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#-and how it takes form. Either in their life or to them or their work and arts. Etcetera...
thefreakandthehair · 2 days
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I just wanna see that smile
wc: 1.1k | tags: canon-compliant injury/recovery, hospital setting, getting together, (brief and inferred mutual) pining, first kiss
a/n: happy (belated) birthday to my pal, @firefly-party! kei drew this piece last year and it was one of the first artworks we talked about when we became friends. this series has continued to live in my brain ever since, so I decided to write a little something in the universe!
Eddie woke up on March 26th, 1986 and Steve’s waited patiently for this moment ever since. 
Well, patient is a misnomer— he’d waited quietly to anyone not named Robin or Dustin. Robin, because she knows him too well and there’s no point in trying to hide anything from her and Dustin, because he’d apparently grown up overnight and pieced together that Steve sitting at Eddie’s bedside and holding his fucking hand every time he waltzed into the room meant something. 
Or maybe it was when Steve gave Eddie all of his rings back, sliding them carefully onto his shaking fingers with a comforting smile. 
Or maybe when Eddie sat up unassisted for the first time and Steve nearly hit the ceiling, bracing him in a panic as if all of his stitches and staples would burst with the tiny movement he’d been working toward in physical therapy. 
Hell, maybe it was Steve taking over some of Eddie’s care for himself, washing his hair and braiding it because the staff at Hawkins Memorial are doing nothing more than the bare minimum to make sure they don’t get sued, or even more frightening, reamed out by the new duo of Hopper and Wayne again. Either way, his hair was making Steve’s own scalp itchy. 
Dustin never tells Steve what it was exactly that tipped him off but whatever it was, it’s enough for Dustin to give Steve the floor when Eddie’s getting ready to discharge back home. And that’s how, exactly two months later to the day from Eddie waking up, Steve enters Eddie’s otherwise empty room armed with a special treat in the form of milkshakes to find Eddie pouring over an unfortunately familiar stack of papers. 
“NDA?” Steve asks, nodding at the papers in Eddie’s lap. He’s upright, fully dressed in the black sweatpants Jeff brought by and a cut off Metallica tee shirt, bandages around his stomach and neck. 
Eddie mutters as he reads under his breath, eyes flitting across the page. 
“How the fuck do they expect any of us common folk to understand a fucking word of this? Hereby? Wherein? Hitherto? What fucking year did I wake up in, man?”
“Yeah, I think the whole point is that you don’t read what you’re signing but I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Steve huffs a small laugh through his nose as he steps carefully around Eddie’s crutches. “You may as well just sign it because if you don’t, they’ll forge it anyway. Now finish signing your life rights away so you can have this milkshake with me.” 
Eddie perks up, looking away from the mess of papers and smiling up at Steve with a smile so genuine, it punches the air out of his lungs. He keeps looking at him like this, like Steve’s a breath of fresh air, like he's someone Eddie wants to have around. 
Steve isn’t sure what to do with that look yet, but he’s sure glad it’s there. 
“Celebration milkshakes? Is this a freedom gift?” Eddie signs the NDA quickly and sets the pen down on the bed next to him. 
“It sure is. Figured this could make up for all those lame popsicles from the cafeteria.” 
The mattress creaks as Steve sits down on the edge, just to the side of the railing, and hands Eddie the strawberry treat. Their fingers graze, Steve’s chilled and Eddie’s warm. His hand is still a little shaky, trembling as he takes hold of the cup, but they’re warm and warm means alive. 
Eddie’s hand can tremble for the rest of his goddamn life so long as it’s always warm. 
They each take a sip, smooth ice cream slurping up their straws, and after a moment, Eddie sighs.
“Is it weird that I’m actually sort of worried about leaving?” 
Steve’s eyebrows knit together, looking down at Eddie’s rings glinting beneath the offensive fluorescent lights above them.
“What are you worried about?”
“Uh, well, I did almost die. And the town still wishes I did. It’s a lot easier to make those dreams a reality outside of these walls, y’know? And I’m uh…” Steve watches as Eddie takes a breath and Steve suddenly misses the early days when Eddie was connected to the heart rate monitor. 
“You’re…?” Steve presses, sipping his milkshake again to appear casual. 
“I see you all the time here. Guess I just don’t want that to change.” 
Steve’s heart skips a beat, clattering in his chest and pounding at his ribs, desperately trying to crack him right open and run to the man who’s claimed it. Eddie watches him with cautious eyes, opens his mouth to say something else but Steve cuts him off before he can take it back. 
“Why do you think that’d change? Forest Hills is a lot closer than this shithole, and you won’t be kept under lock and key. And as for the first thing, well, Wayne and Nancy have a lot in common and I have a bat loaded up with nails in the trunk of my car.” Steve rests his free hand on Eddie’s knee. “No one's gonna fuck with you. Don’t worry about that.” 
“You sound a little cocky there, Stevie.” Eddie lifts one eyebrow, glancing from Steve’s hand up to his eyes. “Ready to fight for my honor or something?”
“Yep.” 
He hadn’t brought the milkshakes intending to use them as props, but he’s glad he has something to do to fill the space as Eddie watches him with questioning eyes. As he slurps through the straw, grating noise still preferable over the awkward silence, Eddie’s pinched expression turns softer, realization dawning between the stark white walls of the hospital and the pink ice cream in both of their hands. 
“You’re serious.” Eddie says. 
“Took you that long to figure that out?” Steve teases. 
“I’ve been a little busy with learning how to breathe and walk again. Y’know, just little things.” Eddie rolls his eyes with that same fond smile, free hand lacing its fingers through Steve’s. “So what you’re saying is that I’ll see you just as much outside of this prison as I have inside of it?” 
Steve shrugs. “Probably even more, honestly. There are no visiting hours at Wayne’s, and it’s not like I have a job to rush off to these days. You’re stuck with me, Ed. At least for as long as you want me around.” 
Eddie snorts, unceremoniously scoffing in Steve’s face as if in disbelief.
“Don’t make promises like that. What happens when I never want you to leave?” 
The air shifts, growing heavier as they find themselves leaning closer, two satellites orbiting one another by nothing but gravitational pull. 
Steve’s not sure who actually closes the gap, but he finds himself with his lips pressed against Eddie’s— sweet, chilled, a little chapped but smiling against his. Months of waiting, of hoping that he’d get this opportunity, come to a deafening crescendo and it takes all of his discipline to not push. Instead, they pull apart and Steve smiles, tucking loose hair behind Eddie’s ear. 
“That’s easy. I’d just never leave.”
fun fact: kei, I wrote your birthday down in my calendar as the 28th for some reason, a solid ten days late, so know that this was planned from the get-go but was just a tad bit late.
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bigothteddies · 3 days
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one thing I particularly love about polyamory and how I engage with it is the ability to form romantic and platonic relationships that aren’t simple and definable as such. I love having friends that are more than friends but aren’t really romantic partners either. I love having people I would move mountains for even if we don’t think we’ll ever actually be together. I love sexually bonding with friends to a point where we interact like a couple, even if we consider ourselves single. I love taking care of someone like they’re the love of my life, even when we’ll never be in the same country. I love the idea of being a platonic rock in someone’s life, someone they come back to every time when their relationships don’t work out and they still need to feel cared for and loved by someone who isn’t going to hold them to the same standards a romantic partner will. I love telling my friends I love them. I love falling in love with my friends. I love loving and caring and fucking and falling and flirting and everything in between with all the people I care about most in the world, regardless of what everyone else tells us our actions mean.
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radiance1 · 2 days
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Hmmm Phantom Planet compliant except I had a random idea about the 4th version of Vlad in the 'Ten Years Later' section on the wiki (Listen I forget stuff a lot so if it's there I use it alright-)
Okay so Vlad, gets flung out to space and flies away from earth, then gets captured and turned into a slave by aliens and because he was the strongest among them, he's used both for work and sport. Where am I going with this? Easy, when Vlad was a slave he unfortunately (in his mind) gets attached to other slaves from other races who could either be adults or children your pick, I guess? So, when he breaks out and escapes, he doesn't do so alone.
This results in Vlad wandering around space with his new 'crew' doing... well, honestly I have no clue? Maaaybe trying to return members who still have a family (and a home) to return to back to them or whatever. Perhaps even because Vlad still doesn't have a good (he's a business man what did you expect?) moral compass, he kinda also steals from a few other planets or something.
Also taking the thing from the V4 where Vlad doesn't remove his shackles despite changing clothes because he wants to remind himself where and how far he came. Because boy do I actually like that.
So basically, space nomad Vlad with a not very good moral compass who regularly steal tech and other such things from planets while doing business with others along with the few members of his crew he's got left with a giant ship that he stole from his captors and also upgraded because he simply could.
Then he pulls up to Earth after a full ten years of being gone in Earth time, finally caving in because his crew wanted to see where exactly he hailed from and that he should totally have the opportunity to go back like he gave the others.
He does not expect for Earth to have changed one bit in his time away, he does expect something to happen when he enters Earth because you know, giant spaceship?
He does not expect to come across Earth after it had recently been invaded by another race.
He also did not expect to come face to face with this 'Justice League' that he's been hearing whispers of in space. He's known of them, of course, but he always thought that they were from another planet.
Not his homeworld.
(Meanwhile, Danny is just kind of there in the background, having faded since the Justice League was formed and they combated against multiple world ending threats. Which is exactly how he likes it, honestly. Normal life hooray!)
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chaithetics · 2 days
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Hello!!! Hope ur doing well <3
I looooved the way u wrote Matt n I wanted to ask if u could do a nsfw alphabet about him? But I also noticed on ur masterlist u havent written one yet and if u dont want to thats fine :>
Matt Murdock NSFW Alphabet
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Hello lovely Nonnie! Thank you for sending this through, this was a nice, quick and fun piece to do so thanks for sending it through. Happy to do nsfw nbcs, I just never have had a request for one before. It's obviously my first time, so I hope you enjoy! Do let me know what you think! :)
Warnings: 18+ MDNI!!!, smutty smut smut I guess? Not proof or beta read!
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
This man lives for aftercare. Matt Murdock is without a doubt, absolutely obsessed with physical touch and indulging in it after the act as a form of aftercare, no matter the type of sex you just had, oral or penetrative. He’s obsessed with your body and how your skin feels against his and how your skin feels when he runs his fingertips over goosebumps, scars, moles, stretch marks, all of your curves and muscles. He likes to be clean but even if he’s sweaty he still likes to cuddle you, he needs to feel your skin against his, to press his head into your neck to tickle your sensitive skin and to deeply inhale your scent. He’s attentive to any needs you have, he smiles as he listens to your heart steadily beating and relaxing from that high, and he’s extremely affectionate. If you have hair he’ll be playing with it however he knows that you like and if not, he’ll be caressing your face gently as well while you cuddle. 
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
His favourite body part of a partner’s is their mouth/lips. He loves the way that his partner’s mouth feels against his, how soft it is to kiss, the shape of your lips and tracing them with his fingertips, how he can feel your lips move and it affects the rest of your face when you smile and laugh, how your mouth is where your gorgeous laugh comes from, your voice, and also the moans he loves to hear from you. 
His favourite body part of his, is his hands. He loves physical touch and his hands allow him to indulge in that sense by being affectionate and being able to touch your body all over. He can caress you with his hands, feel the goosebumps along your bare skin when you strip down, he can feel how you clench around his digits when he’s inside of you. His hands are the perfect way for him to indulge in you. 
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He’s a Catholic… He’d use the preferred protection methods of his partners but he has no issue with cum. I don’t know if this is a controversial take, but Matt Murdock is certainly into cumplay… 
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He wants to explore his submissive side more, he likes the slight feeling of dominance with a partner who bites him, he likes his neck being bitten. He either hasn’t tried pegging but really wants to be pegged, or he’s been pegged and really loves it but it takes him a little while to work up to feeling comfortable communicating that. 
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
To absolutely nobody’s surprise, Matt is extremely experienced. He has a playful charm that makes everyone in a five-block radius swoon. As Foggy has pointed out over and over again, he’s an absolute magnet for beautiful people of all shapes, sizes, and colours, and people absolutely fall for his handsome, tortured soul energy that he brings to everything. He certainly didn’t shy away from the attention in college he got for his looks and charm, one of the only ‘sins’ he didn’t feel the need to repent for in his college years. Foggy’s jokes have been longstanding in Matt’s life. He’s an experienced icon, he knows what he likes now and he knows how to please. 
