#swim through the ice

[heir-to-the-seas]

Can speak again thanks to some teas, but has a quiet ,raspy voice right now, he says to himself:

🐚🌊 "Hmm...maybe going back to atlatica permanently would be bad. Erica would be sad. So would Neige....and the others...but also..I would be sad staying here. Why do I want to stay around humans if they will keep breaking my heart like this. Erica's the exception. She never would do such a thing to me. But others? I dunno. Probably even Neige is scared of me now because my overblot happened. ..right? I'm not sure what I should do.."

OPEN RP BTW anyone can join in somehow in ic posts lol unless I say otherwise

[rise-my-angel]

I am here for your takes on Dani. I'm glad I'm not the only one who thought her x Jon smelled of hot garbage. Like at best she was meh, and then when the two of them met I was just like "oh no....you're an entitled bitch". And now that its been years since I last consumed GoT, my thoughts have fermented into "oh no, she really is a conqueror" "oh no, everyone loves her because 'pretty badass lady'" "oh no i'm the fandom minority again". Anyway, where was I. She and Jon had no chemistry. The end.

The *only* way putting them in a romance even makes sense in concept is when you realize Benioff and Weiss gave Jon the Young Griff arc. It's why they gave him a Targ name, beacuse if they call him "aegon" then they can fufill that part of the books without ever having to establish Young Griff as his own character. He is the supposed son of Rhaegar Targaryean and Elia Martell, he goes to Westeros with intentions of using his better claim to take the throne and intends initially on marrying Dany, and it's theorized heavily that Dany will see his claim as a threat and the Burning of Kings Landing will come down to Aegon against Dany.

Jon Snow has nothing to do with that. He is a moral opposite to Dany as a charecter, and we've seen him time and time again be at strong odds against people with her morals. But by giving him the Young Griff arc, it means putting him into the romance spot when it makes no sense for him.

Hey I put a read more beacuse I cannot shut the fuck up about how this relationship is just rape and abuse but beacuse Jon's a man we think he wants it.

All of season 7 Jon is so out of place because he doesn't belong anywhere near Dany's Iron Throne plot, and he's being forced to interact romantically with a charecter that clearly he does not like as a person and is uncomfortable with.

But, Dany is the sacred cow of the GoT/asoiaf fandom. You love her and if you critizize her for villanious actions or morals then you are using bad faith towards her. While I personally don't like her, I don't mind other people liking her but I despise that her stans all refuse to allow any conversation about her being a morally bad person. A person who enjoys cruelty and death, enjoys creating fear and is smug when she can control others. That is not a person Jon would love, let alone even respect.

Their entire relationship wreaks of abuse, of Jon being forced into this and knows he cannot leave it without risking his and his families lives. Remember when Tyrion gave a very small level critisism of her actions and she angrily accused him of treason and siding with his family instead of her? Well what do people think would she have done, if her attraction to Jon was refused? Someone who she took all the defenses away from, all the power from, and could have killed at any moment (dont make an ygritte comparison mimi dont make an yrgitte comparison this is a different anti jon x fandom female fave charecter post).

I don't care how the show frames it, or what the intent was. What we got on screen, was Jon Snow being held prisoner to an immoral, cruel, military conquerer. And when that woman was attracted to him, she essentially forced herself into his life and gave him all but no choice. The Jon bending the knee scene and..the uh...boat...scene...later...uhhh....anyways, those to me feel so out of charecter. You cannot convince me Jon did any of this willingly. He is clearly trapped in this situation and cannot leave and is only with her beacuse she is violent and bloodthrirsty. But beacause Jon is a strong, capable man, it's not talked about as if he's the victim and that is insane to me. (Oh my good god the ygritte comparisons are almost laughable send help).

I don't consider a lot past season 5 to be canon, but if I am forced too, then I refuse to accept Jon was a willing participant in that relationship.

Jon's parentage reveal will always be about the revelations of his mother, and the understanding and acceptance of WHY Ned raised him the way he did. And how it was both his parents, his mother and his adopted father who loved him and kept him safe. The very fact that Young Griff's entire story is based around whether or not he truly is Rhaegar's son as opposed to that being a twist reveal is beacuse HE is the charecter whose Targaryean links is the important one. Jon's story is about him as Stark, and is always shown to be the moral opposite of Dany.

