#baring fangs with a rabbit's heart

[thewolfisawake]

how pure r u

"I--"

"The machine has spoken."

Aspis sighed, "I don't know if I'm flattered or tired."

[florencebirdsong]

Wolf Hunt

Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: Rio needs to get out some of those animal instincts

Tags: primal play, biting, Rio has fangs and claws you’re welcome, strap on (r receiving), predator/play, wolf Rio, prey reader, 

Authors Note: I definitely didn’t make Rio a wolf because Death is a wolf in puss and boots. It was absolutely not a deciding factor. Ahem. Anyway, short and not so sweet

masterlist | ao3

You feel her before you see her. Her heady presence fills the small clearing and you eagerly look into the dark. The fire has ruined your ability to see far but the sound of shifting dirt points to where she’ll pop up. You resist the urge to get up when you can make out her silhouette. Being too eager means you’re more likely to get stuck away from the warmth of the fire.

You tilt your head curiously as she stops outside of the firelight. Her hood isn’t up and the flickering fire light shows that it’s not her skull face. She smiles and you smile back. It takes you a moment to notice the shine of her teeth. Of the fangs poking past her lips. 

You freeze. Her smile widens. Your eyes drop to her hands which are now tipped in claws. You bolt like a rabbit. Her deep laugh echoes behind you.

Branches claw at you and roots try to trip your feet as you run. You can’t tell how close she is and you don’t risk looking back. A wolf howling behind you turns your racing heart into a gallop. You take a wild turn and then another. There’s a river that, if you can get across it, you might be able to use to lose her.

You try and zigzag your way towards it. Unpredictable moves giving you an edge in your race against Death. But they’re also a risk. 

Another sharp pivot puts your foot into a tiny shrub. You crash to the ground but use your momentum to roll and shove yourself up again. The precious seconds cost you. Huffing growls fill the air behind you and you try to force down the panic. She’s gaining with every step. Your shoulder catches the trunk of a tree and you stumble. She’s so close you swear you can feel her breath. You prepare yourself to hit the ground. The shock is always what does you in. It comes a second later.

She tackles you but you’re quick enough to wriggle out of her grip before she can cage you in. You think you’re free until her claws wrap around your ankle and you slam into the ground. Her hands are quick to find your legs and hold them down.

You try to kick her off of you but it’s too late. She kneels where her hands were. She slams your shoulders onto the ground. Her claws dig into your skin. Trying to shove her off is useless so you go for her elbows. They don’t bend. She growls and moves one hand to push your head back, baring your neck to her. Your hands move to her shoulders to get some leverage as you try and buck her off. Then you try to unbalance her by shoving her chin up. She growls and bites your fingers. You yelp and pull back instinctively. She huffs a laugh. You bare your teeth at her but stop when she does it back. Her fangs are so much sharper than yours. 

You grip her wrist to try and free your head but she pushes until you feel a strain and you have to stop. Your hands hover, unsure what to do next as her eyes run over your captured form. You decide fuck it and jab at her throat. She chokes at the feeling but Death doesn’t need to breathe. Your hands are forced down beside your head and she growls in your face. 

You growl back, but it turns into a whimper when she sinks her sharp fangs into your throat. You don’t attempt to push her off, knowing ripping her teeth out of you will only hurt worse. Your body goes limp. She growls in satisfaction. 

Her hips grind against you and you whimper. She’s got her teeth into you. There’s no escape now.

She ruts against you and the sharp ache in your neck makes it take too long for you to notice the hard thing hiding in her pants.

She finally releases your throat and you whimper at the fresh sting. She tries to pull your pants down and growls in frustration, ripping them open with her claws instead. You flinch but they don’t snag you. She lines up her strap and fills you with one thrust before her hand returns to your wrist. You hadn’t even thought to move it. There’s no thoughts now.

Rio doesn’t give you time to adjust or work you up. She ruts into you like the animal she is. Grunting and growling as you whimper and mewl below her. Her nose in your neck constantly nudging the wound on your neck, her hot breath doing nothing to soothe it.

You sloppily meet her thrusts as the stretch turns from painful to delicious, breathing heavy as pleasure floods through you. She bottoms out every time, skin slapping yours as she chases her own high. 

She grunts and bites you again, right above the first mark. A sign she’s close to coming. You whine and struggle against her hold. You aren’t close enough yet. Her jaw clenches tighter, her nails dig into your skin and her thrusts turn punishing. One hand leaves your wrist and finds your clit, pinching harshly. A high-pitched sound leaves your throat and you arch into her, sharp pleasure crashing into you. Her hips do that stuttering thing that shows she’s coming and you fall over the edge together. She’s no nicer, taking what she wants, but you’re too full to care. 

She stills, still inside of you, before laying down on top of you and nuzzling your neck. The movements zing along the lingering pleasure.

Panting, you lay there as the waves ebb out of you. Rio nuzzles and licks over her new marks, knowing it takes you longer than her to come down. You whimper when she hits a particularly tender spot. You can feel her purr. 

Her tongue pokes and prods until you’re limp under her. Satisfaction rolls off of her in waves. You won’t be about to run again and she’s marked you for all to see. You’re hers until the next hunt, when she’ll need to prove her claim all over again.

[animasola86]

🦇 FANGS TO REMEMBER

m!vampires x f!reader 🔥 very explicit 🔥 words: 3.6k

On your way back to the party, you come across a graveyard. Unbeknownst to you, you are trespassing onto someone's property, and they are not happy about it. Or are they?

WARNINGS: NSFW! Explicit sexual content! Vampires! Noncon/dubcon! Threesome! Spitroasting! Biting! (READ ON AO3!)

A/N: This is part 5 of my CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE smut series! 1 🔸 2 🔸 3 🔸 4 🔸 5 🔸 6 🔸 7 This is the continuation of OPTION 3/PART 4 - but can be read individually, let me just set the scene:

CONTEXT: You were invited to a Halloween party in a mysterious house, dressed as Little Red Riding Hood, and after drinking a strange drink, you decide to get some fresh air, running into a werewolf who instantly decides to knot and breed you, and after that ordeal is done, you flee from him, and come across a graveyard...

ADDITIONAL WARNING: This one is very dark. It's more noncon than dubcon, so if you don't like the themes, you can skip it (imagine something dark happening) and read the next part here.

You look around, but there's only one way forward: through the graveyard. It's too dark to see anything else, no maze, no garden, no house, you can't even see the cabin anymore you just left. The night is eerily quiet, no critters, nothing. Even the wind seems to take a break for now.

Inhaling deeply, you hug your arms around your body and take a step through the large wrought-iron gates, looking left and right at the rows of crooked tomb stones. A strange mist wafts close to the ground, giving off an otherworldly glow. The moon is long gone it seems, the sky too cloudy to show any stars, but still you can see the various shapes around you.

You're not easily spooked, usually, but being alone in a cemetery at night makes your imagination run wild, wilder than it has been all evening. The slightest movement makes you flinch as you tread carefully along the path, goosebumps rippling over your exposed skin whenever something brushes against your bare legs. The shirt is soft and warm, but in the end not long enough after all, no matter how hard you tug at its hem.

A sudden shuffling sound makes your blood run cold and you freeze on the spot, your heart beating out of your chest, cold fear gripping your limbs. It came from behind one of the larger tomb stones, decorated with a small angel statue. You stare into the darkness, pressing your lips together to keep the noises from spilling past them. Probably just an animal. Your mind is surely playing tricks on you.

But when the same sound comes from right behind you, you whirl around with a shriek, stumbling back as you see a large black shadow blocking your view. You expect to fall onto your butt, but something keeps you from it, another shadow – and this one has hands. Hands that grip your arms, holding you tightly. Another scream rips from your throat as you thrash about, trying to get away, before another hand finds its way to your mouth, muffling all the noises you want to let out.

Your eyes are wide when the shadows around you form into the shapes of two big men, pale in the eerie light, tall and muscular, dressed surprisingly well for creatures that lurk in the dark.

“What do we have here?” the one with his hand on your mouth says, tilting his head, giving you a smile that makes his handsome face look almost diabolical. “A little rabbit? In our cemetery?”

“Did you get lost, little one?” the other man, the one behind you, whispers as he leans his head closer, rubbing his smooth cheek against yours. It's cold to the touch.

You stiffen, unable to do or say anything. Maybe you're still dreaming, or again. But the way these men grab you feels too real. They are strong. Intimidatingly so. You swallow hard, gasping when the one behind you gives you a deep sniff.

“Ugh, she reeks of dog,” he says with a drawl. “Had some fun with the beast, didn't you?”

Suddenly you feel a hand between your legs, a cold touch, coaxing a muffled yelp out of you as you feel probing fingers right against your warm crotch. “Huh, yeah, he got to her alright. Filled to the brim...” He pulls his fingers away and raises them to your face, and you can see the thick substance coating them. “Too bad, really, I was looking forward to ravaging that sweet cunt...”

You glare at him, both in shock and indignation. He pulls his hand from your mouth and shoves his soiled fingers between your lips. A muffled grunt of protest slips from your throat, but your attempts to get away are futile as the other man still holds your arms tightly. A bitter and slightly salty taste fills your mouth, but with how the man presses his digits onto your tongue you can't do anything but flick it around them, licking them clean.

“At least she seems quite obedient,” he muses with a menacing tone, watching you closely, moving his fingers in and out of your mouth.

“We can still have some fun with her,” the man behind you says quietly, his nose nuzzling your neck. “He hasn't marked her yet. She's fair game.”

“Splendid,” the other replies with a laugh and pulls his fingers away with a wet popping sound. You quickly swallow the spit gathered on your tongue and lick your quivering lips. “So, little bunny, do you wanna try to run? I would die for a little hunt... if I wasn't already dead,” he adds with a reverberating laugh that makes you shiver deeply.

You just stare at him, your chest rising and falling faster. “I don't think she'll come far,” the man rubbing his hands over your arms retorts. “She seems weakened. The beast clearly got her good. Let's just enjoy her until her heart gives out, hm?”

You gasp at the implication, immediately silenced by a hand reaching out to grab your chin. “Fine. It is already enough to hear this beautiful beat,” the man in front of you whispers as he leans closer. “Are you scared, rabbit?”

