#and pounced on my feet when I “least expected it”

[ithseem]

So...

My neighbour's cat meowed at me to come outside and play with him before I had breakfast. Bro even pawed at the screen door to get me to come outside. I played with him for like 10-ish minutes before I got hungry

And when I went back inside, he meowed at me again to come outside. I opened the door and bro slipped inside. He didn't stay inside for long before I had to get him out. I just had to play outside with him until his owners came to get him

[webslingingslasher]

IM GLAD YOURE GOOD <333

also whilst we’re here. you know how girls get scary horny right before their periods? like i need to be tied to a tree like a wolf when im ab to get mine JDJDJDJ

peters never had a gf before trouble and the first time it happens he fr thinks he’s in HEAVEN. he doesn’t understand but she’s just on him 24/7 and he’s living for it. but also confused bc he can’t think of what he’s done differently to have u pouncing on him 24/7 but he’s not complaining djdjdnd

BOYFRIEND FRAT!PETER LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOO

-i've literally had this done for like two months but i got scared and let it collect dust. not anymore bby!!!-

for the fourth time today, peter tilted his shoulder towards his face to sniff his shirt. it smells just fine, it's clean cotton. he didn't get a new fabric softener so it couldn't be that, and it's not like he got a new cologne or soap.

peter couldn't place it, but something about him lately has you absolutely feral. especially today, he almost had to peel you away from his skin so he could go to class.

'i missed you so much,' you moved quicker than peter's ever seen, his feet haven't even come to a stop on the pavement before you're kissing him.

it becomes more sensual than he's willing to provide in public.

'it was an hour, trouble. what'd you do, wait for me?' peter meant it in a teasing way, he didn't expect you to nod quickly. 'yes. you're about to open your instagram to thirty messages, i'm so sorry.'

your palms race over his arms, something about him seems ultra soft today. in the least joking way possible, he really does feel like boyfriend material. and he was all yours.

'did you know i love you? like, so much.' he did, but he still loves to have a reminder. 'i love you so much it's uncool.' you've got a glazed look in your eye.

peter knows that look and if he's being honest, he's done nothing to deserve it. the last two days you haven't been able to keep your hands off him.

is this what people mean by the honeymoon phase?

'i love you too, trouble. what's got you so mushy recently?'

puffed cheeks, no regard and absolutely no reason to hold back. 'i just really wanna fuck you.' peter takes a sharp breath, something about you being bold makes his knees weak. it must be his desire to please.

'i would, i really, really would...' with gentle scratches up and down the back of your arm, you know he's setting you up for a no. you whine and pout up at him.

'no! you're not allowed! just say yes, please say yes!'

it's literally tearing him up inside. 'baby, i'm already going to be late for my library session. i also have a chapter meeting tonight.'

'do you really-'

'yes.' there was no way he'd be budging on that one. peter made you know you were number one priority, frat responsibilities sat right under you.

if he was suggesting you'd have to wait until late, or worse, the next day, you'd die.

'what about after the library? before the meeting?'

peter's never seen you so persistent. he really doesn't know what he's done, but he won't complain one bit. he'll be a little crunched for time, but that's no reason to let you down.

'if we use your dorm, yes, i think we can make it work.'

peter’s forced to balance himself, you attacked him with a bear hug and nuzzled into his chest. ‘thank you, thank you, thank you! i’ll tell my roommate right now!’

seconds tick. he’s already late and you’re not moving, keeping him in your grasp while your thumbs fly across your phone to send out a message.

‘trouble, you’re making me late.’ because you’d be offended if he pushed you away.

a finger is held up, ramped texting takes priority. ‘trouble,’ the second you feel yourself pushed to the side you huff up at him. 'don't toss me off to the side like i'm some toy, i'm your girlfriend.'

'you're not a toy, you're just not listening, therefore making me late.'

your arms cross over your chest, 'fine. whatever, go.' peter is nowhere in the wrong, but you're making him feel like he is. if this was before, he could just walk away. but now, he has to pause and address your concerns.

he's still adjusting to boyfriend duties.

'don't get mad with me, i'm being very nice.' he is, he even let you gently bully him into getting him into your room in an hour and a half. you hold your stance, it takes a few seconds, but he catches on.

'you're not mad, you're pouty. don't be pouty, you're gonna see me in an hour.'

a toddler grumble, 'i'm gonna miss you too much.'

peter really doesn't know where the sudden desperation came from, he really needs to check in with you, but if he's any later, he's gonna piss off a whole room of people.

'i'll miss you too, trouble.' it appeases you enough, you finally allow him to pass. peter isn't able to go a full three steps until you tell him to wait, he realizes his mistake.

'sorry, c'mere.' three quick kisses, you make it hard to pull away. 'love you,' he allows you to sneak another kiss. 'love you too, petey.'

—-

one thing you loved about peter was that he was always on time, at least for you he was. just like he promised, he was at your door an hour and a half later with a hand on his stomach.

‘i’m missing dinner for this, i could be having a nice catered meal with the boys, but no, it wasn’t allowed.’

‘that’s very kind of you, handsome.’

‘i just needed to let you know, you know, in case i go lethargic or my stomach starts growling.’

‘as long as you don’t pass out on top of me, gerald’s game scared me.’ peter holds his fingers up in a scouts honor, ‘i promise.’ it’s all it takes, you reach for his shirt, clenching the fabric, you tug him in. shutting the door and slamming him against it, your lips on his in a minute.

peter’s mind is spinning, he’s never been pushed up against a wall. it feels nice, it’s a good feeling to know someone wants him so badly a tinge of aggression comes with it.

your kisses trail over his jawline, you’ve never been so desperately horny in your entire life, something about him has you dialed to ten recently. it could be the impending period, but that just feels like a fraction of the reason.

feeling slightly guilty you’ve ruined his meal plan, you pull back, just for a second to rip his shirt off. when his skin is shown, your hands race over it, he’s toned, and tanned, and down right delicious.

you scatter kisses over his chest, peering up at him. ‘are they saving you a plate?’ peter looks down, he’s lost at your words. you’re asking about plates while worshiping his body?

‘huh?’ a trail of wet marks across his collarbone.

‘dinner. are they saving you a plate?’

how do you expect him to answer while you nibble a bruise on the bottom of his neck? ‘i don’t…’ peter takes a sharp inhale, he never knew he had a sweet spot until you found it. it’s behind his ear, and he has to lean down, just slightly, but it’s so, so worth it.

‘i don’t know, probably not. guys don’t think about stuff like that.’

you pull away with a pop, raising your thumb to brush over the red mark. ‘hold on,’ you turn for your phone abandoned on your bed, on the walk over you take your own shirt off.

it’s a quick text and a quicker response, your guilty conscience cleared. ‘done. ethan said he’ll save you one.’

‘my hero.’

you jump to your bed, shimmying your pants off before sitting up on your knees, you get into position, shaking your hips at your boyfriend before arching slightly.

‘are we thinking doggy?’

peter’s still stuck to the door, ‘you wanna start with doggy? what happened to foreplay?’

you move to your back to tug your underwear off, you were only following his words. ‘you said we would be strapped for time, i’m making it easier.’

‘by blowing past the most important thing and having me jam it into you?’

you narrow your eyes at him, ‘once upon a time you didn’t care about foreplay.’

‘that’s old peter, he’s dead.’

‘let’s revive him.’

peter finally steps away from the door, he feels ten times warmer. his arms move around like he’s trying to clear the air, ‘alright, hold on, we need to talk.’

four words that are forced to put the night on pause, he could wait for a heart to heart after. ‘let’s not.’ you reach for his jeans, he steps out of reach. ‘peter! you were the one that said it would be a time crunch, i’m doing my best here, let’s go.’

‘not until you tell me why you’re so possessive lately. this whole week, you can’t get enough of me. what’s going on?’

peter’s starting to think you have some doubts running through your head and if you have enough of yourself to him he’d stick around. it’s a bogus idea but you’ve done it before to him, maybe it’s worse because there’s more to lose now with the title.

‘i’m horny.’ there wasn’t much else to add. he’s just made you wildly needy this entire week, but peter wasn't buying it. with crossed arms he waited until you really told him what was going on.

you groan, the quicker you explain, the quicker you get what you wanted. 'fine, what do you know about the menstrual cycle?'

'as little as possible.' while he's slightly more knowledgeable than most men his age, everything he's learned has been against his will.

'great. i just got off mine two weeks ago, i'm ovulating, aka, my body wants a baby real bad. not just any baby, your baby, that's why i'm so horny for you.' you hope it's enough to appease him, you shuffle around on the bed.

'fucking in this bed sucks.' there's little room for peter but you did what you could with the space you had. 'also, expect this monthly. cause, it's gonna be your problem now that you're my boyfriend.'

peter breathes deep, 'that has got to be... the best problem i've ever had in my entire life.' peter moves so quickly your head spins, he's on his knees in front of the bed while you're pulled to the edge.

kisses up the inside of your thigh has you pulling at his hair, 'peter, you're gonna be late.' you suck in hair as he nibbles on your skin. 'we don't have time for this.'

it pauses him, peter looks up into your eyes, a cocky smirk forms. 'my girl has a primal urge, and it's my job to take care of it.' 

[midnight-bay-if]

Hey, hey!!😊

Quick ask, what would ROs do if they saw someone hitting Mc? (I feel like I'm going to see the chaos that the ROs are going to create, pure fun 😎)

Bye, bye!!

(Oh, dear... Yep, you'll unleash the beast with an ask such as this. The beast being all of the ROs because all of them are capable of being monsters if pressed, haha.)

S: S watches you from a distance, as they so often do when they are around you. It isn't on purpose. Their eyes are naturally drawn to you when their mind begins to wander. But what they wander to this time is less pleasant. They don't know who it is with you, but it is obvious the conversation isn't going well. Then, they strike you across the face. It happens in moments, but it slows down for S.

In theory, S knows you can handle yourself well enough. The hit was sloppy with little technique; they have seen you take worse. Yet the indignity of it all only makes them feel... angry.

"You do attract some odd sorts, MC," S says, stepping between you and the assailant, arms crossed with muscles flexed. "Now even rodents are vying for your attention."

The stranger steps forward momentarily, blind rage cutting through common sense before reason again takes hold. They weigh their chances against the two of you before quickly scuttling away with their head dipped low.

"I could have handled that, S."

S turns back to you with a soft smile. "I know. That was for me." S reaches out and gently caresses the area that was struck. "Let's find something cold for the swelling. Then you can tell me all about how you managed to anger the pest."

Rain: Rain's been a little distracted by their surroundings. They still have much to learn about the human world, which can be a lot to take in. So, they don't realise they have been gradually wandering further and further away from you; not until they turn around to ask you a question, and you aren't there. They are momentarily confused until they spot you a little away being confronted by someone who looks especially angry.

The man leers into your space before reaching out to slap you across the face. It shocks them. The blatant violence against you is harrowing and difficult to believe despite it staring them right in the face.

Rain sprints to close the distance, setting themselves between you and the attacker with a face of fury reserved for only the worst of creatures.

"Back off. Now."

The man scoffs, clearly not very impressed. "This has nothing to do with you. This is between me and them."

"Wrong." Rain pulls out an official-looking badge that denotes them as a government employee. "I suggest you walk away before this becomes my problem further."

The man tuts, shakes his head, then turns on his heel with a quick step.

"I had that handled, Rain."

Rain sighs. Then turns to you and shrugs. "At least he's gone now. Let's get some ice for that cheek, shall we?"

Taj: Taj has zoned out. Sometimes, they have to do it in public to stop themselves from feeling suffocated by the people around them, which gets them in trouble a lot. S can be whittling away battle plans on the fly and will quiz them once finished, only to find Taj had stopped paying attention about halfway through.

So, it isn't immediately apparent to them that you have begun to draw back. But they do not step too far away before their ears twitch, alerting them to a change in surroundings. They turn back, expecting you to already be rushing to catch up, but instead see you waylaid by a furious man shouting spittle in your face.

Taj is already rushing back in your direction when they see the closed fist contact your cheek. A burning heat engulfs the pit of their stomach, and their vision hazes red as Taj pounces onto your assailant, forcing them to their floor as their fists and claws start going wild.

"How dare you?! You filthy little--"

You have to drag them away. It isn't pretty. The man's face is bleeding from multiple lacerations, terror in his eyes as he crawls to his feet and dashes down the street.

Taj is breathing heavily, their skin burning hotter than usual. They feel tiny lumps of skin collected under their fingernails from where they dug them into the human's face. It was wild, untamed. They want to keep going.

"Taj?"

Taj inhales sharply, closing their eyes as they count to ten in their head. 0ne, two, three...

They feel your hand on their arm and open their eyes again.

"Are you... all right?" Taj finally says. "Are you hurt?" A warm hand encompasses your cheek with much more gentleness than they showed the man.

