#and savage is a bitch sometimes

[dathomirdumpsterfire]

[xxplastic-cubexx]

I recently rewatched 92' and I'm honestly obsessed with the idea of Charles and Magnus having a yearly vacation together in the Savage Lands

nothing could be better than retreating to a jungle rife with dinosaurs with your on-and-off husband thats PEAK vacationing i reckon

[fisheito]

Saw these screenshots side by side in my gallery and . sure.

[nyrandrea]

Everything's Fine

As you try to deal with everything that has been thrown at you so early into your journey: forced leadership, mindflayer tadpoles and taking on everybody's personal problems, it all just gets a bit too much for you.

(Takes place during Act 1)

Word Count - 3.5k

Also available to read here on AO3!

Enjoy!

xxx

You felt your patience starting to wear incredibly thin when you realised Astarion had been staring at you for over five minutes now. 

Not directly, he would never be so conspicuous—at least, not intentionally— but you kept catching those fleeting glances he was throwing your way; the corners of his red eyes crinkling every so often before returning to whatever book he was pretending to read. It wasn’t one of those charming, smouldering gazes he would sometimes give you after a night of feeding, asking if you were alright, knowing full-well that your answer was a resounding ‘I’m fine’, and that you would provide for him again soon. 

No, what he was doing right now—very carefully—was scanning you, studying you,  judging you. It was as if he was trying to leer right through to your very soul. 

You almost had half a mind to stomp over to his tent and demand what his problem was, but there were other unfortunate issues to contend with. 

Namely Shadowheart and Lae'zel. 

“I already told you that the artefact is my responsibility,” Shadowheart said, her aloof demeanour and confident tone betrayed by the hand hovering over the hilt of her dagger. “This way it will protect us all, I thought we had already established that!” 

“We have established nothing,” Lae’zel hissed back. “We only agreed not to slit each other’s throats in the night, though...,” she grimaced. “I still have no reason to trust that you will not try again.” 

“At least there’s still some sense in that bullish head of yours.” 

“Tsk!” Lae’zel spat at Shadowheart’s feet, much to the latter’s disgust as she recoiled back. “However, the matter still stands that the relic you hold onto belongs to my people. Therefore, it should be in my possession!” 

The cleric sneered. “I would sooner slit my own throat.” 

“Then go right ahead. Nobody will stop you.” 

Rubbing at your temples to try and ease the incoming migraine that, for once, was not caused by the mindflayer parasite living rent-free in your head, you decided to step in-between the two women, not really caring about risking a gutting from their trigger-happy blades. 

“C’mon, we’re not seriously having this fight again?” You huff incredulously, the question already sounding stupid as soon as it left your mouth. Because of course they were having this fight again. They had it yesterday, and the day before that, and they were probably going to have it tomorrow as well. 

“We are, as it happens,” Shadowheart replied, her eyes flickering briefly to you before narrowing forward again. “Because this savage bitch won’t leave me alone!” 

Lae’zel bared her teeth in a cruel grin. “Better to be that than a revrykal of Shar.” 

At the mention of her Goddess’s name, Shadowheart practically lunged herself towards Lae’zel with an enraged scream, her dagger raised high with the intention of plunging it straight into the githyanki’s chest, who in turn raised her shield to protect herself. In that moment, you were nothing to them but a speck of dust in the wind. 

It wasn’t until your hand shot up in a blind panic when Shadowheart realised what she was doing, forcing her to suddenly pull back to avoid injuring you, only a moment too late as her knife slashed the palm of your hand. Blood sprayed across the ground as your short but pained cry echoed throughout the camp. 

“Oh Gods...” Shadowheart muttered as everyone was suddenly on their feet and crowded around the three of you in a matter of moments. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t... mean to...!” 

“What? Attempt to kill our leader in cold blood?” Lae’zel muttered as she took your trembling hand to examine it, you only stared ahead as the shock took a moment to wear off. You didn’t even register her uncharacteristically gentle touch as she turned your palm up. “Only a flesh wound, you will live.” 

“Still,” Astarion piped up from behind. “Perhaps it would be best to get that dressed up lest you attract any...*ahem* unsavoury visitors.” 

“It would seem we already have,” Lae’zel replied, to which the vampire put a hand up to his chest in mock offence. 

“Lae’zel, you depreciate me,” he pouted. “I’m hurt.” 

Astarion’s sudden cold grasp on your wrist startled you as he decided to examine the cut himself in a much less gentle manner than Lae’zel. “Not that I would be able to get much from this anyway, even if I tried.” 

You were slightly worried that he was pondering the idea the longer he stared at the wound; you could practically see him drooling. It wasn’t until you cleared your throat that he snapped out of his daze. 

“Well, we should probably get this cleaned up anyhow,” he finally said. “To avoid infection and whatnot.” 

“...You’re not gonna lick it clean, are you?” Karlach asked with a grimace. 

“Of course not!” Astarion bit back, much more flustered this time. “I’m not some savage beast, you know.” 

“That’s... debatable,” Gale piped in. 

“Well! It’s lovely to know that you all think so little of me; the feeling is very much mutual,” Astarion said with a fake smile before taking you by the shoulder. “Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I’ll have to nurse this poor wounded soul, as well as my pride.” 

He started guiding you away from the rest of the group, you only allowed him to because the whole situation had you in a bit of a daze, but not before Shadowheart tried to get in another “I’m... I’m sorry.” 

“It’s... I’m fine,” you replied with whatever level of composure you could muster up with a smile in a small attempt to reassure her before allowing yourself to be led towards Astarion’s tent. Your words seemed to satisfy her as Shadowheart returned a sorrowful but grateful nod, though her expression turned sour when Karlach stepped between her and Lae’zel. 

“Alright now, ladies, what do you two say we let out our pent-up aggression towards each other in a healthier and less murder-y way, huh?” The tiefling suggested before holding up her finger to not let the other two get a word in edgewise. “And before you ask, I will not be taking no for an answer.” 

A small smile graced your lips at Karlach’s enthusiastic yet surprisingly pragmatic way of taking charge, and it seemed to be working as Shadowheart and—to your utter astonishment—Lae’zel agreed to whatever training regimen she had in store for them.  

‘Perhaps Karlach should take over as leader...’  

The idea was extinguished as soon as it had entered your mind, replaced with thoughts of the tiefling messing everything up, of her killing you in your sleep, that you shouldn’t trust her to lead your party. The only one who should have any authority over these subordinates is you. Only you are worthy. 

The voice quieted down after a few moments, leaving you only with a pounding head—just another one of the many wonderful side-effects of the parasite. 

You didn’t take any heed of whatever thoughts the tadpole forced upon you. You knew that Karlach would never hurt you, or any of the others for that matter—not by choice, anyway. However, those flashes of betrayal and blood were starting to wear you down a bit, especially with the lack of sleep; the very notion of it had been non-existent since you escaped the nautiloid and accepted the leadership that everyone had practically forced upon you. 

You weren’t exactly a natural-born leader; hell, you barely managed to keep yourself alive never mind a whole group of people. 

“That’s going to need stitches,” Astarion said as he observed your hand more closely now that the two of you were in the privacy of his tent. Heat flushed around your cheeks at how close the two of you were. Flashes of that night you had shared a bed—or well, the forest floor—came to mind, and you hated how flustered it made you. It was a one-night stand, a bit of fun to ease the stress of adventuring; clearly it meant nothing. At least... that was what you were made to feel. 

What had been a night of passion for you, had been the same old dance for him. 

“Take a seat there,” Astarion’s said, his voice cutting through your thoughts like a knife. “I should have a needle around here, somewhere.” 

“You know how to sew?” You asked, settling down on a cushioned stool. 

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he said, and a sting of guilt surged in your chest. “How do you think I’ve kept these clothes looking so good for over two hundred years? Certainly not by magic.” 

“Why not just buy new clothes?” 

Your prodding seemed to hit a nerve as he paused for a moment. 

“Why waste the coin?” He finally replied, sounding a little dejected. 

“Sorry,” you said, biting your lip as you tried to think of a way to quickly rectify your carelessness. “You do look great, by the way—y-your clothes, I mean,” embarrassment takes over as you trip over your own words. “The gold embroidery is um *cough * it’s nice.” 

Astarion seems amused at your inability to grasp basic English as he chuckles, the sound deep and almost musical. “Why thank you, darling. I’m glad someone around here appreciates the finer details.” 

The vampire kneels next to you and threads the needle before gesturing for you to hold out your hand. “It has been a while so... let’s just hope I’m not too rusty, hm?” 

Those words don’t instil a great deal of confidence within you, but you won’t allow it to show, trusting in him to get the job done. If you ended up getting sepsis, well... Withers was always on stand-by. 

“Now, hold still,” Astarion instructed. “This may sting a little.” 

You nodded, only wincing a little when he made the first stitch, the pain became more bearable as you watched him focus with the kind of laser-like precision that only came with a practiced hand; it made you wonder how many times he had done this. His methodical movements almost lulled you into a sort of relaxed trance, had your mind have not been working overtime, you honestly might have fallen asleep: Gods know you could have done with a bit of shut eye. 

Ever since the ship crashed, your problems just seemed to keep piling on top of each other: Lae’zel was hellbent on getting to that githyanki creche, and there was the matter of Karlach’s engine, Gale was close to blowing to kingdom-come if he didn’t get another magical item to consume soon, Astarion would probably need another feeding at some point, not to mention the dog, Scratch, and the owlbear cub who had started hanging around the camp. A dog was one thing but how much did owlbears need to eat?  

It was fine, you reassured yourself. Everything would be fine. 

“There we go,” Astarion said, relinquishing your hand back, freshly stitched and cleaned. The pain was still there, dull and throbbing, but it wasn’t anything a quick healing spell couldn’t fix. 

“Not my best work but it will just have to do for now,” he huffs, as if he was annoyed with himself. “You’ll have to excuse the sloppy stitching, it’s... been a while.” 

