#deep sea creatures need love too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thegnomelord · 4 months

Note

I love your monster au so much. It makes the monsterlover/fucker in me real happy. Sorry just wanted to share my appreciation.

I've been thinking too, how would you feel about writing a underwater sea creature reader? (No pressure but I hope this idea tickles your fancy so I'll infodump my ideas on you) They can live on land and stuff but drag their prospective mate into a deep underwater ravine when they want to mate. Idk how to describe it, like I have an idea in my head of what the creature's traits would be but I can't find a way to put it into words.

I'm going to give it a try though, (excuse the fact it won't make much sense, my thoughts jump around a lot. But I'll try and make it coherent.) Basically, my mind went to underwater dragons. So with most of the traits that you wrote for dragons, like the purring and the tails intertwining (and the sharing of scales). But I was thinking without wings, because you don't need them underwater. But we glow in the dark, because we are deepsea creatures we have adapted to become bioluminescent. Oh and also we have gills and stuff still when we are on land.

Idk if this is confusing or just something you don't want to write but I was hoping for you to include a more sfw part with the mating dance maybe and then then an actual nsfw part (dom top male reader??)

But at the end of the day this is just a suggestion and it's up to you if you want to write it or not. (If you do write it can it be with ghost or gaz?? gaz giving us shiny things but sea related, like shells? and/or ghost struggling through knowing how to court us. Both of them being confused of what to do because we are a new type of dragon that not many people knew existed and our courting traditions are mostly unknown??

Okay this is cool and it tickles my brain of having just this big fucking monster that's gigantic due to deep sea gigantism :D, I also picked Gaz cause I like the sea/sky duality.

CW:NSFW, subbot gaz, domtop Mreader, quick and rough

When you first joined the taskforce, Gaz didn't know what to expect. Your species had been newly discovered, barely any information about you, but something about you put some ancient part of his mind on edge, ants nipping on the sinew of his wings until his body begged to return to the safety of the sky.

First time he met you, you reminded him less of a dragon and more of a Leviathan — something that dwelled where the light didn't reach, far too big than anything should be allowed to be, bright bioluminescent markings shimmering against dark scales to lure prey into crushing jaws filled with sharp crooked teeth, horns like spears to pin down what couldn't fit in your maw, powerful legs built to swim and breach the surface of the water to catch unaware flyers like Gaz just to pull them down into the abyss to be devoured.

He would have been more. . . unsettled by you had you not been so nice.

You towered over him even in your mostly human form, but you were a gentle giant, happy to let him use you as a perch and humming along as he talks, joining in on his and Johnny's pranks and hiding them when Price eventually catches them.

And Gaz doesn't even notice when your presence no longer makes his feathers puff up, the shadow you cast over him now warm and welcoming after all the times you'd been a meat shield for him. He tils his head back to catch sight of your eyes as he leans back, soft feathers rubbing against your clothes, "Hey there big man." Gaz smiled.

You hum, your hand coming to loosely hold his hip, holding the pretty thing close to you. "Hi." You purr, the small biolights along your body flickering in seemingly random patterns, but nothing about them was random to you or your kin, your interest in him painfully obvious.

But to your dismay Gaz doesn't understand, just snorts at your colorful display. "What's got you in a good mood today?" He asks, eyes tracing the dancing lights, that instinctual bird part of his mind liking the sight, and the low rumble of your voice, and just. . . being near you.

You blink, "You," You say simply, your people aren't ones to mince words.

Gaz can feel his body heat up at your declaration, feathers puffing up, but strikes down any thoughts about you before they turn inappropriate and cause him to coo at you. "Fine, keep yer secrets." He huffs and gets out of your hold, wings stretching out to purposely show off his feathers as he walks away, tail feathers flickering.

He can feel your eyes follow after him, hummingbirds pecking at his spine and he doesn't know if he should feel that way. And all you can think of is how you could drag your pretty bird down into the abyss without clipping his wings.

. . .

Gaz watches you lazily swim around the lake near their current base in your real form, "Havin' a nice soak in there Nessie?" He asks as he walks the short pier and sits down, dipping his feet in the water as his wings spread out lazily behind him.

A low rumble leaves you like a distorted whale song, your large form pushing through the water like a submarine cutting through the ice. "Nessie?" You ask as swim over to him, "Who's that?"

"Never mind about that," Kyle grins, his eyes roaming along your large form as the biolights flicker once again in that specific pattern that means nothing to him but everything to you. "You look happy."

You shrug, "It's nice to be back in the water." Without a word you heave yourself out of the water and onto the pier, large hands clutching the wood on either side of him, a deep purr rumbling in your chest at how close he is to you now. "Did you need something?" You ask, biolights flickering seductively.

Kyle swallows drily, eyes going wide as he registers you loom over him, can smell the sea and salt still clinging to your scales, something other than fear buzzing down his spine from how close your dangerous teeth are to him. "Oh, right, uh," He clears his throat to clear the molasses clinging to it, wings spreading out in a way that got his feathers shining in the setting sun as he reached into his pocket.

"I, um. . . I got you this." He said, holding out the seashell he'd found for you. His breath caught in his throat as you looked at it, hoping you liked it; he'd spent hours polishing it until it was shining, the colors vibrant and every single scratch buffed out.

"Thank you," You rumbled and took the seashell into your hand. Your pupils dilated, a very pleased purr rumbling in your chest — oh, he was so thoughtful, such a good mate to bring a rare treat for you.

Kyle felt like a bloody peacock at the way his wings spread out, but he couldn't care less about his posturing when you accepted his gift, his heart fluttering like butterflies in a jar.

Then you ate it.

You ate his gift.

His heart shatters like the seashell between your fangs, wings dropping like a rock, never having expected to be rejected like that. "I- what- why did- if you-" He couldn't even form words to say what he wanted, pressing a hand to his face in an attempt to hide the way his eyes prickled with vestiges of tears.

Unfortunately for him, you notice. "Oh, little bird, what's wrong?" Your voice is soothing, biolights pulsing in a slow and calming way as you gently pry his hand from his face, looking into his eyes. "Did I do something wrong?"

Kyle doesn't look you in the eyes, doesn't know what the hell to feel right now, the words spewing out of his mouth before he could control them. "Why would you do that!" He hisses.

You tilt your head. "You gifted it to me." You say like it's supposed to explain everything, reaching up to cup his cheek, your clawed hand cold and wet against his skin. "It was very good." You lean in closer, a deep purr rumbling in your throat, your long tail moving to curl around his leg.

Kyle sucks in a sharp breath as you push you loom over him your hands on either sides of him keeping him in place, feeling himself slowly lay back as you creep over him onto the pier, heart drumming in his chest. "Wh-what?"

You snort, eyes glowing like anglerfish lures, lowering your head down to lick a stripe up his neck, claws raking down his front. "Let me show you my appreciation, yes?"

Kyle shivers at the sensation of your teeth against his throat, body heating up, your scent — of sea and salt and something very very old — invading his nose, an involuntary chirp escaping his chest. "Ah, yeah, sure just-" Kyle yelps as your claws cut through his clothes, wings quivering as they're pressed against the wooden pier behind him.

"Relax little bird," You coo softly, licking around his lips in what counts as a kiss for you when your maw is filled with vicious teeth, tongue trailing down to lick up the drops of his salty sweat. "I'll be gentle."

And gentle you are; softly licking up the blood after your fangs had left marks on his skin, sharp claws holding his trembling hips tenderly as your rough tongue worms inside him, soft purrs and deep rumbles vibrating your tongue against his prostate until he's sobbing, his hands clutching your horns to hold your head closer as his cock leaks a puddle of pre onto his abdomen.

He whines when you continue stretching him with your tongue, "Please, mate, just-" Kyle sucks in a sharp breath as your tongue once again grazes his prostate, thighs clenching around your head. "-just please fuck me already! I can't- I'm not going to-"

Kyle sobs with joy and anguish when you pull your tongue out, the slimy appendage slithering back into your maw and leaving him painfully empty. "Alright, alright," You coo, moving up to drape your body over his, nuzzling your cheek against his as you line your hard cock with his stretched hole. "Relax,"

The tip of your cock breaching his puckered hole has Kyle sucking in a sharp breath, "Easier said than done mate," He chuckles, closing his eyes and just trying to focus on your scent and just you, groaning. Fuck, you're big in all aspects, his body clenching down like a vice before relaxing enough for you to slowly push further, spreading his walls wide until you're fully inside him, your hips resting against his.

"There you go," You purr, letting Kyle adjust as you nibble on his neck, biolights flickering happily when he rocks his hips into yours. "Taking me so well,"

Gaz can feel his body heat up at your words, throwing his head back when you rock your hips, cock hard and heavy inside him, dragging against his walls with every minute movement that has him panting and whining, his legs crossing behind your back to pull your hips closer every time you pull out.

The world escapes your notice, all your attention fully on him as you focus on mating him, pulling needy desperate sounds from Kyle's lips, your large hand gently stroking his leaking dick as your cock rubs against his prostate, your unhurried pace making him cum again and again and again until he's a moaning boneless mess by the time you cum inside him.

