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cryptfile · 5 months ago

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Ꮺ˖˚₊ leeches, [ logan howlett x vampire!reader au ]

summary — logan howlett lacks of patience (and he can also be a nice little blood-bag while losing his temper). 8k+

warnings — 18+ mdni, fem!reader implied, blood kink (keep in mind you’re a vampire! not twilight but more of a true blood kind?) downright filth im sorry, dead dove do not eat, smoker!reader, endless tension, manhandling, praise kink, kind of porn without plot (LIES CAUSE IT HAS ONE THO??) my boy's into paaaaaain can't help it it's canon, age-gap at first (reader is her 20's but again, vampire), public sex (it just happened), daily reminder to wrap it before you tap it, p in v, choking, filthy mouth, pet names.

side notes — thought this could take place after days of the future past? au cause why nottttt ,,currently on ovulation season so bare with me,,, been a little mia cause i’m surviving aka going through the worst semester of my life at uni? internships are breaking my ass currently so well, here i am just existing, also, english’s not my first language and everyday i’m grateful for it, so any mistakes i’m not sorry in advance lol i’m also too lazy to correct once published,, feel free to send more logan requests since i've basically been a slut for him for a while now (i'm rotting in hell).

He could swear the mansion got ten degrees hotter when you came in.

It’s inevitable. It’s this thing you carry, the way you move — Graceful, elegant, almost compelling as the air fills the room. It’s not public knowledge that you’re not a mutant itself, yet you’re presented like one, like you have healing factors and age painfully slow, but human after all, a subtle lie, one that can harm no one.

It’s safe to say you catch his attention in the most annoying way: How couldn’t you? All you do is this weird seduction he’s appealed to, whether you’re conscious or not it’s just captivating, an invisible force that even when you ignore it is there, there waiting for the perfect moment to flood every time you happen to be in the same room.

Captivating. That’s the word.

The room becomes smaller after, the air grows thicker, and it’s almost like a ticking bomb, the way you wouldn’t even look at his face while he’s noticeable pinning after Jean Grey, the mystery that surrounds you and he cannot seem to resolve no matter how much time he puts into it.

It’s like he's the plague. You don’t really try to exchange more than just a few words, only when it's needed and you cannot avoid him any longer, and he didn’t say anything at first, keeping his distance too cause he don’t see how you’d become friends, cause after all, what he could have in common with a girl that doesn't surpass the twenty years?

But soon he's upset about it, even when he doesn't really say anything out loud, it's a spike he cannot reach under his skin. You seem to become friends with anyone but him, mutant kids in your history lessons, the rest of the team, even the damn mailman when he delivered a package — You'd say hello like it's a long time lover or so, greeting people like they mean the world to you.

He has students now that are asking for a transfer from his class to yours cause it seems you're fun to be around, more like he is, and he fucking hates it.

It's fair to say it's been getting into his mind lately. That thing you do with your hair, twisting it in your index finger on a lock as you speak, the subtle red glow in your eyes he always catches by mistake, not enough fast to stop looking at you, pretending he didn't even see in your direction at first.

Tension. Logan just happens to hate tension.

In fact. He's almost sure your problem is personal, that you might hate him enough to act like he didn't exist at all, enough to avoid him like he was not there.

That's why it's just so weird.

When he finds himself walking down the hallway to the kitchen and he smells this cherry-scented aroma that settles under his nostrils, he changes the direction he's walking to, to instead, follow the path to the person that was silently smoking outside. Hiding. Maybe, a student he'll have to scold like the old man he was turning into.

No smoking in the mansion!

However, as the night is just settling, he doesn't recognize a little mutant, but instead happens to recognize you in the middle of the gardens of the mansion, close to the maze; escaping the comfort of the inside to enjoy a self-rolled cherry tobacco he has smelled before in the air. He's a victim mostly, cause his legs move on it's own as his mouth go dry, approaching you in silence.

"What do you want?" you ask when he's halfway there. And your tone is just cold as ever, not an ounce of feeling as he contemplates your side profile, the way the tobacco sticks out of your parted lips, seated on a bench hidden between bushes and trees — "Is Scott bitching about the smell going into the mansion already?"

No. He's not. But he doesn't have enough reasons to explain exactly why he's outside if you asked, why, all of sudden, he followed the scent of cherry knowing it was you the only one who carried a colts package in the pocket of every single jacket you wore, constantly asking Storm if she could hold on to the bag of filters for you while you rolled in the worst moments.

It's distracting, to say the least.

"Yeah," he quickly says, lying cause in reality he hasn't seen the guy in the whole day, yet it sounds like something he would say. "Do you happen to have another one of those to share?"

You don't talk much, hand reaching his as you offered him from your tobacco without a single word, the same that was placed between your lips and now was on his in what seemed to be something more intimate than what he'd like to admit, the cherry taste filling his lungs as they weirdly enough, shared a cig.

"Aren't you too young to be smoking?"

