Lecter?” He asked her, caressing her hair. The two smiled like a lovesick teen age couple. So in love that it made others sick. Jack Crawford was one of them, he’d known the famous Mrs. Lecter since he’d met Hannibal.

“Yes I am. In fact, I’m suggesting that we go out for some ice cream.” She tells him, running a finger down the buttons of his shirt. Hannibal gasps in faux shock.

“Scandalous. You’re so very scandalous.” He tells her, shaking his head in disappointment. They both know it’s just an act anyway, Hannibal would bend over back wards for her. (Y/n) giggled before getting up and grabbing her coat. She waited for Hannibal to join her giddily, like a child who had far too much sugar.

“Shall we go?” Hannibal asked her, offering his arm for her to hold. (Y/n)’s hand softly tucked itself into the crook of Hannibal's arm as they headed out. Into the dark of the night, like wolves hunting for prey.

Tagging my lovelies: @jake-g-lockley @shawty-writes-a-little <3

[bueckersbitch]

winter things - paige bueckers x reader

⟡ warnings : sexual innuendo!

⟡ word count : 2.5k

⟡ authors note : a late christmas gift for you guysssss ;) i highly recommend listening to winter things by ariana grande while reading! hope you guys had an amazing day!

⟡ taglist : @sierrale8ne @thaatdigitaldiary @pboogerswbb @lupinqs @bueckersfive @xxloveralways14 @d3arapril @mrsarnold @rosemariiaa @janaelalfysblunt @lovegalor333

2024~ Chatter from the tv stays prominent, Grey’s Anatomy playing, Paige’s choice, of course. Sherpa blanket cocooning you and her, hot chocolate snug in your right hand, warmth spreading from the bear mug onto your hand. Storrs was beautiful at this time of year, right before the holidays, Paige had invited you over to her family’s house for Christmas this year, so here you were, together, on your apartment’s couch, a couple days before your flight to Maryland. You glance over at Paige, blonde hair tugged into a bun, eyes fluttering in and out of sleep, arm against your waist, while her head lays on your chest. Her nose was tinged pink, as you insisted on keeping your apartment cold to stay “in the holiday spirit”. Paige, ever the noticer, feels your eyes on her, “Hey baby.” She smiles, before closing her eyes and using her free hand to pull you into a soft kiss.

Quiet hums of content leave both of your mouths, soft lips moving in unison. Paige pulls away first, at her own dismay, staying close to you while whispering, “I have an early present for you baby.” Your eyes widened, you both had agreed to ship presents to Bob’s house in Maryland, no early presents. You should’ve known though, Paige wasn’t foreign to springing surprises onto you, not even just at Christmas time, but throughout the entire year. “Angel, I thought we said no early presents this year?” Paige’s pink lips turn into a grin, “S’nothing, for real, just something I couldn’t ship to my dads house.”

Obviously, your eyebrows furrow, as the only thing Paige wouldn’t be able to send to Bob’s house would be something related to s- “And no, it’s not like that, you really should get your mind outta the gutter.” Paige interrupts your thoughts, nodding her head in disapproval, but was it really your fault for thinking that, just yesterday you opened your apartment door, took one look at the christmas tree, and beneath it? A box from a sex shop, innocently tied with a red ribbon bow around it. Your girlfriend turning the corner with those cheesy rizz hands.

“I wasn’t even thinking that Madison…” Paige suppresses a laugh at this, she knew you, in and out. She sheds the blanket from her, her black sports bra and green plaid pajama pants coming into view, before interlocking her hands with yours, pulling you from your spot on the couch, one that you had been in the last three hours.

Paige guides you to your kitchen island, pulling out the stool for you, “Sit, and no peeking!” You nod, wondering what tricks she had up her sleeve this time. “Okay, make sure those eyes are closed ma!” Paige calls out from the spare room. “They are!” You hear shuffling from behind you, before faint grunts and the sound of wrapping paper moving on the surface in front of you. “Open, baby” Paige says, out of breath. You open your eyes, being met with an interestingly wrapped figure in front of you, half the size of you, at least.

You turn to Paige, being met with the same eager face you see every time she gets you something, her fingers are pulled to her mouth, anxiously biting at her fingernails. When she realizes you’re looking at her, her hands drop to her sides, a swift, “Well, open it!” Ushering out of her mouth. Tearing through the pink wrapping paper, decorated with cats, the soft fur of a plush toy grazes your fingers. You know immediately.

Paige was always upset she couldn’t just put you in her pocket and take you everywhere she went, away games, award shows, you name it, the girl had attachment issues. So, instead of bringing you everywhere, she brought back jellycats, the plush toy correlating to each place she went in some way. You urged her to stop, trying to tell her to not spend so much money on things for you, but as much as you hated the amount she was willing to spend on things that may be viewed as “child-like”, you had taken a liking to the corner of your bed, where the cutest stuffed animals had piled up.

You finally shed all the wrapping paper off the gift, a huge white bunny staring back at you. Your eyes tinge with tears, lips tucked together, trying not to let your emotions get the best of you. You jump onto Paige, arms around her neck, while hers wrap around your waist, you both fall to the floor, “Well? Do you like it baby?” You giggle, unwrapping your arms from around her neck, placing both hands beside her head, pushing up just enough to see her face, blonde hair spread like a halo around her, adding to the never ending list of her angel like qualities. “Like it? Are you actually kidding? I told you to stop spending so much money on these!!” Of course, you knew the big cuddly bunny had cost her upwards of $500, you were thinking of buying it yourself for your bedroom. “Stop saying that ma, y’know money means nothing to me, because you’re everything to me.” You see tears from your eyes fall onto Paige’s cheeks, her hand gripping your waist a little tighter as she pulls you into her, stroking your hair as you tell her you love her, over and over.

It was now 3:00 pm, your mittened hand was holding Paige’s as the two of you drove to a cute outdoor christmas tree farm, and even though the chill of the outside was unwavering, your pink puffer jacket, double lined flare leggings, and ugg boots kept you warm, you weren’t foreign to the cold, as you had grown up in Maine. “Winter Things” by Ariana Grande was softly playing through the speakers. Obviously, you were singing the song to the blonde next to you, her small grin peeking through. Her hair was down now, black hoodie that fit a little too tight around her arms, black sweatpants, and since you had insisted on matching in some way, she had thrown on her ugg tasman slippers.

You put on your earmuffs, while Paige puts on her “Supreme” beanie, before Paige swings around to the passenger side of the car, opening your door so you could step out of the car. You were immediately met with the chill New England air, nose and lips going numb by the second. Paige takes your hand in hers, looking down at you before closing her eyes and kissing the top of your head.

Hand in hand, Paige pays for your guys tickets to the activities they had set up at the farm. Sitting down on a bench, you watch Paige lace up her ice skates quickly, murmuring out a, “I’m gon put yours on, don’t even worry about it ma” You wait patiently, taking in your surroundings, a wood concessions stand with chalk drawings of holiday items covering it to your right, while the ice rink was right in front of you. The rink was secluded by tall pine trees, fairy lights strung over head of the rink, and speakers nestled within the trees, playing every christmas song you could think of. Paige drops to her knees, big hands taking your right foot, sliding your ugg boot off and into the ice skate, lacing it up and tying a pretty bow to finish. She repeats the action with your left foot, but as you both stand, Paige wobbles, hand reaching out to find something to grab onto. You offer your hand for balance, laughing at the fearful look in her eyes, and the way she was slightly hunched over, trying to distribute her weight well enough to stand. “I promise you it;s not that funny” Her sassy side coming out, rolling her eyes at your reaction to the situation, “And I promise it is!” You tease her for a little before stepping onto the ice, easily gliding around the rink, lapping Paige multiple times while she holds onto the side rails. You finally slow down, reaching Paige, you take her hand, her frustrated face calming at your touch, you look up at her, “You would think all that footwork on the court would translate well to the rink.” Paige tugs her lips into a tight line, letting out a deep breath she didn’t know she was holding, “Ha. Ha. Real funny, must be because i’m so tall” She concludes, proud with her answer. “Okay what… That doesn’t even make sense.” You counter, Paige grabs your face in her hands, “Can you just let me have that one thing baby?” How could you say no, when her bright blue eyes were wide, and questioning you. But, as soon as she lets go of your face, she lands right on her butt, you can’t help but let out a laugh, earning looks from the three other people on the rink. Paige groans, laying down fully, accepting her fate at this point. You see her eyes shoot open, then she sits up, abruptly taking your hand and pulling you down onto her, “Baby! Stop laughing at me!” She says as she tickles you, a good 10 seconds pass, the both of you still on the ground, she takes your face in her hand once again, kissing all over your face, “Say you’re sorry!” Your eyes are tightly shut, bracing yourself for all the kisses she was giving you, “Okay, OKAY! I’m sorry!” Paige stops, pulling away, then pulling you into a long kiss.

2031~ Your eyes flutter open to your wife kissing all over your face, pulling you out of a deep sleep. “G’morning mama” she says, you groan, rubbing your eyes awake, trying to shake the sleep from yourself. After paige had gone #1 in the 2025 draft, you dropped everything to leave Connecticut to live with her in Dallas. After three years playing for the Wings, Paige had requested a trade, tired of the Texas scenery. It had landed her in San Francisco, with the Valkyries. But now, it was Christmas morning, the warm light of your chandelier created a soft glow on Paige’s face. Your legs were intertwined with hers, the comfortable temperature of California in December meant you could sleep with just underwear and a small tank top, it also meant you could have that intimate skin to skin contact with your lover, Paige wearing boxers and a sports bra. You pull yourself out of bed and over to the dresser, throwing on some plaid pajama shorts, and tugging a perfect pink santa hat with your name embroidered on the rim. You open a drawer, reaching for the matching pajama pants Paige had, taking her hat with her name. You toss the clothing over to her. A faint knocking comes from outside your bedroom door, you look at Paige, both smiling, knowing what would accompany it. “Mama? Mom? Santa came!” Your heart gushes at the soft voice, muffled by the barrier of your bedroom door.