#gnome correspondence #trinkets from the hoard #cod mw2 #x reader #male reader #top male reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x male reader #kyle garrick x male reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #cod smut #cod monster au #cod modern warfare #monster 141 au #monster cod au #cod mwii #cod x male reader

802 notes · View notes

frogchiro · 10 months

Note

OKAY BUT WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT POSSESSIVE MERMAN GHOST JUST THINK OF IT GUYS

Possessive merman Ghost is the worst :(( I'm gonna go with the idea that reader is a mermaid too

If you thought human Ghost was possessive then you should see him as a mer! I finally decided what I want him to look like and I settled on a frilled shark! They are deep see creatures and I freaking loved them ever since I was a kid obsessed with sea life😭

He's driven mostly by instinct to protect and provide for his mate and he will be violent if he needs to; his sharp talons, fangs, powerful tail and his natural prowess in hunting comes in handy in repelling every possible threat to you be it a literal danger or a threat to take you away from him.

He loves to watch you swim :(( Watching you swim in the depths of the ocean, your long beautiful tail swishing behind you like a sea angel as you perform various acrobatics, your giggles like the finest siren song to him, beconing him to join you but he usually declines, content with just watching and admiring you.

Simon likes to swim up to you and wrap his long, strong, thick tail around yours and press you close to his strong torso and he'll click and vocalise his adoration to you with growls, rumbles and bellows while nuzzling you possessively, licking your cheek and biting your sensitive neck-a very intimate and vulnerable gesture only reserved for close mates because that's where your gills are.

He'd tighted his hold on you with his tail, growling lowly in his throat as he feels his cock start to harden and breach the slit as he starts to get aroused by your own trills of happiness and pleasure :((

Ghost can't wait until the next breeding season because he's determind to breed you with his offspring and have you preggo with his eggs :((

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley

879 notes · View notes

dancingtotuyo · 12 days

Text

Part III

High Infidelity | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Summary: You and Joel hull the kids to the beach for a much needed vacation. Things begin to change.

Tags: Tommy x Reader, Joel x Reader, Tommy's Wife Reader, infidelity, emotional affair, slow burn (as much as you can get for 5 chapters), Tommy goes to jail, Reader has had a child

Warnings: Tommy being a shitty husband & father, Father's day celebration, cursing, consumption of alcohol, emotional affair/cheating, some physical boundaries crossed. Pining

Notes: Y'all know the drill by now, thanks to my loves @janaispunk for beta reading and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for beta reading and providing me with some authentic prison information and inspiration, and @saradika-graphics for the dividers!

Words: 5273

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Daily Clicks for Palestine & Other resources

It’s June before you’re able to escape to the shore. You make it in just over 4 hours. It’s good timing considering the multiple bathroom stops you had to make. It’s a small house that probably hasn’t been renovated since Joel was there as a kid. It sits two blocks off the shore on stilts that make you feel secluded from the people that pass on the quiet street below, and when you stand on the porch, the salty sea breeze caresses your body as you let your eyes close. You can just make out the crash of ocean waves. You can feel the breeze carrying all your cares away.

Nate and Sarah excitedly explore the inside of the house. Their muted enthusiasm floating through the walls makes you smile. You’re thankful for this, thankful for Joel.

The sliding door opens and then shuts. You don’t move. It’s Joel. You know the sound of his footsteps, the way he moves through the world by heart. He settles against the railing, arm pressed against yours.

A smile spreads across your lips as your eyes open, landing on his. He smiles back. “Hard to enjoy the view with your eyes closed, Darlin.” His deep baritone rumbles smoothly. You see it in him too, the way the breeze carries away the wear and worry of the world.

“It’s peaceful out here.”

He nods. “Yeah, it is.”

“We should probably get back in there before the kids break something.”

Joel nudges you with his shoulder. “Don’t jinx us like that.”

“Our two? Unsupervised? That’s asking for it.”

“Our two?” A playful glint glimmers in Joel’s deep brown eyes. “My daughter is perfectly well behaved. It’s your little menace that’s the bad influence.”

“Oh my four year old is the bad influence?” You cross your arms, doing your best to keep the smile at bay.

“For sure- got his dad’s streak for mischief. My Sarah is a perfect angel.” He sticks his tongue out at you.

You roll your eyes, slapping his shoulder, but you don’t have a good response. He’s not wrong. Nathaniel knows how to get into places he shouldn’t. “I seem to recall an incident involving a ten pound bag of flour that says differently.”

Joel chuckles at the memory. Nathaniel was barely a week old when Sarah shrieked in the kitchen only for you to find her and the kitchen dusted in white powder. You had cried upon seeing it, postpartum hormones raging. Joel had cleaned your entire kitchen top to bottom.

“She felt so bad for making you cry,” Joel laughs.

“I think I scared her.”

The door opens again. Sarah and Nathaniel break out, rushing for your legs and begging to go to the beach.

You spend the next several days lazing on the sand, reading more than you have in years as you soak in the sun. The kids run around chasing seagulls and other creatures. Joel helps them catch waves on boogie boards. You both take them further out to ride the waves. Sarah’s arms clutch around Joel’s neck, and Nathaniel does the same to you. They build sandcastles and Joel digs holes big enough to bury them both.

At night, the kids are out by 8 o’clock if not earlier allowing you and Joel to sit out on the deck and drink. Your skin is warm from the constant sun. Joel’s cheeks are tinged pink on your third evening, his chest rosier. The salty air works at his hair, bringing out curls. You like this version of him a lot. You like this version of yourself too.

Your feet sit in his lap as he massages your legs and feet, calves worn out from lugging your belongings across the sand and back. He stares up at the sky, twilight bringing the first few stars with it. You sip your homemade margarita, Joel’s specialty, from a red solo cup.

“I shoulda brought my guitar. Only thing that could make this moment better,” he says.

You hum softly, shifting in your chair. “Wouldn’t be able to massage my feet if you had your guitar.”

He laughs, so easy, so relaxed. You can’t remember the last time things felt this good. “Don’t worry, you’d still get your massage.”

“Why didn’t you bring it?” You cock your head to the side.

“Wouldn’t fit in the car, miss over packer.”

You roll your eyes softly kicking at him. “We’ve used everything I packed. Speaking of which, what do you want for breakfast tomorrow?” You take another sip of your drink. Joel finds a knot in your calf, working it out as you let out a slight hiss.

Joel shrugs, carefully watching your reactions careful to inflict as little pain as possible. “Ask the kids.”

“It’s Father’s Day.”

“Kids like pancakes.” Joel sips from his own drink before returning to the knot.

“But you don’t.”

“Doesn’t matter what I like, Darlin.”

“Well, it does tomorrow.” You cross your arms.

Joel sighs rolling his eyes.

You narrow yours. “Don’t make me force it out of you. You know I will.”

He considers it a minute before deciding it’s a losing battle. “Those omelets you made for my birthday. I really liked those.”

You smile. “I can manage that.”

You sit in bed with Nathaniel the next morning to call Tommy. As early as possible is preferred, not that Tommy will care. He’s been blowing you off more, hardly talking when you call or visit, seemingly uninterested when you talk about Nate. It’s exhausting. You dread it, but you continue anyway.

It takes a while before Tommy’s voice comes through the speaker. You force an exaggerated smile to your face for Nathaniel’s sake. Daddy is an abstract being to him. “Hey babe. Happy Father’s Day!”

“Oh… that’s today?”

You push back the annoyance rising inside you. “Nate wants to say hello.” You hold the phone up to your four-year-old’s ear.

“Hello?” he says.

You can barely make Tommy’s pathetic response. He won’t even pretend for Nathaniel and that’s the unbearable part of all this.

“Happy Day!” Nathaniel says, taking hold of the receiver before he dives into updating his stranger of a father all about their beach vacation. Tommy stays quiet the whole time.

Rage begins to boil just under the surface. Before it can bubble over, Nathaniel says goodbye, shoving the phone into your chest and dashing out of the room the moment he hears Sarah moving around in the living room.

“Tommy?”

“Look, I need to go.”

You're not sure what’s worse. The hurt or the anger inside you. “I love you.”

“Yeah. I’ll talk to you on Friday.”

“Tommy.” It sounds like a scold. That’s exactly what it is.

“I don’t have time for this.”

“Time for your wife and son?”

“You’re the one who called me.”

“Are you actually going to call on Friday? Or am I gonna end up sitting next to the phone all evening?”

You get silence.

“Tommy?”

“I’ll call.” And then the line goes dead.

You want to scream or yell or cry or all three. You settle for throwing a pillow across the room and giving yourself 5 minutes to cry. There may only be three months of this left, but you’re not sure you’ll actually be talking to your husband at the end of it, not that the two of you do any talking now.

Wiping your eyes, you make your way to the kitchen to start on Joel’s promised breakfast. Nathaniel and Sarah sit at the table comparing sea shells. “Aunt Bonnie?”

“Yes baby doll?” You smile, kissing her head.

“Which one would Daddy like on his card?” She points to a collection of about 5 shells.

“Hmmm,” you crouch down to her level, looking them over. “I think he would like any of them, but this one looks like him.” You point to a blue-grey shell.

She picks it up, inspecting it carefully. “It does look kinda grumpy like him.”

You laugh. That isn’t what you meant, but she wasn’t wrong. “I’m making omelets. What do y’all want in yours?”

The kids are digging into their breakfast when Joel walks out of his room, arms stretching above his head to reveal a little sliver of his tummy. Sarah quickly shoves her Father’s Day project under some magazines.

