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#and how the fur thing is literally just balanced
the-blaze-empress · 1 year
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so id say my crowfather closet cosplay turned out. pretty well, especially considering it’s 90% held together with safety pins and also has literally none makeup bc my phil makeup takes an hour to get on and half an hour to get off
please ignore how messy both my mirror and shelves are, im currently in the process of moving across the country
please reblog <3
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roguerogerss · 7 months
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Show You How Much I Love You
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Pairing: Michael Gray x Reader
W/C: 3.5k
Warnings: SMUT!!, the second half is just sex, bit of a praise kink, talk of injuries and blood (not related to the smut!)
Description: After Michael gets shot, you’ve been visiting him in the hospital every day. He has a realisation on his last day there, and when you get home, he shows you how much he’s missed you.
(took a lil break from writing tommy all the time - he will be back! promise! - and did a lil spin for michael. i’ve been OBSESSED with both of them recently. so proud of the smut in this bc it’s literally only my second full on smut!!! let me know what u think babes! b back with tommy shtuff sooooon)
You hated the hospital. The building always smelled of antiseptic, slightly bitter, but with the added scent of artificial fragrance contained in soaps and cleaning products. And what was worse, the smell would linger on your clothes and in your hair, even hours after you'd left, and you'd have to bathe after every time you visited, to avoid going to bed smelling like death.
"Morning, Miss L/N." The nurses had gotten to know you over the last five weeks, and they'd always greet you when you came to visit. As much as you hated the hospital, and it's smell, the nurses made your visits very slightly more bareable.
"Good morning, Margaret." You sighed, smoothing your hair down and fixing the fur collar of your coat. "How is he, today?"
"He's had some great news today, ma'am. I think you'll be delighted." Margaret smoothed a hand over your back and then hurried off, the nurses were always on the run. You wondered what news your boyfriend could possibly have gotten that would've delighted you, considering all you'd had the past five weeks was more death, upset, and terrible news.
You climbed the stairs, still fussing over your hair, and your coat, and pulling out a small, pocket mirror to fix your lipstick in. You always ended up going to the hospital dressed like a model, because Michael had told you the first time that seeing you all dressed up had been the only thing he was looking forward to.
You plucked a cigarette from your pocket, and balanced it between your lips as you reached his room, "Miss L/N! No smoking, please! It's not allowed.", You waved the nurse off.
You took a slow drag from your cigarette, filling your lungs, and then pushed the door to Michael's room open. You beamed when you saw him, standing by his bed, something he hadn't done for the entirety of his time in recovery.
He held his arms out when he saw your smile, smiling himself, as though he was presenting a gift to you. "Well?"
"Oh my God, Michael!" You ran for him, giggling as you did, and you were met with a grunt when you dived into his arms. Michael stumbled backwards slightly as he wrapped his arms around you, before regaining his balance. His chest stung in all the places he'd been shot, but he didn't care too much. You looked so happy, something you hadn't been since finding out about the mafia, and he wasn't going to take that away from you.
"Jesus." He laughed at your excitement, "I'm still sore, sweetheart."
"Sorry, I'm sorry, I'm just...You look so much better."
"I feel better. They've been doing physical therapy the past few days, getting me up on my feet, finally got up on my own today."
"Margaret told me you'd had good news, was it this?"
"This, and," He reached behind him and produced a piece of paper from the bedside cabinet. The words "Discharge Notice" were printed in black at the top of the page. "This."
You gasped, "You're getting out? Today?"
"Yes." He nodded, and you clasped a hand over your mouth, ready to squeal with excitement. Michael interrupted, grasping your wrist between his fingers, "But, love, I'd have to stay with you, so it's only if you'll have me. If it'll be too much of a bother, I can stay here-"
"Michael, don't be daft." You moved your hand from your mouth, to press each palm to Michael's cheeks. "Of course I'll have you. It'd be my pleasure."
He sighed and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close, so that your noses were touching. "Are you sure? It's not going to be pretty for the first couple of weeks. Changing bandages, cleaning bullet holes-"
"Michael." You interrupted him quickly, thumb swiping over a small, stitched scar on his cheek. "Of course I'm sure. I mean, it was only a matter of time before we moved in together, anyway, wasn't it? I suppose, it's not under the circumstances we'd like it to have been, but I want to do it."
A comfortable silence fell on the room, Michael was simply smiling, green eyes exploring yours. You ran your fingers over the new scars on his face, and found yourself frowning when you reached a particularly deep one, straight through his eyebrow. He breathed out, "I love you, so much."
You'd never heard anyone say anything with such passion, but Michael had never meant something more in his life. Tommy always spoke about feeling like you'd been pardoned by God when you should've died, and everything else being extra, borrowed time. He didn't think he could live another day without helping you to feel exactly how much you meant to him.
"I love you too, Michael." He was hardly listening to you, just thinking about things he needed to say to you.
"More than anything, you know that, don't you?" He continued. You looked at him, eyes full of concern.
"What's going on?" You were convinced there was something really wrong that he wasn't telling you about.
"Nothing's going on, my love." Michael smoothed your hair down comfortingly, chewing on the side of his lip while he thought about what to say next. "I nearly died, Y/N. I should've died, John did, and he didn't get to tell Esmé that he loved her again. I need you to know what you mean to me. Need you to know how much I love you."
He let his forehead fall against yours, sighed, and squeezed his eyes shut. Tears were threatening to fall, and he knew you'd get upset if you saw him cry. But you'd already sensed he was unsettled, and you pressed your lips to his cheek, and then to his nose, and then to his lips, he loved how loving you were.
"I'm going to show you how much I love you, how much you mean to me. As soon as I can, I'll help you around the house, I'll do everything I can for you." He clasped his hands together at the back of your neck, holding you far enough away that he could really look at you, breaths slightly shaky. "And when I'm better, really better, I mean, I want to marry you."
Your eyes widened, you supposed you might've looked scared to anyone who didn't know you too well. "Michael-"
"I'm serious. If I asked you, right now, to be my wife-"
You shook your head, a grin making it's way onto your face now. "Michael-"
"Will you marry me?" He sounded so serious. You'd spoken about getting married before, and you'd both meant what you'd said, but you hadn't expected he'd ask you so soon. You'd been together just over a year, but you were both still young, and nearly four months of your relationship had just been casual nights together.
"Are you proposing to me?" You were really smiling now. As much as you were young, and as much as you hadn't quite expected this, you were excited. Of course you wanted to marry Michael.
"If that's what you want this to be." He was smiling down at you, grasping both of your hands in his own. He’d have gotten down on one knee if he could’ve, and he felt a slight pang of guilt knowing this wasn’t quite the proposal you’d probably hoped for.
But you didn’t care. Growing up, you’d wanted a big wedding, with a big proposal beforehand, but having someone who you loved as much as you loved Michael, he could’ve proposed to you at a funeral and you’d have said yes. “Well, if that's what's happening, then yes."
"You'll marry me?" The surprise in his voice was completely unmasked. He’d had no idea you’d actually say yes.
"Yes. Yes, Michael, I'll marry you." You felt yourself doing a little jump up and down out of excitement.
"Are you serious?"
"Of course I'm serious!"
Michael arms were around your waist, now, picking you up from the ground and kissing you, completely ignoring the burn in his chest. Your lips always felt made for eachother when he kissed you, and this time was no different, if not even better. You hadn’t been kissing him half as much as you normally would, what with everything going on, and it almost felt desperate, needy.
"Tomorrow, I'll go out, and I'll buy you a ring, alright? Tommy owes me money, I'll use that to buy you the biggest one I can find." You laughed at Michael's excitement. "But this is official. We're engaged, love."
"We're engaged." You repeated, tears in your eyes, and let Michael take your face in his hands and kiss you again. You couldn't quite believe what had just happened - truth be told, neither could Michael - and you certainly didn't ever expect it to happen in a hospital room, but you were excited nonetheless.
"Come on, I've got all of my things packed, let's go home."
-
As soon as you stepped through the door to your apartment, you were apologising to Michael for the "state of the place". You weren't entirely used to having him round, and so felt you had to explain the little messes that you'd often leave laying around.
"Sorry, it's a bit of a mess. I've not been home too often. And it's not as big as yours, I know-"
Michael stopped you before you rambled on about how the fireplace wasn't lit, and you hadn't washed your dishes from that morning, and how you'd left all of your makeup out on the bathroom vanity because you hadn't time to put it away.
"Stop it." He soothed you, pressing a finger to your lips and looking around at your ground floor flat. It certainly wasn't much, but he actually liked your house better than his own. It was smaller, and therefore cozier, and he found the looks he got from neighbours the morning after you'd slept together funny, knowing they'd heard you screaming his name the night before. "It's perfect."
You smiled, half-heartedly, and gestured to the living room doorway, "Here, you can lay down on the sofa, and I can make some lunch. What would you like? Oh, and when do I have to change your bandages, do you remember?" You swung open the kitchen cabinet, searching through the groceries you'd bought the day before. "I'm not sure what I could make. I can go to the store, I think it should still be open-"
"Love, stop." Michael stepped closer to you, hands settling on each of your shoulders. "Just take a minute, calm down, we've got time."
"I know. I know, I just-"
"Don't." He let a hand slip down your arm and into your own, "You've said yes to marrying me today, I'm very much happy dealing with your unwashed dishes, and you can make me lunch any time, now, okay? I'm here to stay."
"Come on, fiancé." Michael grinned at you. "Lay with me, please? Missed you."
You sighed, and turned to close the cabinet door behind you. You were quick to stress yourself out, and normally you'd argue that you couldn't just lay down and forget about the things you needed to do, but you'd missed him too. "Okay."
Michael led you down the hallway and into your bedroom, he'd been here before, but you'd spend most of your time together at his house or at the office, so it felt strange having him in your bedroom. He was one to make himself at home, and today was no different. As soon as he reached your bed, the shirt that he was wearing was unbuttoned and on the floor, and he was sprawled out on top of the sheets, gesturing for you to join him.
You tried to lay down next to him, but he had other plans, hands reaching out to grip your hips and pull you on top of him, one knee on either side of his torso. "Michael!" You giggled.
"Oh, come on. I haven't had any time alone with you in over a month." His hands started to make their way under your dress, and you almost let him, until you snapped back to reality and noticed the bandage wrapped around his body.
"I know." You wanted to, you really wanted to, but you found yourself smacking his hand away before he was able to get past your thigh. "But you're still recovering."
"I'm fit enough." He raised an eyebrow at you, and you were certainly considering it. He could definitely be very convincing, when he wanted to.
"Are you sure?" You stuck your bottom lip out, pouting at him.
"I'm sure, baby." His hands found their way to your waist, and he was looking up at you with what you could only describe as hunger in his eyes, jaw clenched. He made it so hard for you to say no. "Come on, let me prove it to you. Let me show you how much I love you.”
"I don't know, Michael-"
"Please, sweetheart." He interrupted you, "Missed your body. Been so desperate for you."
Hearing him say he was desperate for you had a knot growing in your stomach. You sighed, weighing up the options you had, but ultimately deciding that you'd both be unable to think about anything else if you didn't have sex.
"Okay. Alright, but if you feel like you need to stop, you stop. Okay?"
"I will. Thank you, darling." You could feel him hardening through his trousers, and it had you biting down hard on your lips, having been waiting for this moment to come since he could sit up straight. He'd teased you while in the hospital, talked dirty, touched you every now and again, but it was hard to find a time when a nurse wasn't going to walk in and scold him for being too active, and Polly wasn't going to come in for a visit. "Now, come here."
He pushed himself up, back against the headboard, and dipped his head to connect your lips. It was fast, rough, a clash of teeth and tongue and lips, he'd missed you, and you were making it clear that you'd thought about him for the entire time he'd been in the hospital.
His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer so that you were chest to chest. He could feel his wounds burning when your torso collided with his, but the taste of your lips on his and the feeling of having you so close again quickly dissolved any discomfort he felt.
He was so needy for you, hips bucking upwards to meet yours, hands sliding down to grip your hips, you thought it was the hottest you'd ever seen him. "Fuck, Michael." You gasped out as his lips found your neck, head falling back.
He groaned at the sound of you moaning for him, he'd been waiting to touch you for so long. "Need you, pretty girl. We've got plenty of time for other things later, but I need to be inside you right now."
You didn't need to say another word, you simply nodded and helped him to unbuckle his belt while you hiked your dress up above your waist. His fingers grazed over your lingerie, and you mewled, the feeling almost too much. "Jesus, baby, you're so wet already. Haven't even done anything yet."
"Missed you so much, Michael." You breathed out, an answer to his statement, and simply a statement in itself.
"Missed you too, princess." You loved when he called you pet names.
You watched as he freed himself from his underwear, and his cock sprung up, hard and ready for you. "You're hard already." You mocked his words, and he laughed.
Neither of you wasted any time with foreplay, your panties were ripped off and on the floor with one flick of Michael's wrist, and he was lifting you off of him slightly, and guiding you back down onto his cock.