Swinging the door open, the hand of your daughter grips yours, pulling you out of your room, “Adelaide! Honey, slow down! We have to wait for Mom!” Your daughter stops, looking up at you with big brown eyes. She was five, and her name had been chosen because of you and Paige’s trip to Australia, the place where you had drunkenly told her you were ready for kids. Here you were, five years later, with the cutest daughter you could ever ask for. You ruffle her hair, and she crosses her arms, frustratingly saying, “Well she should’ve been ready.” Right on queue, hands come up from behind you, holding your waist, looking over your shoulder, the blonde says, “I’m sorry honey, you’re right! I shoulda been ready!” Adelaide grabs one of each of your hands, tugging you guys down the stairs, and to the 8 foot tall Christmas tree in the living room. You and Paige grabbed a blanket, sitting down on the couch, heads on each other. You watched Adelaide, a small frame running around the tree, trying to decide what to open first, Paige occasionally saying something to her mini. Your hands went to your necklace, the one that Paige had given you in your stocking last night, a cartier panthère necklace. Paige notices your nerves, of course. “She’ll love everything ma, she’s literally us.” You sigh, nodding your head at the realization of your happy family. “Okay! Mama, Mom, this one first!” You both look at your daughter, pointing to the biggest gift of them all, Paige hollers out a “Woohoo!” Adelaide rips through the wrapping, eyes lighting up with excitement, “Barbie! Barbie!” She squealed out, jumping up and down at the sight of a Barbie Dreamhouse. You and Paige both laugh at the joy of your daughter, knowing she had been wanting one since her birthday in October. “Nailed it.” Paige whispers in your ear, offering a fist bump to you. She got up, running over to the small girl, putting her hands in her armpits and hoisting her into the air, catching her and nuzzling her head. Your nerves had worn off, first gift jitters soothed as you watched your daughter and your wife. Snuggling into the comfort of your couch, you braced yourself for the long morning ahead, because you and your wife had obviously decided to spoil your daughter rotten.

2064~ Hot chocolate in your hand, you rocked in your rocking chair, looking at your wife, married for 39 years. Wrinkles had now taken to her face, a beautiful reflection of the long and fulfilling life she had lived. You both resided in Maine now, Paige retiring her career, she had promised you that you could pick anywhere to live, feeling bad for you having to follow wherever the W took her, even though you consistently told her that she was your home.

You chose Maine, a small town called Portland, the town being ever welcoming to all people. You found what you were looking for in Portland, a town where everyone had silently agreed to not let the outside world in on every movement between you and Paige. Off the radar. That’s what you wanted. Of course, having the attention of supporters made you feel all the love, but you wanted your final years to be calm, let Paige’s legacy do the talking for her, instead of constant interviews and photos taken of her.

Paige agreed with you, the overwhelming pressure had no doubt weighed on her shoulders, and she made her mark. She knew that. Paige looks at you, her hair was back to its natural color now, brown, except now it had some grey in it, “Beautiful, just like you.” She refers to the colors of the sky, orange, mixed with pale pink and lavender purple, an effect of the day coming to an end. Christmas being a tradition at your guys’ house now, your daughters, Adelaide, and Eloise, flying in with their families. A creak comes from the door behind you, “Mama? Mom? Dinner’s ready!” Your daughter Adelaide called. “One second honey.” You got out, before resting your head on Paige's shoulder, breathing in her perfume, content with the life you guys had made.

[justporo]

Headcanons for the companions reuiniting after a few months

Ok, but imagine Astarion and Tav invite their friends over for a reunion during winter time!

Obviously it's Tav's idea and Astarion isn't into it at first but he thinks it's kinda cute how into it Tav is

Gale is enlisted as sous-chef, he doesn't have a choice

The wizard also spices up things decor wise with some magic, Shadowheart also helps make look everything incredible

Tav and Gale make all the dishes, heaps of them, loads - no one will go home without having gained at least three pounds of weight; Astarion picks out wine and drinks

And when everyone arrives it's just a whoooole big cheerful mess: hugs, smooches, screaming, excited hopping up and down (and obligatory snarls and hisses from some because it's just a lot of love going around)

The house is full of laughter and talk the whole night

Karlach hangs out under mistletoe for a suspicious amount of time to give little pecks to everyone excitedly

Halsin has brought individually whittled ducks for everyone - Lae'zel claims she hates hers but then she's seen carefully turning it around in her hands the whole night

Jaheira, Wyll and Astarion get into a fierce discussion of Baldurian politics over several bottles of wine - by the end they're in a screaming match (affectionately) and Jaheira ends it by dragging on pointy ears and horns using her mom voice on Wyll and Astarion

Shadowheart tells the others how she's overcome her former beliefs and how she made a new life for herself causing the whole party to fall silent for a moment, even some tears might be shed; "Have you all gotten soft in the last months? Ugh!" Shadowheart says and with that the spell is broken, although she still gets a lot of hugs and told how proud everyone is (she claims she hates it, but everyone sees the light blush and the telltale shining wet eyes)

Gale brought Tara and her and Scratch hang out in front of the fireplace, maybe even Boo

At one point Jaheira and Halsin join them in cat wildshape - then Boo has to watch himself while being playfully chased around by the cats and the tressym - Minsc meanwhile completely loses it while he chomps away on more food

Lae'zel shows off her knife skills by artfully seperating whatever meat dish is set in front of her from the bones

Later Halsin and everyone else who wants to join sneak out the backdoor to the small garden for a little smoking session - even Wyll joins and they all come back with some giddy chuckles

Maybe all of them play like charades at the end: Astarion is amazingly good at it (because let's face it he's so dramatic usually he's good at portraying things) - you and him are just a dreamteam, Karlach is just super excited, Lae'zel doesn't get it at first but then is overly competitive, Minsc doesn't fully understand what's going on but he's just vibing, Wyll overcomplicates everything while Shadowheart keeps rolling her eyes and sighing in annoyance, Halsin and Jaheira just keep watching while chatting and having more drinks, Gale screams the loudest with suggestions that are oddly specific and not even close to what's the solution

The little townhouse in Baldur's Gate is filled with love, light and laughter through the whole night - promises to repeat this have already been made

Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @azukiel @hereliesblackdragon

[smoke-and-silver]

The Ghouls + Rut Season

Headcanons of the Ghouls in rut, as requested! This is for the current + recent ghouls. Happy to do previous eras upon request.

General / All characters:

Ghouls get a shiny horn upgrade just before rut: the outer layers shed as the horns grow bigger . You'll see them rubbing against things and polishing their horns a lot during this time as the outer layers flake off to reveal new horn underneath.

The ghouls are feverish and hot their entire cycle as the rut raises their body temperature.

There's a lot of tussling as their hormones have them clacking horns and sparring like deer. Some brawls can look or sound scary to humans, but it's all in good fun to them. They're just roughhousing to show off.

That's just within the pack, though. If someone outside of the ministry makes a move on their desired mate, it can get pretty gnarly.

Ghouls under the cut. Obviously NSFW.

Aether

The most subtle. A bit flushed and clammy but otherwise you wouldn't guess anything had changed.

It's very easy for him to get distracted, though. You give him a quick hug at breakfast and his cereal bowl is abandoned as he follows after you with his tail flicking.

Quintessence ghouls have a hazy scent during rut, like dark amber. Aether is the most fond of scenting. He does it every time you're canoodling in some secluded corner of the cathedral. He's not possessive, but he likes knowing that the other ghouls smell him on you.

He does get more protective. He's territorial of the ministry, marking the outside pillars with his horns to warn other demons away. Some unfamiliar men visit on business, and he chokes back an instinctual growl that starts to rise from his throat when he sees them shaking hands with you.

He doesn't spar much. One, because he's not generally aggressive, and two, because he's very large, and the other ghouls hesitate to challenge him.

It's an evening in the main hall when he finally flexes a bit. The heat in his veins is getting to him as he watches you from across the room, and a petty spat between two other ghouls is getting loud and irritating.

The demons bump your chair roughly in their scuffle and Aether has had enough. He buts in with his horns and growls at them to "knock it off". His voice is about two octaves deeper than usual. The surprised ghouls stumble back, and then slink away sheepishly.

Well, naturally you want to show your gratitude after that very attractive display, and the room is empty now...

Aurora

The MOST likely to brawl. Her claws are already rated E for Everyone and during rut it's amped up to 11. She'll tussle with anyone. Sometimes she'll sneak up to another ghoul and nip at them just to instigate it.

Remember that it's mostly just play to them. Nothing to worry about. She does LOVE to show off for you though, and is usually the one victorious.

If she were seriously fighting someone you would know, as real threats or serious challengers are quickly cowed by one of her deafening lion-like roars.

She's like a furnace during rut. You can feel the warmth coming off her. Her cheeks are constantly ruddy like she's just ran a mile.

Utterly insatiable. Most every night she's at your door tapping and scratching at it with her claws until you let her in. If she's feeling extra romantic she'll come in through the window instead.

[gore/bloody] Girl will straight up present her defeated opponents to you. The ministry has many enemies and she has much less restraint during rut. She has absolutely presented you with a severed head like a cat leaving a dead bird at its owner's feet.

You can't even help with congregation without seeing her in the pews, waiting to pounce the moment the sermon is over. She waves at you cheekily when you meet her eyes.

Don't think she's not tender! She's incredibly sweet with you every time you make love--and she insists on calling it that, "making love".

When you're not getting hot and heavy she's still locking lips with you. You've both been caught and scolded multiple times for making out when you're supposed to be working. She just needs to feel your hands on her during rut and, you're not opposed to all the extra attention.

Cirrus

Not interested in sparring or wrestling with anyone. Brawling doesn't interest her and if someone threatens you or the ministry she's just going for the throat. There's not much "challenge" to it.

Although... if you seem interested when the other ghouls spar, if she feels like it'll impress you or make you happy... well, she'll do it just to see you get all excited and aroused.