"We need to go. Now," you command, tugging on their sleeve. "Hopefully S will know how to fix this."

N: It is common for N to fill the silence with the sound of their own voice. They have a lot to say, and their voice is lovely by the way. So, when you are wandering the street, and N is gesturing wildly as they recount the tale of their day, they don't immediately notice you lagging behind. "And that is when I said, 'Nice try. Next time try using your actual legs to--" They stop, eyebrows creased and turn towards you.

The instant they do, a resounding slap fills the space. Your head turns with it, but otherwise, nobody moves. N feels the Hael in them raging. The fire that keeps them tethered unleashes inside them, boiling their blood dangerously.

But they do their best to mask it, hiding behind an insidious grin.

"And who is this delightful individual, MC?" They ask, reaching out to grab the woman's hand before she can pull back, gripping it tightly. "You always make such interesting friends."

Sensing their darkness, you place a placating hand on their shoulder. "It's okay, N. I can handle this."

The woman senses it, too. N may be smiling, but there's no amusement there. She's scared; all previous bravado has wilted to nothing. So, N lets her go.

"Scuttle away now, my dear," they say, waving their hand away as if dismissing a servant. "Before my hand slips."

The woman does as she is bid in record time, and N's smile slowly twists to a snarl. "Wretched cur."

"It's fine. I'm fine. Let's just drop it."

N inhales deeply, the hatred still burning. Then, they firmly plant a smile back on their face. "Of course, my dear. Let us go about our day together, unspoiled. You should probably get that face seen to. We can't allow your perfect features to become marked, can we?"

Strangely enough, you don't bump into the woman again on your usual morning routes. It's almost as if she has vanished entirely from Albach Bay.

Umbra: Umbra spent some time away from you today. They are getting better at it. Their instinct is still to remain close, watchful, a silent sentinel destined to guard you. But they have since learned that it can be unhealthy to have such a strong attachment to a living person—unhealthy for the recipient and harmful for the provider. It's not something they particularly understand, but they want to learn—for you.

But now they are keen to return to your side. It's been two hours, after all. That's more than enough time for something dreadful to have happened. They need to see you. To see you safe.

They round a corner, their face lighting up when their eyes catch you. The other person with you barely gets a second glance. Until that person lifts a hand to you, anyway. Then, Umbra is instilling that face into memory. Within moments, a cloud of black smoke disappears and reappears beside the assailant, a black dagger curled beneath his throat, pressing against the skin.

Black smoke pillows out of Umbra's eyes, the typical whites of their eyes pitch black. Within a breath, a dagger is pressed close to the man's throat, nicking at the skin.

"How dare you?!" The voice is raspy, much lower than Umbra's usual tone, and joined by a myriad of dissonant whispers.

You reach out, grasping Umbra's arm to stop them. "No, Umbra! Don't!"

Your voice cuts through the fog, the black in their eyes returning white as they turn to you. "But this man--"

"Does not deserve to die!"

Umbra feels your anger and disappointment in them. It cuts deeper than any dagger could. But they do not know how to differentiate between those who hurt you and those who should die for it.

Umbra drops the knife from the man's neck, stepping away to let him run. And run, he does. Umbra watches a moment longer, allowing the man to shriek and holler far into the distance.

"We should go. Now. Hopefully S can fix this."

Umbra follows, their dagger arm still itching.

(I may have gotten slightly carried away again. Why do I do this? lol)

[stubz]

Pollix lazed on the beanbag in the reading area. The passing sun shining just so perfectly on the young tighalax. He rolled onto his stomach and kneaded the carpet below when he spotted something or rather someone.

Nova. The ship Captain's daughter and fellow tighalax is currently stalking something.

'It's like watching a newborn cub walking for the first time. She'd be the runt of any tighalax pack in the galaxy.'

Pollix really had nothing against the smaller cub but he just couldn't help himself from teasing and poking fun at her every now and then.

'She's 6 moons older than me but half my size! She's like one of those stuffies we have in the toy bin.' he giggled to himself.

Intrigued by what she was doing he looks to see what her target is.

His ears perk as does his posture.

Kim. One of their human caretakers/teachers. Currently cleaning up some blocks on the ground. Completely unaware of the small feline-like creature.

She pounces. The prey is caught. Sent tumbling to it's side, shrieking with laughter.

A successful hunt shrieks Athea also watching the "hunt".

'A successful hunt? Pfft, I get that they're comrades but how could Athea call that a hunt?' for Nova's hunt was something to be expected of when one was a fresh cub. To celebrate a hunt like this when you were 7 summers old? Unheard of.

But runts do take longer since they're often too weak for some summers to do this type of thing, he concluded.

Still, at their age they should be hunting prey that's much bigger than Kim. Something around Max's size.

"Pollix! I caught Kim, did you see?"

"I saw...you were very quiet. But remember to use what's around you. Like you could have hide behind the bookshelf to get even closer."

"Oh. That's so smart! Thanks Pollix, I'm going to practice on Kim again."

"Mmmm." he curled back onto the bean bag.

"Not impressed?"

"Your blocking the sun Athea," he whined looking up at the orc. "But no not really. I mean Kim is strong I guess but she's a human."

"What. Humans are strong, sometimes stronger than other apex species like us." Pollix scoffs

"Yeah but I knocked her down like a million times when we wrestled! So Nova's probably going to be able to knock her over at least once, or maybe Kim just let her." he finished as an afterthought.

"...Okay so maybe she let Nova knock her over but what if she also let you knock her over?"

<If there's one thing many know about Tighalaxes it's that they are very prideful of their hunts and wins. And to diminish said hunts and wins is to question their skills as a hunter. The fastest and easiest way to tick them off>

The cub puffs his fur and flicks his tail around angrily.

"Nu-uh."

"Yu-huh."

"No. I knocked her over because I'm stronger than her!"

"And so did Nova. So I guess Nova is also strong." she stares at him.

<Now for Orcs, what they're known for is their undying loyalty. Should you belittle or badmouth an Orc's friend within earshot of them be prepared for an argument or a swift blow to the face. Depends on the situation>

The young orc straightens to her full height while keeping her gaze with the tighalax cub. Who in return get's up and rises to his full height as well.

Standing at 5 feet tall both are easily larger than most other youngling species their age. Only 5 inches shy of their teacher Kim.

Only at the age 6.

"Why don't you try to tackle her?"

Startled they stop sizing each other up and turn to the human who managed sneak up on them.

Jasper. A human child their age. Almost a foot smaller than them.

"I do it all the time. It's fun and I get to see how strong I am by how much I can make Kim move!" he exclaims, "One time I managed to make her take a step."

"That could work."

"Huh?"

"If you can tackle Kim then I'll apologize and take it back. If you can't then that means that Nova is strong too."

"Alright. But I'm doing it the proper way. Not when she's crouched down. That'd be too easy."

"Whatever."

..

'A real hunter should rely on their strength and instincts. Not just hiding and sneak attacks.'

He stalks towards Kim who's standing in the middle of the room doing a head count.

He picks up the pace. Her back is still to him.

He's broken into a run now. Normally he should wait till he's closer but he's just trying to tackle her so it's fine. She hears him.

He's at full speed and mere seconds away. Athea will be saying sorry to him very soon. She turns sideways and widens her feet.

He lunges. She's smiling.

To Athea and everyone else watching it was like watching a bouncy ball hit a wall. The cub made impact only to bounce off the human onto the floor.

"OH SHOOT!" Kim picks him and sets him on his back paws. "Are you okay? I'm sorry I didn't think you'd bounce like that."

"..." could she always pick him up that easily?

"You look okay, Pollix are you hurt anywhere?" he shakes his head.

"Well that's good. Sorry about that buddy," she chuckles. "I thought since your a lot bigger than Jasper and Nova that you'd be fine. Here, let me go get you a starburst for the great effort."

"Wow Pollix! You made her actually get ready for it. I never did that. You really are strong." exclaims Nova. Eyes sparkling with awe.

"I, I just bounced off her. Like a bug."

"Yep." Athea pats her friend on the shoulder.

"...Nova you did a great job with your hunt. It was awesome."

"Aw, thanks Pol."

"I wonder if I could tackle her? I am heavier than you."

"Yeah you are pretty fat."

"Fat so I can crush you."

"You two are weird friends." sighs Nova.

[advisorykitty]

can you please make nyen X reader smut or just normal PLEASE I NEED MORE

Provoked

Nyen x Reader

Living in Luther’s house had always been an experience, especially with everyones odd habits and unspoken rules. One of those rules was simple: don’t mess with Nyen ESPECIALLY when he’s working out. But today deciding you had a death wish ,you decided to break that rule.

The day had been frustrating. Luther had sent you on another errand, and by the time you got back, your patience was wearing thin. You walked into the living room, groceries in hand, and spotted Nyen in the middle of his workout. He was dressed in his black tank .His body moving with precise, almost mechanical, discipline as he knocked out push-ups with ease.

It wasn’t just the sight of Nyen that irritated you—it was everything. The way he ignored everyone unless it suited him, the way he carried himself like he was better than everyone else. He always acted like the world revolved around him, and today, you were done pretending that didn’t bother you.

“Do you ever do anything useful besides work out?” you snapped, tossing the grocery bag onto the counter with more force than necessary. The clattering sound of cans and boxes echoed through the room.

Nyen didn’t respond at first. He paused in mid-push-up, holding the position without breaking a sweat, and turned his head just slightly to glance at you. His expression was impassive, unreadable, as if asking you to repeat yourself but something in his eyes told you that he was already annoyed, guilt was the last thing on your mind.

“Maybe if you spent as much time helping out as you do flexing in the mirror and admiring your lazy ass self, you’d actually contribute something around here,” you added, the irritation clear in your voice.

Slowly, Nyen pushed himself to his feet. His movements were fluid, almost too controlled, like a predator that was deciding whether or not to pounce. He turned to face you fully, his eyes narrowing as they locked onto yours. “What the fuck did you just say?”

YEESH you had definitely fucked up but there was definitely no turning back now!!!

The venom in his tone made you hesitate for a split second, but you had already made a point and you weren't going down. Irritation overpowered your better judgment. “I said, maybe if you weren’t so obsessed with looking tough, you’d actually be useful. But no, you’re just Luther’s overgrown pet who spends more time showing off than doing anything important.”

Nyen’s expression darkened, his face twisting into a snarl. “You’ve got some fucking nerve talking to me like that. You’re just a weak little human who can’t even handle a simple errand without whining.”

“Oh, I’m weak?” you shot back, stepping closer, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and adrenaline. “At least I don’t fucking kill things for fun and find pleasure in it. Fucking weirdo. Actually, do you think that makes you strong? It just makes you a psychopathic sadist.”

Nyen’s eyes flashed with anger. “Better a psychopath than a pathetic, mouthy piece of shit who doesn’t know when to shut the fuck up.” His voice was a low growl now, filled with barely restrained fury.

The insult hit harder than you expected, and for a moment, you considered backing down. But you werent a pussy so hell nah! You're already pissed from being everyones dormat and you were tired of being talked down to, especially tired of the constant tension. “At least I have a mind of my own,” you said, your voice rising. “You’re nothing but Luther’s attack dog. Without him, you’re just a lonely, aggrovated bitch who has nothing else going for him.”

For a split second, the room was dead silent. Then, Nyen exploded.

“You little shit!” he roared, his voice shaking with rage. Before you could react, Nyen grabbed the edge of the table and flipped it over with a furious snarl, sending groceries and utensils flying across the room. The sudden violence sent a shockwave of fear through you, but it was too late to turn back now.

Yeah you're definitely fucked.

His eyes were fixed on you, and for the first time, you truly realized the danger you were in.

“You think you can talk to me like that and get away with it?” Nyen hissed, taking a menacing step towards you. His hands were clenched into fists, and you could see the muscles in his arms tensing as if he was ready to strike. “You fucking idiot, I’ll tear you apart!”

Panic set in, and without thinking, you turned and bolted. You could hear Nyen’s footsteps pounding after you, fast and relentless. Your heart was racing, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you ran through the hallway, what the FUCK where you thinking?????This is Nyen where taking about and did you mention he works out everday????!!!

You desperately tryed to find a way out. But deep down, you knew you were trapped—Luther, Randal, and Sebastian had gone grocery shopping, leaving you alone in the house with Nyen and Nyon. (Plus kitty and Nana)

There was no one coming to help you.

You burst into the kitchen, and Nyon almost jumped as you guys came crashing in, his eyes opened wider as he looked down from the fridge where he occasionally liked to nap.

Your hands shaking as you grabbed a frying pan from the counter. Nyen was right behind you, his eyes filled with a terrifying mix of fury and sadistic glee. “Running won’t save you,” he taunted, his voice laced with a cruel edge. “You’re fucking dead, you know that?”