“Look who decided to wake up.” You smile over your shoulder. “Morning sleepy head.”

“One day of the year I get to sleep in.” He mumbles, shooting a teasing glare your way. He clocks your red eyes before you can turn away.

“Happy Father’s Day, Daddy!” Sarah yells, standing on her chair to give Joel a hug. He chuckles, pulling her into his arms, spinning around, and setting her back on the chair with ease. She laughs.

“Thank you, baby girl.”

“Happy Day!” Nathaniel grins at his uncle.

“Father’s Day.” Sarah corrects. Nathaniel simply shrugs like he’d said the correct thing to begin with.

Joel chuckles, kissing his nephew’s cheek. “Thanks, Bud.”

You track his footsteps over to your side of the kitchen as you invest your full attention on the omelet in front of you. You know he caught your tear-stained eyes. “Fresh coffee in the pot,” You say, keeping your voice even.

You feel his full body heat behind you, a hand falls to your waist as he reaches into the cabinet next to the stove for a coffee mug. Something settles in your stomach.

“What did my idiot brother do now?” He keeps his voice low so the kids don’t overhear.

You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Darlin.”

“I don't want to talk about it.” Your head snaps toward him. He’s right there, face so close to yours. Always nearby.

“You sure?”

You bristle a little bit. He drops his hand but stays in your space. “Not right now. We’re celebrating you this morning.” He smiles softly at you. “And I don’t want to burn your omelet, so scram.” You cock your head to the side.

He waits a second, searching for any signs he’s missing something. When he’s sure he isn’t, he gives you a soft smile and a tender kiss on the forehead, and steps over to the coffee pot, leaving you feeling warm and hazy.

The kids help clean up after breakfast. Sarah stands on a bench at the sink to wash dishes and Nathaniel waits patiently with a dish towel to dry the lighter dishes. You and Joel sit at the table, second and third cups of coffee in hand as you oversee their efforts.

“I think I’m going to enjoy this next phase of parenting,” Joel says with a long, content sigh.

You feel the easiness thrumming in your veins. Why couldn’t life always be this way? “Yeah if my anxiety about broken dishes or wet feet doesn’t get the better of me first.”

He chuckles softly, sipping from his mug as an easy silence falls between you. You watch the kids and Joel watches you. Sun pours through the many windows of the beach house. You’re not ready to leave tomorrow.

“You wanna talk about it now?”

You sigh. “Not really. We’re supposed to be celebrating you today.”

“I’ll be able to enjoy myself more if I know what’s going on in your head.”

You keep your gaze focused on the kids, rolling the words around in your head. You feel emotionally exhausted by it all and you’re not even through the morning hours yet.

“Darlin,” Joel kicks at your foot, smile on his face. “C’mon. We can talk about it.”

You set your mug down, turning toward him. “He’s just blowing us off again. I spent more time waiting for him to come to the phone than I did talking to him. He hardly interacted with Nate this morning.” You roll your eyes in an attempt to push away the tears pressing to escape.

Joel reaches across the table, taking your hand. He runs his thumb over your knuckles. It grazes past your wedding band, almost taunting you now.

“I’m sorry. This isn’t fair to either of you,” Joel says.

“You’d think I’d stop letting it affect me at some point.”

Joel bites his lip, eyes pinned to your ring finger. “He’s your husband. Needs to start acting like it,” Joel says gruffly. You catch the spark of something in his deep brown eyes, but you don’t have time to place it.

“We’re done!” Sarah exclaims with a proud smile, her shirt soaked through.

You pull your hand from Joel’s, wrapping it around your warm mug as you laugh. “Thank you for your help. Both of you.” Nathaniel puts the dish towel carefully over the oven handle, shooting you the biggest grin.

“Can we do presents now?” Sarah asks, curls bouncing with her.

“Presents?” Joel says. “Y’all didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Don’t be silly, Daddy.” Sarah says, looking to you for permission.

“I think now is a great time for gifts.”

Both kids run toward their shared room. They had been very excited at the promise of bunk beds. You ease out of your chair. “Not you too.” Joel shakes his head.

You shoot him a wink. “Suck it, Miller.”

Flashes of your delayed Mother’s Day celebration jump between you. Joel had switched up the weekends and hadn’t been prepared, but had made up for it the following weekend. You hadn’t heard from Tommy. He never even mentioned it.

You grab the small box from your suitcase, a small white bow tied around it. The four of you settle in the living room. You sit tucked into one end of the sofa while Joel sits at the other end, a bouncing kid on either side of him.

“Me first!” Sarah says, handing her card and hand-wrapped gift to her father.

Joel takes care, slowly reading the card out loud. His gift consists of a souvenir snow globe and a puca shell necklace. She picked them out with great care at the beach shop the two of you stopped in yesterday. He oos and awes over both.

“You should put on the necklace!” Sarah says, standing up on the cushions of the couch.

“Maybe I want to admire it more,” Joel says.

You bite back a smile. He’s already lost this battle and you both know it.

“Don’t be silly, Daddy.” She grabs it from his hand, determination, and concentration painted on her face as she wraps it around his neck.

“Yeah, don’t be silly, Daddy.” You tease, shooting him a wink. He pokes his tongue out at you as Sarah almost chokes him in the process of securing the necklace.

“Not so tight, baby girl.”

“Oops,” she giggles. “All done.”

She steps back to admire her handiwork, looking quite pleased. “What do you think, Aunt Bonnie?”

“Beautiful,” You smile, laughter evident in your tone of voice. “You look ready to hit the beach.”

“My turn!” Nathaniel announces, handing Joel a hand-drawn picture depicting their day at the beach yesterday. He goes into great detail describing everything he drew. Joel’s hand rests on Nate’s shoulder blades, head tucked toward him as he takes in everything the boy says with practiced patience and intentionality.

It strikes something in your heart, a deep longing. That should be Tommy. But it also sends a deep sense of gratitude toward your brother-in-law for picking up where his brother has failed. You swallow back the tears, losing track of how much you’ve had to do that today.

“Thank you, Bud. I love it.” Joel kisses Nathaniel's head.

“You’re welcome, Daddy.”

Joel freezes. Ice rushes through your bloodstream. Your eyes meet Joel’s. What do you say to that? Neither of you knows the answer.

“He’s not your daddy, Nate,” Sarah says, pulling out her older sister voice. “He’s your uncle.”

“Oh yeah,” Nathaniel shrugs, unbothered by his mishap as he swings his legs back and forth, hitting the couch with his heels as he does.

“Aunt Bonnie, do you have the other gift?” Sarah asks, determined to keep the morning on schedule.

“Yeah, right here.” You fumble around, finding the box tucked between yourself and the couch. Joel keeps his eyes on you trying to figure out what’s running through your mind, but he can’t.

Sarah plucks the box from your hands before presenting it to her father. “This is from all three of us.”

She looks very proud of herself. Joel takes it with a smile, eyes flickering back to you briefly. You give him an encouraging nod.

He loosens the bow, pulling off the top. The kids lean over either side of his body, excited for the reveal even though they’ve both seen it. He pulls it out, inspecting it carefully. A black watch face with silver accents and an olive green watch band. His eyes dart to yours. You smile at him.

“You’ve been talking about it for years.” You smirk, sipping your coffee. “You were never gonna do it yourself.”

“It’s exactly what I wanted.” He shakes his head, a stunned chuckle shaking his chest. “How’d you know?”

“Found an old picture Tommy had stored away last fall.”

“Look at the back.” Sarah bounces with excitement.

Joel flips it over. His brows knit together as he catches the inscription. Happy Father’s Day. We love you. Sarah and Nathaniel. 1997.

“Do you like it?” Sarah looks up at him with sparkling excitement.

“I love it.” He kisses her cheek, thanking both the children. He wraps it around his wrist, buckling it into place.

“Now you won’t be late anymore,” Sarah says, making you and Joel laugh.

“We can only hope,” you say.

Joel looks up at you with one of the most heartfelt smiles you’ve ever seen. His lips move silently. Thank you.

You nod in response.

You spend the final day of your vacation on the beach until the sun has disappeared. Joel ends up running back to the house to grab the car so your two very tired children don’t melt down. You hurry through bath time, trying to get all the sand from hair and bodies. You’re sure you’ll be finding sand all over your and Joel’s homes for months.

You provide goodnight hugs and kisses, but Joel takes bedtime duties. You’re cleaning up the kitchen, and packing up pantry items when the first lines of You Are My Sunshine drift out of the kid’s bedroom in Joel’s soft melodies. The kids' sleepy voices talk him into another lullaby and then another before their eyelids slip closed and their breathing evens out.

The door clicks softly and you’ve already pulled the margarita pitcher and new solo cups. “See they talked you into the whole set list tonight.” You smile, filling the cups with the last of the margaritas.

“It’s the last night of vacation.” Joel chuckles. He grabs the blanket off the back of the couch and the half-eaten bag of pretzels. “They asked so nicely.”

“And you’re a big softy.”

You grab both cups, following Joel out to your spot on the deck. It’s cooler tonight, the breeze a bit stronger. You sit across from each other, feet propped in the seat of the other’s chair with the blanket spread across your legs. Joel sets the pretzels right at your knees.