Your eyes dart over his pale face, and when he bares his teeth and licks them slowly, you stare at his pointy canines. After having just met a real werewolf (or so you think, it's all so fuzzy in your head right now), you shouldn't be surprised to meet actual vampires, in a graveyard no less, pale and cold and strong, with sharp fangs and insatiable appetites, but your body still reacts as if you were indeed just a bunny cornered by two predators. A tiny whimper escapes your throat. “Please...”

“Hmm? Please what? Use your words, darling!” the man behind you snarls, rubbing his nose against your neck before you feel his lips on your pulse, nibbling teasingly.

“Please let me go...” you press out.

“Not going to happen, sweetheart,” he replies, his low voice muffled. “You came to us. Walked right onto our property. It's our right to do with you whatever we like...”

You squirm in his hold when he laps his tongue up your neck. The other man watches you, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip before he suddenly leans closer, pressing his forehead to yours. You gasp, staring at him. “You won't regret it, little one,” he breathes against you. His skin feels cold, but the close proximity makes your cheeks burn up badly. “We'll give you a good time, don't worry your pretty little head!”

And suddenly you are being lifted, nausea rolling over you as you find yourself somehow floating in the air. It's all a blur at this point. Footsteps crunch over gravel and dead leaves, thump against stone plates, old hinges screech as a door is being opened. The fresh air becomes stale and dusty, the light even darker. You move down a set of stairs, but you can't move, your head is swimming, your insides tensing up in a way that borders on painful. You can barely breathe, and you have no idea why.

Candle light flickers to life when the men take you through a large wooden door. Your eyes blink into focus slowly. You seem to be in some sort of mausoleum, old looking, corners full of cobwebs, aged statues lining the walls. In the middle of the round room, there are two stone coffins, both of them open, their heavy stone slabs pushed to the side. You swallow hard, trying to see this as a scene, a decorated room fit for an elaborate Halloween party.

But somehow you doubt this is part of it.

“Excuse the mess,” one of the men says as he walks to the coffins. “We didn't expect company tonight...”

He raises a hand – and as you're being set down on your feet again, you witness how the heavy slab moves seemingly on its own or by a strange unseen force, leaving you even more confused. Both coffins are closed now, and before you can question anything else, you are being draped over the short side of one of them, stomach pressed to the cold stone, arms and legs hanging off the edges. A groan escapes you.

“Let's clean her up first, I can't stand the stink of wolf,” one man says as he steps behind you, pushing your legs further apart. You feel a strange coldness rushing through your body, like water, but not really wet, a sensation that leaves you choking on your own spit. “There, better. Don't you feel better too, darling? No longer stuffed full of disgusting beast semen? Well, I don't want to kink shame or anything, maybe you are into being bred, but we do like our holes squeaky clean – for us to soil all over again.”

You squirm on the stone slab, your hands trying to find purchase on the smooth surface, your legs kicking helplessly, but before you can do anything, the other man steps in front of you, grabbing your chin and lifting your head up. You find yourself face-to-face with his throbbing cock. They don't seem to waste any time, huh? He presses his thumb and finger into your cheeks, forcing your mouth open. You issue a groan of protest that is quickly muffled by his surprisingly warm member. You have no choice but to close your lips around it. (Even if you wanted to bite down on him, you couldn't, his hand is still holding your jaw open.)

“Good bunny, you know what to do, hm?” he tells you, slowly rolling his hips against you, his tip scraping along your gums, teasing at the back of your throat. Saliva pools on your tongue, and you feel the need to swallow it before it drips past your lips. When you do, he groans quietly. “Oh, yes, like that. Do that again.” Somehow his words seem to encourage you, and you swallow around him once more, straining your throat enough for tears to fill your eyes.

Behind you, you feel two cold hands rubbing up and down your thighs, gripping them, pulling them apart, before they slip up your rear and push the large shirt out of the way. “So I assume after your little werewolf ordeal, your poor little cunt is a little tired, wouldn't you agree?” he rasps teasingly. “Good thing you have another hole, huh, my sweet?”

You let out a series of muffled cries around the cock in your mouth when you feel probing fingers between your ass cheeks. “Mhmmnngh!” you croak out, thrashing on the stone slab, trying to get away. A sudden slap on your soft rear makes you howl, but ultimately stops your fidgeting. Your skin burns and throbs horribly. “Shh, relax, rabbit. You can take it. See?”

Before you can react, you feel a strange pressure against your sphincter, a teasing touch but unrelenting, and suddenly you have a finger in your ass. Your tight muscles clench around the thick digit, and you wriggle in your compromised position, almost gagging yourself on the dick between your lips when you push yourself against the man's groin and his cock deeper into your mouth. A jerk goes through your body, your hands fruitlessly trying to hold onto anything.

You don't feel in control of your limbs anymore, it's strange. You can feel everything, but you can't move, only rock back and forth on the coffin. The man behind you pushes his finger deeper, then pulls it out and replaces it with two. The stretch hurts, and you let out a muffled wail. Your noises seem to encourage him when he moves them in and out faster, deeper, a hard press against your protesting muscles.

Meanwhile the man holding your jaw increases the pace of his hips slamming against your face. His cock pushes deep, and you gag violently when he breaches your throat, your body convulsing, spit filling your mouth. He pulls back slightly, allows you to breathe and cough and swallow, but then repeats the motion, and you gag again, and the cycle continues. Your head is spinning by the fifth time he forced his length down your throat, and you feel too weak to protest anymore.

Not even when you notice that the man playing with your ass has added another finger and is plunging his hand hard against your rear, a dizzying rhythm, forceful, stretching you for whatever comes next. You can guess and it scares you. But there's nothing you can do as he suddenly pulls his fingers out with a wet pop and you feel his cockhead pressing against your slightly gaping hole. A deep grunt escapes him when he rocks his pelvis forward, sinking into your depths without mercy, carving his way through your impossible tightness.

Your muffled scream is overpowered by loud gurgling noises as the cock in your mouth pistons in and out fast, always pushing deep, bulging your neck, his crotch slapping into your face with each thrust. You are pushed and pulled, rocked back and forth, impaled front and back, cold hands holding your head up or digging into your hips as the two men use you for their pleasure, their grunts filling the space around you.

Despite their rough handling, you feel a strange heat growing inside you, and you realize that with every slam into your ass or snap into your throat, you are rubbed over the rough stone, and your clit quickly feels raw and swollen from the added stimulation. Moaning into the rapidly moving cock in your mouth, you focus on the good feelings, not the burning friction in your rear, not the rawness of your throat, the lack of air or the helplessness, just the bliss that tries to fight through the pain and discomfort.

But before you can even imagine any edge to fall over, they suddenly slow down, languid strokes that push deep until they stop altogether, one cock buried deep in your ass, the other pushed all the way down your throat as pubic hair tickles your nostrils. Your eyes roll back, your lungs burn, your body spasms fruitlessly. Groans echo in your ear.

“Let's turn her around,” one says.

“You wanna switch places too?” the other replies, almost a little breathlessly.

“Sure, I bet she doesn't mind a little ass to mouth action, huh, sugar?”

A loud slap against your bruised rear makes you gag violently, and as spit fills your mouth and tears stream down your face, you are being rotated on the cold stone slab, arms still hanging limply to the ground while your legs twitch as they're being pushed up and against your heaving chest, opening you up further. Cold air brushes over your exposed skin, and for a short moment they let go of you, cocks pull back, leaving trails of stickiness all over your face and crotch.

You are lightheaded, barely able to function, and that moment of reprieve is short-lived. You didn't even get the chance to swallow or breathe properly before a cock is being shoved back into your mouth. Hands curl around the back of your head, holding it up as the stiff and slimy length is pushed straight into your bruised throat. You can only croak out a muffled grunt before a heavy pair of balls slam against your nose.

“Tongue out,” the man above you orders, and you comply, hoping it'll be easier with your mouth wide open and your tongue extended to guide the throbbing cock in and out. “Good. Just like that. Look at that neck bulging. Ugh,” he continues, groaning as he rams deep into your throat and rests there, cutting off any air flow you may have had earlier. You squirm on the coffin, limbs twitching helplessly.

Before you drift off into unconsciousness, he pulls back and slaps your cheek. The pain drags you back immediately. “No fainting, rabbit, we need you awake for this.” You cough hoarsely, spit and precum flying through the air. You're too weak to open your eyes, and it doesn't matter anyway. His hand is on your neck now, squeezing slightly. “Ahh, yes, listen to that frantic heartbeat,” he rasps, slowly slipping his cock back between your lips. “Are you afraid to choke, hm? Or does that turn you on?”

You gag when he presses into your throat slowly, your whole body jerking against the man on the other side, who's holding your legs open and pressed to your chest. You are allowed to cough and swallow before it happens all over again, again and again, and while one man fucks your throat with reckless abandon, the other rubs his cold hand down your mound, teasing at your swollen clit, parting your puffy labia, but then he dips his finger into your ass, completely ignoring your hungrily clenching cunt.

There's no further preparation, and a moment later he shoves his cock into your tight hole, making you wail against the dick in your throat. He lets go of your legs, causing them to flop about wildly with each thrust as he starts pounding into you hard and fast, then you feel his long fingers on your burrowed shirt. You barely register how it's ripped open, but you do feel those cold palms pressing onto your soft mounds, pebbling your skin, your nipples hardening instantly. The touch is almost soothing among all the other things happening to you.

It's a whirlwind of sensations, the lack of air and strain to your throat and jaw on one side, the rough friction and burning heat and hard pummeling on the other. You are moved back and forth on the stone surface, a limp body to be used. You don't know how long this is going on, but these guys seem to have incredible stamina. They just won't stop.

Whenever you feel as if you're slipping into the welcoming darkness, you are slapped and brought back, your cheeks burning and throbbing, but it's only one of many aches by now. You can't decide which is worse, the suffocating stretch when a cock buries deep into your throat, or the rough pummeling of sore muscles when the other cock rams into your tight ass. It's all a blur in the end.

The men are groaning and grunting, snapping their hips against you, uncaring of your discomforts. They're chasing their own orgasms while you remain teetering far away from any sort of release. The room is filled with loud squelching noises, gurgles and slurps, slapping of skin against skin, a soundscape that seems to be your only form of stimulation. Not even the cold hands on your breasts push you further to the edge, they are just there, holding you, groping hard, anchoring you as you are pushed back and forth.