The feeling of him sliding into you again was euphoric for both of you. You hadn't had sex in more than a month, as opposed to usually being borderline sex addicts, and you knew you wouldn't last long.
You both let out pornographic moans as he bottomed out, Michael's face said it all. His mouth hung open, eyebrows knitted together, eyes wide, you were so tight, he could've came at the feeling of his cock stretching you out.
"Fuck, not gonna last long, honey." His forehead fell against yours and he screwed his eyes shut, just revelling in how good you felt around him. "Are you alright?" He asked, hand holding and stroking your waist lovingly. He was big, and you were so used to him before that you hardly needed any time to adjust, but with being away from eachother for so long, he was almost too much to handle.
"I'm okay. Give me a second. Feel so full." You were breathing heavily, shifting around. It wasn't uncomfortable as such, just a lot to take.
Michael ran his fingers through your hair, soothing you and pressing kisses to your forehead. "Taking me so well, baby. Just take your time."
"Fuck," You moaned, you loved when he was sweet to you in bed. You'd told him months ago that you thought it might've been your biggest turn on. "You can move."
Michael looked up at you, just for an extra check that you were truly alright, and, upon finding no sign that you weren't, bucked his hips up to meet yours. You almost screamed, he knew exactly what spots to hit, and he did every time without fail.
You bounced on him, his hands helping you, lifting you off of him and bringing you straight back down at new angles every time. "You feel so good, Mike."
"Fuck, good girl. That's a good girl." Michael let his forehead drop onto your collarbone, watching your tits bounce up and down. You were so beautiful, he often wondered how he'd gotten so lucky. "Tell me how good I'm making you feel."
"So, so good. Missed your cock so much. Love it so much." Your words were slightly slurred, eyes starting to droop. He loved watching you, how much of a mess you'd get, just from riding his cock.
His hands found your tits, massaging them and twisting your nipples, which always had you screaming for him, and today was no different. "Feel good?"
"Feels fucking amazing." He thrust into you at just the right angle, which had you gasping and digging your nails into his back, leaving little red half moons on his shoulder blades. "Oh, right there, Mike.”
"Shit, baby, are you close?" You were clenching around him so tightly, "Can feel it, you're close."
"I'm so close." You moaned, you were certain your upstairs neighbours would hear you, the walls and ceilings were thin, and Michael was making you yell out in pleasure.
"Me too. Almost there, sweetheart. Hang on for me." He increased his speed, making it even harder for you to hold on, and making your moans fall from your lips even louder than before.
"I don't think I can, Mike." Your legs were shaking like crazy, and you could feel his dick tensing inside of you. You needed to come so badly.
"I said hold on. You can hold it." His face was stern as he said it, dominant side coming out as he grabbed your hips and slammed you down onto him, bucking his hips at the same time. He was going to make this so good for you.
"Fuck, Michael, please." You threw your head back. You felt his cock twitch, and a loud moan come from him, he was going to come.
"Alright, baby, come. Come with me."
Your throat was hoarse from moaning as loudly as you were, but it didn't stop you from screaming his name as your walls tightened around him and you came undone. The feeling of his cum painting your insides never got old, always made you feel like you could go at least another few rounds.
"Oh my God." You panted, collapsing onto his chest as he lay back on the bed. You both lay there, breathing heavily, sweaty messes, for a few minutes. You didn't think you could move very far, your legs were shaking against him.
"Jesus, have I missed this." Michael kissed the top of your head through quick, harsh breaths.
"I've missed this so much." You agreed, heart pounding.
You lifted your head, just enough to see that there were a few speckles of blood seeping through the bandage that was wrapped around his torso. "You're bleeding, baby. Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." He nodded, and reached over to your bedside cabinet to grab the small alarm clock that sat there. It read two o’clock. Michael grinned at you.
"Time to change the bandages."
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malikselfindulgence · 7 months
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Could I request a romantic LMK fic/ficlet with RedSon and a female reader asking them for help foguring out demonic self care? Reader is kind of in the same boat as MK where they absolutely just thought they were human and now they’re discovering they’re not and they’re kind of struggling to get used to their new body, in this case grooming wise. I was thinking a bat demon reader struggling to brush their teeth without breaking the toothbrush with their fangs or getting the fur between their new wings brushed because it’s getting matted lol (it’s already hard to get your back it’s super hard when there’s two things in the way). It can be a bit suggestive but it doesn’t have to be.
RED SON X BAT DEMON!READER
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A/N: AGHH thank you for the request!!! Literally had sm fun writing this it's such a cool idea >w<!! Also the way you worded the request makes it sound like YOU'RE a bat demon 🤨🤨 lol
Content: negative self-talk from reader at the start, kind of hurt/comfort, ending is suggestive!
Fic under the cut!
You know- you used to think demons were cool. You thought the monkey king's tail was cute, you thought about how convenient it probably was to have those claw-like feet, you thought DBK's horns looked cool [though you'd never say that to his face] and you still think Red Son's bull form is very pretty, fur and hooves and all.
Now, though? Not so much.
You weren't handling the change as well as you thought you would- being struck by the fact that you're not human, not even mortal, wasn't easy on anyone, but you didn't think you'd struggle with your new physical form this much.
While, yes, you looked cooler, you suppose- every new feature came with about a million more hurdles. You thought flying would be pretty neat? Wrong, you can barely stay balanced for over 10 seconds, and you got too air-sick to make use of it's travel anyways. You thought the new big ears were sick? How much do you like them out in public, when there's too many sounds attacking you from every angle, too loud and too overwhelming? And your sense of sight keeps deteriorating- you think you might need glasses now.
You hadn't left the house in a while- a long while, actually. Everything was just too much, and frankly, you were embarrassed being seen stumbling like an idiot in your new form, hunching into yourself at every noise and bright light. You hadn't been checking your phone either- you knew they had questions, you knew they were checking up on you, and it only made you feel more pathetic.
You were at home now, cursing your ancestors and stupid demon blood and stupid fucking bats, trying to wrangle your arm in position to brush out the fur on your back, but your stupid wings kept getting in the way, and you could barely even see in the stupid mirror, and-
You're not sure when you started crying, but you looked down to find teardrops landing on your sink. God, this was ridiculous. This was basic self-care, shouldn't you just figure it out? Demon instincts or whatever? You'd considered asking Red Son for help, and even though you know it's just your insecurities eating away at you, you can't help but be scared that he'd laugh at you-
'CRASH'
You pause, looking through your open bathroom- you think that was your front door. You think someone just busted open your front door. You think someone's currently in your house- you rush to grab a pair of sciccors from your cabinet, ears straining to pick up on the noise outside.
You hear footsteps, some angry mumbling, and your shackles slowly go down- was that...?
"I've called you thirty seven times! Thirty seven! Not that I got worried, but you're not responding to the dragon horse girl either, and I swear on the jade emperor's life if you don't-"
His rant comes to an abrupt stop once he sees you, cheeks still red with tear streaks, hair flat against your head, wings bent awkwardly to cover your sides from view. You smile nervously in an attempt to ease the tension, but it comes out strained.
"R-Red Son! Funny, ah, seeing you here- you could've rang the doorbell, or something-"
He scoffs at your words, walking closer- your wings wrap tighter around you, trying to shield yourself off- you don't want him seeing you like this.
"With how you've been rudely ignoring just about everyone, I wasn't even sure if you were alive, let alone willing to open the door." He hisses out, and although he tries to come off as mean, you can tell he felt on edge, his concern showing in the way his voice cracks at his words, his eyes boring through you. He's waiting for an explanation, but you're not sure you can give one.
"I'm sorry, it's just been- I didn't mean to ignore you as long as I did, really-" you stumble over your words, embarassed and guilty and scared, scared of how he'll react and what he'll say.
His eyes squint at you, his face softening as he takes you in- you look a mess, and as his gaze falls to the broken tooth-brush and tweezers by your sink, the way your fur is dull and matted down, he starts realising that you'd been struggling, and just what you'd been struggling with.
He sighs, slowly stepping closer, his eyes down-cast and worried. He settled his palm over your jaw, thumbing at your cheek to wipe away a tear. "You could've asked me for help, you know." He frowns, gesturing to your state, "There's....specific tools for this kind of thing. You can't just use your usual mortal appliances, they're too frail, and frankly repulsive. They're more likely to make it worse than anything."
You nod to acknowledge his words- you can't even pretend he was being dramatic and snobbish this time, he was right, your toothbrush being enough proof. You feel your frustration settle down into something quiter the longer he stays next to you.
Red Son suddenly pulls away, fire enveloping his form for a brief few seconds- you stand there, confused and wide eyed, as he returns with some form of bag in hand. You're not sure how he managed to get that so fast.
"Well then, up you go." He sets the bag down and shoos you towards the edge of the tub, urging you to sit down. You do so without hesitation, though you raise your brow at him and hum, a little dazed, "Huh?"
"I'll be grooming your fur, of course. As well as trimming your nails- they don't exactly look comfortable." He takes out a fancy looking hairbrush, better-looking tweezers than yours, as well as a few other things you don't recognise. You're still reeling from the fact that he's here, not making fun of you, and now he wants to take care of you?
"Wait," He pauses his movements to look up at you, hair crackling in the air above him, "You...you don't have to do this for me."
You're about to reassure him that you can take care of yourself [despite the fact that you rather evidently need his help] when his finger settles on your lips, shushing you entirely.
"I'm well aware I don't have to do anything, and I'm sure you're aware I wouldn't be caught dead doing something I didn't want to do."
He leans in to peck your forehead, a quiet show of affection to reassure you.
"Now stop with that self-deprecating talk and let me help you, alright?" You nod silently, your ears twitching lightly, and his lips tilt upward just the slightest bit.
Red Son instructs you to turn around so he can start with your wings and back- he handles them with care, especially around the tendons and legions where skin meets bone, the areas sensitive to his touch. His palms and fingerpads are rough, no doubt from all the handi-work he does, and they scratch pleasantly against your skin.
He washes out the areas you couldn't reach no matter how you positioned yourself with a wet rag and water from your tub, making sure they're clean before starting to brush your fur, "hold your left wing for me?"
You find yourself relaxing as time goes on, the rhythmic brushing and untangling soothing your nerves. You can hear Red Son's hair sizzle, his content breathing, the small murmurs he lets out every once in a while, and rather than overwhelm you it comforts you- you feel enveloped in his warmth.
"My mother used to do fur treatment baths for me, when I was little." Red Son starts quietly, his fingers prodding at certain spots on your wings, perhaps checking to see if something's out of place, or perhaps he's just fidgeting.
"I couldn't control my powers, back then, so my fur was always left charred and dry. It was a sensory nightmare for me, honestly. She hated trimming my hooves, though." He laughs a little, lost in a memory, "always said it was beneath her, but the servants could never quite get it right, so she had to until I was old enough to do it myself."
"Do you paint your hooves? Like, with nail-polish?" You wonder aloud, and you feel him smack the back of your head playfully. "Don't ask such ridiculous things."
"You're avoiding the question."
".....well, yes, o-on occasion."
You giggle at his reply- you'd already painted his nails over the course of your sleep-overs, and you were going to abuse the hell out of this new information.
"Speaking of hooves, could you turn around? I'll start trimming your claws, now."
You do as instructed, watching him pick up the tweezers. You hold your hands out on your thighs for him, watch as he eyes them with a thoughtful look. He picks up one of your hands, pressing it against his lips gently before settling it down again. You try to push down the flush rising up your face.
He rubs his thumb over your fingers, separating them so he can work better, the 'snip-snip' echoing through your ears, "I'll leave these behind for you, since sciccors aren't normally strong enough. You have to be careful not to go past this white line here, though, otherwise applying pressure to your claws will be painful"
You nod, a little speechless. It was easier when your back was facing him, but now you can see his face- the focused look in his eye, his pretty lips pursing in concentration, and you feel your chest warm at just how considerate and loving he's being. God, you should've just picked up the phone and called him so much sooner and saved yourself the trouble.
"Hey, Red?" You mumble with a smile, and he hums to show he's listening. "Thank you, for all of this. I love you."
He freezes, refusing to meet your eyes- you try to hold back a snicker, but you can't help yourself. You'd been dating for ages, and yet everytime you said that he got all flustered and shy like a schoolgirl. He grumbles, cheeks tinted pink, "Yeah, don't mention it."
Red Son rises to his full height, taking something you can't really see out of the bag before leaving it on the floor- you really need to look into getting a glasses prescription- grabbing your hand and pulling you upwards, towards your room. Your muscles feel lax and relaxed, and you yawn, realising just how taxing the day was.
"I think you should rest for now- we'll have to go to the market early morning before all the high-quality merch gets sold out." Red Son pushes you into your bed gently, settling down beside you, putting something over your ears. You feel all the overwhelming background noise drown out, leaving your mind fuzzy and....relaxed. You're not anxious anymore- you can't hear the earth buzzing constantly in your head anymore.
"They're noise cancelling headphones- loud sounds tend to...stress me out, sometimes. I have a spare back home, so no need to- mmmfh?!"