“Did you enjoy your day?” You ask, sipping on the day-old margarita. It goes down easier tonight, and your cup is filled to the brim.

“It was a good day.” Joel smiles at you, easy and relaxed. The world and your issues feel so far away here despite the day’s earlier events. “Probably the best Father’s Day yet.”

“Oh you mean it beats the raw banana bread from last year?” You’re laughing before the sentence fully leaves your mouth. Joel’s head falls back, chest vibrating with laughter.

His hair curls more from the salty air and fits him, tanned skin, curly hair, Puca shell necklace and all. You wonder if you look like a similar version of yourself, the relaxed beach version.

“Sarah trying to choke me with the necklace beats whatever it was you tried to bake last year.”

You stick out your tongue. The pretzel bag rustles as he grabs a handful. You take another drink from your cup. Joel Miller makes a mean margarita.

“What about you? Did you have a good day then?”

You take an extra second to think about it before nodding. “Yeah. I can’t complain when it comes to well-behaved kids and the beach.”

“Nathaniel calling me dad didn’t throw you off, I hope.”

Your shoulders tense a little bit. “I think I’m the one who should be asking that.”

“Kinda surprised it hasn’t happened sooner if I’m being honest.” Joel’s pointer finger slides along the lip of his cup before he brings it to his lips.

You bite your lips, staring at the house across the street. “Same.”

“Sorry, that was kinda a mood killer.” Joel’s hand rests on your calf.

“It’s fine. You’re more of a father to him than his real dad.” You try to wave it off, but the facts are reeling in your mind like a movie. “Fuck, you were in the delivery room, and coached his T-ball team, and you’ve tucked him into bed more times than Tommy ever has.” You swipe away the moisture that’s gathered in your eyes, chasing them with another gulp of your drink.

“Hey… maybe you should slow down there.” Joel leans forward, his feet dropping from your chair as he grabs the solo cup from you and the pretzels tumble to the deck.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” You reach for the cup, but Joel keeps it out of reach, setting it on the ground next to his.

“I do.” He’s firm with you, grabbing your hands and tucking them between his. You can’t meet his eyes, embarrassment flooding your body. “What's going on in your mind right now?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Darlin,” He tugs gently on your arms. Your feet greet the warm deck as you're forced to sit up straighter. The side of your knee bumps against his. “You can talk to me.”

“I just want to enjoy our last night, Joel.”

“Can’t do that if I’m worried about you.” He tips your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes.

The street lights flicker off his warm eyes. You feel his touch linger under your chin. Extra warmth gathers in each place he touches. The words bubbling up in you, helpless to stop the thoughts circling in your head for months.

“I’m not sure my marriage is salvageable. I don’t know if I’ll recognize my husband when he gets out. I don’t think he’s the same person-“ You can’t finish through the choked-out sobs.

Joel lets out a soft sigh and before you know it, he’s tugging your pliant body into his lap, rubbing your back. He kisses your head. Your head finds the crook of his neck, fingers digging into the back of it. He’s the steady rock he’s always been. It does little to soothe your racing mind.

You have so many questions and no answers. Tommy’s release from prison always felt like a distant finish line. Now, three months away, it feels like just the start.

“No matter what, I’ve got you,” Joel says, hand cupping your cheek. “I’m here for you.”

How much longer can you continue to find solace in your brother-in-law's arms? How much longer will Joel play the part Tommy is supposed to? Supporter, parent, partner…

You pull back, fingers still wrapped around his neck. The metal of your wedding ring presses against his skin, but he’s used to feeling it. He doesn’t even think about it anymore. Your forehead nearly touches his. The pools of his deep eyes are endless. They’re different than Tommy’s. You don’t mean to compare, but you like it, soft and inviting after sleeping on rocks for years. You think you catch the hints of desire in them. You’ve forgotten what it feels like to be desired.

There’s a fight, a push and pull between you. Who’s going to do it. His hot breath fans across your lips. Who’s going to be the one to finally cross the line you’ve been toeing for so long and drag the other one into exile with them? It’s a lush oasis in the middle of the desert you’ve been traveling. One move and you can dip your toe in.

Joel gives in first, leaning in. Your eyes flutter shut with anticipation, another touch of his breath. His nose nudges against yours. You catch a whiff of the salt on his skin, and then, nothing, a mirage all in your head leaving you stranded in the desert.

Confusion knits your brow before your eyes are open. Joel is still close, closer than a man that’s not your husband should be, but he feels further away than ever.

His thumb nudges your bottom lip. He gives a weak smile in an attempt to cover his true emotions. “We can’t…”

He’s right. You hate yourself for getting so carried away. “I know.”

Your hand drops from his neck. You might be sitting on his lap but he’s never felt farther from you.

“You should go to bed.”

You think to fight him on it, but you decide not to. You stand up. Joel doesn’t move, thumb playing with the lip of his solo cup. He can’t meet your eyes and it feels like you might be losing him too.

Before you can think better of it, you lean down, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. Your fingers rake through his hair twice over. His eyes close and he lilts into you just the slightest.

“Thank you, Joel. For everything.”

His Adam’s Apple bobs as you pull away. He keeps his eyes pinned ahead, fingers curling around the red plastic. He’s barely holding on to control.

“Good night,” he says, voice gruff, never looking away from his fixed point.

“Goodnight.”

Joel finishes off yours and his margarita before he falls into bed. It’s just enough to keep him buzzed as he runs toward rest. He can’t get the feel of you out of his mind, how close he was to ripping apart his whole family.

He’s in and out of sleep when the door pops open. He assumes it’s Sarah. She probably had a bad dream, and tosses the corner of the comforter back. Except, the full size mattress dips lower than it should. He reaches out but instead of Sarah’s small frame, he gets a handful of your waist as the smell of you fills his nostrils. In the haze of sleep, Joel opens his eyes just enough to find you facing away from him.

The bed isn’t big enough for his legs not to tangle with yours, not if he wants restful sleep. Your body doesn’t tense under his touch. You don’t say anything. Neither does he, but your body melts into him until he finds his arm fully around your middle, back flush against his front.

Joel Miller considers himself a good man, but a good man doesn’t yearn for his brother’s wife. A good man doesn’t give into the temptation to have her so close, to be with her so intimately. Tonight, Joel Miller doesn’t worry about being a good man. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but tonight, Joel Miller falls asleep with you in his arms and bed. Tonight, Joel Miller’s deepest desires come true. Just for tonight, he gets to pretend you’re his.

You wake up to an empty bed like you have since Tommy went to prison, but something feels off about it. A familiar smell lingers under your nose, and unfamiliar warmth fills you even though the sheets are cold.

You let out a soft groan, eyes fluttering open. You stare up at the ceiling, convinced once again that something feels off. You turn to look at the clock on the bed stand but there’s not one there. The walls are a different color and you shoot up as it all comes flooding back.

You almost kissed Joel last night. The way you tossed and turned before giving into temptation and crawling in beside him. He hadn’t fought you, hadn’t said a word but pulled you flush against him in the bed that was just a bit too small. You’d slept like a baby for the first time in years.

Joel sits at the table with the kids as they shovel the last of the extra sugary cereal into their mouths. A special vacation treat. You expect Joel to ignore you or at least be standoffish, but he hands you a cup of steaming coffee with the same smile he always does, crow’s feet crinkling at the corners of his eyes as if nothing happened.

You offer a smile in response. A silent agreement to never speak on it again.

You’ve been home for a week when it comes, a plain white envelope stuffed with something soft labeled with a return address you’re all too familiar with written in Tommy’s chicken scratch handwriting.

You wait until Nathaniel is down for the night, but it throws you the whole evening. Letters from Tommy are more rare than phone calls. You’ve received one, maybe two since he was incarcerated. Considering he’d promised to call on after Father’s day and hadn’t, the mysterious letter makes you feel unsettled. What shoes are left to drop?

You run the envelope through your hands, thumb picking at the corner of the seal, uncommitted to actually tearing it open. You’re worried whatever lies within will only hurt you more. You can’t sustain more hurt.

Finally, you dig into the corner, tearing it open. Your eyebrows knit together. White fabric is neatly folded and tucked within. You pull it out, revealing a square of white fabric, like a bandana unfurls and a note falls to the floor. As you take in the black and white drawing on the fabric, you gasp. It’s a drawing of the picture you keep on your nightstand. The moment Tommy met Nathaniel for the first time. Tommy’s arm is wrapped around you, Nathaniel in his arms with the biggest grin on his face. It’s a moment that’s seared into your memory. Seeing it portrayed like this brings tears to your eyes, the emotions from that day and the last 696 flooding your body.

Before the tear completely blur your vision, you pick up the note. You can barely make out Tommy’s handwriting when your eyes are clear, but you manage.

Baby,

You and I both know I didn’t draw this. My cellmate did based on the photo. You probably know that. They call them paños. I’ve seen a lot of the ones guys in here have sent to their girls. They’re pretty cool.

I’m sorry. I wish I could be better for you and Nathaniel. I love you, Bonnie.

Tommy.

Tears stream down your face. Just like that your heart seems to forget the heartache of the last couple years. This proves that your Tommy is still inside him somewhere, fighting to come back to you. You’ll do anything to have your Tommy back.