She kind of "takes care of" herself at first, not wanting to burden you with her heightened libido. When you assure her that you can handle it though, all bets are off. She pauses for a moment and starts stepping towards you, backing you against the wall right then and there...

She likes to mark you the most out of everyone. You are absolutely littered with hickeys and lovebites. She thinks it's so pretty to see you laid out naked in front of her with all of her marks on you. It's an added bonus if someone else gets to see it peeking out from your clothes, too.

She likes a little more ceremony to her 'mating' than most ghouls in their delirious lusty ruts, often bringing something to present you with before she drags you off for some privacy, even if it's something as simple as a rose.

But some nights, some nights it all reaches a boil--the hormones, the heat, your scent still clinging to her sheets--and she simply goes feral. She crawls into your bed and takes you wildly, no words even forming on her lips, just deep growls and broken, guttural infernal speech.

Cumulus

She doesn't typically initiate brawls but she's quite excited to participate in them and loves it when someone challenges her. They had better be prepared though because she is the most muscular ghoulette and knows how to use it.

She's especially excited to brawl when you're around and it gives her a chance to impress you. She'll stop mid-fight while she has her opponent pinned and gleefully wave to you, hoping that you're enjoying the show.

Yes, she flexes for you. Everything in her system right now is telling her to impress you and she takes any chance to start removing her shirt to show you the guns.

Oh man, this stage equipment is heavy and she's getting sooo hot moving it around!

Oh no, the windows needed a wash and her shirt is sooo wet! She can't possibly leave it on now.

Not very territorial or anything like some of the others, but very eager to scent you. Her smell is like a spring breeze, like clover, and she loves to rub it on you whenever she can.

She's on you constantly. Doesn't care if you're in the middle of cooking or prayer, she's pulling you flush against her and purring raunchy things in your ear, giggling and nipping at your neck until she's convinced you to have some fun.

She's not private about it. Unless you would prefer otherwise, she likes to show you off right in front of the other ghouls, placing you on the counter right there so she can please you with her strong fingers.

Dewdrop

The poor man is downright feverish the entire cycle. He's flushed and breathing heavily and his hormones and sparring instincts make him snippy with the other males.

Oh, but he's so good for you. He melts into your touch when you hold his face in your hands as if it soothes all the fire in him.

As if he isn't lewd enough on a normal day, he's downright filthy during his rut. He has the most impure ideas for every piece of furniture in the cathedral and he relays them to you in detail.

You two are forcibly excused from mass when he starts feeling you up right in the middle of it. He'd let you have him right there in the aisle if you weren't opposed to it, onlookers be damned.

When you catch him jacking himself off he doesn't stop, he slows down a little to give you a show. He loves to do it while you're watching. You can give him a hand or just sit and watch, either way he's begging you to go further afterwards. He needs you inside of him or needs to be inside of you.

Not super territorial, but he does love sparring. Wrestling with a friend is a good way to blow off steam and he doesn't mind if he looks cool kicking someone's ass and manages to impress you.

It's really hard for him to focus on much else but you when he's flooded with hormones like this. He can't help it. All that's on his mind day and night is feeling you against him and burying himself inside of you.

But when he eats you out or sucks you off, that's when he really loses his mind. He's already so painfully horny and the scent of your sex totally overtakes him and makes his mind hazy. You're not leaving for the night.

Don't hold it against him if he's a little sappier than usual, or if his kisses are a little longer. It's not just about mating; rut makes him needy for comfort and attention too. It takes a lot of energy out of these ghouls, and often leaves them sore, so the extra comfort means a lot to him right now.

Mountain

Obviously the earth ghouls rut the most. The elk of the forest are where the term comes from. He sheds velvet from his horns during the season and the look of blackened demon blood dripping from horns is pretty sick.

His rack is hands down the most impressive and lets him stand up to even Aether in a duel. He is giddy if you compliment the horns, tail flicking around happily knowing his appearance pleases you.

The most territorial, the most willing to brawl, the most protective. Earth ghouls have the strongest rut instinct. It's hard for him to even see you talking to another ghoul without daydreaming about taking you right in front of them. The daydream gets him hard and flustered and he sheepishly approaches you to ask for some "help".

An incident occurs when a visiting diplomat kisses your hand and a hormone-fueled Mountain has him backed up to the wall in seconds, gnarly horns at the man's throat and growls rumbling from deep in the demon's chest.

You manage to soothe him by petting his chest and asking him to stand down. After a few moments he reluctantly releases the man, who scurries off.

His head clears and Mountain quickly apologizes, but honestly, it was the hottest thing ever, and you're pulling him in to make out. By the time the diplomat tattles about being "attacked by a demon" you've already backed Mountain into the nearest chair to ride him.

It's part of his mating display to show that he can provide. He'll lead you out into the woods where he's set up a spot to sit together and brought more food than you can eat, but he's eager to watch you eat it, fill up on it. He hopes if you're satisfied that you'll accept him and let him pleasure you.

Phantom

Poor, poor sweet boy. It hits him the hardest. He is absolutely the most sensitive. Even feeling up his arm or kissing his cheek a few times gets him worked up. Smile at him across the room long enough and he'll get hard, honestly.

He's embarrassed to approach you about it at first, so you'll have to encourage him. He's quite enthusiastic once you reassure him that you don't mind, though.

He finds it fun to engage in some of the sparring matches, but honestly he's kind of inexperienced in fighting and gets thrown around easily. He's such a good sport about it though and he's laughing most of the time, so it puts everyone in a good mood.

His scent is very subtle and his horns pretty simple and small, so he tries to groom himself really nicely, hoping you'll still enjoy his appearance. Maybe puts a little soft perfume or cologne on hoping it will help entice you.

Your scent makes him crazy. It distracts him instantly when you step into the room. He can track you down anywhere in the ministry, every instinct in his body driving him blindly towards the sweet smell. You don't really hear him come in and so you jump a little when his arms slip around you and he buries his face in your neck to breathe you in.

Please let him have you. His voice is low and breathy as he begs you to let him breed you, or to breed him. You feel so warm against him it makes his head swim. His hands are shyly nudging under your shirt as he tells you how badly he needs it.

His libido is highest at night, when the ministry falls quiet. He feels terrible keeping you awake but you're so pretty laid out on your bed with the silver moonlight from your window illuminating your soft body, and he's so painfully hard.

[kink/somno warning] He'd never think of the idea himself, but if you offered to let him relieve his urges while you sleep, he's so grateful. He worships your body with kisses, always cleans you up perfectly, and always showers you with praise and thanks the next morning.

Rain

Pretty flushed and sensitive during his rut, though not so much as Phantom. He's very pliant when you approach him, willing to let you pull him away somewhere or climb up on his lap any time you want.

Beware that he has the most endurance and he will overstimulate and breed the fuck out of you. He's sweet and passionate but there's an unavoidable mess after your long sessions. You both need a bath afterwards and he ends up taking you in there too.

He makes a good little love nest in his room and honestly just keeps you there the whole cycle if you'll allow it. You don't have to do a thing. He'll keep you fed and groom you and all you have to do is lay there and be his good baby and let him pleasure you.

Not much for the sparring like other ghouls but he likes to egg the others on mischievously. Sometimes he'll nip at someone while they're not looking and pin it on another ghoul. Then he'll use the ensuing brawl as a distraction to drag you off somewhere.

--and, sometimes that is literal. When his hormones are really raging he'll just throw you over his shoulder, or bind your hands with the nearest thing he can find and quite literally drag you away, while telling you everything he's about to do once you're secluded.

Your excited giggles and little squeals make his heart flutter.

He is just as excited when you take him just as roughly. You can tie his hands to the headboard and he's already squirming with an eager, breathy "yes, yes!" escaping his lips before you've even climbed atop him.

He is so vocal when you do sink down on his cock and ride him. You're so warm and he's so sensitive right now. He does not care who in the ministry hears his absolutely whorish moans.

Swiss

As if he wasn't already unhinged.

The way he writhes and ruts against the floor on stage? Imagine him flooded with demonic hormones and out of his mind horny.

Wait, that's still how he normally is. Imagine that doubled. Mans will literally grind against your leg like a dog.

He's dying to pleasure you, honestly. It's a common sight to see him on his knees in front of you, panting with his tongue out as he waits for you to ride his face. He wants to drown in the scent of your sex, squished between your thighs.

He is constantly hard, his cock straining against his pants almost 24/7. He'll start to calm down and then he catches your scent on the air and he's stiff again. He tries to wear looser clothes during rut.

Of course, he loves to spar. He's already rowdy on a daily basis, he loooooves when rut rolls around and he gets to roughhouse with the other ghouls. It's a very nice bonus that he gets to show off for you, naturally!

Which brings us to territorial instincts. Swiss is the farthest from aggressive usually, but his rut is strong enough that you get to see more of the truly ghoulish side of him. He's very growly with strangers coming near you. You've never seen that toothy grin twist into a snarl before, but you see it now when you're out in public and some man presses too close to you for Swiss' liking.

You don't think you've ever heard such a noise from him, such a deep and guttural growl, but it... really does something for you. You hurry him home, both for the public's safety and because you need to ride him. He is overjoyed to fulfill your request.

Cumming inside of you is already his favorite thing in the world, if and when you allow him. He will literally beg for it now, his face flushed, sweaty hair clinging to his skin, his voice hoarse. Please let him breed you.

[zombiequeenblog]

The Promise

I wrote some dumb Papa Emeritus IV smut lol

There are no Ghovie spoilers here, I hope you enjoy it! Papa x Sister of Sin

Explicit ~ 5,500 words ~ ao3

Summary: Papa Copia catches you sneaking in way past curfew, and gives you a lecture. You respond cheekily.

It must be well past 2 am, maybe 3, I thought, as I tumbled guiltily back into my room. So late! A giggle, most likely fuelled by a gin and tonic or two I wasn’t used to, escaped me as I shed my coat and fled over to the comfort of my bed, feet aching. Sitting on the edge with a graceless bounce I didn’t intend, I flicked on the little lamp beside me and bent down to work my heels off, head still a bit dizzy. 