“It’s beautiful work,” you can’t help but admire the stitching; it was flawless. “Thank you, Astarion.” 

His gaze remains on you for a moment, as if he were expecting some sort of quip or punchline, and his eyes widen slightly when he realises you’re being genuine. 

“I... uh... you...?” He pauses and squints; still nothing. “You are... most certainly welcome.” 

You raise an eyebrow; did he really think so lowly of you that he believed you simply weren’t capable of a simple 'thank you'? Or was it himself that he had no confidence in? Your thoughts turn to when you asked him about how he came about becoming a vampire. Astarion kept most of his history closed off from you but told you just enough to let you know that this ‘Cazador’ fellow had treated him poorly. Belittled him. Enslaved him. 

You couldn’t begin to imagine how horrible it must have been; no wonder he didn’t trust anyone. 

A part of you wanted to pry into his thoughts, to let him know that you were here for him should he ever want to talk, but a new figure entered the tent, startling you into closing your mouth. 

“Hello!” Gale cheerily greeted with a smile, his eyes latching onto you immediately. “How are we feeling?” 

“Oh, we’re feeling quite dandy, thank you,” Astarion interjected with a frown. “You didn’t think to knock before deciding just to barge in?” 

“Well, given the materialistic structure of this very sound establishment, I think you’ll find it’s a little difficult to uh...” Gale trailed off, attempting to rap the tent flap to no avail. “...knock on.” 

“Then why not just knock on the wooden beams with that...” The vampire waved lazily towards Gale’s staff. “Very large stick of yours.” 

“Duly noted, but I think we’re getting a bit off track here,” the wizard said before turning to you. “I need a word.” 

You were taken aback slightly by his bluntness, and you couldn’t help but notice the almost pained way he was wringing his hands and how his eyebrows subtly twitched. He looked incredibly... uncomfortable. 

His hand hovered over his chest briefly, just above the mark that glowed whenever he consumed magic. 

Shit. Was it that time already? But hadn’t you given him something only yesterday? Or had it been a few days now? With recent events, it was hard to keep track of the time anymore; day and night just meshed into one big messy blur. 

Judging by your panicked look, Gale held up his hands in a placating manner. “Now, I know you’ve had a lot on your plate recently but this little uh... situation of mine is growing quite dire again so... if you could just relinquish whatever magical artefact you have, then all will be fine and dandy.” 

“I... don’t have anything on me at the moment.” 

Gale’s expression dropped. “Come now, you must have picked up something along the way, surely?” 

You grimaced. 

“In a dungeon? Along the road? What about that little goblin camp you rampaged through recently?” 

His sudden passive-aggressiveness made you feel uneasy. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Astarion cut in, folding his arms. “But we were a bit preoccupied with fighting for our lives to be on the lookout for any magic boots for you to chew on.” 

Gale chuckled dryly and drew the vampire a dirty look. “I don’t think you quite understand the gravity of what might very well happen if I don’t find something to contain the beast within me very soon- “ 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, darling.” 

“This isn’t a joking matter!” 

“Ugh! Just shut up!” You snapped. “I do get it, Gale. Because you remind me Every. Damn. Day. About this big, scary, mystery catastrophe that might happen without actually explaining anything about it! A bit of context would go a long way!” 

Gale’s hurt wince suddenly had your stomach churning in guilt; you shouldn’t be snapping at people; you were better than that. 

“I’m sorry,” you quickly apologised. “As soon as we’re out on the road again, I’ll make it our priority to look for an artefact for you, alright? You have my word.” 

Astarion scowled and Gale forced a smile; his lips too strained for it to be genuine. It seemed like you couldn’t please anyone today. 

“That’s all I can ask for, and I promise... all will be revealed soon, otherwise the tadpoles will be the least of our worries.” 

When Gale left, you plopped down to the ground and took ragged breaths to calm your nerves, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of hurt as you nestled your injured hand in your lap. Had Gale only checked in on you so he could ask you for a magic item in return? Was he really that desperate? He must have been, seeing as you had completely forgotten about his predicament. 

What kind of leader were you? 

“You know, you can’t go making promises all willy-nilly like that,” Astarion said. “We have enough problems as it is without having to worry about...” 

His chastising faded into white noise as you grasped your head, the sting of your fingers curling and tugging through unkempt hair was just enough to distract from the pounding that came from within your brain. The ability to focus was suddenly lost to you as your heart raced, and dark emotions swirled within your chest like a wild tornado; it was tempting to let them sweep you away, to ride the waves into the unknown. To be anywhere but here without anyone depending on you for so, so much.  

“Hello?” Astarion drawled. “Are you even listening to- Darling...?” 

He moved closer to you; his steps measured and deliberate as he lowered himself down next to you, still allowing you enough space while being close enough to reach out a hand to your trembling shoulder, his touch cold yet oddly comforting. 

“Hey,” he spoke in a soothing, soft tone, his crimson eyes locking onto yours with unwavering support. “I’m right here with you, you’re safe, just breathe along with me, alright?” 

You nodded, albeit shakily, and tried to mirror his calm, measured breaths, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, attempting to regain control over your racing heart. 

Astarion’s voice never wavered as your frantic gasps slowly started to synchronise with his calm breathing. “I know things are tough right now, but these feelings will soon pass. You’re stronger than you think, darling.” 

He continued to gently rub your back, tracing comforting circles with his fingertips, a rhythm that matched the cadence of your breath. Your hands slowly unlatched from your hair as you felt Astarion’s reassuring presence and honeyed words grounding you. 

“There we go, you’re regaining control,” he encouraged softly. “Now, I’m going to get you a glass of water, will you be alright for a moment?” 

You nodded again, and with a quick squeeze of your shoulder, he left. As your panic attack started to ebb, your breathing evened and your heart slowed as you felt yourself returning to the present moment, the tension that had your body rigid starting to ease. 

Astarion was back by your side within moments, gently pushing a glass into your hand and helping you lift it to your lips for a small sip of water, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat. 

“How do you feel?” 

“I’m-” 

“And don’t you dare say ‘I’m fine’,” he scowled. "Because we both know you’re clearly not.” 

You racked your brain to try and find a way to explain that you were okay and that this was just a small moment of weakness, a blip in the road, that there was nothing to worry about and you had it all figured out. 

But the words never came, instead you draw your knees up and hug them close to your chest as if to hide away from his piercing gaze. 

Astarion lingers by your side for a moment, his expression unreadable. 

“Would you like to stay in here for a while?” 

Unable to find the energy to speak, you simply nod. 

“Then come on, scooch over.” 

As you shuffle slightly to the side, Astarion sits down next to you, draping an arm over your shoulder and allowing you to settle your head into his side and cling to his shirt in a way that a child might cling to their mother. 

“...I’m sorry." 

From the corner of your eye, you could see Astarion’s expression soften as he waved a nonchalant hand. “Oh, you have nothing to be sorry for, dear. If anything, I should be the one apologising, who knew being in my mere presence would be so breathtaking?” 

You managed a small chuckle at that. 

“But in all seriousness,” he continued. “I know a thing or two about putting on a façade and... well...,” he paused. “Just... know that if you ever want to talk, I’m all pointy ears.” 

You hum in acknowledgement, though you can tell by his undertone that he’s being disingenuous, kindness wasn’t exactly his forte after all, but you appreciated the attempt all the same. But you were just content to sit in his arms for a while, and he seemed pleased enough with the silence. So, for now, you inhale the comforting aroma of bergamot, rosemary and brandy, letting yourself get lost in his comforting presence. 

And exhale. 

xxx

Hellooooo Baldur's Gate 3 has me in a chokehold and the brainrot is real. I'm only in Act 1 hence why this fic takes place so early in the game but this idea wouldn't leave me alone so here we are. Apologies for any inconsistencies :'3 Let me know what y'all think!

*Edit - since this has been pretty well received, I've opened up requests! Pop me an ask if you would like one :)

[herstarburststories]

sitting on gator tillman's face to shut him the fuck up.

a/n: I know this is lateee, I'll post two kinktobers today and two tomorrow to get on the right track of the days. beware> oral sex (female receiving), hate/love relationship, mentions of humping, and dirty talk

Gator Tillman gets on your nerves sometimes.

No, scratch that. He always gets on your nerves. You don’t know what irks you most about him: the stupid smirk; that disgusting vape; his baseless facede of confidence; the constant teasing sarcasm in his words, if he were incapable of taking anything seriously; or, maybe, it was how he was so impossibly gorgeous even when he was bleeding out. 

Gator irritates you more than any other being, from the poor excuse of a politicians to the stupid policimen that you face from time to time at the station.

So, it’s good to finally shut up his mouth. Even better, you’d put it for a good use for once.

His brown eyes glow and widen as he looks up to you, naked body impatient on the mattress as he nibbles on his bottom lip in anticipation. Tillman's cock is already hard only from making out and some humping. It’s so easy to get him all worked up for you.

You throw your shirt away, and Gator lets out a quiet grunt his response. His idiotic lips are parted slightly as he watches your tits. You aren’t wearing a bra and fuck, he just wants to touch you, but for right now, this isn’t about him. Well, not directly.

This is about how furious you are because Gator Tilmman has no right to make you feel like a high school girl discovering how a crush felt. You were always surrounded by a light-hearted feeling that made you want to do a dumb thing like kiss his smoke lips in the back of a bar or jump in front of a bullet to save his ungrateful ass.

How did you, of all people, develop a crush for Gator? Gator is, well, Gator! – a pathetic, cocky son of a bitch. Come on, you’re smarter than that! You’ve gotta be a masochist. 

Nonetheless, you get rid of your pants and underwear, pussy almost dripping for this idiot. Tillman whimpers at the sight, licking his lips. The only thoughts revolving around in his head are: I need to taste you.

''Fuck.''

You glance at him, the beginnings of a smile lightening your features. The big, bad deputy certainly doesn’t have the usual arrogant look on his face now.