Their relationship in the best senario is not canon, but if it has to be, then there is no world in which Jon is there of his own free will. He is being forced into this relationship against his will. But considering his other love interest was another charecter who essentially forced him into a relationship against his will, and we were supposed to root for that tells me all I need to know.

Dany is a sacred cow charecter, and her stans are unreasonable in defending her. When you can like a charecter and critize them for their actions. Ned Stark was an idiot for ever trusting Petyr Baelish, Catelyn Stark's spiteful attitude and neglect of Jon Snow is was abusive behavior, Theon Greyjoy was a moron who ruined his own life for a father who long since abandonded him. Bam all charecters I love and there are some major flaws that I refuse to defend them for but thats also what makes them good charecters. Their flaws arent writing flaws, they are personal flaws for them as people.

Dany is not allowed to have personal flaws she is always to be justified even with incredibly bad faith defenses, but when she is flawed it's the writings fault not hers. Dany is a cruel, sadistic, controlling, military tyrant who enjoys watching her subjects fear her and her dragons. And she forced Jon Snow into a relationship with her beacuse otherwise then he is against her and we already knew she has no use for people who dont support her to be alive.

Jon Snow deserved better then to have both his love interests be domineering, controlling, abusive women who forced him into a romantic and sexual relationship.

Also, I mean, incest being normal is only a learned trait from Targaryens supporting their own blood purity. Jon was not raised to think incest is normal. Dany thinks its normal beacuse she and Viserys both were raised to think that, and Young Griff thinks marrying Dany is normal beacuse he too was raised with the mentality that Rhaegar would've been raised with. Jon finding out Dany was his aunt would've had Jon looking right at Sam and just

[thelingeriejournal]

[adm-starblitzsteel-4305]

MAJOR SPOILERS ALERT!!!!!

New GxK: The New Empire Exclusive Chinese Trailer!!!!!

[pybun]

cant believe this shit

[gaygirldoodles]

In my JD era

[galaxythixf]

@ryusokcn said: ❝ That was so stupid, but thanks for the attempted save. ❞ - To Clove 𝐓 𝐎 𝐗 𝐈 𝐂 𝐈 𝐓 𝐀 Starters || Accepting

"Wha-?! Well I didn't exactly have a lot of options, Bobo!" They try not to raise their voice as to alert any ears looking for a reason to shut them up. Even as they weren't entirely upset at the idea of being cased in a cell—again, but now it digs into their memories and leaves a familiar stain they weren't entirely sure they ever had the opportunity to wipe clean. Thankfully, it's without the mortifying addition of a lifeless body as their cellmate but the pain is still there. It's been too many years for the pain to still sit with them and yet, it flows through their veins like ichor. It's just too similar a scene and no matter how many times they push, even if the memories retreat to the back of their mind, their feelings on the matter do not. It's dull, it's still there.

He's still there.

Now's not the time. Finlay's repressed memories weren't silenced but caged until they could find a better time to sort through them. Staring Sabo in the face through a pair of cell bars in the dead of night was not the time. "And as far as I'm concerned I did save your scrawny ass, ya numpty! You're still standin' over there without wifey and the guards knowin' any better, aren't ya?" Their finger pokes his chest between the bars, just to prove a point. "Then consider yourself saved!" Despite their stern tone, Finlay couldn't bring themselves to actually be upset about the results that they brought upon themselves. They understood the risks of sneaking Sabo out the second they suggested the idea, but since every attempt had gone flawlessly before, they had admittedly gotten too cocky not to believe they were ever able to get caught.

Whenever Sabo's concern was brought to light Finlay always insisted they had a plan if they were ever to get caught and left it at that. Somehow they never expected to use it and forced to improvise on the spot upon their return from town when they were confronted. The 'plan' they had wasn't entirely thought through but the concept was good enough for them to blabber on about. Lying was a skill they had sharpened for good use, and this counted as good use! A fabricated story about forcing their soon-to-be king to leave against his will made it a pretty simple decision to throw them in here. He could call it whatever he wanted, at least it absolved him of all responsibility.