“Where have you been?” 

My body went stiff as soon as I heard his voice from over in the corner. My long and tangled hair, still smelling faintly of the perfume I had used to combat the mustiness of the local dive bar, had fallen down in my face, and I stayed hidden behind its safety as I made my reply as light and chipper as I could. “Oh Papa! Hmm, I… ahh, I didn’t see you there…” Obviously.

“Where have you been, Sorella?” I heard the slight tap of his shoe as the sole hit the floor, and a creaking noise like he was leaning forward in my austere little armchair. Sitting over there in the dark, like a cranky old cat. 

“I was just… out, Papa…” I had finally fumbled my heels off, and now I sat up to lean back on my hands, rolling my stiff neck back along my shoulders to shake my hair out. “I had a drink down at the bar, watched a band play. It was fun.”

“It’s past curfew.” He sounded displeased. Well, of course he would be! I knew the rules, but in this juniper-flavoured moment I didn’t much care. I had had fun, and I didn’t regret it. Still though…

“I’m sorry, Papa. I lost track of the time.” I let myself flop back on the bed, tired, and I thought I heard him rise up to his feet in the shadowed corner. 

“You cannot lose track of the time, eh, mia Sorella preziosa? This is dangerous. I cannot lose track of you.” He sounded very displeased, indeed. 

I just scoffed at him. Ever since I had come here, I would say we’d been flirting with one another, but isn’t that just what Papa did? What all the Papas do? Papa Copia was charming, intense, and sweet, and utterly devoted to enjoying the passions of the flesh, as the living embodiment of lust here on earth. He slept with many, and many more wanted to sleep with him. Hell, I wanted to sleep with him; we just hadn’t really come to find ourselves in that situation just yet. We hadn’t even kissed, and I resented him acting like he was some kind of handler of me. 

“I cannot allow you to behave in this way,” he continued with severity, coming closer, “running all around in that town, which you should know is crawling with Christians who don’t give one shit about you on account of that grucifix you have pinned there…” Papa gestured to the little symbol of our dark faith I had dutifully displayed on my shirt collar. “Without a single care for your safety, and sneaking back in here like some kind of little rat!”

I turned my head so I didn’t have to look at him, and I found that the long night of careless freedom had loosened my tongue, apparently terribly. “Well, hell… you’re not my dad!” I muttered up into the ceiling with a glib shrug of annoyance at his scolding. 

A shocked pause within the room, and then his sharp steps were coming right on over to me. “I. Am. Your. Papa,” his voice seethed down, “And I am responsible for you.”

I darted my eyes over to see his handsome face, still painted up, with his odd eyes blazing and his greying hair all mussed over his forehead in the most charming way. Had he really been sitting in here all night, waiting… worrying about me? As if to ruin it on purpose, he straightened up and ran his previously clenching hand back along his hair, smoothing everything down with a tense sigh. I thought he looked stunningly attractive, and it gave me a certain kind of little thrill to continue irritating him.

“What are you gonna do, spank me, Papa?” I threw out, carelessly turning over onto my front to let my body sink down further into the bed.

Another pause, and I felt the mattress shift when he sat down beside me. 

“Do you… Do you want me to spank you?” He sounded serious.

I felt myself blush immediately, grateful that he couldn’t see. “No!” I almost shouted, kicking my leg up a bit.

He didn’t say anything.

“Not… not right now, Papa…” Well, now I had gone and made everything awkward… Satan damn it! “Maybe later,” I added, muffled into the comforter. I wriggled my butt a little in a fiddling attempt to be coy, and I thought perhaps I heard him make the slightest sound of a chuckle. I couldn’t be sure. 

“Is there anything at all I may do for you, mia cara?” 

“You… you could help me out of these clothes, Papa,” I confessed to him, “Please.”

“With pleasure,” he said, his voice astoundingly kind now, and I felt the gentlest touch of his glove on the back of my thigh. He gave me a little squeeze there, and then his fingertips ran up to catch on the hem of my mini skirt. I felt him tug at it a little, and I mumbled something about the zipper. 

“Ahh yes, of course,” he said, and his fingers traveled up to the small of my back, finding the little clasp there to unhook it, and sliding the zipper down with care. I was not unaware of the way he was grazing the full curve of my ass as he did this, unnecessarily. He brought his gloves to either side of my waist and paused for a moment, his firm hands feeling warm on me through the leather, and then he started to roll my skirt down, encouraging me to lift my hips a bit, in a soft tone.

Halfway down my ass I remembered that I was wearing perhaps my skimpiest thong. The cool air of the room hit my skin and I heard Papa hum appreciatively, making me blush anew. As he slid my skirt off completely, all the way down my bare legs like he relished the task, he spoke low. 

“Were you meeting someone special down in town? Bringing some favoured errant soul into the fold?”

“No, Papa,” I answered honestly, “I just wanted to go out and relax in a crowd, you know? Look a bit pretty and get lost in some music…” I tried to turn over subtly but his hand was now firm on my lower back. “Avoiding panty lines, you know?” I explained further, with a soft laugh, turning my head only.

Papa laughed too. “I do not often have to contend with panty lines, my dear Sorella,” he replied, and I remembered his reported distaste for wearing knickers himself. I had been thinking often lately about what he had there in his pants, and I found myself rubbing my thighs together at the warmth forming now in my poor little empty cunt. As if to prove his point, he skimmed a gloved finger along the scant fabric of my thong to make me shiver.

“May I kiss you?” he suddenly said.

“Yes, Papa,” I chirped, but before I could turn around I registered him moving down and I felt his warm lips pressing a firm kiss against the cheek of my ass. 

“A kiss now, a spank later, eh?” he remarked, and I twisted my head to look back and see a black kiss mark left there on my exposed skin. He patted my butt affectionately, then stopped as if he’d forgotten. “Oh! My apologies, Sorella…”

I couldn’t help but grin at his silliness, and he finally let me roll over. 

“Papa…” I groaned, moving to sit up and unbutton my shirt. 

“No, no,” he insisted, taking my hands away, “Lay back, Sorella mia, and let Papa finish, si?”

“Si,” I agreed, laying back like a doll, and watching him get back to work through my torpid eyes. I saw him grin now, sweet and sly. 

My top was obviously next, and I marvelled at the way his gloves seemed to have no trouble with the tiny buttons, working nimbly from my waist right up to my cleavage. I wanted to feel that supple leather on more parts of me, and when he looked down into my face with intention, pausing before he opened up my shirt, I nodded up at him. 

“Sei squisito,” he breathed, slowly revealing more of me to his heavy gaze. 

“What are you saying?” I asked him softly. I had learned much Italian in my time here, but not enough. 

“I am telling you,” he said, looking up at my face now and brushing my hair back with the lightest touch of his glove, his fingertip running down to my chin to tilt me up to him slightly, “that you are exquisite, tesoro mio.” He tilted his own head as he looked down at me, his strange eyes darkening with devotion, and perhaps, also, with need. 

“May I have another kiss?” I asked him.

“On your ass?”

“No, Papa!” I could have hit him, he was so being so facetious. A complete ass, himself.

I endured the roguish twinkle in his eye for a moment, and then I pointed at my mouth. “Here.” I watched his hungry eyes hone in on my softly parted lips, and I knew he wanted me too. “I want you to kiss me here.”

Without another word he brought his mouth right down on mine. His lips, soft but insistent, giving me a taste of his papal paints when our kiss quickly deepened. So focused was I upon those lips, and his tongue, that I almost didn’t notice his gloves holding me up to him, tearing my opened shirt down along my shoulders. 

“More,” he muttered, breaking away only for a moment, “give me more… Sorella…”

Desperately, I shrugged off my top as he helped me, lurching forward to continue kissing him, tasting this irresistible man as if I were parched. Too soon he dragged his lips along my cheek, smearing himself all down my neck to come to my chest where he could use his tongue further, and his teeth, giving me little licks and nips along the top of my breasts as he let loose his hunger. 

By this time I was gripping the lapels of his suit jacket, and my fingers slid inside, trying to find a closer purchase along his shoulders, noticing his skin was dampening with sweat underneath the smooth fabric of his shirt. “Give me more,” I whined, and he obliged eagerly, shedding the shiny irksome thing and coming forward again to push me right down beneath him. His hand came up to knead my breast, pulling my bra down as he kissed my pouty lips again and again, his leathered thumb flicking and circling my nipple. When I couldn’t hold back my gasps of pleasure into his mouth, he abandoned mine, coming down again to taste my breasts each in turn, pulling my sensitive peaks in between his smudged lips, and swirling his wet tongue to drive me mad with desire.

Through my struggle not to lose my head, I had been fumbling about blindly with the buttons of his dress shirt, and I finally got it open enough to slide my hand down along his chest, to feel the glorious swirls of hair there. I ran my fingers along his beautifully greying head too. 

“Papa,” I begged, “I want to see you… please…”

“Can you be a good girl for me?” He was taking off my bra, rather easily.

“Yes.”

“Follow the rules?”

Rolling my eyes in frustration and pleasure both, I grabbed his cravat and pulled him back up to kiss me once more. With him distracted so with my lips, I thought I’d find out if he really was so easy to access inside his pants, and so I ran my hand down his solid body to find his distractingly large bulge straining within its confines. Papa groaned against my cheek as I let out a gasp of anticipation. I couldn’t wait to get his cock out. 

But first, just to tease him, I brought my hand back and around to cup his ass, squeeze him there and pull him against my thrilling cunt before I locked my legs up and around his waist. No panty lines, I thought to myself, and I grinned against his lips for a moment, feeling him rut against me down below.

He was growing impatient too. “I want you, tesoro,” Papa growled, gloved hands groping, fingers dragging down my body, my ass, to hook underneath the scant fabric keeping him from my pussy. His hot mouth came to my ear with a harsh whisper. “I want to fuck you.”

“No,” I said, and he let me go immediately, pushing himself up and off of me and looking straight down into my face, his eyes concerned. He went to speak, breathless and flushed underneath his smudged paint, but I was quicker. 