At least they have a rhythm now, in and out in an alternating way, almost like a seesaw, in goes the one in your throat, out moves the one in your ass, and then it's the other way around. And somehow you find comfort in it as you lie there, held in place, unable to move, your eyelids fluttering, tears and snot drying on your sweat-slick skin.

It's then that you feel cold fingers brushing down your quivering belly, down, down, until they rub against your clit, and you arch your back, inhale that cock in your throat, jerk your hips against the one pounding into your ass, and you come, clenching down hard, stiffening, eyes rolling back, bliss exploding through the veils of darkness.

You feel like floating, leaning into the wave of pleasure that washes over you as you let it all happen. And as you do, the men's motions grow jerkier, rougher, faster, and they come too, almost at the same time. Cum shoots down your throat, and you'd expect to feel the same sensation in your ass, but the man there pulls out and empties himself all over your mound and stomach, all the way to your neck. The pressure in your throat loosens then, and similar spurts of wet warmth hit your face.

Raspy breaths make it past your soiled, swollen lips as you lie there with your eyes closed. Strong hands move you until you're lying fully on your back, legs outstretched, arms put at the sides of your body, head supported by the hard stone slab beneath you. Cold fingers trail your skin.

“I wish we could keep her,” you hear a quiet voice that barely makes it past the cotton in your head.

“I'm not risking another war with those savages just because of one puny human...” says a different voice. “We'll find another one.”

“Let's feed and get her back onto the path.”

You blink your eyes open, noticing the two men, the two vampires, standing over you, staring down at you from both sides of the coffin. Their teeth are bared, fangs glistening in the swaying candle light, and before you can do anything, they lean down, one goes straight for your neck, his pointy canines sinking deeply into your skin, and you feel it, despite your fucked-out state, you feel the cold crashing through your veins.

The same sensation happens between your legs, on one of your inner thighs as the other bites down into your soft flesh. You whimper soundlessly, throat hoarse and sore, body too weak to move against the assault. They suck your blood noisily, like the thirsty monsters they are, and you just let it happen, again, what other choice do you have? Your head is spinning as you feel the cold spread through your trembling limbs.

And the world fades...

1 🔸 2 🔸 3 🔸 4 🔸 5 🔸 6 🔸 7

End notes: The last part is here!

By the way, this is a nod towards my standalone Vampire oneshot Down the Rabbit Hole which also has dubcon elements and more than one vampire, but isn't as dark.

MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS

KINKTOBER 2024 MASTERLIST

[littlefireball]

ᴡʏ|ᴡɪʟᴅ ɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ (ᴀ/ᴍ/ꜰ)

ᴡᴇʀᴇᴡᴏʟꜰ ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ x ʙᴜɴɴʏ ʜʏʙʀɪᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ|ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ (ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛʟʏ)|ꜱᴛᴜᴄᴋ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ|ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ ᴏɴ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ|ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ ʟᴏꜱᴇꜱ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ|ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɢᴇᴛꜱ ʜᴜʀᴛ|ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ|ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx|ʀᴏᴜɢʜ ꜱᴇx

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1.9ᴋ

"Let us out!" Despite your relentless pounding on the metal door, there was no response from outside, leaving you to vent your anger into the empty air. Your fists throbbed with pain, a metallic taste of blood lingering in your throat, and a wave of powerlessness washed over you.

"Hehe~ You won't be able to shout for long." A taunting voice echoed from beyond, grating and unsettling. "I'll see what happens when a carnivore with its biological nature aroused looks at a bunny like you."

Your heart sank, and your rabbit ears dropped in fear. Gas seeped into the warehouse from all directions, a swirling purple haze mixed with hints of red that swiftly engulfed Wooyoung's sanity.

"What...Wooyoung...!" Wooyoung's face contorted in panic, a reddish hue painting his features as he struggled against the invasive thoughts. He clutched his forehead, brows furrowed in a desperate attempt to resist.

"This is the consequence of offending a gang~" Tasked with investigating a missing persons case linked to the town's largest gang, you and Wooyoung infiltrated the enemy warehouse at night, only to be discovered. In the chaos of your escape, Wooyoung was injured while trying to shield you from the guards.

"Tsk..." You called for backup from headquarters, hoping for swift assistance. But Wooyoung's condition demanded immediate action.

"Y/N...run..." Wooyoung gasped, his voice strained. But where could you flee? With the warehouse sealed shut, windows barred, and no means of escape. "No...Wooyoung..." Your emotions for him transcended mere camaraderie or friendship, how could you leave him behind?

"I don't want to harm you..." His words were a struggle, each syllable a testament to his dwindling strength. "No, Wooyoung, I won't abandon you." The resolve in your voice surprised even yourself. What options remained?

"The reinforcements will arrive soon..." "No...no...!" His hiss cut through the tension, his grip on reality slipping. Lunging towards you, claws extended and fangs bared, he attacked. You narrowly evaded the first strike, but before you could react, he lunged again.

With your passivity and the unfamiliar environment working against you, you found yourself cornered. "No!" Wooyoung charged, knocking you to the ground with a forceful blow. "Please!" You cried out, but he remained unresponsive, his grip bruising your wrists.

"Is a rabbit! How delicious!" "Please, Wooyoung!" Your pleas fell on deaf ears as he sank his fangs into your shoulder, the sharp pain causing tears to well up in your eyes. Instinctively, you pushed him away, but he lunged at you once more, his primal instincts taking over.

Desperate to stop him, you realized there were only two options: either give in to his bloodlust and let him tear you apart, or try to quell his aggression through a more intimate connection which meant letting him knot you. The latter option, however, came with its own set of risks and uncertainties, especially considering the differences in your races and the potential backlash from society.

But in this life-or-death situation, you had no choice but to take a chance. With a deep breath, you grabbed his face and brought his lips to yours, tasting the metallic tang of blood as you kissed him. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of revulsion and arousal as his fangs grazed your lips, drawing more blood. Your face turned red as you felt like you were about to run out of oxygen and pushed him away. But he kissed you again just after a moment of separation.

Surprisingly, his aggression began to wane with each kiss, his movements becoming less frenzied. His kisses, though wild, carry a passion that ignited a fire within you. Your heart raced, your body responding to his touch, your mind clouded by a heady mix of desire and fear.

Your breathing quickened, and the sound of your heartbeats echoed through the lonely warehouse. He took the lead, roughly prying your lips open and entwining his tongue with yours, sucking on your lips and greedily exploring every part of you.

"You smell so sweet," he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. The heat between you intensified, your arousal took over your mind as he explored every inch of your being. Not knowing whether the loss of blood or the ecstasy of the heat, your limbs were weakening and vision was starting to appear as black spots while your consciousness was blurring.

"No, it's not enough... I want it all." As he lost himself in the scent of you, his actions grew rougher, biting harder and leaving visible purplish-grey marks on your chest that speak of his possession. "Hmmm...woo..." Your clothes were torn away in a frenzy of need, leaving you exposed and vulnerable, your desire for him consuming your every thought. The sound of the fabric being torn apart didn't make you have any intention of resisting but just led you to become more divorced from reality. Your heat has already taken over your mind and you only want him to fuck you, breed you, knot you.

In a haze of passion and desperation, you surrender to him, giving in to the primal urge to be taken, to be claimed. The world fades away as he fulfills his desire to possess you completely, to mate with you in a primal, raw union that leaves you breathless.

"Woo, I want you...I love you." Perhaps knowing that you might never have the chance to express your feelings, you mustered up the courage to say what was in your heart, watching Wooyoung tear all your clothes into pieces and lie naked in front of him.

"You are so beautiful." He unzipped his pants and pulled out his hardened and reddened cock that was covered with pre-cum. Without warning, his cock entered your cunt in one powerful motion.

The sensation of a foreign object penetrating you in a way you've never experienced before heightens your sensitivity, causing your body to produce even more fluid. "Oh, god!" He growled passionately, thrusting with intense fervor. Each movement felt like he was striving to reach the deepest parts of you. "Ah!" You gasped, closing your eyes and arching your back, the unfamiliar sensation causing a mix of pleasure and pain.

He placed his hands on your head, increasing the intensity of his thrusts, leaving you unable to do anything but emit a soft whimper. Your legs instinctively bent in response to his movements, your moans muffled by his lips pressed against yours. "I need deeper," he whispered in between kisses, suddenly sitting up straight. With both of your legs draped over his shoulders, he delves even further inside you, eliciting a mix of pleasure and discomfort. "Please..." you plead, the intensity overwhelming you.

As you struggled to adjust to his relentless thrusts, the sensation became overwhelming, bordering on painful. You kept sucking him in and the warm fluids wrapped around his cock. His words, "You're sucking me in, huh? So fucking good," sent a chill down your spine, his eerie laugh adding to the unease creeping over you. Desperately, you wished for him to regain control of himself. His arms wrapped around your knees, and each forceful slap against your ass intensified the sensation.  "Ah...Hmm!" Your mouth formed an 'O' shape and a high-pitch moan left your lips. With each deep thrust, his balls collided with your bouncing cheeks, his moans mingling with the sounds of your pleasure and pain.

As he gazed up at you, reveling in the softness of your skin, a wave of heat washed over you with each precise movement that sent tingles through your body, leaving you dizzy with desire. "Gosh!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with a mix of lust and satisfaction. The pain began to merge with pleasure as his tip kept hitting your different spots, creating a whirlwind of conflicting sensations that left you gasping for breath.

"I'm gonna fuck you harder!" he declared, releasing your legs and pulling you up while he was lying down. The deeper penetration brought a mix of pleasure and discomfort, causing you to moan in response to his firm spanks. "Move." It was your first time, and you were unsure of how to move, but his actions left you with no choice. With a swift movement, he lifted his hips and drove himself deep inside you, causing a surge of sensations that left you trembling with a mix of joyful and anticipation.

"Oh!!! Fuck!!!!" He placed his hands on your waist and pushed in with all of strength. Your screams became intermittent, your head bobbing uncontrollably, your breasts marked with his hickeys bouncing up and down, dried blood staining your skin with crimson, not to mention your long, fluffy, wobbly ears swaying. Such an art piece. Suddenly, you felt his cock become incredibly bigger and blocked your deepest part. Intense pain spread throughout your body, as if every inch of your muscles were being stabbed with knives.

"No more..." your cries were drowned out by his insanity as he kept thrusting, with no intention of stopping. Your body and mind were completely drained, the pain destroys your consciousness and you finally let the darkness consume you.