You laugh, and the sound sends a shiver down his spine cause he has never heard a sound quite like it, nothing that resembles that throaty, raspy sound that came out of your lips in amusement thanks to his words. He, out of all people, has never seen you like that — "And how old you think I am?"

He seems to think about it for a second, carefully picking his next words. Logan knows that women and their age are a tricky thing, you cannot say a number that's too compromising, nor act stupid and say something that's clearly not correct — "Not a day over twenty-two."

The answer pleases you, and he just knows he's wrong, but you don't seem bothered by it, instead, you nod pretending he's right, like he just got the answer right away.

He can see why everyone's switching classes now. Cheeky bastards.

"Twenty-two is not young at all, but i'm twenty-seven though," you say, and he scoffs at the statement, seeking for any change in your heartbeat, any sign of a lie. The strange thing happens when he cannot pick any heart at all, any sign of pulse.

"You are pretty young still," he says, against his age, you’re just starting out living—. "You don't look like you are twenty-seven at all."

"Cause I age slower than the rest," it's a practiced lie. One you know from repeating the same explanation over and over again, the priced answer of why you haven't changed a single bit in the past few years and made you a mutant — "I never looked my age."

Such a fucking liar. He doesn't need any heartbeats to confirm it cause deep down you are a terrible actress, he can see it so clear, how you're calculating every answer, thinking about the correct thing to say, the normal thing to say.

"Is that your thing?" he asks, playing pretend almost as bad as you do. Tilting his head to the side as he questions you — "Age slowly?"

"I have healing powers," you explain as he tossed you the joint once again. "My saliva kinds of help healing wounds. It's pretty boring."

"Boring" Logan repeats. The word itself sounds so damn fun in your lips it's contradicting. "That doesn’t sound really boring."

There's a moment of silence after that. Where you smoke in silence taking in the taste of the cherry, and he is having a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that your lips also touched the side of the cigar he was smoking before, the plain lies you've been repeating over and over the last ten minutes.

It's almost infuriating. Makes his blood boil without question, he surely endures your treatment of silence, but being lied to? That's a whole different level.

“How old are you, kid?”

Your brows furrow in response, a clueless face. You are pulling out this show once again Logan don’t buy for a damn second. Something about the scrunch in your nose, the way you dismissed your own powers as if they weren’t enough. He knows it’s all a lie. He knows it even when he doesn’t really know you at all, when it’s the first time you’re truly speaking to him after your arrival to the mansion almost a year ago.

“How old you really are?”

You laugh at the question once again, and he just knows it, knows it when he sees you barely illuminated by the dim light of the moon, the act you always keep up, a web of tangled lies you have to be into— “Told you i'm twenty-seven already, didn't you hear?”

“Is it now?” he asks, amused by the sass, exhaling the smoke of the low-quality tobacco he doesn't understand why you're so invested in when passed it to him—. “Cause you don’t seem very convinced, it really sounds like bullshit to me.”

You're almost offended. By the look you give it's like the worst mistake he could ever make, yet you remain silent, not giving the satisfaction of an honest answer yet. Testing his patience like he did have one to begin with.

"Is that why I can’t hear your heartbeats, darlin'? Cause you age so slowly?”

The nickname scratches a part of your brain, and you hate him for it. The word rolls out of his tongue with an accent, smoking your cherry tobacco cause you happen to be nice.

“You can’t?” you’re good at faking it suddenly, at least, that's what he thinks when your brows furrow in alleged curiosity, stiffening your back, uncomfortable. “How weird.”

“Damn right it is” that's when you realize he knows you are lying. Even when you don’t talk much, even when you act all stiff and bothered when he’s close, he knows that you are fully invested in lying. In whatever twisted little lie you've planned, like it was your real life and not something you made up. “Are you going to tell me truth, then or do I have to find out? Does the professor know that you're lying?”

The smoke lingers in the air.

“How old are you?” he asks once again, demanding an honest answer this time — "Thirty? Thirty-five?"

You find his questions annoying, mostly cause he won't stop until he gets an answer, one that pleases him enough to leave you alone, the other part cause you happen to like the playful banter you two keep going, dangerously much. You don't hate attention it's clear, what you do hate it's the way he seemed to see pass the lie, to demand more even when he has no right to.

He enjoys being the one who's right though, Logan cannot help it. He's pleased to catch that look on your face who says everything but nothing at once, to have you where he wanted, almost at the edge of admitting a truth.

Is it payback because you've been stealing all of the little mutants from his class? He's jealous cause kids like being around you? It does not make much sense, but he is fully invested. Questioning all.

Even when you're outside, it seems like the air grows thicker. And Logan finds himself seeking for your breathing, cause he don't know nothing, nothing about you more than the fact you don't seem to have a heartbeat, or pulse and now, breathing.

“If you really are that eager to know, i'm a hundred and twenty-seven” the words float in the air for a while, and he's sure you're just messing with him, cause there's no way a pretty little face like yours had endured a century. “I've been alive for quite a while.”