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Matt’s favourite position is positions of cuddle and spooning sex. He loves the intimacy of becoming one and being as physically close to each other as possible, the position is sensual and intimate and he loves being able to press right up against you, your buddies wrap around each other and having his face pressed so closely to you. He can feel everything about you with all of his senses in the most overwhelming and amazing way. 
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Matt is a more serious lover, there’s gentle caresses and words spoken that are filled with love and need. Sometimes, in a slightly more cockier mood he may be a little less serious and have that devilish grin on his face and make a couple of more teasing comments and witty remarks to spice things up while he’s bringing you to release, but generally he’s more serious when you two are together during sex. 
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) 
Matt likes to be well-groomed in general and that applies to all of him including downstairs, he doesn’t necessarily like shaving down there but his preference is that he likes to keep things tidy and trimmed for himself. A view he’d never oppose on others and he’d never criticise or be put off by hair or a lack of.  
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
The intimacy is never lacking with Matt, he’s proud on his lovemaking abilities and he knows he’s an expert of the art of making partners swoon with his big brown eyes and charms. Matt is a passionate, sensual, lover who always makes sure you feels special and checks in on you in the sweetest, most genuine but also hot ways. He knows just how to romance you up and make the foreplay incredible with the goal of giving you as much pleasure as possible. He loves intimacy, there’s lots of affectionate touching, the sex often is in cuddling positions. His body moves in ways to reassure you of how much he yearns and worships you, his words are filled with love and passion during sex. He makes it intimate and filled with love. 
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He doesn’t jack off very often. He prefers being intimate with others and he’s always had plenty of opportunities for mutual pleasure with others that he’s rarely felt the need to pleasure himself like that. He rarely does, and whenever he has he usually does it in the shower. He tries to focus on the feelings of pleasure and on the sound of the shower water running to drown out the rest of the overwhelming landscape of New York while he chases his high with swift strokes. But he prefers the feeling of someone else’s hands, fortunately, he has you now. And your hands are better than any feeling he could ever give himself. 
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Matt’s delved into and is pretty into bondage. He likes the feeling of the power dynamics, the gain and loss of power and control, how it feels on skin. He doesn’t mind who is who, he’s more than happy to be tied up for you and to surrender that type of control to you. He trusts you and wants to be used to give you as much pleasure as possible. But he’s also more than okay with being the one to tie you up and feel those materials against your skin and wear his signature smirk as he does. 
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Matt isn’t an exhibitionist and he’s not really into public or outdoors sex. He much prefers to keep sex in the privacy of his own home, the world is often overwhelming for him and there’s always a million things going on, in his little private corner that’s home, his partner can be just all his and it’s much easier for him to focus on and enjoy being with his partner. He loves the comfort and intimacy of keeping it in the bedroom, but Matt also loves the intimacy of spooning and cuddle sex on the couch. 
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Matt’s a giver, a pleaser, what gets him going is the mere idea of pleasuring you, he just wants to please you and give you the sweet, sweet, sweet release you deserve. It’s what turns him on and what gets him going, you always need to orgasm first, that’s his goal during intimacy and he tried to create an orgasm gap, one that’s in your favour. 
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
He’s into bondage and we know that he has nothing against some light choking, but beyond that, he’s the type of man who still tries to be as good and respectful as possible. He wouldn’t be into more rough and violent sex or the more hardcore side of BDSM, he’d always be too scared to hurt his partners and the idea of inflicting intentional pain like that makes him very uncomfortable. 
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Matt is more than okay with receiving oral but there’s not doubt about it, he significantly prefers giving oral instead of receiving. As we’ve already clarified, he’s a giver. He wants to give you oral as much as you want him to, he’d happily spend his life buried in you, holding onto, gripping and caressing your thighs as he does. He’s obsessed with your taste, the way your body reacts as he’s pleasuring you and how he can sense everything going on with your hormones, pheromones, heartbeat, your breathing and then again as you orgasm. He loves to give oral and he’s absolutely skilled at it, he’s a king of it. He knows just how to use his mouth in the best possible way that makes you feel so good and gets you in your favourite places. 
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
His pace and style is always sensual when he’s with you. He’s done faster paced sex and sex that’s been more rough but he loves slow, sensual lovemaking while he cuddles and buries himself deep into you with a perfect pace that makes it last and is the definition of sensual. 
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) 
He likes to go all out with sex, for everyone involved to get their fair share of orgasms. Matt isn’t the biggest fan of his quickies but in angsty moments, he has been known to have a more angsty, potentially more rougher quickie than his usual slower and sensual lovemaking. It’s still filled with passion though. But he doesn’t do quickies often. 
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Matt’s definitely game to experiment and to communicate about it, listen to ideas with an open-mind and he’s curious in a charming way about things. He’s open to trying new positions, new toys, some different styles and dynamics. But he’s not into risks or experimentation that’s on the more moderate to extreme side of the spectrum. He’s not an exhibitionist type so he wouldn’t take those kind of risks with sexual activity and he wouldn’t be into risks in the world of bodily harm for example. 
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Matt lives off giving pleasure in the bedroom and is more than content with just going one round or having one orgasm if you’ve received everything you wanted and needed. He’s flexible and happy to please. But it also goes without saying that this man is the definition of sexual stamina, he can easily go multiple rounds and has no issue with lasting long. His rounds definitely aren’t short. He’s only interested in multiple rounds though if it’s what you crave. 
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Matt never owned toys and didn’t use them on himself, over time he started to experiment with toys and would happily use them on partners and had nothing against them really. He’d always smile while holding one in his hands, feeling it as a partner told him what it did and how it was used. This man has no security issues with toys, and views them as aids and fun, not competition.
 After dating you, there’s a drawer in the dresser that has a few different toys which he has no issue with. He’s definitely more experienced with them now, having tried things like vibrating strokers but he much prefers using toys on his partner. There’s an immediate smirk on his face as he turns them on, starts using them and hears your sweet noises and feels your body react. 
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He’s a pleaser and a giver, he’s not really into edging because he just wants to give you pleasure, as much of it as he can, as soon as possible. There are times where he can be a bit playful and tease you, but you don’t even really need to beg for him to stop teasing and give in. He’s just so eager to please and doesn’t want to waste time when he could be loving on your body and making you so happy. 
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Matt’s pretty vocal and he’s not ashamed of that. He lets out a lot of groans as his brow furrows during sex, it’s an automatic response from him, he naturally makes noises, he’s known to whimper when he’s feeling sensitive and overstimulated, he moans but its his groans that are his loudest, most often and sexiest noise. 
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
That he can become a really needy and clingy lover, especially if you’re coming to the end after a day of multiple rounds. He’s always got to have at least one hand of his on you, he smothers you in kisses. He has you laid on the bed and he’s just still lazily going down on you, slowly as if you’re a dessert that he needs to be savoured. You also happen to be the best dessert he’s ever been able to put in his mouth and enjoy. 
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Whatever you rock with! 
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Generally, Matt Murdock has a longing in his bones that his eyes cannot hide and pierces you with a desperate yearning for touch and love, in that type of matter of the word. But his sex drive is moderate and flexible, he gets a lot of pleasure out of giving pleasure so he doesn’t have an issue being with partners with lower or higher sex drives. He’s someone though who would be happy to just give much more often than receive or have penetrative intercourse as well though. 
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
It depends. He’s big on aftercare and physical affection, so he definitely prioritises that and wouldn’t fall asleep immediately as he’d want to spend time cuddling and talking. After a long ‘double-shift’ of his lawyer by day and vigilante by night lifestyle, there would be times after sex where he would cuddle you and after a bit of talk, he’d fall asleep cuddling you and listening to the drum of your heartbeat as it lulls him to sleep. But sometimes he just likes to cuddle and talk to a ridiculous hour in the morning, he’s definitely an insomniac.
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penaltyboxboxbox · 3 days
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how long have you been drawing for ? your art seems so confident (that seems mean but it’s a compliment i promise) like your strokes and stuff just seem so… educated? like you don’t need to sketch you already know what you want to do ?
my whole life!!!!! ive been drawing since i was a little childdddd like the second i could hold a pencil i was drawing! i got put into art classes very young as well cause i liked to draw so much. i started formal classes at like? 6/7 years old probably? and i did some form of either art class at school, out of school, or some combination from that age until i was an adult. So i've had a decent amount of formal training as a kid and have always just genuinely loved drawing so on top of that i was always drawing for fun too.
I think things really shifted for me when I was like?? 21/22 ish and i got very very into portraiture specifically- i really honed a lot of my skills in that department and honestly just became so obsessed with form. I would draw so much realism, tons of studies, i loved to work backwards- draw the shape/form of a thing first, usually in paint or marker, and then add the lines/details on top. i generally during this time also completely stopped working in any erasable mediums. i became and still am to this day a pens only artist, i cant stand to draw with a pencil.
Doing this gave me what i think is one of the best skills to have as an illustrator- a very confident stroke. Being able to attack a piece, not be afraid of the marks you make, working with what you have rather than fussing until you think it's perfect, made my work much more striking and made me a lot more comfortable with messing up and figuring out a way to fix it. or even start over.
i think generally heavily and meticulously sketching in pencil is what leads a lot of artists to tons of frustration. the linework never looks as good as the sketch, you sketched for hours and only now you realized something is off, takes forever to go back, etc etc etc. I find it to often be very demoralizing- so i always advise just to get as comfortable as you can with as few lines as possible. focusing on FORM and PROPORTION rather than the skeleton method or going over with tiny little pencil strokes. everyone has different methods that work best for them, but that was one thing i taught myself that really changed art for me!
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cottonlemonade · 2 days
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A Simpler Life [Part 2]
word count: 1621 || avg. reading time: 7 mins.
pairing: post-time skip Kita x chubby!Reader
genre: fluff, slice of life, mutual pining
warnings: spoilers
synopsis: In pursuit of a calmer, simpler life you flee the city to move to the countryside - only to fall in love with your neighbor.
[part 1]
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Kita‘s steps quickened when your house came into view, his eyes searching the veggie patch for your straw hat but nothing. His shoulders drooped but he was glad to see the tomatoes doing well.
Maybe he should just knock and ask if you could spend dinner again together but he decided against it. You were probably busy or had better things to do. A light went on in your house and through the window he saw you lean over a small table with a mirror, applying some lipstick. From the little he could make out you wore a pretty black dress that hugged your curves so beautifully, his thoughts were temporarily disconnected. He had to swallow. You were going out. Looking down at his own dirty work clothes and touching the sweaty towel around his neck he let out a deep breath. Just as well. And feeling like he was being intrusive with his stares he continued his way home. As he walked along the dusty road, he remembered a seemingly endless discussion the twins had with Suna back in school that he was close enough to overhear. They talked about leagues and how Suna clearly was not in the same one as a girl he fancied. Back then Kita didn‘t quite understand what they meant since their volleyball team was amongst the best. How much more successful was that girl‘s team that Suna shouldn‘t even talk to her? But now it started to make sense. Rounding the bend, he entered his courtyard and spotted his dog on the porch, eagerly sniffing a familiar looking bundle.
But he had dropped it off this morning, he was sure. With a frown he walked over and picked it up. A note was tucked underneath the knot. “Seems like I made too much again - oops! Could you take this off my hands, neighbor? Y/n“
The bundle smelled heavenly and feeling the disappointment subsiding ever so slightly, he carried it inside.
The next couple of days were the same. He would walk by your house, maybe catch a glimpse of you through a window, sometimes he could talk to you for a few minutes when you were in the garden but unfortunately, he couldn’t seem to bring himself to outright ask for your company and since you didn’t bring it up either he concluded that first time had just been a slip of your tongue.
But every evening without fail he came back to a new bundle of goodness, still warm, waiting for him on his porch under the watchful eyes and nose of his dog.
A new note accompanied each delivery and they already formed a small stack in his dresser drawer.
Every morning he would then drop off the cleaned box and bundle by your door, the same words as his first message written neatly on a sheet of simple, pretty paper.
“I tried a new dish with a recipe from one of the grandmothers in town. I hope you like it! - Also a quick question to a professional: I think my strawberries are dying. Their leaves are all crunchy and no matter how much I water them they seem to wilt. Thoughts? - Y/n”
He got up even earlier the next morning than usual and headed to his smaller greenhouse that kept some fruit and veggies he liked to have growing year round for his own personal use. After swiftly filling a basket with strawberries, he made his way to your home to drop them and the bundle off alongside a detailed note on what could be done about your plants before he headed to work.
“Kita-saaan!“
The young man stood up, looking around to see who called for him.