"… Guess our luck had to run out eventually." Finlay's tone grows softer, bearing a small smile when they look up at him. "Don't get caught talkin' to me, I'll be alright."

[lovestuckyhatemarvel]

Listen, Yennefer and Ciri’s relationship is sort of becoming interesting. Kind of. I still don’t fully trust Yennefer with her because she’s fully repeated mistakes before, no matter what Yennefer claims.

The more annoying thing is Yennefer acting like Geralt not fully trusting her after she betrayed him can be fixed by writing letters and reminding him of the times they fucked.

Also is it just me or do the actors have less fucking chemistry than ever before? Like holy shit, I didn’t care much at all before about that pairing, but now it’s just actively unbearable.

[trans-gay-blob-of-slime]

Augh

[captainseamech]

Tag (re)Drop

//At long last, I finally decided to stop everything and focus on my blog by itself! This post is quite long (obviously) and a few tags were slaughtered in the process since I no longer use them and also to make place for new ones, but I hope this eases the tagging mess for once!!

🌊 | outside the ship / ooc

🌊 | inside the ship / ic

🌊 | stuck in my datapad / mobile

🌊 | coming aboard / threads

🌊 | message in a bottle / asks

🌊 | grayfaced annoyance / anonymous

🌊 | a reflection of myself / visage

🌊 | Lapis did a thing / arts & edits

🌊 | in troubled waters / memes & prompts

🌊 | watching over seas / dash comm

🌊 | this looks fun / dash games

🌊 | from another point of view / headcanons

🌊 | through the soul of a sailor / study

🌊 | you're not the only fish in the ocean... / musings

🌊 | all the beauties hidden underwater / aesthetic

🌊 | don't call me tidepod! / crack

🌊 | pay attention landlubbers! / psa

🌊 | maybe for later... / wishlist

🌊 | a story for another day / drabbles

🌊 | singing sea shanties / music & audio

🌊 | in the waves of love / ship stuff

🌊 | ocean man approval / promo

🌊 | ocean man brand / self promo

🌊 | captain's data log / status

🌊 | my new treasure / saved tag

🌊 | checking again / self reblog

🌊 | swimming along / queue

[softquietsteadylove]

Hi! I love all your work - it gives me life ~

I absolutely love how you’ve added so much detail (especially the small things) to these characters and the overall story!! It’s been fantastic to watch the little details grow and unfold over time.

I love your take on Thena and cold weather! If you have time or any ideas I was wondering if you could do something angsty that elaborates on that — maybe something like hypothermia? Thanks so much!!!

"Are you done yet?!"

"Easy, Gil," Phastos discouraged, although even the usually unbothered and unshaken Fabricator flinched at the harsh tone of it. His rings floated through the air as he examined their teammate--their poor, shivering sister. "She'll live."

"Of course she'll live!" Gil barked, standing from the edge of the greentank and out of the comforting chatter of Sersi and Ajak beside him. "I care about the fact that she's freezing!"

Thena curled up on Phastos' console/exam table, unable to stop her trembling as her body desperately tried to regulate itself. She wouldn't lose any limbs or anything, but even her body of Cosmic Energy was struggling to keep the blood in her veins flowing steadily. "G-G-G-Gi-Gil-"

"I'm here, Thena," he was quick to respond, all but shoving Phastos clear across the room as he moved to scoop her up into his arms again. Her trembling didn't exactly stop but certainly it was better than nothing. "I'm right here."

He had been there from the moment she was retrieved after falling through the ice and into the Baltic Sea.

They had been battling a pack of frighteningly large Deviants across the frigid landscape of the continent. Blizzards were constant and they had unwittingly tracked them right onto the ice.

"Ajak, please," he pleaded with their Prime, who one of the few Eternals who had not been on the receiving end of Gil's ire since returning. "Can't you do something?"

"I'm sorry," Ajak cooed, first at Thena, running her hand over her golden curls of hair. She looked up at Gil, pressing her palm to his cheek, "I can close wounds, mend bones, stop bleeding. But I can't make the heart pump faster."

There were a lot of intricacies to Ajak's powers, and Gil had tried to ask her about warming up Thena before to no avail.

"Just take her to bed," Ajak suggested, giving the Strongest Eternal her permission to be relieved of duty until Thena was in fighting condition again.

