#the return of the scarf tail

[sraksha]

The pretty fish are fighting for the best spot

[floralstorms]

Snoofkin/Snufkin in some of the different outfits

[bunnis-monsters]

SFW

a/n: here’s another kofi request, featuring Momo the bunny hybrid playing in the snow for the first time ^^

Your bunny hybrid lover, Momo, used to hibernate during the winter. Because he lived in the wild by himself, there was no reason to stay awake when food was scarce and predators were desperate for a meal.

But then he met you, and all of a sudden he couldn’t even fathom being away from you for an entire season. The thought of not getting to enjoy your kisses and soft snuggles or eat your delicious cooking while he spent all winter asleep was… heart wrenching.

“So you’ll stay with me for winter,” you said with a smile, carrying a basket of fresh vegetables and fruit on your hip. “It’s settled. Now help me start canning, winter will creep up on us before we know it.”

And it really did.

Summer and fall were gone in a flash, the air growing colder as trees lost their leaves and the grass became withered and dry. Soon, snow would blanket the earth and it would be time to hunker down for the harsh winter months.

But for now, your bunny hybrid mate was collecting firewood with some other male hybrids in the area.

“You’re really not hibernating this year, Momo?”

Momo’s bunny ears flicked, and he turned to his deer hybrid friend. “Sorry, I’ll be with my mate this year.”

A raccoon hybrid nearby laughed, leaning against a tree. “You’ll miss out on the best sleep of the year, Momo. Is a girl really worth it?”

His foot thumped against the ground rapidly. Momo loved you with his whole heart, so he really disliked when his friends didn't take your relationship seriously. “Yes, it is completely worth it. I love her.”

Momo carried back the firewood with a huff, setting it down by the fireplace. You were at the stove, preparing dinner and humming some love song you heard on the radio. It took him a moment to register that you were speaking to him, he always got distracted by how much he adored every little thing you did.

“Momo? Did you hear anything I just said?”

He blinked before giving you a flustered smile. “Uh.. mmm, what did you say?”

You bit back a laugh, wiping your hands off on your apron before you turned his way.

“I asked if you could watch the stove for a moment, I need to check the news.”

Momo scurried over, taking the wooden spoon from your hand and taking over stirring the soup you were working on. “O-of course, sweetheart. I can handle that.”

You returned to the kitchen a moment later, phone in hand. “Oh wow, we’re in for a couple inches of snow tonight.”

Momo’s ears perked up at your words, clicking slightly. He had never seen snow before due to hibernating every year, and safe to say he was pretty excited. “Really? And snow… is it really as cold as people say?”

“Mhm!”

The two of you ate dinner then curled up in bed together. It was hard for Momo to drift off when he knew that he’d get to see fresh snow in the morning, but your warmth and soft breathing lulled him into sleep.

He woke up to you getting dressed. Momo rubbed his sleepy eyes, sitting up. “Mmph… what are you doing?”

You turned, giving him a smile. “Getting ready to play in the snow, of course.”

Momo never got dressed quicker than he did that morning. You made sure to bundle him up properly before opening the door.

The ground was covered in a thick layer of snow, and it crunched under his feet with each step. He was in awe, bending over to reach out and touch it.

“C-cold!”

You laughed as he drew back and hid behind you, his fluffy tail wagging furiously. “Yes, it’s very cold. C’mon, we can build a snowman first.”

Momo laughed as he ran around the yard, making the third ball for your snowman. Once his head was on, the two of you decorated it with some rocks and a scarf.

As Momo was admiring his work, he yelped when he felt a snowball hit his head. You were standing a small distance behind him, giggling as you prepared another ball.

“H-hey!”

Momo pouted as he began preparing a ball too, but several times he was pelted with snowballs before he could get his first one done.

After tiring yourselves out with a snowball fight, the two of you laid in the snow, your breaths coming out in white puffs as you made snow angels.

“Is it like this every year?” Momo asked, turning to meet your gaze.

You shook your head, smiling as you reached out to brush some snow out of his hair. “Mmm… no. Although it snows every year, I never have this much fun. Usually I just spend winter inside, alone. You... make everything a lot better.”

His cheeks flushed red, and he looked away in embarrassment. “Ah…”

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a bit before you sat up. “Brr, it’s cold. Let’s go inside and I’ll make some hot chocolate.”

“With cookies?”

“Mhm.”

The two of you headed inside, hand in hand, warming up just so you could go back to playing in the snow later.

———————

SFW TAGLIST: @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @peachesdabunny @misswonderfrojustice @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @zyettemoon1800 @kassandra-hawthorne @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @omglovelylaila @midromiell @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @hammerhead96 @bubblez-blop @snugglyshoji @wanderlustingcastaway @amberexe2 @an-ever-angry-bi @nenggie @rainejiang @lostsomewhereinthegarden @idkccdfnfz @xrenka @arcticat @v3lv3tf0x @ghostiegirl56 @aerangi @kxnnxy @joviaschaoticmind @danielle143 @roxy776699 @katsukis1wife @chaoticevilbakugo

[wishful-sinful-9]

YOU WANT IT DARKER

Logan Howlett x Reader

MASTERLIST

cw: stalkerish!logan, kidnapping, kinda dubcon, smut, piv, oral (f receiving), biting, hair pulling, body worship, overstimulation, just feral sex, both parties are a little unhinged, reader has no sense of survival instinct bless her

halloween special (better late than never) 🐺

Was this karma? Had you been some sort of puppy-kicking throat-slashing cold-hearted bitch in a past life? Are you being bit in the ass for it? Or had the universe just singled you out at some point to be an object of constant torment?

You'd thought a small town in the mountains was just what you needed: peace and quiet, beautiful landscapes, charming locals. The reality was freezing temperatures as early as September, and elderly neighbours that are just as frosty to the strange young newcomer. Two months in, you could no longer take the loneliness - life became a little brighter when you adopted your fiercely loyal, and almost terrifyingly giant, doberman you named (aptly, in your opinion) Baby.

And then you left the Goddamn back gate open.

Miles of forest stretch up the mountainside behind your house. You've been trudging through the dense woods for hours, voice hoarse from calling for your dear Baby. A whisper in the back of your mind tells you it's a lost cause; he must have gotten too far to find his way back, and God knows the predators lurking in these shadows willing to attack him. These shadows that are getting deeper with each passing minute.

A shiver runs through you, in spite of your thick scarf and fur-lined coat. You scan the surrounding trees as you realise that it's getting harder to see past them.

That's when you halt abruptly.

You have no idea where you are.

-

Right and wrong blurs into eachother sometimes for Logan. He's been alone for so long, and his instincts are so loud, he can't fight these strange animal tendencies that claw into him every so often.

And you, well you didn't help him at all.

Why the fuck would a pretty young woman like you be doing living round here? Walking around his forest every damn day, with that hound that you love so deeply, even though it could easily wrench its lead from your grip or bite your arm clean off with one snap of its wolfish jaws. Of course, he knows it would never do such a thing - it loves you like all dogs love their owners, unconditionally and obsessively and devotedly. It loves you like how he'd love you.

Picking a spot in the shadows and watching you pass by was one thing. Beginning to follow you on your route, all the way back to your home though - his conscience was beginning to blink its red warning lights.

Yet every time he indulges in his guilty pleasures, those lights fade a little more.

He doesn't notice they've gone completely black when he sees you presently, stood shivering in the depths of the forest. Lost.

Your dog blinks up at him, eyes bright and tongue lolling. Excited to introduce you to his new friend.

-

The darkness of the encroaching night, the cruel icy wind, and the severity of your situation is all forgotten when your blessed Baby appears like an angel from the shadows.

“Baby! Oh, my God, Baby,” you sob, kneeling as he runs to you with a furiously wagging tail. “Where have you been, boy? Where the hell have you been?”

You unwind the leash from where you'd knotted it and clipped it to your belt loop and reach for Baby's collar. He twists, not with any fear or violence, out of your grip in an instant. You frown. He hasn't done that before.

He trots over to where he had appeared from, glancing back and stopping, encouraging you to follow.

You step forward, “What are you..”

He returns to shepherd you to his desired direction. You do so, praying that once he's successfully shown you whatever impressive stick or pinecone it is that you can finally go home.

You trudge after your dog for a few more minutes before deciding you've had enough. “C'mon, pup, let's go home. Aren't you hungry? Eh, boy? Want some- shit!”

Baby sprints off suddenly, lightning-fast.

Your feet move before you can think. You're far too exhausted for this chase, but you are not going to lose him again. You shout after him as you sprint through the darkness.

You break through the trees and find yourself skidding to a stop - in front of you, there is a black iron gate.

Beyond it, a gravel drive leads to a shadowed, decrepit manor house, lit only by the full moon above. You don't have time to wonder why there was ever a house built this deep into the wilderness, because Baby's running straight to the open door.

-

He pets the dog idly, knowing you'll soon follow. It licks his palm.

The scent of roses, your perfume, strengthens as he hears the stumbling of your hiking boots at the entrance. The dog barks, and you follow the sound.

You burst into the living room, eyes wild when they meet his own.

Got you.

-

His dark eyes are unsettlingly wide as he stares you down.

The man whose home you've just broken into is unlike any around here; considerably younger than the elderly folk in town, perhaps in his thirties. Beyond that, there's something abnormal about him: he towers over you, huge in stature and wide with muscle. And one of his terrifyingly huge hands is petting your dog.

“I am so, so sorry sir,” you stammer stupidly, taking a wobbly step back. “He just - ran off - he never does it I swear, I'll get out of your- Baby, Baby, c'mere.”

He doesn't move.

You tremble as you contemplate grabbing him by the collar. But you can't seem to bring yourself to move towards this man.

“Baby, please-”

The man says your name.

Your blood runs cold. You bring your gaze to his, slow with terror. Another step back.

You could cry when Baby finally moves away from him, only to be further horrified when you beloved protector only does so to get behind your legs and usher you towards the man. The strange man who somehow knows your name.

You lurch forward at a hard nudge of Baby's head against your calf - into his arms. Strong, large arms that wrap around you tightly. Shit. Oh shit.

You shriek, attempting to wriggle free, but the man holds you to him tighter. He removes one arm, keeping you there solidly still with the other, and curls his fingers into a fist.

And three knife-sharp metal claws unsheath from his knuckles.

Your fighting ceases immediately. He doesn't hold them to you in threat, merely displays them in warning: Don't. Even. Try.

They disappear back into his hand and he brings his lips to your ear.

“You ain't going nowhere, sweetheart.”

-

It would've been a nice room, once. A canopy bed in the centre, a velvet loveseat at the foot of it, and a large window stretching across the far wall. Only now, the canopy's sheer curtains are torn, the colour of the seat's fabric faded, and the window completely boarded up.

The only source of light is a lone candle on the dresser. You pace in its dim light, shaking like a leaf, gasping short, panicked breaths.

He'd picked you up as if you'd weighed nothing at all and deposited you in this room, locking it and ignoring how you banged and screamed and shouted at the door. It didn't take long before you'd exhausted yourself and resorted to desperately racking your brain for means of escape.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

You sink to the floor with your head in your hands. Hiccupy sobs escape your lips, eyes sore from crying.

A gentle click of the door opening alerts you of his presence.

“I'm not gonna hurt you.”

As he lingers in the doorframe, even bigger from where you're crumpled on the floor, you find it hard to believe. Your breathing speeds up again.