You rush forward to kiss Red Son- your wonderful, considerate, stupidly observant boyfriend, who you love so much you can feel it rush through your heart in waves- melding your lips against his. He starts kissing back once his surprise wears off, arms slowly wrapping around you to pull you closer. You feel refreshed, you feel happy and content and loved, and as you pull away you think he can see it in your gaze, because he smiles in relief.
You start peppering his face in kisses and messy smooches- all over his cheeks and jaw and nose, the corner of his lips, the endearing scar on his cheek, making loud kissing noises all the while. He tries to act annoyed, but the way he blushes and leans into you is telling enough.
"Glad to see you back to your old exasperating self."
You push him down onto the mattress, and although he's strong enough to flip you over again, he doesn't, simply laying there and letting you do as you please.
You kiss his jaw and trail down to his neck again, this time slower, paying close attention to the spot between his collarbone and shoulder, fangs just barely grazing the surface of his skin. You feel him gulp against you in anticipation, his eyes following your movements.
"Just let me thank you properly, okay?"
"W-well," his voice is shaky, your hands roaming over his body, claws now freshly-cut and scraping against his skin deliciously, "I suppose I can't say no to that."
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tashacee · 8 months
Note
Imagining a scenario where Wild gets turned back into a Hylian but the others just freak out and reassure him that it's fine they'll figure out how to turn him back to normal no don't worry everything will be okay you don't have to pretend to like being Hylian for our sake, they're all brainstorming and Wild is just in the corner shrieking with rage because nobody will listen (the others think he's scared and keep trying to help which only makes him scream louder)
You know, I was going to do a short response to this but have a crack fic of my crack fic instead:
Aspects of A Misconception
“It’ll be okay, Wild.” Sky’s voice was soft and soothing, and any other time Wild might have been convinced.
But it wasn’t any other time. It was today, and today was going badly.
It was funny. Months of hoping and trying and the Aspect had just fallen off by accident. One minute he had been fighting a wizzrobe with the others and the next its spell had hit him and the Aspect had gone flying off. Wild had been sent tumbling across the field in his underpants, unprotected against the rocks and rubble on the ground.
Things happened very fast then. Hyrule and Warriors had dashed to protect him while the others killed the Wizzrobe.
Wild was… disoriented, to put it mildly. He hadn’t been hylian in a long time. He hadn’t been short in a long time. And he had no tail! How was he supposed to balance? He tried to scramble upright, to try and help in the fight, but he tripped over his feet and stumbled. If Wars hadn’t caught him he would have fallen flat on his face.
“Unnghh” he slurred. Dammit! It had been months since he had last spoken, since he had last had the ability to speak. When he had first come out of the Shrine he had to learn to speak again, like a small child, and it was happening all over again. “Whnnnnn.”
“It’s okay.” Warriors was saying, his voice unusually gentle and concerned. “It’ss okay, we’ve got you. We can fix this.”
Wild tried to stand again and fell again, and this time Hyrule pushed him down with a stern frown on his face, beginning to set to work healing the scrapes across his body.
Beyond them, the battle had ended and the rest of the Chain came jogging up to him. Twilight pushed through and knelt at Wild’s side, taking his hand. He looked horrified.
Was there something on Wild’s face? He reached up and gingerly felt his face - no, it felt the way it was supposed to, furless, scarred, no whiskers or snout.
“Hyrule, can you fix it?” Four was asking. Hyrule shook his head.
Fix what? He had literally just been fixed. He tried, unsuccessfully, to speak again.
“Hyruuuhhhg.” he coughed. Talking was hard! How did he go around doing it all the time? “Fiiihwaaaach?”
“Alright, everyone, move.” Time’s voice, as ever, had its low and commanding tone. “You’re crowding him. Wild, can you walk?”
Wild blinked and then nodded. “Yhhhhn.” shit this talking nonsense wasn’t working. Still, he accepted Twilight’s hand up onto unsteady legs. He was upright. Score! He took a step forwards.
His knees buckled and he fell with a shout into Twilight’s chest, weak as a baby. It was so hard to balance without a tail! How did these people manage?
“Okay.” Time stepped forwards and scooped Wild up in his arms.
“Yeek!” Wild screeched. This was just weird! He’d never been smaller than Time as long as he’d known him, it just felt wrong for the Old Man to be able to lift him up like a child. He tried to kick but his legs weren’t obeying him.
“Here.” Sky pushed his sailcloth onto Wild’s lap. “You must be cold, wrap this around you.”
Wild grunted. He was kind of cold, now that he didn’t have fur to keep him warm, not to mention that he was also, you know, in his underwear. He covered himself as best he could, but he still wasn’t sure what was going on, what was worrying everyone so much.
“Tahhhn,” he tried to say, tapping a hand on Time’s breastplate. “Whhn?”
“It’ll be alright.” Time murmured. “ Come on, we need to find somewhere to set up camp, then we can figure out how to change you back.”
Wait.
What?
No!
Ah shit, the Chain, the sweet, kind, well-meaning Chain had got it so very, very backwards. They thought that the Aspect was his true form and that he had been cursed into a hylian form by the wizzrobe.
“Nnnuh.” Wild tried to protest. “Ugh. Nnnnnuh.”
“It’ll be okay.” Time just repeated, completely misunderstanding but so very well-meaing,
Wild groaned and leaned back. Whatever. He would have to wait until they made camp to explain, but that was okay. Maybe by then he would have better control over his speech. He could explain then. It would be fine.
-
It was not fine.
“It’ll be okay, Wild.” Sky’s voice was soft and soothing, and any other time Wild might have been convinced.
But it wasn’t any other time. It was today, and today was going badly. Time had carefully set Wild down as they made camp and Twilight had hovered at his side, working with Sky to surround him with blankets and pillows, trying to make him comfortable. Wild still didn’t have enough control of his limbs to stop him.
“Ugh.” he tried to protest. “Twaaah, nuh.” this wasn’t working. He didn;t need swaddling like a child, he needed clothes. His clothes. He pulled out the slate and clumsily flicked through, selecting the champion’s tunic and a pair of shorts. Thankfully the Slate was able to put them onto him automatically. He probably would have died of embarrassment if he had to ask for help.
“Wild?”
Wild looked up. Wind was hovering a few feet away, chewing at his lip. He looked nervous, uncertain. Of course, normally he would be cuddled up to Wild at this point, running his hands through his fur.
Wild held out an arm, inviting him over.
Wind took the invitation and rushed to his side, curling into a ball and burying his head in his chest.
“Careful, Wind!” Sky admonished, but Wind ignored him, wrapping his arms tighter around his brother.
It was weird. Wind was still smaller than him but no longer by that much. Wild barely knew how to process it.
“We’ll change you back, Wild.” Wind was saying, his voice muffled as he buried his face in the tunic. “It’ll be okay. We’ll get you your body back.”
“Ugh.” Wild couldn’t take this any more, he had to figure out a way of explaining. He held up his hands, asking for patience. He could sound it out if he just had the time.
Wild sighed. “Hmm.” he said. “Aaaa-ah. Aaa-ii. I. I ahhhmh. I ahhhhhhm huh. Ugh.” he cleared his throat, checking that his brothers were still with him. Yep, they were watching with wide eyes. Well, he supposed, it was the first time he had ever actually spoken to them. “I am. Huhhhhn. Huuuhhieee. Hyyyyllah. Hyliieee-yuh. Ugh. Fuchhh. I ahhm Hyliaaahnnnh. I am Hylian.”
Hell yeah! He did it!
Wind burst into tears.
Oh shit, he’d fucked up. He wasn’t sure how but he’d fucked up.
The sailor was hugging him again. Twilight looked pained as he gripped his hand. Sky was shaking his head.
“It’s okay, Wild, you don’t have to be brave about this.”
Wait.
“Nuh-ho.” Hell yeah, he was getting a handle on this whole speaking thing again. “No - I ahm hylian.” he pressed a hand to his chest. “Me. Muh-my bodiee. Me. Huh-hylian.”
“You don’t have to be brave for our sake.” Sky soothed. “I can’t imagine how frightening it is to be shoved into the wrong body.”
OH REALLY?
Wild wanted to scream. But he was pretty sure that screaming would only convince his brothers even further that he was just putting on a brave face.
So he took a deep breath, did his best to smile pleasantly, and tried again.
It was going to be a long day.
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wackapedia · 1 year
Text
Drunk Words Are Sober Thoughts
Sihtric Kjartansson x reader
Plot: Good news: You celebrate your recent victory by challenging strangers to a drinking contest. Bad news, you turn into a whiny baby when drunk and your friends do not want to deal with it at all Wc: 793 words Warnings: drinking and being drunk, mention of fights in the battlefield, mild mention of dying. Fluff tho
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You sway in your seat as you down the rest of your ale and slam your mug against the wooden table. Your opponent, still quite sober, laughs at your poor attempt of challenging him in a drinking contest. You try to focus your sight, but it appears that there are now seven of them? "One more... I can take one more..." You were completely unintelligible at this point when you asked for another round. The observing crowd laughs. You decide to laugh along, not entirely sure what's funny. All of a sudden, their laughter halts. Someone had just walked into the alehouse.
You were sure something was still funny despite everyone else's silence as you giggled and turned to the man standing next to you; the amber hilt of his sword strapped on his back was unmistakable despite your drunken state. Your friend and lord pay off your tab and literally haul you out of your seat, carrying you back to camp.
"You celebrate better than a Dane…," he comments.
"Hmm? How do we know that?" You furrow your brows, genuinely wondering. You hiccup before continuing, "Do we know any Danes?"
Uthred sighs and hauls you higher over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The walk back to camp was short; you'd sobered up just a little to spot Osferth tending to a bowl of soup, which you hoped was for you.
You must've fallen asleep for a while because you awakened to the interior of your tent, with Uthred tapping your cheek and balancing a bowl of broth on your neck.
"Here. Feed yourself." He holds it steady and makes your hand hold a spoon.
"Ah, you sound like my father!" You pout, dropping the spoon back into the bowl.
Uthred sighs, quitting the task at hand. He calls for Finan, who happily takes over.
"This is why you shouldn't get drunk, you turn into a baby!" Finan takes a spoonful of broth, lifting it to your lips.
You keep your lips tightly shut as you pull the furs up to your face, hiding from everyone's favorite Irishman.
"And you're acting like a mother hen!" You mumble from under the covers.
He laughs with his entire chest. "Mother hen' isn't a new one, he gets that a lot.
"Come on, this will help you with tomorrow's hangover. We have to get back on the road." He chides, further proving the Mother Hen allegations. You remain under the furs, beginning to feel sleepy again. Finan calls out to you one more time, almost begging you to take just a few spoons, bargaining and negotiating like it was a battlefield. Somehow it was, with you being so difficult.
"I want Sihtric..." You slur under the sheets, walking between sleep and wakefulness. Finan doesn't respond.
"Sihtric is always so kind and gentle with me, even when I'm not drunk." You were talking to yourself at this point, slowly popping your head out of the covers, eyes closed. "He's always looking out for me without making me feel belittled. We work so well, especially on the battlefield." You sigh, thinking back to that morning's fight.
You were working through the open field after the breach at the shield wall. Standing back to back, you were absolutely lethal against your enemies, with bodies dropping quickly around the both of you. It felt comfortable to have him near you during fights. If you were to fall in battle, he would be the last thing you could see before passing. And somehow that, in itself, was your heaven, Valhalla, and paradise.
You were mumbling all of these thoughts out loud, unaware that the man himself was sitting next to you, holding the bowl of broth, red-faced and flustered. It also didn't help that three heads stacked through the tent entrance to listen in on your whole spiel about Sihtric.
".... He's easy on the eyes too. So please get Sihtric for me, Finan, before I-" You almost choked on your own tongue when you turned your head to see Sihtric. The bowl of broth must be boiling in his hands now at the heat of embarrassment and excitement coursing through his veins. The heads of Uthred, Finan, and Osferth by the tent entrance snicker to themselves as they watch the scene play out.
"Please say that again when you're sober, and then I will kiss you if you let me." Sihtric somehow recovers from his state, and finds the courage to express his feelings.
Immediately, you sat up and grabbed the bowl, slurping all of its contents messily, praying that it truly helped with hangovers so that you and Sihtric could have this conversation sober first thing tomorrow.
And that he'll make good on his promise to kiss you.
 A/N: apparently i write for TLK now too lol
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adobe-outdesign · 3 months
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can you review acara? i JUST learned they’re supposed to be aquatic, i don’t see it at all
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Maybe I'm biased because I have one, but I've always really enjoyed Acaras. They're a completely abstract creature, to the point where it's hard to pin down what they even resemble the most.
The head is the most distinctive feature, as they sport two doubled-up ears and a pair of fur-covered horns (which are actually flexible). They also have no tails, which is something you don't see a lot when it comes to fantasy quadrupeds. Both their furless paws and ears match in color, making them pop and balancing the palette. (Pink's not my favorite accent color, but it at least makes sense here given that it's their skin.) Finally, their underbellies further break up the design, making for a nice-looking Neopet all around.