"Fuck!!!Fuck!!!Fuck!!!" Wooyoung was too preoccupied with his own orgasm to notice that you've long since passed out, and he cummed inside you several times before he stopped, the effects of all that smoke finally wearing off.

You collapsed on his chest, and he shook his head as if he's just woken up from a nap, his eyes not fully open and panting heavily. He stroked down on your head and tentatively called your name. "Y/N?" Silence. "Y/N??" He carefully picked you up and found you bloodless. "What....I" What he did to you just now came into his mind like a tsunami.

"I'm sorry. I'm terrible...please stay with me," he whispered, his voice filled with regret and desperation. Before he could say more, the door of the warehouse was suddenly forced open, and several troops entered with guns, the slow soldiers you had requested.

"Let's go home, Y/N. Everything will be fine," he said softly, holding you close, afraid to let you go for fear of losing you forever.

—--

Wooyoung sat by your hospital bed, the monotonous sound of the life support equipment filling the room. You had been in a coma for three days, and guilt weighed heavily on wooyoung's heart as he looked at you.

"Please, Y/N. Wake up... I can't bear the thought of losing you. It's my fault, I'm sorry for what happened. If only I had kept control, you wouldn't be in this state," he choked on his words, tears welling up in his eyes. He kissed your hand, silently praying for your recovery. "If you leave me... I'll follow you."

A faint voice interrupted his thoughts, "If you do that, what I did would all be in vain." He looked up in surprise as you finally opened your eyes. "Y/N!!!" Tears streamed down his face as relief flooded over him. You wiped away his tears with a sigh, tears of your own falling freely. "I'll make it right, I'll take responsibility." Your heart was torn between fear of his past actions and love for him.

"Give me some time," you requested, and he nodded in understanding. In the days that followed, he cared for you diligently, shielding you from harm and the prejudices that surrounded your relationship. Despite the challenges, his warmth and love gradually erased your fears, and you found solace in his unwavering devotion.

Maybe that night of madness wasn't all bad.

—---

Bonus

"Y/N, do you think this dress looks good? I think it's so cute!"

"The baby is not born yet! There are so many clothes that they fill several closets."

"It doesn't matter. We will have so many pups." You rolled your eyes back and smiled helplessly.

"Hey, how about this toy?"

"What if the kid doesn't like it?"

"Then I just use it on you." *wink*

"Yah!" You hitted him shyly but he just smiled lovingly.

[kingkatsuki]

Like just thinking about the first time you actually actively seek out Dragon King Bakugou inside his castle. It’s always been him coming to you, demanding you stop being a brat eat dinner or bathe when you’ve refused because you do not want to be here.

So as you’re walking barefoot through the cold, stony walls you can hear his harsh voice in his study. Shouting at his men as they talk about their plan of attack on another village nearby who has been trying to kill their dragons by putting poison beneath their chicken feathers.

And you almost turn back around and head back to your room, the rumbly boom of his voice sends shivers down your spine and you’re almost frightened to knock as you let your hand ball into a fist. Giving two barely there knocks against the wood as you hear a harsh “enter!” from the other side.

And its like his entire expression changes when he sees you, eyes softening as he blinks. Once. Twice. As though he can’t quite believe what his eyes are seeing as you stand there in your nightshirt, fingers folding into the fabric as you shuffle nervously.

“If it’s a bad time I can come back—”

“No!” He growls, fangs bared as he turns to the other men in the room, “Leave.”

And Bakugou can’t quite stop the way his heart hammers against his rib cage as he’s left alone with you in his study, and for the first time in his life he’s nervous to step towards you. As though he might startle you like a frightened rabbit and he’ll have to watch you flee. Because this is the first time you’ve sought him out, the first time you’ve come to him—

[cardsweetheart]

Celebration Dinner

S: Leona treats his dorm well when they deserve it. In a dorm full of animals, sometimes that means feeding their instincts as much as their stomachs. When you insist on sitting in on one of these feasts, just be careful you're not mistaken for part of the meal.

------------------------------------

Raw meat night sounds worse than it is. The initial thought that comes to mind is dishes coming out in waves. A dorm full of beastmen ripping into rare steaks, claws and all. No cutlery to be seen. Plastic laid down for easier clean up of the mess made of the boys and tables. Uproaring and laughter from the crowd of students. Their reward for passing exams well earned.

Okay, maybe it was a bit worse than you'd think.

Instead it's surprisingly quiet. At least to start. The anticipation a buzz throughout the Savanaclaw dining room. It's sitting at the head table and feeling the tension rising in the air. Snarls and growls of frustration slowly making themselves known as the seconds tick by.

Leona stood next to you, watching over as the masses grow restless. He'd warned you that it would get brutal. That the small bits of kindness that was found in the cracks of the dorm would be lost. He'd do all he could to make sure there was no real danger and that he wouldn't drift too far from you just in case, but he also liked to partake to the fullest. You'd promised you can look after yourself and he shrugged.

Soon the sound starts to become more apparent. It's moved to anger. Restrained frustration. An audience ready to riot at their leader if the hunger is denied any longer. For a moment you realize how out of place you were. How easily you could have just made yourself a sacrifice to some demented magical event you didn't understand.

Once he's decided they've reached the edge, Leona gives the signal. The large doors to the hall open and you hear it. The sound of countless paws, hooves, claws all rushing in at once. The room is overrun by a stampede of wild animals you haven't seen since you've arrived to the campus. Antelope panic to find solid footing. Rabbits dart around the room at an alarming speed. A variety of birds swoop through the air.

You catch the eye of a large buck that led the pack of prey. In a second, you see Leona appear out of nowhere, taking the animal's antlers in his hands and lifting it to it's hind feet. Teeth sink into its neck, and you watch it go limp. A moment shared before the pure chaos breaks.

It's first blood. The king has his kill. The rest of the pack can finally eat.

The first noise you pick up on is the crack of bone. Muscle tearing. Tendons snapping. The final cries falling on deaf ears as starving men dig into their catches. The beginnings of territorial fights solved by a passing fox or hog. Scampering as students you'd been in class with only hours before, chase their dinners like its a game. The wet sound of blood doesn't get the chance to echo in all of the mayhem. As the minutes passed, all you can see is red. The stench of viscera hits your nose and you shift in your seat.

It's dangerous. To feel the way you do in this environment. A hall filled with carnivores in their pure instinctual states. When you look across the table, you spot a familiar hyena. The usual charmer you remember is missing. Ruggie is hunched over a chunk of what you can barely identify as Leona's deer. He truly was a scavenger at heart.

Blood coats his hands. Spreading up his arms. It drenches his clothes. Following the lines of his body, you see the soaked face shredding flesh from its mass. The hints of bone peeking out from between ligaments and marbled fat. Fangs properly on display as they rip through the tender meat. A hunt well worth reveling in. He indulges like his typical starving self, but with a newfound desperation. Scarfing down every morsel he can find like it's going to be ripped away the second he hesitates. A low growl ever present at the base of his throat.

The smallest noise you make drags his eyes to you and you can see how they've dialated. Terrified you've angered him, you begin to slip down into your seat. Hoping if you make yourself as non threatening as possible, he will ignore you and go back to the more appealing meal in front of him.

This does not work.

Even as the overwhelming environment does it's best to distract for you, clearly it's not enough to cover for you. Your hands go to the hem of your skirt, as if pulling it down will disguise the smell of your arousal. You know how disgusting it makes you. How abhorrent it is that all this is such a thing for you. If you'd known it would be such a display, you would've never agreed to attend. Never would've put yourself in a situation surrounded by hunting predators when you're attracted to danger, fear, teeth, blood, violence. The concept of being prey yourself being one of the fantasies that has done nothing but reluctantly bloom in the presence of Leona and Ruggie.

So making eye contact with the equivalent of a wild animal a few feet away as you feel the stain on your panties growing, is not the most ideal situation for you. Especially as he drops the slab onto the table with a sopping thud. Alarms scream in your head when it seems forgotten in favor of your attention. A hand presses against the flooded table and he rises from his chair. A slow lean forward and you wish for nothing but to disappear. Visions of broken necks and torn limbs cross your mind. Ruggie's dripping face breaks your comfort zone. Your chest rises and falls as your heartbeat quickens. You wonder if it's loud enough for everyone to hear or if the pounding just in your own ears. If the pulsing between your legs was as obvious as it felt.

"Hey." His old smile was back, but his voice was not his own. It was low and almost distorted.

Throat dry, you struggle to speak at all, let alone clearly, "Y-yeah?"

His eyes look you up and down. The smallest bit of slack goes to his shoulders, almost like he was intoxicated. A chuckle mixes with intention, "You smell good."

A disgracefully loud yelp comes out of you. Surprising even yourself. The minute that passes is painfully long as you both ponder what the next move is. The room feels quieter. Leona's laugh cuts through it all and you whip your head to face him.

"Shut up!" You shout at him. "I need to go!"

You stand, wobbly and weak on your feet. Praying that you can make it out of the dining hall unscathed. With a single shred of dignity left in the morning. That the entirety of the dorm will simply forget that you were even present this evening. Trying not to slip on pools of discarded elk or boar as you do your best to storm out.

The final mistake you make is looking back over your shoulder. Seeing that your boyfriend's gaze has followed your movement through the room. Eyes glowing and obvious against the newly satiated pack. His hunger remained. You witness his head turn for a moment to look to Leona. Wordlessly they share an exchange. A simple smirk and head tilt from your partner and Ruggie is climbing onto the table. Every nerve in your body screams to run.

You know it will do nothing but urge the pair of them on further, but maybe this was to everyone's benefit. A confession without admission. A discovery made without needing a lengthy and embarrassing conversation. Easier to be thrown in the deep end.

Or in this case, chased through the halls of Savanaclaw as the new prey of choice.

[yandereunsolved]

𑂅 ❊ Yandere Omega Kieran Duffy (RDR2) ❊ 𑂅

It wasn't often that Kieran was brave enough to step into your space, breathe near you—or even exist, quite frankly. Despite holding far beyond platonic feelings towards you, he always runs. Skittish. More towards you than any of the others.

He wonders...

Can you sense his heart skipping beats when he dares to take in your beauty?

Do you recognize the thickening of his scent whenever you address him… or when he hears your voice?

Are the pathetic sounds that escape him when you're around not enough of a hint?