He doesn't fully believe it first. Of course he doesn't. Logan's sure you're messing with him also, distracting him about your real age.

“And I supposed this do come from you slow aging powers” He tries to give you a point there, but it's difficult to be serious when you're just playing with him—. "How so?"

To be honest, you do have a little temper yourself, you've learned to stand up for yourself most of the time, so when you happen to notice he's teasing you, that he doesn't really believe you, you adopt this attitude of defense he notices as you shift over the wood you're seated in.

"No, it doesn't" you steal the joint from his hands to have a smoke yourself. "You really aren't as smart as I thought you were, huh?"

Do you happen to have a dead wish? His muscles tense beneath his shirt, and in contrast of his problem, you can hear it all. All the sounds his body makes when he's all bothered just by the beat of his heart, that annoying sound his bones make each time he moves.

"What are you?"

"That's it," the praising goes directly into his chest, the tone you use to tell him he's going in the right direction it feels just so right he forgets why he got mad in the first place—. "That's what you should be asking right there."

It's almost a shame having to admit he would also switch classes. That he would also go through all the paperwork himself without a second thought and that right there, is pathetic, but you're smiling at him as if you're encouraging the man to try harder, to find the answer himself, and fuck — He's old, too old, he's tired, he's in a bad mood as fucking usual, and he happens to dig a drink in the quiet of his own room, but he's pulled by something as equal as devastating as the gravity force, shoot towards you in pure need to have some answers even if he has to make you spit them.

"I find it strange, cause when you don't have a heartbeat, you aren't usually alive" Deep down he's fascinated, hazel eyes glues on your face trying to understand. He feels like he has it in the tip of his tongue waiting to leave his mouth as a catastrophic answer, but he doesn't find the right words.

"That's cause i'm not," you state it like it's something obvious. And just as he knows you're lying, this time, he knows you're telling the truth, blowing the smoke in his direction just to bother him — "Why do you think i'm teaching history after all huh?"

He hasn't seen it all, it seems.

Yeah.

He's losing it after that night.

It’s known that Logan has sleeping problems, but that night specifically he thinks about something else rather than what usually torments him, a truth he also has to keep a secret now that he's learned more about it.

See, Logan doesn't expect you to be really dead. Much less to hear what you are and have been hiding this whole time from the rest of the people in the mansion — He also learns that you feed on blood, that vampires are a common thing in the world and that he shouldn't, at least, be that surprised when he's a mutant in a world full of humans himself.

You are a folklore myth on small villages, stories in Rumania and horror character in films, so you don't blame him when as you spoke, he finally understands why you're so damn attractive, so damn seductive as you explained more about your way of living, some memories you've been keeping to yourself since being a vampire was so damn solitary, memories he listens to cause he knows what it's like, to be misunderstood, to be eternal, to be alone as well.

It makes the two of you grow closer by the next weeks. You now talked during broad daylight about random shit at first, about the war sometimes, about your condition as he refers to when people is around, eaves-dropping on what you two are talking so invested in. Friends.

Simple as that.

And it's safe to admit also that in the course of the next days, Logan Howlett is a fucking mess, and he knows it, but he won't do anything about it.

He won't flirt cause he knows you're a hell of a woman, in every good sense of the word, that he's way too damaged for a vampire even, for all kinds of people out there, and as much as he'd like to say anything, he values your attention, how you switched the attitude of acting like he didn't exist to be a friend, one that you came to share secrets with a cherry aroma glued in their skin.

It gets him insane, to the point he's no longer spending much time with Jean and people start to pick up on it as if he didn't have enough headaches already. He doesn't care. Shit you are not bothered by what people say, and to be honest, he cannot seem to care either.

At first, he's reluctant of keep on talking to you as normal as it is. He's not really invested in religious themes, but he sure admits you're a sin by all meanings, a religious experience of some kind if anyone asked him — He agrees with what he has heard also in the hallways. Innocent conversations of teens and their platonic crush on their teachers. You are pretty hot.

He's so interested in knowing more about you, about the nights you spend in Rumania, when you leave to Canada, the different lives you've lived across the years. He finds himself looking forward to share his stories too, weird enough, cause he's over two centuries himself and he just craves to talk about it with someone who also gets him in a deeper level, that weariness that fills your body when you age so long.

You got the best of immortality, and instead of feeling envious, Logan finds himself attracted to you so much like he's never been in his whole existence. Not at the point it happened with you at least.

By the end of the first month he knows your little treats. You use a lot of sunscreen, and avoid activities outside as much as you possibly can with those classic, tiny black sunglasses that hided you from the rays of the sun, always in the shadow so unapproachable; how you'd usually dismiss food offerings from anyone who's kind enough to even offer you something, and when you haven't fed well during the course of the week, you'd become the most maddening woman he'd ever met.

Maddening.

