#cw bites

[starwarsanthropology]

Fox passed out having a Hell Of A Time

Full version here

[lulublack90]

Prompt 20 - Hurt/No Comfort

@wolfstarmicrofic July 20, word count 796

Part three of werewolf Sirius

Previous part First part

CW - Blood, torture, attack, cuts, bites

The wolves were all pretty subdued after the eventful night. Most were dozing and the rest were either eating or relaxing around the camp. Sirius was sitting beside Remus, tucking into a big bowl of that mystery stew. Remus was lazily running his fingers up and down his back. 

“Tell us how you got captured then,” Marcus suddenly said. “Remus won’t tell us your story, but now you’re here, and he isn’t being such a stroppy git, can we hear what happened?” Sirius turned to Remus.

“It’s up to you, sweetheart,” Remus told him gently. Sirius opened up his mind, deciding it would be easier to show the gathered wolves what happened than try to retell it. He closed his eyes and remembered that rainy night when he and Remus were supposed to be on an easy-guarding mission.

“Why does it always rain when it’s us?” Sirius grumbled as he shook his long hair. "It's always perfect weather when Potter's about," Remus sighed at him and produced two umbrellas from inside his robe. Sirius took it gratefully. But in the split second, the umbrella was blocking his view, as he opened it, they were ambushed. 

“Hello, cousin,” Bellatrix cackled as they were stunned. 

They awoke in a dungeon. 

“Remus?” Sirius croaked, “Remus?” A groan from the other corner let him know where his boyfriend was. He crawled over to him and checked he was alright. He had a swollen cheek, but that seemed to be about it. They held each other in the dark. 

Days passed and no one came. They were both getting nervous as the full moon was coming and Sirius had discovered they’d been given magic suppressants in the water that was sent to their cell every day. They stopped drinking, hoping the potion would pass through their systems before the moon rose. 

Sirius tried again and again to transform into Padfoot but nothing happened. Remus began to ache and stayed as far away from Sirius as the tiny space allowed. 

When Remus dropped to the floor and began to scream, Sirius banged on the door and shouted for help, but no one came. He tried to change into Padfoot right up until Remus stopped writhing around on the floor. He backed into the opposite corner and waited for the inevitable. 

The gigantic wolf shook out its fur and sniffed the air. Moony prowled forward, his teeth glistening in the small amount of light that made its way into the dungeon. The wolf didn’t even bother moving quickly, he taunted Sirius with how slowly he moved towards him. Moony shoved his massive nose into Sirius’s chest and sniffed. Sirius thought for a split second that maybe Moony recognised him and wouldn’t hurt him. But then the wolf lifted its enormous head, looked him straight in the eyes and bit down, hard. Sirius screamed, the pain was unbearable. 

He woke up alone, covered in his own blood. He pulled away his tattered shirt and assessed the damage beneath. Deep puncture wounds marred the skin around his shoulder. He knew what it meant, but he didn’t care, all he cared about was where Remus was.

Finally, after another week in the dungeons, Bellatrix appeared. 

“Bella, please, where’s Remus?” He begged her to tell him, but she just smiled her insane grin and cast the cruciatus curse on him over and over, leaving him once he passed out. She came down on the morning of the full moon and tortured him. His body was already in pain. She just laughed at him when he pleaded with her not to, not today. He didn’t last long, which must have pissed her off as she cast a slicing charm on him as well, and he woke to dozens of thin, itchy cuts all over his body. 

The moon rose and his first transformation started. It was hard. It hurt more than the bite had and way more than anything Bellatrix could ever do to him. His bones broke, his tendons snapped, and his blood felt like it was boiling inside his veins. He threw his head back and screamed until his voice gave out. He didn’t remember much after that, just a few snippets of pain and fear. 

The transformation back to his human form was just as painful. He was exhausted by the end of it. He curled up into a ball and wept. 

He ended the story there, putting his walls back up and walked away from the camp, needing a moment to collect himself. It was even harder reliving those hard months below Lestrange castle. Tears dripped down his face and onto the dusty ground below. He didn’t want to be here any more, but he felt that leaving wasn’t an option for him either. 

Next part

[sacredsapling]

All Inktobers/Angeltobers so far! Many prompts are credited to @sancta-seraphina and @ultrainfinitepit

[the-dye-stained-socialite]

if ur still doing kiss meme, 🎲 for the Scrimshander to kiss Elias! (refs can be found #T6FS)

kiss after a bite!!