He needs you. Need, needs you. Like every moment you're apart, he can feel his dumb bunny brain telling him to run towards you. To let you latch onto him with your fangs. To let you own him. Because he deserves it.

And now, for once, he's doing something about it.

Some of your most treasured cloth items are now in his possession. And he has no intent on giving them back unless you make him―and he would love it if you did. It's shameful how much solace they bring him. They are the ones he managed to steal before they were washed. They still smell like you. All of you. And they're a wonderful addition to his makeshift den.

His nose twitches gently as your scent wafts into it. His mouth waters. He stuffs his face deeper into his sacred pile. His cheeks flush at the simulation, a sense of belonging enveloping him.

His sandy, sepia-dappled, fluffy ears stand at attention. sensing something.

"Kieran."

His body instinctually freezes at the sound of your voice.

Words tumble from his quivering lips before he can process them, "I-I... I swear it isn't what it looks like!"

His head whips around; immediate regret sinks into his fur, down to his dick. You're displeased and ready to hunt. Your ears are at attention. Your bottle brush tail is swinging behind you. It's mesmerizing. Your scent is pungent, causing his nose and tail to involuntarily twitch. It's something out of one of his wet dreams.

"Then what does it look like?" You seethe. You bare your fangs, reveling in how Kieran sinks back into his nest of your things.

"Because to me it looks like a little rabbit has been stealing all my damn clothes so he can get off on them."

Oh. This is so much better than a dream.

"No...? So anyways―nice weather we're having. Hehe."

He looks up at you with that faux innocence. His legs spread open like he's in heat. You step into his space, tilting your head to the side, observing him―determining the best way to handle him.

"Give me one reason I shouldn't snap your neck and leave your carcess at Dutch's feet."

Too many reasons.

But if that were his fate, he'd happily accept it.

He scrambles for a good answer, scent thickening, wishing his tongue could be of better use to you.

"Having an Omega would boost your status within the gang, right? And I can be good. I've been good before!" Each word is accompanied with a soft stutter that you can't help but find cute.

"Beg for it."

Kieran's heart nearly stops beating. 'This is the opportunity I have been waiting for.'

"I want to be yours. Your Omega. Your bunny. Your Kieran. And I'll do anything to be just that―as long as I'm your only one... please?"

You pounce on him without warning, shoving him into the ground; one hand holding a fistful of his shirt while the other leaves feather-light touches along his ears. Something about his words―his cadence. It awakened something inside of you.

"And what would you do if I got another? Hmm? If I found an Omega who better suited my needs."

You nip at his neck, near his common carotid artery. He lets out noises that spur you on. He seems into it. Too into it. Naughty little bunny.

"Kill them, naturally," he responds without hesitation. His body stiffening for a moment.

"Oh, ho, ho. Look at my Omega finally growing some teeth of his own."

He purrs with adoration, trying to push himself further into you so you can scent him.

"Teeth or not. I'd let myself be slaughtered if it pleased you."

[huh-i-guess]

Instinct

(Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader)

Summary: Miguel prefers to do some things instinctively rather than logically.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, daddy kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex, mean Miguel, literally no plot just porn

Word Count: 532

Song Inspo: All Mine by Kali Uchis

“Oh fuck baby. Why do you have to be so impatient? Huh? I told you to be patient and wait for daddy’s dick and you wanted to be a little slut and play with this little pussy. I told you to be still and shut that pretty little mouth. Now you’re over here whining like a bitch in heat. You love to make everything a challenge don’t you baby?”

Your mind was so lost on his cock that you could barely even process what he was saying to you. The only thing you could feel was Miguel and his delicious length surging in and out of you. You think you could feel his hands on your hips, helping move you on and off of his cock. You wanted to cry at how hard his hips were hitting your pelvis. His hair fell and draped over his perfect face and all you could see was his fangs poking out of his mouth as he huffed over you.

“I’m sorry daddy. I’m- I- please” was all you could spew as he ravaged you. He slid his clawed hand up your body and pushed his thumb into your mouth. “Shhhh cariño. Let daddy take care of you now. I’m home now. Let me treat you right. Huh? You want that?” You moaned as you sucked his thumb between your lips and groaned as he angled his hips upwards, hitting that sensitive spot so deep inside of you.

He had only been away a couple of days but the two of you often fucked like rabbits. I mean why wouldn’t you? Look at him. He gets so mean when hasn’t had the opportunity to fuck you silly. And it’s always like this when he comes home… but this time he caught you fingering yourself.

His hips shuddered as you clenched around him and it took everything in him to not cum right then and there. You tried to work your tongue around his thumb but all you could do was pant around it as he sunk his cock in you over and over.

Miguel is a very tense man. He works an incredibly difficult, logical job where everything must be thought out. When he comes home and buries himself in your pussy, he only functions on instinct. His instinct right now is telling him to do something very dangerous.

“What if I put a baby in you, pretty girl? Huh? What if I made you all mine and fucked you full? God you’d be so pretty. Can I do that? Make you all mine?” He rambled.

The thought of having Miguel’s baby sent you over. The thought of him filling you to the brink and keeping him in you had you reeling. Your body tensed and clenched down on him. Hard. Your orgasm launched him into a downward spiral. His cock pulsed and flexed so deeply inside of you. Both of you had entered a state of euphoria and could barely catch your breath.

Miguel collapsed on top of you as you came back down to earth. The dopey smile Miguel gave you warmed your heart.

“I love you, pretty girl.”

“I love you too Miggy”

[sainteclectic]

Lifeblood {Chapter 2}

Sink your teeth into your prey gently. Blood loss feels a lot like love if you do it right.

Soul & Whole, Blood Drinking, Minor Descriptions of Injury, Suicidal Thoughts. 1.2k words.

Atlas watches as Harmonia hesitates, hands trembling, eyes wide with concern. They don't blame him—it's a bizarre situation, one they never thought they'd be in when they went up to the roof that night. Hell, he didn't expect to still be alive.

But here they are, face cupped by the hand of someone they barely know, entrusting him with the life they planned to throw away. A vampire, one that looks at him with such human worry. He should probably be afraid in this situation. Terrified, even.

They aren't scared at all. This is the first spark of excitement they've felt for a long time.

“Wh—Right now?” Harmonia readjusts his hand as Atlas tilts his head even further. “I mean, I… I haven't really done this before, uh—”

It's their turn to be concerned. “At all? How long have you been starving?”

Harmonia looks away and says nothing, and that tells them all they need to know. He must have been suffering for so long, ignoring his needs for the sake of others. It's a feeling Atlas knows well, one they'd never wish on someone so kind.

“Go ahead, please,” they say. “You need it much more than I do.”

“I—I think you need your blood to live too? Uh, I mean, last time I checked…”

Atlas only shrugs the jacket off his shoulders in response. The cold breeze of the winter night against his exposed skin makes him shiver, but he doesn't mind. They know it won't be cold for long, not with the warmth of fresh blood on their skin.

Harmonia reaches out his hand to their neck before pulling it back slightly, hesitant even with permission. The gesture, that silent reassurance that he doesn’t want to hurt them, makes their heart flutter. How could Harmonia ever call himself a monster?

They take Harmonia's hand in theirs and squeeze it with a smile. His nervous expression softens into one of apologetic gratitude as he leans in, mouth to their neck, before pausing again.

“Are you sure this is okay?”

His breath is warm against Atlas' cold skin, which makes them shudder for an entirely different reason. It's so soft, something so gentle and intimate despite the violence of what he's about to do.

“Mhm…”

Their voice is quiet, breathless as Harmonia latches onto their neck so cautiously. Careful not to hurt Atlas, even now, even as teeth sink into his flesh. A wolf biting into its willing prey with such care.

Care. Harmonia is treating him with care.

The thought makes Atlas feel dizzy, or maybe that's just the blood loss—but they haven't lost nearly enough blood to feel so lightheaded already, at least, not if the warmth rushing to his cheeks is any indication. Harmonia mutters something, probably an apology, and Atlas squeezes his hand again.

“It's okay, I'm okay,” they say, and God, what an understatement. Comfort and adrenaline mix into something closer to ecstasy, a level of happiness he's never felt, a level he didn't think he was capable of feeling. “Keep going, please.”

Harmonia hums in response, and Atlas realizes they can't feel his breath anymore. In fact, they can't feel their neck at all. It's a strange realization. This really should hurt, but the only sensation left is a pleasant tingling and a faint sense of pressure where fangs break skin.

How deep are they at this point? He can't tell anymore. They could be bleeding out right now and they would have no idea. Harmonia could easily kill him. Their head spins, and they should be afraid at this point, but they only relax further under Harmonia's touch. They wouldn't mind dying like this. He wonders, briefly, if rabbits would die this happy if they knew how much the wolf loves them. His limbs go limp.

Harmonia whimpers a little in response, clearly worried, but Atlas only nuzzles their cheek against his palm as he continues to feed. Everything feels so nice. So fuzzy, so soft, peaceful in a way he's never known. His head is swimming, drowning even, but the water is so comforting. Maybe the blood loss is starting to kick in, but they can only think one thing as their vision gets blurry:

The night doesn't feel so cold anymore.

Atlas must have drifted off at some point, because they open their eyes to find Harmonia staring at him with wide, panicked eyes. He continues to prop their head up with one hand as he uses the other to press his jacket to their neck, trying frantically to stop the bleeding.

“Hhhhey… Don' worry, 'm okay… 'kay?” Atlas slurs his words a bit—a lot—more than he anticipated, which makes Harmonia look even more worried. “Mm… Pretty face shouldn't look so sad…”

Harmonia's expression turns from panic to flustered confusion.

“Wh—Pretty? You think I'm…?” He shakes his head. “Focus, focus—Are you really okay? Do you know where you are?”

Where… they are? Atlas lifts his head to look around—and immediately feels his vision gets spotty. The world around them turns into a swirling mess of gray as their head falls back into Harmonia's hand. Through the haze, they see him looking at them with those sad puppy-dog eyes, and the thought of scaring someone so kind snaps him back to reality.

“Uh… Roof… rooftop. On th'... the roof.”

Their voice doesn't sound all too confident, but the correct response makes Harmonia sigh with relief. He lifts the jacket slightly to check the bite wound, wincing at the sight.

“I—I'm really sorry, I didn't mean… I drank way too much, I'm so fucking sorry, I should've known better, fuck—”

“Hey hey hey…” Atlas' quiet voice cuts off Harmonia's panicked rambling. “D'you… feel better? Less hungry?”