His stomach flipped when he saw your lovely figure standing on the road at the side of his field, waving. Today was another scorching hot day. You wore a light summer dress and your straw hat that he found so endearingly bewitching. He returned your wave and held his breath when he saw you pushing your bicycle along the trampled little dirt path between the neighboring field, obviously not bothered by dirtying your sandals a little. He waded out of the rice paddy to meet you.
“I ought to be mad at you.“, you said as a way of greeting him and he stopped short. Then you reached into the basket of your bicycle and took out a small bag.
“Those strawberries must be worth a fortune and there were so many of them, I can hardly finish those by myself.“
He relaxed and began to breathe again. You had cut some of the strawberries into bite-sized pieces while others topped freshly baked pastries. Lastly, you took out a glass bottle of milk, dyed slightly pink by the strawberry puree gathered at the bottom. “Do you think you have time for a little break?“
The pastries were, of course, delicious. He didn‘t expect anything else from whatever you prepared at this point. But as you two ate in the shade of a tree his mind was trying to figure out how to ask you about the other night. About you in that dress.
“Are you alright?“
He looked up from his cup of milk and met your eyes.
“What have ya been up to this week?“
“Hmm, nothing much.“, you said, spearing one of his strawberries on a skewer and pushing it between your lips. He could watch you enjoy his produce for hours, would happily spend the rest of his life feeding you just to see that blissful look in your eyes.
“I went to a friend’s birthday in the city. Let me tell you, even though I haven‘t been here long, I already missed the peace and quiet as soon as I got out of the taxi. It was the right decision to move. I‘m… so much happier here.“
He was pretty sure he had never been this relieved in his whole life. Looking at his cup of milk again he tried to hide a smile. “I‘m glad to hear that.“, he said.
Comfortable silence stretched between you like a cat in a sunbeam.
“I was wondering…“, you said eventually, “if you‘d like to come over for dinner again. Of course, if you‘d rather have the evening to yourself th-“
“Yes.“, he interrupted, then cleared his throat and continued, “That sounds great. I‘ll bring by the materials for that planter and set it up for ya.“
He was rewarded with another of your dazzlingly bright smiles.
The wheelbarrow gently wobbled over the many rocks and divots on the dirt road leading to your house. In it wooden planks as well as extra soil were stacked expertly and six little sugar snap pea starters were swaying back and forth on top.
When he arrived you were already waiting in your front yard, dressed for work, saluting when he halted. It took him a moment to collect his thoughts again.
“Alright, where do we start?“
“This‘ll only take 10 minutes.“, he waved you off.
“But if I help it might only take 9. Or… 30, depending on how much I slow you down.“
Kita laughed.
“Okay, but ya‘ll need gloves. The wood could splinter.“
“Oh. I don‘t have any.“
He reached into his back pocket and took out his pair, holding it out to you.
“What about you, though?“
“I‘ll be careful.“
It really didn‘t take long to connect the four pre-cut pieces with each other. Kita drove the long nails efficiently into the wood while you held the planks, trying not to get too distracted by the muscles in his shoulders and forearms. How could someone be this kind and generous? And handsome! And single!? Were the women in this town blind? But then again you did bring down the age average quite significantly…
“Y/n-san?“
His voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He held his hand out to you. For a confused moment you didn‘t know what to do and just took it. And Kita… he blushed.
“I asked for the other nail, please.“
“Oh my gosh, yes. Sorry. Uhm, here.“ You hastily pulled your hand away, your face burning bright red, and handed him the next nail.
Soon you were filling up the space with the soil he brought and planted the little starters. Using bamboo sticks and twine a makeshift trellis was quickly added and you stood up to admire your handiwork. You grinned and took off his gloves, holding up your hand for a high five.
When he raised his right you squinted and took it in yours.
“You did get a splinter!“, you scolded, “Man…! Come on.“
And you dragged him inside.
Kita thought he might explode at any second if you kept touching him. After carefully washing his hand and holding it under a steady stream of lukewarm water you pulled him over to your couch and asked him to keep his hand under the light of a small lamp on the side table. Rubbing down a pair of tweezers with some sake from your pantry you knelt in front of him, bringing his hand so close to your face he could feel your warm breath tickle his skin. It was quite maddening. Never had he felt such a strong desire for action. His whole body was tense like a taut bowstring. He held his breath while you worked, soft careful fingers rubbing and squeezing his calloused hand. He didn’t even notice the sting when you disinfected the spot after. But his skin burned when you applied a bandaid, gently smoothing out the corners.
“All done.”, you announced and got up to put the supplies away. He let out his breath, flexing his hand.
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art: coloring done by @keiko-chan
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otiksimr · 18 hours
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🌻
I do not get the stigma around taxidermy. It's really cool, it's amazing. Like you get to see what an animal looked like when it was alive except it's a statue made with the hide of the animal. That's really fucking cool.
It's not that cool when it's done unethical (I.E most taxidermized bats/bat remains in general are unethically produced, at least the ones being sold from what I know). But taxidermizing roadkill? Game you've hunted yourself with a permit? That's fuckign cool man keep going love to see the work just don't waste the organs and stuff.
I don't really care about the quality of the taxidermy, sure really life like taxidermy is amazing, but taxidermy that's done just for fun or badly are equally amazing. Like a silly little rodent in a cowboy aesthetic, that's silly, that's fun. That's cool.
Taxidermy where you mix and mash different animals- the most well known and well, infamous being the fiji mermaid. But there are still really cool taxidermy where people mix and mash animals, that's cool. Really cool!
Taxidermy is both an art form and an act of preservation, whichever way people choose to go through with it is on them, but it doesn't take a lot of effort to appreciate something either.
I find the main art of Taxidermy as a whole is to appreciate the animal it represents. Cause no matter how well made or what the taxidermy is used for, you're still preserving the animal. Like the Ivory-billed Woodpecker and Thylacine, the dozens of passenger pigeons and Carolina parakeets, preserved best they can with this form of art.
People can say what they want about Taxidermy but I will always consider it to be an act of love and appreciation for a creature that has met it's end.
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moonspirit · 1 day
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Do you think annie like WILL DEMAND time and affection from armin when hes abusing himself with work again? Like kinda just throw these paperworks under her clothes nicely so he cant find it or in a funny way (maybe not😄) just write “ANNIES TIME” all over his daily planner? Like when she gets really really deprived and sick of it like a week other more?she just throws away her insecurity for the day and just pout until armin gives her what she needs?
Ahahhaha xD Scrawling "It's ME time!" all over a daily planner is not Annie, but very much Pieck Behaviour anon xD
(also hi!)
I talk about Annie also being insecure and having guilt, but I don't think either of those things are on a level par with Armin's lol. Which is why I never see Annie as hesitating very much to openly prevent Armin from overworking. It makes a lot of sense to me to imagine a situation where Armin's burning the midnight oil with red eyes and non-stop yawning and Annie just sticks her hands under his armpits and hauls him off to bed.
Considering how unhealthy a relationship Armin has with his work-life lol, it would have to be Annie keeping him in check from collapsing in exhaustion. She'll be quite strict with that. He says he's got to look over a bunch of documents? Nope, it's the weekend, no can do.
But that's just her looking out for him. You asked me about Annie demanding affection!
Honestly, more than Annie pouting and batting her eyelashes at him beseechingly, I hc that she's more of the type to watch him neck-deep in work on a Sunday, ask if they're going out for that long-awaited picnic or not, and when he flashes her an apologetic half-smile and answers in the negative, she's just going to murmur "okay" very quietly and stalk off. For the rest of the hour that follows, her presence in the house is undetectable, except for that very dark energy radiating from a corner of the bedroom. Her silent sulking is so unsettling that Armin has no choice but to pick up her ball-shaped form off the ground and take her into the sunlight for that picnic. And of course - she's got a scowl and a pout plastered on her face until he manages to melt them off. It's very cute.
I'm also a very staunch believer that Annie gets Armin to de-stress from work related responsibilities and focus on HER through very very smutty ways 😌 But I won't contaminate this post with smut.
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stratospheric-bebop · 1 month
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— The Uses of Intelligence, by Caroline Kizer, 1959.
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skitskatdacat63 · 3 months
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Orb...
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+ process kinda
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
From the request HERE
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: Only a few more days are left of his short leave and Simon is determined to make every last second count with you. What better way to start the day than buried in between your thighs, helping you wake up by the feeling of his tongue alone and then overstimming you.
Word Count: 4.6 k
Warnings:
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The sun has just started to peek itself through the small gap in the blinds covering the window, illuminating the bedroom in enough light that it causes Simon to stir awake with the first signs of life as those brown eyes flutter a few times from the brightness until he comes back into consciousness. Rubbing his bare chest and scratching at the patch of hair on his lower abdomen as he rolls over onto his side to face the other body lying peacefully asleep, his breath hitches at the sight that he’s greeted with. 
Your long eyelashes rest delicately against your cheek, your chest slowly rising and falling with your deep, calm inhales and exhales as you still drift mindlessly through your dreams. The covers that are pulled up to your breasts conceal your naked form lying just underneath and the way they cling to your form allows him to follow the contours of your body through the fabric. You are a fucking picture of peaceful beauty.
Damn, you are so perfect he cannot look away and suddenly there is a tenting forming beneath the covers still wrapped around his lower half. It’s not his fault; how is he supposed to keep himself restrained when this is what he gets to wake up to? An ache situates itself in his chest, a gnawing blooming in his stomach to caress all that flawlessness. It is a hunger that only grows stronger the more he gazes until he is compelled to get up.
There are only so many days left in the short bit of leave he has and he wants to make every single second count. That’s why you both find yourselves naked even as you sleep; he needs his body to memorize the way yours feels against his and he needs to fuck you whenever the moment strikes, so there is no sense in wasting any amount of time with superfluous things when you both are about to go months without seeing one another. And right now that is working to his benefit as he wants to shower you with some extra attention to start the day.
Just a taste won’t hurt, he thinks, knowing full well that once he starts there is no stopping. Just till she wakes up.
He moves out from the warmth at your side as carefully as he can to ensure that his movements don’t wake you, not yet. The blanket slips from his unclothed hips as he shifts up onto his knees and positions himself over you, his hands atop the mattress on either side of your body so that he can push himself down your sleeping form while his lips take advantage of all that uncovered skin. Feathery light kisses trail down across the supple flesh of your breasts and over your soft torso as his hot mouth presses delicately into you in adoration for all this beauty that he gets to have all to himself. 
All these curves, all this smooth, voluptuous skin always ready for him to caress, it is enough to drive him insane.
Muscles ripple through his bare back as he continues down the line of your body, inching slowly so as not to miss any patch of flesh. He is careful not to drag his face too harshly as he goes along so that the stubble on his jaw won’t prick your skin, opting instead to pick his head up off you as he moves only to lower it back down at the next spot ready to receive his attention. Your skin is heated from being snuggled down in the bed and it invites him to nuzzle his nose into it as he goes.
Simon eventually reaches the edge of the covers that have fallen around your waist from him getting up and he has to lift them out of the way to reveal the rest of your gorgeous body to his yearning mouth. Rolling them back at a leisurely pace, he makes sure not to reveal too much so the cooler air outside of the blanket doesn’t have a chance to make you uncomfortable until the warmth from his lips can keep the skin flushed. Over the curve of your waist, your stomach, your hip bones he places his steamy kisses. It is when he gets to your belly button that the anticipation finally hits him that he is getting closer to his favorite spot: that beautiful place in between your thighs.
The mattress creaks under his weight as he arrives at the foot of the bed so that he can remove the covers and push them off your legs. He can feel his cock throb as he pulls them back and finds what he’s always pining for. A heavy exhale falls from his lips and his mouth begins to salivate as he catches that first glimpse of your legs laying splayed open and that sweet little pussy just there waiting for his mouth to embrace.  
Simon can’t ever get his fill of it and God, he needs it so bad now that he sees it again. For a split second he thinks about making his movements more pronounced to wake you up, but a sudden intrusion of an idea makes him stop. You had mentioned recently that you were wanting to try something, to be woken up with his tongue lapping against your clit. What kind of man would he be if he never indulged his sweetheart’s fantasies? Today seems as good a day as any to make your dreams come true, not that he ever needs an excuse to get lost in all that goodness between your legs. 
There are times when he is so ravenous for your cunt that nothing else will even come close to satisfying that beast inside him, but today he doesn’t want it to be about the harsh and rough… well, not yet; this morning is all about making you so delirious and overstimulated off his tongue only that you won’t be able to get out of bed at all and he can keep you all to himself for the entire fucking day.  