[catsharky]

Ember please you're gonna kill him

Rewinding back to the Last Light Inn cause I haven't tormented Rolan enough. Ember's got zero shame and no interest in getting dressed before breakfast (she's worked nights for 2 decades so the fact she's awake before noon is a miracle, honestly)

If Rolan didn't owe her big time she would be getting the dressing down (hah) of her life.

The Rolan Comic Part 1 • Latest part

[orcatnip]

"The worst she can say is no" Bro.

Also,

Love seeing this 300lb bird be thrown around like a ragdoll

[paintedcrows]

Some Oldies in the 80s AU sketches! Grunkle Stan and Young Ford this time.

They are so funny to me. Like to me Stan is completely secure in his relationship with Older Ford. He has just spent MONTHS alone on the open ocean with the guy. Nothing this Young Ford can throw at him can compare. Ford, still a bundle of ego and grudges, has no idea how to respond. Also Bill is a menace

[odetokeons]

♱ Nosferatu (2024) dir. Robert Eggers ♱

+ bonus

[xitsensunmoon]

Popular trope haters begone I love my comfort cup of cliche

[hawnks]

You're jealous. It makes you lash out, makes you meet Keigo with claws and teeth and cruel, irrational accusations.

You pack a bag after your last big blow up, shame dogging your every move. A week. Maybe a little more. However long it takes you to stop feeling like a monster, to rein in these dark impulses that have taken hold of you.

He stops you at the door with a firm grip around your arm. Looming over you, leaning down until he's in your space.

"Why?"

How can you even respond. Why? Isn't he angry with you? Doesn't he see how unreasonable you're being?

You tell him the truth. "I'm embarrassed, Keigo."

His hold on you tightens. "So you're running away?"

"I'm not--" You let out a long breath. "I just need to calm down. Get a hold of myself."

"You can do that here. At home."

You tug. He doesn't release you.

"I don't want you to see me like this."

His expression turns stormy.

"You want to keep secrets from me?" You can't even question this before he's continuing, eyes amber bright and sharp as he pulls you further into his space. "You don't want me to see you what --jealous? Don't I have a right to know? Don't I deserve to be with you for this? We're lovers, and you still want to hide pieces of yourself from me?"

Trembling, you let yourself be drawn back into the penthouse. You couldn't fight him even if you tried.

He sets you on the bed, so he can push you down, curl up on top of you, all around you. Caging you in.

"There," he says. "You're not going anywhere. Would it help if I told you about all the times I wanted to kill anyone who touches you? How about how I want to lock you up, forever and ever? I can show you the collar I picked out, if that would make you feel better." He leans up so he can nibble your ear, whisper, "Or you could put it on me, if you want."

[lets-ignore-that]

Hear me out

"Saturn eating his son" painting but bite of 83 /j

nom nom :)

[xazse]

Cw: A/b/o dynamics + Omegaverse + Alpha!Satoru x Omega!Reader x Alpha!Suguru + my Abo dynamics are different so sorry + mentions of anal + smut + knotting + crying + size difference + biting

If you’re meant to be Sugurus Omega that means you’re definitely Satoru’s, you don’t get a choice they’re a package deal, they can’t stand being away from one another so they went against everything that alphas stand for and bit each other: now fully intertwined with one another.

Suguru yearned for you, he knew he had to have you, those nights where he was ravishing Satoru and feeling something was missing, an itch he couldn’t scratch, he hated it, he hated how rough he’d get with Satoru even though the blue eyed man said he enjoyed it so much.

Knotting Satoru was something he loved but the thought of knotting your little cunt alone drove him mad, made him so hard he’d think about it all day, constantly having to go “adjust” himself.

When he finally had you, he went absolutely fucking mad, he couldn’t stop smelling you: you smelled like cookies and vanilla. He couldn’t stop licking your soft supple skin, your spongy cunt that he’d have to finger for a good while to get you ready.

And of course he’d have Satoru by his side just as thirsty for the sight of you, he’d be fondling your tits and giving you long drawn out kisses that you’re eager for, like a puppy.

There was no argument about who got to fuck your cunt first, that was always going to be Suguru, he was gonna be your first for your ass as well.