“Stay the hell away from me!” you shouted, swinging the pan wildly in his direction. But Nyen was too fast—he ducked under the swing with a snarl, his eyes never leaving yours. The frying pan clattered to the floor, and you scrambled back, trying to put as much distance between you and him as possible.

Nyen straightened up, a mocking grin spreading across his face. “Pathetic,” he spat, slowly advancing on you. “Is that all you’ve got? You really thought you could take me on? You’re even dumber than you look.”

Desperation gripped you as you backed up against the wall, your mind racing for a way out. But there was no escape—Nyen had you cornered, and he knew it.

With deliberate, almost leisurely movements, Nyen reached into his waistband and pulled out a knife. The blade gleamed wickedly in the dim kitchen light, and your blood ran cold. “I'll love seeing you fucking squirm,” Nyen said, his voice dripping with sadism.

You tried to dodge as Nyen lunged at you, but he was too fast. The knife slashed across your arm, leaving a stinging cut that sent a wave of pain shooting through you. You cried out, and it hurt like SHIT.

Clutching your bleeding arm as you stumbled backwards, the fear now fully consuming you as the reality of the situation dawning on you.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Nyen sneered, advancing on you with deadly intent. “That’s just a taste of what’s coming, you fucking asshole. I’m going to enjoy every second of this.”

You grabbed a chair, swinging it in his direction with all the strength you had left, but Nyen easily sidestepped the attack quite literally insulting you because you put a lot of force into that.

He was toying with you, drawing out the moment, savoring your fear. “Come on,” he taunted, his voice low and menacing. “Fight back. Or are you just going to stand there and let me carve you up?”

You tried to swing the chair again, but Nyen was too quick. He grabbed the chair out of your hands and threw it aside with a snarl. “Pathetic,” he repeated, his voice filled with contempt. “You’re nothing. Just a weak, scared little human who doesn’t know when to shut up and admit their place.”

He grabbed you by the collar and slammed you against the wall, his face inches from yours. “Any last words?” he growled, his breath hot against your skin.

Fear paralyzed you. You could barely think, let alone come up with something to say. But before Nyen could strike, a sudden noise echoed through the house—the faint sound of a door creaking open, followed by footsteps.

Somehow, while you and Nyen were busy fighting , Nyon had managed to get Luther to intervene. Luther stood beside Nyon. Luther looked at you both in the rather unflattering position you were in, his mouth set to a line. Luther hummed, which made Nyen roughly let you go.

“Fucking pest,” he muttered under his breath, before turning his attention back to you and making sure Luther had left the room.

“Looks like you got lucky. But next time…” He pressed the knife against your throat just enough for you to feel its cold edge. “*There won’t be a next time.*”

With a final shove, he let you go, sending you sprawling to the floor. Nyen glared down at you one last time, his eyes filled with unspoken threats. Then, with a snarl of frustration, he turned and stormed out of the kitchen, leaving you trembling and shaken on the floor.

As the sound of his footsteps faded, you slumped against the wall, your breath coming in ragged gasps. The cut on your arm throbbed painfully and you tried your absolute best not to start crying.

You sat there for a long time, trying to calm your racing heart and still your shaking hands. The house felt eerily silent, the earlier tension hanging in the air. Nyen had shown you a side of him one that you hoped you’d never see again..

When you finally gathered the strength to stand, you ran into Nyon who you figured (despite the language barrier) try to patch you up.

You spent the rest of the night replaying the events of today and a smile tugged on your lips.

You were definitely going to abuse the fact that Nyen was so submissive when Luther was around.

Part 2 will be out soon! Mb smut if u guys want ^_^

[vmbrq]

(about your ovulation / ethan landry post)

YES PLEASE YES YES YES

-

this is SO TMI but last night i was basically crawling up the walls with how horny i was for ethan landry, and i was so fucking confused. checked my app: i’m ovulating. makes sense.

BUT YES LIKE ethan wouldn’t understand why you’re so touchy all of a sudden, not that you’re not touchy but it was amped by like, 100. and then it dawns on him and he’s like “oh. 🤔 oh 🤭😏” like he has never seen you so feral for him before, and it turns him on so much to know you want him so bad. bonus points if you cry while you’re riding him because he feels so good and you’re so horny for him.

i’m dead died dead

i know it's been a minute since i made that post, BUT MY FEELINGS STILL STAND AND YOU'RE SO CORRECT. and whenever i'm ovulating, i feel like a werewolf chained to a tree during the full moon, so you're so real for that.

your behavior would be different--not intrusive or unwanted, just different.

but, he doesn't comment on it when you ambush him from behind while he's talking with chad, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your face into his back to take a deep inhale of laundry detergent, aftershave, and something distinctly ethan. you'll take every available opportunity to have at least one hand somewhere on his body in public, whether you're casually rubbing your palm over his back or hooking an arm around his to keep him close or linking your pinky with his. you steal kisses off him whenever you can. you're more forward about wanting his attention, even if you don't always outright say it.

while he certainly isn't complaining, he just doesn't quite understand where the onslaught of affection came from. sure, you love him, and you very rarely shy away from demonstrating it, but this exceeds what he's used to. throughout the day, he remains blissfully unaware, never knowing that you're a solid four seconds away from popping the button on his jeans and taking what you need. the shifting of his jaw and the concentrated furrow of his brow as he works through difficult homework questions, the defined sculpt of his arms in short-sleeve button-down, the earnest adoration reflected in his big, dark eyes as he listened to you speak--everything about him just looked so good.

how could you be expected to keep yourself in line?

he would refrain from inquiring until you two are in the privacy of one of your rooms, not wanting to embarrass you or put you on the spot in front of other people. but even then, he doesn't get much of a chance, because as soon as he shrugs off his backpack and turns around, you pounce, nearly causing him to trip over his own feet as you push him back onto the bed and climb atop him.

he's surprised, rightfully so. but you kiss him, and he's more than willing to let you. but his hands flutter tentatively around your waist as he tries to ground himself and sort through his thoughts. it feels as if his world has been flipped upside down. he simply thought you were being affectionate. was he wrong? were you trying to signal to him and he just never noticed? is there something going on?

"hey," he interjects when you finally break the kiss. his chest rises and falls beneath your hands as he pulls for oxygen, the collar of his blue shirt rumpled from where you'd drawn him closer, his eyes dazed and searching yours for an explanation. "hey, are you--are we..?" you shouldn't mistake his pause for rejection, he just wants to understand. he's rarely seen you this desperate for him before.

and when he finally does? when you, just as disheveled and breathless as he is, whine that you need him--that you need him so fucking badly, all it takes is a couple moments of consideration before he realizes what's happening with you. he swallows as the pieces of the situation click into place. fuck. you're ovulating. suddenly, your earlier behavior makes sense. your desire for his attention, your craving for touch, your insistence on being pressed as close as possible to him on the subway back to your apartment--you must have been feeling the full weight of its effects all day. and now that you have him beyond the view of the public eye, you can't wait any longer.

a hushed, broken moan of his name as you impatiently grind down on him is all that's needed to stir into creation a fire in the pit of his stomach. you want him--no, you need him. you need him. he can already feel his cock beginning to stiffen against your thigh, and the tip of his tongue flickers over his bottom lip. his gaze scans your expression once more, and his breathing grows shallower when he finally identifies that distinct glimmer in your eyes as sheer desperation and need.

at this point, he's certain nothing will be able to deter him from having you.

"how badly?" he pants. it's paired with a slight, teasing upturn of the corners of his lips, just testing the waters to see how you'll react. to see how deeply your desire runs.

he gets his answer when you, in a fit of irritation at his lack of urgency, draw him into another searing kiss that he returns in full. he gets his answer when you swat his hands away from your waist when he attempts to ease you down on his cock, your own pace much more reckless as you sink down on him without giving either of you a moment to adjust. he gets his answer when you pin his wrists down to the mattress, using them as leverage while you fuck yourself stupid on his cock. you treat him as if he were nothing but a toy for you to maneuver and utilize for your own pleasure, relentlessly pursuing orgasm after orgasm even as your thighs tremble and tears of bliss pool along your lash line.

for a moment, he wonders if you're too drunk on pleasure to speak properly. but your hands move from his wrists to his strong shoulders, and you dig your nails into his skin as you begin to babble mindlessly. "feels s' good. more, i ne--i can't--" you hiccup, a single teardrop slicing through the layer of perspiration blanketing your cheek. "need you to cum," you mumble. "want it inside."

"you sure?" he pants, eyes wide. "we've never--"

"ethan!" you complain petulantly.

shit. his hands, now freed and granted permission, move to grip your waist firmly. a squeal is punched from your throat when he meets your descent with a sharp, upward thrust of his hips, burying himself as deep inside you as possible.

he grins. fine by him.

[kithtaehyung]

[ 3tanfall ] ok so i posted this in the cul de sac but it's also gonna live on the blog too bc!! it's part of 3tanotes and i'm way too excited about it :')) so thank you all again and here's the spoiler passage!

A gentle autumn breeze wraps around your shoulders as you wait. Leaves traverse the concrete at your shoes, and you feel at peace while the sun starts to set. 

How long have you been standing here? Surely Yoongi would’ve responded or at least texted you by now. 

Knocking again, you pull out your phone to call him, noticing that the water bowl next to your feet is empty but the food bowl still has some spare scraps. With your free hand, you scoop up the empty container. 

Where is he? You know he’s home so—

The door opens while your phone still rings, so you’re staring back at a pair of glasses in shock. Probably not how he expected to see you. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” Yoongi responds, blinking at the bowl in your hand. “Oh, was that empty?” 

“Mmhmm.” While you step inside, you quietly swoon at the way he slips your bag from your shoulder, laughing at his sudden set of questions.

“What the—? What the hell’s in here?” 

You throw an explanation over your side on the way to the kitchen. “A surprise!” 

Thumps hit his counter as he exerts effort. “Goddamn. You moving in?” 

“You wish!” If this man says that one more time, you're packing your bags. Only hypothetically, of course. Because there's no way he means it right now.

Your sad grin’s light bounces off the sink at an angle. “Just got some things at the store and didn’t wanna use bags.” 

When a hand braces the counter next to your waist, your mood instantly blooms. A hint of shyness will linger as always, but it’s paired with beautiful familiarity. Truly a welcome change in this new chapter, new season with him. 

Yoongi’s other hand warms your arm with a light skim. And he doesn’t speak until you’re done with your task of filling the bowl with water,

“You could.” 

Oh. 

Just as the world transforms outside, so does your soul as every pretty and fleeting emotion nestles under your cheeks. When you slowly look Yoongi’s way, you admire his eyelashes as he focuses on the fingers touching your skin. 

“I could,” you whisper back. When he lifts his gaze, your smile spreads. “If you convince me.” 

That damn scrunch of his nose would be enough. But Yoongi sniffs in determination, straightening his posture before folding sleeved arms. “Mm… Sounds tough.” Your hands are still damp when he squints at the ceiling, but that doesn’t stop you from wanting to strangle him when he jokes, 

“And I’m lazy.” 

“Oh, you—!” You laugh along with him as he breaks his facade, which doesn’t prepare you for the way he quickly tugs you in for a stupidly delicious kiss. It’s almost lethal enough for you to drop the bowl completely, but he releases as quickly as he pounced. 

Leaving you with swollen lips and swirls for eyes. 

Gathering what’s left of your sanity, you slowly squeak out, “That’s a… Good start.” 

“Nice.” Yoongi flicks your nose before walking to his room. “After you put that out, come in here. Wanna show you something.” 

“Something? Or something...”

He laughs. “Just hurry up. You’ll see.”  

-

-

a/n: goodbye i've missed them so much and i can't wait to finish this oh my godddd. hope y'all are ready for a whole pile of fluff and steamy goodness lmao

[inv3ga]

How Sleep Token initiates sexy time

+18 MDNI

Vessel

Doesn't set the mood. He is the mood.

You never know what to expect when he pounces. Wrapping a blindfold on you from behind? Dragging you by the neck to the bedroom? Locking a handcuff on the hand you're using to hold the vegetable you're slicing and saying, "now be a good slut and put your other hand behind your back so i can make you scream my name."

II

Watches you like a hawk. Just waiting till you notice the enticing "come hither and I'll give you *at least* three of the most earthshattering orgasms you'll ever have." look in his eye.

It's only a matter of time before you jump his bones after that.

So he waits in your bedroom, sitting at the edge of the bed, wearing that three piece suit he knows you love and says...

"You kept me waiting, love. Be a good bitch and come ride my thigh."

III

When he's in the mood, he most definitely lets you know

Many many many naughty texts.

Ranges from raunchy af desperate pleas to pictures of his hard cock or videos.

