#‘human’ series

[nouns-are-bad]

“Human” soap joining the 141 because he’s always been drawn to challenges and fights. He acts like a mortal and looks like one, but no one can shake off the feeling of wrongness they get around him.

“Human” gaz who joined the task force for more exposure to different kinds of mortals, unknowingly joins the task force that already has an other worldly being

“Human” price who thinks the two sergeants already know this task force was made specifically for gods or eldritch beings

Human ghost who thinks the other three are just weirdos and who is he to say anything about being weird? He wears a skull mask!

Price fully well knows ghost is just a human and thinks it funny he’s just like that.

[kryptiq-kreachur]

Bedhead Amy...

I was inspired by the new Sonic Channel art of Amy doing her "hair", so i drew what i think she would look like after waking up with bed hair. She just like me lol

[toboldlymuppet]

✨ You have reached the goal [Postmortal] ✨

my piece for @trafficzine 's wild life/6th edition! oh impulse, impulse, better luck next time...

[s3znl-gr3znl]

Me and some of my moots tbh

[eveliwol]

I drew maany things

But most importantly..

[multific]

Marked for Him

Yautja x Reader

Summary: You were meant to be nothing more than a trophy, a rare human prize in a Yautja’s hunt. But instead of killing you, your captor keeps you.

The cold metal walls of the Yautja ship felt cold around you, a stark contrast to the burning heat of your captor’s gaze.

You had expected death the moment you were taken. You expected to be strung up like the other trophies you had seen, their skulls cleaned and polished as a true sign of victory.

But days had passed, and you remained untouched.

Not harmed, not locked away like some caged animal, but kept in his personal quarters, a space filled with weapons, armour, and relics of past hunts. He brought you food, strange meats and exotic fruits.

He watched you, always silent, always hovering at a distance, but never hurting you.

And when another Yautja entered the room one evening, his stance was predatory, his clicking voice was speaking words you could not understand, and you saw the first hint of true aggression from your captor.

The air turned sharp, charged with something primal.

Your Yautja, yes, yours, though you hardly understood why you thought of him that way, let out a deep growl, stepping between you and the newcomer.

The second Yautja tilted his head, mandibles flaring in the challenge, but before he could move, your protector struck.

It happened so fast, claws raking, fists colliding, bodies slamming against the walls with enough force to shake the room.

The fight was brutal and efficient.

And when your Yautja stood victorious, the other writhing beneath his clawed hand, he snarled something low and guttural before tossing the defeated hunter aside like a broken toy.

Then, he turned to you.

His chest heaved, his body coiled tight with something he had been holding back for too long.

Slowly, he approached, his massive form towering over you, but there was no fear in you.

You had stopped fearing him after you just saw him defend you.

He reached out, talons brushing against your cheek, then trailing down to your throat where his claws barely pressed against your skin. Not enough to hurt but enough to make you feel.

A soft rumble vibrated in his chest, something like a purr, something almost tender. As tender as a being like him was able to.

Then, he moved his hand lower, to your arm, where the faintest shimmer of a mark had begun to appear.

A claim. A bond. A mark only he could give.

“You marked me?” you whispered, voice barely audible.

His mandibles clicked, and his eyes locked onto yours.

Mine.

The word was unspoken, but you felt it all the same.

And you knew, without question, that you were his.

His mate. His treasure. His everything.

When his massive arms wrapped around you, pulling you into the safest embrace you had ever known, you didn’t resist. You melted into him, letting the steady beat of his heart soothe the whirlwind of emotions inside you.

You had been taken as a trophy. But you had been kept as something far more precious.

And you would never belong to anyone else.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[chio-chan2artbox]

Desperate measures :v

Inspired by @agentlizardofowca‘s draddle ✨

READ HERE

[antennatoheaven]

trying to sell the murderbot diaries to other robot fans is an uphill battle. yes, i also prefer it when my robots don't have human looking faces. i understand why you might not be happy with its appearance, but guess who's also not happy with having a human face

[azulhood]

DPxDC crossover but, instead of Danny being his ghostly-horror self, the justice league believe that he's just some guy.

Danny: *glowing eyes, sharp teeth, aura of eldritch being*

Villain: You're seeing this right?

Justice league: *turns around to find all the ghostly stuff gone* oh that's Danny *waves* hi Danny!

Villain: ...are you being serious right now?