His leaky redden tip lined up with your awaiting slick hole, his counterpart distracted you with sweet words, Suguru couldn’t afford to be sweet right now, he slams his fat cock in one swift move, the whines that spill from you do nothing but egg him on. He pushes your legs toward yourself and the sound of skin meeting skin feels the room, he fucks your soppy pussy so messily, he’s been craving this for so fucking long, he’s constantly readjusting his long hair that he doesn’t bother to put up, your pussy is just the sweetest thing.

When his fat tip starts to swell inside of you, you’re crying into Satoru’s kiss, he knows it hurts, your first ever knot is always gonna hurt he tells you in a comforting tone.

You don’t know it but Satoru absolutely is obsessed with you also, you look so cute crying trying your best for them, trying your hardest to accept Suguru’s fat knot, youre small compared to them and he loves it.

When Suguru bites you, all you see it white, he isn’t surprised that you passed out, you’re gonna have to do it all over again when it’s Satoru’s turn.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 17 - Hospital AU

@wolfstarmicrofic April 17, word count 995

CW- Cuts, Animal attack, Bite marks

Sirius stretched across the gurney, carefully holding his cup of coffee so he didn’t pour the scalding liquid down himself. 

“Hey, James. How long have we been on shift?” He asked his equally prostrate best friend. James groaned as he lifted his arm to check his watch. 

“8 hours.” He yawned. They were on the night shift, and the cases were either dull easy to diagnose stuff that could have waited for a GP in the morning or total calamities. 

He raised his head to take a sip of his drink when his pager went off. 

“Damn it,” He cursed as he dodged the liquid that came flying out of the cup. “That was close. I almost marred my beautiful face.” 

“Come on, urgent call to A&E,” James told him, grabbing him and jogging down the hall. 

The room was utter Bedlam. People were shouting at each other. A nurse was carrying a handful of bloody cloth to the hazardous waste bin. More nurses were fitting IVs and monitors to the patient lying still in the bed. Nurse Evans moved out of the way, and Sirius got his first glance at what they were working with. 

In the bed lay a twenty-something young man. Who could have been quite good-looking but now had long gashes across his face, one of which sliced his face in half from the corner of his eye, across his nose and finishing just above his lip. Sirius sucked in a breath as he took it in. 

“That’s not the worst of it.” Nurse Evans warned. Sirius glanced down as his eyes darted across the rest of his body. There were more slashing cuts, and the soft flesh of his waist and abdomen had huge puckered holes dotted about in stretched-out crescent arches. 

“Are those bite marks?!” James exclaimed, moving closer to the man. Nurse Evans nodded. 

“His back is all cut up, same as his front. Whatever attacked him got him good.” She sighed. “Poor man, he’s going to be in a lot of pain and shock when he wakes up.” She handed over his notes to James and busied herself cleaning the wounds. 

Sirius couldn’t take his eyes off the man.

“Do these look like dog bites?” He questioned as his fingers ghosted above the damaged skin.

“They look too big but definitely canine. Wolf, maybe?” James screwed up his face as he tried to figure it out. 

“There aren’t any wolves in Britain.” Sirius objected. “Where was he found?” 

“Er, notes say in the car park next to the—oh, for crying out loud. Next to the woodland park.” James scanned the text.

“Still no wild wolves in Britain,” Sirius muttered, only half paying attention to James. 

He grabbed some of the disinfection materials and helped Nurse Evans clean out the wounds. James began spouting off multiple tests he wanted to carry out and leaned over Sirius. Speaking quietly so only Sirius could hear him, he murmured.

“Be careful, yeah. I’ve seen that look before. Don’t get too invested.” Sirius shook his head. 

“I’m a doctor, James, I care. That’s all it is.” He lied. 

“Make sure it is,” James replied, knowing full well Sirius wasn’t telling the truth. 

Nurse Pettigrew appeared with his camera and began documenting the wounds in case it was a police matter. 

“Should I send these to a bite specialist?” He asked Sirius and James. James nodded. 

“Yes, that way, we will know what we’re dealing with. Send a couple of the slashes as well. I swear they look like claw marks.” Nurse Pettigrew disappeared as quickly as he’d appeared after taking countless photos and only disturbing the cleaning once to get shots of the man’s back. 

It took hours to get the man’s wounds cleaned and sutured. He’d had multiple scans, including a brain scan. To make sure he didn’t have a brain bleed. But he didn’t wake up. They weren’t worried yet. His body had sustained a lot of damage, and nothing in his scans showed any reason for him not to be conscious. 