In a stride, he's kneeling beside you. You jerk away with a cry as he tries to reach for your wrist.

His hand curls around your chin and brings your tear-stained, crazed face to his. The wildness in his eyes before was gone - there's a shocking earnestness in them now, as if he hadn't just used your only companion against you in luring you into his home.

“Deep breath in,” he murmurs.

What?

“Deep breath in, I said. Do it, girl.”

For some bizarre reason, you do it - drawing in a deep, shaky breath and holding it.

“Now out.”

You exhale.

“Again - in,” you do, “out.”

You can't shake the feeling that you're in some absurd dream as you repeat the process with your abducter until your breathing returns to normal.

He retracts his hand from your face and with a weak voice you whimper, “Who are you?”

“Logan.” He grunts.

“What do you want?”

He gazes at you for a long moment. When he responds, you detect a tremble in that baritone voice: “I've been alone for so. Damn. Long. Then you came along, into my woods, into my head, and now I'm losing it.”

His words send chills racing down your spine. Had he been watching you?

“It's like this instinct. This animalistic urge, that makes me want to keep you here - where I can keep you safe, keep you with me-”

“You're a mutant,” you rasp. He nods. “My parents always told me to stay away from... your people.”

“They aren't my people. I'm alone.” You flinch at the sharp edge to his tone.

He raises himself from the floor, looming over you again. You cower under his shadow.

“Well,” he grunts, “not anymore, I suppose.”

He locks the door behind him.

-

You don't know how many days have passed since Logan first took you.

It was only the day after that fateful night that he unlocked your room, under strict order to not leave the house. His only other kindness was to get some clothes for you from your house. You hadn't given him the keys.

Baby is your only comfort, as he curls up beside you at night for warmth. Even still, he seems to have developed some sort of bond with your captor, and is unwilling to be the guard dog you'd have assumed he would be in a situation such as this.

You've taken to slinking about in the shadows, rarely directly coming in contact with Logan; instead, you observe him.

His mutant abilities are not limited to the claws; from what you've gathered, he has some sort of heightened sense of smell and hearing. You know it would be foolish to try and escape because he'd sniff the nerves on you in an instant.

He feeds you mostly meat, which you pick at with little appetite.

It's those minor interactions, when he hands you your meal, that you ponder over throughout the long, cold days and nights. Had he lingered for longer to watch you eat? Did his fingers graze yours when he passed you the plate?

It soon came apparent to you, that this ominous, claw-bearing creature was no more than a man in isolation.

In a largely anti-mutant society, it's push everyone away, or be shunned and hurt. In this world, he's abnormal. Dangerous. A monster.

And you want to crawl into his skin and find what he is really: man or beast?

-

His ears prick at the shuffle of your feet. No matter how often he hears you move about, you never fail to excite his paranoia.

But you never do run, or lash out, or panic. You just remain in the darkness, watching.

In truth, he regrets doing this to you. It was the primal part of his brain eating the rational, and now you were constantly in his proximity, the animal had calmed itself and the human had settled in. Still, he could not bring himself to set you free. Not until he'd figured out how to get himself back to how he'd used to be.

Click.

He froze.

The door. You were at the door.

He set his beer bottle down hard on the table, a warning. He was there. He'd know if you were escaping.

The smell of fresh night air leaks into his nostrils, and he stalks over to the foyer.

You're halfway out the door - staring at him.

For a heartbeat, you keep his furrowed gaze, heart rabbiting in your chest. Then you bolt.

-

You barely make it to the gate before rough hands slam you backwards into his chest.

You don't struggle. You just pant in his hold.

A long, terrible moment of silence passes that makes you doubt your confidence in emerging from this situation unharmed. When he finally speaks, his lips brush the shell of your ear.

“What. Was. That.”

You squeak, “I wanted to see if you'd go after me.”

You're flung over his shoulder and marched straight back to the house.

He dumps you on the tattered armchair by the fireplace, and leans over you - gripping each arm of the chair to cage you in. His eyes are as dark as you've ever seen them.

“You have your answer,” he growls.

“Logan I-”

“Now I want to find out mine.”

You press yourself back into the chair. “Answer to what?”

“Why did that turn you on?”

Your mouth runs dry and your cheeks are ablaze. You shake your head furiously, refusing to meet his eye. “I don't know what.. Uhm..”

One hand is no longer on the chair, instead it's on your cheek. Forcing you to look at him.

Wordlessly, he drops his hand... and shoves it down your pants instead. It's then that it hits you: that heightened sense of smell of his can detect arousal too.

A thick finger runs through your folds, gathering the slick sticking to your panties.

“Logan-”

“You are turned on.”

He sounds almost a little incredulous, as he pulls out his hand and studies how your arousal shines in the milky moonlight, coating his fingertips.

You make a little noise of embarrassment, and it turns his attention back to you. Wide-eyed, flushed, lips slightly parted. And a switch flips.

He grasps the back of your head to meet him halfway as he crushes his lips against yours. Bruising, but for some reason, addicting.

You moan slightly, opening your mouth to encourage his tongue and it makes his mind blur.

He tears away after a minute, and, operating as if possessed, rips your pants open.

You gasp, but have no time to reconsider: your panties are torn clean off too, and a finger is curling deep inside you.

Your wails prompt him to try another, his thumb circling your clit, the pads of his fingers pressing against the spot that makes your eyes roll. You can barely gasp his name, so overwhelmed and lost in pleasure.

It's not enough. He needs to taste you.

You almost scream when his mouth replaces his thumb, sucking desperately on your clit. He laps at you with such animalistic intent, the haze in your mind lets through one paralysing thought: how does he fuck?

The pressure builds in a way you've never experienced before - so quick and heavy, like a tidal wave, and when you cum he almost ruins his pants along with you. The sheen of sweat over your face, your heaving chest, that sweet white release trickling down his palm. More.

Your hand flies into his hair as his fingers begin to move again and his mouth is somehow faster and needier than before.

“L-Logan I can't-”

He groans gutterally as he pulls away for a second to spread your juices over your throbbing flesh, already swollen. When he dives in again, you just grip his hair for dear life.

The next orgasm has your thighs clamping tightly around his head, but he simply prys them apart again. You tug at his hair and he finally breaks away to kiss you hard.

You taste yourself on his tongue.

He doesn't let up until you're both in desperate need of air, and you take the opportunity to strip off your top and bra. His hands, shaking you realise, come up to cup your tits gently, his eyes greedily savouring the sight.

“Beautiful..perfect..let me fuck you.” He gazes in your eyes with such desperation, you lean forward to cup his face and kiss his nose.

“Anything, anything for you, Logan.”

-

You don't give a damn about that rug burning against your back. Not when he's so deep inside you, you swear you can feel him in your throat.

“Sweet girl,” he sucks into the juncture of your neck and shoulder. “Take me so well, does it hurt?”

“Mm-mm,” you hum, eyes welling with tears of overstimulation. “Just move. Fuck me, Logan-”

He lifts your knees, pressing the backs of your thighs to your chest, and slams into you over and over at an unrelenting pace. Your mouth hangs agape, crying for the pleasure. It's as if the beast in him has bled into your skin, making you want him closer, deeper, faster. You claw at his shoulders. He leans down to nip and nuzzle at your jaw and neck, but your lips only move to moan.

“I can feel you - so tight - cum for me, sweetheart,” he grunts out, “cum all over my cock.”

You do as he wishes with a scream of his name.

He watches the sticky mess where his dick meets your cunt grow with your latest release, and he wants even more.

You're too dumb to register how he hasn't cum yet, but is pulling out of you. You let him manhandle you with ease until you're on your front, cheek against the floor while Logan grips your hips to keep your ass up.

Like this, he can better watch it all drip out of you.

You let out a little whine, eyes fluttering shut as you're sure he just wants a final look. You jolt as you suddenly feel his tongue thrust into your hole and curl. “No more-”

You shiver at the obnoxious wet sounds of him licking up the mess between your thighs, pushing back against his face despite yourself. You breathe out a sigh of relief when he pulls away - then you feel the head of his cock notch against your entrance.

With the last of your deteriorating strength, you try your best to crawl away from his sloppy thrusts.

“I'm not done,” he growls, pulling you back onto his cock and pounding you harder. You give in, eyes rolling, back arching, front pressed to the floor once more.

“Give it to me.”

You can't.

“C'mon.”

He reaches round to rub your clit in mean circles.

“Let go.”

You cry, and clench so hard around him it feels as if your pussy is pulling him in.

You gush around him, and his hips stutter as he approaches his own release. You press back as you feel him try to slip out - “Inside me, Lo, fill m' up..”

With a shout, he cums deep inside you, only pulling out once completely milked dry. He groans at the sight of your twitching thighs, and the creamy mess leaking from your cunt. He pushes it back in before standing.

You're a sticky, panting, fucked-out thing when he gathers you in his arms, pressing his lips to your hairline.

“Can I keep you?” he grins down at you, the first time you've seen him smile. You beam and kiss his cheek.

“Keep me forever.”

a/n: this has not been well edited but I hope you enjoyed nonetheless! I've had a bit of writers block but the first part of the knight!au and the bbf!peter oneshot is on its way, slowly lmao

[shinyshade8026]

Buzzes and Biscuits

Requested by: @skull-pup

S comes home from an exhausting day of work and wants to relax. They find V wanting to do the same.

Word count: 1900

It was just a day like any other for the disassembler. Tireless work for hours into the night left S trudging up the stairs with a tired expression set on their visor. There was a downside when it came to helping the workers rebuild the city and get things running. They weren’t the only disassembly drone working on this, of course, the others would help as well, and even a few strangers. The process was slow, but Copper-9, or at least the city around Outpost-3, was starting to look livable again, but it was taking up a lot of time and energy. It felt tense and sluggish when it got home, but they felt a bit more awake upon seeing their housemates and family. 

As S slowly made its way up the carpeted steps, it used its delicate sensors to pick up the sounds of the others in the house. Asmi and Cosmo were playing a game in the living room, while E and J were pressed together on one side of the couch, watching the young drones while having quiet conversations. S couldn't find the sound of one drone in particular, making their chassis prick uneasily. Where was V?

S finally made it up the flight of stairs and ended up on the second floor, casting a lazy glance down the hall. The faintest rattle of chains gave away the sound of L remaining where she was, making a devilish grin part the blonde drone’s lips. It turned its attention to its bedroom, already itching to lay in bed and just relax. Their clawed hand found the doorknob, their other rubbing their optics. They quietly turned the knob, thinking gleefully at the fact they didn’t have to go help with the city the next night.

As it twisted the knob and pushed open the door, S largely expected to see nothing but a dark room and their neatly made bed. Instead, they saw a familiar jacket and scarf plopped on the bed, and a certain silver-haired drone creating a lump in the bed as she buried her face into the pillows. It smiled softly, seeing V turn her head just enough so it could see one of her half-open optics staring into their mismatched ones. 

The shorter drone made a sleepy noise, which S assumed to be a greeting, and their partner returned her greeting with a small wave. They quietly walked to the bed, rubbing their eyes while V sat up, her silver hair in a slightly tangled mess. The blanket fell from its point on her back as she waved them towards her with a slowed motion. It chuckled, thinking her sleepiness was cute. V noted their chuckle, which made her huff and puff her cheeks in a fake pout, causing S to giggle more. They loved it when she was herself. Not the psychopathic or strong mask she put up. Herself. The sweeter, softer, and sometimes playful, worker drone from when they were younger. 