It's not even that he's doing it on purpose, it's just anytime he does ghost things none of the heros are looking, and when they do have him in their sights he's just a normal person.

It probably wouldn't work for batman and his thousand cameras, but let's just say that it never got his attention cause no one in the league thought to mention it and the one time he did check it was just regular dude hours.

To the Justice league Danny is the humanist human to ever human.

Which is why they are so confused as to why this small branch of the government (mad scientist parents optional) is so sure he isn't.

[nouns-are-bad]

Soap would love to say that he was good enough at keeping his human form under control, that is, until ghost gets hurt badly on a mission gone wrong.

And everything around soap seemed to die instantly, the grass, the people, anything near him dies with no real cause as he runs to his very human lieutenant to try and save him.

And when soap grabs his lieutenant, simon sees soap for what he truly is, not human, but not a true monster. Simons seen monsters before, and none of them have shown such care and worry towards him as Johnny’s hundreds of captivating eyes do.

[monstersholygrail]

Free Use City Universe

Both arts from: mucknagabe on Twitter

New City, New Life

Chapter One (Hot Neighbor Wolf Hybrid x fem!reader)

Chapter Two (Orc Friend x fem!reader)

Chapter Three (Minotaur Boss x fem!reader)

Chapter Four (Dragon Headhunter x fem!reader)

Chapter Five (Bunny Hybrid Secretary x fem!reader)

Chapter Six (Hot Neighbor Wolf Hybrid x fem!reader)

Fics

Morning Routine (Bunny Secretary x gn!reader)

The Double Tip (Tentacle Monster x Bartender gn!reader)

Special Attention (IT Robot x Fem!reader)

Sugar Daddy! Minotaur Boss Headcanons

Read the Fine Print (Fox Hybrid History Prof x gn!reader)

Aftercare (Bunny Secretary x gn!reader)

Surprise Pregnancy (Bunny Secretary x fem!reader)

Selling of Souls (Demon Guard x fem!reader)

Something New (Drug Lord Deer Hybrid x fem!reader)

Productivity (Bunny Secretary x gn!reader)

Aftercare (IT Robot x Afab!reader)

Lore

Getting a promotion (Monsters x gn!reader)

Relationship Status’ (Monster Husband x fem!reader)

More on FUC relationships (Monster Husband x fem!reader)

Valentine’s Day in FUC (Monsters x gn!reader)

FUC Speed Dating (Monsters x gn!reader)

FUCC Acceptance Rate (Monsters x gn!reader)

Cheating in FUC (Monsters x gn!reader)

Drug Lord Deer Hybrid Concept

IT Robot Lore

Easter in FUC (Bunny Secretary x gn!reader)

Easter Results (Minotaur Boss x gn!reader)

FUC Aquarium Touch Pools (Ray Hybrid x fem!reader)

Characters

Hot Neighbor Wolf Hybrid, Orc Friend, Naga Friend, Wolf Hybrid Friend, Demon Guard, Bunny Secretary, Minotaur Boss, IT Robot, Dragon Headhunter,

[itseghost]

the captured! quest was so funny that i actually drew multiple things at once

[akanemnon]

We didn't even get an answer, and we never will (at least it's not determination)

FIRST - PREVIOUS - NEXT

MASTERPOST (for the full series / FAQ / reference sheets)

[baeshijima]

thoughts on being engaged to duke!sunday, the head of the oak family, an incredibly influential figurehead within society, the close subordinate of emperor gopher wood who brought him and his sister in and raised him like his own, and the villain who faces a tragic ending in a novel you recently finished — the very same one you just so happen to find yourself transmigrated into. he is as cunning as he is blinded, a trait which brought ruin to many in the empire, and one which ultimately brought ruin to himself at the hands of the protagonists.

as luck would have it, you became a barely mentioned side character from a marquis family, whose role was to be the villain's wife stuck in a one-sided love who, too, would get caught up in the tragedy alongside him. however, now that it's you who is stuck in this position, you're determined to try any means necessary to deter him from going down that path, all in an effort to escape your predestined doomed fate!

of course, you didn't expect it to be easy. the day of your arrival in this world was already the night before your wedding, so you had little time to prepare yourself for the nonchalance of your supposed family, how they viewed you as but a means — a tool — to boost their influence and prosperity, the dismissive mannerisms of the household servants, and the absolute beauty of a man you will be married to.