Sirius’s shift had ended hours ago, but he stayed sitting at the man’s side. James had tried to convince him to leave. 

“Sirius, he’s a patient. You need to leave. Please don’t get overly attached to him. You don’t even know anything about him.”

“He’s all alone, James,” Sirius sighed. He already knew he was treading the line between a caring practitioner and becoming too personal with a patient. “No one has called looking for him. The police say no one matching his description has been reported missing. It’s been hours. How can no one be missing him?” James sighed at Sirius as he roughly ran his hand through his hair.

“I know, I know. Just be careful, Sirius.” He clapped his friend on the back and left him to it.

Sirius slept in the uncomfortable visitor’s chair. He kept waking up to check on his patient, but he was always asleep. Morning came, and one of the Nurses brought him breakfast and took the patient’s vitals. It wasn’t until the afternoon, a full 24 hours after he’d been brought in. The man’s eyelids fluttered. Sirius watched with bated breath as slowly, slowly, the man regained consciousness.

“It’s okay,” Sirius said in his most calming voice. “We think you’ve been attacked. You’ve got a lot of cuts, so I need you to keep still so you don’t rip any stitches. But you’re safe, and so far, no complications.” He realised he’d taken the man’s hand and promptly dropped it. “Sorry,” He mumbled under his breath. He watched the man wiggle his now free fingers. Sirius’s training finally kicked in. 

“I’m Doctor Black, Sirius. Do you know what your name is?” He asked as he pressed the call button. The man thought for a second. 

“Remus Lupin.” He said faintly. 

“Well, it’s lovely to meet you, Remus Lupin.” Sirius smiled at him as Nurse Evans wandered in.   

[sacredsapling]

All of this year’s Inktobers! Many of them were for Angeltober prompts by @ultrainfinitepit and @sancta-seraphina

I had a lot of fun participating in Inktober for the first time, and definitely plan to do more!

[kacchanthebride]

[rinachains]

true form!sukuna x gn!reader; mentions of cannibalism; sukuna deals with emotions (kind of); biting as a love language

The king of curses, seated on the soft upholstery of his bed with you facing him in his lap, ogling one of his bare arms as you trace the defined, bulging muscles with your fingertips, would surely paint an obscure picture to any intruder.

You’re so small underneath him, his cursed energy draped over you like a veil – shielding and trapping you - and he could crush you so easily, in a matter of a few seconds, and nothing and no one could stop him - except for you. And you don’t even have to do anything. You’re just sitting there, sharing each other’s warmth, while he observes you, one pair of his arms holding your sides, the other crossed over his chest. That’s all it takes.

Sukuna isn’t a whirlwind of emotions, he’s simple and aware of what feelings reside in him; he’s in control of himself. Not a victim of weak, futile desires. Not like other humans – that’s what makes him superior, a king.

So he knows how he feels about you; but not knowing what to think about it and what to do with it, he decides to listen to what his body and his mind are telling him, and he even finds himself listening to that irregular beat hidden behind the resilient muscles on the left side of his chest, one that he believed he’d never hear.

He once mistook the pit in his stomach for mere hunger, so he ate and he ate, but the hunger didn’t vanish, he was never fully satisfied, so he kept on eating and eating, tearing into flesh after flesh. Assuming that he was cursed with an unfulfilling life – a repetitive routine of killing and eating presumptuous humans who dared to cross him, providing little to no entertainment  - he figured that nothing would change and that he would continue to go on with this life.

And then you came along, and he felt hunger overtake him. However, it was different from simple hunger, it wasn’t just a growl in his stomach – there’s another spot inside of him that he didn't know existed until he met you. And that spot is reserved for you and you alone. No one else can fill it.

His mouth itched, his fangs ached, and he wanted – still wants - to devour you, but not in pieces, but all of you. Your whole, entire self.

"Are you hungry?" you break the comfortable silence, gaze still lingering on his arm, as you realize that this would usually be the time for him to eat his first meal.

"No."

"No?" Surprise drips from your voice at his answer, one of your brows lifting in disbelief.

"My hunger is satisfied for the moment. I’ll eat later."

That makes you peer up at him for a few seconds, an indecipherable expression, before returning your attention to his arm.

“Hmh, alright.”

Another few beats of silence pass, and then, suddenly, your fingers stop dancing along his tattooed skin, replaced by your hot mouth as it latches onto him.