It doesn’t matter if you're grasping at threads. Your heart overpowers your mind. You’re determined that you can pull him back by those threads, maybe not now, but once he’s out. Once he’s out, you can bring him back. You’re his Bonnie. He’s your Clyde. You’re tied together. Your heart beats for him, but you don’t catch a piece of your heart breaking off from the rest. That part can't beat for Tommy. It’s attached to someone else.

Taglist: @pamasaur @alltheotps @rizzraa @moel-jiller @misstokyo7love @justagalwhowrites @pedritosgfreal @mellymbee @sarahhxx03 @lizzie-cakes @sixhours @duckybird101 @anoverwhelmingdin @nervoushottee @caitlynsixxx @kaykay0315 @stevie75 @millercontracting @cals-laundry @jessthebaker @noisynightmarepoetry @vickie5446 @mewantpeepaw

#joel miller #the last of us #tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #tommy miller x reader #pedro pascal #tlou fanfiction #high infidelity (joel miller)#ppcu fanfiction #pedro stories #pedrostories

240 notes · View notes

rosenbergamot · 2 months

Text

“You’re annoying me.” Gem says to the mysterious shape in the water that’s been watching her fish for the past… oh, I don’t know, five days. Usually the thing will swim away quickly, or sometimes it will disregard her ire and continue to sit there as if it relished in her annoyance. Today it slaps its tail against the water, sending waves towards her.

“That was childish.” She blows a raspberry at it because she herself is the pinnacle of maturity.

It slaps the water again, splashing her and giving her a mouthful of briny seawater. She spits it out, unamused. Its tail is large, with deep blue scales that sparkle in the morning sun. Whatever this thing is, it's big and it loves to watch her talk to herself.

“You know we’re on the same side here, right?” This is a lie and they both know it. Fisherman and fish could never be on the same side. “Hey, how about if I catch anything I’ll give you some of it. But you have to promise to stop scaring the fish away!”

The tail slowly raises out of the water. It does not slap down like it did before. Instead, slowly, so slowly, a head raises out as well. She sees two deep eyes stare back at her, a head of messy brown hair, a smile sharp and intelligent.

“What?!” She gawks.

“You promise, mate?” It has a playful voice, melodic and feminine, and when it speaks its gills flare at its neck. “I don’t take too kindly to people breaking their promises.”

“You’re a person?”

It purses its lips. “Not really? What, you think a person looks like this?” She unearths her fingers from the water. The sea drips off of her long sharp claws. “Couldn’t do much with these if I was a person.”

“Uh… yeah!” She recasts her line, her eyes wandering across the pale skin until she reaches the chest and— oh! The… person? Creature? Whatever it is, it’s shirtless, and Gem doesn’t want to be caught staring. That’s so rude! She fixes her gaze on her rod.

It swims closer to her. It gets so close she’d be able to touch if she wanted. It rests its head on the dock, stares up at her with vertical pupils. She’s got silvery patchings of scales on her face.

This is… only a little bit different from what they’d been doing before. She can still handle it. It’s just… right there instead of in the water. And instead of just being a fish it is a very pretty woman with very sharp teeth. That’s okay! Gem’s okay!

She goes back to fishing, those eyes still on her. Eventually she hooks a salmon and cheers. The creature blinks at her as she puts it in her bucket.

“None for me?” She pouts.

“Oh, no! You’ll just have to wait!” She grabs more bait. “I need to feed myself, after all. I’m a busy woman, can’t have some fish lady taking all my food!”

A miserable sigh. It bonks its head back down on the dock. “You’re lucky I think you’re pretty.”

That catches her off guard. She accidentally hooks a bit of her thumb as she’s trying to hook the worm. She curses and shakes the blood off. The creature’s eyes follow it.

“Uh-huh… and why’s that?”

When she responds, she’s not looking at Gem. She’s staring at her bleeding thumb. Her long tongue comes out to lick at her lips. She grins at her.

“‘Cause I’d have just eaten you already if I didn’t.”

When she swallows, it watches the way her throat moves with attentive eyes. They sit there in silence for the rest of the day.

It ends up swimming away with five whole fish in her grasp. As she’s disappearing, she yells back to Gem:

“See ya tomorrow, pretty fisher lady!” Her teeth reflect the sun. “I hope ya catch lots of stuff tomorrow! For both our sakes!”

Then it’s gone, tail the last thing to leave, and Gem is left to wonder if she’s just invited something horrible into her life…

And if so, why is she excited about it?

#gempearl #shiny duo #hello gempearl enjoyers . here i am .#gem says oughh pretty fish lady wants to kill me?? ok :)!!!#also it/she pearl on top #pearl is a weird eldritch mermaid type thing #gem is experiencing the forbidden yuri #hermitfic #rosie writing #hermitshipping

318 notes · View notes

kelocitta · 7 months

Text

In honor of the @rw-ship-showdown I wanted to write about Artihunter as someone who jokingly slapped them together pre-downpour and still thinks they are actually very compelling. Just not in the super soft love wins kinda way (Although I get why people like that more) And the only way I know how to do that is talking too much so heres a far too long slug essay-

Obviously the slugcats don't offer a ton of characterization but theres not nothing to work with. Their stories, whether by their roles in it or the overarching themes do provide a backbone to work with. Even gameplay itself can provide a bit. (for some more than others) Hunter, to me, is ultimately a story about selflessness. The goal is to revive Moon, which is very much an act of kindness from both Hunter and NSH. But the weight of that action is much more significant for Hunter- Hunter is deeply sick. They're on the clock, and for all their skill in combat none of that will ultimately help them to survive longer than their body can hold out. Moon is a close friend of NSH but that means little Hunter- Hunter really gets next to nothing out of helping them, and ultimately pays quiet a bit spending their limited time alive fighting to deliver that neuron so that someone else can live.

To spend ones limited days on helping another, in a game that very much stresses the unwavering cruelty of the world and nature- is pretty notable. (And you could even say that Hunter being the Hardmode of Rain World adds another layer to this)

And then we have Artificer. A storyline that very much stands out to people as more… villainous (so to speak) than the other slugcats. Artificer's story covers a lot of things. Trauma, violence, revenge, etc. Revenge is a bit of a selfish desire- That need to see someone hurt as they have hurt you. A punishment that ultimately does not fix whatever harm was done- but feels good to see because you were hurt and now those responsible share that pain.

Artificer's actions are founded in that need for revenge, their pups killed for overstepping boundaries they didn't know existed. Is it not fair for them to be angry at that, to punish the scavengers for their violence with their own? Why should the scavengers ever be forgiven when they and their pups were not? And that's how you get that loop- Harm for harm over and over.

The original action has been lost in a spiral of violence for violence. And here stands Artificer- their very spirit scarred. Not just because they sought revenge, but because they never ceased trying to scratch that itch for violence as an answer. Artificer only has two paths for their story- killing the scavenger king (Someone who, really, has little to do with the original 'crime' of the scavengers, but represents an important individual to them- as did the slugpups to Artificer), locking themselves as karma one for good and spending the rest of their life chasing creatures that no longer even fight back in a warped sense of closure- or to dissolve themselves in the acids of the void sea because they're too far gone to find any real peace.

They can't meaningfully recover from that state, not alone, twisting in on themselves. Even if they halt their actions, they've been using violence as a feeble defense against their own pain- violence that no longer has any real direction or basis. Artificer gets no real closure from killing the scavenger king. All they can do is continue the cycle, or try to scrub it away. No real peace in a prison of their own making. So you have a creature, who even with a strict timer on their life- a body that will crumble to disease, spends its last bit of time on saving another. And another who was so caught up in the pain of loss that were eaten alive by their own anger, poisoned their own soul on such a deep level even self-proclaimed gods have no solution for them. What peace can they offer each other? For Hunter, its only a fleeting moment of happiness- of selfish love, before their own body fails them. A bit of indulgence in something for themself. For Artificer, its a single, comforting thread to ground them again, something tangible to protect and care about again. But thats a thread that will ultimately be snapped under the cruel indifference of the world. Hunters timer will tick down regardless of if it takes another with it. Its a tragedy- its doomed to end badly. Whatever good it offers to either of them to find each other will only provide the fleeting comfort of a band-aid that will be ripped away too early. But all that can be worth indulging in anyway, if only for the moment. It doesn't change the ending, but the ending was never going to be happy. Its can so yuri

#rain world #rw shipping #tagging that just cause this is explicitly about that even though I usually dont do shipping stuff #with that said i dont even think this particular interpretation of a possible dynamic needs to be romantic its just kinda #about companionship in general. companionship thats going to absolutely shred an already unstable slug emotionally but thats #the point. friendship and love in spite of the unavoidable ending #just noticed this is like 80% theme analysis and 20% 'these go together just trust me'#but also theyre both girls because i want them to and also because im channeling hornet from hollow knight #who made me so deeply ill that my rain world tags still havent outcompeted my Hk tags because i drew her so much. so so much.#hunter is hornet coded to me and artificer is like if angela and gebura from lc combined into a deeply fucked up ferret #also i did tag the poll because they kinda inspired this but also. i wasnt gonna put all this out here WITHOUT a readmore thats embarassing #but i guess this is propaganda for a ship already seen as popular but like... idk i think theres something to it even as someone #who did literally slap them together originally because they were both red slugcats i considered girls. predownpour so we didnt have anythi #anyway hi tag readers i have so much work to do im being bad by writing about gay slugs. i need to get myself together #its so late this might just be nonsense bwaaaaaaa

649 notes · View notes

gallusrostromegalus · 8 months

Text

On God I was working on the AEIWAM Outline today but I also got "The AEIWAM cast, post-fic, go to the Aquarium" brainrot so have this:

It kicks off with Retsu seeing Kenpachi deep in thought for once and asking him what he's mulling over and after a moment he asks: "Are there zoos for fish?" "...Pardon?" "There are lotsa fish," he reasons, "-at least as many as there are land animals, but they're all really hard to see, because they're in the water." Retsu considers him for a moment before gently asking "Do you mean The Aquarium?" "The what?"