They knew she was only this way around them. It somehow made them feel… special... 

It crawled onto the bed, taking off its jacket and tossing it to sit by V’s. Once they had settled in a sitting position, V draped herself over their lap, stretching out like a big cat and giving them a sleepy smile. The modified drone felt their core flare up and their tail rattled happily while they lovingly ran a hand through her hair, eliciting a quiet purr from her.

They kept running their hand through her hair, gently shifting apart the small tangles until they could freely run their hand through her hair with no issues. While they did this, V’s purrs increased, her tail slowly swaying with pure contentment. S tilted their head to the side as they continued what they were doing, noticing how her tail went and coiled around its leg as she stretched even more.

“You’re sleepy,” it noted without much thought, gently smiling. The disassembly drone’s only response at first was a half nod followed by a yawn. 

Once her yawn finished, V spoke, “Mph… very sleepy, but I need to do something before I sleep or else I’ll forget to do it by the time I have to leave tomorrow,”

S twirled a strand of her hair in their fingers, their tail nudging hers to try and get it to move from their leg to their tail, “You think I’d be able to help, Vivi?”

The sprawled-out drone lightly batted away S’s hand and deployed one of her wings, the one furthest from S. They flexed their wing before glancing at their partner. “I need to sharpen the blades of my wings, I keep forgetting to do it while I have the time, so they’ve ended up getting a bit duller than I’d like,”

It nodded, reaching for the bedside table drawer to grab the whetstone they shared for their wings. V stretched out more, flexing her wing before pulling it in so S could start. Her eyes closed while her arms crossed under her head to make her comfortable. Before starting, S ran their hand through her hair again and leaned to place a kiss on the arm of her wing. The gesture made her jolt slightly and she whirled her head to them, the expression she was met with was a gentle and sweet smile, making her core burn and flutter. How in the hell did she get so lucky?

She settled back into her previous position as S gently ran the whetstone along the edge of her longest feather blade. The sound was quiet and constant, letting both drones tune it out and focus on the other sounds.

Like V’s very noticeable purring as she tried not to fall into the comfortable haze of sleep.

S chuckled, the buzzy sound feeling like music to their ears. Once they had finished that blade, it moved to the next, slowly sharpening the shiny, slightly scratched, metal blades. During the process, the canister end of V’s tail started to sway in a slow wagging motion as her entire body relaxed, making S smile even more as their tail began to do the same, with an added quiet buzzing noise.

The blonde drone worked efficiently, sharpening her wings thoroughly while moving quickly so the two could rest sooner, but not fast enough to make things uncomfortable for V.

Within a short while, S had finished V’s left wing and was nudging her to turn so they could sharpen the other one. She obliged, of course, sitting up on their lap to turn and lay the other way, but not before kissing them for a moment. The sudden action made the taller drone blush profusely, making the yellow-eyed one snicker before laying down again and deploying her other wing. 

S blinked a few times to snap back into reality while their blush settled to a few ticks on their cheeks. It started applying the whetstone to V’s other wing blades, humming a song quietly while it worked on them. 

They delicately traced one of their claws over some of the deeper scratches in her wings, a thin frown settling on their lips. They knew it was just from normal usage, but seeing V hurt in any way made its core ping with sadness. 

The sprawled-out drone notices its pause in working, tilting their head to see its face before gently taking its hand into theirs and kissing the softly glowing triangle on the back. S jolted from the action, the sweet touch bringing them out of their sad stupor. No words were shared between them, only a loving stare before S smiled and rubbed the side of her hand with their thumb, returning to running the whetstone along the edges of V’s wings to continue the sharpening process.

It went a bit slower for this wing, the blades dulled from usage on her dominant side. At this point, it seemed like the smaller of the two was asleep by now, but the readjustments and shifts every few minutes told S that she was still awake. By the time S had finished both of her wings, they wanted to fall backward and rest. To which they obliged.

V made a chirping noise as they did so, sitting up to give them a blank look before taking the whetstone from their hands, placing it onto the bedside table, and draping herself over their front. She momentarily snuggled her face into their neck, hearing their purring begin again from her affection. When she sat up again, she heard a small grumbled sound from them, which she rolled her eyes at with a smile while grabbing their brush. 

S watched as V lay down, holding the blanket to the side so they could come and snuggle her, an offer they quickly gave in to. The taller drone lays on top of her, their head near her core and their body coming up from between her legs. Once they had settled down, V tugged off their beanie to get at their hair, chewing on her lip from the tangles she knew her hand couldn’t work through. Well, that was why she grabbed the brush.

She started to run the brush through their pale blonde hair, careful not to hurt them as she brushed it out. They soon were reduced to a purring mess, their tail wagging underneath the covers. V held the side of its face in her palm, her thumb rubbing its cheek while she brushed out the tangles. She kept this up, getting every inch of their fluffy hair while reassuring the blue sections stayed together.

Drones, workers specifically, often commented that the disassembly drones behaved like cats, which V couldn’t exactly disagree, not when she acted cat-like during moments. Especially around S. Speaking of the drone, their optics had closed a couple of minutes into the brushing, and their hands had settled into a spot on her chest, fingers curled slightly toward their palms. 

V focused on their hair, keeping it fluffy and soft as she went through it. She assumed that S would fall asleep while she did this, so she locked in on her task, her own optics drooping as her sleepiness began to get at her due to being surrounded by comfort. S was strangely a good weighted blanket.

However, something snapped her out of focus, making her blink a few times in surprise and look down. What she saw provided a smile to her, and even a small chuckle. 

S was half awake, gently kneading ‘biscuits’ on her tank top. She could feel their clawed fingertips slightly graze her metal as they moved, but it didn’t bother her. She could hear its purring increase as they did this, encouraging V to continue purring as well, filling the space of their bed with the sound of buzzy purrs, a sweet sound to both of their audinals. 

V finished brushing their hair, half haphazardly tossing the brush somewhere else onto the bed before locking her fingers together on S’s back, holding them close as she fell into a sleep-induced state, S inching themself up her chest to get closer to her face. Their kneading slowed, and eventually stopped, as they soon fell asleep alongside her, a sleepy smile etched onto their face.

[justafairytailofinnocence]

Newt scammander x mermaid reader🧜‍♀️🌊🪄✨️

Newt scammander, a magizoologist, first caught sight of you within the bay of the forbidden forest.

You were the only species of mermaid that frequently surfaced. Seeking massive interest, he wanted to study you.

You were observed frequently sitting on the rocks, showing high levels of intelligence in communication.

Newt began to sketch your anatomy, the look of your tail and your appearance. Believing to have discovered a new species of mermaid that's never been seen before.

As you sat upon the rocks and your tail fin draping below, just touching the murky water. You heard a noise from behind. Upon seeing a mysterious reddish-brown haired man, wearing a light blue trenchcoat with a yellow and black scarf representing hufflepuff draped around his neck. you nearly freaked. You pushed from the rocks into the black lake's water.

Newt—not meaning to have frightened you—stepped forward. He was curious to know if you have high levels of adaptive communication, understanding English.

Your tail gently swam up and down toward the surface. Curious about whom that human was, it's not natural to see men out this far—nor have they ever seen you before.

Your head peeked above the surface. Your eyes curiously gazed at him, wondering if he had any sort of good or bad intention.

Newt muttered, "i-i'm s-sorry I didn't mean t-to disturb you—" unsure if you understood a word. "You're very exquisite, something I only wish to understand if you let me."

He has a gentle voice. Kind. Soft. You thought.

You were still unsure, but you raised yourself amongst the surface more. Exposing your neck and head, but enough to still keep your gills in the water. You felt the wind gently billow against your skin.

"Are you the only one of your kind? are you gregarious? Or are you solitary?" He asked.

You understood him, deciphering his dielect, thanks to the many witches and wizards speaking among the surface.

You held up your index finger saying "Just me."

Newt, impressed by you, took notes within his journal. "Just you? S-sounds rather isolating."

Your head bobbed within the waves as your tail gently swayed to maintain balance. "Do you have a name?" he asked.

"Y/n" you said simply.

"Y/n. Extraordinary." He smiled to himself. It seemed everything you did fascinated him.

"Mine i-is Newt." He smiled back, feeling a connection between you.

"Newt." You say back, your lips curving into a smile.

"I-i have to go now, but I'll come back." Newt said with a hint of disappointment.

The weird reddish-brunette man carrying a journal left. Oddly, you were fond of him. This was the first time anyone had tried to communicate to you.

Over the next few days, the odd man came back exactly in the afternoon. You sat upon the same rock smiling at him. Often, he would bring food, fish, crustacean, and squid—sometimes kelp, but you weren't highly fussed on that.

Newt would speak to you of the surface world, fascinating you even more. You find it odd that many wore clothes, let alone how they were living in huge stone like rocks—meaning houses to him—. You didn't understand how they walked, how they ate, and how they flew on magical sticks.

Newt eventually offered you a safe place where he could study you further, inside his bag? Though that was only an illusion, inside, there was a whole sanctuary with different creatures. You were hesitant at first but the idea appalled to you.

Newt and you formed an unlikely bond, as he routinely brung you food in return to study you further.

One day, along the shores of the black Lake. He spotted a woman faced down within the sand. Newt worried came to your side, realising it was you but with legs?! As to how this happened was a mystery.

He took you in quickly as bunty, a kind lady who assisted newt, helped aid you. When you awoke, you were rather freaked, as this was not your usual environment. When you looked down, you saw legs!

You stood up from the bed, trying to walk but finding it rather difficult. Newt reassured you and helped teach you how to walk.

For the past week you spent on land, you had learned a lot. Learning of the surface dwellers culture and tradition.

However, knowing this wouldn't last, you bid farewell to Newt diving back beneath the waves of the black lake returning to your mer form.

From then on, Newt would visit you occasionally to check in on you. You were the first of a kind. A rare species to uncover. The first to be discovered and founded.

[revasserium]

hurricane

sakura haruka; 1,189 words; fluffy fluff fluff, first love, sakura learns the meaning of friendship, no "y/n", lapslock, mindless fluff tbh

summary: after all, the rain is still just... the rain.

a/n: inspired by clementine von radics poem mouthful of forevers, and also wow sakura is adorable

when he tells you that anger is a language that he’s never needed to learn to know, that loneliness and rejection are dialects as near to him as his hometown used to be, you do not run away.

maybe it’s this place — maybe the blue of the sky from the rooftop garden. maybe, he thinks, there’s something in the water here that makes people kinder, makes them so damn comfortable with splitting open their skins to show him their insides, while asking for nothing in return.

“the summers are hot here,” you say, pressing a cool, dripping bottle of water to his cheek, laughing as he jumps and jerks back, holding it out as he looks from you to the bottle and back again, “make sure to hydrate.”

“why do you care?” he asks, because sometimes, it’s the only way he remembers how to say thank you.

“here, take it,” you say, offering him your handkerchief when he comes back from yet another fight, blood still trickling down the corner of his forehead, “it even matches your hair.”

“don’t need it,” he says, glancing down at the black and white checked piece of cloth, but he doesn’t push you away when you reach out to dab at the drying blood, your hands soft and careful. he never knew hands could be such things, but he supposes there’s always time to learn.