"What wrong with you, Leech?" Leech. You've been in such a bad mood lately that when he's seating next to you in another random smoking session outside, your fingers twitch, clearly pissed at the nickname after saying multiple times you don't like it.

"I'm not in the mood for plays now."

He can tell from before. When you talked to him that very morning and stared at the collar of his flannel for what it seemed a good, nice minute, he realizes the same moment that you were staring at that pulse point in his neck, where the flesh blood was pumping in his blood flow: You're hungry, as any living creature would be and at your own manner, in constant control as you fight the sense of hunger.

So instead, the mutant ask, like he always does when he’s curious about something that involves you:

"When did you last feed?"

"A couple of weeks ago."

That would explain it. You don't talk much about your meal plan, he knows the professor is in charge of all of that. You've told him about blood bags and hospitals, but he's not really aware of how constant you need to eat, how the blood supplies most of your energy, makes you stronger, gives you vitality, so Logan at first, don't really know what its like to not drink any blood in the course of two weeks.

"What happened with the blood bags from the Hospital?"

The mention of blood out loud seems to triggers you. A groan escaping your lips as you can swear you feel the taste in your mouth — "Don't know. Haven't seen a single one this week, Charles said something about next week, problems in the bank I guess."

You're clearly worked up. It's a new look he hasn't registered before, your hair is tangled in a less-composed look, and there's a slight shake in your hands as if you're going through withdrawal, deprived for what you needed the most.

"And animals?" he questions, trying to find a solution. “Can’t you eat a cat or something?”

"Like shit i'm going to feed from a fucking animal," you're almost immediately grossed out, scrunching your nose at the idea. "I can barely handle being so close to a damn human but animals? I'd rather fucking die this time for real, no waking up."

"That bad huh?" the mutant asks, taking a sip from the beer he sneaked outside, chucking lightly afterwards. "So you're a leech with elegant taste, huh? Of course you are."

"Clean blood is rare," you explain, rolling your eyes. It's inevitable. He knows you hate the nickname so much that he insists to keep on calling you that way just to get a reaction—. "Humans nowadays taste like dirt. They consume drugs among other substances, pills, food supplements, even damn vitamins, don’t get me started about blood diseases cause it gets me in a bad temper. Every single thing affects on your taste, even what you eat. It's all registered there. Clean, good blood is rare to find. Call me elegant, call me picky. It's a damn fact."

"And what about mutant blood?" he questions. And it seems like a mere phrase at first, one with no subtle tones, he’s usually curious about your nature so you don’t pay much attention as he spoke—. “You’re picky about mutants too?”

“No, i’ve never had a mutant before.” The truth is, you hate feeding from people, the act being something so intimate, so damn personal, you refrain yourself. Killing humans, picking a next victim to fed on, is considered now a treat you don't appreciate from your kind, making you steal from hospitals and any kind of blood bank before Charles offered you help. You haven't fed from a mutant, cause you avoided everyone equally, but you don't want to be rude about it. “You all smell different, but i’d be lying. Maybe yes, i’d be picky about it too, feeding is something intimate.”

It's an undeniable admission, and now that he's trying to be in your position, he would also be picky about someone's blood. Logan remains stoic cause he’s suddenly filled by the thought of something else, a glimpse of his own weird creativity he forces himself to push aside, to really suppress now that it's not the time or the moment.

“How do I smell?” It's too late to stop the words from coming out of his mouth when he asks her. And at first, is out of pure curiosity. He has never encountered a vampire in his life until you, let alone had someone talking about the subtle tastes of the blood being undead, so he doesn't want to let the opportunity slip — Of course he wants to know if an over two hundred mutant like himself would be as remotely good as a fresh, clean bag from the hospital.

"You stink like wet dog," he surely deserves it after all the times he’s been calling you a leech — "Like those cigars you tend to smoke, alcohol, and musk. It's similar as wood. That smell you got when you're in a forest and it's not raining but straight pouring."

"Is this a way of telling me i'd taste bad, peach?"

You make a mental note to let him know after you like peach way more than leech.

"If i'd found a human smelling like that, you won't be hearing from me anytime soon" you're just messing with him. A playful banter you enjoy more than ever, the distraction you needed to think in something else rather than the blood bags you craved so deeply — "Hell, i've would just walked the other way."

"So i'm taking you won't be feeding from me anytime soon."

It all takes a dark turn there. You're very aware of the tension the last month now that you talk to him in daily basis, but it’s just mere tension, nothing that ever goes beyond the limit. Logan has never said something to flirt with you despite the million chances he got, and he always remained like a friend, one that you enjoy spending time with now. Cannot be blamed when you're taken aback.

“Cat got your tongue, kiddo?” Man. You're about to whine about the name before you remember he is indeed, older than you are. Vampire or mutant.

"You want me to feed from you?"

He seems so willing when you ask. Even when you teased about his smell calling him a wet dog. He just seems so eager to let you just do it, try a mutant for the first time.