Retsu, texting Ichigo in the Gotei-13 Groupchat at 2AM: I need you to acquire tickets and human chaperones for a group field trip to The Aquarium Ichigo, who fears her above everyone else in soul society: Yes, Captain. Retsu: If it was just the SWA I'd only ask for tickets but you know what The Lads are like. Ichigo: Unfortunately, Yes. Ichigo: I'll bring the first aid kit, zip ties, duct tape and candy. Retsu: Good man.

Upon Arrival, Kenpachi has already been lectured about "You ARE NOT ALLOWED to fight and/or eat the fish, no matter how annoying and/or delicious they look

Turns out they were lecturing the wrong guy because it's Byakuya that develops a personal rivalry with a grouper ("It's smug expression disgusts me." "Captain that is a FISH.") and has to be talked out of climbing into the tank to fight it

after that he has to hold hands with Rukia or Renji.

Rukia discovers Sea Bunnies and ends up crying about them.

Yachiru gets to see them feeding the Piranha and it's a Spiritual Experience for her.

Later, she gets to see them feed the sharks and it's an EVEN BETTER spiritual Experience.

Hitsugaya learns Penguins are real and not just 'made up for christmas, like the flying reindeer and the guy with the suspect toy charity'.

Momo lights into him about "Penguins are my favorite animal, they've been my favorite animal for decades YOU THOUGHT THEY WERE FAKE?" Hitsugaya: "YOU ALSO USED TO LIKE UNICORNS!" Momo: "THOSE ARE ALSO REAL!" Orihime: "They are?" Momo: "...I keep forgetting they're extinct in the living world."

Tousen gets to experience the Touch Pool and the docents realize what's up so they start pulling out the cool stuff like sea hares and moray eels because he's an adult that can be trusted to pet things gently.

When the group comes back to collect him the staff is letting him hand feed a Pacific Red Octopus, and Yachiru immediately demands she be allowed to as well.

Retsu quietly releases Minazuki into the stingray touch pool so she can "go play with her cousins :)"

Kenpachi and Yamamoto asking "Can we eat it?" about every. single. animal.

The extremely dedicated docent that is *just* Psychic enough to know something is up with this group of chucklefucks so they're following them through the aquarium, but is also genuinely having fun answering every fucking insane question these guys ask.

Yoruichi was not anticipating there to be Tigers at the aquarium (they ARE semi-aquatic and part of a larger exhibit on Tropical Riparian Ecosystems) and she is SUPER NOT JEALOUS of how much Urahara and Baby Labcat like them.

There is also an exhibit with an Anaconda that the docent finds Rangiku staring at with a forlorn expression. Docent: "It's okay, not everyone is a fan of snakes." Rangiku: "What? Oh, no, I love snakes. They just also remind me of my Ex." Docent: *WomanTryingToDoMath.Meme* Docent: *Considers the size of the Anaconda* Docent: "...Ah. Yeah, I'd miss a man like that too."

Renji, Ichigo and Ikkaku going "Its YOU!" to each other over every single red, orange or round creature.

Kenpachi going "IT ME!!" about the black urchins before anyone can get him though.

Shunsui pointing at the sea otters that are holding hands and declaring, tears in his eyes "Jushiro! It's US!" Ukitake then prompty ruins the moment by telling Shunsui Fun Facts about Sea Otters like how they're basically giant marine weasels that will absolutely drown each other's young and maul anyone dumb enough to touch one.

The Dolphins all love Komamura and he is just a little bit smug about this.

Relatedly, not sure if its funnier for Komamura to show up in a Human Gigai, or as Tousen's "Service Dog"

Human Gigai: -Komamura is weirdly stony-faced and sort of intimidating and everyone thinks he's stressed out but really he's used to making micro-expressions and gesturing with his ears so he sorta just forgot how to move his face. -Still Nine and a Half feet tall and smacking his head on Everything

Service Dog: -"He's uh. A Shepherd. Mix." Ichigo says to the aforementioned Docent about what is very obviously a Bigass Timber Wolf. -Sajin doesn't give a rat's ass about his cover and keeps talking to Tousen while in dog form. If anyone looks at him funny he makes direct eye contact and says "Woof. Bark."

Yamamoto vs. Escalator. Catastrophic Beard Incident. 2 injured, 16 Dead but they were like that already.

Ukitake, Retsu, and Tama all Not Shutting Up With Facts About Every Fish Ever because they all share a Special Interest.

They briefly lose Byakuya in the Jellyfish exhibit because Rukia and Renji both thought the other one was holding Byakuya's hand and he is *enchanted* by the wall-sized tank of Moon Jellies.

Ikkaku attempting to talk Yachiru out of getting the ridiculously oversized Great White Shark plushie only for Zaraki to get it for both of them instead.

Everyone had a great time and is Very Tired and so they don't realize anything is amiss until they get back to Ichigo's place and the nightly news comes on. "Hey ichigo?" Yuzu calls. "Why is Ms. Unohana on TV?" The news has a story with a still image of Retsu on CCTV and "Authorities are looking for this woman who somehow ADDED a fully intact and highly venomous short-tailed stingray to the aquarium's touch pool" "OH MY GOD WE FORGOT MINAZUKI!"

#AEIWAM #An Elephant Is Warm And Mushy #Bleach #Bleach fanfic #retsu unohana #kenpachi zaraki #jushiro ukitake #Genryusai Yamamoto #kaname tousen #sajin komamura #yachiru kusajishi #rukia kuchiki #byakuya kuchiki #renji abarai #ichigo kurosaki

860 notes · View notes

gabessquishytum · 2 months

Note

Mermaid!Dream has been watching this human for a while now. He lives in a small house by the sea and takes walks along the shore almost daily and he's the handsomest human Dream has ever seen. So Dream finally decides that he's going to court his human.

He finds the prettiest rock he can. It's perfectly smooth, a swirl of different shades of pink with tinges of purple, and fits nicely in his palm. It's perfect and he's sure it will make the human fall in love with him.

So he goes back to the surface and waits for the human to walk by. Once he sees his human he realizes he doesn't know how to give him the rock. Dream usually lingers a small distance from the shoreline around some rocks where the water is still deep enough for him to swim, but it's a little far from his human. So, he just kinda. Throws it. At Hob.

Unfortunately Dream's aim is a little too good and it hits Hob square in the head and knocks him out. Dream panics, thinking he's maybe just killed his beautiful human and he rushes as fast as he can out of the ocean and shifts and squirms up the beach until he's leaning over the human and moving his head around gently trying to see if he's okay.

Hob wakes up and his vision's a little blurry and he's a lot confused and his head hurts but inches away from his face is the most gorgeous man he's ever seen and there are hands on either side of his face and the pretty man is saying something, he sounds worried? Hob's not totally sure, his hearing is all weird and muffled, but he's pretty sure he's in heaven and this man is an angel.

Akskdjffhsj Dream accidentally almost killing his crush is so funny, bless him.

Hob is like "Are you an angel?" And Dream is like "no I am a merperson." All deadpan and serious. Hob nearly passes out all over again, but he manages to calm down by gazing into the pretty man's eyes. He's pretty sure that any head injury is worth being able to gaze at this beautiful creature. And he only gets more enamored when he's well enough to lift his head, and he gets to see Dream’s smooth pale body and incredible iridescent tail.

Dream is now totally embarrassed and he kind of shoves the rock into Hob’s hand, blushing and muttering about courting gifts. Hob lights up and admires the rock, turning it and holding it up to the light, even though moving around makes his head hurt. He's so amazed that someone as beautiful as Dream would want to court him and give him a gift!

Dream has to get back to the water, and Hob needs to go lie down, but they agree to meet the next day. Hob spends the time bandaging his head and desperately trying to think of a gift that's good enough for Dream. He wants to court Dream and woo him, but what kind of gift would a merperson like to receive?

Hob ends up gathering a bouquet of wild flowers and seaweed from around the sand dunes and the beach. Hopefully Dream will like it! And of course, he does. He's not quite sure if he's meant to eat it (luckily he's doesn't) but he's absolutely thrilled that Hob got him a gift! Even after Dream accidently nearly killed him!

They share their first kiss at the edge of the water, as the sun sets over the sea. Hob’s vision may still be a little fuzzy, but he already knows - Dream is the most beautiful creature in the world!

#the sandman #dreamling

342 notes · View notes

softlyspector · 3 months

Text

joel body worship! stream of consciousness nonsense that i did not reread nor edit! companion piece to this wherein joel worships your body, but not necessary to read first.

wc: 1.4k

warnings: body worship, you🫵 worshiping joel this time, not exactly smut but smuttish, descriptions of body hair and bush once again - on both reader and joel, dare i say sub joel, wolf and guard dog vibes, mentions of violence, etc etc etc, you know how it goes.