“isn’t that what schools are for?” you say, giggling when he plucks up the courage to tell you one day, when the nights slowly grow longer and the days are clipping own tails, tucking in earlier and earlier. the wind is just on the other side of biting and he’d stared down at his own hands for a solid half minute before reaching out to offer you his scarf — a present from the old lady from the musubi store for putting up her brand new awning.

“y-yeah. guess so,” he says, pulling back to admire his handiwork, the thick knit of the scarf now wrapped snuggly around your shoulders. his blush is more than enough to keep him warm the rest of the way home.

when he lashes out — because its the only way his body remembers how to react to the act of kindness — he sees the hurt flicker like fireflies behind your eyes. but still, you don’t turn away. instead, you sit back, you sigh, and you tell him you’ll wait.

“why?” he asks, because it’s the one question that keeps on echoing through him, like the tolling of a hundred thousand bells, reverberating through him till it’s all he can hear — why?

“because,” you tell him, “sometimes people just need time — and lucky for you, we’ve got a lot of that here. so…” you shrug, sitting back with a sweet, knowing smile, “take your time. that’s what friends do for each other — sometimes, we’re there, but sometimes… we give each other space and we give each other… time.”

time, he thinks, turning the words over his head. how long has it been since he’d had to sleep with one eye open, to always look over his shoulder, to wake up knowing that he’s gotta hit the ground running. how long? what was it that he was running away from?

and sure, he still doesn’t quite have a setting between off and a hundred, but he thinks… maybe with enough time, he can learn. and you teach him.

slowly, he learns the weight of laughter, pure and sweet and joyous, the power that tenderness can bring, the way that sometimes a smile is more potent in a fistfight than as well-aimed punch, that somehow, your hits always land harder when you have a thing worth fighting for. and it should’ve been obvious, but maybe it’s not — that love is a thing of viciousness and vengeance, but also a thing of delicacy and light.

when he holds your hand for the first time, he thinks his entire body might burst at the seams, shattering into a million and one pieces if ever you tried to pull away, but still, there comes a time for letting go.

“i’ll see you tomorrow?” you say, the pair of your teetering on the front steps of your house. behind you, the warm glow of your living room lights paints your outlines in gold. sakura swallows, your fingers still laced in his. he reaches for a reason — any reason — not to let go.

“unless… you wanna come in for dinner?”

he whips around so fast he almost cricks his neck, but he nods before he can psyche himself out, and the next second, you’re tugging him into the house behind you. it’s not the first time he’s met your family, but it is the first time you introduce him as your boyfriend. the word has a strange ring to it, a one-two punch that knocks the breath from his lungs every time you say it.

and it’s only really been a week.

later, in the dim halo of your bedroom lamp, your legs dangling over his as the pair of you read manga on the floor of your room, he reaches out to pull you into his arms.

“i — i’m not a — hm,” he clears his throat and tries again, fighting the urge to bury his face in your shoulder from behind, “i’m not good at… this kind of stuff…” he admits, though your tinkling laughter tells him that yes, you know. still, he forces himself to go on —

“so… uh — if i like… blow up over something random just… like slap me or… or something.”

for a second, you’re quiet, your steady breathing and his much less steady ones the only sounds in the room.

then, you twist slightly to face him, peering up at the profile of his face in the burgeoning dark.

“do you remember that one day — when it rained this summer? and it was so, so nice because it was so freaking hot that whole week?”

“uh… yeah?”

“and then… like three weeks later, there was a hurricane warning, and everyone had to stay home?”

“sure. umemiya made everyone run to put away his stupid planter boxes —”

“but… if you think about it, the rain is still just… rain, right?”

sakura frowns, pausing, “i… guess so.”

“yeah. so… it’s kind of like that with you, i think.” you smile, settling with your back against his chest, his arms around your middle, “the rain is still the rain, whether is light or it’s heavy. and… i’ve always loved the rain.”

sakura makes a soft noise, letting his head fall back against your bedframe.

“it doesn’t matter to me… cause, i think i’d still feel the same about you either way,” you say, turning around once more to fix him with a smile —

“i’d love you if you were summer rain… i’d love you, still, if you were a hurricane.”

[twipsai]

doodles are back with a vengeance. mostly posting these cuz i dont think ill be posting a lot of art for a while cuz im busy and im only getting busier,,, as always, explanations for all under the cut

1, 2, 3 - Victoria doodles! first two were done on 12/30 bc i was coping, and the third one was done much earlier!

4 - classic sonic in a dysphoria hoodie cuz i was feeling dysphoric and wanted to give him one lol

5 - a redraw of something very old. the slug returns

6 - Tails holding his ball brother

7 - Super Tails idea!!!!!!!!! might use this for the Forces rewrite ive been talking about teehee

8 - random Trip doodle i made after the Knuckles's 30th came out

9 - Sonic with a cute scarf that looks like the sonic 1 logo :) nothing else to it

10 - Sonic with dragon ball esque shading, just as a little test

11, 12 - magma doodles with Sonic and Tails :)

13 - an Elise redesign i dont think ive ever posted? if i did um. well shes here again.

14, 15 - oh the sonic frontiers guy drew more cyber corruption stuff who woulda guessed

16 - Shadow in one of Vegeta's outfits from dbs (i think!)

17 - a part of The End's monologue i really liked so i drew it :D its a damn shame that its not in final horizon cuz its probably my favorite monologue ever written like. ever.

[azurem]

I wrote this thing in a single run at 4 am (inkmare)

“Pf. Did you see their faces?”

Nightmare had to stop the smile that raised to his face as the sound of Ink’s snickers filled the empty room, yet he didn't fight the way that Ink leaned onto him, untangling him from his tentacles so Ink could hug his neck. He leaned right back onto his touch, hugging Ink’s waist back. He glanced at the closed door one last time before focusing his attention on Ink’s face, his amusement as infectious as a summer’s cold. “I did.”

“They looked so–” Ink choked a bit, hugging Nightmare’s neck tighter as if the possibility of him falling if he didn’t grab onto him was a real one. He shook his head, a permanent smile embedded onto his face by then, “-confused! Have you ever seen Blue look like that?”

“Never,” Nightmare answered truthfully, his tentacles swaying slowly behind him as Ink hid his face onto his shoulder, his own shaking with the effort to keep his voice down. He patted Ink’s back, sighing contently just from being able to experience the texture of his spine against his fingers. “They don’t suspect a thing, do they? Have they asked anything… suspicious?”

“Pf, no,” Ink said back, his snickers finally calming down a bit as he stopped hugging Nightmare’s neck with both hands, his now free hand reaching down to tug on the tail of his scarf, his gaze gliding through the surface of the cloth before it returned to Nightmare’s eye, the mirth in it softening to the always welcome fondness that Nightmare already got accustomed to. He dropped the tail, letting it fall to its place before fully leaning onto Nightmare once again, a fox-like smile setting into his mouth as he tilted his head, half-lidding his eyes. “Why, worried I’ll tattle on us?”

The idea was so absurd in itself that Nightmare couldn't help but snort, his hold on Ink getting a bit tighter as he resisted the idea of dipping him as if in a dance, just to daze him for a moment, as short as it were. The idea made the corners of his mouth twitch in amusement, but he decided against it just to avoid risking ruining the lighthearted moment. To humor him, he played along, acting in a more serious tone, even if he couldn’t have it on himself to get his smile off his own face yet. “Do I have reasons to be worried?”

“No,” Ink said, but his grin didn’t falter. As Nightmare decided to reward the simple answer with a chaste kiss, their mouths meeting together in a motion that by now felt as natural as breathing, he made a pleased hum that seemed almost relieved in the way it often did when Nightmare’s hand cupped his heated cheek. He sighed as the contact stopped, his eyelights changing in a blink to a soothing green and a pale pink. It seemed that whatever plan he had in mind was forgotten to favor the softer sides of him. “No reason at all.”

“Be creative,” Ink tutted, his eyes turning into half-moons when even the teasing words couldn't bring down the dumb expression on Nightmare’s face. “If you say beautiful again, I’ll get upset.”

Nightmare let out an amused huff, more than satisfied with the fact. He leaned down once more, just to spare Ink from the extra effort that would be to try to get to his level. When the gesture got repaid with Ink nuzzling his cheek with his own, not unlike a cat, he couldn’t even think of fighting the smitten, foolish smile that plagued his expression, a pleased sigh leaving his lips. As one hand wandered up, caressing the top of Ink’s head, he muttered, “You’re just…”

“...pretty cheeky,” Nightmare finished, a moment of hesitation snitching on his initial choice of words. When he caught onto Ink’s expression, he added, his voice light, “I will think of more compliments.”

“Well, you better,” Ink said, frowning. By the way his eyelights remained red-less, Nightmare knew that his anger was nothing but for show. He blew a soft raspberry before looking to the side, glancing at him one last time before closing his eyes. “Really. You’re starting to get pretty two dimensional.”

“Oh, how your words wound me,” Nightmare said without missing a beat, gently swaying from side to side, taking Ink with him. He leaned down to kiss his cheek. “But I guess I deserve them. How can you forgive me, when I have wronged you so?”

Ink seemed to think about it for a second, his frown already gone from the soothing touch, a slightly wobbly smile on his lips. He glanced back at Nightmare, his eyes twin half-moons. “...You’re so ditzy.”

“You have turned me into a fool,” Nightmare said. There would have been a time where the words would have come sharp, almost a weapon themselves, but by now they have mellowed to the point it almost sounds like he’s just saying his name. The thought may have worried him once upon a time, but he had since long grown past that. Nightmare swallowed as he found his throat suddenly dry. “The biggest of fools.”

Ink’s eyes welcomed him in shades of the softest pink, so Nightmare couldn’t help but kiss him again. The way his mouth met his, pliant and eager, was more than enough to make Nightmare feel as if he had been set ablaze in the best of ways, for the flame itself felt like it was cradling him. That time, it was Ink who broke the kiss, panting against his mouth. Nightmare couldn’t help but notice the way his cheeks were flushed, revealing the unique sight of his freckles, resembling the most lovely set of stars. “Nightmare…”

“I love you,” he interrupted. There wasn’t anything special about it, for those words had already been said many, many times — Nightmare himself had used them way before he fell to the realization that he could love the way he does — but Ink stilled, as if he was stricken. The words felt somewhat too big yet too small as he released them to the wind, but Nightmare already got used to the knowledge that they may always feel that way. As such, he insisted on them, unable to do anything else, “I love you.”

Ink blinked, his eyes widened. He was about to say something, maybe the same thing, but Nightmare stopped him with a second kiss, as short as a passing thought. When they separated, Ink pulled back in just as quickly as it was over, less graceful as they couldn’t keep down the twin smiles off their faces.

(It wasn’t hard to convince their teams that his negotiation attempt had went well, but not well enough to avoid them both ending up more disheveled than before they left.)

[merlucide]

SEA’S SECRET 3⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Notes: .. sorry for how long this took 🫠 I started writing then I stopped, then I started, then I stopped, I started— also wrote the majority of this sleepy so sorry if it’s wonky😭🙏

pairings: merman!chigiri x mayor’s daughter!reader

wc: 1.9k

warnings: reader is fem, thalassophobia(?)

chpt: 1 2 3

You had been visiting the merman almost every day since the day you two met. Over the weeks, you’d grown to know him, and he’d grown to know you. You’d share stories about your lives—your hopes and dreams, the mundane tasks of both of your lives, and so on. Each encounter was a revelation, a dance of curiosity and laughter, deepening the bond that had formed between you.