“Take your shirt off first,” I finished, and he looked so relieved and cross I thought he might bend me over his knee and spank me right there.

“You are a little brat, trottolina…” he threw out at me, sitting up and giving me one flash of the darkest look of desire I thought possible, before furiously undoing his cravat and bending his head to pay careful attention to the buttons of his tailored shirt, opening it up slowly. 

I hummed wickedly, and nodded, though he didn’t see, backing up to recline against the cushions and squeezing my knees together in my excitement. And yet I’m well rewarded, aren’t I? I thought to myself, bringing my fingertip up to rest flippantly between my teeth as I watched my Papa. 

Satan, he was so beautiful. Flustered hair he’d let get longer fell into his lined face, painted so sinister, yet with a learned tenderness about his darkened sockets and the curve of his mouth which he couldn’t quite hide. Every day I could see it; Copia was so full of adoration for his flock, a steady affection he kept quiet underneath a carnality of care. I couldn’t believe how privileged I was, both to be here and to be of any concern to such as him. I wanted him; I revelled in the thought of him wanting me. And I was grateful for our liberated faith, which laid out the way for this. 

His neck and shoulders, so kissable. His chest adorned in fine hair begging to be touched, the textured whisper of a few greys amongst them calling to me. His skin pale, scattered with faint freckles, his stomach soft and comforting and so utterly fallible it belied his exalted status. The trail of hair leading down underneath the waistband of his pants drove me absolutely raving inside with want, and so I asked him for more, bluntly. 

“Your pants too,” I said, finding that my mouth was suddenly dry. Was I nervous? It was just that he was so completely perfect, amplified by the way he lacked any true hubris, and I suddenly felt a little unworthy in my Papa’s presence. What could he possibly see in me, really?

“Of course, Sorella,” he replied measuredly, “Have patience, your Papa has waited for you long enough…” The shirt was quickly shed, and then he rested his gloves upon the fastening of his pants, looking over at me. “Come here and help me, si?”

I crawled to him, but when I got close enough I sat back on my heels to mirror his posture, and I let myself touch his forearms instead, lightly scraping my nails up to hold onto him by his warm shoulders. Copia just watched me, head tilted a bit with a puzzled smile. My fingertips slid over, grazing his clavicle to rest with shyness in the hollow of his throat. “I want you, Papa,” I told him, “I want to be here, with you, forever.”

Arms full of reassurance to match his desire came up and around me, and he held me so very close, his fingers nestling up the back of my head. “I’m not going anywhere, Sorella mia,” he murmured into my hair, “I feared perhaps you wanted to leave this place… leave me…”

I pulled back and silenced his nonsense with a kiss, which he held me in, and I let my hand wander blindly down his body, his soft stomach, following the treasure trail to something harder. I was trying to suavely slip my fingers into his pants, open them up to free his frustrated cock to my attentions.

This proved difficult, even when I brought my other hand down to assist.

“What is wrong with your pants, Papa?” I finally broke away to exclaim. I looked down to observe the securely knotted lacing. “They’re ridiculous!”

Copia laughed. “Well, I wouldn’t want an embarrassing mishap, on account of having nothing on underneath…” 

I laughed with him. “Take them off…” I finally whined.

Papa motioned for me to scooch back on the bed, and expertly began to undo his pants in front of me. The poor man must have felt a great relief at finally freeing his swollen cock, and he did groan a bit, in pleasure, as he took himself in hand for a few lazy strokes. He was big, and I felt insane looking at it. At all of him.

“Fuck me, Papa,” I breathed, laying back.

“No,” he said, and I sat back up in a little shock.

“First,” he said low with a grin, looking pointedly down between my legs, “Take those off. I want to taste you, dolcezza mia.” I wanted to kill him. Copia got up from the bed to peel off his pants completely, and I lay back again, sliding my thong down along my hips and my trembling legs to leave my pussy pleading, as I observed his perfect body and the way he carried himself. “You will not deny me this,” Papa said, coming back on the bed to crawl towards me. I fully agreed. 

But before I could let my knees drop open for him, Papa was doing it, his gloves gripping my thighs and yanking me down a little closer. I could feel his warm breath on my pussy, and I shut my eyes and waited for him to begin.

But nothing happened, and I looked back down at him after a moment. “What are you doing?”

“I’m just looking, dolcezza…” His face was full of a lustful suspense, gazing upon my cunt and practically licking his paint-smeared lips in anticipation, so close. “You are so beautiful, ragazza mia, do you even know that? I cannot believe I get to enjoy someone so perfect.”

I blushed, but I answered him honestly. “I was just thinking the same thing about you, Papa.”

“Well, let’s get started on enjoying each other then, si?”

“Si— oh, Papa!”

He was attacking me with his mouth, surging forward to lick up along my seam and to jut his chin forward, delving his tongue inside. It felt so nice, warm and forceful, and I would have been much too sensitive for it if I wasn’t so wound up already. My hips were bucking up, but he had slid his hands up underneath my ass and around to hold them, to hold me down for his carnal feast. 

Papa may have been enjoying me, but I could not believe how good his mouth felt on my cunt. A warm tingly pleasure was rising, stoked deep inside by his wet tongue exploring my most intimate areas, and when he started to circle and suck my clit in a kind of rhythm the jolts of delight this afforded me made me gasp out. 

“That’s so good! I…” Coherent thought escaped me. “Oh, Papa… fuck…”

Hums of pleasure rumbled into my pussy as Copia revelled in my wetness, the taste of me. After a bit of his perfect pleasuring, cruelly, he told me so. “Bellissima… Sorella,” he broke away to say, face darkened with lust, “Your pretty little pussy, so fucking sweet, Satanas…” He began to tease me with only the tip of his tongue now, as if he fretted about missing any drop of the sweetness he was coaxing out from my slit. Gradually he applied more blessed pleasure, his tongue igniting ecstasies I didn’t even know I had down there. 

His words were thrilling me, but I wanted him to keep going, don’t stop, please don’t stop, keep going Papa that feels so good so good so fucking good I’m so close I’m… My fingertips reaching down to brush against his gorgeous locks, I almost pulled him closer in my desperation, but Copia grinned up at me quickly and went right back to it, seeming pleased at the way he was keeping me tottering there just beyond all sense. He licked and lathed his tongue against me with a lazy indulgence, holding me at a simmering torture until he went back to my clit at just the right pace, as if he had been taking his time, enjoying what he did to me, and learning what I needed best to be thrown right over the edge. 

When I finally felt that racing thrill begin inside, my thighs tightened against his ears, and I almost kicked out, my heels coming to rest upon his bare back as I twitched and convulsed up against his face. My nails were digging into the skin just underneath his gloves, my hands holding on to his wrists for dear life as I bucked up and moaned aloud, and he didn’t stop, continuing to eat me out ravenously as if he could taste my orgasm, and couldn’t get enough. I felt like I could hardly breathe.

“Fuck, Papa,” I cried when I was able, my eyes on the edge of tearing up. 

“Mmmm…” Copia licked up my twitching cunt and gazed down upon me with pride, his paint ruined. “Oh yes, my sweet Sorella, we’ll do that next…”

“Fuck,” was all I could barely repeat, like an idiot, out of breath and wanting him more than ever. I reached down for him. 

Copia’s body surged up and over me, on all fours, but instead of giving me his cock he gave me his fingers, two I was pretty sure. Gloved fingers, smooth and warm, sliding slow and exploratory into my dripping wet cunt. If I had been moaning before, now I made sounds much more urgent, the feeling all alight around my pussy walls still tingling, incredible. 

“Papa!” I cried out, writhing beneath him.

“Papa needs to make sure you’re nice and ready…” Copia huffed out, circling gently, and stroking deep in my pussy, curling his smooth leathered digits up, “Nice and ready for me, eh?”

“Fuck I am ready,” I pleaded with him, “Please please fuck me, Papa… Please I need it…”

He needed it too; I could see his cock hanging flushed and heavy, precum almost dripping from the darkened tip. I was clenching around his fingers, and he groaned. I could make him feel so good, I knew it, he just had to make me take his cock; I wanted him so badly I could scream.

Only when he judged me sufficiently wound up did he position me the way he wanted, supine underneath him with my knees apart, and he brought the head of his cock to my weeping cunt, sliding up and down my seam slowly just to tease. Copia really was a devil; he had a dark mischief inside him he loved to let out to play sometimes. I could see why his lovers went so crazy over him. 

But Papa’s most veritable calling was to love tenderly. “Come here,” he said, softly, reaching up to stroke the sweaty strands of hair out of my face, and keeping his hand there, cradling me nice and firm. His thumb wandered over to my lips and I could smell the leather; I moved and bit the tip a little, heavy-lidded, stifling the gasps I knew were coming as I could feel him begin to finally push inside me below. 

My eyes widened; I was glad he’d taken the time to warm me up because Lucifer in hell, he was large and oh so hard… I felt like I could barely take it.

“Are you okay?” Copia asked me, his brow sweating off the paint he had remaining. I think he was only halfway inside, and my leg twitched against his waist as he pushed in a little deeper, unable to help himself. 

“Yes, Papa!” I told him in a hushed whisper, the stretch of him divine, “Oh, yes… don’t stop… fuck…”

“La mia dolce, cara, Sorella…” he was murmuring, sliding inside my tightness, his face a lined and messy vision of pure delight. I felt that wonderfully conflicting feeling of need and completeness deep inside, and I saw him look down to watch my pussy take all of him in as I hitched my hips up feebly to meet him.

There was nothing in the world quite like this, to have him inside me. “Do you… Do you like my pussy, Papa?” I managed to gasp out.

“Fuck, yes… dolcezza…” Copia choked out, already starting to pull back, “You’re so tight, am I hurting you? Satanas…” He hissed out his pleasure and I saw his eyes roll back a little before he focused down on my face, his odd eyes searching mine in some concern.