Quietly Simon slides himself off the edge of the bed to situate himself kneeling on the carpet so that he can lay his torso on the mattress, giving him a better angle to be able to move in. Your legs are positioned open in such a way that from here he can easily slip his face up in between them and right against you, but he is in no rush. Ever so gently he pins more tender kisses along the soft, supple muscles of your inner thighs, his lips embracing your flesh with silent promises that everything he is fixing to do he is going to do for you only because you deserve it. 
His pretty girl, his sweet thing, so perfectly made as if just for him; fuck, do you make him want to worship the ground you walk on. 
His eyes catch the goosebumps forming under his breath along your body wherever he places his warm mouth and he cannot help but smile at your automatic physical reaction to him. Even in sleep you know his touch and respond to it. 
“My sweet girl,” he whispers in his husky morning voice into your calf as he continues up the length of your leg. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, so goddamn beautiful. I’m one lucky bastard and I ain’t eva’ gonna forget it.” 
He continues on without hesitation as he slides all the way up until he is right at the threshold of those delicate petals that he wants his mouth on. A moist heat meets his lips as he leans in and places kiss after kiss to them; never has something felt so perfect pressed against him. If Simon could live between your legs permanently, they would never fucking find the man again. 
One of those beefy arms he slips under your leg to prop it up and move it even further out of his way so that he has as much space to work as he needs. Restraining himself from going in fast and heavy isn’t easy, but what he wants is to keep his movements relaxed, not crazed and insatiable like on occasions when he’s had a bad day and just needs to smother against you. No, you deserve the full princess treatment from him and that is what you are going to get. Taking the opposite hand not around your thigh, he uses two of those long, thick fingers to delicately spread apart the lips to get at all that lays in waiting inside.
“There she is,” Simon sighs quietly as he immediately spots that sweet little bean that he desperately wants to suck until it’s swollen and throbbing and then even more until you are coming on his face.
He doesn’t go right for the kill first, instead building the anticipation of your body as he kisses that crease between your petals and your thigh, using his balmy breath to stimulate that sensitive area as he switches sides a few times until he feels you twitch and only then does he continue. Gathering up all the spit in his mouth he collects it on his tongue and presses it through your petals to coat the area until your body can take over. As he pushes that thick muscle into you he catches the sound of a quick rush of air escaping through your nose, followed by a sleepy sigh as you stir.
His movements are tender and intimate, circling the nub with the tip of his tongue and slowly using the pad to make love to your clit. You sigh again heavier this time as you begin to squirm in your sleep the more he strokes, your hips rocking faintly over his face as the sound of your fingers clawing at the fitted sheet is caught. Just a little more stimulation and you aren’t going to be able to stay asleep much longer.
Your quiet, breathy moans become more than whispers now and those amber eyes dart back up to your face over the curves of your body, desperate to watch the subtle changes that ripple across your features as he works at bringing you into consciousness by your pleasure alone so he can witness the very moment you wake. 
There is a brightness on the other side of your shut eyelids as you slowly slip back into the realm of consciousness, the sound of your own muted groans filling the quiet around you along with something else you cannot quite distinguish and it feels like you are still dreaming. Then it hits you: there is a familiar glowing, warm sensation in the pit of your stomach that amplifies as you continue waking. Your eyes flutter open as the sensation is so intense that you can’t ignore it anymore and as you look around to gather your bearings you notice that there is a blonde-haired head rocking undisturbed between your thighs.
As you focus you realize that he is staring right back at you and the corners of his eyes crinkle as you feel his lips upturn against your petals; you know he’s pleased with himself at what he is doing. He doesn’t stop or try to speak, he only tightens his grip around your thigh that he has propped on his shoulder and continues to service your clit with his tongue while he presses his face in tighter so that the pressure adds to the stimulation. 
The sensation is damn near overwhelming now and you realize that he must have been at this for a bit as it feels like you are about to come. Your head falls back heavy against the pillow as your eyes close to allow the feeling to wash over you completely, needy moans unable to be kept under control fill what was once the silence in the room. 
That’s when you feel his lips lock around your clit before he sucks down on it and using the very tip of his tongue he twirls around the bud while his fingers come back into play. He finds your entrances and gently shoves his middle finger inside to rub across your G spot and instantly you can feel your calm shatter into pieces. A euphoric spasm shoots through your entire body, making your limbs start to tingle, and you know by the feeling that it is only a few more moments that remain until you are going to spill.
“Simon, shit…gonna come,” you whimper his name as you grind your head into the pillow. To have so much ecstasy hit you all at once overwhelms you with its intensity and leaves you unable to function. You are about to come, that is all your half-asleep brain can process. 
With a few more strokes of that strong muscle and a few more flicks of his finger resting inside you, the pressure building at the base of your spine and the warmth gathering in the pit of your stomach reach their threshold and you spill over the edge with a strong jolt that causes your back to arch up off the bed as you cry out. The force of it makes you buck against Simon’s face, but he is ready and digs his fingers in full force until his hold on you is so secure that he isn’t going anywhere as you ride out wave after wave of your orgasm that crashes over you like a tidal wave. 
Fuck, what a way to start the day.
In your sleepy, mind-numbed state, you forget just how voracious your military man can be and mistakenly believe that at any moment he is going to emerge from your thighs and come lay beside you…except instead of letting you go, he doesn’t stop. Simon keeps at it, only slowing his pace down to almost nothing, but not pulling away from you. Instead he sneaks quick breaths by tilting his head to the side so that it exposes his nose to the air before he buries it right back in against your now dripping slit. 
“Simon, baby,” you call groggily down to him as you try to wriggle free of his grasp; it’s the only thing you can do to persuade him to release you, “you can take it easy. It’s still early, we got all day.”
Just a second, you need to take a break only so long as to catch your breath.
Simon hears your pleas, but it falls on deaf ears as he does not even budge. His plan is already set in motion and you are not nearly exhausted enough for him to even think about stopping yet. This day needs to stay in the forefront of your mind for at least a few weeks after he leaves and be the specific memory that fuels your desperate masterbating while he’s gone and not able to fix the ache.
“Shh…” he hushes mutedly against you. “I only have a few more days with ya and I wanna give ya my full attention. And this mornin’ I wanna take care of ya. I’m gonna take care a ya so fuckin’ good, baby.”
Is there a way to say no to that? If there is, you can’t find it and don’t want to. Even through the overly sensitive nature of your body right now, you don’t want to deny him a thing, not when he says it like that. And to be honest now that he has you at his mercy, his tongue still stroking along the line of your slit before coming back up to circle the nub, you are starting to want it again too.
Tiny beads of sweat like mist cover over your body as the feeling of Simon’s arms slithering up your torso are felt running through the perspiration, greedy hands searching for your chest without being able to see. Grabbing onto as much of your supple breasts as can fit in his large palms he pinches the nipples and rolls them between his thumb and forefinger to make your heated body burn until you whine out loud as they stiffen at his touch.
“Shi-i-it, Simon,” you say, your speech starting to slur together as the mindless haze floods your thoughts from the activity at your chest that radiates in waves of arousal you can feel throb in your clit. Keep sucking, keep playing with my tits, don’t stop, your mind screams.    
Everything outside this is like a distant memory; your body is floating and your mind drunk as you exist only in a world made of pure ecstasy. Your hand reaches down around his arms across your torso to the back of his head where you can press and push him in tighter to your pussy and you hear Simon hum a deep, contented sigh at the feeling of you forcing him to suffocate even more. 
Tha’s it baby, drown me, he thinks to himself as some feral part of his brain gets activated. 
There is movement in the mattress that shakes your body up and down as Simon begins to grind his aching cock against it, trying to use the friction to relieve some of the pressure in the swollen tip. Hearing your beautiful music while being smothered in your pussy is like a religious experience that is akin to having heaven on earth. 
Your glistening thighs are vibrating around Simon's ears and as each flick of his tongue finds its mark you are brought closer to climaxing again as you spiral into sensory overload. Over and over he engages with your core, his mouth filling with your sweet juices, the tip of his tongue playing in such a way it feels like he is signing his name on his favorite part of you. 
His name is falling from your lips in pathetic whines now as the only word you can recall in the fog of euphoria that you are trapped in. Every inch of you is wrapped in a cold sweat that feels like you’re about to burst into flames, the muscles in your belly contract rigid as the pressure in your spine increases with every stroke.  
Right there, it’s right there. You have to come to release the tension.
And that tightness finally snaps just like that and you come again, this time harsher and more intense than the last. Your thighs lock tightly around Simon’s head as you writhe wildly, your body struggling to take all that immense euphoria that fills up every inch of you.
Lengthy seconds pass as you come back down from that high while the sounds of your whimpers act as a gauge to the man crushed in your leg lock how long he will have left to stay suffocating. Once you settle back down again into the pillows and release his head from your hold does he actually emerge fully to sit up for the first time since he went down. 
Twice is enough, right? For anyone else it would be, but for Simon you know the man is still craving more. He wipes away the accumulation of cum and spit glinting in the morning light off the hairs on his chin onto the sheet he has picked up, a contented grin filling his beautifully stark features as he sets the damp fabric aside and stalks back up onto the bed like a lion ready to pounce. Stray kisses embrace your lower abdomen as he sets himself into position kneeling between your legs. 
“Ya ready for more a’ me, baby?” he asks, though not waiting long enough for an answer before he is gripping into your hips to pull your body down over him until your butt rests on top of his thighs. 
You shake your head back and forth. “Too much, t-too much,” you plead, but that isn’t going to do anything and you know it. He is ravenous.
Simon licks his raw, swollen lips. “But you’re takin’ it all so fuckin’ well. Your legs aren’t even shakin’ that bad yet, sweetheart. Said I was gonna take care ‘a ya good and I think that means ya need more.”
You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry at the thought of going again. “I can’t…I can’t…” you continue, the back of your head digging into the pillow. His fingers run along your inner thighs to send shockwaves of overwhelming ecstasy shooting up your spine to the top of your head and your mouth struggles to form the rest of the words. “Just give me a minute. Please, Si. I don’t think I can go anymore.” 
“Yes ya can, beautiful; you’re not done,” he grunts with a sharp inhale as he takes your legs in his grip and lifts them up so that he can rest your calves over his shoulders in a way that will strap you to him. Looking down at you through the gap in your legs he flashes a toothy, mischievous grin that has you shivering with anticipation as the heat from his breath rolls over your stomach. “Come on, sweetheart, I know ya ‘ave a little more in ya. You’re gonna take it all for me, yeah? I want ya ta fuckin’ soak me.”
You’re screwed.
Nodding your head in agreement, he immediately leans his face in until his nose can nuzzle against that overstimulated button and your back harshly arches right off the mattress, hands gripping with iron strength into the bundled up sheets you’ve gathered in your fists. Those long, rough fingers holding up your sides drive deeper into your hips so that you can’t slip away from his face while you buck roughly as the movements of his tongue settle back into a steady rhythm again.
So velvety soft, so warm, so moist, it makes his engorged cock throb hard and can feel it prod into your butt. He is overtaken by a desperate, burning need that floods his veins like wildfire; he wants to bury his face even deeper into you as if he is trying to fuse himself with your body. That feeling in him is unleashed in all its fury and he laps at your cunt faster and harder with each passing minute and your already weakened body is overwhelmed. 
“Fuckin’ breathe, sweet thing,” he says in a deep, desperate growl, ripping his face from within you for only long enough to speak the order, as he looks down to see the mixture of pain and pleasure ripple through your brow before he is right back in. 
Hot tears are stinging at the rims of your eyes now as your overly sensitive clit is stimulated again, collecting until they finally break over the edge to stream out from the corners and down over your cheeks. Simon stares at them glinting in crystalline drops as they catch the light from the window before they disappear and gather on the pillow behind your head and goddamn are they so beautiful they nearly stop his heart. 
This is it, this is the one that will do you in and his mission will finally be accomplished. He is pushing your body to its limit of what it can handle and you take it all so gorgeously. To see his sweet thing so out of her goddamn mind is something he hopes will be ingrained in his memory for the rest of his miserable life. 
The heels of your feet dig into the sides of his bare torso until his ribs are stinging under the pinpointed pressure. You don’t know if you have another one in you, but just as the thought burrows into your intoxicated mind you can already feel that gathering warmth in the lower part of your abdomen…except… Something is happening, that feeling of orgasmic pleasure bubbling up in your core is similar, but different. 
“Do ya want me ta stop?” he asks with his mouth full, prompted at the feeling.
You whimper pathetically through the tears spilling from the corners of your eyes; as overwhelming as it is, there is no way in hell you can let him stop now. “No,” you say pitifully as you try to push his head back down tighter against you, “don’t, don’t. Please…oh fuck, fuck!!”