Your regular meeting spot remained by the cliffs, but you always ventured a bit further down the beach, away from prying eyes and the bustle of town. The soft whispers of the waves greeted you as you made your way to the secluded cove. Today, you carried a wicker basket, its woven fibers tightly bound with a little blue ribbon tied on the side.

As you approached the meeting space, you scanned the shimmering sea for his signature raspberry hair. Just as you were about to settle onto the rocks, his head popped out of the water, and a grin spread across your face.

“You’re late,” Hyoma remarked, feigning indignation, though the gleam in his eyes betrayed his playful demeanor.

You scoffed, a smile dancing on your lips. “Oh, am I? Ha, my sincerest apologies, my good sir.” You lifted the flap of the basket and pulled out a piece of fairly warm bread, presenting it like a prized treasure.“I hope this can excuse my tardiness,” you said warmly, placing the basket down and stepping into the cool water, your loose dress swirling around your legs.

Hyoma inched closer, propping himself up on the sandy shore, half in and half out of the water. He took the bread, inspecting it with an air of curiosity. “What is this? You eat it?” he asked, tapping the surface of the crusty loaf.

“Mhm! I made it myself—hope it’s still warm.” You boasted, pride swelling in your chest as you watched him take in the aroma of your creation.

He took a cautious bite, his sharp teeth sinking into the crisp yet soft dough. Instantly, his eyes widened, and his fins expanded in delight. 

“Glad you like it,” you laughed, watching him eagerly take another bite, bits of bread clinging to his cheeks.

“Do oo havph moor?” Hyoma snaps his head to you, his slitted pupils widening and cheeks puffed out as he spoke. You couldn’t help but beam at the sight.

“Why, yes, I do! But don’t eat it too fast; it’ll upset your stomach if you gobble it down,” you replied, pulling out a second loaf from your basket.

As you stood there, watching him scarf down your bread, you studied the way his fins perked up after every bite, how his gills flared in and out with each breath. his dazzling tail swayed against the gentle waves, and his hair was perfectly messy. If you looked close enough you would see tiny shells tucked away in his braid. 

“Thanks for the bread,” Hyoma said, rinsing his hands in the sea. “I don’t have anything to give you in return..”

“Ah, it’s no worries! I don’t need anything, really; I’m just glad you like my bread,” you replied, a warm smile lighting up your face.

“Tomorrow I’ll bring you something,” he promised, his gaze locking onto your e/c eyes, sincerity shimmering in the depths of his slitted pupils.

You smiled, shaking your head. “Alright then, thank you.”

Hyoma grinned, his demeanor brightening as he slid back into the sea. “Bring more bread.”

You chuckled and nodded, watching him disappear beneath the waves, the water rippling gently in his wake.

The next day, you were determined to make an even more delicious bread than before, it would be the perfect loaf of bread. As you kneaded the dough, your hands working rhythmically, you could almost picture his delighted expression when he tasted your creation again.

“Goodness, Miss L/N, you’re making more bread? The two loaves you made yesterday weren’t enough?” Aya remarked softly, a hint of mischief in her tone as she wiped her hands on a dishcloth.

“A-Ah well, I believe I’ve perfected my recipe and wanted to try again,” you replied, rolling the dough against your palms with care.

Aya smiled, her warmth radiating through the kitchen. “Your bread is just fine already, miss. Your husband will most definitely love the meals you’ll make.”

Ah, husband. The word echoed in your mind. “Haha… yes, I’d hope he would.” Even with Aya, you couldn’t escape the pressure of being wed. The expectations hung like a heavy cloud over your head.

Noticing the change in your mood, Aya softly bowed her head. “Ah, forgive me for mentioning that, Miss. You really mustn’t worry too much about that. You still have plenty of time before you are to find a husband,” she reassured you, hoping to ease your mind.

You have confided in Aya, how that isn’t what you want, and that you don’t even know what you want! She does her best to console you, but she doesn’t entirely understand. To Aya, it seemed like a luxury to have handsome, wealthy men lining up for your hand, but for you, it felt absolutely suffocating.

Hours passed, and finally, with a larger loaf nestled securely in your basket, you made your way back to the cliffs. As you sat down on one of the sun-warmed rocks, fiddling with the ribbon tied around the basket, you couldn’t help but notice he was a bit late this time. Normally, when you two met, he’d be waiting under the waves for you.

Just as you were beginning to worry, ripples formed closer to you, and there he was. Hyoma swam over, crawling up the beach just enough to stay halfway in the water. He held a brown sack in his hands, a soft expression on his face.

“Oh? What’s this?” you asked, gesturing to his bag with your eyes.

“I told you I was going to give you a gift in return for your bread—and you brought more, right?” he confirms, tone becoming more serious.

You tapped your basket’s side and murmured a soft ‘yes’ in response, earning a joyful flick of his fins.

“Now, I wasn’t sure what to give you… but I hope this will suffice,” Hyoma said, his voice tinged with nervousness. He pulled out a necklace from his sack, a string of pearls and smaller shells adorned with small starfish, and a sand dollar in the middle. It was so pretty, so dramatic, and so different. Out of all the gold and silver jewelry you had been given from your parents and suitors, this was the most beautiful of them all.

“Mermaids my age wear necklaces like these; I guess they’re pretty popular,” he said shyly, his gaze lowering. “So if it doesn’t meet your standards— I wasn’t sure what would be a good gift for your bread—”

“It’s perfect,” you interrupted, holding the necklace delicately, your fingers grazing over the divots of the sand dollar. “It’s absolutely beautiful-  Goodness, Hyoma, this is gorgeous!”

He could feel his cheeks warming under your admiration. “I-I’m glad… I helped make it.”

You looked at him, eyes wide with surprise. “You made this?”

His fins opened wider, and he darted his eyes around nervously. “Well, I mean— yes, I guess. Not all of it; I just found the shells or whatever. My friend actually made the necklace.”

(He’s had this necklace for a while, just wasn’t sure if he should give it two you for not) don’t alter this !!

You beamed at him. “Thank you, I love it.” You smiled warmly, putting the necklace on.

“Now give me the bread,” he said, his expression shifting to serious.

You laughed, pulling the loaf from your basket handing it to him, which he eagerly accepted.

Hyoma’s fins perked up, “Oh- I’ve told you before I like to collect human things that have sunk—“ he said dumping his brown sack onto the shore, and a variety of trinkets spilled out.

“Can you tell me what they are?” Hyoma asked, his curiosity piqued as he eyed the assortment.

You focused on the items, examining the ordinary yet intriguing objects. “This is a pocket watch, or a clock. You can tell the time with it, but this one is broken from getting wet,” you explained, closing the lid of the watch with a soft laugh.

“I thought maybe it was part of a lady’s necklace or something,” Hyoma murmured, munching on his bread.

As you went over the other items, you pointed out coins, compasses, and various bits of metal, each with its own story and history.

“This is the last one,” he said, handing you a small metal cylinder covered in rust with tiny bumps along its surface. It took you a second to realize what it was—it was the inside of a music box, and it looked like it had seen better days.

You rinsed it off in the water, trying to free it from the sand stuck between the gears. “I don’t have a clue what that is, to be honest,” Hyoma stated, eyeing the metal contraption with intrigue.

After scratching off some rust and turning the crank, a rough but lovely tune played into the air.

Hyoma’s eyes expanded, and his fins flared as he stared at your hands in awe. You finished the tune and handed it to him, who took his turn first playing with it. The rusty-yet delicate notes echoed softly in the air, mixing with the gentle sound of waves lapping at the shore.

“I’m surprised it even works,” you smiled, watching Hyoma spin the shaft. 

He played around with it, the sweet melody filling the space around you. You found yourself playing with the shells on your necklace, lost in the moment. The music floated in the air, weaving a spell of comfort and connection between you.

But alas, all good things must come to an end. As the sun began to dip below the horizon, Hyoma gathered his belongings and shuffled back into the soft waves. You waved goodbye, promising to see him soon.

Hyoma swam away from the cliffs, diving deeper into the clear sea. His shimmering scales caught the last remnants of moonlight filtering through the water.

After some time, he finally made it back to where he called home. Surrounded by coral and sea life in every direction, Hyoma felt a sense of belonging, yet his heart tugged toward the surface. Most mermaids stayed in groups and traveled together, which made Hyoma a bit of an odd one out. He had a ‘group’ but was more independent, more curious of what was above the surface. 

All mermaids are curious, no doubt, but most ignore their curiosity out of fear of being caught. No one knows about Hyoma’s trips to the surface, not his friends or family, and he intends to keep it that way. Well, intended. 

As he entered his hidden cave surrounded by seaweed and clams, he dumped out his sack, placing his trinkets back with the others. But he didn’t expect to be met with two mermen floating in the entrance.

“You’ve been going to the surface this whole time?!” A blue-haired merman exclaimed, absolutely dumbfounded.

“Ooohoohooh~ You’re breaking the rules, y’know~,” The other friend giggled, his yellow eyes sparkling mischievously.

Well, the cats out the bag now.

pt 4 (not here yet!)

taglist: @gigiiiiislife @sharkissm @luvingshidou @kurona-theshark@soleilonthesun @duckydee-0 @someprettyname @thebestsetter @ih8tegeography @rinitoshisgirl @lobster3713 @thebestsetter

help I wasn’t sure how to end this 😭 sorry if this didn’t meet ur expectations dawgs 💔

Made Oct 5th 2024

[devildomwriter]

Satan Birthday Special 100 Fun Facts

1. Satan was born from a combination of Lucifer’s intense wrath and him tearing off his wings, this gave Satan flesh for a body

2. Physically, Satan is the youngest but he is ranked fourth as he is fourth strongest of the seven brothers

3. Satan often fears he is nothing but a lesser copy of Lucifer

4. Satan’s wrath was so out of control after his birth his brothers did anything they could to stop his rages, including tying him in chains and stuffing him in a locker, knocking him out, or holding him underwater until he passed out

5. When Satan discovered cats he burst into Levi’s room demanding to know more about this

6. Satan believes Leviathan is mature in the way he focuses on other people’s opinions

7. Satan has always been a demon and accepting wrath as part of who he was so he did not struggle with his sin like his brothers did

8. Satan treasures the first things his brothers ever gave him

9. Satan’s tail is spiky and you can be injured touching it if you aren’t careful

10. Satan gets angriest over petty inconveniences

11. Simeon believes that Satan always only wearing one sleeve of his jackets is his way of rebelling

12. Satan has a tendency to overthink things

13. Satan does his best to avoid arguing with his brothers even when they annoy him

14. Satan is compared to a cat by his brothers due to his tendency to show up in completely random places when you least expect

15. Satan has connections in almost every industry as he’s easily able to socialize and make friends

16. Satan claims his books are organized in a way he understands

17. Once Satan’s books collapsed on him and he stayed there for several days relaxing

18. Satan enjoys the fine arts and likes going to art museums

19. Satan enjoys theatre and the opera

20. Satan easily gets his hands on rare and cursed objects to the point it impresses Lucifer

21. Satan has successfully cursed Lucifer several times. The worst of them being when he transferred his pain from Solomon’s cooking to Lucifer.