Reaching up to smooth his eye paint into the darling crow’s feet he had there, I met his gaze and marvelled. “No, it feels so good, I… I want you to fuck me, don’t stop, Papa… please…”

Papa didn’t stop, sliding his cock back inside me, aided so by my wetness and making me moan out loud at the incredible pressure. I watched him bite his own lip to stifle himself, paying close attention to my body as he held me, stroke by stroke, like I was the most precious thing. When he saw me press my head back on the mattress, becoming delirious with pleasure, he smiled, becoming more relaxed himself, and gave me a thrust to make me grip onto him harder. 

“Yes Papa! That’s so fucking good…”

Copia hooked his hand underneath my knee and opened my thigh up further, thrusting a little deeper into my pussy, and he settled more atop me, kissing and licking all over my décolletage, before bringing his head up to murmur low and sweet into my ear. 

“I like it when you call me that, fuck! Eh, ahh… Papa,” he told me, “I like it when you call me Papa…”

“You are Papa,” I said, and he snorted into my neck mid-thrust.

“You are delightful, Sorella,” he said, “Bellissima… ugh, fuck… I think I am going to be fucking you a lot, eh?” Copia was pumping his cock into me in the best way, warm and hard and steady. “If you’ll have me?” he continued, leaning down to pant against my cheek as he thrust.

“Yes, Papa, please!” Every drive of his cock hit those parts inside me to make me shiver, and the brief absence of him with each pass made me yearn for it again and again and again. “Ugh, I need you, you fuck me so good!”

He really was. Copia knew what he was doing, and he fucked me ecstatically now in a perfect rhythm of lust, his hips snapping against the backs of my thighs to make the bed shake. I took his cock again and again, scratching my nails along his shoulders and letting his tongue into my mouth when he sought my lips to kiss me sloppily. Our bodies were beginning to work up a sweat, joined so carnally in our mutual pleasure, and I couldn’t get enough of him.

“You can fuck me whenever you want,” I purred up to him wickedly, “you’re Papa here… I’m here for your pleasure…”

Copia groaned, approaching the throes of that exact pleasure, but he slowed down, seemingly trying to focus again. “That’s true, isn’t it, Sorella?” I saw his lip curl into a mischievous grin. “What is it that all Papas may say, ah?”

“What?” I whisper-gasped, my eyes shut tight, overwhelmed by his cock, the feel of his gloves on me.

“I, ahh… ahh… I brought you into this institution, yes?” Copia gave me one jolting thrust to make me squeak underneath him and then he was fucking me, so fucking good, but his thrusts were becoming more erratic as he seemed to try and focus on his thoughts for a moment, “and I can take you out, so…” Another sweet thrust… He was speaking to me in a mock tone of gruff authority, and I lost it at his silliness even as I felt our mutual pleasure rising.

I laughed out loud, trapped so underneath him, and he joined me in sweet laughter himself, continuing to fuck me as he hung his head down into my shoulder with a grunt. 

“Shut up, Papa,” I giggled through a moan, “Oh, just shut up… and fuck me…” I ran my fingers up through his hair, getting it more and more disheveled with the sweat beginning to run off the back of his neck, between his shoulder blades, down his spine. He smelled so fucking good on top of me, the weight of him addicting, and I never wanted this to end. “I’ll never come home late again, I promise… If you just keep fucking me…”

But I could sense my poor sweet Papa approaching his end, and I wanted him to feel so fucking good, let everything go and achieve the sweetest release possible. 

“Fuck me, Papa, really fuck me… fill me up…”

Copia held me close, thrusting faster and harder for a minute as he groaned into my flushed skin, and then he reared back, his dark gaze piercing into me with pure desire as he began to fuck me hard, holding me down so I couldn’t writhe away from his thrusts, my body jostling, the heat of his body and his lust palpable in the scant air between us.

I opened my legs further for him, taking his cock to the point of pain so he could get his fill of me. “Good girl,” he huffed under his breath, and I could almost come again just from that.

He’d never looked better than this, I thought in awe, chasing his own pleasure and using my poor pussy to do so. Copia drove his cock into my cunt like he just couldn’t help himself near the end, and then he finally came, choking out a shout before he collapsed on top of me, muttering what I guessed was filthy Italian into my hair.  I could feel his thick cock throbbing deep inside as he ground his hips into me, pulsing out his spend to fill me completely up, and I clenched my thighs and my pussy around him in delight, holding him tightly as he trembled in my arms.

I felt him come down from his high, breathing heavy. “Satanas, Sorella… that was…”

“Good?” I giggled.

“So fucking good, you’re going to kill your poor old Papa…”

I only hummed wickedly, but soon I was making louder noises. Copia had pushed himself up, still deep within my cunt, and he was dragging his gloved hand down my body, getting a few gropes in before settling his fingers on my clit. His cum was already leaking out of me, the slickness only aiding in that ecstatic circling sensation to drive me wild.

“That’s it, my good girl,” I heard him purr, “Come for Papa… si…”

I was so close already from our fucking that it didn’t take long; I came hard again with cries of pleasure as he hissed in triumph, sliding his spent cock out of me in satisfaction.

“I mean it, Papa,” I managed to say after, “I am never coming home late again.”

Copia flopped down beside me and gathered me to him, sighing out in his exhaustion. “My dear Sorella…”

My mussed up head on his shoulder, I nestled in close, breathing in his scent and wrapping my free arm around him. He felt so warm, his heartbeat only beginning to slow, and I watched his gorgeous face rest, his smudged eyes closing in bliss. My body was covered in smears of his paint, especially my lower half, mixing now with cooling sweat and the sticky remnants of him still seeping out. 

After a moment, Copia sought my hand upon him with his gloved one, and brought it up to his lips. “You know, amore,” he murmured between soft kisses to my knuckles, “I cannot stop you from doing as you please… but maybe…” Copia turned over on his side to look down into my face, earnestly, still playing with my hand. “Maybe you’ll allow me to accompany you next time? When you stay out much too late?”

“I’d like that, Papa.” Disentangling from his fingers, I reached up to guide his chin down so he could kiss me on my lips again, and he lingered there for a sweet while, only breaking away to say one thing more.

“And then, I promise, dolcezza… I will spank you.”

[evanpeterspeter]

Kinktober day 1

Pre death Kyle Spencer - First time - Lingerie

Cw: smut obviously, p in v, v!grin and so on

An: Day one in kinktober, hope you guys enjoy:3

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You and Kyle lived on campus, there were dorms and it was separated by gender. You wished you were the popular cheerleader who had all the boys drooling over them. Even though you were a “nobody” who just worked on art and sculpting, you were just as boy-crazy as the rest of them. You had the biggest crush on Kyle. He was the nicest out of the bunch of frats, the most charming, handsome, and just heart-flutteringly gentle. You hate to admit it but you’ve touched yourself to the thought of him. The way he flashes his charming smile makes your heart melt. “Y/n!” Your friend called. “You’re going to the party yeah?!” She jumped up and down flapping her hands mindlessly. you shrugged and looked over at the boys in the hall flirting and passing invitations. “Kyle is gonna be thereeee.” She teased nudging your shoulder. You instantly became flustered and turned a slight hue of red. “I-I don’t know yet..” You said hugging your elbows. “Oh come on, Y/n! It’s gonna be so much fun! We can totally dress up too!” You shrug in defeat. “Okay okay fine, I’ll go.” She squealed and ran out of the room in excitement.

You and your friend decided to go as a witch and a cat, which of course she took the role of the witch, so now you were stuck as the black cat. It wasn’t a bad thing it’s that you felt so.. Naked. You couldn’t help but get excited but crazy fucking nervous about seeing Kyle and what he might think of your “costume”. Your top sort of resembled the head of a cat and had white sheer sleeves and ruffles under the black material that held your perky breasts. A slight frill of the sheer fabric as a “skirt” and some thin stockings, that you wore pumped Mary Janes with. Your friend walked in and gasped. “Holy fuck, Y/n.. If I was Kyle, I’d fuck you right here and now.” You blushed and shook your head. “Okay, come on. I want to get this over with.” You said grabbing your small coffin-shaped purse.

Once you arrived at the party, all eyes were on you. You knew the outfit was very revealing, but you weren’t prepared for the beady, nasty eyes from the wrong crowd, Especially since you only thought about Kyle. You walked into the kitchen, pouring yourself some alcohol-spiked punch as you watched your friend dancing with the other frats and grinding up against them. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes and let out a small huff of laughter. “Hey!” You turned your head to the voice. It was Kyle. You froze and shed an awkward smile. You saw his beautiful dark eyes roam over your beautiful body. He looked back up at your eyes and noticed you were flustered. “Y/n, how are you enjoying the party?” Your uncomfortable smile became a genuine smile. “You remember my name?” He let out a playful scoff of misbelief. “Uhm..Yeah? I always notice you watching me.” He flashed a smirk. Your heart sped and you covered your flustered face with your hands. “Hey, hey I’m just teasing ya.” Kyle said with a gentle chuckle, softly prying your hands away from your face. He looked at your eyes then your lips, looking back up and placing a small bunch of your soft hair behind your ear. “O. M. G. Kyle!” Some blonde bimbo ran up to him, grabbing his arm and pulling him away. “My favorite song is on!” She grabbed him, pulling him out of the kitchen to the main room. You let out a sigh.

“Hey, sweet mama.” One of the frat boys came to the kitchen and stood in front of you. He grabbed your bare waist and pressed his body against his. You let out a yelp and were trying to squirm away from his strong grasp. “Whoah there. Where are you going?” His breath reeked of alcohol and skunk weed. “Let me go!” You screamed as you tried pushing him away. In a flash, you saw a beer bottle smashed against that boy’s head. You flinched and yelped, covering your head in fear you were next. “Y/n!” There stood Kyle, he grabbed you, taking his letterman jacket off and placing it over your shoulders. “K-kyle.. I’m sorry.” You said on the brink of tears. “For what? Basically being sexually assaulted?! Absolutely not.” He grabbed his keys and looked at you. “You want me to take you home? You looked uncomfortable this whole time.” He spoke gently. “N-no it’s fine.” You said hugging your elbows and holding onto his jacket tightly. Kyle crouched down to your height and held onto your hips. “How about we head back to mine and we can watch some sort of Halloween movie and pig out on some cheap candy.” You felt butterflies when he placed his hands on your hips and your core tingle. You grew a wide smile and nodded. “If that’s okay with you.” You spoke softly.