And as for the aquatic thing: those split ears used to a pair of fins, back when the Acara was still called the Tigren:
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Even though you can't tell they're aquatic just by looking at them nowdays, I'd argue that they do still give off a diving mammal vibe. I think it's the furless paws combined with the the short fur—they're like the otters of the Neopet world (except not literally, because the Lutari is the otter of the Neopet world, but you get the idea). I also seem to recall that they use their horns to help them steer when diving, furthering their swimming capabilities.
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And as for customization, the Acara came out on top, basically remaining unaltered except for a raised paw and a slightly less joyful expression. A lot of things got cleaned up, such as the horn structure and the feet being less weirdly shiny. The only downside is that I swear the heads got bigger, but otherwise I feel like the converted version is slightly better.
Favorite Colours:
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Grey: I already spotlighted this one in my grey color review so I won't get into too much detail here, but the grey Acara is super pretty. The converted version is pretty standard (though the tears and eyebags at least make it extra sad), but the UC/styled version is perfect. I love the horns being flopped forward and how it's looking up while leaning forward, giving it a particularly pitiful look. The shading is also pretty nice as well.
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Chocolate: I think what makes this one work is the amount of detail. I love the little white chocolate drizzle that accents the head, collar, back, and paws, with whipped cream on top and extra chocolate fudge on the back. What really makes it though are the waffle paws/ears and the horns, which are white chocolate with milk chocolate striping. The mostly brown palette is also lovely and high-contrast.
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Plushie: You know what, I just think I like Acaras with stripes on their horns. I've always liked plushie Acaras for reasons similar to chocolate; the ears/paws have a nice pattern to them, and the striped patterns really pop due the use of aquamarine and yellow against the duller blue base. Both versions are fine; the converted version looks a bit less creepy, but it looses major points for having normal eyes instead of button eyes (especially because the button eyes accented the orange patch on the foreleg) and also loosing the stitching on its chest. Still, it's a nice-looking color all around.
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BONUS: I have to give the pastel Acara a shout-out because it's the color of my Acara. :) They're not particularly fancy compared to the above colors, but the light green and yellow palette combined with the subtle pinkish shading really makes this one nice to look at.
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ceruleancattail · 1 year
Text
Savanaclaw's Butler
Jack Howl x butler reader
As a butler, you pride yourself on being flexible. Never saying " no " to any of your master's requests, you offer him only the best.
At least, that's how things should be.
It's hard to keep up with Jack Howl.
He embodies the words "Only the Strong survive." Waking up at the crack of dawn everyday, Jack starts his morning routine. Running laps around the estate, before he embarks on whatever training he deems appropriate for the day.
The very least you could do as his butler was to offer him your support, no?
Your thumbs press into a tray. Glazed with gold, metal cold to the touch. Tilting it slightly, you adjust your grip on the tray. A glass pitcher stood tall, crystal clear water churning within. Next to it lay a towel. Soft and fluffy, it vaguely reminded you of a cloud.
Holding these items, you stood at the gate of the estate. Silently awaiting Jack's arrival. Before, you tried to accompany him on his runs. A severe underestimation of just how fit Jack was. Running at his normal pace, Jack left you in the dust.
In the end, He was the one waiting for you. How shameful, especially for a butler. Your best was no match for him. You suppose that's why he was the master, and you? A mere servant.
You took a seat on the doorstep, weary of waiting. Balancing the tray on your knees, you stared aimlessly,
A sudden weight on your tray, threatening to topple it entirely. A hand scrambling around, before closing on the towel. Bowing the best you could seated , you spoke your greetings.
"Good morning, Master."
A grunt of acknowledgement, before Jack stuffs his head into the towel, body shuddering at the contact. He squats down beside you in an attempt to catch his breath. His ears twitch, an eager sort of dance on the very top of his head.
How rather... cute.
A word you normally wouldn't associate with your master. Not with his imposing height, nor with his equally imposing body. Jack has a permanent scowl, and his default pose would be his arms crossed around his chest. Cute just wasn't the word.
Yet with his flushed cheeks, eyes gleaming from the joy of completing his runs. Tail beating a merry beat against his thigh, ears dancing jovially on his head...
The only word you could use to describe him now would be "cute".
Reaching out, your fingers find themselves grazing the very tip of his ears. Silver strands of fur greet you eagerly, allowing your fingertips to sink in their warm embrace. Soft as a feather.
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Jack's shoulders freezing, stiffening. He stood stock still, yet he didn't pull away from your touch. You took that as an invitation to continue.
Fingers dipping lower into the pink of his ears, you press your thumb onto his ear. You rub his ear gently, a light massage. A sigh from Jack, a contented sound. His head leans closer to your hands, quite literally sinking into your touch.
Your hand leaves his ears, instead opting to press against his scalp. You move your hand gently, your fingertips moving in unison, massaging his scalp. At this point, Jack's body was already leaning into yours, head nuzzling into your waist. His tail finds its way around you. Fur brushing against your skin as it wags, beating a passionate salsa into the doorstep.
A moment of silence, before your hand leaves his head. You drop it into your lap, looking at Jack sheepishly.
" Forgive my imprudence, Master."
He blinks at you, surprised at your sudden withdrawal. His lips curl into a smile, as soft as his tail. Jack reaches for your hand, before pulling it back onto his head. His thumb runs across your knuckles in appreciation, the callouses on it rough against your skin.
Jack's eyes meet yours, ember pupils warm as the sun.
" I never asked you to stop, did I?"
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mirroredmemoriez · 3 months
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Werewolves designs and other shit
Got bored- Remembered I have free choice to make posts on anything I want... So here I am with opinions no one asked for. As the title suggests, it's about werewolves. Starting off, I don't believe I need to explain what a werewolf is. However, I'll put it out there that in most descriptions and depictions it's meant to be a humanoid wolf. I say this because you'll find that in some movies or books it's just a person turning into a giant wolf with no human features or movement such as standing on two legs. (Or like a minotaur situation where the body is a human, but the head is a wolf.)
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Here I've collected just human references and anatomy- This is so I can make comparisons and such. Humans vary heavily in the way that we look, due to things such as lifestyle and genetics. At base level, of course we're HUMAN. However, things like our body types, hair texture, eye colour or shape and yada yada all can change the way we look and create differences between us and somebody else.
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This is the same for wolves, though maybe not as noticeable compared to humans? Mostly things like their size, coat colour or thickness and etc is what separates them from one another. Looking at their head shapes also can show what species they may be. Generally, they're a pretty lean animal seeing as wolves are known for their running endurance to hunt prey. Being too big would slow them down... I mention this because some depictions of werewolves people make them too muscular in my opinion? It's like they're hairy body builders. Speaking of werewolves- Let me try draw this post back to where I started it! First I wanna look at almost shifted werewolves, so not fully transformed.
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(Also I will be using depictions and characters which aren't labelled necessarily as a ''werewolf'' but share many features or similarities. For example, Bigby from The Wolf Among Us.) The common things we usually see is an increase in hairiness, canine growth and eyes becoming highlighted- Usually yellow, though sometimes the werewolf maintains their natural eye colour. We also have ears becoming pointed and the area around the eyebrows and forehead starting to protrude more. All of these things when done right I enjoy in a werewolf design! Though, it's a given that some do it better than others... One of my favourite werewolf designs and transformations has to go to the movie An American Werewolf In London.
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This to me is one of the PEAKS of werewolves in media. I could probably make a full post on just this movie... It's one of the most iconic designs and for good reason. Not to mention, I love practical effects, especially in horror. One of my dreams is to make a movie with them. Enough gushing though. What do I like? Well, it's grotesque nature really. A transformation shouldn't just be BAM you're a ball of fur in my eyes. The amount of change is crazy and so glossed over.
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The transformation literally has bones extending along with all the muscles and tissues alongside. Don't even get me started on what the organs may have to be doing? A human heart could not support a werewolf body, it just wouldn't be big enough... That muscle would literally have to increase in size to be able to deal with the power behind the body of a wolf. Yes, I'm aware they're supernatural and I shouldn't try heavily to apply science to them... However, I don't care? A TRANSFORMATION WOULD BE HORRFIC AND PAINFUL, SO IT SHOULD BE SHOWN AS SUCH! It's also why I headcanon that turned werewolves have the chance of just dying straight up with their first transformation, compared to ones just born as a werewolf because of how extreme the change is. Anyway! Some more designs.
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I think what some suffer from, is leaning either too close to a human and or leaning too close to a wolf? They can't find a balance and at times it's like a worse rendition of the Cats movie.
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Like here, the werewolves from The Quarry almost lean into some classic vampire depictions. The teeth I like! But the lack of hair and flatter snout just means it's not really screaming WEREWOLF at me.. More so a general mutant. (QUICK ADD! A flatter snout doesn't always break a design. It's just when other features such as hair are also lacking that it starts becoming less wolf in nature to me.) We've also got a more recent werewolf to look at... Which is Enid from the Wednesday show. Because fucking hell, that was a disappointment? She ended up looking like a mix between the Ice Age baby and Diego the saber tooth tiger.
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They did her so fucking dirty... And it would actually be very simple to fix! This could be salvaged- It just wasn't. Somebody saw that design and green lit it and whoever you are, why? I think I'll end this here now because I've reached the image limit... If anyone has any questions about certain things I've mentioned, feel free. I also want to state that this is pure opinion and by no means supposed to spread hate towards anything? It's your world, if you wanna draw your werewolves like the Sims 4, who am I to stop you? THIS IS MAL OUT! AND IF YOU'VE READ ALL OF THIS YOU'RE SOMEHOW MORE UNHINGED THAN I AM CURRENTLY. (I MAY MAKE A PT 2 AS I DO HAVE MORE THOUGHTS AND MENTIONS TO MAKE.)
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pomrania · 3 months
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Yeah I'm starting my Bestiaryposting design work really late; what can I say, time is fake and the world is filled with distractions. Here I'll just put whatever comes to mind, and then later hopefully find a way to put it all together.
carnivore (or at least ingests blood)
greyhound build??
strong jaws
can't turn neck around
"lives on its prey", parasite?
sometimes terrestrial, sometimes carried by the wind ((decided this was the wrong interpretation of the phrase))
hunts far away from its vulnerable young
has paws
tapetum luci-whatsit
wins if it sees a human first; loses if a human sees it first -> ambush predator
it can't literally be a wildcat (even if that's what this is intended to describe) because some of these features don't make sense with actual wildcats
magical patch of hair on the tail
don't eat for a while, and then eat a whole lot at once
manes in so many different colours (between individuals, or in a single individual?)
jumps like Superman; doesn't actually have wings
I'm like 95% sure this is describing some large cat, but it goes against the spirit of the event to just draw the animal I think it might be. There's only one bit here that doesn't make sense to me, like I'm genuinely not sure what it was trying to get across: "It is said to live sometimes on its prey, sometimes on earth and sometimes, even, on the wind." ...unless "live on" doesn't mean "physically reside upon", but rather "be nourished by", in which case things make more sense, but also I'm just left with like, a mythologized lion or leopard or tiger or whatever.
I don't want to draw a normal-ass large cat for something that's prolly a cat, I want to draw something WEIRD. Also because the description given for the creature would feel RIGHT at home in an old D&D 2E sourcebook, if they replaced "Solinus" for a more fantasy-sounding name.
Think I'll stick with a "wildcat as filtered through my vague memory" build though, to reduce the cognitive load. "Mane" can be like a lion's mane, but also like a horse's or donkey's, so that can make it weirder; and even if I stick with just viable fur colours, having a bunch all together will still look weird. Or it could be... I was going to say "tentacles", then I realized I'd end up unintentionally recreating the akata from Pathfinder/Starfinder, and I don't want to do that. "Fibre-optic cables" would be hilarious, but I don't know how I'd pull that off, and not sure if I want to try, depends on what all ideas I get.
"Can't turn head" makes possible sense as something with really highly developed jaw musculature, where everything's going towards force instead of flexibility. It said that strength was "least of all in its loins", but how to mesh that with something that can "tall buildings in a single bound" kind of jump... very springy legs I guess? The creature looks oddly unbalanced, in my head (because I haven't doodled anything yet), I need to consider what kind of features can "balance" it so it seems plausible, yet still deeply odd. Like, platypize it.
The bit about how it lives "sometimes on earth, sometimes on wind", going by the interpretation of "nourished by", that could be that it's an opportunistic insectivore, digging for grubs or snapping up flies. The "mane" could be something like a frill, to help tunnel bugs to its mouth; I don't know if that makes actual biological sense, but it's the "iunno, seems plausible enough" that you get in bestiary entries so I might go with that, if I can find a way to depict it that I like.
So, next stage is "staring blankly off into space while I consider things"; it's going to happen anyways, might as well make it an official part of the process. I might end up including some bat-like features, as there were bits in the description an made me think of bats, even if it was due to a misreading.
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Psst hey, Wsatw Headcanon time >:) One that Tails and Sonic were separated for several years for reasons they couldn't help. They finally find each other and have a very heartfelt reunion.