22. Satan originally looks down on manga but changes his mind after reading a bunch of manga Levi switched out in his room as a prank

23. Satan loves watching dramas and mysteries, especially Mid-Fall Murders

24. Due to watching crime shows regularly Satan believed that when dining in the human world you tell the waitress you’d like “the usual” and they’ll know what you mean

25. Although originally Satan complains he’s never beat Diavolo in chess, it’s implied he finally beats him in season 3

26. Satan has a major inferiority complex when it comes to Lucifer which causes him to often doubt himself

27. Satan is subscribed to Monthly Devil Architect’s Digest

28. Satan was once cursed to see everything as cats, he wasn’t the least bit bothered

29. Satan gifted Lucifer a scarf that was cursed to grow eternally

30. Satan doesn’t seem to realize how terrifying his anger is when he is visibly confused as to why his brothers are hiding

31. Satan has hoarded cats in the past and is no longer allowed to have any

32. Satan feeds a local cat he has named Sir Cat

33. Satan gives MC instructions on feeding many of the cats who come by serenity manor

34. When attempting to turn Simeon’s cafe into a cat cafe he “borrowed” a bunch of cats from witches. He was distressed when they were all returned to their owners.

35. Satan once fell asleep with a cat in public and ended up covered in Hell Zakura petals. Solomon thought it was cute.

36. Satan cursed a pizza deliverer for putting pineapple on their pizza

37. Satan desires to be on the receiving end of a loving headbutt by a cat in full force

38. Satan checks cat blogs before he goes to bed as they give him energy for the next day

39. Satan has to be told to stop using cat stickies as he puts them everywhere

40. Satan covered his and Belphegor’s laptops in cat stickers

41. Satan enjoys classical music, symphonies, and Ska music

42. Satan prefers food chunkier than smooth because it has more bite to it

43. Satan enjoys the bitterness of Dark chocolate

44. Satan has said his type is someone he can have a mutual understanding with when it comes to anger

45. Satan has had things thrown at his head multiple times in the game, some of these items include a pillow, a piece of trash, and a pile of pancakes

46. Satan hates baby talk, more specifically when Asmodeus uses it

47. Satan has inherited some of Lucifer’s memories and emotions

48. When Satan was cursed to stay close to Lucifer he would just stare and growl at Lucifer from the corner of the room

49. Satan’s antagonistic behavior towards Lucifer is somewhat compulsive as even he wishes he didn’t dedicate so much time to Lucifer but cannot stop himself

50. Satan let’s Belphegor sleep on his lap even though it annoys him

51. Satan learned how to read ancient human text from Solomon

52. Satan considers Mephistopheles an ally since they both dislike Lucifer

53. In a love survey on B’s Log Satan says he wants to “bind and monopolize” his lover and is the active one pursuing love

54. Satan cherishes relationship anniversaries and special dates of remembrance

55. In a relationship with obstacles, Satan chooses to face the difficulties with passion

56. When it comes to a lover, Satan said he would get jealous easily

57. Satan originally did not understand humans and assumed they’d all be fine receiving expensive items and gems as gifts and was angry when MC did not

58. Satan has ranked his favorite cat positions as stalk-straight tail, slow blink, making biscuits, head butting, and bellyflops

59. Satan secretly dislikes Green Peas

60. Satan is annoyed by the RAD Newpsaper Club account and has the notifications for it turned off

61. Satan says he tends to sleep on his stomach to avoid being hit in the face when his books randomly come avalanching down on him

62. Satan starts all his baths by washing his left arm

63. Satan’s daily activity is petting a cat

64. Satan’s dream is to have a cat

65. On sleepless nights, Satan calls MC because he finds their voice soothing

66. Satan’s motto is “Wisdom is the treasure of all generations.”

67. Satan’s rage emits so much energy it’s too much for humans to handle and can shake buildings and break things without getting near them

68. Satan sends cursed chain mail to Lucifer daily

69. When Mammon could only speak cat, Satan was called to help and he spent the day happily playing with cat toys with Mammon

70. Satan became enraged with Raphael when he was compared to Lucifer

71. Satan is very knowledgeable when it comes to the constellations and the specific stars among them

72. Satan believes Easter is the perfect excuse to throw eggs at Lucifer

73. Satan looks forward to fall as he believes it’s the best season for reading

74. Satan has trouble eating something if it looks like a cat

75. Satan always has a bag of cat treats with him wherever he goes

76. Satan seems to remember exactly where he left off in a book when he falls asleep reading. In an interview with B’s Log he says “Yesterday I was in the mood for The Complete Book of Cat's Paws, but I fell asleep on the Havana Brown page, around line no. 27.”

77. Satan sometimes hums the theme song to mid fall murders

78. Satan’s compliments often sound more like insults

79. Satan originally took Levi to be a nobody with no powers.

80. Satan once used Diavolo as a hostage

81. When Satan wanted to get MC a gift he offered to kill someone for them

82. Satan enjoys a railroad building mobile app

83. In the baseball game in the anime, Satan’s team lost 0 to 666 but Satan still claims it’s the game where he trumped Lucifer

84. Satan owns a book that can enter the memories of whoever first opens it

85. Satan built a life like snow sculpture of Lucifer out of spite, knowing Lucifer would feel uncomfortable

86. Satan once decorated the backyard with cat towers hoping it’d become a cat colony

87. Satan is the secretary of the RAD student council

88. Satan is the one who introduced the idea of second-hand/used bookstores to the Devildom.

89. Satan has a collection of priceless jewels that are rare in both the human world and Devildom. It’s not stated how he got his hands on them but he is alluded to being very wealthy by Leviathan

90. Believing they were lost deep in the forest, Satan initiated sex with MC but they were immediately after found by Beelzebub

91. Satan said if he was in a horror movie he’d be the silent killer “helping” the detectives and frame Lucifer for all the murders

92. Satan once got into a fight with Beelzebub over who liked Devilcat most

93. Satan once went to a riddle event with Solomon and MC

94. Satan bribed Barbatos with rare tea to let him go to the human world alone

95. In an interview with B’s Log he said his everyday small happiness is gaining new knowledge

96. Something Satan believes is absolutely not allowed in front of him is disrespecting cats and is quoted saying “Dare to make disrespectful remarks about cats in front of me. I’ll **** and **** your ****.” — B’s log

97. Satan’s three rules for his daily life are — Read books, play with cats, and make time for yourself

98. When asked if he prefers mature or child-like people, he states he prefers mature people and then immediately references Simeon

99. Satan is skilled with cooking stews and enjoys working with the variety of spices and herbs Barbatos gives him

100. Satan believes his composure makes him “cool” and that he only “very, very occasionally” loses his temper

[sleighhethereal]

Shit, shit, shit!

Macaque ran through the city, frantically looking through alleys and accidentally bumping into a few strangers- some of few who yelled at him, but he didn't care.

He had to find you.

He didn't know why he didn't just use his ability to shadow himself to where you were. Maybe it was because he'd gotten used to not using them around you.

After a whole hour, he checked the spot he least expected you to be in.

The mountain where he betrayed MK.

...Were you secretly still hating him for that?

He gulped and approached your crouched figure, standing beside you. He knew you knew he was there.

"...Can I sit here?"

Your nod was all he needed.

Macaque sat down next to you, and there was silence.

Then, you spoke. "I thought you trusted me."

Macaque instantly perked at that, waving his hands side to side in a panic. "I do, I do! You're one of the few people, I swear!"

"Then why were you so distant this past weeks?"

He paused, and you frowned.

"You refuse to talk to me about it. I know we made those boundaries, but you just seemed so deflated and depressed, I can't just stand by and watch you be like that." You inhaled sharply, "I wanted to see you atleast smile today, but—"

"I yelled at you." Macaque finished for you, turned his head away.

You stared at him, noticing how his tail curled. He was distancing again.

"...Does this have something to do with MK? Wukong?"

Macaque sighed and placed a fist to his heart as a way to calm himself. "Alright, alright... so, um.." He pulled at his scarf and reached for a white piece of paper before handing it to you.

You took it, staring at the faces of Wukong and Macaque. It was them from the past, for sure, Wukong was making a goofy face, probably the one who took the picture while Macaque was caught rolling his eyes.

You flipped it and found the date. The date was today.

"Today is the day I died."

You looked up to see him.

"The day me and Monkey King fought. You know the story..." Macaque mumbled as he played with his black hair, before raising a finger. "Of course, this isn't an excuse for me yelling at you, I just.." He trailed off when he turned to you.

Your eyes were wide, soft tears began to brim those gorgeous eyes he loved so much. It made Macaque instantly begin to sniffle, looking away.

"I-I didn't want to bring it up." He continued, "He and I just... fuck, he was my best friend. For so many years, and it's just gone, it always blows my mind. I just... I sometimes wish I can share a peach with him again, and just talk... fuck.."

You moved close for a hug, and he returned it, burying his face into your neck as he cried. You cried with him.

"I miss him, [Y/N]..."

"I'm so sorry, Macaque.."

[brokenpieces-72]

Older arctic fox reader, a good friend of Nikolai's, helps the 141 with a mission in Russian territory, and meeting our little wendigo as well.

Do what you want with this.

The reader is male, since I don’t usually do male readers. I’m definitely not imagining this guy looking like the anime KFC guy with fox ears and a bomber jacket…definitely not. Also lets access a different branch of the military with Special Investigations unit.

Fäks

You and Nik go back, and pretty far back. You served together in Russia and when he started working more “freelance” you got him whatever he needed to get whatever he needed. How did you two meet well funny story…he flirted with you. In his defence this was some time ago. Nik wasn't exactly sober either. Your hair was longer then and your body shape was slimmer than most. You’d been called beautiful by more than a few men before they noticed you were male. You started hitting on him back to see if he would pick up on your masculinity, before just asking Nik if he had figured it out yet. Nikolai saying you were very foxy for man is what cemented your relationship.

Nik didn’t tell you everything, but he kept in touch even after you parted ways. When a mission came up, and your commanding officer told you to stand down or to let it go, you reached out to Nik. Off the record wasn't uncommon for you, to the point you'd acquired a few safehouses for your own safety. You contacted Nik to see if you could get some help with your business trip, and he could deliver. When he told you the hybrids he could invite to your vacation home, your tail flicked. A wendigo, a dragon, a werewolf. You had to keep the list a little short but Nik wasn't about to just chauffer.

You stood outside the small base as the chopper landed, a smile on your face, under your scarf. Ice flecks whipped up around you, forcing you to raise your arm to protect your eyes. You didn’t approach until the rotors stopped. The rest shuffled out while Nik wasted no time coming to greet you.

“My brother.” Nik said, clasping your hand and providing a bear hug, which you return with a grin.

“Good to see you again comrade. This must be your friends.” You said, turning your attention to the newcomers.

“Captain.” Nikolai said, inviting Price over. “Meet Fäks. A good friend of mine.”

The dragon hybrid came over and shook your hand. He was bloody big, his horns making it difficult to keep a beanie on his head. You smiled, regardless of being a little intimidated.

“Welcome to Russia captain. It’s a pleasure.” You says.