Harmonia blinks. “Huh? I… I guess so? Yeah, I guess I do.”

They smile up at him, head still spinning. The world is a miserable blur, something he's never wanted any part in. One of his very first memories is leaning over the side of a bridge, too small to reach the top of the railing, trying to measure a distance greater than the number he could count to.

It's ironic. That was going to be their last memory, too. And yet…

In front of Atlas is the person who saved their life, in more ways than one. A person he barely knows, yet one who looks at him with so much kindness, one who treats him with such care. They can't pry their eyes away from Harmonia, even with the wind at their back reminding them of that fall. For the first time in his life, he's not measuring the distance.

Maybe it's a farce. Maybe this feeling of safety and peace is just a fluke, and Atlas will go back to being miserable after this is over. But if this is their last memory instead, they wouldn't mind.

“...Thank you.”

Harmonia blinks.

“I—Thank you?! Why are you thanking me? I just drank your blood!”

“No,” they say. “You just saved my life.”

He stares at them for a moment longer in disbelief before letting out a fond sigh, gently pulling Atlas in closer. Once they're close enough to rest their head on his shoulder, he slowly lowers his hand. Atlas whines quietly at this, which makes Harmonia laugh a little as he wraps his arms around them.

“...You saved mine too.”

[thewolfisawake]

It always feels like anything sweet I do with him is either actually bittersweet or ends up followed up with sads. Wonder how that happens.

I have been and still am working with what is up with Aspis. There hasn't been much about the curse because Aspis himself doesn't know much about it. All he knows is that he was at a point of dying when he was about eight from creatures that were not human and were ferocious. He, near drowning at that point, had made the wish that 'I do not want to die.' Someone had acknowledged this desire but that he would have to pay for that wish. To that point, his memory is fuzzy. There are flashes of his parents, his grandfather and flame that seemed to ignite his entire island.

His next memory is being in a hospital bed and promptly blacking back out because of this searing pain throughout his body. Consciousness hurt and he basically kept knocking out from how much it hurt. The best he can surmise is that he got acclimated to it to be conscious but many tasks felt enormous. He spoke softly because it felt like he was breathing glass. He was clumsy because it felt like he was walking on blades. His range of motion even within his hands to grip and write was terrible as it was like they were constantly banded.

Aspis did get used to it all with time. He noticed that it does feel like it 'ramps up' every few years or so but he is used to the tricks that it doesn't incapacitate him anymore. But he isn't perfect with it and he doesn't think he'll ever be with it. His main pitfall currently is his lack of registering what should be uncomfortable and awareness of injury. These are things like not moving his hand off a hot stove, getting straight up poisoned and going about his day, and the 'oh would you look at that, I've been impaled.' He usually plays it as he wasn't paying attnetion but honestly, he doesn't know what it's like truly. Because none of it registers any worse than what he feels passively.

He has noticed that it has changed as of late. Like it still hurts but that there's a different kind of hurt there. Maybe it was always there and it wasn't as rampant or to the threshold it has reached...Aspis can't say. However he has noticed that there is a fresh pain that comes to him in relation to his heart. Or rather when he experiences heartache. Not like he watched a sad movie but like experiences that we metaphorically say 'grips the heart' feels very literal to him and honestly feel like it plus it will rip him apart. By his luck it hasn't been experienced much with the latest time actually being from remeeting his godfather at the tournament.

Found by some variant of a certain event, both he and his closest friends (called by me and Kristen 'The Bastion Kids') are aware that Aspis has a sort of pseudo-immortality. His body can experience limits that should kill any human and it seems to shut down but always inexplicably restarts or never stops despite the implausibility. This doesn't stop Aspis from experiencing the horrors of his body literally giving up and coming back over and over in the situation. His mind does give the grace of like...not keeping him conscious for every bit of that or blocking it out after it has passed. However it doesn't look like he stops aging considering that he was eight when this started and he's well into his 20s at this point with no signs of that slowing.

What he isn't aware of--at least not fully--is that this curse goes all the way down to his soul. Take any way you want to manifest a soul. Flames, crystal, etc, etc. His is literally imprisoned by scrawl that work like chains and a brand. It douses, it creates a vise, it threatens to shatter its captive. And honestly? With time it likely would. It seems to be a curse that wants to prolong his existence while so very slowly extinguishing his very being. At least one that can view this sort of thing has told Aspis that they believe he could live a normal human life span. The problem is that by time he would reach that life span, every inch of him would have longed for release decades ago. Inferring that the curse will ramp up to a point that Aspis will not be able to keep up with it. And he will...for a lack of a better word, simply break. What that entails for him physically, mentally, and anything else, no one has any idea. HE has no idea and honestly? Probably doesn't want to find out either.

[newtabfics]

Can I request a spicy fic of reader suggesting to Astarion that they should play a 'prey and hunter' game in the woods, Astarion gives reader a head start. Eventually he catches up & he can't hold back his need to feed from his little love.

"Run. Rabbit, Run."

Triggers for prey/predator style roleplay? Blood drinking. Brief breeding kink. Come swallowing. Squirting. Very rough on Astarion's part but it's all good cuz safe words have been established :p

Note: Just know my simp ass is thriving. I'm sorry. My tism-hyperfixated on a white-haired anime boy again. Also I absolutely wrote this as Ranger!Tav x Astarion.

Astarion raised a brow at her suggestion. There was an undeniable thrill in his body. His voice lowered as they stepped into the woods. "Are you sure? I am…faster than you."

His eyes darted to your neck, licking his lips eagerly.

"Which is why," Tav chuckled, stepping slowly from his hand. Her steps took her back towards the trees as she faced him. She was just as thrilled and excited about this game.

"You're going to give me a ten-second headstart," She finished with a grin.

"Or," He cooed, stepping closer. "A minute. One. Two."

Tav darted into the trees, disappearing into the fog. Astarion's count echoed tauntingly through the trees. She couldn't help her gleeful giggle as she began to tug at the buttons on her shirt.

"Fifty-two…Fifty-three," He hummed almost lazily.

Astarion could hear her heart thudding. He could hear her blood rushing. He could hear her feet trying desperately to be quiet as she darted over the foliage.

His heart thudded with excitement.

"Fifty-nine."

He could smell her arousal.

"Sixty."

Like a whip, he darted through the trees. He found the trail of her scent as his feet barely touched the ground. His eyes locked onto a branch as he ran by.

Her shirt was hanging from it, as well as her undershirt. 

Astarion couldn't help the smirk as his pace increased. Her scent filled his senses. His mouth watered as he closed in. He barely saw her before he had her pinned to the forest floor.

Tav grunted when she was slammed to the ground, a hand sliding under her head to protect her from harm. He was on her, pressing his body into her as she stood with her torso bare to the world.

She let out a laughing sigh as his fangs latched onto her. His legs were keeping hers spread over his lap, grinding into her as he drank deeply.

His moan filled her ears. He pressed himself into her as his hands fumbled to undo her trousers and yank them away quickly.

Astarion quickly pulled his fangs away and licked at the wounds as her trousers bunched at her thighs. He folded her legs back and bent his head, tongue finding her folds.

"Fuck, Star!" She moaned quietly, writhing.

"Down, little rabbit," He snarled eagerly. "You're my hunt. Now I'll devour you entirely."

His tongue shoved into her needy hole. Her eyes fluttered and rolled back at the assault as she writhed on the forest floor, letting him take control of her.

Astarion's hands clutched the backs of her thighs, keeping her in place as he ate her out. He moaned as he tasted her, enjoying the flavor of her before his fangs found her leg.

Tav let out a low moan as she shook and rocked her his down. He drank from her leg before pulling away. His tongue lapped over the wound before returning to her cunt.

"Oh gods, Astarion," She moaned, arching off the ground.

His chest swelled in pride as he listened to her moans. It was like she fueled his hunger. He couldn't tell which he was starved more of; her blood or her essence.

Astarion pulled away, quickly shoving down his pants. "My darling," He groaned as he stroked himself.

He slid in slowly, relishing in her soft moan as he held her to him. "That's it, Darling," He groaned, feeling how tight she was around him. 

They stayed like that a long moment, relishing in the feeling of their connection. He was pressing deep into her, watching her pant and moan lowly.

"That's my good girl," He whispered, cupping her face and kissing her as he began to thrust slowly.

Tav's eyes rolled back as she arched off the ground.

"Look at you—such a good girl. You tried to run," He chuckled softly as he made sure to steady his movements. He relished in the way she writhed under him. "Darling," He growled, almost in warning. "What's the magic word?"

Magic word. Their rule. If she so much as uttered the word, everything would stop. She established it after they became a couple, insisting the word was for his use to ensure his comfort and safety.

"Stake," She whispered, cupping his face. "Star, please. Don't stop. Please don't stop."

How could he say no to her pathetic whining face?

"So good for me," He praised as he began to thrust hard into her.

Astarion grunted as he moved hard against her body, relishing in the way she writhed under him and moaned his name. Her eyes kept fixated on his as he watched her expressions.

She was completely lost in him. No longer was she the guarded ranger who composed herself to fight their enemies. Here in the forest, beneath a vampire, she was a woman in love with him.

"Fuck, I love you," He moaned, kissing her as he grinded into her. He smirked as she could only stutter and whine his name against his lips. "That's it, Darling. My good girl. Just let go for me."

He smirked as her eyes rolled back before hiding her face into his neck. He loved the way she lost herself in him. She always let him take control, always let him be the dominant. He just loved the way she submitted to him entirely, allowing him to treasure this vulnerability of hers.

"I-I love you too," She rasped out, shaking under him as he dragged out her orgasm. "I love you so much. Fuck, Star! Fuck, fuck, fuck." Astarion growled as he rutted into her, reaching down and rubbing her clit. He smirked as she began to squirt over his pelvis.

"That's a good rabbit," He praised. "Oh feel so good. So fucking wet," He moaned, angling his hips. He smirked as he bent, lips against her ear. "You know what little rabbits are good for? Hm? Do you, my good girl?"

She panted and moaned, cheeks hot with embarrassment as he began to taunt her. He was always a devil when it came to his words, she knew.

"I-I—Ah!" She gasped as his thumb kept rubbing quick patterns.