*sharp inhale*
I'm not even gonna be all loud about it this time, but I will give you kudos for putting that image in my brain there Non.
==
The two of them end up being away from each other longer than anticipated, they both decided to go on separate adventures to where they ended up on different continents and had a limited amount of time to call one another without something getting in the way and distracting them.
Once they do reunite, they're still the same yet so different at the same time.
.....
Ok, screw it. You gave me an idea and I went with it fully.
==
Sonic, of course, was the first one to see his little brother once they make plans to meet up and arrived at the planned rendezvous, the kid who had always literally looked up to him, was almost at the same height as him now, he could tell immediately even from the small amount of distance that separated the two currently.
A part of him wanted to run over and tackle him into a year's long worth of hugging and never let him go, the other part of him however took over and just watched to see how much the kid had changed from when he last saw him.
His fur had become a bit darker in color and was a bit more ruffled up around his tails and head, which proved that he still didn’t keep up with brushing his fur each day like he was supposed to. The back of his ears seemed to be gaining dark, brown patches and black tips right at the top of his ears.
He had all kinds of new attire on than what he usually carried on him, a toolbelt with many pouches carrying who knows what, a blue, oil-spotted scarf around his neck, and a pair of goggles sitting upon his head.
He even had a giant burlap sack slung over his shoulder that he impressively carried with one hand, Sonic could only guess that whatever was in there was going to be quite the dinner conversation to have later on.
One thing that didn't seem to change was whenever the fox was in a deep enough thought, he tended to sit completely still and stare off into space with a disinterested look on his face. Sonic audibly dubbed this as his "Mr. Rock face", much to Tails' disapproval and his amusement. That face was currently intact and internally betted that it's been more than 10 minutes since he even blinked.
"Tails!"
He saw Tails blink (ha, called it) out of his internal state and frown in confusion, his head turning in the other direction away from where Sonic was.
He shook his head and cupped a hand over his mouth. "Tails!"
The fox’s ears flick toward his direction and a sharp head turn follows afterward, a look of confusion quickly transforms into recognition and excitement. His tails started wagging back and forth and a wide smile masked his muzzle. Immediately, he dropped the huge bag off his shoulder and lifted himself into the air, flying straight towards him.
Sonic smiled just as heartily as a laugh spilled out from his chest, raising both his arms. "Hey!-"
His call was cut off as Tails flew directly into him, causing Sonic to lose his balance and bringing both of them down onto the grass. Sonic let out a pained grunt as his back hit the ground harder than he anticipated, the kid had definitely gotten stronger that's for sure.
"Ow. I was not ready for that one." He groaned, pulling his body up and rubbing a hand along Tails' back while the other gave a small scratch behind his ear.
"Are you trying to get back at me for missing your calls so much?" He joked lightly, feeling Tails curl up against him more. Sonic froze slightly, adjusted himself to a crisscross, and lifted him onto his lap, which in turn was an awkward position since he could barely fit on his lap anymore due to this growth spurt but he tried regardless.
"Hey, you okay?" He asked gently, all he got was Tails' voice being muffled as he had his face still hidden against his chest.
"Hmm? What was that?"
Tails moved his head away from his chest, glancing up at him with fresh tears forming in his eyes.
"-missed you", He finally said with a tearful smile. "I really missed you."
Sonic felt his heart fill up with a familiar feeling, a feeling he hadn't been able to hold onto as much as he wanted to over the years. Was it pride? Was it fondness? Was it joy? He couldn't tell, all that he knew was that it only happened a few times in his life ever since he took Tails in.
When he first shared a hug with Tails after the kit finally started to be more comfortable around him,
When he heard Tails say, "that's my bro'ter!" to random strangers walking past them,
When he witnessed him take down his first badnik all by himself without his help,
When the kid managed to stop Eggman from blowing up Station Square, among many other things that happened over the years.
But this? He wanted to hold onto this for as long as he could.
He gave Tails a tender smile, wrapping both his arms around him with his cheek resting on the side of his head and feeling his brother's arms tighten in response. "Missed you too little man. So much."
==
Psst, @starrjoy. It's still Wednesday where I am so I hope this counts :)
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peony-flowerking7 · 5 months
Text
The Long-armed Gibbon: Yuan
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Seize the Sun and Moon,
Shortened a thousands mountains,
Distinguish Auspicious from Inauspicious,
And Manipulates planets and stars
I am trying my best research for this monkey, it a bit difficult because of how Wu Cheng'en never did write about the other two monkeys. We only got like a short poem of it, but since the book is basically like. "Hey YOU DO WHAT YOU WANT" which is very appreciated Wu Cheng'en. I do wonder if we are going to see the other two primates in Lmk.
But anyhow I'm making my own head cannon of this monkey until we get her in the show! Hopefully idk, but this is my design of the Monkey. I would like to explore my head cannons now.
Yuan or Gibbon, from what I can think of is that their athletic and very skill with poetry, art, science and magic of course. Their powers are cosmical or dimensional magic, with also being able to control the balance of fortune and misfortune. Might think more later.
Since her design is based on luck and bad luck I went to research my little heart out and Red in Chinese is a lucky color but everybody knows that. This is literally color theory or something. White symbolizes mourning or death and black is also a unlucky color. But these are her normal clothes, their regular clothes could be considered more detailed.
Yuan backstory is something I'm working on but know that she, Wukong and Macaque were friends at some point. At some point they were friends but a mistake happened and now Wukong doesn't want to see her. (For now) Macaque doesn't entirely hate her, he can understand some part of it. He was just too full of rage and conflicting emotions to go find her.
Yuan has a big interest for humanity though, because of their interests for science the way humanity can create anything as long as they know their limits and have their hubris check. She is a good observer and has been watching over humanity and their process over the last thousands maybe even millions years ago.
I want to like do something with Yuan something dramatic. But I don't want to tell you guys because I like surprises especially for you my subjects! Maybe when I progress more and get the story cleaned out I can revealed more? Idk let see how it all goes. I'm just so proud of my works lately. Especially these monkey's.
Also she's not a fighter, just know that. Prefers to use words instead of fists, she knows she can be defeated easily so she avoids fighting at any cost. Not a coward move, they just think things can be resolved if words are involved.
Is she considered an oc? I don't think so since this is an interpretation.
Edit: I want to add that Gibbons don't have eyebrows so she shows emotions by her posture, elbows and their face like as you can see the fur on their face is like a eyebrow. I want to animated it actually.
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razzle-zazzle · 3 months
Note
Would you be willing to like, info dump about your Troll pupating headcanon that appeared in your Between AU? Just elaborate on how it works and such?
YES. Putting this under a cut because it's moderately long
Okay okay so. I don't know why but trolls are like. Little bugs to me. So I want to give them a few small bug traits, make them little creatures.
And pupation seemed like the most fun way to do that. A pupa is an insect's life stage where they undergo metamorphosis between larval and adult forms. In real life, most pupation involves larval structures breaking down while adult structures like wings develop—in that case of caterpillars, the bug sees itself liquified during the process (while still retaining memories of pre-pupation! neat!).
Of course, in canon, we see baby and child trolls all the time, and they're not that different from the main characters. So troll pupation isn't as drastic as it is for most real-life insects in my headcanon; rather, it might be better described as spedrun puberty.
So. The headcanon itself. At about 12 or 13 years of age, a trolling will start to experience a surge in appetite and drop in metabolism. I'm not entirely decided yet on whether the cocoon is something that they build up over time from spun/shed hairs, or if it's something more instantaneous formed directly from their hair—though I'm leaning more towards the latter.
The troll spends most of their pupation asleep. Body structures don't need to break down to the extent seen in real-life insects, so while some semi-drastic changes do happen (genitals develop and become accessible, though they won't be fully functional for a few years yet; hair lengthens and becomes stronger + able to shift color and length; new adult teeth, fur, and claws grow in), the troll remains pretty much intact the entire way through the process.
When they emerge, the troll isn't actually a full adult yet; though most of the major changes have been ticked off, it still takes a few years of regular growth before they can be considered fully mature.
A big thing about pupations is that trolls are adaptable. And I headcanon Pop Trolls to be one of the most adaptable genres (since pop is literally defined as "whatever's popular," though the genre itself has a few defining features), though all trolls pupate regardless of genre. So trolls that are under a lot of stress or caught in unusual conditions may find themselves emerging from their pupations with new features outside of what's normally expected. These adaptations aren't super drastic—for example, a Pop Troll raised by Techno Trolls wouldn't emerge with the exact same structure as a Techno Troll; rather, they'd get webbed paws and bigger lung capacity (maybe bioluminescence if they're lucky) at the most. Lost limbs can occasionally be regrown during pupation if the injury was recent enough, and most scars will fade during pupation.
So why does Branch pupate at fifteen in my headcanons? Simple: he's gray. The lack of color is more than just a signifier of his disposition; it has direct physiological consequences with regards to Branch's growth rate and metabolism. His troll endocrine system released the necessary hormones to induce pupation late as a result. Hormones being what they are, it's possible for a fully-colored troll to have a delayed or even early pupation, but such deviation tends to be rare.
In the Between AU, Branch loses his tail at roughly thirteen years old. When he pupates about two years later, his body adapts to the whole "living with creatures twenty times his size" situation, and instead of regrowing his tail his hips and legs shifted to accommodate the new balance.
tl;dr my troll growth headcanons are a mix of mammalian (human) style puberty and buglike metamorphosis; trolls speedrun their puberty in a hair cocoon
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Text
*clothing rustle*
HOW TO UNDRESS A GILBERT
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GILBERT × R E A D E R VON OBSIDIAN
✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ WARNING 200% crack, 15% random smut. Please don't take anything here seriously, or literally, or as fact. WORD COUNT ~3000 AO3 clicky
MINORS / AGELESS BLOGS DNI
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※ Due to the nature of Gilbert's outfit, it is strongly recommended that he be standing when you start.
STEP 1
The cloak has to go first. His gloves are skin-tight enough that they won't interfere with the removal of other articles beforehand (pun intended). The belt on the cloak attaches just above his left breast-pocket using a heavy-duty clasp.
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Except just-kidding, that's a red-herring in case someone decides to unclasp his cloak in close-quarters-battle to use against him. Unfortunately, anyone fool enough to try will just be giving Gilbert the upper-hand.
To actually unfasten his cloak you have to sneak your hand under the cloak's collar where the other end of the belt disappears into. There's a hidden push-button clasp there. Gilbert isn't ticklish but he'll certainly pretend he is just to fuck with you.
The fur is attached directly to the collar of the cloak, so this is a one-and-done deal. Be aware that the cloak is extremely heavy and don't be afraid to just drop it on the spot and enjoy the beautiful WHUMP that it makes, like angel wings come to rest.
STEP 2
Your next stop is the secondary belt that crosses diagonally over his chest.
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This belt is a mystery, and for reasons of national importance you are not permitted to know how to remove it. Gilbert must always be the one to remove this belt. I repeat. GILBERT MUST REMOVE THIS BELT HIMSELF. It's not just a simple single-pronged screw-clasp belt. Don't get cocky.
STEP 3
Now for his main belt. The plate buckle must be lifted half a centimeter towards you at a precise 180 degree angle so you can slide the leather through the hook on the plate's underside. You may consider doing this while cornering Gilbert against a wall. If you're feeling bold, advise him not to touch you until you're done. Before handling the buckle, you might angle his hips closer toward you by giving the strap a tug.
Don't tug on just the belt loop by itself because it'll throw you off-balance and put you in a vulnerable position for a sensual counter-attack. Unless you're wearing a hat that hides your ears for some reason. I mean Gilbert would just cutely headbutt the hat off you, but why did you bring a hat to this?
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CAUTION. The outer edge of the buckle is lined with poison that activates by touch. The poison can penetrate any fabric except for the mysterious medieval nano-material that Gilbert's gloves consist of. This is why you'll never see Gilbert remove his belt bare-handed (though he has the antidote if he must; and yes, he'll try to convince you that the antidote must be administered mouth-to-mouth, but you must remain vigilant! Think about it: does that make any sense? No? Good. Gilbert was just testing you).
Yeah. It's probably best if you leave this belt to Gilbert too. But if he lets you borrow his gloves just so you can undress him, count yourself lucky. And if Gilbert gets you your own matching set of gloves, I mean that's basically a marriage proposal.
But wait, you say, remembering a thing. Didn't Gilbert stick his glove between his teeth that one time after presumably touching his cane?
No he didn't. That's not a CG that exists. What are you talking about? What wet-suitor collection event?
Fine, okay. Yes. That happened. The rain washed away the poison 💀
STEP 4
The mini-waistbelt. It may be thin, but it has a massive temper if you try to remove it. Would not recommend trying it if you value having a nose and teeth.
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But since you've already come this far, the steps to remove it are as follows:
Pray.
Tell your loved-ones you love them, or have secretly hated them this entire time.
Place your left hand on Gilbert's right hip; make sure you have proper footing.