“Pleasure is mine, Private Fäks.” Price said, nodding. All business this one. You were introduced to each one as friends. If there was a human who could bring hybrids together, it was Nik. Sure any human could arrange a meeting but Nik was special, looking past the hybrid while showing respect to it as well. As the soldiers filed out you noted each one. Gaz came up behind Price, shaking your hand in respect. Another human, Rudy greeted you next before going with Gaz towards the safe house. The final two exited the helicopter. A werewolf with his tail sticking out, saying to call him Soap. Behind him was a smaller soldier, with antlers and rabbit ears, calling herself Spirit. As the wolf and jackelope hurried inside, you took note of how Spirit was tagging along after Soap.

“Recruiting rather young.” You commented. Price nodded, his expression tells you it wasn't exactly his idea.

"Those two are a vision in the field." Price assured you. You looked forward to it.

Once inside and rooms sorted you wandered about, being as good of a host as you could. Nik would be sticking around to assist with extraction for this mission. You hadn’t gotten a chance to see the men with their jackets, scarves and toques off. The next day would be plenty of planning and decision making, figuring out how to break into a facility that was extracting various illegal materials and bi products from hybrids. This was a little personal for you, as you’d nearly had your own tail cut off or someone shave it for some sick mink.

There is a small lounge that could pass as a living room and you see the men have made themselves at home. You smiled reclining in a seat and immediately being asked by the harpy, about how you and Nik met. Nik loudly groaned, and buried his face in his hands, as you leaned forward ready to embarrass the shit out of him. Kyle already had a grin on his face.

“I was minding my own business whe-how old are you?” You said, interrupting yourself when Spirit walked in. She had a book in her hands, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

“Uh…haven’t looked.” Spirit said. You looked at Nik.

“Not my idea.” Nik said shrugging.

“Apologies malen'kiy. Not used to such a young soldier.” You said. Didn’t mean to startle her.

“Come in Spirit, you’ll want to hear this story.” Gaz called to her. Spirit’s eyes went from wide to bright as she hurried to sit with Kyle. It’s cute how cozy she looked, with Gaz letting her snuggle up. Reminded you of someone else. You needed to focus on what was before you. Mission first, personal stuff later.

“Where was I…right I had a drink. Was enjoying some water, when Nik comes up and sits down like any old stranger.” You continued.

Originally Nik sent you a few files for the mission, since you would be leading it. Turns out he neglected to tell you what the wendigo was supposed to be. You were expecting a lanky humanoid, and when you were planning the mission that image remained.

“Wall here is pretty weak. I can find a hole nearby I’m sure.” You suggested when going over the plans. You looked up at Soap. “Unless a werewolf can?”

“I could do it.” Spirit suggested. “Wait, how much do I need to break it?”

You stood there for a moment, and looked up at the team. None of them said anything. The little jackalope just gave an expectant look. Were you missing something? You decided to take her at her word, but breaking the wall wasn't exactly what you were going for.

“On the other side is a lab. Not sure what’s in it but based on some of the cargo and shipments I’ve seen going in and out there’s a chance of explosives.” You continued.

“Door access might be easier.” Price suggested. Spirit looked a little disappointed.

“My thoughts as well.” You said.

“So breaking in from the outside is a no go?” Kyle asked. Certainly seemed more risky. So far breaking in with what access points you could reach would be more complicated with others but you couldn’t do this mission alone.

“I hate to suggest it, but could we slip in undetected?” Price asked. You considered that but didn’t like the idea.

“It would involve cages, some good acting, and a prayer.” You said. “Nik could drive a vehicle in with us in the back as cargo but the downside is we would need to either be drugged or knocked out. They won’t take “subjects” that are too active, and don’t want anyone knowing their way around in or out of the facility. Every stake out, all I could hear was breathing, no calls or cries. Overheard some drivers talkings about it with the guards.”

“Can we play dead?” Spirit suggested before looking at Soap. “No offence.”

Kyle snickered at Soap’s rolling eyes. You continued, “No, they test to ensure the hybrids are drugged. Guards will enter the truck for inspection before any of them go through.”

The young soldier seemed to shift from foot to foot. You could hear her heart picking up. When Soap put an arm over her shoulders she seemed to relax. The thought of cages made you a little uneasy as well, but it was easiest way.

“I don’t mean to devalue anyone, I have great respect for your work truly, but is bringing someone so young along a good idea?” You asked aloud.

“I’ll be fine.” Spirit said. You could hear her let out a huff, eyes firmly on the map. A strong malen’kiy.

Day before the mission you found yourself in the living space again, with Spirit sitting and drawing in her sketchbook. You had brought a sort of peace offering in the form of a muffin. She accepted it politely.

“Apologies for any offence I may have given you. It was not my intention.” You said. Spirit looked up a friendly expression on her face.

“I wasn’t offended.” Spirit said. You nodded and sat down, eyeing what she was working on. An arctic fox.

“Nik tells me you are a part of a program?” You asked. She nodded but fidgeted a bit. “Bad memories?”

“A bit.” She said, more focused on the sketch. You smiled.

“Do you need me to pose?” You teased. She looked at you smiling and shaking her head.

“I noticed you looking uneasy. While we were briefing.” You asked. When cages were brought up Spirit seemed to shift from foot to foot. Rudy would be a driver, along with Nikolai. You, Spirit, Price and Soap would be in cages and drugged. Gaz would provide overwatch. “If you don’t feel comfortable, you could always go in a cage with someone else, if it makes you feel safe.”

“You’re sure the drugs will be a lower dose?” She asked. You checked and double checked almost every hour, the doses were specific and precise, so they’d wake when they needed to, and wouldn’t be out any longer. You put a hand over your heart looking the young hybrid in the eyes.

“On my honour."

The truck is chilly but cold doesn’t bother you, nor does it bother Soap. Spirit had opted for staying in the same cage as Price who seemed a little chilly. Before the doses were administered, she curled up closer. Spirit insisted on having her poncho. Soap was also adamant on this.

“You have a little comrade captain.” You commented. Price nodded while Spirit gave a proud and smug look.

“Always.” Price said, his wing covering Spirit. You hear a small laugh, and quiet words from Price. Gaz went to each of you, injecting the dose. It would put you all to sleep. When you woke it was go time. You and Soap would be in one part of the lab, while Spirit and Price would be in another. Horns and antlers were valuable, as were scales. Furs had value but only so much. You notice Spirit getting nervous, can hear her breathing becoming unsteady. Price was there to keep her calm.

“You got this milan’kiy.” You told her. The needle goes in, she winced and then leaned back against Price. Price adjusted her to keep her from falling before Nik injected him. Soap was fidgeting in his own box as Rudy put the needle in him next.

Then it was your turn…and you…fall……asleep.

When you awoke you were close by to Soap who was already assessing the cage. He was focused, and ready. There was an extraction team on the way, but getting the other hybrids to safety was top priority. You started to pick the lock when you heard the horrible screech of bending metal. Soap was half shifted.

“That works.” You said and hurried out leading him to some more cages to assess the situation and get some files. Import records, profiles, transactions, whatever you could do to get to the root. You lift blankets on cages to check and see plenty of younger hybrids. The program was about to have a long week. Soap was getting the security system turned off. You were a “late shipment” which meant you had some time. No one would come to assess you for testing or anything like that which made for a perfect opportunity to get as many out as you could.

“How are those cameras?” You asked.

“What cameras?” Soap responded. You gave him a chuckle as he joined you, peeking under a blanket. Another fox hybrid, shivering, and looking newly shaved. Seeing soap, fhe fox cowered. Soap backed off, as you hushed the young kid.

“Не волнуйся. Мы здесь, чтобы помочь вам. Просто держись крепче.” You said. The kid nodded, eyes a little brighter. The blanket goes back down, and you stand up.

“Aye, Fäks. Found some shipments.” Soap called over. You came up to him, seeing the crates with smaller containers. The labels were going to a few high end companies. Disgusting, all of it. There was a barking sound. The two of them turned and saw the white Cadejo. Rudy had returned, which meant the guards wouldn’t be an issue. Soap got to the door and knocked, getting a response from Rudy immediately and letting him in.

"Find everything?" He asked.

"Downloading now." You informed him seeing the loading bar come up. Of course their tech was old and slow.

"Nikolai is on the other end." Rudy mentioned standing next to you, to see the progress himself.

"How is fairing?" You asked. There was a loud bang which told you something wasn't going right.

"Soap, Rudy, stay here." You instructed immediately. If there was one thing you didn't like it was sitting and waiting, and right now there was a chance a good friend of yours was in danger. You don't wait for their response as you leave the room and see a couple guys in lab coats rushing out. You drew a knife from your boot, shanking them both with quick and simple agility. You can hear odd noises and when you get the chance to look inside, you see Spirit's wendigo form, roaring and growling at whatever guards decided to poke her with a stick. Or cattle prod. Clearly they'd taken her out of the cage, intending to do some last minute assessment or maybe to get her antlers off. Price was taking out any guards that tried to go for him while Spirit tried clawing at them. Nik still had a weapon from his disguise, firing from whatever cover he could find from the tables and empty cages.

You don't hesitate to get more primtive, your blade doing only so much when it comes to armoured gear. You claw and bite, yes you have teeth, and you aren't afraid to dive into smaller space to remove anyone wanting to use the element of surprise. Thankfully, the fighting doesn't last long and you don't have too much blood in your mouth.

"Anyone broken?" Price called, taking a moment to catch his breath.

"Good here." You said.

"Fine here captain." Nik called, as you gave him a hand up.

Spirit made a cooing sound, shuffling from foot to foot. You approached her and she looked down at you tilting her head. A jackelope wendigo hybrid. Certainly a new one. Seeing the scraps of her clothes, you understand why she wore the poncho. Spirit shifted back to her more human state, retrieving a weapon from one of the guards. Still seemed a little shaken, but ready and at attention.

"Files should be finishing up. We have plenty of hybrids to extract." You said.

"Let get to it." Price said.

Plenty of reports and paperwork to write and sign for this side mission. The hybrids were either put into a program like Spirit's or were waiting for their family to retrieve them. You checked up on Nikolai, and as always he was still holding strong. After completing your last signature for the day, you got up to go find him. Knowing him, he'd likely have a drink, and you could use one.

"Figured you'd need one." Nik said, offering you a poured glass. As always, he'd thought of everything. You took off your jacket, letting it rest on your shoulders as you sat with him at the table. "Long day."

"Indeed." You said taking a long sip. The two of you nursed your glasses.

"How are you?" Nik asked you.

"That's your best pick-up line?" You asked, recalling the night you two had met. Nik laughed. "I'll be fine."

"You see your little one at all these days?" He asked.

"I avoid it." You admitted. Nik shook his head, pouring you another.

"You should see them. Wait a little, but go see them." Nik said. You could never turn him down. Even when you two first met. He was right though. You should go see your little one. Spirit had reminded you of them, and they deserved to have you around even if you didn't think so.

"I will. They're still reading, and I've started doing it too. Plenty to talk about I'm sure." You said. Nik nodded, and you spent the rest of the evening, catching up, inviting the others to join, and remembering the good times.

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends @thriving-n-jiving

[qin-qin16]

cw.: Alphys x Reader, gn!reader, fluff, established relationship, reader is kinda flirty, its short but its cute… 

note: @twinribbonz @toffeebrews and I guess @vanglaggle?? The Alphys’s defenders

Reptiles are cold-blooded, a fact widely known across the world. Their scaly bodies aren’t made for freezing environments, especially when covered by a thick layer of snow – what cold-blooded creature would be foolish enough to live in a place its body wasn’t naturally built to survive in?