"Yeah," he dismisses it like it's not something so deep — "I doubt Charles is going to let you take a bite since you could clearly kill him, and I'm not sure the others would be pleased with the idea of you sinking your teeth in them, so yes. Me, leech."

Logan Howlett doesn't really smell bad. And you don't know why cause he has all the ingredients to fucking stink, yet, you'd call him interesting. That's what you thought when you find his pulse point again, the vein in his neck you looked earlier in the morning, thinking just as the same you were thinking now.

Of course you would feed from him. Is it a good thing to do? No, in any other circumstances you'd decline. He's your friend.

Now? You’re having a hard time.

"So I'm guessing that you're pleased with the idea, then," Real talk?, you just want to hear him say it. He doesn't talk much usually, but now that he's very vocal about what's on his mind, you have to take advantage of it—. "I'm not sure either. But I do think Storm may be interested too."

He seems content with the response, taking a long sip from his beer before adding — "Please, go and ask her so you're less annoying."

You're almost completely sure he doesn't find you annoying. You also don't care about Storm. And maybe he knows you're not going anywhere, that you're not moving.

"You really want me to bite you?"

"I dunno now, princess" he looks at you pleased now cause he got you where he wanted to, cause he managed to awake all the interest now that you're looking at him "Are you going to pull a Dracula on me?"

"No, i'm not going to suck you dry if that's what you're asking."

Logan chuckles. He's a damn masochist. It's been like that as long as he can remember. It may have to be with his healing powers cause he likes it more than usual, but the idea gets to his head soon enough, all falling so damn fast: Your breathing would be against his neck and he'd take the bite like a damn champ.

"Yeah I can handle you," he says, aroused. "You're not gonna hurt me if you take some blood. I'll be fine and you won't be a pain in the ass."

He acts so gruff about it but you hear the sound of his heartbeat already high enough to wake the entire mansion, his labored breathing since he suggested the idea himself. He digs it, strange enough. Thrives on the idea.

He's a grown man already, and he can take a little leech like yourself.

It's clear you're hungry, cause it doesn't take much for you to accept, nodding like you're defeated, like you just lost the war entirely, cause there's no many options here to take and even if it were, you are now interested in have him more than any other blood bag. In fact. To hell with the hospital.

"Okay."

It's a simple answer, and it sure works with him as you get close to him, the bench you always used to sit now seeming so small as you look around confirming you guys really are alone—. "You won't tell anyone?"

It's something stupid to ask, cause after all that time he has never said anything, keeping your secrets as if they were his own, saving you from weird questions people get sometimes as they didn't know much about you. He's clearly not going to say nothing at all.

"Are you going to stop whining for a second and just eat darlin'? Cause I might change my mind here."

He's feeling overload soon after.

You don’t need a formal invitation to lean closer to his neck.

There's no way to describe it also cause he has never seen something like that, never felt a similar sensation more than when he's fucking, the cold touch of your fingers in his chest, taunting the vein in his neck without a previous warning before leaning in even closer than before—. "Stay still" you demand, face close against his bare skin, only one goal in mind. "Don't move for a minute. Just-"

You cannot finish the sentence, and Logan can experience the sporadic pain of the bite first hand when your teeth finally sink in his neck, piercing the flesh so easily as you let the blood fill your mouth. He grunts at the sharp pain, his face contracting momentarily before it's replaced by a nice wave of pleasure, one that hits him right in the guts as he grabs you by the nape of your neck, pushing you against him, almost demanding you to be closer, to keep on taking what you want, what you've been craving for two weeks.

When did he turned into this perverted sick? Getting off by something so primal as the fact you're feasting on him.

The feeling of your lips and the clear suck you gave when feeding are sending him into a spiral, and to be honest, he didn't expect to be so devastated by you, by the way your fingers stay against his chest to prevent him from moving, pinning the mutant between the wood bench and yourself so he won’t move, won’t do anything unless you want him to,pressing on the wound to draw more blood out.

"You heal so damn fast," you complain, looking at the traces of your bite with an unpleased face as they disappeared on his skin as fast as you created them.

"Then bite me again. I don't care."

You chuckle before leaning once again, and you can feel how the air grows hotter than how it was usually, the shift on his breathing as you bite him again, pressing on the wounds once again just to suck.

And you’re hungry, it’s the whole deal. His taste differs from what you believe at first, a huge change from what humans taste like, from what you’re used to deal with in hospitals. There’s a subtle taste of alcohol yes, but it mixes good with the sweet taste of honey, the weird taste you cannot put into words. It must be a mutant thing for sure cause it’s thicker than usual, a mix of flavors that explode in your tongue.

The headache you suffered from the whole week seems to dissapear as you drink in, feeding the monster you responded to in your stomach, demanding you to make him bleed more, to satisfy yourself until you can’t have any more.

Logan, on the other hand, is really fighting against his very own war.