Sukuna makes no noise at first, the muscles in his face barely moving as if he anticipated your attack, but you can feel his fingers twitch and then tighten around your sides, his strong arms visibly flexing.

A low chuckle emanates from him at your attempt to break his thick skin, your eyes momentarily flickering up to his face at the guttural sound that shakes your body.

You’ve become shameless, he notices, unrestrained craving swirling in your eyes that is usually found in his own when he’s around you.  

His tongue drags along the sharp tips of his canines, glinting at you. The image of a menacing predator, dangerous and meant to frighten and devour you, yet you find yourself melting willingly into his arms, the claws digging into you granting you security.

To him, your bites are akin to tickles, like nips that a cat gives its owner, and his first instinct is to laugh. He doesn’t, but the urge remains.

Instead, Sukuna’s face splits into a wide grin, “And what exactly are you trying to do?”

All four of his piercing eyes are pinning you in place as he stares down his nose. Sukuna isn’t sure what to focus on, so he takes his time to memorize every single feature of your face, from the curve of your cupid's bow to the soft flutter of your eyelashes casting shadows across your cherubic cheeks. 

“What do you think it looks like?” you grumble, your voice muffled by your mouth still pressed against the resistant limb, “I’m trying to bite you the way you like to bite me, Sukuna.”

He used to demand that you call him by his proper title, yet he finds that he doesn’t mind the lack of title slipping from your lips as much as he thought he would; it’s second nature to you, rolling off your tongue so effortlessly, and it tastes like nectar from the sweetest flower in his mouth.

“You’re trying so hard, aren’t you?”

You huff, “Don’t mock me.”

“I’m not. I respect your effort. It’s amusing – but it’s also welcoming.”

There’s a raw sincerity behind his words that you weren’t prepared for, causing you to put some distance between your mouth and his arm.

Sukuna’s waiting, patient and with mild curiosity.

A wild flame of affection ignites in his chest as he watches how hard you, a mere human, try to put some damage on him, the desire to claim lurking behind every caress of your teeth.

Want swims across his normally indifferent face, something other than vain lust, nothing perverse or violent, but something that goes even deeper, more vulnerable. It takes root in his chest, threatening to burst forth and fall into your waiting hands, ready to catch it.

“Are you proud of yourself? Are you giving it your all?” Sukuna taunts, his controlled voice slightly strained as he pokes you in the face, making your nose scrunch up.

He sees how you almost flinch, all four of his eyes tracking your every move attentively, but you try to keep a nonchalant demeanor, acting unaffected, and not pulling away. You’re not scared – you’re merely sensitive to his touch, Sukuna notes.

He levels you with a smirk; as if you’re an amusing little thing, his personal jester.

“Don’t hold back,” he warns you, maroon eyes burning into you, heavy with intent. So you don’t.

Your soul enters Sukuna before your teeth do, and he can't - doesn't want to - stop it.

There’s noise, emerging from the back of his throat.

A wave of ecstasy washes over his body as you finally manage to draw blood, lapping at the small wound with your tongue, the sting sending goosebumps across his skin and briefly blurring his vision.

You hold him in the palms of your hands without realizing it, your teeth - your pitiful, useless fangs - unintentionally releasing venom that spreads through his guts, paralyzing him against your electrifying touch.

Sukuna’s immune to poison – he himself is a lethal poison - but not to your venom; for it is not filled with poison, but with something else, something he can’t quite identify, having never experienced it before.

One of his hands tangles in your hair, holding your head in place, urging you to continue on with your gentle assault.

“C’mon, try harder. You can do better than that.”

You could tear him apart for all he cares, and he’d let you. Chip away at the flesh that protects his bones and swallow his cursed energy until it merges with your own. Become one.

Sukuna wouldn’t fight back, wouldn’t protect the gaping wounds you have inflicted upon him, and to him that is the strongest sign of devotion he could present you with. And you’d understand.

“Are you even feeling anything?” you ask him as you withdraw from his now marked arm, forehead creased and lips pursed.

Removing his arms from his chest, he brings one of his hands up to cup the underside of your jaw, the gesture oddly tender. His thumb glides along the plush, pillowy flesh of your lower lip that is stained with blood – his blood – and he relishes how the single digit covers your lip completely, and how the lids over your eyes grow droopy, that particular look sending a tingle down his body.

“I’m feeling everything.”