Apparently, your monster girlfriend.

"If you wanted to see me so badly, you could’ve just called, sweetie." You adjust the scarf around Alphys’ short neck, covering as much of her little yellowish scales as possible. "I don’t want to lose my girlfriend to hypothermia." As worried as you were, you couldn't help but let a hint of teasing slip into your voice, finishing with a smug smile as your face neared hers.

As expected, the lizard began to stutter — and if you were in a more cozy place, her stammering would probably be paired with a warm orange blush on her cheeks, shining through her yellow scales.

"I-I just came to r-return the books you le-lent me!" She answered quickly, her little eyes darting everywhere but your face. You didn't mind the lack of eye contact, not when your gaze was busy admiring the figure in front of you.

Alphys was bundled up from head to toe, with a fluffy hat hiding part of her natural crown and layers of clothing keeping her warm against the cold — her plump tail even wrapped in a special sock covered in white polka dots. In her hands, she held a small stack of books — one of them with a slightly dented cover, you noticed.

Perfect. Your hands moved from the scarf down to the collar of her coat, adjusting the edges to protect her little neck better — who were you kidding? Your fingers merely played with the fabric between them as your gaze drifted over her yellow face (or what was visible behind those round glasses).

"Yeah?" It slips out softly from your mouth as you feel your smile soften. "Thanks, sweetheart, but next time, just call me. I'll come wherever you are, okay?" You don’t think twice before giving her snout a gentle squeeze with your fingers, watching her let out a small, surprised squeak.

"You know I hate it when you do that..." Alphys retorts, scratching her snout, but you can’t help but notice the not-so-subtle wag of her tail.

"No, you don’t hate it." You take the books from her covered hands, noticing that the tips of her gloves were made from a tougher fabric — likely to prevent them from tearing due to her claws, which, even though rounded, still did quite a bit of damage. "C’mon, get inside. We can finish that anime we started last week." The moment you mentioned it, Alphys’ face lit up, her little eyes practically shining like tiny stars.

Truly perfect.

[burntsecrets]

Winter's Bite

Pairing: Spike x Reader Word Count: 1280 Prompt: @fluff-cember Day 7: condensed breath Summary: On patrol during a cold winter night, Spike keeps teasing you about your visible breath in the icy air, calling you a “bloody dragon.”  Warnings: mild suggestive themes, banter, and some violence typical of Buffyverse patrols (vampires/demons).

The cemetery is eerily quiet under the full moon, the kind of silence that makes you question every shadow. The chill bites at your cheeks as you walk the winding path, your breath curling into the icy air like tendrils of smoke. Adjusting your grip on the stake in your hand, you glance around, senses sharp for any sign of movement.

Behind you, a familiar voice cuts through the stillness.

"Careful there, love. With all that huffing and puffing, you’re liable to start a forest fire."

You glance back to see Spike leaning casually against a headstone, his leather duster flaring slightly in the breeze. Even in the dim light, his pale hair gleams like a beacon, and his trademark smirk is firmly in place.

"Really?" you say, rolling your eyes. "This is how you’re helping me patrol? By making fun of my breath?"

"Why not?" he replies, falling into step beside you. "It’s bloody freezing out here, and you’re the only thing keeping it interesting. Besides," he adds, with that infuriating grin of his, "you look quite fetching as a dragon."

You tug your scarf tighter around your neck, trying to ignore him. "It’s called being human, Spike. You should try it sometime."

"Why would I want to?" he retorts, flashing a teasing smirk. "All that pesky breathing, eating, and freezing your arse off nonsense. No thanks."

You shove your hands deeper into your pockets, exhaling a puff of frosty breath. "You’ve got to get some new material, Spike."

"Why? This works just fine," he quips, his voice dropping into a playful murmur. "You always bite when I pull your tail."

You ignore him—or at least you try to—but it’s hard when his gaze lingers on you, sharp and assessing, like he’s trying to see past the surface. Since Buffy left for Italy, Spike’s been different. Still sarcastic, still sharp-tongued, but there’s a new softness in him, like he’s figuring out how to move on from her. And then there’s the way he looks at you when he thinks you don’t notice...

A rustling sound pulls you from your thoughts, your body tensing as you grip your stake. Spike’s demeanor changes instantly, the teasing gone as his predatory instincts take over. A moment later, two fledgling vampires lurch out of the shadows, their movements erratic and feral.

"Finally," Spike mutters, cracking his knuckles. "I was getting bored."

The fight is quick but intense. You duck as one of the fledglings lunges for you, its claws slicing through the air where your face had been. Spinning on your heel, you drive your stake into its chest, and it crumbles to dust before it can even cry out. Spike, meanwhile, dispatches the other with his usual flair, staking it with a bored expression as though he’s done it a thousand times—which, of course, he has.

When the dust settles, you’re out of breath, your chest rising and falling in sharp bursts that fog the cold air. Spike leans casually against a tombstone, twirling his stake like it’s a toy, completely unruffled.

"You alright, love?" he asks, his smirk returning. "Not too winded, I hope. Wouldn’t want my dragon passing out on me."

"Would you stop calling me that?" you huff, brushing dirt from your jeans.

"Why? It suits you," he teases, stepping closer. "Fierce, fiery, and entirely too much fun to rile up."

"Keep it up, Spike, and I’ll show you fiery temper."

He raises a scarred eyebrow, his smirk softening into something more playful. "Promise?"

Your cheeks heat—not from anger but from the way he says it, low and flirtatious, the words curling through the space between you. You hate how easily he gets under your skin. Or maybe you don’t hate it as much as you pretend to.

"Come on," he says suddenly, nodding toward his crypt. "You’re freezing your scales off out here. Let’s get warm."

✦ ✦ ✦

Spike’s crypt is warmer than you expected, though that’s likely due to the small space heater humming in the corner. The air smells faintly of leather and whiskey, and the flickering candles scattered around give it a surprisingly cozy atmosphere.

"You’ve upgraded," you remark, eyeing the threadbare but inviting couch as you settle onto it.

He shrugs out of his duster and tosses it over a nearby chair. "Figured I’d make the place a bit more hospitable. Not that I get many visitors these days."

"Well, consider me honored," you quip, though there’s a weight to his words that lingers. Since Buffy left, Spike’s world has grown smaller, quieter. You suspect he’s still figuring out how to fill the void she left behind.

He grabs a bottle of whiskey from a nearby table and takes a swig before holding it out to you.

"Here," he says. "Warm you up."

You hesitate for a moment before accepting. The first sip burns, but it spreads warmth through your chest, chasing away the chill of the night. Spike sits down beside you, closer than he needs to, and you’re hyper-aware of the space—or lack thereof—between you.

"So," he says, leaning back and stretching his arms along the back of the couch. "What’s it like, being one of the Chosen?"

"It’s... a lot," you admit, staring into the amber liquid in your hand. "Buffy made it look easy, but it’s not. Sometimes it feels like I’m just trying not to screw up."

"Buffy was good," he says, his voice softer now. "But she had her share of screw-ups too. Don’t sell yourself short, love. You’ve got fire. You’ll figure it out."

The mention of Buffy hangs in the air for a moment, a ghost neither of you can ignore. You glance at him, trying to read his expression, but it’s unreadable.

"Do you miss her?" you ask quietly, the question slipping out before you can stop it.

He doesn’t answer right away. When he does, his voice is low, almost a whisper. "Used to think I’d never stop missing her. Thought she was it for me, you know? But... things change."

His eyes meet yours, and there’s something raw and honest in his gaze that makes your heart skip a beat.

"And now?" you ask, barely more than a whisper.

"Now..." He trails off, his lips quirking into a small smile. "Now I think I might be moving on."

The air between you crackles with unspoken possibilities, and for a moment, you forget about everything else—the patrols, the vampires, even Buffy. It’s just you and Spike, the space between you shrinking by the second.

"You’re not as much of a pain as you think, you know," you say softly, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

"Careful, love," he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. "Say things like that, and I might start thinking you like me."

"Maybe I do," you admit, your cheeks heating despite the cold.

For once, Spike doesn’t have a snarky reply. Instead, he leans in, his hand brushing against yours. His gaze drops to your lips, and for a heartbeat, the world seems to hold its breath.

But before he can close the distance, a loud crash outside shatters the moment.

"Bloody hell," he mutters, standing and grabbing his stake. "Can’t a bloke get a moment’s peace?"

You laugh despite yourself, standing and pulling your jacket tighter. "Come on, dragon," he says with a wink, holding the door open for you. "Duty calls."

As you step out into the night, the cold bites at your cheeks again, but the warmth of his presence lingers. And as you walk beside him, trading banter and stolen glances, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you’re not the only one moving on.

[lostinforestbound]

Can I ask for HCs of Rolan with a partner who's big on surprising him with gifts? Not the 'getting him the most expensive and lavish stuff' but the 'takes notes of all the stuff he likes and gifts it to him even without any big occasion' kind

YES YES YES I ABSOLUTELY CAN!!! This idea is so sweet and I am in desperate need for Rolan fluff!

Giving Gifts to Rolan

Rolan, outside of Cal and his mother, never receives gifts from anyone. When he became the new master of Ramazith's tower, he was given gifts by the people in celebration. Potions, Tapestries, all these lavish things he never cared for. He usually puts them in a closet and forgets about them.

When Tav and him finally get together officially, he's not sure how to react when they start giving him gifts out of nowhere. He's confused by it even; why would they get him something out of nowhere? What did he do to deserve it? He didn't earn this.

He will start reciprocating, giving gifts in response to the ones he's receiving. Surely they're expecting something back? He would be a fool to not try and match them, but gift giving isn't something he's good at.

When Tav eventually asks why he's also getting them gifts, and he responds with "well, it's a nice exchange, is it not?" and they'll quickly realize that this man thought he had to give something back every time.

They explain that this is their love language. They love giving him gifts, without expecting anything in return. He immediately asks why if he hasn't earned it: "Well, I love you, and I love getting you things. It makes me feel good to see you happy."

He doesn't argue it further, but it still feels strange to him. Though he can't deny his heart flutters a little when they get him something thoughtful, like an item he was looking at in the market and they got it for him in secret.

Some gifts he ends up loving: Magic books (despite his infinite library in the tower), peerless focus elixirs, a sweet baked treat, horn jewelry, earrings, new robes, nice smelling shampoos for his hair, and facial care ointments.

What he would find so sweet (or funny depending on context) is the certain gifts coming with enchantments on them. He loves having small magical items in collections. Earrings that give him a boost in charisma, rings of protection, and scarfs that keep him extra warm in the cold months.

Funnier magical items he has received thus far: Sweater of Calming, a Ring of Rock Eating, Seal of Approval, Book of Mispells, Cookie of Hunger, and a Giggle Dagger.

Sometimes they give it to him directly, but he's always delighted to see when wrap it in a bow or they put it in a little box on his desk. It makes it a little extra special and he adores it. It's an instant mood lifter for him!

It takes him a while to realize his tail visibly flicks about happily when he sees that he got another gift. Tav never says a thing when they see it since they find it both adorable and endearing. The secret is revealed only when Cal and Lia tease him about it, and now he actively tries to control his tail.

Rolan starts responding to the gifts again, but in his own way outside of gift giving: spending time with them, cooking them breakfast or dinner, setting up more romantic dates, and anything he can to show he appreciates them. That he loves them dearly, and they are the true gift to him.