You’re already close enough, but he just wants you damn closer, as much as he possibly can. It’s clear that well, it hurts slightly, but he has endured much worse, means nothing when it’s the pleasure that comes with it who strikes on his body, the light sucking, the idea you’re full of his blood, that you are not on trouble as you were before thanks to him. All because of him.

He's not used to acts on his impulses, but he does it anyway.

"C'mere" he says in a strangled voice, Logan's having no trouble moving you around, grabbing you by the hips to make you straddle him, keeping you glued to his neck as he doesn't want to disturb you—. "You really are a pretty leech, huh?”

You hum against his skin, pleased at the contact, and when he realizes you’re not complaining about his actions, he let his fingers grip your tights, keeping you against him.

You can hear him making this sound, quite like a moan but not exactly when you’re licking the holes you left in his skin, he does heal fast and don’t need any of your help when you’re done, but you coat his skin with your saliva anyway just to speed up the process, cause you want to do it, looking down to him after to check if he’s pale or nearly dead. You never really know.

And Logan himself is just fine cause his fingers gather the blood under your lip when he takes the sight of you sitting in his lap as the pearly white rays of moonlight makes your skin shine, and he pushes them inside your mouth so you don't waste any drop of what it can be considered food.

"So what's the final verdict?" he asks as his hands are now grabbing your tights, there's something so intimate about the moment, so personal, hot as he presses his fingers against the flesh of your muscles, he understand what you said before—. "Do I taste like utter shit?"

"Well, i’d need another taste to have my final decision" he laughs, and he don't really laugh often so the unexpected sound sends a shiver down your spine now that you’ve heard the sound quite a while now—. "Not much, just a little."

“Have you fill then, peach” He encourages you. “I want you full so you don’t whine the rest of the week.”

You don’t have any heartbeat, but if you did, it would be ragging in your ears at his words. At the warmth he’s spreading like a disease on her body that, despite being dead and cold, you can feel more than ever.

“I like peach,” you admit, this time pressing a soft kiss before directly hurt him—. “Leech is annoying.”

He’s going to say something, tease you about it maybe but he’s interrupted by the nice feeling of what he considers are your fangs tearing his skin apart, familiarity hitting him all sudden as he moans, a rough sound that comes from the deep of his throat, hands coming down to squeeze your ass, making you gasp against his neck when you experience the aching need physically forming in his pants.

“Still,” you say, concentrated on not allowing the wounds to close. But at the lack of complaints on what he's doing, Logan’s hands kept wandering around, making you move against his now clearly stiffed cock—. “Fuck’s sake I said still.”

“Stop being a damn brat. You can eat while I move you,” he grunts annoyed, shoving you against him, the friction of his jeans against the thin fabric of your shorts is enough to keep you quiet: Feeding from a stranger and feeding from a person you’re attracted to are two different things, especially in the position you find yourself in. “You don’t have to do anything. Quit whining about it.”

In response, your fingers press against the wound, not caring if it hurts or if it bothers him, but just enough to get him to bleed more and prevent the cut from closing, lapping at the blood that gathered over his collarbone, staining his white tank before you could even avoid it.

Your fingers grab the fabric just to pull it slightly down so it won't bother you, and the deep sound his chest make when he mocks about your desperation is stuck on your brain for the next couple of minutes, indulging in his taste, shutting up the rest of the world.

A moan comes out of your lips, muffling it against his skin. You're too zoomed out to hear it, but he's on a hell of a ride too, moaning as he demands more. It's been a while since the last time you did something like that, combine the pleasure of something as primal as eating with a mundane activity like sex, so you kind of forgot how good it felt, blaming yourself from depriving from something so needed.

"Do you always get this turned on when someone bites you?"

"No" Logan answers as you finish. He's rock hard beneath you, and he lets you know it when he's controlling the movement of your hips, working you against him at a slow pace—. "See, the woman i'm trying to seduce don't usually bite me, nor make me their main dinner plate."

You whine at the friction.

He looks down to the cause of all his damn problems just to notice his pants being damped with nothing but a physical form of need, soothing the uncomfortable fabric of his blue jeans — "So wet for me already, you’re making a damn mess, do you always get this turned on when feeding?"

Cheeky bastard.

He's using your own words against you, and you cannot be less bothered as you laugh softly, licking your lips only cause you know there's dried blood in them, drowned in his smell, the honey taste that lingered in your mouth.

“No, I don’t.”

At the sight, Logan's hand grabs your jaw in a rough movement, making you look at him before making you kiss him, deepening the contact as fast as you give him the chance. His tongue is soon invading your bucal cavity as he takes control of it, slow, intense and needy, as if he was holding on so much time before giving in to his own desires.

It is something like that.

You don't need to breathe in daily basis, but there's a burning sensation in your chest of wanting, of infinite lust you've been also experiencing by yourself.

The old mutant can taste his own blood in your mouth, a metallic taste as he keeps on kissing you until your lips are pink and puffed. He has thought so much about it that now that he has the opportunity, he devours as if he's a starved man having his first meal in what seems are ages.