Gil pressed a kiss to Thena's temple as he walked out of the console room and towards his quarters. She always slept better in his bed than in hers, even when he was with her. "Don't worry, Thena. I'll get you warmed up."

She said nothing, her teeth chattering loudly in her jaw. She settled on pressing her cheek into him. "S-S-S-S-St-St-S-"

She couldn't muster a single word. Gil hurried into his room, immediately pulling the covers up over them as he wrapped his arms around her. He had seen Thena cold--she got cold pretty easily. But he had never seen her like this. He was scared.

Thena's hands clenched at him, trying to convey something. Either she didn't have the words or she wouldn't be able to verbalise them anyway. She tapped her fingers at his chest.

"Okay," he whispered, kissing her freezing cold forehead and taking her hands between his. Their armour dispersed from between them and he pulled her closer, pressing her skin to his.

Thena sighed.

Gil buried his nose in her hair, holding onto her as if the outside world were trying to rip her away from him. It this was what it took, he would hold her all night, not take his eyes off of her, hold her hands--anything.

Thena nestled and nuzzled closer to him continually, surrendering her pride to the need to feel his warmth. Eventually, her lips parted. "Gil."

"I've got you," he whispered, puffing hot breath against her cheek and then kissing it as if to seal it in.

"Got me," she repeated, finally showing some semblance of being Thena. She snuck her feet in between his, which he allowed wordlessly. Her hands flexed again, this time against the skin of his chest. "Better."

Better: better than the cold, better than she had been feeling before, better him than anyone else. Thena didn't need a plethora of words to communicate, least of all with him.

Gil meshed their legs together, his knees between hers and over top of her thigh. He moved his hands over the delicate sculpt of her hips, her ribs, her back. Everywhere her frigid skin yearned for his attention.

Thena continued to loosen as he held her, his hands so much warmer than any fire and so much more comforting than any blanket or pillow. And certainly, his presence was much more assuring than any power given by the Celestials.

Gil settled his arms around her waist and his hands on her back only when she was no longer trembling. She was all but purring when that satisfaction did eventually come. He moved his head on the pillow, so close to her that their lips and noses and eyelashes could brush with the slightest movement. His head bonked hers affectionately. "Warmer?"

"Much," she sighed against him, her face half buried under his and into his pillow.

"Good," he sufficed to say, not that he would be going anywhere any time soon. "You need rest. I'll be here."

"Good," she said in return, her hands leaving his hips and creeping their way up to his back as well.

He could tell that his warmth had really permeated her when her hands were no longer frigid but instead nice and warm on his back.

[theworstcreature]

Sensory issues not in the “if I wear socks I will immediately die and explode” way or the “socks are my lifeline. Without them, I shall perish” way but a secret third way (if I can even feel anything out of the ordinary on the ground (or honestly just go outside in general), I will burst into flames and need shoes at basically all times or else)

[bestial4ngel]

My god, the duel from great comet seriously has no right to be so good

[aquaticmercy]

Hot Chocolate?

Summary: Bucky wakes up from a nightmare and can’t find you.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader (she/her)

Warnings/tags : PTSD, nightmares, panic. very slight cursing. hurt/comfort. Very much an angsty fic.

Requested by : myself again 

Word count : 1.4k

Note : As someone who has struggled with sleep disorders, writing this helped me reach a strange catharsis. Since today is World Mental Health day, please check up on your friends, my loves! Oh and I am still accepting requests, I just have enough prompts for the rest of this week and will be replying to your asks at the start of next week! Also, do Americans use electric kettles? Sincerely, someone who lives in England.

Requests are open!

○ buy me a ko-fi ○

Bucky shot awake. He shuddered, trying to bat away the lingering visions of his nightmare that clung to him like a drenched blanket.

He found his lungs grasping for air with panic gasps as his eyes darted around the bedroom. The shadows casted by the starlight filtered through the curtains took shapes that made his heart race. For a split second, he thought he wasn’t in his apartment anymore. He was back in the Siberian Hydra lab, cold metal restraints nipping into his skin. He heard his handler’s voice speaking Russian, echoing the room with his old trigger words.

He forced himself out of this terrified state, grounding himself in reality. His chest was heaving, his eyes were bleary. Instinctively, his hand reached for the space next to him. 