(seriously. the novel descriptions did not do him justice. he was like... like... like he was handcrafted by god himself! and not to mention his sister, robin, was the very epitome of an angel! perhaps you're destined to perish by the god-tier visuals instead...)

to say the least, the wedding ceremony went by quickly. safe to say you didn't spend the night; he was cordial and gentlemanly upon letting you know that he won't do anything until you're ready, that you can take this relationship slow, but somehow you ended up feeling a tad insulted. like, who leaves their newly wedded alone in a big cold bed as they walk out on their own? a sick bastard that's who!

well, whatever. it's not like you need nor want to consummate with him! besides, you have bigger things to worry about — things such as your impending death. and, of course, the only way to stop sunday that you can imagine working is by chipping away at his resolve bit by bit, and opening his eyes to reality.

he is a tragic character, one who cares more about the well-being of penacony and its people than anyone else, but was manipulated into getting his hands dirty in the emperor's stead. you knew this. you sobbed over his story, cursed out the protagonists, and even fought internet randos on novel forums about sunday's motivation and how,

no, he is not just a stupid villain. he is a complex character with flaws and humanity and was cruelly taken advantage of by someone he considered family. he was deceived through the suffering the emperor wanted him to see to make him easily manipulated, creating a rift between him and robin to have that prominent separation. you know what? maybe you're just a !%#@ who can't even #@?"% read properly!

and yet you still find yourself at a loss when faced with the walls he has in place. your initial efforts went as well as it possibly could have; you trying to earnestly help him, while he "kindly" dismisses your offers! well, "kindly" being more condescending since you could read between the lines of his mannerisms and amiable demeanour, but that's fine! you expected this! that just means you have to double down on your sincerity, get through to his heart (somehow), and help him realise humanity isn't as weak as he's led to believe!

you have three years until the novel's plot officially starts, and another year after that until your demise. that's plenty of time to get him to warm up to you!

it was easier said than done, but after your valiant effort and abundance of time put into this relationship, which admittedly you could do with some of that lost time back, you could give yourself a pat on the back with the progress you made! while you definitely could have done without a lot of the headaches, it's safe to say sunday has significantly warmed up to you in comparison to your wedding day. he now willingly eats all his meals with you with some real conversation, takes garden strolls with you in the early evenings, invites you out for dinner at a restaurant at least four times a week, hell he's even joked and laughed with you more frequently! but most importantly, he has begun asking for your opinion before finalising any decisions he is required to make. and he actually listens and considers your side! now, that certainly is the best outcome you could hope for after all this time, and it most definitely will help in your endeavour to save you both from the protagonists!

however, you've noticed he's been more... affectionate? well, at the very least he now willingly holds your hand when in private (not just in moments when you're in the public eye and he has to make sure the family's reputation is spotless), sometimes he will hug you out of the blue ("i just need to... recharge. you have a way of calming me down. i hope you don't mind." ...how could you say no to his supreme god-tier face card? that's just a losing battle you won't even bother fighting against.), oftentimes he opts to just gaze wordlessly at you (robin had mentioned over one of your tea times how it almost appears as though there is no one but you in the world when sunday gazes at you with, in her words, "the eyes of a man so deeply in love!" ...whatever that's supposed to mean...), but a more recent development has been his sudden interest in kissing you; well, more specifically giving you a kiss to the back of your hand or on your forehead — certainly not anywhere near the lips! (besides, he's probably just gotten comfortable with you, enough where he can freely act without judgement. nothing more, nothing less.)

well, either way, development is development! soon enough, the time for the main plot to start has arrived. it of course follows what you remember, from the organised balls to the protagonists meeting to the political aspects of it all. the only difference is sunday's less active involvement in all the schemes and the emperor's ploy. rather, he seems more focused on you and the future of your marriage and even displayed a sudden interest in your practically non-existent relationship with one of the foreign diplomats, aventurine— wait...

"[name]," he calls your name out so sweetly you nearly disregarded it as someone else he was talking to. well, perhaps you would have done had he not suddenly appeared before you, a tight-lipped smile tugging the corners of his lips as he steadily approaches you.

oh. he doesn't seem very happy, if his tense figure is anything to go by. you wonder if one of the nobles grated his nerves a little too much this time?

sunday comes to a halt a step away from you. "i don't like that... gambler being so close to you. it... it brings me a rather unpleasant feeling." there's a slight, trembling pause. not a moment later does he close the gap between you, one knee on the ground as he matches your seated height on the fountain rim, your hands gently enclosed in both of his.

you idly wonder if this is what robin meant by the so-called "eyes of a man so deeply in love" she constantly gushed about, for the way in which he gazes up at you is enough to render you breathless.