Place your right hand on the belt buckle like you're pinching a flaccid penis that is much, much, much tinier than Gilbert's flaccid penis.
Pray again in case you skipped step one.
Use your thumbnail to test the prong. Consider the materials, the craftsmanship, the German Engineering.
Hold your breath and rip the belt from his waist; he can always replace the belt.
Redeem your kiss from Gilbert, and for fuck's sake take off that hat.
If you trip over the discarded belt because you didn't throw it far enough away:
Please, I do insist you pray.
Try to trip directly onto Gilbert's chest so he can live out all of his otome fantasies. Let him commit your scent to memory.
It's okay to grab his cravat in the process because it won't loosen or tighten either way [see section on his cravat below]
It's not okay to grab his pants because no one wants to be pantsed by accident. Also Gilbert's pants don't come off that easy, so you'd just end up dislocating your arm.
If you trip into a natural, organic, Whole Foods fellatio-giving posture, take advantage of it. Gilbert's still wearing too many layers to give a proper, unimpeded blowjob, but just ghosting your mouth over the area with a hint of teeth will make him feel desirable.
Rub some sensual circles through the fabric of his pants; spell out your name with his last name appended onto it (Gilbert is a genius and he can easily-read any message you rub onto his shaft). His inner thighs, particularly past the adductor muscles back toward his glutes, are incredibly sensitive. Placing your palms against them and slowly fanning your fingers out while you nom on his bulge will quietly destroy him. Too bad you can't see his surprised-sprite-expression in the night.
STEP 5
At this stage you should be down to his military coat. You can ignore the epaulets and ropework and tasselry (unless you want to take a moment to mourn all the carnage they represent) because they're all directly attached to the coat.
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If you find yourself tangled in the ropes in your attempt to free Gilbert's arm, don't worry. You have a few half-seconds before Gilbert ensnares you further and halts your honest undressing efforts with erotic tickling.
Use this time well. Consider using Gilbert's own cane to jam the insides of his elbows. The maneuver will both stop him and impress him. But also, do not actually do this, because his cane is coated in that same poison from before.
Why is there such a learning-curve to undressing this man? Don't worry though. Why? I don't know.
The coat itself requires extreme focus while unbuttoning. You don't have to go in order, but if you don't, you run the risk of becoming confused about which buttons you have or haven't touched. Gilbert's coat is what the common people refer to as an optical illusion, and what Clavis calls "an intellectual torture device". It is strongly recommended that you study the unbuttoning maneuver on a practice-coat.
And to be sure, at NO point is Gilbert going to help you on this one. You're screwed if you mess up. And Gilbert is going to enjoy every last second of it.
If by some stroke of luck you manage to get his coat off, please be kind enough to fold it and set it on his bed. You can also consider draping it over the window for some extra privacy, but imagine you're an Obsidianite soldier on the ground below and you see your boss's coat covering the window? You're gonna think to yourself, "Oh no, the boss is doing laundry in his room again. I should stop this before it escalates." There goes your hard-sought privacy.
STEP 6
Congratulations are in order because you have reached his shirt. Sure, there's a cravat with an extremely convoluted knot staring you in the face, but it's better than a clip-on tie, is it not?
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I assure you, the knot hidden behind the brooch is not one to be trifled with. It even took Gilbert himself two tries to master it despite being the one to invent it. He wears this particular knot for its strength. It will not come loose or tighten unless someone knows what they're doing.
Despite betraying nothing beyond his evergreen smile, Gilbert is absolutely running out of patience by this point. So rest assured, because he'll gently take your hands in his and dance them through the steps of cravat-removal. Feel free to enjoy the "accidental" brushes against his chin and the skin of his throat. Chilly but sweet. This will be a welcome respite before the horror to come.
The horror being, you know that party trick with the endless scarves?
Good luck.
STEP 7
Gilbert's shirt, upon first-glance, resembles a normal shirt with normal shirt-like properties, such as a post-contemporary thread-count, invisible buttons, hidden seams, etc. It's somewhat loose-fitting but tapers beautifully into his waistband; so prettily in-fact that you might think clothed-sex would be a better option at this point.
But Gilbert didn't allow you to come this far so he could keep his cock behind enemy lines.
If you won't stop admiring his torso, he'll take your hands again and start biting each fingertip. If you're still dazed by his beauty afterwards, he'll switch your positions so that you're against the wall and his knee is against your sensitive bits pulsing pressure in a maddening upward motion.
To avoid this, you need to tear his shirt off. You need to free Gilbert's skin unto moonlight's stage at any costs. Hook your fingertips into the spaces between the buttons. Press your crotch against Gilbert's for leverage. If you need to lay down for this part, please do so.
The shirt will not be kind to you. The weave is too strong, the tensile-strength too god-like. You'll never know what it is to truly sweat until you go hand-to-shirt against Gilbert's spider-silk.
Gilbert for his part will do his best to offer moral support by rocking his hips upward into the warm crux where your bodies meet. Sure his pants are still in the way, but you'll never know a more loving gesture.
"You are not your shirt." You can try to whisper this to Gilbert to make him feel better about this whole ordeal. "You're my Gil. You are not your shirt."
The shirt has feelings too. So after you successfully remove it and have finished orgasming from Gilbert's languid dry-humping, please fold the shirt and place it on top of his coat. If his coat is over the window, place the shirt on the ottoman at the foot of his bed and give it two pats. We're all about aftercare here.
STEP 8
The thigh-garter. Quite possibly the most heavily-reinforced article this man wears. If it looks simple to your untrained eye, that is by design. It's meant to blend into his pants. If he were trying to flaunt it, his coat wouldn't have that suspicious, longer-on-one-side uneven cut.
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Recoil? Poison? Child's-play. Gilbert himself nearly lost a hand the last time he went to remove the garter. The belt is made from a baffling and impossible weave of tiger-gut (died from natural causes) and coir fabric. That time Gilbert stole 100,000 coconuts off a Benitoitian beach was... not for the coir, but the discovery of such a useful byproduct was serendipitous and it was immediately put to use.
You need to incorporate this bit of trivia into small-talk with Gilbert while you attempt to remove the garter. It will take you 58 seconds, but those seconds will be the longest of your life. Your heartbeat will quicken and slow down and quicken again. Sweat will call your grip into question. The technique will require you to slide your finger into the space between the garter and the itchy indent on his thigh from where the garter has been digging into. Gilbert will bury his face into your shoulder and make the most precious moaning sound you've ever heard. He'll bite your shoulder, and he might break skin. The odds were against you from the start.
STEP 9
Could it be? Have you arrived at his trousers?
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Are you beside yourself with frustration from being unable to distinguish the shape of his bulge because the fabric is so dark as to be formless velvet? Does it annoy you that the only way you can confirm how hard Gilbert is for you is by touching him? Do you see why this might be by design?
It was stated earlier in this guide that Gilbert's pants are difficult to remove. Not for him, obviously, but for his partner. Luckily the pants are easier to handle than his shirt was. You're probably still reeling from that harrowing episode, so now is a great time for a tea break while shirtless!Gilbert massages your thigh under the table.
You can ask him for some advice on how to proceed with his pants. Where are the buttons? There are no buttons? Is there some kind of waistband? No waistband? Really? That's interesting. How do you remove it, Prince Gilbert? What? Tongs? Oh, you're joking. You're not joking? What in the actual fuck.
He was asking you to pass the tongs so he could serve you a scone, but you didn't know that at the time, and accidentally took a pair of tongs to his hips.
Now. Two things here. 1) Obviously if a pair of dessert tongs posed any threat to Gilbert he'd not have let it so close into his territory. 2) But you happened to accidentally time it just as he'd timed a sneeze to appear more affectionate in your eyes. Sometimes the planets align for all the wrong reasons.
Don't worry; Gilbert's okay! The tongs were wooden and heavily-sanded and they glided over Gilbert's hip-bones like lip balm. Now would also be a good time to glide your lips over his hip-bones. Really, really enjoy that god-given architecture.
Next, you can try to pull him on top of you as you lay on your back across the tea table (please hurl everything off the tabletop beforehand). Stick two fingers into his nonexistent(?) waistband and trace your hands backwards away from you, lowering your palms into his pants as you go, so by the time you reach his backside you should be cupping his shapely ass. Massage it, knead it. You'll find his slacks will naturally drop a little to accommodate your roving hands.
Now, whereas Gilbert was the one grinding up against you in the shirt section, you must offset your handiwork here in the exalted pants section by grinding up against him. Hook your legs around his if you have to. Be a couple of sexy grapevines.
It's best to tease his pants lower and lower. Take your time and time will take you.
STEP 10
Gilbert's undergarments are a classified state secret. Don't worry; he took care of them before you even started.
STEP 11
HAHAHA SOMEHOW. Somehow you've made it this far without removing his boots. Somehow you removed his pants without removing his boots.
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How? How did you do this? WHY did you do this? Do you like seeing Gilbert wearing nothing but his boots and his gloves? Is that your aesthetic? Do you imagine him sitting on his dark, moonlit, cobwebby throne like that, with one boot-ed leg over the other, cane held across his belly between the armrests as he watches you watching him?
Do you fancy breaching his lap and plopping down on his cock while he cups your ass with one hand and scrapes his gloved-fingernails down your spine? Do you like feeling his shoelaces press into your skin underneath because it's such a bizarre counter-texture to the sensation of his tongue gliding up your sternum? Does it make you hot when he grabs a fistful of your hair and tugs your head back so he can nuzzle your jawline while chuckling at all the mewling sounds you make? Are you about that friction? Do you like the squeaky sound of his boots as he bounces you up and down?
Just me? :')
Also what even happened to the cane in this scenario? Is it on the floor now? Don't trip, friends.
CONCLUSION
It was a long battle. There were some close-calls. You may have experienced multiple orgasms on the way. Sustained a gallery of lovebites. But Gilbert is now stripped bare, save for his gloves and eyepatch.
Most importantly, you're not dead from all the poison. Gilbert was kind enough to treat all the poison on him with rainwater beforehand, and he'll have made this clear to you from the beginning. This guide was lacking suspense amidst all the crack, and so that information was intentionally withheld.
The author of the guide recognizes that gloves add an extra layer of allure to intimate activities with Gilbert, so it is up to the reader if they wish to proceed with removal or not. The process is simple. You just take 'em off.
FAQ
What if I'm capable of removing his cloak while he's laying on it? More power to you. Don't let my limitations as a mere human be the standard by which you judge yourself.
Help. I want to try bondage with Gilbert, but the mini-waistbelt is the only viable option. Please don't forget his endless-scarves-infinite-cravat. Snip off whatever length you need. It'll grow back the deficit. The fabric is BDSM-certified.
The coat fell from the window. Run.
I took his boots off too early and now I can't enjoy the feel of his shoelaces on my ass. Put them back on him. Lace them with care. Don't just half-ass a lacing pattern like you used to do in grade-school. Remember: the pleasure you derive from his shoelaces is directly proportional to the artistry with which they are tied. Please hone your skills on a practice-boot if you are not confident. We all have to start somewhere.
Gilbert's moans are too cute. I couldn't get past the garter section. Feel free to take your tea-break early if this is the case. Talk about your concerns and listen to Gilbert's. Communication is key, and that tea was prepared with love.
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Thank you for reading! If you found this guide useful, please consider hitting the reblog button ^^ I hope your time with Gilbert is extraordinary, unforgettable and magic.
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Why Blaze is so Cool
There's not gonna be much of a preamble on this, it's basically just what the title says. We're gonna go over Blaze's design, character arc, and personality + miscellaneous, all while comparing and contrasting with Sonic, who she was created to be a rival and a friend to. And hopefully by the end of it I will have convinced you that Blaze is one of the best characters in this franchise. And maybe converted a couple to my Sonaze agenda by explaining just how good of rivals and friends they are, although that is secondary.
Let's go. Put under a cut because I don't hate my followers MOST of the time.
Part 1: Design
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Blaze's design, like most characters in this franchise, is simple and striking. In terms of pure aesthetic it's very cohesive, with a good balance of visual elements and an excellent color palette to make her stand out among the already extensive cast of characters.
Not only is it aesthetically pleasing, it also portrays her character very well. Her clothing, which is formal yet practical (unlike most princesses in fiction she wears pants instead of a floofy dress) and it also shows that she's of royal blood. Purple, especially darker purple like with her tailcoat and the tips of her tail and "ponytail", is often used to signify royalty in fiction, and that combined with the gold necklace gives attentive audience members multiple clues towards the fact that she's kind of a big deal. The flared out cuffs on her gloves and shoes like just a tiny bit like fire. Admittedly her wearing heels is not very practical, but heels are generally seen to be a formal shoe, again tying into the royalty thing. Additionally, the fact that they are small heels (kitten heels, to be precise) makes it far more believable than if she was running around in high heels, and the fact that Blaze the Cat is specifically wearing kitten heels is adorable. The fact that she is wearing a bindi also is a subtle indication that she isn't from Sonic's dimension, as we have never seen any kind of accessory like that before in this franchise. Finally, Blaze's "hair" being tied back into a ponytail is used to show her personality: withdrawn, restrained, and work focused.