"Look at what you do to me, bird. *groan* Look at how hard my cock is for you. It's time you take responsibility and wrapped your mouth around it."

iv

He let's you know right away what he wants and how he wants it

He'll drag you feet first to him until you're straddling him

He grips your hips to an almost painful degree, but that's not even a blip on your radar since all you can feel is the delicious friction between you and his prominent bulge.

"Cocksleeve, you're going to do what you do best: riding my cock. You know what to do, sweetness. There you go. Ease yourself down."

[bornagainmurdock]

to pay the price

author's note: brat tamer matt is insatiable and i'm losing my mind

contents: 18+ ONLY, smut, matt murdock x reader, gender neutral reader, bratty!reader & masochist!reader, impact play, spanking, choking, face slapping, check-in, use of 'pup' & 'pet,' degradation

work count: 1.4k

Matt had had enough of your brattiness. From pouncing on him this morning to wake him up, rearranging the bathroom making it take him 20 extra minutes getting ready, and hiding his left shoe, he had enough.

Matt had attempted to correct you with each bratty decision you made. He was gentle and kind until right now. You had just gotten home from work, and jumped right back into the bratty act: offering to bring him an iced cold glass of tea, but instead bringing him a glass of luke warm water.

You passed him the glass, Matt already able to tell by the temperature of the glass in his hand. He took a sip. His special look of dissappointment spread across his face and then contorted to a bit of anger. Out of everything you could have done, this was the final straw.

"Sit. Now." Matt pointed at the ground in front of him, unwavering.

"No." You stood where you were, rocking back and forth on your feet. You knew you were pushing it. You knew you had pushed it when you brought him the water instead of tea, but you didn't expect that to be the straw that broke the camel's back.

"I'm not asking. I'm telling. Sit." Matt's posture was perfect, his back not touching the back of the couch, arms at his side now and stiff.

You didn't move.

"I'm going to give you one more chance to listen. I've had enough of your bratty attitude today." Matt's body language remained the same: still, composed, and ready to pounce.

It's not like you were bad. You liked listening to Matt. Being Matt's sweet good pup. But perhaps you liked bratting a bit more, at least today you did. Pushing Matt to his limit. Sometimes you chose to psychoanalyze why you were bratty. The answer always being wanting more attention. Today, this time, it was for the rush, you thought.

Matt taking control of you, forcing you to submit under him. Being so fed up with your attitude that he pins you in place and has his way with you until you couldn't take anymore. Maybe you did want attention. No matter, you were already commited to the bit.

"Now, pet." He lifted his hands to his tie, loosening it around his neck, pulling at his collar and then undoing the first two buttons of his dress shirt.

You walked to sit at his feet.

He leaned over your body, your eyes looking up at him. "Good. Now, I think you need to be taug—"

You interrupt by taking his glasses off his face and putting them on your own.

"I'm Matt Murdock. I go to my job and do law. I know the DA. I am cool and hot and everyones in love with me." Your impression was vibrant. Your arms thrown around you to exaggerate your speech.

"That's it." Matt was slow to stand up. He hoovered aboce you still, focus on your body there under him. Matt reached towards your face, you expected to be slapped, or have your hair pulled, but all he did was take his glasses off your face and set them on the arm of the couch.

It was peaceful for a second, until Matt stretched his fingers over your hips, lifting you, and throwing you over his shoulder with a slap to your ass.

"Hmph." You struggled to escape his grip on you, kicking and pulling at his clothes to get some leverage.

He spanked you again and again until you where flinching and gasping with each hint.

"What a dumb bratty pup, hmm? Don't know how to behave. Especially when I've been so kind and gentle with you all day, guiding you to make better decisions, here we are." His voice was even and paced.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I didn't mean it." Your words slurred together through tears, Matt still landing hit after his on your ass.

He eventually made his way to the bedroom, throwing you on top of the conforter and crawling over your body until you were face to face.

"I gave you dozens of chances to be good. Apologize all you want, you deserve what's coming."

You slammed your eyes shut, unable to handle the intensity of Matt above you, entire focus on you and the way you were reacting to his words.

He leaned in closer, and you turned your head to look away, cheek flat against the bed.

Matt gripped your chin with force, realigning your face with his.

"You look at me. Your eyes stay here," he gestured towards his face, "And they do not move or you're going to regret it, you understand?"

You remained in that position for a few seconds before testing your luck again, turning to the opposite side.

Matt's hand snaked around your throat this time, pulsing at the sides with his finger tips. It was dizzying in the best way possible.

"What did I say, brat?"

"Look at you." You were coy, faking a sense of innocence.

"And what did you do?" He was spitting at the consonates with vigor.

"Looked away."

"When are you gonna learn your lesson?" His body was suddenly gone, across on the other side of the room. Matt's breathing still steady.

"I don't know. When are you gonna teach it to me?" You spat in response. It was daring, but abbsolutely worth it after what would come next.

Matt dropped whatever was in his hands onto the floor, when you attempted to look, Matt was above you again holding your chin in his direction.

He clicked his tongue against his teeth, making you wait for it. His own special brand of torture: testing your patience.

And then, when Matt himself couldn't wait any longer. fireworks. His palm contacted your cheek, burning a handprint into your skin there. The pain flushing your face, sending chills down your spin. Glorious. Magnificent. Truly a reward for a brat like you.

He was panting, hand coming down again at your face, reinforcing the bruise that would be formed by tomorrow. He knew his power, how much force to put in for you to enjoy.

"So fucking naughty for me," each thought was articulated with a slap, "My messy brat just wanted attention, hmm? Desparate and pathetic. So needy you couldn't control yourself."

You were breathless, trying to catch up with your lungs and choking on your own spit drowning your lungs. Eyes rolled back and shivering under lids. Almost unreponsive. Your heartrate soared, and Matt coule hear it beat inconsistently, and without any real drive. It was intoxicating, just like the whimpers you spoke into existence every once in a while.

"Fucking pathetic brat." He moved his hand back down to choke you, forcing a whine from you when he finally his the right spot on your neck. "Haven't even kissed you yet and you're already this messy for me."

You were gone and lost in your own head, Matt's name on repeat in your brain but never leaving your mouth. You opened your lips to speak and lost the words.

"Pet? Have anything to say for yourself?" Matt could be brutal and he knew it. He also knew you liked when he was rough with you, physically and verbally.

He also knew that sometimes it was too much, so when you didn't respond a bit of fear entered his radar. He removed his hands from your body and instead listened for your heart and your breathing to pick back up to a regular tempo.

"Hey," His tone was clear and gentle now, careful with each letter, "Color?"

Matt waited patiently. He lowered his body just enough to put some grounding weight onto you, something concrete to cling onto to focus outside of the scene.

It took a minute before the world reappeared around you. Too lost in space when he asked originally.

When you started blinking again, Matt repeated, "Color?"

"Green. Please hit me again."

He waited until you looked more alive before raising his hand to slap your face again.

"Fuck Matt." You whimpered, Matt holding his hand to your cheek to feel the heat radiate off you.

"Think you've learned your lesson now?" He raised an eyebrow at you.

You giggled, "I'm not sure, could probably use some reinforcement."

[phoebepheebsphibs]

Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 5: Species, Genus, Family...

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

Prev || Next

Leo had called the rest of the family into the room once he found Mikey.

The others creep in one by one, Casey and Splinter coming closest to get a good look at Michelangelo. As they get closer, Mikey hunches up under the blankets, a low rumbling noise coming from his throat as he tries to determine whether or not they are enemies.

"Orange?" Splinter whispers. "My son... do you not recognize me?"

Mikey pauses, his eyes wide and softly glowing. He pushes his nose forwards, sniffing. Splinter reaches his hands out for him to get a scent from. After a moment, Mikey chirps. Splinter passed the test.

Mikey glances over at Casey, still unsure how to feel. Casey reaches forwards, trying to let him sniff his hands as well. But Mikey squeaks nervously and retracts his head back into the blankets.

"He doesn't like me," Casey whimpers. "What did I do? Do I scare him?"

"I don't know, dude," Leo sighs. "But don't feel bad. You know Mikey, he'll love you again soon!"

Casey nods as he steps away. As he does, Mikey extends his head out again, looking around the room at the people watching him.

"Why doesn't he seem to recognize us?" Splinter asks.

"I'm not exactly sure," Raph answers. "I think he does recognize us, somehow. He knew me!"

"And he seemed to recognize me and Donnie well enough," Leo chimes in.

"It could be that he couldn't see us clearly."

"Huh?" Leo asks, turning to his twin. "What do you mean? He's blind?"

"No, not blind," Donnie corrects. His shell extends a hand with a flashlight in it, shining it at Mikey's face.

Mikey hisses at the light, squinting slightly and blinking hard. But Donnie's point is made when the group sees Michelangelo's eyes reflect and refract the light.

"Tapetum lucidum," Donnie explains. "It's a layer on the eyes beneath the retina that many animals have. It reflects light. And, as you probably (or at least, hopefully) know, we do not have reflective eyes. Mikey did not have reflective eyes before..."

The room goes silent. Raph begins to fidget.

"So... his vision is weird now?" Leo asks.

"In the most simplistic reply I can offer, yes, Nardo. His vision is weird. But I'd need to see what else this double-mutation has done to him to be positive."

"To the lab, then?" Casey asks.

"To the lab," Donnie nods, taking the blanket off Mikey and flinging it across the room.

Mikey yipes at the loss of warmth and hisses angrily at Dee, who jumps away in fright.

"Come on, Miguel," Leo offers, holding his arms out. "I'll carry you there, if you want."

Mikey glances up and down, then slowly creeps onto his arms. Leo expected him to climb in and let himself be carried bridal style, his legs dangling in his hold and Leo's arms supporting his back. Instead, Leo finds that Mikey wants to perch on his forearm, his tail wrapping around and clinging tightly to him. He places one of his feet on Leo's hand, all the weight gathering there. Leo stumbles for a moment, surprised by the strange positioning, but after a while becomes accustomed to it.

"Ah, okee then, I guess we're good to go?" Leo chuckles dryly, starting to walk out. "You guys coming, or what?"

Leo awkwardly carries his mutated brother out of the room. The others follow suit.

Mikey can't seem to stay still, making it hard for Leo to stay upright and balanced. He walks all along his arms, wriggling across Leo's shoulders and pouncing onto the next available limb as though Leo were a living, breathing jungle-gym.

Raph chuckles and extends his arm out, letting Mikey hop over and crawl all across him. Raphael's center of gravity is more defined, and because he's bigger he can manage Mikey's weight shifting all over him. Leo sighs with relief, though he does seem disappointed that Mikey gave him up for a more advanced jungle-gym...

Once they get to the labs, Mikey seems to go pale. He sees the large computers, all the strange machines and devices. It is dark in here. Very dark. Kind of cold, too.

He chirps, high-pitched squeaks, as he slides down the back of Raph's shell and tries to slink away.

"Now now, Michael, we need to do some examinations," Donnie says, pressing a button on his wrist pad and closing the door.

Mikey yipes nervously, then cowers at the door, whining and scratching to be let out.

Donnie's expression softens and he steps over to him.

"Mikey, I promise that I won't do anything to hurt you. You know that, right?"

He extends a hand to his little brother.

Mikey sniffs it. He tries to smile, a small sheepish grin that wobbles weakly on his face. He whimpers, nuzzling his forehead against Dee's fingers. He tries not to cry.

Donnie reaches forward and pulls him into a hug, lifting him up and carrying him to the table in the center of the room.

Mikey can't stop fidgeting and moving around. He whines and chirps at everything and everyone.

Donnie reaches onto a shelf and pulls out a pair of headphones. He offers them to Mikey, who sniffs them with curiosity. He mews in confusion at them. He probably can't tell what they are if he cannot see them properly...

Donnie places the headphones over Mikey's tympanum. His eyes go wide for a moment, unsure of what is about to happen. Donnie picks his lo-fi playlist for whenever he feels overstimulated. Mikey's eyes go even wider. His face makes the surprised Pikachu expression before he starts to smile, his purrs trying to match the pitch and tone as he hums along, his claws tapping to the beat and rhythm.

"He is successfully distracted," Donnie announces. "I can begin now."

"You scanned him in the tank," Leo reminds him. "What did those say?"

"To be honest, I could only really scan him for a few things, like mystic energy, technologies, structural facts, some odds and ins. These goggles aren't made to find specific medical changes, but they do notice interesting changes."

"Such as?"

"Such as Mikey's mystic powers seem diminished. His bone structure has changed significantly. Oh, and Mikey has added DNA now."

Donatello takes the silence as a sign to go on.

"Again, the goggles couldn't discern much, but from a quick glance, I'd say he was given feline, mammalian, and reptilian DNA. Cat, monkey, and lizard, I'm betting. Among others. I'm scanning him for more intimate details concerning the specific species and genus now."