“Good girl,” he growls as he dives right back in like he hasn’t already had you twice now.  
It’s too much, the pressure is overwhelmingly too intense. A deep sense of release more extreme than any orgasm you’ve ever experienced leads to a gushing sensation from between your legs and you throw your head back as you squeal loud as ever as it just keeps coming. Your body shakes and twitches as everything you have is released onto his face for the last time.
“There ya go,” he praises in between breaths as he strokes you through it, stopping once you lay limply in his grip. “Ride it out for me.”
Legs shaking, chest heaving, eyes glazed over, cheeks flushed, Simon lowers you back down from his face and notices that his lap is wet and there is a markedly large wet stain soaking into the sheet under you both now. His face is just as coated and Simon is quick to realize what has happened. 
You can barely move at this point, but still turn your face back towards him to be met with a very happy and content man gazing back at you with those fiery auburn eyes as he wipes at the moisture covering face to clean it.
“Goddamn,” he says with a grin as he emerges from the same sheet he used before, “my pretty girl gettin’ so worked up she fuckin’ squirts on my face. Ya do know how ta fuckin’ treat me right, baby.”
You’ve never experienced anything quite like it before and are surprised that you are even able to do it in the first place, but if anyone could make you do it, it would be him. For a split second you feel a little self-conscious at this new development, but the way that Simon looks at you as if you have just hung the stars makes you giggle from the combination of nerves and adrenaline and settle back down.
He crawls back up the bed and drops down exhausted, but completely satisfied beside you and once he settles he reaches out to pull you into his steamy, heated embrace, skin to skin against his chest. His hand cradles the back of your head as he simply gazes into your eyes until your breathing slows and only then does he finally go in to kiss the last part of you he has left to claim.
His lips meet yours softly, but with the entirety of his passion for you. This is his little slice of paradise that he cannot help but feel lucky to have. Out of all the shit he’s had to deal with in his life, he found you and that means something to him. That’s why things like this he will never mind doing, not for you. Not if it’s to keep you satisfied. 
“Ya know, ya make it so fuckin’ hard for me ta leave,” Simon sighs quietly against your lips as the backs of his coarse fingers caress the delicate skin of your cheek in featherlike strokes. “I gotta make it just as hard for ya. Cause I’m gonna miss ya like hell. Still got two days left; gonna make ‘em count, sweetheart.”
Oh, he will… he definitely will. He always does.
5K notes · View notes
sh1-n0bu · 5 months
Text
♡︎ 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮 𝙢𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙖 ♡︎
characters: priest!sub!blade x demon lord!nb!dom!reader
warnings: breeding, creampie, eating out, fingering, squirting, monsterfucking, consensual non-con, dirty talk, feminization (like literally), lactating, nipple stimulation, overstimulation, dacryphilia, size kink, belly bulge, cervix kissing, blade is a demon hunting priest, reader is a demon lord so they can choose whether to have a cock or pussy so basically genderfluid reader???? also reader changes blade’s anatomy to have a pussy and womb — it’s so messy okay😭😭
word count: 4.4K
notes: you KNOW shit is getting real when nobu starts word count. never thought i would be writing a bit of a dark-ish content yet here we are. the power of the horny😔 also inspired by my chat with one of ririshizu’s bots
special thank you to @theblades and @yenaakwyl for proofreading a whole damn 14 pages of filth
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being a priest is no laughing matter. especially when you’re the type of priest that hunts and gets rid of demons who somehow ended up with a demon lord clinging to you, who’s constantly at your side, asking you questions about the human realm.
what was up with you, anyways? a literal demon lord, one of the lords of a deadly sin and yet here you were, dragging him around the streets, pointing at random things, wanting to sample every street food there were. sure, your human form was incredibly deceiving. a short, sweet human, clinging to his arm, excitedly pointing at the many different things that caught your attention. it would be hard for anyone to think of you as a demon lord in disguise.
except for blade. he’s been in this field of work for such a long time. constantly vanquishing demons who either were too annoying or possessed a poor, curious soul. the sharp edge of his shard sword is no laughing matter.
but you didn’t seem to mind. this demon lord, acting like a curious puppy, pulling him to each sides of the streets — ignoring the loud angry shouts of the car drivers and the constantly thinning of his wallet of course. not that blade had much to worry when it came to financial freedom. putting his life on the line and vanquishing demons from the human realm pays a generous amount.
it felt wrong to allow you to cling to him. you, a demon lord, no matter what your disguises meant or whatever pathetic excuse you came up with of wanting to sample human food. he should have gotten rid of you sooner yet no matter how much his hands twitch to unsheathe his shard sword, he just can’t seem to do it. no matter what his threats may seem or be heard of, the priest just can’t bring himself to harm you. if anything, he finds himself doing the absolute opposite, to his blatant horror.
“wait, no, don’t do that. the water just boiled so it’s hot, it could burn your tongue”
“you do realize that ice isn’t meant to be eaten, right? no, i don’t care how much of a pretty shape it’s in or if it still has the aftertaste of the coffee”
“if you eat too much raw red pepper, you could have a heart stroke. 14 is enough on one sitting. give it here”
yes, you get the point. a priest vanquishing demon, living together with a demon lord and even protecting them. hypocritical, right?
one night, as you two were cuddling on the couch and absentmindedly watching cliche horror movies that has demons with red skin and horns and a tail, that reminded something to blade. demons have unique demon forms depending on their sins and ‘birth’. but you never once showed an ounce of your demon form. not even a single slip-up.
“hmm? why do you ask? curious?” you hum softly, taking another fistful of the popcorn in the bowl. not that blade minded. if anything, he unconsciously pushed the bowl of popcorn closer to you.
“i guess so. you never even spoke of your demon form whether it has a tail or not” the priest mumbles, his husky voice turning softer just for a moment. or maybe he was just sleepy, judging by his dark eye-bags and little yawns.
oh right, you never did. but then again, blade never asked of your demon form before so, it’s to be expected after all.
just as blade had shrugged off your silence and turned his attention back to the tv, he felt something slithering around his waist. swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, he briefly looks down at what was wrapping around his waist. there, snug around his hips was a long, pale white, scaled, snake-like tail. it seemed incredibly long, judging by how it easily wrapped around his hips few times and the rest was just dangling off of the side of the couch.
was this…?
he could feel his hand twitch. itching, something under his skin itching of wanting to reach down and run his hand over the smooth looking scales of the tail.
pat! pat pat!
before blade could even make sense of what the fuck he just did, his hand had unconsciously unraveled from it’s former crossed position. one hand going down, flattening his palm over the smooth, large tail before giving it a few pats. at the same time, he could hear another low pat pat! sounds coming from the side of the couch. must be your tail ends flicking and hitting against the couch, he deducted.
briefly, blade steals a glance at your face. still watching the movie on the TV, seemingly paying no mind to the feeling of his human hand resting over your tail. it was oddly warm to the touch. from the look of it resembling a snake like tail, he expected it to be cold.
slowly, he runs his hand over the scales. soft, smooth and easily gliding over them as if it was nothing. sure, some bumps are felt on the palm of his hand but other than the occasional little ridges, it was completely smooth. how… soothing.
blade doesn’t know how or when but over the course of time you spent at his apartment, these little moments of playing with your tail had become a normal occurrence. little moments of “affection” if you will. fridays had become the weekly movie nights. blade would put on some random horror movie that you chose to be the most interesting based on the summary of the movie. half an hour or so into the movie and blade would feel the familiar scales of your tail wrap around his hips.
the priest would sometimes toy with your tail in hopes of getting you to show your true color of being a demon lord. to make you angry. to make you snap and finally show your true colors. if anything, it had the complete opposite effect as your tail only tightened around him. low, deep rumbling sounds akin to a purr coming from the depths of your chest.
briefly, the priest would catch himself wondering how it would feel to lay his head on your chest as you purr. cats have de-stressing and soothing qualities to their purrs. would demons be the same? sometimes, he would even catch himself thinking of… sacrilegious things. like how your tail would feel wrapped around his legs, opening him up for you. how your form could shapeshift and could have a human male’s anatomy. would you purposefully make it big? would you force it past his twitching rim, uncaring of his whines and pleads to wait?
ah, but that sounded so unlike you. despite being a demon lord, you have been nothing but calm and peaceful with blade. soft hums, nods of agreement, always needing his help and inquiring him of his thoughts on something.
then, would you coax him? whispering soft reassurances in the shell of his ear as you softly push your cock inch by inch inside him. a large, clawed, inhuman hand running over his stomach, talking about all sorts of things, promising to breed him full of your seeds as he cries. opening his legs wide with your tail wrapped around his thighs, wiping away his tears as he cries so prettily?
“f-fuck…” unknowingly, blade found himself with a little problem. another movie night, another time spent together ‘cuddling’. yet due to his own thoughts, blade finds himself embarrassingly hard. shit, he needed to find a way to leave the room and take care of his problem. but your tail way starting to curl around him in loops, just like how a snake would wrap itself around it’s prey.
did you know? know of his raging hard on and was just teasing him now? no. taking a brief glance at your face caused blade to come to a conclusion that you didn’t know. yet. that was the biggest part. or maybe you did considering just how your tail was moving around his waist. slipping under the hem of his shirt, slipping up, curling around his body under his shirt. scale coming in contact with skin. blade almost let out a moan at the feeling if it weren’t for him biting down on his lips.
“[n-name], get your tail off. i need to use the bathroom” internally cursing himself out for stuttering, blade can only hope that you would oblige. gods, just the way you let out a soft “hmm?” while playing innocent, smiling at him and blinking like nothing happened while your tail curls around his skin.
fuck, he was done for. you knew. you fucking knew.
“are you sure? your body seems to react positively from the amount of human interaction that i’ve had until now, blade” the end of your tail circles around his peck. slowly trailing the end as if you were going to squeeze—
“n-ngaah?!” a surprised noise comes from the priest’s mouth before he clenches his jaws shut, brows furrowing together as he tries to ignore the feeling on his chest. soft and slow circles. the end of your tail was wrapped around his nipple, pulling and rolling it between as if it was nothing. shit, when did his chest get so sensitive?
“oh that was a cute sound. do it again” you hum, turning away from the TV and looking at him now. curse you for looking so damn interested and curious as your tail fondles his nubs. blade can feel his pants starting to form a wet patch as his breathing becomes more labored.
“t-take… your goddamn tail off. i swear, i’ll ghh—! chop it into pieces…!” despite his best efforts, his words had no bite. just weak mumblings of a pathetic excuse of a priest being turned on as a literal demon lord tugs at his nipple. he was even starting to quietly whine in place as he tries to swallow down his moans.
“say, blade. i read from somewhere that human chest can lactate when stimulated enough. can you lactate?” blade almost shrieked at your words. lactating? him? while it was true that human women can lactate if they gave birth, he was unsure about men being able to lactate.
“n-no! can’t! i’m a man, it’s impossible for my chest to produce mi—ungh!” his words die quickly in his throat when your tail clenched around his nipple tightly. pulling on it, familiar to a pinching motion. since when did his body get so sensitive like this? or was this all your doing? did you secretly put a spell on him to make him sensitive?
“stop..! [n-name] stop ooungh! please, stop! i’m telling you, i’m a man. i can’t lactate like a woman!” his pleads fall on deaf ears as you slip his shirt off over his head. instead this time, using your hands to knead and fondle his pecks. squeezing, rolling his sensitive nubs between your fingers, even tugging on them. it all got blade letting out uncharacteristic high pitched noises like a cat in heat.
“p-please… stop this, [name]..” blade trails off, red in the face, shame, embarrassment and arousal swirling in his stomach like a hot bubbling lava as he admits defeat and whines helplessly.
“then wriggle yourself out of my tail. it’s loose around you, bladie” you briefly retort as you suckle on his nipple. mouth latched to his chest, biting and planting wet kisses all around his soft pink areola. as weak as his whimpers and pathetic his begging were, he really wasn’t making a single attempt to pull back. you have given him enough chances even now as your tail stays loose around him. yet he still tries to act like he hates it.
switching between giving attention to his two nipples with blade not even thinking of pulling himself out of your tail, the movie plays in the background, long forgotten. you were determined to make this weird human of yours lactate. you can make him!
it didn’t took much longer until blade let out a yelp as a warm liquid drops in your mouth. the taste oddly sweet and a bit thick in texture. realizing that his chest was feeling much more heavier and nipples felt more wetter than before, the priest’s eyes widen in horror and arousal. did you really managed to stimulate him enough to make him lactate?