You still have your boots on when you climb on top of the bed, and Gator doesn’t seem to care one bit. If anything, his livid, chocolate orbs catch a glimpse of you, naked and climbing on top of him, only wearing those fucking boots. He gulps, not remembering the last time he’s been this turned on. He is a goner.

You place your hands on his shoulders, and you’re sitting on his legs. The wetness of your needy cunt makes a mess there. Part of you wants to ride his thigh, rubbing until you achieve your share of relief. You have a thought or two about just taking his length inside you — how couldn’t you? The tip of his hardness is pressing against your belly, his desire palpable from the precum sluicing your skin. When Gator groans, it’s almost silent; animalistic, even. He grabs your hip as if you were his. God, you want to be, but not today.

Tillman leans in to capture your mouth in another savage kiss, but you pull back. He gives you a confused look. “Wh--”

“That's not where I want your mouth.”

At first, his eyes go wild and you can see him swallwing, salivating, And then, Gator offers your that malicious grin. It’s filled to the brim with confidence. “Well, dollface,” he breathes, and you groan at the stupid nickname he probably gives to every single woman he meets. Son of a bitch. “What’s it to you, then? You want me to get on top of you so I can fuck you nice and slow?” You are about to laugh at his face over the implication of being dominated by him, but Gator's fingers slide into a clandestine meeting with your clit, carefully caressing it as if you were lovers. All you can do now is sink your nails into his skin and moan, shamefully loud. “Or you want to ride my thigh? Come without even touching my cock like a good slut?”

That wasn’t your plan, but it felt so good. If Tillman's fingers are that heavenly, fucking his cock might turn you into a goddess, but you can’t.

You aren’t going to give in that easily. He tried to give you orders through the whole day at the station. The others might have a high tolerance for moods of Roy Tillman's son, but you don’t. You’re going to teach him a thing or two about shutting the hell up.

You push his hand away, your body aching as if you broke a bone. Yet, you persevered as you took a deep breath and grinned impishly at Gator, devouring the despair in his eyes when he no longer has his hand on you.

“You talk way too much, Tillman.” Your fingertips trace a line from his jaw to his neck, trailing down his chest; always following his foolish, adorable freckles. You catch a glimpse of goosebumps rising under your touch. It only causes your smirk to go wider. Gator is glaring at you with raised brows, and you push him to lay on his back.

His cock twitching is proof enough that he enjoyed that.

You press your warmth on his length, retracting your hips when he tried to get inside you. Gator lets out a beautiful, frustrated grunt.

“Dollface...” Now that’s better. And suddenly he’s groaning your name, fully aware only you are giving him pleasure. This is personal, this is dwindling, it’s everything you both have been craving.

“You talk too much, Gator. Always trying to look like the fucking man in the room” You’re basically climbing on him now, your pussy enjoying the small relief of friction from Tillman's hips, his stomach, his chest. You opt to sit there. “Someone should shut you up.”

Gator wishes he could answer. He wants to smirk at you, bring up other teasing comments only to get more of this. You are frisky and dominant – everything his body and soul begged for. Yet, he can’t bring himself to do anything other than lean his head forward in an attempt to catch your pussy with his lips. You smell so good. He can’t wait to taste you. He just wants to eat you out, but you pull away from him with a laugh as if you found amusement in his suffering. Fuck, he’s getting even harder

Gator Tillman is so touch-starved for anything you’re willing to give him.

You rise from his chest, your wetness leaving him soaked. He can’t complain, though. Not when you blessed him with the sight of paradise.

That’s it, Gator decides. Your cunt is the best thing he has ever seen, and he needs to toy with it.

Because you’re over his head, literally. Knees to the mattress on each side of his head, your pussy is right on his face, so appetizing and wet all for him.

“Dollface..” he tries, but you are quick to stop him. It’s a good thing. He’d probably make a fool out of himself from begging to let him touch you, just a little.

“Shh, sweetheart. Just shut up.” Gator barely catches a glimpse of pleasure for that before you sit on his face. “Now eat me out.”

Nevermind, this is his heaven.

You bite your lower lip, trying to regain some composure as you coil your fingers around the bedpost, nails pressed so strenuously into the hardwood there that you wouldn’t be surprised if you left marks carved there. What else are you supposed to do? Gator doesn’t waste any time when you sit on his face, eating you out like you’re a fucking meal and he’s a starving man. His chin and lips and nose are all wet from you.

This man is fucking hungry for you.

“I knew that pretty mouth of yours could go to good use, baby,” you mumbled amidst his pornographic groans, grinding your hips down to ride his face. Gator shoves his tongue inside your warmth, finding comfort between your tight walls.

He pulls away, but only because he needs to breathe. Tillman nibbles on your inner thigh, smirking when you whine for him. So gorgeous and delicious. He gets your clit between his teeth carefully — this isn’t supposed to hurt.

You inhale sharply, looking down to catch him in the act. He looks so hot like his, eating you out with his viridescent gaze fixed on your face as if you were his grand enlightenment. You look like everything he never thought he could have when you were like this: sitting on his face and giving yourself to him, glancing at Gator with your hands fixed on the headboard and tresses of your hair falling on your face.

After this, he has to kiss you some more. He just has to.

For now, though, the deputy is more than happy eating out his prey. He enjoys every aspect of this. You taste as if you were made to be this good for him. The tip of his tongue brushes your G-spot, and he can’t wait for you to come. 

The idea of tasting your orgasm makes his cock ache deeply in the best ways possible. Gator's freaking sure he’s about to come untouched because of your needy cunt.

He licks your clit before enveloping you with his lips, sucking on you at your neediest. You begin to lose your cognitive senses, melting into a screaming mess and pressing your pussy closer to him. Tillman is almost suffocating, and he couldn’t be happier. 

Your thighs tighten around his ears, a cry leaving your lips as Gator focuses all his attention on your clit. He only pauses to sink his tongue into your warm wetness before coming back to your sensitive spot.

You clutch the bedpost as if you are holding onto dear life as you come all over Gator's face. He tries to catch all of you — not because he doesn’t want to get dirty, but because he ain’t gonna miss one single drop of your juice. 

You taste so fucking good, much better than anything he has ever put on his tongue. Tillman is an addict now, and he can’t get enough of your cunt, your cum, or you.

He licks you clean, getting the most he can of you, and you whine through the intense sensation of freedom that comes with it. Fuck Gator and his spoiled tongue.

You get up with trembling legs. Your hand slides to find his hard cock and offer what relief you can, but you just find milky come on his stomach.

Did he come only from eating you out?

Holy fuck.

You make the mistake of looking at his face after that realization. He’s breathless, glancing at you and licking your juices off his lips. He looks flushed and satisfied, smirking with dimpled cheeks. You can see your come on his chin and nose. “Remind me to never stop talking if this is how you’re gonna shut me up.”

request for kinktober. reblogs and comments are magic. ♡

[auspicioustidings]

Sacrosanct

Summary: Following on from the events of Savage, Simon steals you back.

Words: 3.5k

CW: Smut, Non-con

Please go back and read the blurb from Savage. The same rules apply here, this is a rape fantasy. If that is not your thing do not read it.

It had been a month since you had been taken over the border and you were still sore in places. MacTavish… Johnny. Johnny had been gentle with you as soon as you crossed into his homeland. It was like he was a different person, the Savage gone and replaced by some romantic hero. 

He had bedded you again, but it was with none of the primal brutality he had taken you with that first night. No, he remained true to his word and treated you like a princess. You were fucked slowly and tenderly into furs and downy pillows. He lapped sweetly between your legs while one of his men smiled and fed you bites of food. You recognised him as one from that night, the one whose hand print was almost fully faded from your thigh, but like Johnny his men too were different now. 

It was like you had fallen into a dream. Sometimes you thought perhaps you had crossed into the fae realm, that this was some form of magic. They dressed you in soft but simple fabric in the MacTavish clan colours and it took your breath away any time you thought on it. He was marking you as his, but not how you had expected. This was not how you would mark a conquest or a slave, this was how you would mark family, how you would mark wife.

It was dizzying, his kindness. He bathed you and massaged at your sore muscles. He laughed fondly when you smiled at the puppy he brought into your room. He whispered to you in the middle of the night about names for babies with his finger tracing patterns on your belly. 

You began to think of him as a different man entirely to the one from that night. There was the Savage and then there was just Johnny. And that was terrifying in its own way, because how could you ever know if the former would come back? 

But still, some part of you started to slip into contentment. The horror of what had happened was smothered with sweetness and gentility until it faded away. You didn't think about escaping as you had the first week. There was never any attempt of course, you were not stupid enough to think you could manage it, but you had often daydreamed about it.

It must have been some sort of divine wrath for your sins that it was only when you had settled into some form of comfortable that someone far scarier than the Savage came for you in the dead of night while Johnny was away. 

You woke to a weight on top of you, at first thinking it must be Johnny straddling you in the bed. But when you opened your eyes there was a bright white skull glaring down at you in the gloom. You wanted to scream, but you were scared stiff and even if you had been able to produce a sound his gloved hand had roughly settled over your mouth.

“Hello sweetheart, don't you look cosy in MacTavish's bed.”

Your eyes widened. English, he was English. And while the words were non-threatening, his tone was violent. You felt like your blood had turned to ice under this creature. He snarled at you and got into your face, eyes wild and angry.

“You scream and I'll rip you open, understand?”

You could only nod through the tears and then remain quiet when his hand left your mouth. Even without the warning you didn’t think you would have been able to scream through the fear. You knew with a horrible certainty that this man really would tear you apart if you crossed him. 

“Go back to sleep bitch.”

You didn't even see the pommel of his danger coming as he clocked you in the temple and you blacked out. 

–

Your head felt fuzzy when you came to, like your brain was waterlogged. It took a full minute before you properly got consciousness back, enough that you could feel that your wrists were bound around something above you making your shoulders ache. Someone had dressed you in a fine gown, the kind you would have expected to be wearing after your marriage to gatherings of nobility. There was a dim sort of throb somewhere in your lower half that you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

You blinked in the dim light of the chamber you were in. A bedchamber. A regal one. There was a fireplace glowing with embers that was providing some light to see the furnishings. You hazily looked up to figure out where your arms were bound to find they were tired around the poster of a large, plush bed. Even the floor was soft beneath you, an ornate rug cushioning you.