"Breeding," He snarled into her ear as his fangs gripped her neck again. His teeth claimed her as he kept fucking into her, listening to her yelps of pleasure. "Fuck, Tav!" He groaned into her neck.

He thrust hard a few more times, dragging out her pleasure before quickly pulling out. His hand pumped a few times before her body moved. He was shocked by her swiftness but couldn't stop his moan as her lips wrapped around his cock.

Astarion quickly gripped her hair tight and thrust into her throat. "Fucking good girl," He groaned, biting his lip as he finally began to orgasm.

Tav's pupils were practically consuming her irises as she drank down his seed, bobbing her head and sucking eagerly. Her hands cupped her breasts, using them as a way to catch the drops that dripped down her chin.

Astarion shuddered and looked down at her. "Gods, look at you. So fucking perfect," He muttered affectionately as he smoothed her hair with his hands. "My good girl."

Her cheeks warmed as he pulled away, letting her swallow the last bit of his seed before panting and sitting on her heels. 

His lips found her forehead before kissing her lips gently.

"So depraved," He muttered, smirking down at her. Her body was shaking as she knelt on the forest floor, pants bunched around her soaked thighs as his cum dripped onto her chest from her chin. "Such a messy girl."

Tav whimpered as his thumb swiped up his seed from her chin and pressed against her lips. He sighed happily as she sucked his thumb clean.

"Gods, I love you," He said happily, cupping her face. "Perfect little thing."

She smiled as he kissed her again. "I love you too, Star."

[justsalpals]

Kinda a spiritual successor to this post.

Tula is not clever.

She looks into the bright eyes of her children. Knows the cunning bearing of her sister. Trusts the violent willpower of her mother.

Tula is not brave.

The man she loved was bright and cunning and willful, until everything beautiful in him was snuffed out. Until his heart took its final beat. Until he went somewhere that she did not follow.

Her heart does not beat.

Not could not. Did not.

Tula is not clever. She doesn't have the wild solutions and dreams of her husband, reflected in the charismatic speeches of her sister's own partner.

What Tula has are claw and fang. She is a stoat, after all. She digs into life the same way she would the throat of a rabbit, fang tearing through flesh and mouth flooding with hot iron blood. She is scared, she is tired, but a hunt is a hunt and there are children to feed. She does not let go.

Tula is not brave. She cannot carry the same righteousness of her family, eager to take down the world should it dare to bare its teeth at them. She cannot afford to. Not when her children, her sister, her mother, her nieces and nephews that have yet to even blink in the light of day or feel grass under their little paws, still walk and breath and exist in this world that seeks to do them harm.

It seems an impossible task, to protect these few remaining parts of herself that Tula calls her family. How could she possibly be brave, when it takes everything she has left to be kind?

Her mother throws her to safety.

Her mother falls to the light.

Her mother crawls her way back to their sides.

Ava's heart does not beat. She will not follow Kenji just yet.

Like mother like daughter. They've always shared a stubborn will.

[tiny-minecraft-rabbit]

I saw you were still taking writing requests and your writing is very very good so maybe 5 or 11 with Joel and Jimmy?

Joel bumped his head against the stone wall of the hill side. He wasn't sure how long he's been sitting here, but it seemed like hours. It could have just been a few minutes, but with both of their heart rates high it was slowing down the time significantly.

"Jimmy," he sighed, the first words said in those minutes, "Why are you still afraid of me?"

He couldn't help but peek down into the crevice, the one that Jimmy had smushed himself into. He had though they had gotten passed this.

Getting trapped on a random modded server hadn't been ideal. They were still trying to figure out how to get off it, even after several days of pushing at the boundaries, but it wasn't like either of them were very knowledgeable in this kind of thing. The origins that had been forced upon them had only increased the difficulty, throwing them into instincts they had no clue how to navigate.

Joel had become a fox origin, something that he felt he would have been familiar with given he's had wolf traits forced upon him during life series seasons. He quickly learned, however, that having fangs and ears was nothing close to being part fox himself. His need to forage and dig and steal was dialed up to an impossible to ignore level. It made the serious work they had to do hard to not sabotage by pure instincts.

Jimmy had it worse. A bunny origin. Barely half a block tall now and the twitchiest he's ever seen him. Jimmy had never been an overly nervous or cautious person; honestly, he was prone to taking on battles he couldn't win more often than not. Now he could barely get Jimmy to stand in the same room as him.

It had gotten better over the last few days. Jimmy no longer ran for the nearest hiding spot the second he saw a flash of Joel's red tail or heard him grow at certain challenges.

Except for today it seems; and today was worse. Joel had growled and yipped at a grizzly bear, a bloody custom mob on this forsaken server, and the combination of two predators had sent Jimmy's rabbit heart into a frenzy. He had ran off and dug himself into the smallest hole he could find.

It took Joel ages of panicked searching to find him. He thought that just telling the bunny origin that the bear was gone would be enough to get him to climb out himself, but the moment Jimmy had seen the shine of Joel's eyes he had scrambled to push himself further into the hole.

That brought them to now. Joel had sat back for a few minutes to let Jimmy relax, but the quiet wasn't working.

Jimmy shifted, which Joel heard more than he saw due to the fact that the space he had shoved himself in was so small.

"I don't know," Jimmy finally answered Joel's question, "I'm just... I don't want to be. It's hard. I've been this small before, you're well aware of that, but this is different. Everything feels so big this time. It's like I'm the smallest guy in the world everything wants to kill me for it."

"I don't want to kill you," Joel said, trying to keep his voice low.

Jimmy went awfully quiet to that.

"Jim?"

"Are you sure you don't want to kill me?" Jimmy asked, so quiet Joel was pretty sure he only heard it because of his increased hearing.

"What is it going to take to get you to trust me?" Joel asked in response, trying and failing to push down the absolute devastation he felt at those words. Jimmy had been so afraid of him these last few days, Joel knew it was bad, but he didn't realize just how scared his friend had been of him.

Jimmy took a deep breath, "Do you... have a carrot?"

It took all of Joel's restraint to not bark out a laugh right then and there, managing just to only snicker as he dug through his inventory. "That's all you need?"

"No," Jimmy answered honestly, "But it'll be a start."

Joel nodded and pulled out a carrot, dangling it in front of the hole. Jimmy crawled out and he had to take it in both paws, it nearly as big as him. He slowly sat next to Joel, leaning against his side, and Joel did everything in his power not to shift.

It was a start.

[hedwig221b]

Breathing heavily, Derek turned around and marched out of the room, trying to rein in his wolf. He knew he lost control over his appearance: the skin on his face tickled with growing fur, sharp points of deadly fangs dug into his lower lip.

Derek had to see him. Right now, to make sure none of them got to him, to see for himself that Stiles was safe and whole. That the boy was his, still.

Not a day has gone without him dreaming of Stiles. He was a constant presence in the wolf’s mind, driving him insane with want and longing.

No, Derek would never leave him, never give him over to another’s dirty hands. He’ll fight for the boy till death. Tear apart anyone who had the misfortune of touching him.

The door opened after three loud thuds. Derek didn’t have any space for guilt in his heart at waking the undoubtedly tired Stiles up, all of it taken by irresistible want.

Stiles’ eyes were wide open in surprise and just a tiny bit of wariness. His hands were clutching the soft white nightgown, keeping it closed over his naked chest. Derek’s gleaming red eyes followed the tantalizing length of his neck, stopping at the sight of his bare collarbones, peeking out of the gown. A pink sleepy blush adorned his cheeks, cupping his soft half-opened lips.

They ought to have the sweetest taste.

Both of them stared at each other in silence. Stiles was probably too shocked that Derek approached him again at such a late hour, nonetheless; Derek, however, lost any train of thought upon seeing this exquisite being, so teasing in his innocent softness and naïve trust. Anger left him all at once, leaving him breathless at the sight of the angel.

“Don’t open the door so readily,” Derek’s mutter was akin to a rumble. “You’re too beautiful for that.”

Stiles’ breath hitched and his heart started its quick rabbit pace again. He frowned a bit as if Derek’s compliment somehow offended him; he probably didn’t even realize his lips formed into the cutest pout. The most delicious prey was in front of Derek, and he couldn’t even have a taste. Not yet.

He wanted to kiss the tips of Stiles’ long fingers, bite into the soft insides of his thighs, leave marks all over his neck and trace the helpful path of his moles leading to his devastating lips to kiss and claim and take.

But Derek couldn’t do that for fear of spooking him. It was too early. But how could he possibly leave him right now?

Derek gently took Stiles’ slack hand, his heart stuttering at the sight of it, small in comparison to his wolf’s one. Miraculously, Stiles didn’t pull away. Derek lifted his soft hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to his knuckles, then on the inside of his wrist, before inhaling.

The bright red of his eyes reflected in Stiles’ soft brown ones. The blush on Stiles’ pretty face deepened and traveled down, calling to Derek’s predatory instincts to follow, to lick and bite.

“I know you don’t trust me,” Derek grunted. When Stiles inhaled to retort, Derek caught his chin and pressed a finger against his lips, making the boy freeze in place, eyes impossibly wide. The wolf in him howled at the sharp scent of arousal emanating from his body. “Don’t argue. I expected it. Wolves don’t trust easily, too. I just wanted you to know that… I’m sorry. I was selfish and didn’t see what was in front of me. You don’t need to worry. I’ll take care of everything.”

It was a thought that grew in his mind, spread to his heart and took root there, reincorporating into a deep desire and a vital need. Derek will take care of him and his little pup, he’ll bring the hearts of his enemies and put them at the boy’s feet. He’ll court and he’ll conquer.

“Lock the door,” he said, forcing himself to step away. “Don’t open until the sun rises.”

Once again, Stiles said nothing. He blinked as if coming out of a stupor, then gave a tiny nod, before slowly closing the door, casting inquisitive glances at Derek. The door shut with a soft thud; a heavy lock slid into place with an unpleasant scrape.

Derek leaned towards the door, knowing that Stiles was probably leaning on it to eavesdrop. Curious kitten.

“Good boy,” he murmured and laughed soundlessly at the shy squeak on the other side, followed by hastily retreating footfalls.

The smile felt unfamiliar on Derek’s ferine face, and he lost it quite quickly. This precious boy made it so easy to feel joy again, almost uncomfortably so.