“oh? so, i was right! humans can lactate regardless of their gender” you let out a soft giggle, internally cheering as a bright smile comes across your face. the sheer amount of exuberance you showed in his lactation had caused blade to feebly attempt to cover his chest.
“don’t! don’t look… it’s embarrassing…” the man whines, shaking hands covering up his leaking nubs. but that proves to be futile as his hands covering his chest had caused him to twitch. everything felt so much and so little at the same time. his poor cock was neglected and weeping, staining his pants as you stimulate his nipples as he whines.
this wasn’t supposed to happen! he wasn’t supposed to be this sensitive to your touches.
but the leaking of his milk had seemed to cause something to stir in your chest. an odd sense of possessiveness and need to claim him growing in your heart, tugging at it. laying your palm flat against his stomach, you rub slow circles onto it. somehow, it had helped to lessen blade’s embarrassment.
“bladie, how would you feel if i were to make you my baby momma?” your voice cuts him out of the trance like state he was in. blinking his eyes a few times with a weak “huh?” as if he hadn’t heard you. with a quiet chuckle, you ask again. repeating the question to him slowly in case he was too pleasure driven.
baby momma? but that’s something that people refer to when women get pregnant right? were you referring to making him pregnant? but that was impossible! he was a man and men had different anatomy compared to women’s!
“i can use a few spells. you would have a female anatomy. but only if you wish to be my baby momma. i would take good care of you and the kids, we’d be together as a cute family. don’t you think we’d be a cute family, blade?” he could briefly hear you hum. but the rest of your words flew over his head since the female anatomy part.
a female anatomy. blade would have a pussy, a womb, cervix the perfect anatomy to get pregnant. he would be a cute baby momma. your baby momma. and he would carry your kids. a child who was half you and half him, a cute bundle of sunshine.
“please… please do. make me your baby momma. i wanna be your b-baby momma..!” blade nods frantically, not even bothering to think over the consequences too deeply. but the prospect of having your kids, of having you inside him got blade rubbing his thighs together, head spinning with all sorts of thoughts as his breathing becomes labored. you said you would take good care of him and the kids! he’ll be in good hands.
although a part of his brain was screaming at him, telling him to withdraw from the touch of your palm running over his stomach, changing his insides, blade could only sit there dumbly. a baby. a cute baby that you two made together. it would be so sweet, so cute. blade couldn’t wait any longer as he silences the logical part of his brain. all he wanted was you now. just you and nothing else.
the process didn’t take long. a few strokes of your hand and soothing whispers to his ear and it was done. or at least, from what you said. and oh fuck, was it true. when you tugged his pants and boxers off, what greeted both of your eyes was a slick pussy, dripping with arousal. seeing how you had successfully changed him, the priest lets out a weak whine, closing his legs to hide himself.
you didn’t seem to like that. clicking your teeth as your tail wraps around his leg, pulling his legs apart and allowing your hungry eyes to feast on his dripping cunt. blade couldn’t help his whine as the feeling of being so empty took place in his head. or was it inside his womb that he felt so empty?
“so sweet. you would look so cute with my cum dripping out of you” you mutter, running a finger up his wet pussy. the action got his hips twitching, trying to make you push your finger inside himself. tutting softly, reminding him to be patient, you slowly ease a finger in. oh gods, the stretch felt so good. so full and filled already despite it being just a single finger that was now slowly massaging his plush walls.
the soft whines and gasps coming out of blade turns into a moan as he throws his head back on the couch. long, navy hair spreading over the mattress as your fingers scissor him open. you would have expected him to be more… reclusive considering his usual act. perhaps you were wrong. the way that blade was throwing his head back, moaning without shame as his warm walls suck your fingers in greedily caused you to almost mistaken him for a virgin. or maybe he was just touch starved. poor thing.
cooing words of how he was doing good, how his gushy cunt was sucking in your fingers so prettily, you lean down to pepper kisses on his clit. long, forked tongue coming out momentarily to slip inside him with your fingers, constantly flicking his clit. the action caused to have made him oversensitive. strong, scarred thighs coming up to wrap around your head, a hand fisting at your locks as loud, pathetic whines of “c-can’t! feelss sho weird! [n-name], can’t—gyuuck! aanh aah♡︎!!” trails off into a high pitched whines as his hips jerk. legs clamping around your head in a vice grip, fisting at your locks tightly as his back arches off of the couch so prettily as he squirts in your mouth. ah right, in your own haze, you’ve forgotten and accidentally pushed your tongue in too far, hitting his g-spot.
well, that was fine. the cold priest sounded so cute and tasted delicious as he twitches under you. it would be fine to fuck him open with your tongue and prepare him thoroughly.
blade doesn’t know what to think anymore. was he even able to think? all he could do was to moan and shriek, trashing about on the bed as something deep and long slithers inside him. his cunt was being fucked open, wet sounds coming out as he gushes all over your mouth, tongue and chin. fluids dribbling down to your chin as you continue to force his legs open with your tail, arms wrapped around his waist and pulling him back into your mouth and fingers.
by the time you thought of him as prepped enough and pull your tongue and fingers out, blade could only weakly whine at the feeling of something pulling out of his warm insides. legs shaking, face flushed as dried tear stains cover his cheeks. his pretty red eyes looked so hazy, mind filled with cotton and statics. you haven’t even gotten to the main part yet!
blade feels something wrap around him. something bigger, warmer and gentle. clawed hands wrapping around his slender waist, pulling him against a massive frame. was this… was he on your real form right now?
tilting his head back to look at you, his hunch proves to be correct. no longer were you in your small human disguise. large, pale white figure with horns, tail and claw holding him in a safe cocoon in it’s embrace. despite having deep hatred against your kin, the priest couldn’t bring himself to hate you. instead, he oddly found your real form beautiful.
“huh…?” his thought gets cut off short when he feels something poke at his entrance. looking down, a sharp gasp escapes him. by the gods were you huge. girthy and long, thick with need and ready to fill him to the brim with your seeds. blade wasn’t sure if he could take such a large thing inside himself as he instinctively shut his legs close.
almost as if sensing his inner worries, you place a hand over his stomach, other hand spreading his legs wider to make it easier for you to slip in.
“don’t worry, pet. i’ll make sure it fits” your deeper, almost inhuman voice hums right beside his ear, sending shivers down his spine. although your words were soothing, the large tip of your cock pushing past his walls, opening his cunt wider was definitely not comforting. fuck, just the tip inside and blade was already thrashing about, shaking his head and stuttering out how he can’t fit it inside him.
“w-wait! w-won’t hhgh fit! ish too big! too bigtoobigtoobig—! m-my lo—oough! aanh! ish t-too fu-uck! big♡︎♡︎” the human squeals, cries, sobs and moans. loud lecherous noises coming from both his mouth and cunt. wet noises flooding the room alongside the low grunts and deep growls. you sounded inhumane, you felt inhumane but blade loved it all the more. the priest loved being spread open by your large cock, pushing past his hole, feeling his plushy walls and insides. ah, he could die happily filled to the brim like this.
finally, after long minutes of slowly easing yourself inside, you managed to fit your cock inside him. snug to the brim, tip kissing his cervix and making blade squeal. legs shaking and twitching, he came on your cock again at the feeling of your tip kissing his cervix. he saw that you were big but not this big! gods, he felt so damn full.
“so pretty, my mate. so full of me and i haven’t even fucked you properly yet” you grunt, deep, inhumane voice breathing by his ear and making him shake and twitch in your grasp like a sweet fawn. blade wouldn’t mind being a sacrificial lamb to you.
through tear stained eyes and blurry vision, he could make out the faint outline of your cock in his stomach. you were too big to the point your were causing a bulge inside him by just slipping your cock inside. how full would he feel after you have properly made him a baby momma? cunt weeping out a mixture of your cum, belly bulging so cutely. just the imagination of such action made blade buck his hips weakly. too fucked out to even utter a word.
feeling the pathetic excuse of movement of your cock, you let out a low laugh. tail wrapped around one of his legs, the other held open by your hand as you finally bounce him on your cock. slowly, slipping yourself in and out and yet the priest in your hand was sobbing as he blabbers deliriously about being fucked dumb on your cock. of having your babies inside his own womb. of being your sweet mate.
blade was a big guy. in human terms and physique wise, he was big. and yet in your lap, held open by your hands, back to your chest as he allows himself to be dumbed down on your girth made blade realize just how damn small he was compared to you. sure, he was big in human terms but compared to you, he was absolutely nothing. just a small hole for you to use. a fleshlight to be filled with your cum until you were satisfied. your baby momma to have his chest fondled and squeezed until his chest grows sore and heavy. milk leaking out it small globs from his sensitive pink nipples.
“my pet. my cute mate. my sweet other half. my adorable breeding bitch uhng… so fucking tight. so warm and tight like the cute little thing you are” blade could briefly hear you groan, heavy breaths falling on his neck, making him shiver at each breaths. making him cry and moan in a shrill voice like a girl each time your cock slid inside him. plunging deeper into parts he never knew before, grazing that one soft spot that made him shriek, tip hitting his cervix at each thrust. blade was so sure that it was bruised now. not that he minded it, the pain felt good to him.
“y-yours—! yours yours yours! your c-cute ma—aaanhg! aaanh haagh gyaaamf♡︎ y-your mate. your oouungh other half. y-your adorable♡︎ breeding bitch—!” blade’s mouth fell open in a silent scream, head throwing back to your shoulder when he felt your hand press on the bulge in his stomach. it felt good. so good that he immediately squirted on your cock again at the sheer pleasure the pressure brought.
but of course you wouldn’t stop. you would keep going, forcing his small body to bounce on your cock, occasionally tweaking his nipples, rolling his clit between your fingers. you were damn adamant on making him pregnant, breed him until you were damn sure he was knocked up.
he was yours. your human. your mate. your fated other half. your cute breeding bitch and you would be damned all over again if he ends up not getting pregnant by the time you’re done. blade was yours. no one else would ever take him away from you. no one. no one no one no one, no one else—
“AAANGH! M-MY LORD♡︎ c-cock giick! sho full…” the human shrieks and twitches in your grasp, legs weakly thrashing around as you finally cum deep inside him. the warmth of your seed spurting inside his gummy walls, painting his insides white causing blade to cum again. blade felt so full, the skin of his stomach stretching a bit to accommodate to the great amount of cum that was inside him. it felt so warm and sticky. messy, as it dribbles down your shaft, his small human body unfit to keep it all inside himself.
“my cute mate…” you purr softly, arms wrapping around your mate as he twitches and shakes. cheeks stained with old and new tears, jaws slack with drool dribbling down with his face as red as his eyes. he was yours now. blade was your human now. the weird priest was yours and no one would ever take him away from you.
“mine” with that final declaration, you placed a soft kiss to the crown of his head. he seemed to relax at the kiss, sinking against your chest as he black out. that was fine. you’ll make sure to breed him again once he wakes up.
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yzzart · 5 months
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Love your Tom blyth fics an unhealthy amount!!! I’m picturing reader and Tom being all lovey dovey at the premiers but playing it off as really good bestfriends UNTIL she goes to kiss him on the cheek and in instinct he turns his head to kiss her on the lips so they just say fuck it and hard launch there and then x
"An unplanned situation."
pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader
summary: a small gesture, with a sweet intention, revealed a promising secret.
word count: 1.359!
notes: i started this request in the morning and only had the opportunity to finish it a few minutes ago, forgive me for that, anon! — i hope you like it and of course, feel free to share ideas with me!
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"Y/N, look here!"
Another request, among others, screams and countless flashes, was directed to you; being, theoretically, almost impossible to identify who had demanded your image. — There were so many voices mixing, not to mention the music in the background, but, you tried your best to pay attention to most of the cameras.
However, it wasn't anything you weren't used to; something that has already been normalized in your life.— And during the premiere of The ballad of songbirds and snake it was no different, and it was splendid; simply perfect. — Not to mention, the feeling of gratitude that grew in your chest.
Cameras and cell phones captured your every movement, your poses and the way your perfectly chosen dress was valued and highlighted on your body. — And how it matched the color palette of the film. — Everything was being recorded, at the exact moment, posted and commented on all social networks.
You had the opportunity to meet, talk and take photos with some of the cast. — It was so pleasant, the company and unity that everyone developed during the filming of the film was inexplicable and so adorable; you were grateful to have worked with so many talented people. — There were some people who were absent, until now, in your eyes, but you would definitely meet them again on the carpet.