Leo swallows.

"That's not going to... like, wreck his body, is it?"

Donnie stares at him.

"More than it already has?"

Raphael scowls at Donnie for his poor choice of words.

"I meant like, this mutation won't be a hazard to his health? With so many differing genetics mixed together... isn't that dangerous?"

Donnie's expression falters as he tries to keep his composure.

"I would hope the scientists who did this to him would have enough common sense to make that a priority."

"They wouldn't want their test subjects to not survive, that would be a failed experiment," Casey translates.

"They wouldn't want THIS experiment failing," he says, gesturing to Mikey, who is still obliviously listening to his music. "...If they knew what would happen to them afterwards."

"Meaning, Bootyyyshaker9000 is going to do some light arson later, hmm?" Leo smirks.

"After what they did to Michael? I'd probably take Draxum up on his offer to eradicate a few humans..." Donnie looks up drearily at Casey. "Oh, no offense."

Casey shrugs.

"It's okay. You made a lot of those kinds of jokes in the future..."

"Right... 'jokes'..."

"Can we get back to Mikey, please?" Raph asks. "Is the mutation serious?"

"It's complex, I'll say that much," Donnie says, creating a 3D hologram of Mikey's genetic code. "This is what Mikey's DNA looked like before..."

He grabs the hologram and shows it to everyone. Mikey becomes fascinated by the tangible light in the room, and reaches out to touch it in awe. As he does, Donatello pulls up a separate hologram of his genetic code. It is different in a hundred ways, with extra bits and pieces, the new DNA colour-coded to better show off the ways it does not belong.

"...And this is what it looks like now..."

The group watch in fearful astonishment as Donnie begins to explain...

"See here, the scans show that Mikey has jaguar markers, now," he says, noting the dark blue marks on his DNA. "So there's the feline in him..."

"That explains the speed," Casey notes.

Splinter huffs as he stretches to crack his back.

"And the eyes too, I'll bet," Raph adds.

"See, there --" Donnie points to a series of yellow, red, and orange markers on the hologram, "-- That's baboon, mandrill, and proboscis monkey DNA. Baboons are aggressive animals, though mandrills are considered dangerous primarily due to their sharp canine teeth, which -- fun fact -- are bigger than a lion's!"

"That explains the teeth," Leo notes.

"And the aggression during the fight," Raph adds.

"But I find the addition of the proboscis fascinating!" Donnie interjects. "You see, they are a peaceful species! A tribal species of monkey, that do not attack unless provoked. My theory is that whoever did this to Mikey might have put that in to ensure Mikey's cooperation, or to balance out the predatorial animal tendencies, or maybe --"

"Can we move on?" Raph asks, getting uncomfortable with the subject of Mikey's mutation choices and why certain criteria were chosen.

"Oh. Sure. Fine. Well, this green bit here --" Donnie says, pointing to the next part, "this is boa constrictor Dna. And the teal marker next to it is plumed basilisk."

"Isn't that Jesus lizard?" Leo asks.

"I'm honestly surprised you retained that information, Leon," Donnie scoffs. "But yes. The Jesus lizard. Well done."

"What's that pink one?" Raph asks, pointing.

The five (minus Mikey of course) lean in closer to look at the markers. They are the most prominent, the most noticeable, the most numerous.

"That one stumps me," Donnie admits. "Oddly enough, it seems to act as a catalyst to the double-mutation, keeping the mixed genes from collapsing or overriding one another. It almost acts like a genetic glue to hold it all together... though, it does have genetic coding of its own, which means it isn't a formula that they made, but the DNA of some unknown species. The computer saw it and knew to mark it as a foreign DNA, and even to mark it as a dangerous one, but it couldn't identify what species it was."

"Wait a sec, what's that mean?" Raph peers closer. "The computer don't know what it is?"

"But then how did it know to identify it as dangerous?" Leo questions.

"That's what is so intriguing to me," Donnie notes, as he jumps into a rolling chair and wheels over to a computer on the other side of the room. "I must have made an identification of the DNA markers once before, but failed to properly note what it belonged to."

"Why not?"

"I was probably busy," he sighed. "Or just forgot."

"That doesn't sound like you," Splinter says as he walks over to his purple-clad son to watch him as he types.

"No, Papa, it does not. So I'm checking to see when I input that identification into the system, it will give me a clearer understanding of what it belongs to, and what dear Michael has been turned into..."

As Donnie types, Casey glances back at the foreign DNA sequence, studying the genetic codex and symbols. His jaw drops, his eyes abruptly go wide.

"Oh no..."

"What?" Raph whimpers. "What is it?"

"I know that look," Leo groans. "You know what he's been mutated with."

"I think so."

"...Wait, so if Casey recognizes that DNA, then...?" Donnie swallows hard.

"Yup," Leo says, his expression shifting uncomfortably. "It's exactly what we think."

"How can you be sure?"

"Remember on the comms, I mentioned that I found something in the basement of those TCRI labs?" Leo sighs. "Well, I found a sublevel that had immense amounts of security, but nothing that prohibited mystic portals. So I went in, and the deeper I went, the spookier it got. They had tubes full of weird ooze and odd glowing gunk, and in the very center of it all, I found... her."

Leo shivers at the mention. Raph looks like he's about to burst into tears. Donnie looks like he might throw up.

"They had her prisoner there. But I'm not sure you could call her a prisoner, maybe more like a corpse at this point. I'm pretty sure they were harvesting her for parts, stripping her of everything and using them in... their... experiments..."

All eyes go wide. All faces turn ashen. All heads turn to Mikey.

"It was the krang sister. Mikey's been mutated with krang DNA."

Prev || Next

[tokoyamiaddiction]

Sick sense of two | MHA reader insert

Venom! Reader

Genre; Angst, Action

Pairing; A little bit of Todoroki x reader

Sypnosis; A weakened Reader, who was abducted alongside Bakugou in the training camp, is amidst a battle between the heroes and villains, trying to prevent the villains from taking them and Bakugou back into their stronghold.

Warning(s); Slight mention of blood, mentally distressed reader

Context; The Reader has a venom quirk, a symbiote that interacts with them, heals wounds, fights, can control their body, can shoot out tendrils, but needs a specific substance only found in brains and chocolate to function, or else he resorts to feasting on Reader's organs. This takes place in the training camp arc when All might was fighting All for one and Bakugou was trying to escape the league.

I wrote this exactly a year ago..

So basically I wrote this based on a Wattpad fic called 'Symbiote' (I'm pretty sure it got deleted), I really liked the fic but I didn't like this part so I changed it (for myself). I never planned on posting this anywhere but I'm bored haha. I don't expect many people to read this but oh well, I wanna see how active the MHA community still is on tumblr...

FIRST PERSON P.O.V

"All Might is holding back...!" I hiss, my voice laced with hurt and agony. Agony from the horror of knowing why the mighty hero who had come to our rescue, the number one savior in Japan, the ultimate power and symbol of peace, was being absolutely demolished by this savage villain with a mask that hid his harrowing disfiguration.

"Because we're here, he can't risk hurting us," Bakugou said as if completing my sentence. I could hear the uneasiness in his voice, and as I was about to turn to look at him, my attention was hurled away when Toga, the blonde schoolgirl, lunged in our direction with her knife.

The grip around the wooden plank in my clutch tightened as I jumped away from her reach, just in time for bakugou to throw a small explosion in her wake, preventing her from stepping closer and propelling bakugou back to widen the gap between them.

My being tensed when I heard someone's footsteps quickly rush in my direction from behind me. I quickly turned around to find the green lizard man only an inch away from me, his hands outstretched with clear intentions to tackle me. I crouched and recklessly jumped under and past him, my balance betraying me.

I grunted as I fell to my side, but I hurridly propped myself up and slammed my makeshift weapon into the side of the green villain's knee. He yelled in pain and doubled over. I took the chance to shuffle to my feet and scurry to bakugous side.

Our backs are pushed against each other, our heaving in sync. I chew the inside of my cheek whilst I try to ignore the aching in my bones, the pounding against my ears, and the burning of my blistered palms, all while the ringing in my ears sounds louder.

"We can't keep dodging them like caged rats!" I yell, raising my voice in order for bakugou to hear me amongst all the commotion.

"I'M NOT FUCKING STUPID, PARASITE FREAK! I KNOW THAT!!" He snapped his head in my direction, veins bulging from his neck. My eyebrow twitched as I looked back at him.

"Well yeah- we need to find a way out of here, or move this fight somewhere else. At least for all mights sake or in the hopes of the heroes-" My words are cut short when Bakugou hastily yanks me by the neck of my sweater and pounces back using his explosions to move us away from more attacking villains.

"QUIT STATING THE OBVIOUS AND GIVE US ACTUAL IDEAS!!" He yells in my ear as we land, my legs barely holding me up. I grimace at his loud voice then scowl in annoyance. My gaze moved from Bakugou to Compress who was charging at us with his hand outstretched. I was quick to react and through the girthy wooden log at him, my aim precise and my swing strong— the echoing 'crack!-' sounding after the log had collided with his mask serving as evidence.

Bakugou whipped his head around but I swiftly grabbed the collar of his shirt to refocus his attention back to me.

"Make an explosion- a BIG one, one that'll sprain your wrists- at shigaraki's direction. I'll use venom and quickly get us out of here, but we'll have to make a stop at the grocery store right after- before venom's done chewing down on my kidneys!" I announce, a stern, and exhausted, look piercing my face "Ok??!"

Bakugou gazes at me for a moment or two, his brows knitting as usual, with one raised slightly higher than the other. He looked as if he was considering my words, or perhaps calculating them? Then his eyebrows sat back on the same level, dropping closer together in a deep scowl.

"No."

"WHAT?!"

He pushes me aside and I stumble a little, he then throws an explosion at one of the villains that I could only assume was rushing towards us, obviously. He brought his palms together and made an explosion that launched him back, over shigaraki. He threw another explosion, closer to the blue-haired male which sent him tumbling to the side, making a path for me.

I run to his side.

"It's not going to work, and you're going to die. I can tell that you're barely holding yourself together trying to use the least amount of energy so your alien quirk doesn't start chowing down on you."

Another explosion goes off, and another villain is sent back.

"I can see your arm. Even when you were knocked out cold the black thing was covering it cause it was injured. You clearly have nothing left." He concludes, not meeting my gaze. My mouth falls agape then my teeth clenched in frustration.

"I'm saving my energy for the finale!" I retort, grabbing a mid-sized stone for defense. I hear my classmate's gruff voice scoff.

" 'finale', please, stop shitting yourself. I'll tell you what'll happen if we go with your plan, Your quirk'll turn on you halfway through and you'll die and we would have accomplished nothing. Or, we'll get out, then you'll STILL die because WHAT STORES ARE GOING TO BE OPEN NOW!?"

"STOP SAYING I'LL DIE-" We dodge another attack.

"We keep dodging until we wear them down, then we'll find an opening. And stay on your feet, dammit." He says and I get up from my crouching position. I turn to him with a mix of a jarred and frustrated expression on my features.

"Wear THEM down?? Pompom, they're not the ones with a goo-ey mass of garbage about to maul them from THE INSIDE OUT-" My exaggerated gestures pause when a large ramp of... ice suddenly materializes a distance away from the battlefield. The air suddenly stills as we all turn to the gigantic crystal, startled. The shock lingering in the air is only doubled once I see a figure slide on top of the icy surface before it's flung across the air.

The figures glide above ground in the sky, the sky filled with smoke and concrete residue and dust, but in spite of it all, they resembled a shooting star. A shimmer of hope shining amidst the devestation and choas.

And my eyes are wide. Wide with confusion and scenarios and hopes, the warmth of the hopeful star envelops me, And I squint,

But I don't know what hit me until another force does.

An explosion, an explosion from right beside, a large explosion, an explosion strong enough to strain his wrists. Bakugou's explosion.

I'm warm then I'm hot then it's burning and I'm grimacing and flying and falling and I tumble and my sides hurt, but god my face, my face burns from the-

The explosion.

My breath hitches, and I force my hot face up from the ground. I stare at them. I stare at Midoriya, Iida, Kirishima, Bakugou. I stare at them in dread. I can barely make them out as they fly across the sky. Fly further and further away from me. It's like the warmth I had only felt a second ago was ripped cruelly out of my chest. blood drains from my face. I feel cold now, and I realize how cold it is and how cold I am. My hands are quivering under my weight as they press against the floor, stones, and pebbles jabbing into my rusted palms.

I'm feeling too much and I don't want to feel anymore, I feel betrayal and sadness and hopelessness and worthlessness and anger.

I don't want to feel anymore

I really don't want to feel anymore

"[Name]! Focus! Run!"