"tell me, [name]," he begins once more. there is an underlying desperation woven within his tone, one which has your head spinning and heart thumping wildly as his trembling gaze holds you in place. "tell me, what am i to do with this fervent love and overwhelming adoration i hold for you?"

oh.

...oh.

perhaps your impending doom should be the least of your concerns when you now find yourself in the arms of a clingy husband...

(though, it's safe to say you did, in fact, manage to prevent him from succumbing to his tragic fate! you just gained a loving, yet slight slightly emotionally challenged husband along the way.

well, you can help him work through it; you have the rest of your lives now to figure it out, after all.)

[supdudes95]

The last main part of Honeymoon is out! I will be posting the epilogue shortly, as well as the promo pic for the next story in the series.

Hope you enjoy a lil' kiss <3

[multific]

In the Shadow of the Hunt

Yautja x Reader

Warning: Smut

Summary: Trained to outlast any Predator, you never expected to earn the respect and heart of one.

You were doing fine until something far worse than the Yautja entered the territory.

The creatures were not natural.

Mutations, maybe. Bloodthirsty beasts designed for something else's war.

You heard the Yautja before you saw him, you heard clicks low in the trees, that faint hum of cloaking tech.

At first, he was your death sentence.

Now he was your only chance.

It started with a standoff.

You had your knife drawn, back to the river, as he de-cloaked in a shimmer of light and metal.

Eight feet tall, heavy with muscle, body scarred and worn from a hundred battles. His mandibles clicked as he studied you with a curious expression.

You should have attacked.

Instead, you lowered the knife.

"Common enemy," you said slowly, keeping your voice low, hands spread open. "You can kill me later. But right now we both have bigger problems."

He tilted his head sharply, as if weighing your words. His wrist-blade retracted.

It was the beginning.

You learned to communicate through simple gestures at first.

Pointing. Nodding. Grunts of acknowledgement.

He didn’t speak human languages, but he understood survival, a universal tongue.

You nicknamed him R'thok in your mind, it sounded close to the snarling sound he made when introducing himself.

In turn, he began to call you a series of low clicks that almost sounded affectionate.

When you saved him, dragging his heavy body out of a pit trap, using your last medical kit to seal his bleeding side, everything changed.

He touched your wrist afterwards.

A careful touch. Not demanding and not threatening.

Grateful.

Respected.

At night, you camped near each other.

Not too close but close enough that you could hear his breathing.

He carved strange symbols into the dirt. You answered by sketching your own.

A new language bloomed between you, drawn in sand and mud.

Safe.

Danger.

Hunt.

Stay.

And sometimes he would leave you little offerings, cleaned bones from his kills, scavenged tech scraps, a strange fruit you had never seen before.

His way of caring.

You started smiling more around him.

He noticed.

His mandibles twitched into what you thought might be a grin.

The first time you touched him was after another ambush.

One of the mutated beasts had cornered you.

Its claws had ripped through your shoulder, blood hot down your arm.

R'thok tore it apart with a roar that shook the trees.

You stumbled. He caught you.

Huge clawed hands, shockingly gentle, cupped your body and kept you from falling.

You pressed your forehead against his chest without thinking, panting.

"You… you’re warm," you whispered weakly.

He made a rumbling sound, almost like a purr.

Without words, he hoisted you up, carrying you like you weighed nothing, and set you down in the shelter of a hollowed tree.

When you woke later, the wound was stitched neatly, and R'thok was there. Watching. Guarding.

Yours.

The final fight was brutal.

The leader of the beasts pinned R'thok first.

You had a split-second decision: save yourself, or save him.

You didn’t hesitate.

You drove your knife into the creature’s eye, grabbing a discarded plasma caster and blasting it at point-blank range.

The thing screeched and died.

You turned to R'thok, chest heaving.

He was staring at you in a way he had never before.

Not as prey.

Not as an equal.

As something more.

He leaned down, his clawed hand brushing your cheek. You shivered, not in fear, but at the intensity in his gaze.