If only Stiles chose to never leave his side, the wolf would bring him the freedom he craved. It will be his final courting gift. Stiles had no idea what he got himself into by allowing Derek’s name to fall from his lips that fateful day a year ago. He would soon learn the true power of being under the wolf’s protection and possession.

He’ll never have to fear and pretend ever again. His sweet boy. His Stiles.

Read the whole story on ao3

[rjthirsty]

I asked a friend to give me two characters for a random writing prompt. Gilbert and Chevalier from Ikemen Prince were chosen. I asked my wife to pick a number 1-100, and #37 was chosen from this list.

I present to you, "Stop talking or tomorrow won't come." Starring Gil and Chev.

"You've frightened the Little Rabbit, you know." Gilbert's voice was heard before he was seen, coalescing out of the darkness. A black shadow that faded into the deep shadows of the night. Chevalier hadn't even felt his presence, but he was used to that by now with Gilbert. He wasn't wrong. Just moments earlier, Emma fled from him after seeing him at the riverside.

"Covered in blood, showing her the beast you are, that was not the move I thought you would make." Gilbert continued. His cane made a muffled thump as he moved closer, rhythmically sounding out with every step, like an even heartbeat. He was attempting to rile Chevalier up - a foolishly childish ploy.

"If you wanted to be rid of her, there are kinder ways. You really are a villain." Gilbert's voice was cheery despite the admonishing words. Chevalier could see his smile in his mind. He didn't need to turn towards the man to know exactly the way he was gleefully leering at him. How annoying.

"It must be heartbreaking for the object of your affections to run from you. It's so embarrassing. The Brutal Beast bares his fangs and claws at the one he wants most to absolve him of his inhumane nature. Ahaha. I can solve that problem for you."

"Ridiculous." Chevalier muttered. Gilbert surely intended to offer to run him through to solve his problem. It wouldn't solve anything.

"Wouldn't it be better for her to weep over your corpse than shrink away in fear from you?" Gilbert was right next to him, now. He stopped, and Chevalier could see Gilbert tilt his head as if he expected an answer from him.

"Stop talking. Or I will ensure that tomorrow won't come for you." Chevalier leveled an icy glare at Gilbert, frosting the air between them. He had spent the day purging traitors near the border but was still able and ready to take Gilbert on by himself. Just one more word, and Chevalier was ready to start their first and final fight.

Gilbert simply smiled. Whether he took Chevalier's threat to heart or not was not clear, but the Obsidian prince said no more. Giving a shrug, Gilbert turned and strolled back the way he had come. Cane beating a steady rhythm muffled by the grass. Disappearing back into the shadows like they had swallowed him up. Chevalier's cold eyes staring the direction Gilbert went long after he had vanished.

[astarionspointyears]

It’s been written a thousand times before, but here’s my take on Bite Night.

Hunger had always been the worst part of being a vampire spawn. Well, not the worst part, but certainly the most annoying. It was constant. An ever-present ache in his stomach that never let him forget what he was, even for a second. Astarion had become accustomed to it over the years. But that was when he was only luring targets back for Cazador and not fighting for his life every day. The hunger he felt now was something else entirely. It was a sharp, all-consuming feeling. Every instinct he had screamed at him to hunt, to kill, to feed. He could think of nothing else.

The day had been especially long and difficult. Starting with a long trek to the goblin camp in which they fought off group after group of redhats, and then killing that useless Priestess Gut. Astarion could feel himself slowing down, making mistakes. The squirrels and rabbits weren’t cutting it anymore, he needed something more.

Astarion’s eyes passed over the camp. The night was hot with almost no breeze. All was quiet around camp, his companions were sleeping. Even Scratch was sprawled out near the dying fire, his tail thumping softly against the ground every so often. He supposed he could try biting the dog, but that was risky. Scratch was liable to smell him coming and would alert the others, or otherwise attack him. Anyway, Astarion was sure his companions would not take kindly to him making a meal of their favourite pet. So who would it be, then?

It couldn’t be Karlach or Gale. He valued his life too much to even try for Lae’zel. That left Shadowheart, Wyll, and Tav. Any of them would do - blood was blood, after all. If he was being honest, Astarion quite liked Tav. Sure, she was a bit naive and just loved to play the hero, dragging them into quarrels they had no business with. It was both annoying and endearing. Tav was also the only one who genuinely made him laugh, the only one who sought him out for conversation. Astarion thought he could make her like him, if he tried hard enough. So should he risk biting her and breaking what little trust they had built? Astarion’s head said no, but his stomach said otherwise.

With another glance around to ensure everyone was still asleep, he crept over to Tav’s tent. The flaps were open to try to coax in a breeze. Tav was wearing only underwear and lying on top of her sleeping bag. Astarion could both hear and smell the blood rushing through her veins just below the surface of her skin. A pang of hunger hit him and he had to choke back a growl.

‘Thou shalt not drink the blood of thinking beings,’ Cazador’s voice echoed in his head, and Astarion paused. He was pretty sure he was no longer under Cazador’s control. Whatever the tadpole did to him, Astarion couldn’t feel the invisible leash that had tied him to Cazador for so long. But did that mean he would never be again? What would happen to him if Cazador found out he’d broken a rule? What new torture would he have to endure? Astarion swallowed the fear that threatened to rise up in his chest. He’d worry about Cazador later. He was leagues away in Baldur’s Gate, and Astarion would have to deal with the tadpole first.

Astarion turned his attention back to Tav, who was still sleeping peacefully. He leaned over her, his eyes focused on the pulse point in her neck. His lip curled up almost involuntarily to reveal his fangs. Another pang of hunger hit him like a lightning bolt, and he made his decision. He was going to do it, Cazador be damned. If Astarion had a heart, it would have been racing. He leaned in slowly, teeth bared and ready to strike.

Tav’s eyes flew open. A glint of steel in the moonlight, and a dagger was at Astarion’s throat. He staggered back, throwing his hands up in surrender. “No, no! It’s not what it looks like!”

“Yeah?” Tav sprang to her feet, holding the dagger out in front of her. “What the fuck is it, then? Are you robbing me, or trying to kill me?”

“Neither, I promise. I wasn’t going to hurt you. I just need…well, blood.”

“What?”

Tav looked him up and down. Slowly, as if she was taking in every detail. When she got to his face, Astarion saw her eyes widen and she took a step back. “A vampire? You’re a fucking vampire?”

“A vampire spawn,” Astarion said, as if it made a difference.

“I can’t fucking believe it!”

Astarion looked around to check if anyone had heard, but all was quiet. “Keep your voice down,” he pleaded. “I’m not some monster. I feed on animals. Boars, deer, kobolds - whatever I can get. I’m just too slow right now, too weak. If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer, fight better.”

Tav’s eyes narrowed. “You’re asking to drink my blood?”

“Well, yes,” Astarion said. “Please.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“At best, I was sure you’d say no. More likely, you’d ram a stake through my ribs. No, I needed you to trust me. And you can trust me.”

They looked at each other for a long, silent moment. Tav regarded him skeptically, her eyes searching his face for answers. Astarion could almost see her wrestling with herself as she took in what he’d said. Then, she lowered the dagger and tossed it to the side.

“I do. I believe you.”

“Thank you,” Astarion sighed in relief. He’d live to see another day. The relief was short lived, though. He was so hungry, and being so close to tasting her blood made him a little wild. It took a lot of restraint for Astarion not to lunge at Tav right then.

“Do you think you can trust me just a little further? I only need a taste, I swear.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Just lie down, and try to relax,” Astarion said. “I’ll be gentle.”

“Gentle,” Tav said with a laugh. “You’re about to drink my blood.”

In fact, Astarion didn’t exactly know how to be gentle. Gentleness was not something he needed to think of when he was living on vermin. But he didn’t want Tav to struggle, lest his teeth miss their mark and kill her inadvertently.

“As gentle as I can,” Astarion amended. “I won’t make it hurt more than it needs to.”

Tav sat down and laid back on her bedroll. “Not a drop more than you need,” she warned. “Or I’ll ram a fucking stake in your chest.”

“Understood.”

Astarion knelt beside her. Tav lifted her chin to expose her neck. Once again, Astarion felt the excitement rise in his chest. Instinct took over as he brushed his teeth against Tav’s throat to feel for the artery. He found it, then instantly bit down. Blood gushed forcefully into his mouth and he couldn’t help but moan with satisfaction. Tav’s blood was sweet like ripe summer berries. Astarion’s whole body tingled and buzzed - he felt almost alive. Something in his brain purred with pleasure as the hunger slowly receded.

“Astarion,” Tav whispered. She tried to push him away, but Astarion wrapped a hand under her head and held her tighter. He couldn’t stop now. Blood dribbled out of his mouth and down his chin as Astarion gulped down more and more. It was satisfying, invigorating, intoxicating. He drank deeply, savoring the taste.

“Astarion!” Tav said, a little louder. She shoved him hard in the chest and managed to twist out of his grasp. Tav scrambled backwards and away from him, one hand gripping her throat.

“I - of - of course,” Astarion stammered, breathless. “That - that was amazing.”

Tav didn’t say anything. She only stared at him with eyes wide as dinner plates. A long, silent moment passed between them as they both struggled to catch their breath. Finally, Astarion realized how much he’d actually drank. It was probably a little further than he’d meant to go, but gods she was delicious.

“Are you all right?”

Tav nodded. “I - I think so.”

“I apologize, I was swept up in the moment,” Astarion said. “But it worked! I feel good. Strong. Happy!”

“Does it always feel like that?” Tav asked.

“Like…like what?”

Tav shrugged and shook her head. “I don’t know. Never mind. I look forward to seeing you fight.”

Astarion heard the uncertainty in her voice. There was something she wasn’t saying, but he didn’t want to press her. “It shouldn’t take long, so many people need killing,” he said as he got to his feet. “Now if you’ll excuse me, you’re invigorating, but I need something more filling.”

Tav nodded and Astarion turned to walk towards the tree line. He really did feel amazing. His mind felt clear for the first time in centuries, his body stronger than it ever had been. Was this what it was like, to feed on thinking beings? Was this truly how Cazador always felt? The thought made Astarion hate him even more.

Though perhaps it wasn’t all thinking beings. Perhaps it was Tav, specifically Tav, that made Astarion feel that buzz. Her blood tasted so exquisite, it was as if she was made just for him. It was difficult to imagine anyone else being so…satisfying. Could he convince her to let him do that again? Astarion thought he probably could, if he played his cards right.