It was empty.

You weren’t there.

A wave of panic crashed over him, and this was far more constricting than the terror of his nightmares. His heart started pounding more violently in his chest. His fingers grazed the sheets where you should have been. You had at least been gone long enough for the pillows to grow cold.

He could feel his pulse in his veins, each beat hammering the insides of his skull. His mind spiralled uncontrollably, thoughts feeding off the remains of the nightmare and twisting them into something much worse.

Had you left him? 

What did he do? 

Had he driven you away?

Was this it?

Bucky hastily threw off the covers, sprawling it all on your bedroom floor. He stumbled out of bed, mind clouded with fear and panic. The apartment was eerily quiet— too quiet for him to handle on his own. Too quiet for his overwhelmingly loud thoughts.

He waded through the hall as if he was four feet deep in muddy waters, his bare feet softly thudding against the floorboards. The faint sound of water boiling reached his ears. His breath hitched, his heart racing.

Emerging into the open space, his eyes darted around the dark living room, his gaze finally landing on the soft glow of the kitchen light.

He walked towards the kitchen.

There you were.

You were standing by the kitchen counter, a mug in one hand, the other resting on the kettle. You were so beautiful. So perfect, compared to him.

You looked lost in thought, your posture relaxed. It was a stark contrast to the storm raging inside him, though you were unaware.

Bucky’s feet stayed where he was for a moment, as if ice had frozen over him. Relief washed over him so fast that it nearly knocked all the air out of his lungs. 

You were here. You hadn’t left. 

The relief was quickly replaced by the gnawing ache of guilt, the kind that made his chest feel tight and his head swim feel like it was underwater. He’d thought you were gone, and the mere thought of it had sent him into a spiralling depth. How pathetic.

He couldn’t help it. He constantly felt like teetering on the edge of losing you. Like every day with you was borrowed time. Like he had already stayed his welcome. Like he wasn’t worthy of holding you in his arms.

Perhaps the reason he was so jaded sometimes, was that he was sure you’d wake up and realise he was too broken, too damaged. 

When he played this scenario in his head, you’d walk out the door, leaving him a shell of the man he is now. He thought about it more that he’d care to admit.

His heart was still pounding in his chest as he moved closer to you. His footsteps were slow and uncertain. Your eyes lifted to meet his stormy blue ones as he entered the kitchen, your brow furrowing in concern when you saw his pale, shaking face.

"Bucky?" your voice was soft, just barely above a whisper. 

He shivered a bit, unable to form words for just a second. The ache in his stomach and the ball in his throat made it impossible to speak. His eyes dropped to the floor, shame curling a painful knot in his core. 

“I woke up, and you weren’t there,” he finally muttered, struggling to get every word out, as if he was swallowing glass. “I thought…” He trailed off, the rest of the sentence too painful to say out loud. Instead, small sobs escaped his lips.

You set the mug down on the counter and closed the distance between the two. Your hand found his arm, your fingers warm against the cool vibranium. 

“Hey,” you said gently, willing your voice to be as soothing as can be, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I just couldn’t sleep.”

Bucky’s gaze stayed fixed on nothingness. You could hear his jaw clicking nervously, like a man terrified for his life. 

“I thought you’d left,” he admitted in a cracked whisper, sounding as fragile as he felt. “Thought I’d… driven you away.”

Your heart broke at the pain in his voice. He sounded like a whimpering puppy, begging to be held.

He had such a raw, vulnerable nature that he tried his best to keep hidden all the damn time. You moved closer, wrapping your arms around him as tightly as he allowed you to. You needed him to know you were never letting him go.

At first, his body was frozen like a petrified statue— he wasn’t sure he deserved the comfort. But slowly, his muscles relaxed under your touch.

“I’m right here, darling,” You whispered. Your words were firm but gentle. “I’m always right here.”

He let out a shaky breath. His forehead dropped to rest against the top of your head, breathing on your scent— the scent that always brought him a sense of calm. “I don’t… I don’t know why I keep thinking you’ll leave.”

“I’m not.” You pulled back slightly to look up at him, your hands resting on his chest. “I’m not,” you repeated again, hoping that if you said it enough times, he’d finally believe it.