It was all quite beautiful, like something out of your silly girl hood dreams. You tried to calm your heart, perhaps the rough treatment by the man with the skull mask was not indicative of whatever treatment you would face here. After all he had been English, had maybe taken you back across the border. Home you reminded yourself, even if something in you ached to think it. Even if some pathetic little part of you had started to think of Johnny as home even after what he did to you.

You caught movement from the corner of your eye and startled. The skull masked man was sitting in the corner, watching you. It knocked any coherent thought from your mind when he took off the mask and you came face to face with your fiance. He looked far more severe in real life than in his portrait. The artist had lessened the two large scars on his face, had made his eyes softer. When he stood it was staggering how large he was, already incredibly tall but from on the floor seeming monstrous. You quickly put your eyes to the floor, bowing your head with as much respect as you could.

“Lord Riley. I-” you said, trying to think of anything to explain the past month to him and coming up short when he crossed the room and drew his sword, putting the flat of the blade under your chin to force your head to tilt up. 

“Did you know that the man you let fuck you flew the lion rampant when he was last slaughtering my men? A symbol of my country and he thinks to steal it.”

You could not move, could barely breathe without the sharp tip of the sword cutting your throat. You thought you might wind up drooling to avoid swallowing, knowing that it would almost certainly draw blood. You could only look at him as he spoke and looked down at you in disgust.

“Lionesses will try and protect their unborn cubs by letting themselves be mounted by any male in the vicinity to confuse paternity. Reckon if I let you loose you'd go through my soldiers like you went through those Scottish bastards wouldn't you? Let them all spill inside you.”

The tears were spilling down your cheeks as humiliation burned through you. He was wrong, Johnny's men hadn't spilled inside you, but the reality of what had happened seemed worse. They had spilled between your legs to make it more pleasant when their leader took you in the dirt. You wanted to defend yourself, to appeal to him, but he pressed the blade forward and your head met the bed with nowhere to go. The sting was horrible as you felt a trickle of blood run down the column of your throat.

“I'll not have a Scottish bastard running around my halls. My seed is more potent than his could ever hope to be, I'm going to flood his filthy cum out of you.”

You tried to bite out a plea when he moved the blade a hair back, enough that you could at least attempt to explain yourself if you spoke as softly as you could trying not to let your throat move. 

“Please I didn’t- he- I tried to fight,” you said, fighting the sob that would cause more damage to your neck.

He smiled. He smiled and it was the smile of something terrifying, something that had caught you in its snare. 

“You thanked him. He took what was mine and you thanked him for it, isn’t that right sweetheart?”

You felt a flood of fear. Johnny must have released at least one of the English soldiers who had seen what had been done to you. Had seen you drooling and throwing yourself back on to the enemies cock and crying thank yous to him. And had reported every single second of it back to the man above you, your intended husband. You had been caught fully in a lie, because you hadn’t fought, not really. Fear had you out of your mind at the time. It was half way to making you feel out of your mind now. He laughed darkly.

“Is that the expression you wore for him?”

You did sob then and it set off a chain reaction of the sharp of the blade nicking you which caused you to sob harder which did the same again. He looked fascinated with the blood dribbling down your skin, but his reactions were fast. When you got too overwhelmed and tried to look away, a movement that would have wound up slitting your own throat, he threw the blade to the side. The clatter of the metal made you flinch. 

One if his hands was on you then, grabbing your upper arm in a bruising grip to drag you to your feet, the twist of your spine from your hands being bound to the bedpost painful. Once you were on your feet he moved the hand to your hair, pushing until you were hugging the post, face crushed against it in a way you were sure would leave indents of the intricate pattern on the woodwork. 

His other hand went to bunching up your skirts, the coolness on bare skin making you realise with a sickening clarity that you had been put in a dress but with no undergarments. 

“Fucking hell, not only Scottish animals you get wet for is it?” he hissed, as you felt his gloved fingers swipe through your folds.

He brought his hand around then to skirt up your throat and then shoved the gloves fingers in your mouth, leather and blood and arousal swirling in your tongue and making you choke with how aggressively they made a home between your teeth. You felt like an animal having their mouth examined with how he bullied his fingers around inside, seemingly trying to make sure you could taste yourself. He ripped them out and grabbed your face between his thumb and pointer finger, twisted it around to look at him behind you.

“Go ahead, kiss your fiancé like you'd kiss that fucking Savage you've been bedding.”

Oh he scared you well and truly now with how he looked at you. There was the glimmer of a Sacrosanct madness about him, the holy surety that he would claim you body and soul from John MacTavish. You trembled before this force of divine fury, trying to quell it by pushing yourself to kiss him. 

For a moment in time he was the fiancé you had dreamt of. He let you press your lips to his and slowly lapped his tongue at your bottom lip for entrance, languid in his exploration once you permitted it. It struck you straight to your core when you realised he was licking the inside of your mouth to taste what he had forced there with his fingers, the clench of your cunt at the thought a humiliation. When his mouth left yours it was messy, saliva left on your swollen lips. He wrapped his hand around your throat, spreading the blood and seeming fascinated by it before he took the now blood smeared hand and slapped you so hard your ears were ringing. You would have crumpled to the floor if he did not have a leg planted between yours to keep your forced upright. 

“My Lord please, I-I-” you stuttered, not able to find any fight amongst the freeze when he manhandled you back around to be clinging to the bedpost, grabbing your hips and wrenching them back so you were bent over with him behind you. 

“You'll get your proper treatment as my Lady after sweetheart, right now you need to learn your fucking place.” 

Your skirts were fully flipped over your back, a rough palm keeping you bend fully at the waist so the fabric could drape and leave you exposed to him. You hated knowing he could see you were leaking between your legs, your body at odds with your mind. It was a sickly sweet sort of humiliating. You choked a shocked sob when with no ceremony his cock was out and shoved inside you. 

“Too full, t-too fast. Please- unf- please take it out!” you screamed, feeling like he was in your stomach. 

He only tsked, unmoved entirely by how you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to shift away, not able to with his hands holding you still. 

“Don't know what I expected, of course your traitor little cunt wouldn't be tight enough anymore. What was it he said? If you didn't keep your eyes open…”

You were confused about what he meant until he brutally ripped out of you and the hard head of him was rubbing at your arse, catching on the puckered hole. 

“Please please no I'll tear! My Lord, Lord Riley please I didn't mean it” you babbled, trying to claw into the bedpost to pull away but only being rewarded with such a sharp smack to your arse that you knew his handprint would be there for days.

“Y-you can't!” you screeched as he started to push inside you.

The press of him against your hole, the pop as his head finally pushed through the tight ring of muscle, it made your body try to fight against a danger it didn't know what to do with. You couldn't breathe, as if you were underwater and your brain would not allow you to gulp in a breath because it knew it would be lethal. 

You could barely choke in any oxygen at all as he started moving your hips back and forward on him, rocking his hot, hard cock more and more into your arse each time. He would break you surely, he would rip you in half. You could only make choked noises as you were stuffed more and more full. He smacked your arse again at that.

“Quit your bitching whore or next time I won't even do you the courtesy of having my men prep you. Find your fucking manners, say thank you” he said, an arrogant dominance rolling off if him in waves as he gave one particularly cruel thrust that had you crying out a thank you to please him.

“Manners my Lady” he snarled, punctuating his point with another spank that landed directly where you were already tender.

“T-thank you my Lord.”

“There she is, was that so difficult?” he asked with a horrid sweetness, thrusting hard into you again. “Lost all of your grace with that animal, don't worry, I'll fuck it back into you.”

The next thrust he bottomed out with a groan, holding still for a few breaths. It gave you time to try and adjust but it was an impossible task. He was too big, you were too tight, the stretch was too impossible. You were vaguely thankful that the ache you had felt waking up must have been because someone had already been playing with your arse. There was some slide, it wasn't so dry that you were being torn apart but it felt like a close thing. He leaned over you, his huge torso draped over yours. You could feel his sweaty face plastered to yours, the heat of his breath. He only said one word before he straightened back up, an innocent little word. But it terrified you none the less.

“Breathe.”

It was the only warning you got before he pulled out and slammed fully back into you. You felt far more brutalised as he drilled into you slow but incredibly hard in this plush room with the warm glowing embers of a fire and in a beautiful gown than you had being fucked in the dirt in the cold darkness in only your torn chemise.

His pace was torture, not fast enough to keep the pain a consistent thing you could anticipate, not slow enough to allow your insides to adjust to his impossible size. Your brain went fuzzy with every hard and deep piston of his hips. That one word was something you clung to like a prayer. Breathe. He pulled out to the tip. Breathe. He slammed back in all the way to the root. Breathe. He held there and your muscles fluttered around him, seemingly confused as to whether this was an intrusion or welcomed now that his own slick and whatever they had prepared you with while you were knocked out was mixed and making the slide smoother, making each rough thrust squelch loudly. Breathe. The drag of him slowly pulling back out made your cunt clench so hard it was nauseating. Breathe. 

You could never quite fully catch your breath, always just on the edge of feeling like you were suffocating. You suddenly wished he would at least talk to you. Johnny was never able to stop, always saying something filthy in your ear so you could at least focus on that and not hear your own desperate panting, the sticky snap of sweaty skin on sweaty skin. It was painful, a pain that dangled pleasure in front of you, always just out of reach. You were chasing it, pushing back in the hopes that the heavy weight of him would bump against your clit. It only ever served to add the sharp smack of hand on flesh to the noises. 

He did not provide any warning before he sped up, suddenly rutting into you with none of the control he had kept until now. You forgot that word, forgot everything in favour of biting down on the wood of the bedpost to stop from screaming your throat raw. 