"You didn't tell me if I tasted bad."

You think about it for a second.

"I'm afraid you're a rare breed cause it doesn't make any sense" You don't need any help now moving, cause you're rolling your hips on top of him at your own pace, allowing him to use his hands for something else—. “You have all the ingredients to taste like shit, but it's nothing but the contrary, even better than the fucking blood bags.”

“Sounds like your going to make me your meal plan, darlin. I’m here offering you a hand and you just take everything,” — “Such a greedy little vampire.”

He doesn't seem to care though, same as before he's nothing but willing to let you take everything as much as he tries to bark about it. He's more worried about his hands now that they're sliding down your oversized shirt, tracing patterns over your stomach, his touch so hot against your usually cold temperature.

"Logan," you whine,— "Someone can see us out here."

"Now you care about that?" his hazel eyes are a shade darker when he speaks. "After you're nice and full of my blood?"

His hands are big enough to take your whole cunt, allowing his digits to roam over the fabric of your underwear, almost thanking you for using those loosened pajama shorts he has seen before that very night as he just takes the fabric and pull it to the side.

"Nobody is going to see us. It's late and everyone's sleeping, leech" he teases you, and you cannot bring yourself to care about the nickname at the feeling of his hand taunting you from over the fabric—. "If you can bite me here outside, you might as well take my cock here too."

You cannot battle against that. You're deep in whatever spell he puts you into, giving in to the attraction and the tension that now needs to be taken care of. Logan's fingers touch you in nothing but experience, cause he knows how to please after so much time alive, how much pressure he needs to apply to leave you plain dumb, pliable for him.

"D'you think I need to stretch you out before fucking you?" he asks against your neck after leaving a reasonable-sized hickey in the zone, he likes the idea of people finding out about what you've been doing with him the next morning. "Or you're a big girl and can take me all by yourself?"

He'd like to take your time with you. Thoroughly enjoy you as much as he wants to, let everyone know you're his now, that you're shuddering thanks to him only, but he's too needy for that, too deprived of you to take his time.

"I want you to use that pretty mouth of yours and talk to me," he demands, coming up to look at your face while torturing you, his index and middle finger rubbing your clit from over the underwear—. "I'm not properly touching you yet and you're losing it already, peach. C'mon, you can talk to me still."

"I can take you," you say in a strangled voice. "Please Logan, please."

It's the plea of your tone that gets him, the soft begging of an ache he can only soothe, your face while you ask for more, not aware of anything else but him.

"Please what?"

"Please just fuck me already," you ask in frustration—. "I just need you to fill me up for a damn while."

You are starting to love the sound of his laugh. The deep sound he makes when he’s really enjoying something, his voice in damn general.

"Be a good little vampire" He says in a gentle tone. Logan’s trying to be kind even when his touch is so rough. "Unbuckle my pants and take my cock out. My hands are busy now, and you can do it yourself."

He is busy indeed. Toying with your underwear being the only thing that’s keeping him from the direct contact, pushing the fabric against your hole as it works as a barrier, preventing his digits to fuck you as he’d like to. He’s busy keeping you in place, preventing you from downright melt as your hands came up to unbuckle his belt first, the sound of the metal as it moves filling the air for a couple of seconds before you put all your attention in the button of his jeans, the zipper coming down with the force you’re using.

“Yeah baby,” he praises—. “You’re doing so good, keep going.”

When you pull the fabric of his briefs down, he’s already leaking for you, pink head, slightly curved to the side, moaning, erratically how much he needs your hands on him, how you're wet and ready for his cock. You close your fist around him, stroking slowly as your hips lift up enough to position yourself on top of him.

He’s big. Damn fucking right he is, you’d expected it from before cause sometimes you swear you can see his full length in his jeans, but taking him in your hand is a struggle but itself.

“Are you going to take me yourself or do you need my help? I know you can.”

Despite his words, he does help. Grabbing the black fabric of your underwear to finally make it to the side, the tip of his dick pushing against your clit before he's the one to place it in your leaky hole, forcing himself slowly, giving you time to take him in, inch by inch.

“Good girl," he says, head rolling backwards for a brief moment as he experiences the warm sensation of your walls surrounding him, clenching against his cock as he keeps one hand on your hip, helping you as you lower yourself over him. "Let me look at you.”

His fingers grab your jaw, squeezing you as he makes you look back at him, pushing you once again as you holded a loud moan. He's stretching you at his need.

"One more time," he begs. "One more time and you got it, peach. You're almost there."

Jesus fuck. You can feel yourself getting dizzy. You've drank a lot of blood and you're now overwhelmed by this intense pleasure that formed in your lower stomach, gathering there and waiting for the perfect moment to explode—. "Fuck I-"

Logan's pampering you with kisses as a mere distraction, his lips travelling through your neck to your collarbone before you're finally seated on top of him, a muffled moan you need to shut filling the calm of the night.