The sincerity of those two simple words made his throat tighten, his chest constricting under the weight of emotions he had always struggled to fully process. He had never ever wrapped his head around how you could stand here, looking at him—someone so broken and damaged—with such gentle desire. He had never believed he deserved it.

But he wanted to believe, to trust that maybe he wasn’t as alone as he always feared. That maybe, just maybe, you weren’t going to leave him behind like he feared you would.

The faint shimmer of tears fractured the soft kitchen light. He was at a loss of words at how you were holding him together, when he couldn't even do it for himself.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I keep putting you through this.”

Your hand found his, fingers intertwining with his. Your grip was warm, It was reassuring and steady. “Don’t be,” you said softly. You could tell that he had a nightmare. You learned the signs— the shaking, the sweating. The look of restlessness despite being asleep for the last several hours. “You just had a rough night.”

Bucky trembled against you, feeling him unravelling as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His breath was short and it came in shaky bursts. Tears streamed down his cheeks, hot and heavy, soaking into your skin. They started quietly, a gentle release, but soon turned into shuddering sobs that echoed against the kitchen counter, the walls, the floors.

His grip tightened, fingers twirling into the fabric of your shirt as if you were his anchor in this reality. Each sob was raw, steeped in guilt and in the fear of losing you.

No matter how vulnerable he felt, he knew that in your embrace, there was no judgement. You held him tighter, whispering soft reassurances and sweet nothings— promises that you’d stay with him forever and ever. Until the end of time. Until your heart gave out.

“Do you want hot chocolate, too?” you asked softly.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he let out a small laugh, your words a shocking catharsis, bringing him out of the spiral. 

Oh, you always knew how to say the right thing at the right time.

He nodded, squeezing your hand one more time, just to reassure himself that you were real, that you weren’t slipping away.

You smiled gently at his quiet laugh, slightly reaching out to turn the electric kettle back on again without letting your grip on him falter.

As the kettle hummed in the background, Bucky held you close, finally convincing himself that no matter how dark the nightmares were, you would always be there when he woke up.

-end

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Giant! König Headcanons

Warnings: 18+, Creep! König, Perverted! König, König Owns a Cum Jar, Size Difference, Giant! König, Size Kink, Sadistic! König, Abuse of Power, Dub-Con, Cum Soaking, Attempts at Forced Impregnation, Implied Pregnancy, Voyeurism, Hostage Situation, Human Pet! Reader, Physical Violence, Human! Reader, Fem! Reader.

Giant! König captures you after he catches you sneaking around his castle, trying to loot something of value to take back to your impoverished village.

Giant! König immediately jumps at the opportunity to take you as his human pet, throwing you into a nearby jar and closing the lid, observing you like a spider beneath a glass.

Giant! König who, after deciding he wants to keep you long-term instead of turning your body into the sprinkles atop his ice cream, creates a more sustainable living space for you after discovering you’re not as durable as he thought (almost suffocating, dehydrating, and starving to death whilst being held in that damn jar).

Giant! König surprises you with a dollhouse of his own design: a door that locks from the outside, windows too small for you to crawl through, and walls made of a material too strong for your tiny utensils to burrow through.

Giant! König doesn’t take long to start using you for his own pleasure – almost like he has no other outlet; like he was just waiting for this opportunity to come.

Giant! König who, whenever he feels like punishing you, puts you in The Jar and stares you down whilst stroking his cock, gigantic even in comparison to other giants’. He grunts, berating you, telling you how he’d “Fill you with my cock if you weren’t so small – bet I could crush you with it if I wanted to.”

When he’s ready, he cums into the jar – all over you – thick and heavy, almost drowning you with just one spurt of his load.

He loves watching you struggle to keep your head above the viscous pool he’s trapped you in as you literally swim in his semen, looking up at him with pleading eyes, begging him to “Get me out, please!”.

He’ll often leave you in there without clothes to try and teach you a lesson. Until it turns into another reason – to breed you – which you accidentally sparked in him when you told him to be careful! You’ll end up getting me pregnant!

Giant! König can’t get your words out of his head, the primal urges he’s suppressed for so long unearthed by your pleas for him to spare you, if only once.