And then you saw stars as his throbbing cock was pulled out of your arse and in your cunt finally instead, deep. He pushed your hips until you were standing straight, his cock spearing up into you deeper than you thought possible. He brought a hand round to play roughly with your clit.

“Milk me.”

There was no room for refusal as you came, bearing down on him hard. The scalding heat of his seed spilling into you felt like some twisted form of divine justice for what you had done, how you had begun to feel about the Savage. There was so much of it, a biblical flood to wipe away the stain he saw left in you. His chest was plastered to your back, his hot breath puffing over the side of your hair. 

“Good girl. Knew a proper English lady was still in there didn't I? Just had to exorcise the whore MacTavish put inside you.”

Your head was so fuzzy. Your body throbbed with pain and the flush of a devastating orgasm. You whimpered pathetically when he eventually pulled out, fingering the leaking cum gently back into your oversensitive pussy. 

“I'll get a plug for you, you'd like that hm? Keep my seed nice and safe inside your little cunt.”

You drifted then, drifted to somewhere else. You didn't know that you nodded, that you were pliant and soft for him as he undressed you fully and took you to a bath. It was all like there was a pleasantly weighted fog over your senses as he fed you, rubbed oils into you, dressed you for bed and climbed in behind you like a lover. Like Johnny.

-

“Sir, we've tried. It's like she wisnae ever here tae begin with. Nae trace of whoever took her. Whoever it is, they're a ghost.”

Johnny barked out a bitter, manic sort of laugh. 

“A ghost aye? Fucking Riley.”

“Garrick and Price were spotted naw far frae the border just this morn, if it was him that took her then he's naw far.”

“Cannae imagine so, why take himself a pretty prize unless he intends tae dangle it in front of me.”

“Orders sir?”

“Get me information. Going tae take her back obviously. Fuck the Scottish back in tae her if she's lost her way.”

And this time he'd made sure it fucking stuck even if he had to carve his fucking name into your skin to prove who you belonged to. 

[sreppub]

Bruce can’t help but be the funniest bitch in the room even if he isn’t real!

so true.... he was so savage sometimes. Dick has Problems.

[srslyscary]

SANZU BONTEN HEADCANONS

| Contents: General headcanons, relationship headcanons SFW , reader is written as she/her but can be considered gn, mentions of guns/weapons

General Headcanons

# he's actually bipolar asf. like can't make up his mind for shit.

# "babe i love youuuu !" then 5 minutes later "get away from me ?!" Like bitch make up your mind tf?

# idk why but I could definitely see Sanzu being Russian. He just gives off those vibes. he'll call you russian nicknames it actually makes your heart swell the way he says it.

# he'll talk about his katana all day and there's no way to shut him up after.

# i could definitely see him as the type to listen to 21 savage or nicki minaj. don't ask why but i can see it.

# he's an asshole in public but a total baby in private. can't get shit done around him when you two are alone. and he's not being a horny fuck, he just wants your attention and most fucking days you don't pay any attention to him.

# "baby baby baby baby-" "goddamnit- WHAT HARU?" ... "love youuuu !" "get away from me"

# has had 2 TikTok accounts, but they got banned because all he would post was him killing people. he's made like 3 other accounts but hasn't posted on anything yet.

# sometimes when you guys are in public he'll act like hes so tough until you get up all in his face with the scariest aura ever.

# weirdly enough he hates being touched on his hips because he very ticklish.

# loves when you kiss his scars and tell them everything you love about them.

# if he had the chance to get a million dollars just to punch you, he would probably would do it. then he'd ask if he could punch you again to get more money.

# sometimes gets way too high to put his shoes on correctly. you have to sit there and tell him that his shoes are on the wrong feet and he won't realize that until he goes to a bonten meeting and everyone laughs at him.

# heart eyes when you sleep, he's like a creepy stalker.

# "haru why are you in my room it's 4 in the morning-" "shut up and here, i just brought you some flowers." "Haru those are cattail plants."

# he isn't the brightest bulb in the room but can definitely tell when you're ignoring him.

# he was stupid enough to try and cook breakfast for everyone and nearly burned down the bonten estate. no one trusted him in the kitchen ever again.

# his unofficial love language is being annoying. He would ask "would you still love me if I was a worm" and whatnot.

# he’s terrible with spending. I feel like he’s never actually been financially smart aside from when he was a younger so DO expect to see him carrying a box of some guns imported from China or smth.

[imaginationmess]

Vampire Hcs (Micheal Kaiser, Yoichi Isagi, Reo Mikage, Seishiro Nagi)

Word Count: 2.6k+

Thank you to @akaza-s-bitch, Maddy for proofreading this giant mess of headcanons. 

Disclaimer: There are different conversions, venom, and blood in their system. 

Vampire!Michael Kaiser 

Once upon a time, Michael was held captive but was given the option of becoming a vampire. He took the offer because there was nothing that would’ve held him back. He wanted to be powerful instead of being weak. However, he does despise being ordered around. 

There was a period of time when he and Isagi hunted together, which was when they were freshly turned into vampires by the same person. Both came to an agreement to eliminate their creator for different reasons. Their creator wouldn’t have expected him to backstab them because he was loyal and respectful, unlike Isagi. 

“I am my own master.” 

He does enjoy being a monster because no one can order him around. He feels powerful and wouldn’t give up this sense of superiority for anything in the world. He is immortal with the exception of supernatural hunter weapons and herbs. He isn’t immune to those by default. He can build up a tolerance to them but they could still kill him. 

Michael is terrifyingly good at luring anyone with his charms and looks alone. He is also the type to play with his food (humans) because he likes to work for it. He likes his prey being terrified because it just makes the reward that much greater and sweeter. To him, the blood of his prey tastes much better when they are terrified. He is very sadistic about it. 

He would roleplay different sorts of people for entertainment. He would sometimes use his victim's identities as an alias. 

He has terrifyingly good senses and purposely acts like a fool. He will think of it as a sort of intense game of cat and mouse. He is also responsible for the deaths of many talented hunters.  

He is one of the scariest vampires to get interested in you. He is a very persistent individual. He wouldn’t give up on trying to make you fall in love with him. 

He also seems to be the type to be into the vampire x hunter romance trope because a hunter knows how to deal with his kind and annihilate him. Kaiser likes living on the edge, it brings a sense of entertainment to his otherwise boring life. It keeps him on his toes and he loves it. And yes he would think it's a love confession if you tried to take his head when you tried to get on his level of seduction. 

When you are in a relationship with him, he would purposely drag his fangs against your skin, preferably your wrist and neck, and other sensitive places in order to watch in amusement when goosebumps appear. He loves seeing you shiver at the sensations that he caused you. 

He can get very handsy and seems to always need to have some sort of connection with you. How else could he protect you from the other creatures walking around in disguise? 

He can be very possessive of and clingy towards his lover. 

He does have the secret wish of finding his match, who would love and join in on his shenanigans. He wants a partner who would get bored just as easily as him to be able to constantly find different ways of entertainment. Someone who would accept and love him for who he is, including his savage self. Someone who will keep him on his toes and can keep up with him. The possibilities of his significant other: his match could be a human, a vampire or a different species. 

Vampire!Yoichi Isagi

Yoichi was held captive and his transformation was most likely a case of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. He was given the option to turn into a vampire, however, it was merely the illusion of having an option. Ultimately, he was turned into a vampire against his will. 

He hated himself and would starve himself very often. He would have died multiple times if he hadn’t been forced to feed. These events caused him to have pure hatred toward his sire, his creator. This was also the case for the sire, who’d expected Isagi to be nothing more than a coward before them in submission.

Instead, Yoichi became his creator’s demise. He annihilated his creator and it was a bloody mess. It also fed into his reputation among other vampires from the older class to be terrified, but also led them to be intrigued by how this fresh vampire had so viciously committed the act of killing his creator. He devoured his creator, causing him to be stronger than he was before. 

There was a long period of time during which he was completely savage and not didn’t care who he ended up pissing off. Kaiser and he hunted together during their time as newbies. Terrifyingly enough, they balanced each other out perfectly. Eventually, though, they separated from each other. 

He caused himself to become a bounty on his head because he had rapidly climbed up the food chain, purely by accident. It wasn’t intentional on his part. He became worth a lot of money within both the hunter and vampire realms because he had killed humans and vampires alike without any sort of mercy. However, there was a visible behavioral pattern whenever he killed: it wasn’t impulsive killings of random strangers, more like calculated attacks.

He eventually does reflect on the past and has some regrets about when he was in his savage phase. He strives to be better now.

He is also the first one to befriend a hunter, who was a vampire as well: Rin Itoshi. It was an unusual friendship, but they remained close. At the time, Isagi majorly was his informant because he was everywhere and had more connections than the hunter. 

He did develop white highlights through his dark blue hair due to trauma when he was a newbie, ever since then it's been growing like that. He was starting to like the look of his hair. 

It took a long time for Isagi to accept himself as a vampire. It’s part of the reason why Rin and he got along with each other. Isagi could empathize with Rin since it wasn’t his choice to be like this either. 

He often hunts in the woods for food but also makes money because he was the son of a hunter. Nothing goes to waste. It is also how he met Seishiro Nagi. 

He would often visit the company of his friend Reo, who runs a blood bank for the supernatural who need blood to survive. He pays each blood donor, and Isagi just needs to pay a fee to get blood bags. 

Yoichi took a page from Kaiser's book to roleplay as a human out of boredom. It's most likely how he found his lover, through work or the place he frequented most of the time. 

If you are human, he will keep the facade up as long as possible. It’s either he comes out to you when he is ready to further down the line or when he is forced to reveal his vampire side to you in order to keep you safe. 

He is the type to fall in love hard and get protective over you regardless of whether you can take care of yourself or not. You could be a vampire, a demon, or any different species. 

It's worse if you are human though because the constant worry hangs over his head. He has made a lot of enemies throughout his time as a vampire and doesn’t want anything to happen to you. 