Venom  is the one who snaps me out of my stooper, despite running out of energy and saving what he could so he doesn't have to resort to his instincts. The tiniest amount of dread is lifted off my chest when I hear his voice, it reminds me that I'm not yet alone. That if I die I can choose to die by him rather than those lowlife bottom feeders. And in the sickest way that gives me more comfort than deemed ordinary.

I blink a few times and regain my focus, while the league is distracted with my classmates and fussing over Bakugou, I shuffle to my knees, wincing at the stinging in my arm.

"Venom" I whisper.

"I can't. If I do anything I'll kill you."

My eyes screwed shut for a few seconds. 'Bakgou was right'

"They abandoned you." Compress looms over me, his mouth visible while his broken mask covers his eyes. I jolt and my eyes dilate. "They left you here to rot."

My throat goes dry and my lips purse together, sweat beading down my face. I'm speechless. And I'm ashamed. Ashamed of how I'm believing- agreeing, with his words.

"I have to say, that was quite the heartbreaking display. The way your eyes lingered on them as they swept away, almost unaffected by your doom. The longing behind your eyes... I felt my heart tremble a bit at your expense." He lifted his hat from atop his head and pressed it against his chest, a melodramatic gesture. " I might be a villain, but I'm not completely void of any emotions."

My mind is quick to start making excuses for my friends, 'they couldn't have known', 'they must've thought I could still use venom', 'they expected Bakugou to take me with him'

"My, your face is tattered with burns... not only did Bakugou leave you without a second thought, he also injured you, knowing that you're quite sensitive to fire. It's as if he intended to hurt you" He continues, his voice more sinister, more hypnotizing.

My face scrunches up and my knees grow weaker and my stance is feeble. The hurt and the pain and the anger and the Realisation is all building up once again, and I can feel myself cracking under it all. Under all the pressure, under all the emotions.

"You know nothing...!" I hiss, glowering at his form. He heaves out a soft sigh of defeat. He places his hat back a top of his head and hums.

"Perhaps you're right,I don't know much about you, or your friends. But from what I've seen, you seem... unwanted, by them at the very least." He says it so casually, and I know his play of words is nothing but a ploy to break me. And my does it work.

It's like a bucket of cold water was dunked over my head. That was exactly it, that was the word that summed up the tens of hundreds of emotions I was feeling all at once. I felt so unwanted, so unimportant. Something you could so easily discard without a second glance. I'm colder and my heart starts to hurt, and all the exhaustion and pain in my body is starting to win as I start to buckle under it all.

There is nothing else I can possibly do, if I stay here and fight, All might will be held back, and there is no doubt that I'll be captured either way, and there is no way for me to escape. I'm helpless.

I'm still glaring at Compress, and I know he sees it. I know he sees it all. I know he sees the way my brows are drawn inwards, and how my irises quiver, and how my jaw is clamped so tightly against itself, and how my face is twisted with anguish. And he can see defeat creep up my back.

He can see me give up. He sees my face finally scrunch up and my eyes shut in defeat. He sees my figure loosen, he sees me slide on my knees and sit, my back slouched and my head down. I'm defeated. I feel humiliated that I let them win. That I'm letting them win.

The pain is worse, the pounding is stronger, the ringing is louder, the prickling in my palms and knees and the stinging burns littering the side of my face and the tightening in my muscles and the rattling of my bones and I'm so cold I fear my hands and feet might start to lose all sensation in them.

My expression tightens as I practically feel Compress's relief and the grin stretching across his face.

A click, a second click, then a boom, and it's an explosion. A small one, but it still manages to make me gasp and jump back onto my hinde. My heart is hammering against my chest again and I'm no longer composed, not the way i was composed when I was dodging attacks from the villains just a few minutes earlier. For whatever reason I'm panicked, I'm petrified, and I'm so incredibly tired. Tired from another devastation occurring one after another. Compress yells something I don't catch, and then I suddenly can't see him anymore as thick, pink smoke surrounds me. I'm breathing heavily and my head's swerving in every direction, my pupils darting at every movement.

A hand appears from within the smoke and grabs my arm, yanking me to my feet and running, pulling me with it. They say something but my head tunes it out. Their voice is familiar, but I'm in too much of a daze to match the voice to the individual. I can't see anything as we zoom away through the smoke, I can barely make out the back of their head.

Am I being saved? Who's saving me? Is it a hero?

My knees start to weaken involuntarily, and now I'm being dragged more than I'm being escorted. My savior realizes this and stops running for a split second. He's a man. I can tell from his build. He sweeps me from the back of my knees and cautiously throws me over his shoulder.

"I'm sorry" He utters. Then he continues to sprint away. I don't understand the apology, and I don't bother to, because relief is all I feel at that very moment, and I feel so much stress and paranoia and panic seep from my muscles. Then my eyes are heavy, they're really heavy and I'm so tired.

"NO! [NAME]! STAY AWAKE! [NAME]!"

I hear my slow breathing against my ear, my chest rising and falling against the man's shoulder, and I'm slumping forward.

My gaze falls on the person's hair, it's grey.

My eyes are closed and everything aches.

I'm so cold.

___________

I'm so warm

My hands are really warm. They're hot. But the good kind of hot.

Something is on my face. It stings.

My eyes flutter open. I blink a few times trying to make out my surroundings. A low rumble echoes through my chest then I hiss as I feel something cold press against the burnt side of my face. I weakly attempt to shoo the thing away but something is grabbing my hands.

"[Name]? [Name] Are you awake!?" A voice speaks. That same voice. My eyes are blown wide and my heart begins to beat so furiously I can hear it roar in my ears. My back straightens against the ragged wall and I'm about to jump up, push, pull, hit, run, anything my mind deems necessary enough to protect me. But I pause when I make out the figure sitting before me.

"Shoto-?" My voice is barely above a whisper. His eyes are slightly wide, I'm not sure if it's because he's panicked or he was simply startled by my reaction. He nods.

"Yeah, I got you out of there." He says, his voice as monotone as ever. I gape at him for a few seconds, my pulse steadily slowing down and my breathing calming. My shoulders relax and my back leans on the hard concrete wall.

I blink.

Then I blink again.

Then I realize my feet are cold, and I tell him for some odd reason, and he blinks, unsure of how to react. Then I realize my hands are really warm. And the side of my face is really cold and it stings. He's holding something cold to my face, and he's holding both my hands in the other.

He's holding my hands.

My breathing stops and I stare down at my hands, my shoulders tensing yet again. I'm frozen in place as I'm not sure what to say or how to react. Chilling silence falls between us, and I can tell he's confused.

"Please don't make out"

He finally realizes why I've been gaping silently down at my hands and he hurriedly lets go of my hands and pulls both of his hands away, removing the cloth from my face and taking away the warmth my palms once possessed.

"Oh- sorry-... you were freezing." He mutters awkwardly. I nod slowly then shake my head, murmuring a small 'it's ok' under my breath.

I pulled my hands closer to me and rubbed them together.

They didn't abandon me. They were planning to rescue me too. They had a plan for me. They wanted and were ready to save me, despite the risks. Todoroki walked into an active fighting zone just to save me. My lips press together and I grip my hands tighter, overwhelmed by relief, and joy, and guilt.

"I thought you left me." I whisper. "I thought... i thought you guys were... I was so scared, I was so upset, I was so... mad." I huddle into myself further, my teeth gritting together.

"I'm so sorry, im so sorry you had to risk your life like that, I'm sorry I ever doubted you. I'm really sorry." My voice cracks. And Todoroki is silent for a while.

"Don't be sorry. It's understandable." Is all he said, and that seemed like more than enough from him. I look up at him with a deshevled look on my face, then I frown as I meet his gaze.

"Why are you wearing a wig...?" I ask, looking at the grey wig on his head. He pursed his lips awkwardly and removed the prosthetic. "Wait why are we here- where are we??" I look around, and we appear to be in an alley, a really narrow one for that matter.

"It was for a disguise... it was Yoayorozu's idea." He answered.

"Yoamomo's here?" My eyes widen. It made sense, where else would they get smoke bombs from.

"Yes. We need to meet up with her. The others are probably starting to worry." He says. "Can you stand?"

"Uh yeah I think so..." I slowly push myself up, leaning on the wall next to me. Todoroki follows suit, his hands slightly outstretched so he could catch me in the scenario of my balance faultering. I test my balance and I'm relieved to find myself with the energy to walk, I glance down at my clothes and exam them, my face scruntching up as my eyes travels across the dirt and blood and rips tainting my attire. And I remember the pounding in my head.

"Oh- Also," Todoroki reached for something in pocket, then pulled out two large, dark chocolate bars. My eyes widen as I stare down at the wrappers before me. "I remember Midoriya saying something about you and needing chocolate so I figured..."

"Thank you...!" I say before Venom takes control over my body and snatches the chocolate from his hands, quite recklessly.

"Can you be any slower!? Hello, I'm starving!"

Venom's words echo in my head as he shoves the chocolate down my throat.

[whumpshaped]

would you ever write a vampire with catholic beliefs? Who is struggling between his beliefs and his reality? 🍬🧠🍬🧠 I forgot my zip mouth emoji...Idk where it is...

so originally i wanted to write about isabella, but well, she's not a he, nor is she catholic (she's lutheran). so have this sad wet cat

tw vampire whumper/whumpee? i'm not sure what this man is- death, murder, religious themes, religious trauma, religious guilt, suicidal ideation, (self-imposed) starvation, self-blame, memory loss, abandonment, lady whumpee, noncon drugging, dehumanisation (of self)

It was cold when he awoke. The winter breeze bit into his twitchy body and made him curl up for a moment, but it paled in comparison to the ruthless hunger gnawing at his stomach.

His eyes snapped open to an unfamiliar scene, but recognising the terrain wasn't necessary for him to follow the scent of blood. It was all he could focus on, torn clothes and the cold long forgotten as he struggled to his feet and began following the trail.

Blood. Blood. Blood.

He wanted it. He needed it. He had to have it, no matter the cost.

He didn't have the presence of mind to stop and wonder about his heart that was no longer beating, nor the speed with which he was pursuing his prey. He didn't think about the fact that he could see all too well despite it being the middle of the night, he didn't even consider that normal people didn't usually hunt. Not in a town. Not like this.

He pounced on the man without hesitation. He pumped the body full of venom so he would be silent, then drank and drank and drank until–

"Holy shit," someone said quietly. Then, louder this time, "Holy shit. Vampire! There's a fucking vampire–"

He bolted before he could've heard the end of it. He didn't think about the man he left behind. He ran back to where he'd woken up, collapsing to the ground as soon as he got there. He felt exhausted, he felt... dead. More alive now that he'd had something to drink, but...

He lifted a hand and pressed it against his chest. Nothing. Of course, this should've been more than expected, having drained that poor man dry–

Oh dear. He'd likely killed someone.

His mind was reeling. He couldn't remember a thing from before waking up, but the past few minutes had already thrown him for a loop on their own. He was dead, a dead man walking, and he'd just killed someone. And another human had even seen him do it!

He tried to take a couple of deep breaths to ground himself, but the taste of blood in his mouth negated any effort he put in. He was a monster. He was a murderer. He was going to be hunted and killed.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

The scent of blood clung to him like a ghost, and he desperately wished for a warm shower to get it off. Alas, he had nothing but the clothes on his back and a discarded coat on the ground. He should at least look through that to see whether he could piece together who he used to be. He didn't even... remember his own name.

And where was his sire? The bloodthirsty monster who turned him into one of them? Had they not even waited for him to wake up? Had they not cared at all about the life they'd ruined?

Touching the coat brought back memories of his last minutes, the way the vampire had slipped it off his shoulders and threw it on the ground. He remembered being dazed and helpless, baring his neck for the demon to feast on. At the time, it seemed like the most important thing in the world, to be able to feed them.

He looked through the pockets and found an ID for Jude Flanagan, born 1998. The picture was... him? He gingerly touched his own face, as though his fingers could ever work as well as a mirror. Was he really the Jude on the card?

He was. His fingers brushed against the cloth of an eye patch, the same one the man on the photo was wearing. More memories flooded his mind: his mother calling him, his father yelling for him from downstairs, the priest scolding him.

Priest?

He found a Bible in the next pocket, a small one. He dropped it out of fear, afraid it would burn his hands like silver, but nothing happened. The book seemed harmless, apart from the implications it brought along.

He used to be a man of God.

"N-no... No, no, no, no. You were supposed to protect me," he choked out, picking up the Bible again. "How could You let this happen? How– how could a vampire– why would You let a vampire..."

No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it.

"I killed a man!" Jude cried. "First You deny me Heaven, and now– the temptation was all I had! I couldn't control it! I didn't see a way out!"

He curled up with the book in hand, sobbing like he was the one to be pitied. Like he was the victim and not the murderer, like he was deserving of any kind of sympathy.