When he pressed his forehead gently to yours, you understood: it was a vow.

Among his kind, that meant something deeper than any words.

A bond. A claiming.

Love.

You closed your eyes and pressed back.

Yes.

Months later, after the rescue teams came and went, after you chose to disappear from your old life, you lived among the stars.

In a hidden place where Yautja and humans met in secret.

Where no hunt ruled your days anymore.

Only him.

Your mate.

Your hunter.

Your heart.

The ship thrummed around you, metal walls glowing faintly blue with low light.

You sat on the narrow sleeping platform in R'thok's quarters — if they could even be called that. Everything was raw, functional: weapon racks, a table of trophies, pelts spread across the floor. The air smelled like steel, blood, and something warmer... him.

He stood before you, massive and still. His armour stripped away, leaving only thick, scarred skin that shimmered faintly in the low light.

His golden eyes softened as he looked at you.

You got up slowly, your pulse a wild drumbeat. You barely came up to his chest, but he bowed his head to you, patient, waiting.

Waiting for you to make the move.

You reached up, fingertips brushing the hard line of his jaw. His skin was warm, surprisingly soft over the brutal strength beneath. His mandibles twitched, a low, almost uncertain rumble rising from his chest.

"R'thok," you whispered.

You didn’t need to say more.

The bond between you crackled like a live wire.

With a low groan, he caught your hand and drew it to his mouth. His tusks brushed your knuckles as he breathed you in.

And then, so slowly it made your head spin, he pulled closer.

You felt the heat of him.

His massive hands slid down your sides, claws grazing lightly over your hips, your thighs, as if memorising every inch.

You reached for the woven cords across his chest and tugged.

He growled low, a sound of approval and need, and helped you, stripping the cords away.

He was all muscle and old scars.

A living weapon who had chosen you, knelt for you.

He bent, pressing his forehead against yours again, the sacred gesture of his people, and you swore you could feel his heart hammering as wildly as your own.

Your fingers traced the thick cords of muscle over his shoulders, his chest, sliding lower.

His body shuddered under your touch.

When your hands grazed the hard line of his abdomen, he snarled low, catching you at the waist and lifting you as easily as if you weighed nothing.

You gasped, but he was already carrying you to the furs on the floor, laying you down with impossible tenderness.

Hovering above you, he hesitated.

He brushed your cheek, your throat, your racing pulse.

Are you sure? - his eyes asked.

You answered by grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him down.

The kiss was clumsy at first, Yautja mouths weren’t made for it, but he learned quickly.

Pressing his mandibles against your skin, nipping lightly, tasting you.

His scent wrapped around you, wild, electric, addictive.

Your clothes came off in pieces, discarded into the dark.

When you were finally bare under him, his gaze raked over you with a hunger that was almost reverent.

He touched you like a treasure, each brush of his massive hands making you ache.

He was careful as he explored you.

Mapping every sound you made, every shiver, every sharp intake of breath.

You gasped when his hand slid lower, between your thighs, and he paused, snarling softly in warning, in need. 

Telling you he would go slow.

You wrapped your arms around his thick neck, anchoring yourself to him, and whispered against his ear:

"I'm yours."

He froze.

Then he roared and surged against you.

The first push of his made you cry out, he was so big, you could feel every inch.

But he was gentle, trembling with the effort to hold back. Giving you time to adjust and grow used to him.

You clutched at his shoulders, at the ridges of his back, moaning into his skin.

He rocked into you slowly at first, every movement careful, deliberate. Worshipful.

But soon restraint gave way to need.

His pace quickened, driving deeper, and you met him eagerly, rising to meet each thrust.

It was overwhelming. Consuming.

You felt the bond between you ignite — something ancient, primal — not just physical, but something deeper.

As you shattered beneath him, you felt him follow, his body locking tight against yours with a desperate, broken snarl.

He didn't let go.

Not even after.

He curled himself around you, protective and fierce, his breath hot against your neck.

One massive hand covered your belly. His way of marking you.

You lay there, panting, stroking the side of his face with trembling fingers.

"Yours," you whispered again, kissing the corner of his mandible.

A deep, vibrating purr answered you, the sound of utter devotion.

You closed your eyes, safe for the first time in what felt like a lifetime.

Not hunted.

Not alone.

Chosen.

Loved.

Forever.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/