“You’re so beautiful,” you say to him. “Did you know that?”

No. Of course not, no. And he doesn’t believe it either, not when you say it right then.

Tucked closer in his arms, a slow contraction of muscle; a quiet shush of breath, disbelieving, lips to your forehead.

His lips are soft on your skin.

Press, press, press. Gentleness, never admitted to.

You love his body.

The sacrifice he begged to make with it, that you sometimes indulged and sometimes did not.

The scars, infinite craters and half moons and lightning strikes to discover. Hand prints and bruises in the shape of fingerprints on golden, warm skin, given away by that skin, this body.

A touch of madness, when you look at him; a consuming, biting need to take. To hoard, to corral.

Dragon with gold, wolf with sheep.

Yours.

Teeth to skin, delicate, like the spill of something sweet down your wrists. If you dug your teeth in, he would let you, and he’d drip down your chin, sticky on your skin like fruit juice. Tangerine or peach.

You love the way he feels inside you. Interconnected, threads of fate, heavy inside you, full. Warm. Too full. Perfect.

You love how warm he is. Never a complaint about cold hands and fingers digging into, asking, against him. Palm pressed over yours to keep them there, your icicle hands. There there there. Because he would cut open his chest to keep you warm. Stick your fingers inside his ribs.

Not just because of the chill in your hands, no. But because you like to touch, feel. Muscle and tendon and vein. Coarse hair and too hot skin. The thickness of his forearm and bicep and the flex of dense muscle there, contraction of his belly.

Push and pull, drip of sweat at his throat. Shiny with it, shimmering. So pretty.

The pulse of his heartbeat like the wings of a living animal, a creature you could palm and nurture.

That you do sometimes, curled fingers pressed there against his throat, just to feel it, the shape of his breath and the throb of his heart against your thumb nestled into that little hollow, that little space.

Fits perfectly there, thumbprint against gleaming, glistening skin. Exertion. His body over yours. Consuming and consumed, heavy over you and thrusting deep, holding you steady.

Starbursts behind your eyes, rolling back. Grip and roll and push and give.

Give, give, give.

Sweet in the sunshine and the moonlight and standing in the doorway so angry because you didn’t listen again. Arms over chest, clench and release of jaw beneath his beard. You like when he looks like that. Worried, beneath all the bluster.

Dark hair on his chest and thighs and forearms and between his legs. All of it soft, something to drag your nails along and through and sigh.

Fingers curled through the peppered hair on his head, fine lines of sea salt threading through brown. Soft bristles of his beard when he kisses you, when he drowns himself in your pussy, when he pulls at you until you move where he wants you, against his mouth, hands in his hair guiding him, soothing and praising.

Fine lines by his eyes and the wrinkle in his forehead and the creases in his throat. That fade when he relaxes and sleeps, that go deep with stress and laughter.

Signs of age, he would argue. Stress. Nothing to look at.

Signs of life, signs of living. Something to trace besides the scars and cuts and the press of a finger into a bruise to watch him wince and swat you away.

So good.

There’s no sense in telling him, any of it, no sense in saying it. He would not believe you. He’s beautiful, cut from hallowed cloth, stitched together with pearl white thread. Stong, wide shoulders, roll of muscle and sinew, narrow hips, raised bump of vein in the hollows at his hips, the softness of his stomach, the hard press of muscle beneath.

It’s good to be wanted, nice to be needed.

By him.

By Joel.

Beneath you, hips rolling against his, curled over him. He always makes a sound you don’t think he hears, unraveled and unspooled, ripped from the pit of his belly. And you love it.

You like his hands on your hips and thighs and breasts, the delicate pull of his tongue along your cunt.

The shape of his shoulders silhouetted in the window, the broad frame of him edged in light. The pull of his t-shirt or flannel tight across his body. The sound of his voice, the graveled, rough pull of it, somehow still soft. His hey and g’mornin’. Pressed into your palm, into your open mouth, words swallowed down into your belly.

He isn’t like you, won’t stand naked, won’t abide that, too embarrassed, too mannered and well raised for that. Thinks nothing of his body, the thing you love, the thing he uses to give.

A wish that he would hung over your head like a scythe, just to look and trace. Just to get your fill of him. Just so he understood, even if for only a minute. What it all means, how it feels.

Another thing, another love.

Voice.

He hums under his breath, sweet and soothing. He talks to himself and you love to hear it.

No one else can hear that, the way he talks to himself and hums and mumbles and breathes. You like the way he breathes, you like to listen to him breathe, and it makes you sick with something unsaid. Fold and crease of lungs and heart. It’s a song, a kind he sings without knowing.

The same voice you feel against your hand when you press it to his throat when his tongue is in your cunt. Or, the desperate way he moves above you, faster, frantic, when you do it.

He likes that. Head laid at the gallows. Likes your hand there and you like to do it. Like to watch the strain of tendons and vein, feel his breath shudder and the spiderweb of pulsing blood.

You love the taste of him, the heaviness of his cock on your tongue, swallows hungrily down your throat. You love the red and delicate pink that stains his cheeks and throat and chest, the prettiest, warmest flush of skin. The sounds he makes, grunts and curses, always quiet.

Rough pads of fingers ghosting over your cheeks and neck and jaw. Never pushing. Knows better than to push. Soft and feeling, here and there.

You love the press of his fingers between yours. Curve and strength, clench and asking, seeking.

You love the blood on his hands, the bruised cut of his knuckles.

Stands, talks, smells.

God, help you, but you love the way he smells. Leather, the earthy loam of rotting places, sunshine, pine, gun oil, the tangy salt of blood and sweat. It’s good somehow. Or maybe it isn’t. You love it anyway.

You love the musk of him, the safe press of his body over yours. Strong strength that brushed against yours. Chest to chest, clawing desperate fingers at your thigh and knee, teeth at the edge of jaw, head tilted back, offering.

You love his nose, the bump on the bridge of it. The part of his lips against yours, the fan of his breath in your mouth, fingers curled deep inside you, probing, searching, prodding, finding pleasure tucked into corners you didn’t know existed.

So attentive. So attuned.

No one else, you think. Not another soul would ever search you like this one, would ever find parts of you just because he wanted to, likes to.

You love that, hiding away, being found anyway.

Broad hands and thick fingers, callused from everything, the world and work and music. He wants to hear you sing and you want the same, but you refuse and so does he. Two silenced canaries.

Lines in his palms, seams of the earth.

You love the way he holds a knife and a gun and the way he goes predator still when he knows, senses, something is wrong. Hand on hip pulling you back and away, blood on palms, supplicating, asking, begging to be good, to do this for you. Knows you could do it yourself, spill blood, has seen it, has watched, but likes to do it for you anyway.

No sense in saying it again, won’t believe you again.

He’s humming, the vibrations knocking against your temple. Hands you love tracing over the curve of your hip and pouch of your belly and the downy hair on your thighs and between your legs that he likes. Loves.

He likes the hair and your body and you know that in all the ways you can. He makes sure of it.

But this is a one sided believing, obsession, you know he’s sure of that, too. That he was meant to give and hope it was enough. Nothing more. Never something returned.

He won’t believe you.

You close your eyes, and tell him again, anyway.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #this is not as good as the other one and I started going off the intended goal of them being the same length fics so #here you are

170 notes · View notes

ataraxiaspainting · 3 months

Note

Hi, thanks for sending te rules ^^. For the request, can I please have yan mermaid Ruan Mei x fem human reader one shot? Basically, Ruan Mei meets a human and she find them interesting, but later discovers that the reader is dating. So Ruan Mei decides why not to kidnap her future darling.

please ruan mei is so pretty...... I CAN FIX HER GUYS!!

Birth of Venus.

Yan (Mermaid) Ruan Mei x F Reader.

Synopsis: Legends say the ocean’s waters are salty because of the tears of mermaids.

Warnings: Yandere themes and kidnapping.

Word Count: 700.

*~*~*~*

Upon catching sight of you for the first time, she finds herself at a loss for thoughts and emotions.

For her to lose sight of the former is as rare as her finding something not covered in rust and fading away with age on the bottom of the ocean floor. But, like those priceless moments, with her fingers gliding above and beneath a small mountain of gold coins in a treasure chest she spent more than a day trying to unlock, she could not bear herself to let go, to let something so precious go to waste. Time is of the essence though, because as much as she wants to simply take you beneath the waters with her hands, the scales on them never scarred with the color purer than that of the sky above you both, she has to wait for the right time, for everything to be set up accordingly. It is what she does best, after all, planning and soon discarding everything that provides little value to her, and perhaps soon to you, because, in the end, it is not uncommon for her to lose her emotions. They hold no significance at present or in the future, and she will release them once more in her quest for everything she desires. Thus, she patiently waits, concealed beneath the water, listening to the gentle sound of your footsteps on the sand and the joyful exclamations that escape your lips whenever you discover another seashell she intentionally left on the shoreline for you.