Her Super Form, Burning Blaze, also has an exceptionally cool design. Her colors turn from primarily purple with hints of red, pink, and gold to primarily red, with hints of purple, gold, and pink. Her hair, tail, and the cuffs on her gloves and shoes all turn into fire and drift up, showing just how much her power level has increased that her fire powers are literally leaking out of her. It looks raw as hell, to put it simply.
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Okay, so Blaze by herself looks cool as fuck, and her design makes sense for her character. But how was she designed to be an equivalent and yet alternate Sonic?
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There's a lot I'm going to go into here, so I'll just start with the big ones right off the bat. Beginning with their color palettes, both of their main colors (purple and blue) are right next to each other on the color wheel, and they are similar, but not the exact same, in hue. Additionally, purple (Blaze's fur color) inverted is green (Sonic's eye color), and blue (Sonic's fur color) inverted is yellow (Blaze's eye color). Other aspects of their designs contrast as well: Blaze has sharp eyes and a small nose, Sonic has round eyes and a long nose. In terms of attire, however, they're actually fairly similar. Both have pure white gloves with pure white cuffs, both have the same shoe design (solid color shoe designed to help them run fast interrupted by a white stripe in the middle) with the only differences being Sonic wearing red boots, Blaze wearing pink heels. They also both wear gold on what is most likely their most prized possession: Sonic has a gold buckle on the shoes that help him run fast and freely, Blaze has a gold necklace on the tailcoat that signifies her status as a royal.
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Super Sonic and Burning Blaze are also designed to complement each other. Super Sonic is golden with firey red eyes, Burning Blaze is red with glowing golden eyes. Additionally, in specifically the version of Super Sonic we see depicted in Sonic Rush, his quills are chaotic, almost like they've been windswept: his own powers let loose by the Chaos Emeralds, like Blaze's have been with the Sol Emeralds.
Part 2: The Character Arc
Sonic Rush and Sonic Rush Adventure, while having Sonic's name on the title, is basically Blaze's story, with Sonic simply serving as a catalyst for Blaze's development.
Beginning with Sonic Rush, Blaze is introduced as someone who is competent, but alone. She crashlands in Sonic's dimension alone, and if not for Cream's (and later Sonic's) interference, she would have failed in her mission, despite her competence, because she was alone and with no one to back her up. Over the course of the game she slowly opens up to characters other than Sonic (most notably Cream) while also hearing about how cool and awesome Sonic is and how he can help her with her mission, which is something that she absolutely does not want. So when she finally meets the hedgehog himself, and has a proper conversation with him, just like a true Sonic rival-to-be-turned-friend, she lashes out. And just like every other rival Sonic turns into a friend, she ends up needing sense literally beat into her.
(Side note but while obviously in the real world violence is a last resort for conflict resolution, I'm glad that the first female Sonic rival wasn't treated differently than every other male rival up to this point, and it makes sense for both characters that they would fight their emotions out rather than actually talking)
But, after getting all that frustration out of their systems, Sonic is finally able to make Blaze see what's been in front of her the whole time: she needs help just like everyone else, and if she doesn't accept it she's going to get others and herself hurt. Lesson learned with a hopefully minimal amount of bruising along the way, Blaze is able to form an alliance with Sonic, and while they head their separate ways again, it's not out of stubbornness and fear of relying on others on Blaze's part this team: it's because she trusts Sonic to do his part just as she knows that she can do her part.
But Sonic still has one more lesson to teach Blaze, and as cheesy as it may be, he teaches her about the power of friendship, which in franchises like Sonic the Hedgehog the power of positive thoughts and feelings do have real effects on the world all these characters live in. With the alliance between Sonic and Blaze having turned into a proper friendship, the two are able to defeat the enemies threatening the rest of your friends, and they share a sweet moment together (with Blaze holding her hand out to Sonic, for once) before Blaze returns to her home dimension.
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Blaze's arc in Sonic Rush isn't exactly complex, but I'd argue that complicated arcs are really only things that the comics have touched on, for both better and worse. The simplicity of her arc allows for it to be solid and easily understandable, and it doesn't magically fix everything or make her an entirely different character. Blaze still has to return home at the end of the game despite literally holding on for as long as she could, and she's still emotionally reserved, quiet, and work focused, but now those things no longer dominate her personality to her own detriment.
Blaze's arc in Sonic Rush Adventure on the other hand, shows that she still has a ways to go. While she did fractionally open up in the original game, both Sonic and Cream are just naturally charming and sweet with few downsides to their personalities. Additionally, she only ever really worked with Sonic himself, who is essentially an equal in terms of competence and power. Marine, on the other hand... well, she's an excellently written character, but that doesn't change the fact that in universe she isn't a super competent fighter, she talks a lot, has a big head, and a plethora of other tiny flaws, all of which add up when you're trying to save the world. Throughout Rush Adventure Blaze first rejects Marine for her relative uselessness, and then learns to appreciate Marine for what she can do as well as the fact that she is trying to get better, just like Blaze once did. Blaze goes from being helped by Sonic to being a guiding figure for Marine, and it's likely that despite no further game appearances from Marine, they formed a bond similar to Sonic and Tails, again showing that Blaze is an alternate equivalent to Sonic (and also that the same goes for Marine and Tails, but that's a whole other post).
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Sonic in the Rush series doesn't really have a narrative arc, but he doesn't need one, as these are essentially Blaze's games with Sonic as a consistent helping force.
Part 3: The Personality and the Little Details
Of course, a solid design and decent storyline doesn't really help if the character has all the personality of a slice of bread. Thankfully Blaze has personality to spare, even if she is on the more stoic side of the cast.
Blaze's personality is also extremely cool, both standalone and as an inversion to Sonic's. She's pretty unique among the girls in the series (who tend to be friendly, outgoing, sociable, and personal desire oriented: Amy, Cream, Tangle, Rouge, etc.) while Blaze is more withdrawn and cold than the others (ironic, given her name), and puts the needs of her kingdom ahead of her own wants and her needs. She is duty and goal oriented when we first meet her, not concerned with friends at all, and in fact she has none (basically the opposite of Sonic, except for the fact that he is occasionally goal oriented when the time arises. She's obsessed with being able to do everything by herself to the point of turning down Sonic's help and later attacking him to keep him out of the way, while he reaches out to her on multiple occasions. She is stoic, quiet, withdrawn, shy, has emotional and often aggressive outburts when she thinks she's been personally insulted or if someone gets in the way of her goals, and is primarily responsible. Sonic is enthusiastic, loud, outgoing, bold, does not care what others think of him and will often slow down for personal fun even if there are more serious matters, and is primarily laid back. She over thinks, he barely thinks. I could go on.
The two of them together create a balance. Fire power vs wind power. Wind=Fire Hazard, without oxygen a fire cannot even get started. She is royalty who is strict and honor bound and never seems out fights unless she thinks they are necessary, he is... Basically a homeless adventurer who gets into fights and danger for fun. She has a special link to the Sol Emeralds, he has a special link to the Chaos Emeralds. Her fighting style is based off ballet, his is based off of breakdancing. Fire needs order and focus to burn properly, if let loose it can cause massive damage. Wind needs freedom and space to blow freely, if stifled it will just peter out. Despite being a cat with fire powers she is alright in water but hates height (likely because more height=less oxygen=less fire power for her), he is a hedgehog who cannot swim yet operates quite well in air, despite cats irl being good with heights and bad with water, and the opposite for hedgehogs. "Blaze" meaning fiercely burning fire, the power she controls, (also indicating high speed), "Sonic" meaning relating to sound waves, the speed he can surpass (also also indicating high speed).
Because she's Sonic's equivalent, she's also basically his equal in combat, being the only female to tie with Sonic in a fight while a) not being a literal god cus Sonic fights literally gods and b) not having any power ups. He's slightly faster, but she has more (literal) fire power on her side. Their fighting styles also contrast with each other, I've already mentioned the ballet vs breakdancing thing but also there's Sonic's spontaneity vs Blaze's controlled movements, his rush and agility vs her grace and power, his tendency to annoy enemies into making mistakes and flit around them like an annoying bug, while Blaze just charged them head on and overwhelms them. Sonic's fight style is all based off of learning it the hard way, Blaze's is most likely based off of literal training as she is a princess. They mostly have contrast with some interesting overlaps, showing how they are as similar as they are different.
Another interesting thing about them is that Blaze attempts to keep all her emotions under check and is kinda bad at it, she can rarely conceal more extreme emotions and she gets loud and obvious about them, whereas Sonic initially appears to wear his emotions on his sleeve, but when it comes to more serious emotions and when he gets pushed emotionally he becomes quieter, colder, and more withdrawn. Blaze can become an open book and he slams shut. Blaze being surrounded by people for her entire life but not having any emotional connections with them vs Sonic most likely being alone before he met Eggman and Tails and then choosing to surround himself with friends and loved ones. Their contrast in life stories and their personalities was insanely well thought out and it really shows. And on a more subjective level, they just look really cool when paired together, because that was literally how they were designed.
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Anyway in conclusion. Blaze is a fucking amazing character and a great rival and friend to Sonic, she deserves so much more attention in the franchise and fandomoverall and specifically should be played off of Sonic more because she was literally designed to be HIS friend and rival, Rush and Rush Adventure deserve remakes and also a proper sequel, and if they do ever make any of those then I will scream and cry and wail etc. and also Sonaze is the best ship in the franchise prove me wrong
TLDR: Blaze cool
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cosmickaz · 9 months
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Catching Captains
one-shot (754 words)
Pairing: Rex x Reader
Genre: Fluff
He didn’t even know you were in the room with them, too distracted by the unknown environment and the familiar presence of his brothers. They say when you’ve known someone for long enough, you’ll be able to sense their presence before you even know they’re there. If he didn’t spend most of his life working and living alongside Jedi—if he were a different man—he would have dismissed the thought as romantic but ultimately unrealistic. As things stood however, he would be foolish to dismiss one’s intuition.
Despite being surrounded by troopers he’d trained and trained with virtually all the time, there seemed to be something special in the air, whenever one of his closest brothers was part of the action. Better yet, there was something in him that always seemed to know exactly when a member of his inner circle was about to interrupt a briefing he was giving to other members of his battalion. The same way the hairs in his neck could sense an approaching danger, or the feeling in his gut warned him that this time, he might want to pay the crew in a particular bomber under his command one last visit before they deployed on a mission without him.
But he hadn’t sensed you at all.
He saw the weathered couch you crouched before, the neon sign of the fire exit, the freaking cat you were petting, but not. you.
It took him literally tripping over you for him to finally meet you.
“Shit, sorry.” He tried to apologize and then, breathless, somehow: “I didn’t see you.”
There was amusement in your voice when you told him not to worry about it and if he wasn’t already on his knees to help you collect the stuff he’d knocked from your bag, he was sure he would have made an even greater fool of himself.
“Really, it’s on me, I left my bag laying on the floor like that, you didn’t even touch me.”
Truth be told, Rex hadn’t even noticed he was still babbling apologies until you cut him off again.
“No harm done,” you added, still smiling at the thought of one of the GAR’s infamous clone troopers tripping over, well, certainly not your bag. That you had managed to knock over yourself when the sudden movement of a falling body had startled you.
“Wouldn’t be too sure about that,” he murmured, trying desperately not to let it show how much the whole situation flustered him. “Cat seems pretty mad about it.”
You followed to where he’d nodded and laughed at the absolute nasty look your little companion gave the Captain of the 501st. “Oh dear.”
Rex didn’t see you when he first walked in the room, but Maker, he would not be making the same mistake twice. He wasn’t even sure he would be able to stop looking at you.
Like, ever.
How had he not seen you?
“Well, guess you’ll have to put your training to good use. She’s just joined the Dark Side.” Your expression dropped and you deepened your voice to mimic the dramatic tone of his general.
That finally got a laugh out of him. “I’m sure the Jedi will welcome the new challenge.”
“Oh, let’s not bother the Jedi with this. I was thinking-” it was your turn now to avoid his eyes. You really hoped you weren’t being too forward. “Since you’re the one who interrupted her nap, maybe you can make it up to her?”
You’d think it was impossible to lose balance while sitting on the floor—when did he settle down on the ground like that?—but if Rex had learned anything in his time as a trooper, it was how to exceed expectations. And so, he fell. Again.
“You sure she can forgive me?” His voice was laden with unnamed emotion, eyes training on the purring creature between you.
Your touch was gentle, barely brushing over soft fur, and with a sudden sadness, he thought of the calloused skin of his own hands.
“I’m sure. She trusts my judge of character. And I happen to like you.”
Suddenly, the world shifted back into focus again. The stale air of the room and the moving bodies around him returned with a tingling in his arms and legs and Rex readjusted his stance as he composed himself and did a mental sweep of his surroundings. And what do you know, there you were, clear as day.
“Then I guess we’ll have to meet again.”
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simizzy-writes · 2 years
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happy birthday, Law!