"I didn't see a way," he repeated brokenly. "I didn't... I don't... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... Please, forgive me..."

-

Jude never quite managed to get used to the hunger. Nor the isolation.

The abandoned shack he'd found was good for shelter, but it was not a luxury abode, and the little money he managed to scrape together every other evening while disguising himself as a human beggar was not enough for much. The coat had become his most prized possession along with all the treasures it held: the Bible, the rosary, and the wallet with all the documents.

He bought new things, too. Some soap so he could wash himself well enough in the river, some candles to combat the suffocating darkness. Every little thing was precious, bought with the goodwill of humans who didn't care to look too hard at the creature they were giving their change to.

Jude could've charmed them. He could've tricked someone into inviting him inside, and he could've enthralled them to let him stay. He could've lived a more comfortable life, with a soft bed, a clean bathtub, and a belly always full of the warmest blood.

But he didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve to take any of it.

He'd thought about getting a stake and finishing the job his sire had started. He wanted so badly to be put out of his misery, to be greeted with kindness and compassion at the pearly gates before being allowed in — but he didn't deserve that either. His life wasn't his own to take, and nor was his unlife. God would make that decision when He saw fit, and until then, Jude could do nothing but atone.

He took no blood from humans. He lived on the blood of pests and small woodland creatures; roadkill sometimes, when he got lucky. He hated killing anything, but at least it was allowed, or... or he hoped it was.

Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground.

God had given the creatures to the humans, not the wretched monsters of the night. He could only hope and pray that his past humanity was something to be taken into consideration.

He was kneeling on the floor with his elbows resting on his borrowed bed, hands clasped together in prayer, when he caught the scent. A human. Was this the night he would finally be purged from the Earth? Or was the human the real owner of his makeshift home?

His stomach rumbled as the scent got stronger and stronger. His mouth was watering despite his best efforts to keep a level head, and he buried his face in the covers, trying to tune it out.

Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him.

Jude was shaking by the time the human reached the door of his temporary dwelling. He stayed on his knees and listened to the sounds of the lock being picked, preparing himself for the blessing that would be his permanent death.

If only he hadn't been starving. If only the human hadn't smelled so good.

But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death.

He lunged like a wild animal as soon as the door was pushed open. His fangs sank into the poor woman's neck easily, and she let out a groan as the venom took hold. Blood, so much blood, fresh, delicious, rich, so much better than the squirrels and rats–

Jude pulled back with a start, eyes wide with terror. No, no, no, not again, not again. He wiped his mouth and even his tongue with the back of his hand, trying to get rid of the proof of his sin. The woman was still alive, letting out soft sounds of satisfaction as she lay there.

Her neck was still bleeding. He ought to close the wounds.

Jude licked his lips, then took a step backwards. No, he wouldn't lick her. Hadn't he done enough damage? He could– he could find something to bandage her with–

In truth, he didn't trust himself. There was no telling whether he'd have the self-control to stop for a second time, were he to get that close to her neck again.

"Don't you want a little more?" she asked, pushing herself into a sitting position. "I'm still bleeding so much... You don't want to waste it, do you?"

There was a mask covering the lower half of her face, and judging from that and the all black attire, she must've been a hunter. This woman could've staked him. God had given him an out, and he'd let himself be blinded by his selfish hunger.

"I'm s-sorry," Jude stammered, quickly rummaging through all his belogings to find at least a band-aid. "I'll, I'll help you– I'll patch you up, I just need a moment–"

"Can't you lick the wounds closed?" She got to her feet and ventured further into the cabin, grabbing onto the back of his shirt to steady herself and making him flinch. "There's so much blood... Is the flavour not to your liking?"

Jude spun around, and found himself trapped between the wall and his victim. She pulled her mask down and gave him a smile, eyes sparkling with unabashed want.

"You don't want this," he choked out. The smell was so strong. She was so close. She was offering, if only because of the venom, but she was offering nonetheless.

"Oh, but I do. I want it so badly."

Jude stopped breathing entirely, closing his eyes for a moment to think. "What's your name?"

"Pia Gravenor, Master."

"D-don't call me that, please."

"I can call you whatever you want, sir, if you just spare me one more bite..." Jude's eyes snapped open when she grabbed his hand and guided it to the wound, pressing his fingers against her skin slick with blood. "The bleeding isn't stopping anyway..."

He swallowed hard, and her smile widened. She was so desperate for just a bit more venom. He could give that to her, and close the wound after. He could take just one more sip. Just one more.

He was leaning in before he could fully process that he was doing it, lapping up the spilled blood trickling down her neck. She ran her fingers through his hair and kept him there, murmuring soft reassurances and pleas for him to bite again.

Please, forgive me. I'm so hungry. I've been hungry for so long.

Let me have a full meal, just this once.

~

link

[ticklishthoughts1]

Start to Finish (350 Followers Story Post)

 Cuddles are, absolutely, the best thing in existence. That’s what I’m thinking as I glance down at them, their head nuzzled against my chest. What a cutie. I run a hand softly through their hair, and brush their ears…then grin a bit. Gently, I flutter my fingers by the tops of their ears, and mutter “Tickle monster woke up!~” While using one hand to grip their waist, keeping them cuddled to me. I giggle softly as they begin to squirm around a tiny bit as I gently caress their ears, their neck, the line of their jaw….after about 5 minutes of this relaxing, melting tickling? I flip them and me, using the knowledge i have from wrestling to seamlessly switch our positions so now I’m on top of them, straddling their waist, and relishing in that adorable blush. I wiggle my fingers at them, watching their lee panic build as they watch my hands slowly lower…..

Only to lean forward, and blow a soft raspberry into their neck. The sound of surprise mixed with laughter is simply adorable! So I blow another…just one more….okay, maybe 3 more. 5 more, tops. When done, I begin whispering teases in their ear, as my hands dart up to their ribcage. I giggle softly as their laughter takes a sharp increase-weren’t expecting that, were they? I coo at them as my hands dance around their upper body-armpits, ribs, back, tummy, bellybutton, sides, hips. I hit everywhere that makes them smile, and remind them exactly how cute they are.Of course…that’s only one half of the cute little lee’s body. Luckily I’m tall, so I only have to sit up a bit for my hands to be able to reach back to their thighs, pinching around and skittering, to the back and front of their knees, to their calves and ankles and feet. I move with them as they kick around, and giggle, before letting them catch their breath…then…”Boo!~” I Pounce again, this time targeting their favorite spot-at least, what I had observed to be their favorite from watching them squirm under me. I lock eyes with them, smirk a bit wider, and mouth “ticklish?” before targeting the area a biiiiit faster. I then let them go a bit, and mutter in a deeper voice “Run” as if I was some kind of villain. Maybe I am. Omega-Ler, or something. I let them try to run away, then chase them, silently at first, but then giggling in a teasy way that I KNOW affects them when I’m close. As we scramble around, I begin describing every way I’m going to wreck them, once I catch them. Every way I’m going to make them smile and blush and snort and squeal and squirm. Eventually, I run them into a corner, and walk a bit slower, being MORE teasy as I know I’ve essentially won. I then grab their wrists in a way that doesn’t hurt them, and wrestle them to the floor playfully, laughing a bit as we tumble around together. Of course, being a varsity wrestler, I win the little tussle, and end up straddling them again, this time gently tickling their palms while holding their wrists to the ground. I do this slow, gradually speeding up…until they crack. That, dear reader, is when I go in for the kill~ I do everything I said I would during the chase, step. By. Step. Some parts I tease, some parts I go sient. Slow, fast, pinchy and squishy and pokey and wiggly and oh so very tickly, is it all.I go for the self proclaimed tickle monster bit again, this time letting out playful fake growls, and gently nibbling at them, while making my hands pinch at them like monster claws. I do “drum solos” on their ribs and tummy. At one point, I’m just making them hysterical with ghost tickles alone. After an untold amount of time, I slow to a stop, and kiss them on the forehead, slowly getting up, and getting them some water. After making sure they’re okay, I silently begin, IMO, the best part: aftercare. So I help them up, maybe PICK them up if they’re okay with that. I then, go with them over to where we began, and hug them tight, muttering how cute they are, how special and wonderful. I mean every word, and I am very glad I know them. Finally, we end as we began. Embracing, with their head on my chest. Cuddles are the best thing in existence.

[auspicioustidings]

Can we get more about Price and rebel fighter!reader? I love them ❤️

You can get me trying my very hardest :')

Spitfire

Summary: Price's enemy is betrayed by her own soldiers and he finds he hates it.

Words: 2k

CWs: Terrorism, discussions of terrorist acts, torture (non-graphic, all happens off screen)

“Fuckin’ hell!”

How was this blasted woman so strong? She was pushing the tip of a knife down, trying to drive it into his throat, and he was barely holding her off. In his defence he had lost quite a bit of blood already in the fight, mean thing had stuck him in the leg. 

It was a sick sort of rescue. What he believed was her own people dragging her off of him and cuffing her as she fought wildly. He saw a look in her he hated. The look of someone being horribly betrayed by people they loved. 

He mostly expected he would meet his end here and decided he would go down at least being a bastard about it, finding some energy reserve to spring up and forward to tackle one of the men at the knees and take him down. There were too many of them and he didn't have a weapon, but he took pride knowing that he had definitely snapped something. Let's see the fucker run around playing terrorist with a ruined leg (many years later he would laugh about his line of thought as Alex Keller continued to be a menace with one leg gone below the knee).

They had him wrangled and pinned, a prisoner then. That was fine, they trained him to get himself out of captivity or at the very least to withstand it. The training failed for a moment when the crack of a backhand hit her and he could not contain his fury as he barked at them.

“Don't you fucking touch her!”

She met his eyes with furious shock before something smacked his temple and he blacked out.

-

Oh he felt awful. Waking up was a nauseating experience, definitely the aftereffects of a nasty concussion. Bastards. 

“About time. Hope your head is fucking banging.”

She was here then. He did a quick sitrep. His leg had been wrapped, so he wasn't bleeding out. One wrist was manacled to the wall of a bare cell. All in all not a terrible situation, he was still able bodied if a little banged up and the chain was long enough to provide a pretty wide arc of movement. 

She was hell to look at. She had fought, that much was clear from the black eye, swollen lip, torn clothing. The hand that wasn't manacled was mangled. It was difficult to see the full damage from where he was with her cradling it protectively in her lap so he slowly got to his feet and started towards her.

Her eyes followed him, calculating. As soon as she thought he was in range of her chain she pounced, tackling him to the ground and trying to strangle him before crying out in pain at the attempt to use her bad hand. It was easy for him to flip them, get her underneath him. She tried to grab his chain to use, probably to loop around his neck, but it was laughably easy to hold her wrists to the floor above her head with his hands and growl right in her face.

Fucking animal. Even now all she wanted was to murder him. It annoyed him how easily she was subdued in the attempt. This was far from the first scuffle he had been through with this particular terrorist, and not once had it been easy to escape with his life. She was not a creature to be broken like this.

“Will you fucking behave? You're not going to kill me with one hand, settle down and let me help.”

“Ha! Help? From one of the crowns army? What help could you give me Corporal? Your kind only knows how to harm, not to help” she spat back at him.

Christ, even now the fire in her hadn't dimmed at all. There was certainly hurt there, some new vulnerability he was unaccustomed to seeing in her, but the flame was no less bright because of it. 

“You really do believe your own bullshit don't you? We're only trying to stop your lot from destroying everything in your path.”

Her derisive laugh caused a prickle of molten hot annoyance to run through him. She always treated him like this, like he was so far beneath her. He had watched her once through a sniper in her element, with her people (it was the first time he had lied to his superiors, reporting that he couldn't get a good shot). Just her playing with a child, laughing and affectionate. She had been soft in that moment before her soldiers had interrupted and she had flipped to war mode. And war for what? Change? The way she chose to go about it was wrong.

“It's not us who straps bombs to innocents.”

Her stare felt like it was burning straight through him.

“It is you who shoots those innocents you care so much about through the eyes.”

He frowned. 

“What other choice is there?”

“There is always a choice. We send them asking for talks, say we will disarm them if we receive an agreement. It is always the same hypocrisy with you lot. When you make a choice to sacrifice an innocent for the greater good, it makes you a hero. When we make the same choice, it is criminal.”

He sighed in disgust and rolled off of her, both of them retreating to their own corner to sit and glower at one another. He always felt exhausted after any conversation he had with her. He was still fairly new to the army but he believed he was doing good. He believed the orders coming from the top must be well intentioned (honestly his future disdain for authority probably came from her, the mindset of one man's terrorist being another's freedom fighter certainly had).

After a spell of silence he spoke again.

“I'm a Sergeant now actually. Surprised your Intel didn't catch that.”

“It did, I just thought it would annoy you if I called you Corporal. Your kind seem very attached to these little names.”