And, of course, your eyes roamed the decorated room, matching the elements of the film, and crowded in search of a specific person. — It wasn't exaggerated words to say that you were starting to feel uncomfortable because he was missed; and the cameras recorded it. — Silent questions, which would be written, formed in the minds of the presenters and photographers.
Your boyfriend had yet to appear on the red carpet; perhaps he is giving a quick and curious interview or greeting someone. — That's what was going on in your head.
You and Tom had a secret relationship, ever since you met behind the scenes, in front of the world and all the cameras that may exist in it; something that was so risky and at the same time adventurous. — And that, as incredible as it might seem, you knew how to disguise it in front of your fans; even though they gradually became suspicious with comments, interactions and behind-the-scenes photos.
They were either smart or you and Tom were too far over the line. — This question was not important or essential for the moment. — And you considered each other best friends for interviews or responses to comments; you tried your best.
And so, Rachel sent countless screenshots of tweets, which talked about or mentioned the relationship between you and Tom, to you. — It's impossible to deny how funny it was.
Persisting in continuing to look for him and for a few seconds, your eyes meet his blue and so charming irises. — Its shade of blue was a magnificent and beautiful combination; something you would never get tired of admiring. —And there was no other thing, or anyone, that could take his eyes off you.
As if the only thing that mattered at that moment was you. — And everything around him simply disappeared.
"There you are!" — Tom walked towards you, easily as there weren't so many people on the carpet, and an enthusiastic smile forming on his lips; also accompanied by cameras and intense flashes. — "And so beautiful!"
Holding a part of your long and dazzling dress so as not to hinder your steps, you met him, and without wasting any time, hugged him. — A common gesture, and not so different or strange, for the spectators; so, you thought. — Tom's arms went around your waist, holding your protectively for a little while, while your arms positioned themselves around his neck.
Tom's fragrance, which you liked so much, filled your nose; it felt so good, and you felt your eyes weaken, contaminated by it. — And the british man was aware of that.
"You look perfect, always." — The older man distanced himself, just a little, and brought his face closer to your ear, wanting only you to hear. — "The most beautiful woman that has ever crossed my eyes." — The lenses probably captured a reddish pigmentation on your cheeks and it was not part of your makeup.
You placed one of your hands on his chest, and looking directly into his eyes; that shone at you, and it wasn't just because of the influence of the lights in your direction. — Tom's gaze was sincere, and passionate, intensely fascinating you. — He conveyed what he felt most with just his eyes.
And that was one of the facts about him that you were passionate about and recognized very well.
"Oh, shut up!" — Raising your hand and resting it a little away from your mouth, you laughed a little embarrassed and looked back at the cameras; remembering that they remained there and you knew that later you would see your interaction with Tom on some social media.
Again, a thing and situation you were used to.
"Look at that camera!" — A voice mingled among others, which requested the same request, asking you to take some photos together; something that would feed news, fans and press.
At no point, minute or second, did you and Tom remain distant or apart from each other; always a few steps close, hugging each other for photos and certain looks, completely indiscreet. — Even during brief interviews, as Blyth mentioned you or your character's work, you were silently watching. — One of the interviewers even commented on how cute she thought it was.
Tom's hand was on your waist, holding and almost covering you, making a quick caress in a few seconds and one of your hands was still resting on his chest; and you continued, of course, to be the focus of the cameras.
Quickly, with the intention of changing your pose and trying something new and also to take advantage of the fact that Blyth's face was almost close to yours, you decide to place your pigmented lips on his cheeks. — Such a cute and friendly gesture, and so common. —But, automatically and hastily, Tom turned his face away at the same time, without having in mind what you were, in fact, planning. — God, it was a shock; an absurd and completely intense shock.
For the first time that night, in that place and on those cameras, your lips touched Tom's lips. — It was very quick, good and surprising; and that definitely left a cold, freezing air in your belly accompanied by a desperate feeling in your mind. — Rumor has it that smoke was coming out of his head. — It was a peck, a quick and simple kiss.
When you separated, hurriedly, your eyes met Tom's once again; who were a little wide-eyed, expressing surprise. — Looking for something to say or do, just like you. — And you watched his lips curve into an almost smile, as if he was trapping him.
Shouts of enthusiasm and some possible whistles echoed throughout the immense place, along with some looks and expressions of surprise at what had happened. — And some people were worried if they had recorded the exact moment, of course. — Your fans were probably commenting frantically about what happened.
You really didn't know what to do but at no point did you move away from your boyfriend — now, official to the public — and keep your hand on his chest; as if it were, in fact, planned.
"A nice way to reveal it, huh?" — Tom laughed, relaxed and without a feeling of discomfort or uneasiness, he still had his hand on your waist; and he still squeezed you, then leaving you with another caress. — "I think." — He didn't look at the cameras, his orbits focused only on you.
They have always focused on you, regardless of what is actually happening; and that will never change.
"A nice way to reveal." — You repeated your words, but, as an affirmation and certainty; maybe, seeing how relieved Tom was, and not showing some kind of distress, your chest calmed down and you felt safe.
And soon, you and Tom became one of the most talked about topics on social media.
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headspace-hotel · 1 year
Text
nature things that a lot of people don't know about and weren't even taught about adequately, but they're actually really fundamental and important to know about
how rivers work. Where do they get started? how do they decide which way to flow?? what makes one river muddy and the other one clear?
[They flow downhill. Always. If a river is flowing a Way, that way is Downhill. They start with rain flowing or soaking downhill until it forms into a little trickle through a channel like a gully or drainage ditch, and the farther it flows the more other trickles flow into it from the land around it, until you have a stream, and the streams all flow downhill until they run into each other, and eventually you have a river which finally reaches the ocean. Rivers never flow FROM the ocean because the ocean is the most downhill you can possibly go. I don't think rivers usually split in two—a fork in a waterway is usually two rivers joining together.]
[On the subject of pollution, rain is usually supposed to soak slowly through the layer of leaves, roots, and dead plant material that covers most biomes. But if you tear up the plants and leave bare mud, or replace a forest with a muddy cow pasture, there's no filter, and mud and contaminants wash into the river. Just plain mud can be pollution.]
how soil works. What makes different soils different? Why are some soils good for growing a garden and others terrible? Does it need more fertilizer?
[The sand, silt, clay diagram is very simplified and only deals with one aspect of soil. Roots, soil animals, fungi, and dead plant material are all part of soil and affect its structure, making it spongy and full of holes and passages for nutrients, water, and new roots. Tilling can break hard soil, but tilling doesn't make soil light, fluffy, and permeable—disturbing the soil as little as possible, protecting it with a layer of plant material, and allowing the natural life forms of the soil develop their networks and tunnels and slowly break down the plant material layer does. This is also very simplified. Soil is COMPLICATED.]
what fungi are, and whether they are dangerous.
[fungi cannot harm you unless you eat them or unless they're growing inside your house and you're inhaling their spores in a concentrated space. There's like, one species in Japan that causes skin irritation. You can touch any other species without any harm whatsoever. *Most* of them don't harm your garden either—in fact, most plants connect their root systems to the fungal mycelium in the soil and receive nutrients from the fungus in exchange for the products of photosynthesis.]
Whether lichen harm trees
[no. They're just hanging out. But a LOT of lichen on a tree might be a sign that the tree is dying. It's not the lichen's fault though.]
What moss is??
[it's a plant, but a very simple plant that doesn't have any vessels for transporting water, so it has to live somewhere damp and soak it up like a sponge. There are hundreds of species of moss, and different species live on the side of a boulder vs. the top, or a living tree trunk vs. a fallen dead tree trunk!]
where bugs go in the winter? I straight up had a book as a kid that told me that they just die, without explaining how the species doesn't go extinct if the winter kills them all.
[Tl;dr they're usually hibernating in fallen leaves and dead wood and plant material. Some do this as eggs or larvae/caterpillars; in this case the adults do die, but their children sleep peacefully through the winter to awake in the spring. And still others hibernate as adults. This is why you don't clean up your flower beds until late spring.]
How Many plants there are
[WAY more than you think]
How ecosystems work apart from "everything is out to get everything else and take resources from other organisms."
[Competition and cooperation are both important in ecosystems! Weeds are competitive and they can choke out other plants, but they also protect the soil from erosion and harsh sunlight, keeping it moist and helping organic matter to build up. A lot of plants, when they're young, need to be sheltered by other plants that protect them from dryness, heat, and herbivores. This isn't even getting into how some plants will send nutrients to seedlings or to understory plants in a forest! Before industrial agriculture made monocultures dominant, people used and were familiar with cooperative relationships between plants a LOT more.]
The range of creatures that are pollinators, and how important the variety is.
[Bees, wasps, butterflies, moths, flies, ants, beetles, hummingbirds, and bats are all pollinators, and flowers are usually shaped and colored and scented to attract particular pollinators. Bees can't do everything, and honey bees are only one kind of bee. Red flowers and long tube shaped flowers are often for hummingbirds, pale-colored flowers that open at night need moths, and flowers that give off strong foul odors often attract flies. It gets WAY more complicated than that—sometimes a flower is only pollinated by a single species of bee or wasp or beetle.]
How many bees there are besides honey bees
[LOTS. And you've probably never seen most of them, if you don't regularly spend time around native plants! There are 140 species of longhorn bee alone, and most people haven't even heard of longhorn bees! There are well over a hundred bumble bees too! Bees come in bright, metallic green, blue, and pure gold. In the USA where I live, some of the most endangered bees are the adorable, fluffy bumble bees—the American Bumble Bee is threatened, and we have some species, like the rusty-patched bumble bee, that are critically endangered.]
[Please, please, please do not use pesticides on plants unless it is a necessity, and please do a LOT of research on the specific pesticide you are using and its effects on non-target insects. If there is any alternative, Do Not Do It. ESPECIALLY not pesticides that come in dust or powder form, ESPECIALLY in the USA, because regulations are so loose here that regular people can buy pesticides in dust form that are horribly toxic to bees.]
[How horribly toxic? A pesticide like Sevin dust will cling to the fuzz on every single bee that visits your plant—like pollen—and those bees will probably die. And in social bees, before they die, they will take the poison back to their hive (like pollen) and potentially kill the entire hive.]
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riseatlantisss · 8 months
Text
The end we start from
Pairing : Astarion x female!reader/Tav Around 1,8 words Takes place after the events in Cazador's palace in act 3 (non-ascended Astarion, established relationship) Angst with a happy ending (and loooots of sex) <3
Astarion doesn’t feel good enough. you show him he’s everything.
TW : 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex, very angry/angsty/rough sex, fingering, mature language, mentions of death and depression, mentions of blood
A/N : when i don’t work, i do two things: i take care of my dog and i play BG3. i don’t eat. i don’t sleep. i don’t socialize. i just play BG3. and I write stuff about *him*.
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Astarion is many things. Quiet is not one of them. But lately, that’s all he’s been, and you’ve been worrying about him night and day. Tonight is no exception. You wake up in the middle of the night and realize two things : not only is Astarion’s side of the bed empty but the sheets and pillows are untouched, uncrumpled. His side hasn’t been slept in. This isn’t right. Of course, he doesn’t really need to sleep but he always, always lays next to you at night, spooning you, playing with your hair and whispering sweet I love yous in your ear until you fall asleep. His absence means something’s off. Unable to shake off the anxiety, you get up in one swift motion, determined to find him. No chance you’re falling back asleep now anyway.
Your bare feet hit the cold marble floor and you shiver as you make your way accros the bedroom in a hurry. You think of searching outside in case he went for a hunt, but it turns out you don’t have to look too far. There he is, silently leaning against the wall by the window, gazing into the pitch-black night of the Underdark. The light in the room is so dim that you couldn’t even spot him from your bed. You approach him and your heart breaks a little when you notice the lingering sadness in his crimson eyes, enhanced by the faint light of the burning candles next to him.
You want to ask him if he’s ok but it’s obvious he’s not so instead, you remain silent and close the space between the two of you, wrapping your arms around him and gently resting your head on his shoulder.
“What are you thinking about?” You ask softly after a while, your voice barely above a whisper.
Astarion averts his gaze and gives you a faint smile, nothing but a twist of lips.
“Nothing,” he replies. “I’m just being selfish, as usual. Forgive me, y/n.”
You frown and stare at him incredulously. “You’re not selfish,” you say, surprised at how intensely he means it. “Why would you even say that?”
“I –” He pauses, rethinks his words. This does nothing to make you less worried. “I caused you great pain,” he finally says. “I put you in danger. Repeatedly, ever since we met. You could have died a hundred times and it would have been my own, entire fault.”