Everything and everyone she encounters, regardless of whether they are from the sea or the land above, bow down to her and her radiance, even creatures similar to her both in physique and intellectual prowess. She hopes the same will be what you do too, but she does not. Despite how ironic it sounds, you are the breath of fresh air she never had. She desires for you to remain unchanged, even if she resorts to preserving you as ice submerged deep beneath the ocean, thus ensuring your eternal presence. Nevertheless, she sincerely hopes this extreme measure will never be necessary.

She will try her best to ensure such.

Despite her emotions being minuscule, barely the size of a single caviar bead, she finds herself unable to articulate this indescribable sensation that threatens to overwhelm all logic she has.

Because when she caught sight of you for what felt like the hundredth time, she saw you kiss someone else by the shoreline, next to the special shell she obtained after hours upon hours of searching just for you.

For what felt like the first time in all her life, she felt sorrow, then anger, and hate. Her emotions finally gave way after all these months of observing you from afar, and tears gave way. But she doesn't know what to do now. All planning, what she has always been good at, along with her logic, which she also has been exemplary at, has all been washed away by the tides of fear, envy, and sadness. After what felt like an eternity of weeping over her loss, making the seawater get even saltier because of her tears, she concluded. She must act now, or you will be forever out of her grasp. She needs to take immediate action to regain her rationality and control her emotions once more. Despite her love for you, Ruan Mei will always be self-centered, and this fundamental aspect of her character is unlikely to change, even if she desires it. It is simply a matter of time until everything reverts to its previous state.

So, as you venture near the coast, captivated by the enchanting melodies emerging from the sea, she springs into action. With astonishing speed, so swift that you won't perceive it until it's too late, she delivers a powerful blow and drags you under the waters, where you will stay forevermore.

#aya abstractions #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere hsr #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr x reader #yandere ruan mei #yandere ruan mei x reader #ruan mei x reader #yandere honkai star rail x reader #yandere mermaid #yandere mermaid x reader #mermaid x reader #100 followers event

172 notes · View notes

jesterwriting · 6 months

Text

characters: sanji x vampire!gn!reader

contents: handjobs, bottom sanji, blood drinking gone sexual, reader is slightly animalistic from hunger, sanji is always happy to provide a meal, medically inaccurate, not proofread

word count: 1.5k words

note: i got vampire brainrot at 3 am last night. that is all.

playlist: tear you apart - she wants revenge

Hungry.

You were painfully hungry.

Your stomach clenched, growling so loud, you were sure it would wake the crew. Though your heart no longer beat, you couldn’t help the fear that coursed through your veins at the thought. The last thing you needed was one of your friends coming across you when you were starving, slathering like an animal as you paced on deck in the dead of night.

Everything hurt. Your instincts were going haywire with the all encompassing desire to feed; to sink your claws into whatever living creature who dared cross your path and bleed them dry.

The new moon hung overhead and the deck was bathed in shadows. Your sight was not hindered by the lack of light, pupils dilated so large your eyes were sure to be a sea of black. Stalking forward, your footsteps faltered when you heard a sound from the kitchen.

Bu-bump.

A heartbeat. Your lips pulled back in a snarl as saliva pooled in your mouth. It was a lone heartbeat, pumping liters of fresh blood through the veins of a silly little human who was up too late for their own good.

Your world was bathed in shades of gray. The varnish of the wood at your feet seemed to be etched in silver. Night vision was not only practical, but beautiful. If you weren’t so damn hungry, you would take a moment to appreciate it.

Opening your mouth, you scented the air. You recoiled when the sour, but familiar, taste of cigarettes hit the back of your throat.

You knew who was waiting for you in the kitchen. The one whose heartbeat called to you, sang to you, begged to be devoured. Your hands shook at your sides, the door to the kitchen growing closer as your feet moved of their own accord. The rational side of you screamed at you to leave, to lock yourself in your room until morning where you would land on an island and finally restock your blood supply. The animal side of you, however, was never one to give up on a meal.

You loved your friends, they were like family to you. Not once did they make you feel guilt for your dietary needs, nor did they make you feel like a monster. Now, as you ran your tongue over your fangs, you wished they were scared of you. The desire to hunt was buried deep in your very marrow, muscles clenched tightly in preparation to pounce as you turned the knob. You dreamed of the sensation of sinking your teeth into soft, prone flesh. Warm with life, so different from your own.

Light blinded you for a second. You blinked a few times, adjusting to the brightness, before Sanji’s figure drew your eye. He was hunched over the sink, staring out of the porthole.

You could smell him from here. What would his blood taste like, you wondered. Rich, meaty, or floral. Your fingers twitched in anticipation, clawed nails grazed the flesh of your palm. Sanji still hadn’t noticed you, too caught up in his own thoughts to see your approach. Every squeaky board on the ship was memorized in the back of your head. It was almost a dance: step, turn, dip, step again, as you quietly stalked toward the ship’s cook.

You could see the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Sanji whipped around, revealing an ashtray with a still smoking cigarette resting in it.

“Y/N?”

The acrid stench of fear filled the room, if only for a moment, before Sanji relaxed. You met his eyes and mimicked his stance, mouth open slightly to taste the air. He was so close, you could practically taste him. It wasn’t until you heard a loud ‘plop,’ did you realize you were drooling.

Concern flitted over his face as Sanji drew closer to you. He was so warm, smelled so delectable, it took all of your self control to keep from pouncing on him and draining him dry. You gripped the counter so hard it cracked.

The noise caused Sanji’s expression to jump. Gently, he placed his hand on your shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Hungry,” You ground out.

You didn’t realize he had removed his coat until the top few buttons of his dress shirt were loose. Sanji tilted his head to the side to reveal the pale column of his throat. You swallowed hard.

“So eat.”

Hands shaking, you struggled to contain yourself as you approached him. “I don’t want to kill you.”

“I trust you,” Sanji said, as if you weren’t a monster, drooling at the sight of him.

You trailed your fingers down his cheek and along his jaw, watching a trail goosebumps well in their wake. He trembled under your grasp, but there was no longer the scent fear in the air. Sanji was telling the truth, he really trusted you.

Breath shaky, you brought your lips to his jugular. “Kick me if you feel faint.”

“I won’t have to do that.”

The scent of him was driving you mad. Unable to control yourself any longer, you sank your fangs into his tender flesh. Sanji let out a gasp and brought his hand to cup the back of your head as you started to suck. Your fingers tangled in his hair to drag him closer to you. He tasted heavenly and floral. Almost like rose water, but richer, the barest hint of iron tickling the back of your throat. You moaned, sending vibrations against his skin as you drank from him, desperate to fill yourself with as much of him as you could.

Sanji’s whimpered as your tongue darted out to caress him, the pink muscle leaving a sticky trail of saliva as your feast grew sloppier. You wanted more of him, from flesh, to bone, to marrow, devouring him whole until nothing was left behind. Sanji’s sweat was salty. It only added to the bouquet of flavors you were indulging in. Gently, you stroked his face with your free hand, a silent praise of how good he was being for you. With a breathy gasp, Sanji tilted his head back, eyelashes fluttering against your palm.

“Taste good, love?” You tried not to focus on how his voice hitched when your lips suctioned against his jugular. An insatiable heat pooled in your gut.

You responded by placing an open mouthed kiss to his skin. He shivered under your lips. He could feel you smirk as you dragged your hand down his chest and along his hip to his crotch where you met the hard bulge in his slacks. Your fingers were gentle, toying with him.

“Say the word and I stop,” You muttered.

Sanji bucked into your palm. “Please, don’t stop.”

Expertly, you unbuttoned his pants and slipped your hand under his waistline. His cock throbbed when you gripped him, a small moan falling from Sanji’s lips and into the air where you could taste his arousal. He was hot, almost too hot, against your palm. There was a small part of you that was worried your naturally frigid body temperature would be a turn off for him, but he seemed to be enjoying it if his desperate thrusts into your hand were any indication. You spread precum down his cock until he was slick enough for your hand to glide along the length of him. He whined when your thumb brushed over the head, only for the noise to cut short when you suckled the sensitive skin of his throat. Your sharp fangs lightly nipped at whatever inch of skin you could find.

He was delicious, pliant and soft under you. What you wouldn’t give to have Sanji moaning like this every night. With the taste of roses on your lips, you sped up your ministrations, moving on from lazy flicks of your wrist to rapid strokes that met the speed of his thrusts. He was shuddering as he panted, the noise so hot you could barely stand it. What was once feeding became a trail of hickies along his collarbone. You could feel his body tense, Sanji’s grip in your hair tightening.

“F-Fuck, I’m cumming,” Was the only warning you got before he spurt hot ropes of cum against your fingers and into the fabric of his underwear.

You continued to stroke him, giggling as he twitched in your arms, before removing your hand from his now soft cock. Full for the first time in days, you lapped at Sanji’s wound until it closed. Healing spit was one of the few benefits of being a vampire, aside from enhanced strength and speed. You pulled away and wiped your lips with the back of your hand, smearing blood and semen across the bottom half of your face. Sanji stared down at you as if you were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on, even as filthy as you were.

He stumbled, and you took great care to slowly bring him to a sitting position on the floor. “You’re probably lightheaded, I drank a lot.”

Somewhat pale, Sanji met your worried gaze with a smile. “Nonsense, my angel, Next time you're hungry, feel free to seek me out. I am a meal made for you to enjoy.”

#one piece x reader #sanji x reader #sanji x you #.jesterwrites

246 notes · View notes