He would fall in love with you even more if you saw his vampire self and accepted him for who he is.

If you are a human around a supernatural creature, he may get territorial and overprotective because he knows they are most likely looking for food.

Overall, he is literally like your guard dog, especially if you are a human in a supernatural environment. 

Vampire!Reo Mikage 

Reo comes from a pure bloodline of royal vampires that have lived for many centuries and generations. He is considered a prince to the present day within the vampire realm. He comes from old money and has many estates under his name. He moves around a lot and sometimes uses a fake name. If he ever returns to the same area he has lived in before, he will lie on the spot claiming to be a descendant of the Mikage. 

He has been taught to have good control over his bloodlust. It lessens his chances of losing control and exposing himself. He learns how to blend in with the humans, lowering his chances even further in order to not be on the hunters’ radar. 

In the beginning, he eventually only left the estate because he couldn’t bear with it anymore: He felt suffocated by his family, especially his parents. During this time, he kept wandering from one place to another and eventually met Seishiro Nagi, a farmer. Nagi let him follow him around as long as Reo helped him with his daily chores. Nagi wasn’t treating him like royalty, so he was a fascinating human to Reo, an enigma.

By pure accident, Nagi became his first creation. Nagi was immune to royal vampire compulsion and eventually became stronger than Reo himself. He was intrigued but also scared of what Nagi was capable of. 

They did have a rough patch where Nagi did cut ties with Reo for a bit, but they eventually reunited with mutual friends. The separation did them well. It is now very rare to see the duo being separated, and even if they are, the other is always close by. 

Reo founded a business: a blood bank, which Nagi was the co-owner of. Nagi was the one who came up with the concept and Reo brought it to life. It was a blood bank where supernatural creatures could buy blood bags with no questions asked, as long as they paid the fee. It was a successful business, the company eventually branched out to sell other species' blood in exchange for money. 

It was successful because Reo paid good money for humans to come and donate a bag of blood, even more so if they were a different species. The company staff was mixed, there were both supernatural creatures and humans. Reo paid his workers very well, it was the best place to work at because of the work-life balance it provided in combination with the high salary. 

He would donate human blood to various hospitals to avoid suspicion from his human workers and outsiders. 

He does have professional relationships with other companies that are owned by creatures such as himself. This is the reason why he has the creature secretary separated from the human one because he would like to avoid having fragile humans in the crossfire in case a business deal goes sideways. The human secretary only deals with human-owned companies. 

Overall, Reo is a very wealthy man with many talents. He is the owner of very successful businesses and keeps up with the time of the market. 

Reo has a higher chance of falling in love with one of the workers in one of his own businesses, especially if you have dealt with him and know him personally. He is very aware that he is a piece of work and a high-maintenance individual. You would catch his eye especially when you don’t let him have his way with you, even if he is your boss. He likes someone who isn’t afraid of him and able to hold their own. 

He likes working for your love. If you have feelings for him and don't want to date him because he is your boss, he will offer to get you a spot at Nagi’s video game company, “Hassle”. He will make it work if he is genuinely interested in you, working out the obstacles between the two of you.

He is also one of the scariest vampires to get interested in you. He is a very persistent and determined man, and he wouldn’t give up until you fell in love with him as well. You are going to fall in love with him, one way or another. 

Vampire!Seishiro Nagi 

Seishiro becoming a vampire was by pure accident. Reo fed on him and healed his wounds to avoid suspicion, which is why he had Reo’s blood running through his system when he died. He was a farmer before turning into this creature. 

Seishiro cut him off because Reo was constantly on his back and treating him like an experiment ever since realizing that his compulsion didn’t work on Nagi. He knows that Reo is secretly terrified of him.

Nagi is beyond strong both physically and mentally, so even when he was younger when it came to this life, there were multiple occasions where he had gone head to head with the elderly vampires. What he was lacking was experience, and how to use his skills effectively to their full potential. 

Nagi often stole from humans. It is how he met Yoichi Isagi, a vampire a few years older than him after conversion. Nagi didn’t like working for his food, so he ended up stealing others’ hunts, but that time he didn’t realize it was actually another vampire that was disguising their scent as a human’s. It was surprising for Nagi to see Isagi chasing him and aiming at him with his hunting weapon when Nagi attempted to steal a bear from him.

Seishiro met different people who became his friends in the same forest he had taken a liking to because it was peaceful and there were plenty of animals to hunt for food. Seishiro was good at replicating noises from other species out of boredom. He howled on a full moon night, causing a lone werewolf to appear only for the two to stare at each other in silence. Neither of them was suspecting the other. A vampire howling perfectly like a werewolf. Nagi did have to come to an agreement with an older werewolf, who also lived in the enormous forest, on sharing it. 

He has learned a lot from the different people he has encountered during his time in the forest. Eventually, Reo and he made up. 

Nagi is a co-owner of a blood bank company, along with Reo. He himself created a video game company under the name “Hassle”. He was getting bored with the games that were already out and wanted something harder to beat. He did manage to create the kind of games he wanted and gained a reputation for players like him, who wanted challenging and harder games. Hassle does offer your normal typical game levels, but it does provide the option of buying a harder version, in which it is more complex to beat and finish the game. 

He is also a professional gamer on the side, and often received offers to advertise them. He will be the most honest and blunt person giving his review for an opinion on a game. 

He is most likely to fall in love with a fellow gamer through collaborations, with someone at his job or even working underneath Reo’s company. You have to be someone special that stands out in some way in order to catch Nagi’s eye. 

If you are human dating him, he wouldn’t even try to hide that he was a bloodsucker. He would warn you to not drink from his bottle because there is blood inside. If you didn’t listen, that's your fault. 

Overall, he requires a lot of patience to deal with in order to build and maintain a good relationship with him. 

Thank you for reading!

Comments or Tags are appreciated.

[splickedylit]

Winter Soldier Gamkar has hit 100K words and 6 completed chapters and a whole lot of supernatural bullshit and Reminding My Traumatized Boyfriend What Kindness Is nonsense. Thanks to the co-writer groupchat for reading the first draft and 1. convincing me not to half-ass my scene planning, and 2. helping me figure out Karkat's Whole Deal, lol. Clandestine military experiments.....a comic book classic...

--

You don’t know what the thing you were fused with used to be.  You call it the Cancer, in your head, to yourself, but some part of you knows it’s a whole fucking lot older than the concept of names.  It died so long ago, there wasn’t a word for death yet. 

Any of its corpse that washes up into your reality is just skeletal detritus; the assholes who experimented on you couldn’t find any consciousness to bore into your skull like the Scratch did to Feferi and Eridan.  They had to fuse it into your flesh to wring power out of its remains, and it’s only through some hideous joke of luck that it took and you’re still alive to bitch about it. 

It could be worse.  You could be a rotted, mangled corpse in an unmarked grave.

They’d almost seemed surprised that you were pissed, when you found out about that little wrinkle after the fact.  You regret a lot of shit in your life, but savaging the asshole who changed you—who killed dozens of stupid kids before you—isn’t one of them.

You don’t know who has it worse, really.  Feferi and Eridan don’t show much sign from the outside that anything was even done to them—but for all the double-takes you get on the street, you don’t have to listen to voices and whispers.  There’s no living, scheming forces trying to push you to do anything, there’s just a vast, echoing emptiness in the back of your head.  Sometimes when you sleep, you find yourself in the place where it lives—or where it died.  An endless, quiet walk through an empty shell the size of a thousand cathedrals, rotting and half-consumed.

[marsstyles]

Love Language

Zilla Fatu + Serene Savage (OC)

Needin’ you to talk to me in you love language

Show me, yeah, how to connect to you

Help me understand how you speak your love language…

Talk to me in your love language

Show me, yeah, how to connect to you

Help me understand how to speak you love language

- Love Language by SZA

CW: Cursing, mentions of friends with benefits, 18+, a little bit of fluff

Blue Highlight: Serene’s thoughts

Author’s Note: Hi guys! I wanted to post this chapter next week, but since tonight is Zilla’s fight with Booker T, I thought it would be the perfect day to release Chapter 2. I hope ya’ll like it!💜

Chapter 2

Sometime in the afternoon….

After practicing in the ring with Fallon, Serene heads down the hallway to find a water fountain to fill up her tumbler as she finished the water towards the end of the practice. Unknown to Serene, she was being followed by someone behind her. Once she reaches to the fountain and takes off the cap of her tumbler to fill it with water, a voice stopped her from turning on the fountain. “Well, shiiit. I come here as a new member to the roster and Ion get no special welcome from you. How fucking rude, ma,” a deep, Houston accent voice sarcastically said.

Fuck, Fuck, Fuck! Of course he followed me. He always found a way to get to me by myself, in order to talk to me. Typical. Looks like some things haven’t change. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, before opening her eyes and slowly turning to her left to see the source of the voice. And there he was, Zilla Fatu. Serene rolls her eyes and changes her voice to a fake, cheerful one, “Hiii, welcome to NXT. Hope you have an amazing time here. We’re so glad to have you!”, she sarcastically exclaimed, before dropping her smile and turning towards the fountain to start filling up her tumbler.

Zilla rolled his eyes and sucked his teeth, noting the sarcasm of that “welcome”. He knew that she was not happy to see him, especially after how they left things off a year and half ago. “Come on ma, you are still mad at me, even after a year and half. I thought we moved past this shit.”, Zilla said.

Serene scoffed as she was finishing up filling up her water. After closing up her tumbler, she turned towards him, looking more annoyed at his presence. “I would’ve loved to have moved on from what we had,” she pointed between them, “but unfortunately, seeing your face again just brought everything I’ve had tried to suppress and forget about ever since I came here.,” she said, taking a step closer to him. “When I said that I never wanted to see your bitch ass again, I really meant that shit.”, she said coldly, with a serious look on her face, staring into his eyes.