You went back to Kyle’s dorm and put your purse by the door. “Make yourself comfortable,” Kyle said while grabbing some grey sweats and a loose-fitting shirt. You nodded as you sat on his bed, waiting as he changed. He stepped out of the bathroom in sweats and no shirt. You could see his soft-toned abs and his prominent V-line. You unintentionally bit your lip as he walked your way. He stood in front of you with his lower waist at your eye level. He pulled your bottom lip apart from your teeth and lifted your chin to look you in the eyes. “Eyes up here, Beauty.” Your breath hitched as you swallowed the lump in your throat. He let out a cute chuckle and plopped on the bed, opening his arms for you to crawl into. “Come,” Kyle said giving grabby hands. You giggled and crawled to him, being unintentionally seductive. You laid on top of his warm body, your barely clothed cunt against his thigh and your head on his chest. He grabbed you and as you guys watched Hocus Pocus, his hands roamed up and down from your upper back to your lower back rubbing near your ass. “Y/n, are you comfortable?” He spoke lowly. You nodded, clinging to his chest.

You could feel his member harden against your hip. You couldn’t handle the tension any longer, you grabbed the nape of his neck, pulling yourself up further, and placed soft kisses on his neck. He let out a soft gasp and clung onto your ass and waist as you left little nips and bites on his neck. You felt him roll his hips up against your thigh. “Y/n. Are you okay with this?” He said slightly out of breath. You lifted your head, pressing your weight on the palms of your hands that laid upon his heavy chest. “Y-yeah.. Are you okay with it? I-I don’t want to get ahead of myself, especially if you aren’t inter-“ Kyle interrupted you with his lips against yours. He sat up, cradling your body to his, as you sat straddled on his thigh. The kiss was messy but yet, so sensual. Almost like he hasn’t had much experience. You pulled away for a moment to catch the breath he stole from you. You watched as he searched your flustered face, with a faint smile upon his pink, dimpled cheeks. “Your lips are sweet like candy.” He smiled looking at your lips. You let out a playful whine and looked away. “Kyleeee, shush!” He promptly flipped you over, hovering over your fragile, yet beautiful curved body. You let out a small whine, naturally resorting to hugging your elbows. Kyle’s expression slightly sunk. “Hey, Y/n. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” He sat up on his knees, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. You gently pouted and shook your head. “Kyle.. I’ve uhm.. I’ve never had sex before.” You said feeling ashamed. Kyle tilted his head and smiled. “That’s okay, Pumpkin.” He pinched your cheek gently. “If you’d like, we can postpone thi-..”

You interrupted his proposal by wrapping your legs around his waist, grabbing the back of his neck, pulling him towards you, and slamming each other’s lips together. You felt his hard-on press against your soaked core. He grabbed the bottom of your two-piece and lifted his head to meet your eyes. “May I?” You nodded frantically as he basically tore your flimsy bottom piece off your body. Kyle crouched on the floor beside the foot side of the bed. He gently spread open your thighs, looking for your approval, you nodded and shyly spread your silky thighs apart. Kyle’s eyes widened and bit his lower lip in hunger. You felt your face heat up like a million suns. “Does it look okay?” You said biting the inside of your cheek. “Okay? Baby, it’s drop-dead gorgeous. Just like you.” He pressed his tongue flat upon your sopping cunt, licking a strip up to your sweet bundle of nerves. You let out a loud gasp and grabbed the back of his head, grasping a fist full of his soft dirty blond locks. He flicked his tongue against your tender clit and suckled on it gently. You naturally felt your hips grind against his soft mouth, eager for more.

He pulled away from your aching cunt. “Let me warm you up, yeah?” You bit your lip and nodded. He collected your slick and slid one finger in, curling it up. After a few pumps of his finger, he slid in another, stretching you out comfortably before he helps himself to you. You clawed the sheets and let out small moans. “Mmmh, Kyle.” You said, enjoying his thick fingers sliding in and out of your tight cunt. “Yeah Love?” You felt your heart melt with all of the pet names he’s given you. “I-I need you so bad, Kyle.” Saying that made Kyle’s cock twitch in neediness. “Are you sure you’re ready?” Kyle stood up and gently pulled you to the edge of the bed. “Please. Fuck me, Kyle.” You whined. He did not hesitate and pulled his sweatpants off, Kicking them in whatever direction. He leaned over to grab a condom and wrapped himself up. As he began to roll the rubber onto his shaft, he placed his thumb on your clit and started rubbing it in a circular motion.

He leaned forward and lined himself up against your entrance. “Are you positive you’re comfortable enough for this?” He had his hands placed against your knees. “Yes, Kyle. I’ve waited so long for this, especially with you,” He smiled and looked red in the face. “Would it be weird if I said the same?” You shook your head no but right before you could respond, you felt his tip press into your entrance. You let out a whimper in slight discomfort but the burning stretch felt so good. Kyle placed his hands on the sides of your body, still pushing himself into you. As soon as he bottomed out he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “Doing ok, Pumpkin?” You nodded as you held onto his neck. “Kinda burns. But it feels so good.” He chuckled lowly and started slowly thrusting in and out of you. You let out some unintentional, nasty pornographic moans. “Fuck, Kyle.. God you’re so thick.” Your soft praises made him drive for more, beginning to slam into your tight pussy. “Fuck, You’re so fucking tight. Mmmhh.” He exclaimed while pounding into your cunt. You had your head tossed back, tears sliding down the sides of your eyes, and your mouth agape. He lowered his hand, rubbing your clit in a swift circular motion. “K-kyle.. Fuck.. I’m going to finish.” You panted in between moans. “Do it for me, Beautiful.” You felt your lower belly turn that huge knot into a gushing river. You clawed his neck and shoulder blades like an actual cat. I guess you really stayed in character. The pulsing tight walls of your cunt made Kyle succumb to his orgasm, shooting his thick loads into the condom. His thrusts became sloppy and unorganized, as he eventually pulled out.

You were splayed out, almost angelic on his bed. Your arms were tossed above your head, boobs almost hanging out your top, and how your gentle curves lay.

“Fuck.. You’re so beautiful.” Kyle said with a big geeky smile. As he cleaned himself up he grabbed a new pair of sweats and his slightly used hoodie that was neatly folded. “How are you feeling?” He sat beside you, placing his hand over your damp forehead. You let out a small giggle. “I feel amazing.. Thank you, Ky.” Kyle flashed a smile and kissed your forehead. “I have some spare clothes, so you won’t have to sleep in a two-piece rag you call a costume.” He said teasingly. You gasped and smacked his arm. “Oh shut it, Fuck boy.”

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Taglist: @evansonlylove @xrag-dollx @warrenlipkaswife @jazz-berry @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re @fear-is-truth

[shazzbaa]

IDK MAN IM A SUCKER FOR SPLIT IMAGES....

anyway so for Light Fingers we needed to either appease a giant snake who lives in the dream realm's sky (long story), or ally with the cats to overcome said snake amalgam. Peter and Sam chose differently here, meaning Peter was granted the honour of being legally a cat, and Samuel got to, uH.... sHED HIS SKIN AS PENITENCE?????

(Peter is @little-red-notebook's guy, Sam is mine!)

bonus drawing/thoughts under the cut:

HE HAD TO USE A KNIFE AND TOOK SEVERAL WOUNDS, WHICH TRADITIONALLY IS NOT HOW SHEDDING WORKS, but by some snakey machinations there was new skin underneath, with the slightest sheen..........

supposedly it's so subtle that nobody would notice it, so obviously that means I immediately have to add faintly visible scales to every drawing I make of Samuel forever. I like to imagine it doesn't really show in the general gloom of the neath, but under more direct light or in the Parabolan sun, Sam's allegiances are a little more obvious....

The timing on this choice was fun, because just a few days before, Peter had shared with Samuel that he and his ACTUAL boyfriend had become engaged, they were just keeping it a secret so as not to make Peter's real fiancé a target for Poor Edward. So, while Sam did not know exactly what he was getting into when he chose to apologise to the giant sky snake, he still knows the reputation of the fingerkings, he knows bargains with them are risky, and he knows Poor Edward just announced his own skin-shedding bargain and following in his footsteps seems tremendously unwise........ but he was very much operating on the idea that PETER had a future that he needed to be okay for, so Sam needed to be the one to take the choices that would likely have Consequences.

[gortash-did-nothing-wrong]

Feral 3

Minors Do Not Interact!!!

Warnings: pregnancy, violence, murder (but it's the Baron so yay), mentions of the Baron being a pedo, mentions of Feyd being a victim of the Barons.

Feyd had a new issue with Friz. Ever since he had begun helping Y/N with the little beast, holding him securely while Y/N clipped his nails, frimmed the fur around his paws and butt, and held him in the bath water while Y/N scrubbed the filth and loose hair off of him, the shedding had become so much less of an issue. Feyd had even found a setting on the shower head that Friz actually enjoyed against his throat. With a lot of patience, an absurd amount of chicken liver treats, and many close calls by cat claws, Friz was… somewhat tamed. The cat didn't like getting his nails trimmed, of course, but Feyd and Friz has come to an understanding. Feyd trimmed exactly one of his claws every day, and Friz got a freshly fried chicken liver with catnip sprinkles for his troubles.

Y/N had been shocked at the improvement in her pet. "I thought he was too old to be tamed properly." She admitted.

"How old is he, exactly?" Feyd asked.

"About sixteen." She said. "I got him when he was a feral kitten, I was about five. He was passed being bottle fed, so he didn't bond with me right away. It took weeks of work for him to even eat in front of me."

Feyd hummed to himself, wondering why anyone would even put that amount of time into a cat.