There was a pause and then both of them were laughing. Laughing so hard it hurt. He could admit to himself that he felt a pang of horrible sadness when her laughter trailed off with a pained gasp. They had really done a number on her, he knew the pained noises of someone with cracked ribs. 

“Why did they…?”

Oh fuck. The way she curled ever so slightly, tried to make herself small. This woman had never tried to make herself small for anyone. They really had betrayed her then. 

“I made the mistake of thinking we were different from you.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Tell me Corporal, are women allowed to serve beside you?”

He didn't answer because they both knew they couldn't, not in the SAS (in the future he would get rip roaring drunk in celebration when they lifted the ban on women being allowed to serve in any capacity a man could. Kate still had the voicemail he had drunkenly left her saved, finding it quite adorable to hear him talk about all the potential recruits for the SAS he had his eye on). 

He had maybe been a bit surprised that she was leading this organisation, but that was surprise that the men she led were amenable, not surprise that she was capable. He had accepted it quickly, treated her with the same respect he would treat any enemy. So someone in the organisation had gotten emasculated and poisoned her men against her. What a stupid fucking way for this bright and brilliant pain in the arse of a woman to get taken out.

“Bunch of muppets.”

Another lull in the conversation. 

“I do not know what they intend to do with you. I did not condone torture, but I cannot say I will be surprised if that policy has already changed.”

“Is that worry for me?”

“...I hope they take your favourite finger first.”

A half hour maybe, and then another little talk. 

“You use innocents but don't condone torture?”

“One of these methods can work, the other will not.”

“We have gotten plenty of men to talk.”

“As have I Corporal, the difference being I know they speak true because they have joined me after I have treated them with dignity and care.”

“Recruitment over torture?”

“I know it pains you British soldiers to refrain from hurting your prisoners, but I assure you it is the better tactic.”

She seemed uncomfortable as that made her look her over again, take note of the ever darkening marks that had been left. He wished the rest of them thought the same suddenly, not for himself. He had trained for torture, he would get through it. He could not stand the thought of it happening to her.

-

He couldn't stop it. When they came to drag her out he was already beaten and sore, a few fingernails missing. He still tried, still looked at her and tried to reassure her everything would be OK. 

It took a few weeks until the first time she let him touch her. Not that he would ever say it out loud because he valued his eyes, but it was like looking after a feral kitten. He had to be slow with his movements, assure her with telling her what he was doing, be quick to dodge if she took a swipe at him. He had convinced a guard to at least give them a first aid supplies if they wanted them to last, and he cleaned her up as best he could. 

Another week went by and after he was tossed back into the cell she crawled over to him and repaid the favour. He called her Spitfire and she had pushed down on one of his bruises in warning. That only meant he used it more.

He wasn't sure how long it was, maybe a few months? But it was her who came to him in the night in the end. Her that curled up in his arms so they could speak in whispers, make some sort of plan for getting out alive. Only she never did move away once they stopped plotting and drifted off to sleep, opting to remain right where she was. Right where Price was rapidly realising she belonged. 

-

It took an incredible amount of luck to have the plan work. Well technically the plan went to shit in the first stages and they had completely improvised. They should really be dead, they would be if not for the absolute divine intervention of some rookie stumbling across them and firing at their pursuers, cleverly darting from angle to angle to make it look like a full army rather than one man. The stupid skull mask helped Price supposed, freaked people out (they never told Johnny or Kyle about it because it drove them wild never being told how they had met).

She laughed and it sounded wonderful. He suspected it would be a while until he heard it again so he savoured it.

“Well it was, unbelievably, nice working with you” he said, holding a hand out.

“I will only ever admit this once, but it was nice working with you too Sergeant” she answered, putting her hand in his.

Price was glad that the rookie had understood the assignment when he had tapped the zip ties on his hip earlier. Her shock at her wrists being swiftly locked together lasted for a few seconds before she screeched at him, trying to take him down.  

He'd make her laugh again eventually. He was sure of it. 

“Come on Spitfire, think we both need a trip to medical and a long bath.”

[sfehvn]

Hi! Saw your requests were open and I'm dying for some druid!tav (wild shape shenanigans) fics with Astarion, if you feel up to it ❤️ Maybe tav helps him hunt one night? But really anything you feel inspired by is fine by me ❤️

New Perspectives

A/N: Thank you for the request! This turned into mindless fluff I believe, so I hope you like it! :) Description: Astarion's favorite thing to hunt is you. Tav usually indulges him but she decides he needs some grounding this particular night. Word count: 796

  ━─━────༺༻────━─━

Red eyes followed intently, the slow and methodical creature's movements amounting to be one of the most elegant in all of Faerûn. The blades of the creature's back move harmoniously with each careful step across the wooded area. Astarion continued to revel in the polished maneuvers the black panther made in front of him, the creature now standing atop a rocky slope, taking a moment to carefully inspect the darkness amidst the shrub and brush before them.

  Astarion faltered if only for a moment, skulking back to remain unseen. His mind raced; he had always relished in the game of chase. As of late, his hunt of choice had been you. There was an intoxicating addiction in the thrill. Astarion had grown a healthy love for the thrill of everything you had to offer him. This had become a nightly occurrence. You wander and evade; he hides and strategizes a way to pounce when you’re least expecting him. The high of the chase always prompted you to bare your neck to him. He would always win, after all. Though he did wonder if you simply enjoyed the game as much as he did.

Within an instant, you’re on top of him. Pouncing from the rock, you land on top of the vampire with ease, causing him to crash into the dirt beneath his feet. Nuzzling your own snout into Astarion’s neck, much like he had done to you countless nights. Gazing down upon your prey, the moon kisses his pale skin and you shortly wonder how you had gotten so lucky. Chiseled from the finest of stones he was, but deeper than that your souls had never felt more integral to one another.

He had always been so closed-minded to the simpler things in life. Until you, that is. Slowly, you broke down the walls that he had built so sturdy around himself. A comfortable ignorance, he now often joked to you. In reality, the power he had craved was not his freedom. This was. After being in the dark for two hundred years, the little time he had in the sun had taught him many things, but he had relearned a love for the nature around him thanks to you.

Still propping up over Astarion, you allow your true form to materialize once more, hands firmly in the dirt beside his head; knees planted to the ground as you beam down at him. “I figured a change of pace wouldn’t hurt.” You murmur, moving in to place soft lips upon soft lips. Instinctively, his hands come to rest on your hips. He attempts to deepen the kiss and you tut softly, breaking away.

“Oh come on.” His tone is whiny, causing the faintest smile to grace your lips.

“Shh.” You urge, holding a finger out in front of his lips. “Do you hear that?” You hum, closing your eyes and sinking into Astarion’s chest.

His eyes remain on starlit skies, welcoming you into his arms. “Um… Not necessarily, darling. Are you doing okay?” He quips, brushing the hair from your face in order to indulge in the beauty that you radiated.

“I’m fine.” You groaned, looking up at him with wonder-filled eyes. “Listen carefully.” You coax.

“Well of course I hear everything. The cicadas-”

“Oh my, Astarion. Humor me for a moment, please.” The softest huff emanates from your pink lips.

But he does. He closes his eyes and grants himself grace to slip away for the moment.

The cicadas sing harmonically, yes. Faint buzzing can be heard from nearby insects. The melody of an owl hooting in the distance. Unknown animals scuttled in the distance, dead and fallen leaves crunching beneath their feet. Wind entangling into leaves of tall, unwavering trees. These were all things Astarion had heard countless times during hunts. Had he ever truly taken the time to admire the beauty of it all? He doesn’t believe so. It’s humbling for an instant.

He takes note of soft fingertips stroking his firm chest through his shirt, and what bliss is this? One Astarion doesn’t believe he will ever get used to. Despite his inability to return to the world of sunshine, something he greatly yearned for, it hurt a little less when you demonstrated just how beautiful his world truly was, so long as he recognized it

“Thank you.” He whispers, eyes reopening, pooled with the utmost love and admiration. For you, for the world you’ve encouraged him to see; one that has been right under his nose.

“For what?” You question absently.

“For everything.” You feel that familiar press of lips to your forehead. Maybe life bathed in moonlight wasn’t nearly as bad as he had grown to know. All he needed was a reminder and a new perspective every now and again.

[pinkfadespirit]

"It wouldn't be the same without you" for Anders/Karl.

This was sent by @spicywarl0ck (thank you!) but I was thinking that I had already written something similar for this pairing and probably wouldn't answer it, then as soon as I hit delete, this idea popped into my head 😅

This is set in a modern AU that I have started writing but haven't published yet. It takes place many years earlier than that fic, when Anders and Karl are still teenagers.

for @dadrunkwriting

Anders had lost track of the number of times his gaze had flicked up to the clock on the wall only to realise that he had barely made a dent in the hour he was expected to spend stuck in this stuffy classroom. His friends were all already free to do what they wished with the rest of their Friday afternoon, while Anders was supposed to be doing his maths homework. His exercise book was open on the desk in front of him but the only thing he’d made any progress on so far was a rather brilliant doodle of a tiger biting off his teacher’s head. The tiger’s name was Ser Pounce-A-Lot. He was a noble beast.

The seconds ticked by and seemed to last minutes. It was just hard to focus on much else when he knew exactly what he was missing out on. It was a glorious summer day and Anders could hear the chatter and laughter of people congregating outside, probably debating what to do with their freedom.

There would be a party tonight, down by Lake Calenhad, and Anders’ friends had planned to get there early to enjoy a sunny afternoon by lake. They’d even managed to secure a lift there for all of them. They’d had it all perfectly planned out until Anders landed himself in detention. 

There was still a chance he’d find some other means of travel but he’d had no luck so far, and their lift had no intention of waiting around for them. Surana and Karl and the rest would just have to go and have fun without him he supposed. 

Anders thought about it and added some more gore to the doodle of his teacher and Ser Pounce-A-Lot. 

Another glance at the clock told him that time was still moving impossibly slowly.

He’d just turned his attention back to his exercise book when the door to the classroom opened. When he looked up, he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. What was Karl doing here when he was supposed to be off having fun?

“Yes. What is it?” asked Miss Rylock impatiently.

“Mr Irving wanted to speak to you, Miss. He said it’s important and he needs you right away.”

Rylock scowled. “Did he say what it was about?”

“No, Miss. Only that he wouldn’t keep you long.”

She didn’t look happy about it but got to her feet all the same. Any other student and Anders wondered if she would have even considered buying it, but Karl’s reputation was spotless. He would never dream of lying to a teacher. At least that’s what Anders had always thought.

She glared at Anders and the other handful of students in detention with him. “No trouble while I’m gone,” she said in a voice that was convincingly threatening. “I will know if there is.”

As soon as she was out of the room, Karl gave Anders a significant look and Anders was already out of his chair, shoving his books into his bag. A few of the others were giving him uncertain looks, as though considering following suit but perhaps a little more convinced by Rylock’s threats. It wasn't as though Anders wasn't but he was willing to deal with the consequences later if it meant following Karl out that door right now.

They waited just long enough for Rylock to get out of sight, then ran for it, slowing only when spotted by a teacher who scolded them for running in the halls but seemed unaware of the real rule breaking taking place. 

They only stopped once they were outside, breathing hard and laughing in exhilaration. 

“Maker, Karl,” Anders got out between breaths. “I can't believe you did that!”

“Neither can I to be honest,” said Karl with a sheepish grin. 

“You're going to be in as much trouble as me when Rylock realises. Why would you risk that?”

Karl shrugged, looking embarrassed. “You just looked so disappointed that you weren't going to be able to come with us today. I didn't want you to be left out.”

It was so sweet and so unexpected that Anders didn't know what to say. Karl was still flushed with exertion and didn't seem to know where to look. Anders had the urge to hug him but couldn't quite bring himself to do it.

“You didn't have to, you know. You could have just gone ahead to the party with Surana and the others. You didn't need to worry about me.”

“I know but…” Karl shrugged then looked shyly up at him. “It wouldn't have been the same without you.”

Anders felt his face grow hot in a way that had nothing to do with the bright sunshine beating down over them. For the longest time Anders had kept his feelings for Karl to himself (well, not entirely, because Surana knew, which meant that Jowan also knew) convinced that someone as sweet and smart and good as Karl would never fall for a troublemaker like Anders. But now for the first time, he wondered if he might have been mistaken about that. Suddenly his heart started to beat faster, the blood roaring in his head, where all coherent thought had disappeared. He was so full of hope he felt dizzy with it. 

All he could think to say was, “Thank you.”

Karl smiled sweetly back at him and Anders’ heart kept on beating just a little too fast. “Any time.” A pause, then, “Come on. We might still be able to get that lift from Solona’s brother if we hurry.”

With a giddy feeling inside him, they both took off running again.