You look up to him and feel a lump form in your throat. You have never seen him look like this – grief in his eyes and etched into the lines of his face.
“I’m not dead, Astarion. I’m right here with you.” You say as you wrap your arms around his neck. He makes a sound somewhere near a sob and your arms tighten.
“But I did put you in danger and now you’re stuck with me for eternity, in the middle of nowhere, and you—" Again, he stops. He’s bad at this, at talking about emotions. But he fights through it because it’s you. And nothing can be left unsaid between the two of you. Not after everything that’s happened. “You deserve so much better. You deserve the world, and I can’t give it to you.” You’re not sure where this conversation is going but you don't want to find out. His lower lip quiver but he goes on, words spilling out of him like blood from a wound. “I can’t give it to you, and I’ll never be able to forgive myself for it. It’s killing me all over again.” You crumble under each one of his words. His lips are trembling now and you can’t stand it. You can’t but you can’t do him the dishonor of looking away either.
“Astarion, I chose this life.” Your hands flutter to his face, each one cupping a cold cheek, forcing him to look at you. Your heart is pounding, and you know he can feel it. “I had a choice; I could stay, or I could run, and I chose you. I’m not stuck here. I’m home.”
Astarion heaves a faltering breath in an attempt at composure. “Sometimes I think you would be happier without me. Better off.” He barely mouths the words, but you hear them all distinctively, nonetheless. “You should go and leave me here. Walk in the sun. Be happy and live your life.” You draw your hands away from his face and he steps back, speaking louder now.
“It won’t get any better in here,” he continues, gesturing urgently around the room. “It’ll always be cold and dark, I’ll always be a blood-thirsty monster. I belong to the shadows, and I’ll never be able to make you happy, so you might as well just leave.”
His words knock the air out of your lungs and, for a moment, you cannot breathe. You feel your pulse pounding in your veins and blood thrumming under your skin as your heartbreak turns into anger. That fucking idiot, you think, looking up at him through eyes blurred with tears.
“You don’t know what makes me happy. You don’t,” you shout, surprised by the vehemence in your voice. "And you certainly don't get to speak for me." Astarion looks at you in such confusion that you almost feel bad for a moment, but you continue.
“You – you make me happy, Astarion, gods you do. I would rather live an eternity in the Underdark with you than one more day in the fucking sun.” Your heart is clenching in your chest, and you can feel the heat pooling in your cheeks. “By no means would I be better off, let alone happier, without you. I can’t believe that you could even think –” You trail off and sigh in frustration. You can’t bring yourself to scream at him any longer because that’s all he’s ever known before you, screams and shouts and abuse, and you can’t do this to him. But that doesn’t leave you with many options to get through to him. Astarion opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t let him.
Without warning you grab his shirt to pull him close and your lips crash into his, knocking the breath out of both of you with the force that you collide with. It only fuels your rage because the moment his lips are on yours, you can’t help thinking that you almost lost this once and you can’t actually lose it. You won’t let that happen. So you kiss him harder. It’s rough and desperate and sloppy. It's harsh breath and biting teeth.
He turns you around and backs you against the wall. You take it rather hard, but you welcome the sting. Anything to shut him up about not being good enough for you. He crowds in closer, presses you even harder against the wall, shoving his knee between your thighs. His cold lips connect to your throat, making you eagerly tilt your head to give him access to your thrumming pulse dancing at your neck. You have absolutely no qualms about it. If he wants it, it’s his.
But he doesn’t take it. Instead, his mouth sucks and licks, making you squirm and rock your hips against him. You cling to him, grabbing his shoulders and sliding your hands down his shirt and to his back. He hoists you up like you weighed nothing and you wrap both legs around his waist. You tangle your hands in his curly silver hair and pull him forward to feel that mouth on yours again. His tongue running over your lip makes you grind faster, searching for more, more, more. You moan when his hand reaches beneath your gown and through your damp underwear.
Firm, icy fingers are stroking you into madness. You make a sound that’s close to a whimper, but more like a groan, because damn it, you are so impatient now. You are clenching – aching to have him inside.
He is gasping at the feeling of your fluttering around him, and you must be gasping too, but you’re not sure; your head falls back and it feels like you’re breathing, but you could just as well be drowning.
You dig your nails hard into his back - you need to channel the anger into something. Maybe you’ll be the one drawing blood this time. You lean forward to rest your dizzy head on his shoulder and groan in anticipation. Not wasting anymore time, he pushes his hard, large cock into you, going steadily until he’s all the way in.
“Harder. Fuck me harder.” You plead and he obeys.
He sets a pace that graces all the right spots, spurred on the increasingly desperate noises escaping your mouth. This is no effort at all for him, holding you up easily and fucking you hard with determination. But you can see it when you rest your forehead against his – the sheer weakness you feel is reflected right back at you and you know he needs this just as much as you do.
You are so close. You need to concentrate on breathing, just so you simply don’t die. Your lower back thuds against the wardrobe with your oh gods and fucks singing in tandem. The vampire trails open-mouthed kisses and little bites down your neck while maintaining the almost vicious pace in and out of you. Every stroke curls and loves and breaks you into submission. You forget to be angry because your release is in his hands and your body is desperately handing itself over to him.
Your thighs start to quiver around him, the sounds of wetness and the feeling of his own explosion of pleasure deep inside you taking you so high that eventually, you shatter into him. You’re so grateful for the strength holding you up, so you can fall apart.
Your repeatedly moan his name on your way back to consciousness, lips brushing softly against his pale skin.
Before you know what is happening, you break into a sob.
“Please…. Please don’t ever tell me to leave, ever again.” You try to articulate, your voice shaking uncontrollably.
He sinks down onto his knees, holding you in his lap and whispering, “Shh,” into your ear.
“I’m so sorry,” he says, his voice is low and full of gravel. He never sounded so sweet. “I love you, always have and always will. And you’re not going anywhere.”
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evilminji · 3 months
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You know all those Cults in Gotham?
Bet at least ONE of them could spring for both a Legit Magic User and a Cloning pod.
Because The Wayne's? Hearts of Gold. Long standing pains in the asses. Probably the only thing standing between this gods forsaken wasteland of a city and Their Dark Lord. For GENERATIONS no less!
It's sooooo obnoxious!
So they want to Curse Um dead. Just a good ol fashioned bloodline curse. Destroy um from within, etc. BUT! To do THAT? You kinda need a blood relative to sacrifice!
And Bruce is... well... rather infamously An Orphan With No Biological Kids (at that point).
So? What do you do? Make one, obviously. You send in some of your own on a Holy Mission. Honeypot that playboy! Get us a kid to sacrifice! Our God will reward you etc! But... FFS! What? Are brunettes not your TYPE or something?! Pretty lady! Throwing herself at you!!
TAKE THE BAIT!
But he DOESN'T. Because he's both really used to that behavior, as The Wayne Heir and a False Playboy, AND because? He's fuckin Batman. He can see through your schemes.
Okay.
Okay!
Plan B!
Get us some DNA. We'll CLONE the sucker. That should be doable, right?
........OH COME ON! How?!
Batman: [REDACTED] / Cultists: 0
Fuck it! This is impossible! How are we supposed too... *eyes drift over to the Wayne Family Private Graveyard* .......Idea? Ideeeeaaaa~! Someone get us a shovel!
So they, cultist bastards that they are? Fuckin rob a grave for some DNA.
OBVIOUSLY though, it can't be one of the more RECENT graves! He probably VISITS those! Watches them! No we gotta be SNEAKY! Get one a bit further back! Mwahahahaha! We're so brilliant! Our God is gonna give us SUCH a Good Grade in follower!
A thing that is both REAL and possible to achieve!
So, while a Weirdly FURIOUS Batman? Is just... VIOLENTLY breaking ALL of their bones? Cultist 17 is furiously digging like his life depends on it. Either somebody snitched or Batman was hunting them down! Either way?
Gotta! Get! That! DNA!!! *digs faster*
Ah HA! Got it!
Fucking SCATTER! Run you fools, RUN!!! *everyone bolts*
And AT LAST! They have it! Wayne DNA! Now? Pop that sucker into the machine and make us a baby! Too sacrifice! *relieved noises* Man, that was hard work you guys. But we DID it!
Except??
Theoretical Babies? And "Real, slowly forming in front of me and becoming a human child" type babies? VERY DIFFERENT psychologically. It's ONE thing to sacrifice a HYPOTHETICAL baby... but when you're the guy running and monitoring the Cloning machine? Watching it slowly form and come together into... into a CHILD?
You start asking questions of yourself. Of God.
Of what, EXACTLY, you are willing to do.
What lines you find yourself unwilling to cross.
And yeah, your life was SHIT before the cult. Yeah, you were alone. Adrift. Without purpose. Angry at the world for all of its ugliness and failings. But... sitting, alone, in a dark room? Nothing but the steady hum of machines and the cool light of that pod? You are left with nothing but time... and your thoughts.
And the baby.
The one... the one YOU made.
Almost... he's almost like a son, in a way. Your son. Floating there, innocent and unknowing. Destined to be born, only to die painfully, for a cause he could not even begin to understand. Because he's too young. Too small. Just... just a baby.
The baby YOU made.
Doubt seeps in like mist. Creeping into the cracks forming in your faith. Surely there's another way, right? Why not save up for a better magician? Or... or hire a hitman? Why involve a child? Surely... surely your God would not WANT this, right? Or if He did! Surely, he would want the boy to be able to CHOOSE, right? A noble sacrifice, for the cause?
The pressure builds. Batman is tearing the city APART looking for your fellow Believers. Leadership is pressuring you to get "It" ready all ready.
He's not an "it".
They are dismissing your questions. Threatening and posturing, as you grapple with your faith. Where? Where is the COMMUNITY that you joined? The camaraderie? Every day, Believers are being torn down. The faith has lost so many!
How can this be WORTH it?
Your faith is slowly, cruelly, strangled in your chest. A death, by ten thousand silences, and ten thousand more cruelties.
Your son is ready.
You do not tell them.
The Clone of Bruce Wayne's great-grandfather is small, but healthy, in your arms. A tiny warm body, with a strong beating little heart. You call the police. Leave your phone, call running, on the desk. No one thinks to stop you, as you calmly walk out the back door.
Why would they doubt?
You are Faithful.
You drive. Pray to a God you have lost faith in, beg forgiveness for what you do now. Your beat up old junker of a car makes decent time, as you leave Gotham. Your son, asleep in a carefully made nest of blankets, on the seat next to you. You drive. You keep driving.
Past towns.
Past cities.
Out of the state.
Stopping only to feed your son and fuel your car. You... you can not bring yourself to care about what will happen to you now. You know they will find you. Know this is the end. But something ancient burns in your chest. A caring you never thought was REAL.
You are afraid.
But you will not let them harm your son.
Finally, a town. Far from Gotham. Quite and cheerful. It calls to you.
Here. It... it has to be here.
You find the hospital. Tears choking you. There is a place to drop of children. You've seen them before. How strange, that now you stand before it and HURT. Your arms not listening to your command. You... you have to do this. You HAVE too.
He is just a baby.
He is your son.
You have to keep him safe. And... and that can not be with you.
You gently put your baby boy into the drop off. Press the buzzer. And then? You make yourself walk away.
Get back in your car, and drive. The gun in your glove box will insure they can never pry from you, what you have done. Where he is. He is safe now. He has to be. You... you did your job. As his father. You made sure he was safe.
You can barely see the road, through your tears.
You take your secrets to the grave.
And Danny? He grows up. Is adopted young and never knows different. Both a Fenton and a Wayne. Knowing only one of these, to be his. But... that Wayne? Was a damn fine man. A pillar of his community and a champion of the people.
Got tossed more then a few blessings, in his life.
They weren't the STRONGEST. But they added up. And more importantly? Were hardly the refined magics of the more powerful. They were cast onto "Him". By blood and bone, more often then not. Which was all well and good!
When there was only ONE of "Him".
Cloning technology did not exsist. So why would you word carefully against it? Danny becomes a VERY lucky boy. Survives many things he should not. In fact, the kindness and hard work of his original? Gifted back in magically powered well wishes? By this, he survives something NO ONE could possibly expect him too.
It saves his life.
His template would be quite pleased, knowing that. That his life of good deeds, saved the life of the child he never got a chance to meet. That it protected his children, from even beyond death.
And in Gotham? At long, long last. The program Bruce made in his helplessness and despair, to search EVERY child until the child made of his bloodline was found? Spits out a match.
A Watchtower engineer.
Daniel J. Fenton.
@hdgnj @hypewinter @lolottes @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @mutable-manifestation
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