"Oh, by the way, I saw the doctor today." Y/N said casually. "He ran some tests, and it turns out I'm pregnant."

Feyd felt his face go blank. "What?"

--------

Y/N's pregnancy was… rough. Her cravings were for fresh fruit and cheese, things they didn't get often on Giedi Prime. Meat made her nauseous, something his uncle made constant jokes about. The bastard even hinted that Feyd's child might come out anemic and weak.

Ah, right, speaking of his uncle. Obviously the second Feyd realized his wife was pregnant, Vladimir couldn't go on living. Other than the fact Feyd hated the man, his baby might be a boy. And the idea of the Baron being on the same planet as a son of Feyd's, with his disgusting appetite for young boys was unacceptable. The Baron had a rather unfortunate accident. His normal nightly routine of smoking spice and soaking in his tub took a rather unfortunate turn. He indulged a tad bit too much, got a bit too dizzy, and drowned in his tub. The old man's body was so large it took a half dozen slaves to pull him out of the tub, even after it was drained.

Feyd inherited the throne, and life went on. Y/N looked practically ethereal with a baby bump and a crown on her head as she sat on her throne beside Feyd. The crown was only for the initial ceremony of course, neither of them could be bothered with dressing in ceremonial clothing every day.

Especially Y/N. Her pregnancy seemed to get rougher by the day. Morning sickness from the earlier months turned into near constant aches and pains in her back and legs. Feyd wasn't sure how women without servants survived their pregnancies. Who helped them tie their shoes? Their husbands? They must. Y/N's feet swelled so much, most days she didn't even bother with shoes. He came back to their newly renovated quarters (because even if Feyd wanted the bigger set of rooms his uncle had left behind after his death, he certainly didn't want any of the man's stench hanging around. Feyd had the place gutted and new floors and walls installed. Y/N had picked out the paint, of course.) to find her sitting on the couch with her feet propped up on an ottoman. Feyd tried to comfort her as best he could, but other than having the servants draw her a bath or bring in a foot tub for her feet to soak, there wasn't much to be done.

Thankfully she just seemed to want him to be close to her. And by the stars did he want to be right next to her all the time. His hand seemed to be permanently fixed to her belly, and he'd grin excitedly anytime he felt a kick from his son. Yes, his son. The doctor had confirmed it, and Feyd was both delighted and devastated. He had secretly hoped for a girl out of some misguided belief that it would be easier. Some vague idea that if his child was a girl then he wouldn't see himself reflected in her as much. So he wouldn't have some happier version of himself taunting him about what his childhood could have been.

But when he truly sat down to think about raising his son, Feyd found the idea soothing. No one would rip his son from Y/N's arms and take them away to a house of horrors. No one would mistreat him the way Feyd had been mistreated. His son would never doubt he was loved and cared for.

Y/N had commented on it over snacks one night. Nightly snacks might be his favorite part of pregnancy if he was being honest. Y/N always seemed to have a plate of something nearby and he was always offered some.

"I think it will be healing for you." She said, munching on a few strawberries. "Raising a little mini you, with all your mannerisms. And those beautiful eyes of yours."

Feyd chuckled, his face pressed against her belly as he felt his son kicking at his face. "He has strength, that's for sure. His kicks are getting stronger every day."

"Painful, too." Y/N said, wincing after a particularly strong kick from her baby.

Feyd turned back to her belly, patting it gently. "Easy now, my boy. Don't bother your mother so. She deserves rest after a long day of making you."

A little paw swatted at his nose. Ah. Right. His new problem. Friz stared at Feyd until Feyd sat up, removing himself from Y/Ns belly. The cat immediately started his nightly routine of massaging Y/Ns belly with his little paws, kneading at the baby bump for a few minutes before curling up and purring on it.

Y/N smiled, "It's like he's trying to keep them warm."

"We have blankets." Feyd said dryly, unhappy to have been chased from his wife's belly by a cat.

"It's instinct to him." His wife said, trying to soothe him by taking his face in her hands and peppering little kisses all over his cheeks. "Now, have a snack and tell me about your day."

Feyd took the bowl of strawberries from her, laying back against the headboard and sighing. "I've had such a day."

[downbaddetective]

I'm finally coming back to one of my previous posts. (Thank you to @m-eowdy for the reminder to finish the thought. I'm sorry if it's a little disappointing after the wait.)

Specifically these two shots of Edwin being completely covered in our two most important colors, because the symbolism here is significant to me.

I lost the original thoughts that I had (unfortunately migraines make me forget things) and by the time I was feeling kind of okay I knew that there were things I wanted to say but couldn't remember how. So, instead, I sat and rewatched the show, taking notes so that I could make sure that I wasn't making anything up.

So, color symbolism in this show is so stupidly important, and it's called out by characters in universe (thank you, Niko). We obviously see our characters in their colors, Edwin in blue, Charles in red, Crystal in purple, and Niko in pink. But it's also not that cut and dry. Edwin, in all reality, is very grey, Crystal wears a lot of different colors, and so does Niko. Obviously, part of that is because the girls aren't dead and have to change their clothes, but the colors that are worn are still significant to their state of mind and the events happening around them. With Edwin and Charles, it's very similar, though a little different. Charles' red gets darker as he is more and more affected by what happens at the Devlin house. Edwin, though, barely shows his blues most of the time, but when he becomes vulnerable, he sheds his grey layers, and we see it a lot more.

Now, I think that it's worth mentioning that Edwin and Charles swap their afterlife colors, so when they look at each other, they see their afterlife. The red and blue also give us clues as to things that they're hiding. Red being often associated with anger and blue with sadness. That being said, I'm now getting to the symbolism in the fact that Edwin is one of two* characters to be washed in both hell's red and death's (heaven's?) blue like this.

Edwin's entire journey is kind of impeded by the fear of getting caught by the afterlife and being sent back to hell. Red is his constant source of fear, hell being the biggest example, but Charles in his red is also the cause of Edwin's issues. Charles is the reason why both the Cat King and Monty have some type of red associated with them during interactions with Edwin. These colors are omens for Edwin. Charles essentially shared his blue afterlife light with him. They were meant to be detectives together, and that's where it all starts, right there in that attic. The red, on the other hand, is indicative of the bullshitery that is incoming, including the worst-case scenario, aka BEING DRAGGED BACK TO HELL. RIGHT THERE. IN THE APARTMENT THAT THEY GO LOOK AT RIGHT AFTER THIS. (Even though it is definitely at least partially his own darn fault.) The fact that we see these two scenes out of order also indicates that by the end of it all Edwin has overcome the previously stated bullshitery. We see Edwin interact with these two colors as a collective much more in the show, and it's seems it's because this was Edwin's time to learn and grow, and I suspect that if we get a season two at some point, we will see that flip so that Charles can have his turn.

All in all, I am absolutely in love with the colors in this show and I will probably have more to say later but I wanted to finish at least this part of the color analysis so that I could have a resolution to the previous post. I don't think I was able to recover all of my original thoughts about the significance of these two, but I think I got a pretty good chunk of it. I do want to say that I've seen the other color analyses floating around. I will be taking a look at some point, but before doing my own, I will be avoiding them for now because I want to write about my own perception rather than accidentally just stealing other peoples work.

(* Ngl, a little worried about Jenny if we ever see a season two)

[mimble-sparklepudding]

Some Miqo'te questions for... reasons...

Is miqo'te head hair and ear fur the same thing? Or are they completely different textures/types of hair?

How much control do miqo'te have over their tails? Obviously cats don't have prehensile tails like monkeys, so presumably they can't pick things up or manipulate things with their tails in that way, but can they wrap them around things or swish them at will?

Do they molt? Or does the hair on their ears and tail fall out in the same way as human hair? Is there any seasonal impact on their level of shedding?

How sensitive are their tails? Presumably they can feel them being stroked, but are they quite robust? I daresay pulling on them would not be good (as well as being very rude), but I imagine baby miqo'te probably pull on and even inquisitively chew on each others tails in play?

Is miqo'te hearing better or worse than human (Hyur) hearing? I suspect it's probably better than Roegadyn or Au Ra hearing, but worse than Elezen or Lalafells, but that's purely a guess.

Share with me your lore knowledge and your headcanons and ideas that have literally just randomly occurred to you.

[traumatizedartist]

On the topic of khans "kill all humans kick", what if he did?

Well, not all humans obviously, but what if he lead some sort of, drone revolution? Think about it

In his concept art he has a scar on his eye, where could he have gotten that from? Humans possibly

Another thing

What if he did this when he was Uzis age, or even younger?

What if, in drone news, it said, "Khan Doorman, youngest drone to attack humans yet"

What if he did this because the humans killed someone(s) he cared about? Like say, a close friend, or his parents

Maybe having UNN's back when humans were still living on Copper9 wasnt allowed without specific human permission?

What if his parents got killed by their owners and that's what made him snap

What if he was a symbol

A war vet with such a large amount of trauma that he can't risk getting truly close with someone(esp after nori)without thinking they're gonna die. That he can't truly be happy without hurting someone else

Jeez, no wonder he's such a wet cat, he just wants to live, he clearly knows what war is like and the results of it.

Head cannons for this

My homie was 15 when he snapped

He went cooh cooh(I watched arcane and am now adding some of jinxs characteristics into this au of Khan cuz why not?)

Made weapons, started wearing/sewing his own clothes

Lead other drones to battle and shed blood himself

Made his own cover name, with a disguise and everything

Changed his hair style

Clothes that pop! Stripped leggings with Jean shorts and knee high converse with a belt filled with mini weapons ect

He liked killing, liked shedding blood, and it took years to shove down the urges to kill.

He hates it. So so much. It's like an addiction

He doesn't want to tell Uzi but she'll find out eventually

Feel free to add more(PLEASE I AM BEGGING YOU GIVE ME YOUR OPINION ON THIS AND MAYBE SOME MORE HEAD CANNONS THAT YOU'D WANT TO ADD I NEED IT PLEASE)

Dont mind my rambling please I'm crazy(gets shot)