She starts walking away from him, but he grabs her wrist to stop and turn her around to face him. She yanks her wrist away from his grasp and puts her hand on her hip. “What?!”, she asked, irritated that he stopped her. She really wants to get out this space she feels trapped in with him. Zilla looks down with his hands inside his sweater pockets, swaying side to side and hesitating about what to say next, which was new for Serene to see.

“Look, I’m sorry for playin’ with your feelings like that. It’s just…,” he paused, biting his lip that shows his top grill. “It’s just, what?”, Serene asked, growing impatient as her time is getting wasted being with him. He looks down and takes a deep breath, before looking up at her, “It’s just that…I never expected to fall for you during our time together.”, he admitted.

Serene raised her eyebrows in shock, but tried to keep her expression neutral, after hearing his confession. “Bullshit. I don’t believe you.”, she scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. Interesting that he says that now. Where was this energy when I confronted him the first time? “Did you feel that way before or after you told me that you had no interest in furthering our relationship?”, she asked, pressing him.“‘Cause if I remember correctly, you said that the reason you did all of those lovey dovey gestures was to get me ‘horny’ because we were just ‘fucking’.”, she said, throwing his quotes back at him.

Zilla grimaced. “Whatchu talkin about? I didn’t say any of that shit.”, he stated defensively. Serene let out a loud “HA” after hearing him say that. Is he being fucking for real? Ain’t no way he’s trying to gaslight me again. As if I don’t remember anything he said. “Nah, I know you fucking lying, Zilla. There was a reason why I came over to your place that day and confront you about everything because you were doing shit that a boyfriend would do for his girl, which was hella confusing to me.”, she explained firmly, recalling the day she went to confront him about his feelings for her.

As Zilla stood there in silence, rubbing his chin and having his eyes wonder, Serene is unsure about what he is thinking since it’s so hard to read him. He always has this neutral expression, despite it making him look mad, when in reality he isn’t. Serene used to tell him that he has RBF (Resting Bitch Face) and he would laugh and tell her to “shut up” because he hated whenever she would point it out to him or to anyone else that would ask. Even though she had knew him prior to being friends with benefits with him, she still finds it difficult to know or understand how to read him, which frustrates her.

She rolls her eyes and lets out a sigh, “Yo, I can’t read your thoughts, uce. Can you answer the question, please? Was it before or after you told me that you had no interest in furthering the relationship?”, she asked, getting annoyed that he is being reluctant to give her answers.

His face shifted, looking more annoyed, scrunching his eyebrows. “Yo, give me a sec! I’m trying to think, uce!”, he said, rubbing his hands over his face, in frustration. Serene rubs her temples, in disbelief that he can’t answer a simple question. She takes a deep breath and puts her hands on her hips, then looks at him. She doesn’t know what to do with him, after everything. It just drains her energy out because it feels like she needs to pull his teeth in order to get something out of him.

As Zilla was about to open his mouth to answer, a female crew member came over to where they were standing, breaking the silence. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we’re about to start the show soon. Serene you have to get ready for the show and Mr. Fatu, Mr. Michaels would like to see you to discuss about your debut tonight.”, she said. Both Serene and Zilla replied with a “okay” and a “thank you”, before the crew member walked away, leaving them alone once again.

After she left, they both looked at each other as an awkward tension was building between them. Serene looks down, biting her lip, as she feels Zilla staring at her. She almost feels scared to even look up at him because she knows how intense his brown eyes would stare at her at this moment. She hesitates, but slowly starts looking up and sees him staring at her, which was making her knees feel weak enough and her heart pounding out of her chest. God, as much as I hate seeing him again and no matter how much he has pushed my buttons, I do miss the way he used to stare at me. His eyes still get me. Every. Single. Time.

She sees Zilla walking closer to her and she wants to walk away to head back to the locker room, but she fails to move as if her feet were stuck to the floor. Once he got close to her and there was small gap between them, Zilla raised his hand and grabbed her chin to lift her head up so she could look at him.

Serene’s eyes were staring into his brown ones, feeling the intensity that was coming off from them, as she was holding in her breath. Even though he didn’t let some words come out of his mouth, she can see that he was trying to say some things with his eyes. Was it love? Was it lust? Was it regret? There were so many things that could be said from his eyes, but she couldn’t read them clearly. However, what she does know, is that will have to wait after the show.

She breaks the stare, drops his hand from her chin, and clears her throat, “Um, she’s right. I have to get ready and prepare for my match tonight. I can’t lose focus when there’s a title on the line.”, she says, unable to look at him. She had found the ability to move her feet off the floor as she starts to walk away from him, backwards while still looking at him. Zilla looks dejected for a little bit, but then switches to his cocky attitude. “Yeah. Yeah, you betta getcho ass out of here and get ready. Or else your fine ass will be leavin’ tonight with no gold.”, he said, biting his lip and smirking at her, easing down the tension that they had previously.

Serene stopped and rolled her eyes, scrunching her face and biting her tongue to prevent her from smiling after that comment. “Thanks for the advice.” she said, sarcastically. “Don’t worry though, Imma make sure that I leave tonight with some gold. It’s time for the Siren to shine like a champion that she is!”, she affirmed, confidently as she waved her hands in the air in a shape of a rainbow, envisioning her win tonight.

Zilla chuckled and grinned at her, showing the grills that she really loved and missed. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”, he said, waving her off, “Nah, but you betta win, uce! Now, go!”, he yelled. Serene turned around to start walking, but then Zilla stopped her again to wish her luck. Now this time, she couldn’t help, but make a small smile at him. “Thanks. And good luck with your debut tonight. Welcome to NXT.”, she said, before turning around and starts walking away again.

“OH, so NOW you wanna give me a special welcome!,” he screamed at her, as she continues walking, pretending to ignore him. “Oh, so you tryna be funny now, huh?! Ight bet! You wanna be funny, I can be hilarious! Just wait til after the show!”, he yelled, as she rolls her eyes, but grins without turning around to him and continues walking down the hallway.

Author’s note: I hope ya’ll enjoyed the chapter! Good luck to Zilla on his match with Booker T and I hope he gives Booker the triple Zs lol. Chapter 3 will be coming in the next few days, I just have to proofread it and maybe edit some things. 💜

Divider design: @diviniyae

[brynnsasha191]

Something I've been feeling has become a trend for the past few years in Movies/Shows is this need for every single villain to have a sad backstory or redemption arc to make the audience justify their horrible actions all in the name of "complexity" and "nuance", and while it's a good thing sometimes and gives us very interesting characters there's a point where the actions they try to justify by giving the villains sad backstories are outright disgusting.

There's no way on earth I could ever ever ever defend and support a rapist character, it doesn't matter if he has the saddest backstory ever, I genuinely can not do it, the way people make Aegon be this sad boy victim neglected by his parents and that's the reason he is why he is, fuck no!

It makes me sick to my stomach when I see other women online say "my baby is just a victim of the system" you dumb bitch, he perpetuates the system himself!!! He had his own children fighting on cages like animals, who knows how many of those children were the product of rape given how he got away with raping the maid after Alicent forced her to drink the moon tea and not tell anyone, it gave him permission to do it freely over and over again, that's why I hate Alicent as much as I hate him, she's a disgusting person that doesn't deserve to be seen as a victim either, she refused to marry her only daughter to a guy she knew would treat her a million times better and instead chose to marry her to her rapist son just so she could strengthen his claim to the throne, subjecting Helaena to the same cycle of abuse she endured. Fuck her and fuck her rapist son and fuck everyone who supports them.

YES. ON SO MANY LEVELS, YES. I've said multiple times before, in regards to another fandom but it's true all around, that I'm so sick of the villain with a tragic back story trope. I'm sick of it, I hate it. Stop making excuses for abusers, having trauma doesn't give anyone an excuse to put more trauma back into the world. Every single villain these days has a tragic backstory and I'm done with it. Aegon and Alicent are not poor abused babies, they are abuser villains.

It also seriously pisses me off when people say that Alicent married Helaena to Aegon because she was a traumatized baby who just wanted some control over keeping her daughter safe, as if Viserys didn't want to marry Helaena to a gentle and good boy. Alicent may see them as savages but at least they aren't rapists who pay to watch children fight to the death. Helaena would've been happy with Jace. And at least in the show it's obvious to me that Helaena has love for Aegon but it's a very toxic and one sided love.

As much as I love Luena and Jacela, if anyone had a brain they would've married Jace to Helaena, Luke to Baela, and Rhaena to Aemond or Aegon (maybe not that one because Rhaena deserves better) but instead Alicent married Helaena to a boy who even she claimed had a habit of drowning in cups, not looking out for family, and was short sighted. When Aegon raped Dyana, Alicent gives Helaena a big hug in a boohoo-we're-both-poor-women-suffering-at-the-hands-of-men way. As if Alicent hadn't gotten greedy and married her daughter to a rapist to spite her husband and step daughter.

You're completely right. Aegon is an abuser who deserves no sympathy whatsoever. He's a wealthy man who has been allowed to get away with everything, his entire life. But he had slightly neglectful parents so boo hoo he gets to make women and children suffer while his mother enables it. And people say that if he wasn't neglected then he wouldn't have been like that....😐 really??? We're using the nature vs nurture argument for a rapist? It shouldn't matter, he's still a disgusting rapist. Stop defending him or his mother

Aemond is a child murder and a kinslayer, Daeron is a war criminal, Aegon is a rapist. Funny how the only crimes the daughters of Viserys I ever committed was being women.

[sandersontheside]

Assigning a Pop Diva To Each Side

Based on the common trend of queer men all having a "diva" that they stan. I know not all mlm relate to that, but I do! See if you can guess which one is mine ;)

JANUS: It's Britney, bitch! I'm pretty sure Britney Spears actually wrote Toxic about him. But sure Janus has been toxic in the past, dangerous to listen to even, but how was he supposed to know that something wasn't right? Would you hold it against him? And let us not forget the iconic 2001 VMAs performance of I'm A Slave 4 U featuring a huge, yellow snake.