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Pairing: Trafalgar D. Water Law x GN!Reader
Warnings: none. just super fluffing fluffy~
A/N: the cliche is birthday sex i'm sure, but mannnn this doc just needs some fluffy feels in his life. happy birthday, you sexy thing!
+ consider supporting me on ko-fi +
He should be thankful for birthdays. 
Law knew better than anyone that a long life was never a guarantee. But celebrating his birthday never felt quite right after that terrible, terrible night. When he lost everything. Maybe it was survivor's guilt. In fact, it most definitely was. 
But despite his own feelings on the subject, his crew always made the effort to celebrate. Maybe it was just an excuse to party, but Law never made an attempt to stop their generosity. He did have one rule, however. 
No gifts.
This rule became established after receiving one too many tacky shirts that never fit, a polar bear pajama onesie, absolutely atrocious alcohol Penguin swore was sake and not swill, a tacky gold necklace that said "Love Doctor" in gold filigree….the list went on. 
So, he let it be known that if anything were to be given to him, let it be in the form of food. Onigiri, preferably. That had yet to be fucked up. Key word being yet, but he remained hopeful that it never would. 
"Happy Birthday, Captain!" 
Bepo eagerly bounced over to Law, paws carrying a large, handmade birthday card. Stickers and awkwardly cut shapes were stuck all over the front, and he could see that most of the glue was still wet. A tiny drop fell from one colorful corner of the paper to the floor. 
"We all signed it," Bepo beamed. He handed the card over to his captain, and waited with hopeful eyes for Law's reaction.
The birthday boy opened the card carefully, trying to avoid wet glue and glitter from getting on his hands more than necessary. True to the Mink's words, the inside was covered in diverse signatures. Happy birthday wishes, smiley faces, jokes about him getting old…a little bit of everything was written throughout. Law smiled, and thanked his dear friend. 
Bepo enveloped him in a - literal - bear hug, and informed him that mountains of onigiri were being prepped in his honor in the galley. 
"Your favorite! We made sure to make all of your favorite fillings, too," Bepo said. "We were thinking about having a picnic on the main deck since the weather is supposed to be good tonight. Shachi said that there might even be a meteor shower!"
Law nodded. "Sounds like a plan." 
He noticed small bits of rice stuck to his friend's fur. With a smirk, he asked if Bepo was the 'quality assurance' tester in the kitchen. The polar bear blushed, and sheepishly said that he couldn't resist.
"[Name] is the best cook! They always lets me taste-test when they're on cooking duty," Bepo sighed dreamily. 
Law was aware. Normally, the duties that were assigned on the Polar Tang rotated to ensure fairness, but it was kind of an unspoken agreement that you would cook more often than not. You were an exceptional cook, and spared no expense to make sure that everyone had delicious meals every day. 
His birthday onigiri was in capable hands tonight.
"Don't drop them!"
"If you watch where you're going I won't!"
Penguin and Shachi bickered back and forth, trying to balance two large and heavy trays out of the kitchen. The silver trays were piled high with fresh onigiri. Little pieces of heaven stuff with tuna, salmon, roe, kombu seaweed, yaki….and much more. Ikkaku and Uni balanced even more trays of onigiri as they followed the other men out of the kitchen. 
You sighed as you wiped your hands on your apron. How long had you been in this kitchen? Too long, but it was a worthwhile endeavor today. Well, it was worthwhile everyday but today was special. It was your Captain's birthday, and you couldn't resist going the extra mile to make sure he had enough of his favorite food. With that in mind, you smiled as you looked at the remnants of today's work. 
"Do those need to go out to the deck?"
You turned, and saw Law standing in the doorway. He pointed to a tray that had a handful of onigiri on them, but you shook your head. 
"No, those ones are for me. They have umeboshi in the middle."
The mere mention of pickled plums made his expression sour, and you laughed. 
"Don't worry, the rest are filled with only your favorites," you said. You removed your apron and set it aside, and you picked up a separate tray that had some uniquely shaped onigiri on it. Some looked like Bepo, others were shaped like whales and penguins. "These are special. Happy birthday!"
Law took the tray, and smiled at how cute they looked. "Seems like a crime to eat something like this. They look great. Thank you."
You felt shy under his gaze, and offered him a bashful 'you're welcome ' in return. A moment passed before you cleared your throat and informed him that you had something to give him.
"I wasn't aware that there was a rule about not getting you any gifts," you explained. "I had already picked out a present for you before Ikkaku told me about it. Um…After dinner, I can give it to you, if you want? When the others aren't around?"
His gray eyes twinkled as an amused, crooked smirk pulled at his lips. He was intrigued, of course, and forgiving towards your trespass against the 'no gifts' rule. You had only been a part of his crew for about a year, having joined after his last birthday. There wasn't a way you could have known, he supposed.
"Alright," he said. Law asked if you needed help with anything else, and when you assured him that you didn't, he made his way up to the deck. 
You gathered up your tray of heathenous umeboshi onigiri, and followed after him.
"[Name]!"
A harsh whisper of your name stopped you. Ikkaku was by your side in a flash, eyes wide and excited. 
"You got the captain a present?! What is it?!"
You hushed her. "Zip it! Don't let the others hear you!"
She placed a hand over her lips, but impishly pestered you to continue. With a sigh, you shifted awkwardly under her gaze.
"Alright, alright. Yes, I got him a present. It's nothing special, really - "
"Oh, stop. He'll love it as long as it's from you!"
Before you could ask her to elaborate, Ikkaku squealed in delight and continued:
"Are you going to tell him? You know, about your feelings?"
"What?! No! Why would I do that?" You were aghast at the mere suggestion of even telling Law that you liked him. You know, like-liked him. Wink wink. 
How on earth could you possibly navigate a conversation like that with him? He was so stoic and reserved, apathetically amused by the world around him despite how fucked up it was. Surely, he wouldn't have any interest in hearing how much you enjoyed his company, or how much you liked how intelligent he was. Or how, despite his great efforts to seem aloof, he really did care about people. Then, of course, there were the more…physical traits that you could appreciate. That went without saying. 
You shook your head. No! No way! You didn't dare admit your feelings. Not today. It was Law's birthday, and you were perfectly content celebrating the absolute treasure that he was - sans confession. 
Ikkaku pouted. "Aw, that's no fun…"
You poked your tongue out at her and scurried up the stairs. "Too bad, so sad!"
—-
The evening was a delight. The crew drank, laughed and devoured your carefully crafted onigiri. You believed Law's birthday to be a success, and you hoped that felt that way as well.
He was off to the side and away from the ruckus of his crew. His gray eyes watched the ocean waves, seemingly lost in thought. The sun had set a while ago, and the moon's glow made everything twinkle like silver. You couldn't take your eyes off of him, and it delighted you to see how handsome he was like this. Your fingers held the box in your hands carefully, and you wondered if you should even bother giving it to him. 
"Don't you dare back out," Ikkaku whispered. 
You jumped out of your skin, placing a hand over your heart. "Oh, my God, Ikkaku! You scared me!"
"Sorry," she giggled. "I could see the look on your face. You were second guessing yourself, weren't you?"
You nodded, bashfully looking at the box in your hands. Ikkaku smiled, and hugged you affectionately. 
"Don't worry," she said. "He'll love it. I promise you that whatever it is, it can't be any worse than the pimp chain Shachi got him a few years ago. Can you imagine the Captain wearing a necklace that said "Love Doctor" on it? Ugh."
You laughed. The imagery of such a thing was pretty ridiculous. 
Ikkaku gave you one last squeeze before she directed her attention to the rest of the crew. In a stern and commanding voice, she announced that the next step for the night was to get the kitchen cleaned. Groans of disapproval filled the air, but she wasn't having any of it.
"The sooner it gets done, the better!" She said, "Let's go, let's go, let's go!"
She winked at you, and herded the men off of the main deck. You could hear Penguin complain about cleaning up your mess, followed by a loud smack and a pitiful cry of pain. 
"[Name] spent all day in that kitchen making dinner for the Captain and for you. Don't you dare complain!" 
You laughed to yourself, a certain warmth filling your chest at how much you truly loved your fellow crewmates. But now, it was just you and Law. 
He seemed to be expecting you, as he turned to face you. He leaned against the deck railing, watching as you fiddled with the box in your hands. You approached him carefully, tentatively. It was cute, in a way. 
"So…" you began, "Happy Birthday, Captain. Here's your present."
You held your breath as he took the box from you. The tips of his fingers brushed against yours, and you could feel your soul just about leave your body at the sensation. 
Law eyed the box curiously, tilting it back and forth in his hands. Maybe he was teasing you by leaving you in suspense, but your heart could hardly take it. 
In a rush of words that almost sounded distinguishable, you babbled on about how you didn't have any idea what to get him. You thought about clothes, another hat, jewelry, something physician related…You rambled about how nothing quite seemed to suite him, so eventually you settled on this because -
"I thought that it would make you smile!" You exclaimed. "But then Ikkaku told me that most of the gifts you've gotten were kind of tacky and like a bad joke…I had already bought it by then, and I couldn't figure out anything else - "
"[Name.]"
You let out a nervous squeak as he stopped you, and for a moment you hated how amused he looked at your expense. He held your gaze as his fingers tore the wrapping paper inch by inch until the top of the box was exposed. You pressed your fingers to your lips, anxiety fraying your nerves terribly. 
Law removed the lid, and lifted out a mug from the crisp and clean tissue paper buried within. It was a simple white mug, but when he turned it over in his hand, Law's eyes widened. 
This is it, you thought. You squeezed your eyes shut, face buried in your palms as you waited for the dreaded moment where Law would scold you for giving him a terrible gift. 
" 'World's Okayest Doctor'," he read aloud. 
You groaned and shook your head. "I'm sorry, it's probably the worst gift ever. I just thought it would make you smile! Of course you're a terrific doctor - "
He said your name again, making you stop short. You peaked at him through your fingers, and were amazed to see the smirk on his lips.
"Nothing could be worse than the "Love Doctor" necklace Shachi gave me," Law said. "Thank you for this."
You nodded slowly, carefully moving your hands away from your blushing face. "Y-You're welcome, Captain."
You were always awake before the others, save for Jean Bart and Law respectively. Or whoever was on night watch. But it was rare that anyone was in the kitchen before you on any given day. So, the fact that the light was on made you curious.
You padded into the galley, rubbing sleep from your eyes. What would you make for breakfast today…? 
With a deep breath, you savored the smell of coffee. Already it perked you up, and you knew that only one person on the Polar Tang would make coffee this early.
"Good morning, Captain," you said. 
Law was leaning against the kitchen island, the morning's paper in his hands. Across from him was a freshly brewed pot of coffee. "Good morning," he replied. He turned the page of his paper, eyes focused on whatever bullshit filled the space. 
You hummed, admiring his bed-head and wrinkled pajamas. He always seemed so put together, so in the rare times you got to see Law in this state, you pressed it upon your conscience as much as you could. You wanted to remember it vividly and fondly. 
Reaching for a clean mug in one of the cupboards, you went about pouring yourself a cup of coffee. "Did you sleep well?" You asked.
"No better than usual," he said. Perhaps one night he would be blessed with a full, restful sleep. But he wasn't holding his breath on that.
"I see. Well - "
You stopped short as you turned to face him. Maybe it was silly to be rendered speechless over something so simple as Law drinking coffee, but it was a bit more than just that.
His gray eyes were on you, watching you carefully over the rim of his mug. But not just any mug. It was the mug. The mug that you gave him. 
You couldn't stop the grin that lit up your face. Your cheeks felt warm, and your heart was giddy. 
"Is that a new mug?" You asked, pretending as if you hadn't given it to him the night before.
Law nodded slowly, appreciatively. "It is," he concurred. "I got it as a birthday present, actually."
You giggled, holding your own mug close to your chest. "Oh, really? That's awesome! Are you really the "world's okayest doctor"?"
Law smirked at you. "I like to think so."
"Then I guess I'm in good hands, then. I-I mean, we are in good hands! As in the crew. All of us. Are in good hands - your hands. Yeah."
You stumbled over your words, blush deepening. You sipped at your coffee, wincing at how hot it was. That's fine - let it burn away your embarrassment.
"I think it's my new favorite mug, actually," Law mused casually. The mischievous spark in his eyes was not lost on you, and you swore that his teasing would be the death of you.
—-
Off in the doorway, unbeknownst to either of you, a bet was being made amongst certain members of the crew.
"I bet a hundred berry that [Name] confesses their feelings by his next birthday," Shachi whispered. 
Ikkaku shook her head. "No way! I bet two hundred berry that they confess before Christmas!"
Penguin scoffed. "You're both going to lose. Clearly, it will be the captain that makes them confess, and I bet three hundred berry that he'll get them to do it by the time we stop on the next island."
Shachi and Ikkaku gasped at his audacity. "Bet!"
A sleepy Bepo was left out, confused and hungry. "What do you think [Name] will make for breakfast today?" he asked. "I hope it's more onigiri."
Happy Birthday, Law! 💕
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