Giant! König knows he’s way too big to fit inside you, so this –  cumming profusely into a jar he’s encased you in whilst giving you no means of refusing his attempts – is the next best thing.

Giant! König gets off on the sheer size difference between the two of you  – the fact that you’re entirely dependent on him for your survival. Makes him feel like the kind of giant he’s supposed to be; strong and well-seeded.

Giant! König lays awake at night and fantasises about having a family, a far-off dream until you came along. It’s all he can think about as the image of you, his tiny wife, swollen to an almost painful degree as you bear his children, floods his mind, makes his cock twitch – harden. He resists the urge to relieve himself of this burden, preferring to save every ounce of his seed for you rather than wasting even a drop of it.

Giant! König who, despite his…questionable treatment of you, does try to treat you well. He lets you eat as much as you want, both because he knows you come from a poor background and because he has to keep you healthy to bear his offspring — especially since he knows they’ll be quite big compared to you.

Giant! König enjoys questioning you about your life before him, how humans work, what they do all day, whether the stereotypes of them all being lustful, pride-driven,  creatures are true.

If you validate any part of this stereotype, he’ll use that as an excuse to sink you in even more of his cum, to subject you to the task of sitting on his cock (horizontally, might I add) while he commands you to get yourself off by humping the shaft.

Man’s had no outlet for basicall all his life – he’s feral.

Giant! König loves to watch you while you’re tucked up in your dollhouse, observing everything you do. Humans are a rarity in the Giant Lands, so to have one in his home is a mythic occurrence.

Giant! König loves showing you off; he thrives on the reaction he gets when his friends see you. You’re, as stated before, a rarity in their parts, often used as a delicacy rather than a pet since humans aren’t particularly sturdy compared to giants, so managing to keep one alive is something of a status symbol in itself; the mark of a truly capable mate (hence captive humans are often given as courting gifts between giants).

However, König is also highly protective of you – especially after he caught Horangi (another giant he’d been showing you off to) goading you – harassing you – stroking his cock, telling you to “Lick the tip. Never felt a human tongue before.”

Needless to say, König never invited him around again after that.

Giant! König is, obviously, good with his hands and technical know-how. Thus, if his method of soaking you in his semen doesn’t work when trying to knock you up, he’ll create some unlawful contraption to make it inevitable.

Despite his size, König has managed to make a tiny glass syringe that he’s packed with his cum, holding you down easily with one hand as he presses the tip to your entrance, pumping you full of his seed.

He struggles to contain how the scene – the feeling – of you trying desperately to fight him off, to stop him from filling you, makes him feel. You have to watch the bulge between his legs grow as the feeling of being filled past full overcome you.

Giant! König does this as many times as he likes until he knows his seed’s taken, when you start showing. Which, considering how big his offspring will be, is pretty early on.

He definitely makes maternity clothes for you – comfortable garments that show the swell of your stomach as the weeks crawl by into months.

Giant! König loves bathing you, too. Especially after he’s covered you in his cum.

There’s something so intimate and gentle about it – a scarcity in the Giant Lands. Having something so small and fragile in his hands, knowing that he can crush you in his grip at any moment, makes him feel…responsible. Trustworthy.

Giant! König will never let you go, btw. You can try to run as much as you want, but he’ll always catch up to you, his human pet.

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[galaxythixf]

Starter || @ryusokcn The work it takes to wedge themselves in here has frankly become a skill and avoiding any eye contact or sight from guards of the like make it all the more impressive that they haven't passed out due to a lack of stamina but it's likely they're used to it now. Ever since they met Sabo making their way to him every now and again had become somewhat of a habit while paying close attention to avoid any prying local eyes. They were practically a master by now — or they liked to think so. "You awake yet, Princey? Get on wit it, good mornin'!" Hushed rests their tone as they position themselves into a more comfortable space.

"Listen, there's a place down by the wayside I been meanin' to check out. What say you and I do a wee bit of dining and possibly more dashin' — well probably more dashin' — preferably more dashin'." Finlay didn't exactly have the funds to support their schemes more often than not and rather than badger their friend for their wealthy handouts, they usually settled for roping him into their scams, not that he seemed to mind. "Your royal duties can wait until we have a meal or two … or three if we really mean it. I'm not too picky, just hungry."