REMUS: Put your paws up, little monsters. It's gotta be Lady Gaga for the Duke. He wants your ugly, he wants your disease, and he may be a freak, but baby, he was born this way. Plus, her whole brand used to be weird and off-putting. You know he was obsessed with that dress made of raw meat, and the alien egg music video, and the borderline body horror Born This Way cover.

ROMAN: He's a theatre gay, so probably, his chosen diva would actually be, like, Patti LuPone or something. But I am restricting this to pop diva. And none suits a prince like a queen! His pop diva just has to be Beyonce. Who runs the world? This bootylicious prince does! And you bet your ass he knows the Single Ladies dance off by heart, and will do it at the drop of a hat.

LOGAN: Megan Thee Stallion. It had to be a rapper, and given that Megan is such a champion of education, setting up scholarships and finishing her degree even after her career success, it seemed like a perfect match. Plus, we all know Logan can be [checks notecard] savage, at times. I just hope he can relax enough to enjoy a well deserved hot girl summer.

PATTON: Patton's entire Spotify is pop girlies, from Mariah Carey to Olivia Rodrigo, from the summer bops to the sad laments. Picking a favorite for him was difficult. But ultimately, it had to be Miss Swift herself, because if there is one thing that Taylor is good at, it is tapping into nostalgia. And whether it's a past relationship or an old favorite song, Patton remembers it all too well.

VIRGIL: The closest Virgil gets to pop is pop punk, pop rock, and alt pop. Which means the closest thing to a pop diva Virgil has is probably Hayley Williams of Paramore. Sure, Virgil can be angsty and even mean sometimes—misery is literally his business, after all—but he has a softer side as well, and deep down he hopes that one day all of it will be worth the risk.

[ominous-faechild]

SEMICORRECT QUOTES:

HIDDEN WIP

Veritheya: (mournfully) “On that day, 500 years ago, I lost my sweetest daughter, Eve, to those savage, heartless faeries...”

Achilles: (from afar) “QUIT TELLING EVERYONE I'M DEAD!”

Veritheya: “Sometimes... I almost think I hear her voice.”

Achilles: “AND STOP CALLING ME A FUCKING WOMAN!”

Veritheya: (slightly more aggressively and pointedly) “Then I realize there's no way she'd say any of those things, and that she never sounded anything like that, anyway.”

Achilles: (irritably, to himself) “And this bitch wonders why I disowned her and sold my soul to {Ailwyn} for safekeeping.”

Marri: (aghast) “Wait, she does?”

Achilles: (exasperatedly) “Yep. SOMEHOW!”

Veritheya: (a bit more loudly) “And that, my flock, is why you can never trust the fae, or fae-touched.”

Achilles: (under his breath) “Seriously, I don't know how so few people see through that garbage...”

Everything taglist: @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet @illarian-rambling @ashirisu @urnumber1star

@the-letterbox-archives @48lexr @aalinaaaaaa @thecomfywriter @an-indecisive-nerd

@seastarblue @rae-butter

Divider by @saradika

[16sydd16]

Not the original asker, but I’m new to the cadina fandom and now I’m curious about the ever-prevalent fallen angel AU that the cadina bitches kick around sometimes.

For this ask game!

Hi new person! We're so happy to have you! The Cadina bitches can't help but think about three things: 1) A woman putting her canine teeth in the side of my neck; 2) Cadina height difference, which is only like 5 inches in actuality, but it looks like a foot (which we love); 3) Fallen Angel AU. Okay, that's a little dramatic, but the collective brainrot about Fallen Angel!Regina is so real! For all of the obsessive thinking we do, we don't have a ton of concrete ideas about this. Here's five that have infected my brain!

Fallen Angel Regina dresses like an angel for a college halloween party in an attempt at irony. She hopes the big, judgmental man upstairs appreciates her humor, but she knows he won't. Though she's lost all of the perks of being an angel, she still takes her responsibilities pretty seriously. She spends her Friday and Saturday nights at local college parties, watching out for predators spiking drinks or making moves on girls who are far too drunk to say yes to anything. The first time she meets Cady Heron, she's laying on the frathouse lawn on Halloween night. She'd laid down to look at the stars before realizing she was too drunk to stand back up on her own. Regina lays next to her for a few minutes at Cady's insistence (Cady yanks Regina onto the ground when Regina offers her a hand up) and makes sure she gets home safe.

Cady talks Regina into staying until she falls asleep, but Regina is gone by the time she wakes. Cady spends the next two weeks searching student records, but it's tough, because she doesn't have much to go on besides "hot blonde angel who rescues drunk girls." She tries putting that in the student database, but it doesn't work.

Regina may not still have her angelic powers, but she does have her angelic beauty and a wicked right hook. Many men who have gotten too close to her have learned this the hard way.

The first time Cady sees the angry, raised scars on Regina's otherwise flawless back, she can't help but reach out to touch them. Regina wakes the instant she feels Cady's hands on her, the tender touch still painful to her damaged skin. She yells at Cady, screams, tries to push her away. Cady apologizes, gently strokes her shoulder and her cheek and her hair until Regina can't be mad at Cady. She can only be mad at herself, and the pain she's caused. She collapses into Cady's arms, and Cady holds her while she cries. Cady asks if Regina has those scars because she was hit by a bus or something. Regina hesitates before telling Cady the truth. That she's a fallen angel, and that her wings were savagely ripped from her back for her "crimes." Cady doesn't say anything at first. She just keeps stroking Regina's hair.

Later, much later, Cady jokes about how she always knew Regina was something ethereal. That Regina was too beautiful to be human. Regina asks if Cady always thought she was an angel, if the costume was a dead giveaway. Cady admits that vampire was actually her first guess, because Regina has a real Rosalie Hale kind of vibe. Regina scoffs and rolls her eyes and tries to get up. Cady Refuses to move from her lap. (Regina could push her off, but she doesn't. Won't. She used to think getting kicked out of heaven was the worst fate someone could suffer. Now, she knows being kicked out of Cady Heron's embrace would be the real hell.)

Thanks so much for the ask!!

[blackaleycatt]

Random Wild Kratts Headcanons: Megan Thee Stallion Songs

Songs that I think the characters would like or songs that represent them because I love Megan.

Y'all better stream Hiss!

Martin: Ungrateful

Everyone knows that Martin is a nice man. Even the villains know it.

Sometimes it seems like he's a little too nice tho. Like the villains definitely take advantage of it.

Martin can be a nice person but when you mess with animals, his friends, or his brother he can become a different person.

I think the lyrics “Y'all actin' really ungrateful, I'm sparin' you hoes” represent this.

I feel like he could be a lot more violent towards the villains but chooses not to.

Basically, he is sparing the villains despite everything they have done to the team and the villains are “ungrateful” because they constantly act the same way.

Chris: Savage

His sassy attitude fits this song well.

It doesn't matter if it's a villain or his own brother. That lil sassy attitude is always gonna be there.

I feel like he would actually call himself a savage after listening to this song.

“Been that bitch, still that bitch”

And he literally is. Not only has Wild Kratts been around a long time, but Chris has been iconic since Kratt’s creatures and Zooboomafu have been around.

Koki: Plan B

This song is about Independence and having a high self-worth.

Koki definitely has all of that.

She's technically a minor character but she leaves a big impact on the team and the show in general.

Also, I feel like a lot of the time she’s the team's “Plan B” meaning when there's a problem that the boys or Aviva can't fix she has to step in.

Usually involving the miniaturizer because they never listen when she tells them to keep up with it.

She’s like the only other person on the team with a fully functioning brain cell.

Jimmy: Hot Girl Summer

This was THE summer song so you know Jimmy was listening to it.

Probably says “It's hot girl summer” every year to Aviva and Koki.

The chill vibe of the song matches his personality.

I can see him lounging in the sun bobbing his head to this song.

I don't really have a deep reason for why this song is for him, it’s just chill.

Aviva: Hiss

Hiss blew up because it was a diss track calling out basically everyone in the music industry.

I feel like this fits her attitude towards Zach specifically.

Like she seems like she wants to say “Fu*k you” to him so badly.

Based on the “Mystery of the Weird Looking Walrus” episode Aviva seems to be a very observant person and knows a lot of tea about people.

Like how does she know what Zach eats every day and how many toes he has on each foot 💀.

And she was able to guess his password easily on the first try.

Basically don’t piss her off or she will air out ALL of your business, like she did with Zach.

Also, I feel like she listens to Megan when she’s angry.

Donita: Megan's Piano

If feel like she's also a Megan stan.

This song is her anthem.

One thing about Donita is she is gonna let you know that she is NOT poor and she works hard for her money.

Like she’s the hardest-working villain besides Gourmand.

Donita is a self-made queen.

Girlboss.

She likes this song because it reminds her that she's better than everyone.

Every time Chris and Martin come around she mentions wanting to give them a makeover and drags them for their fashion choices.

Definitely says “Sorry, hoes hate me 'cause I'm the it girl”.

You can't spell Donita without “it” after all.

Gourmand: B.I.T.C.H

I don't think he would actually call someone a bitch (he's southern-raised, he has some manners) but the vibe of the song fits him.

I think he would like the lyrics “You know you can't control me, baby, you need a real one in ya life.”

Gourmand is kind of like Zach in the sense that he does what he wants whenever he wants.

Hence why you can't control him.

He’s not like Donita who would use animal substitutes in his profession (the fake spider silk) no matter how hard the Kratts try to convince him.

He does what he wants and you can't control him.

He's also very straightforward with his feelings.

If he doesn't like you he’ll let you know.

Zach: God's Favorite

Zach relates to the song based on the title alone.

He truly believes that he is favored and highly regarded.

Him being the “favorite” could be a general feeling or a reference to how he feels about Aviva and her inventions.

He doesn't see himself as equally matched to her or anyone. He sees himself as the ultimate person basically, even above the other villains.

Despite his incompetence, he is still rather skilled in some things and successful.

The lyric “Here's a toast, who you love the most?” is also him talking about himself since we all know who his favorite person is.

I feel like he would listen to this song to boost his confidence.