"Fuck you're tight," he exhales, and he's lost in the sensation, the way your velvety walls welcome him inside. He stays still for a moment, giving you time to adjust, to make you the one who starts moving on top of him.

You can see his veins popping up. All over his chest and coming down to his shoulders and his arms, and god gracious — He smells so fucking good you’re tempted to ask if you can have a bite again.

The moment feels longer than usual, the seconds pass slowly as you stay there. Logan’s hands are just touching your skin from under your oversized t-shirt, taking in the low moans you gave him, the almost perceptible whispers as you get used to him, to his size.

He likes the intimacy of it, the bliss. Man you look so pretty in his lap when the light of the moon is stripping you all to his eyes, even if you’re fully dressed an he’s seated in a damn bench, he cannot enjoy it more, pulling you in for a needy kiss, one that is rougher than the first one and leads you to move inevitably.

His cock pushes past that nice spot inside, and the friction is enough to make you move again, rocking your hips at a slow pace for a few seconds. The sound of your moans is silenced by his demanding kisses, and now that he knows you can handle him, his grip on your hips turn more firm now, squeezing the skin there so he can control your speed, the rythm of your movements now faster than before.

“Shh, don’t whine” what he lacks of vocal usually, he pours it all in just fucking, talking you through it when he feels you’re being too loud—. “Do you want to wake the others? We can’t have them seeing you like this, all fed up and cock-drunk.”

“Let me bite you again,” you ask soon enough. And it takes a lot to do it, cause you’re doing it out of pure greed, cause you can’t have enough.

“Take whatever you want, leech, just don’t make me faint” he jokes, his panted breathing betraying him as he moans, incredibly interested in the idea—. “Want to be conscious when you cum all over my dick.”

Logan’s sure your eyes glisten in a red color as you lean over his neck. And this time is less affectionate, much less gentle as you finally bite him again, teeth piercing the flesh so easily his hips jolts against you in response of the sharp pain your fangs create, the warm sensation of his blood in contrast of your cold touch, tongue-licking all you get from him.

And fuck it feels good.

He shrudders beneath you, shaking his head just slightly at reflex of pain before continue working his way with you, placing his hand between your tights as he lets his fingers rub on your sensitive clit, just enough to make you bite on his neck harder, the lewd sounds of your cunt taking him between holded moans as you suck on his neck.

“That’s it taking me so good,” He praises — “You like that, princess? Like how you’re full of me?”

You hum against his skin. The blood coates your chin as it goes down through his chest, staining his white tank for a couple of seconds before the holes your teeth made finally closes on their own.

It’s pure ecstasy. He can feel it when you clenching around his cock, cheeks red from his blood going now through your system, his vitality, his energy.

You can feel him fucking everywhere. So when you kiss him it’s all teeth, bite and his blood.

The pleasure’s taking control of you now, and Logan’s dizzy from the blood loss, his body covered now in sweat as his words slur together, not threading any coherent thought.

“That’s it,” he says, making you bounce of his cock. “Gonna’ have you in my room then, all spread out f’me.”

His hand wrap around your neck tightly, keeping the direct contact as he chokes you. Shit. You don’t need to say a word. Logan already got you.

“James-” he’s too deep to question why you’re using that name with him. How you facade is crushing down now as you let go.

When your body trembles on top of him he’s already cumming too, the squeeze on his cock sufficent to fuck him up personally, his bruising grip on your hips shoving you as deep as he possibly can as his release hits him like a brick falling from the damn sky.

He lets you work for it, ride each second of your high, milk him dry as a white circle of his own cum mixed with your juices coated the base of his cock, his underwear now slick with your orgasm.

He’s struggling to breathe, to properly say something as you’re finally coming down from your peak, looking at him through half lidded eyes.

“Did you called me James?” he questions, and you’re a damn bad liar, cause he knows imediately you’re hidding something cause of the look on your face—. “Do we know each other? From before.”

You don’t know how to respond at first, at least, cause you cannot lie in a position like that now.

“Well uh. It’s quite a long story here.”

Before you can continue he gets up, making you wrap your legs around his hips before stsrting to walk to the mansion.

“Logan-” you say in a strangled moan yourself, still sensitive as he’s balls-deep inside you.

“It will be less than two minutes, leech” he responds gruffily,— “Need to get you into my room so I can enjoy you the rest of the night, and you can tell me all of it.”

He don’t care if he’s bloody or a damn mess as he squeezes your ass climbing up the stairs, much less if anyone see the two of you in that state.

“I want to hear all the details, Cause I have a weird feeling that this has happened before.”

You cannot find a reasonable excuse to say no as the man’s already reaching the second floor.

Logan’s fucked after that night. When he learned about all that you were before, weirdly connected to you through the decades.

It must be the bite isn’t? Shit. He’s more in sync than ever now that you’ve been feeding from him a lot the last few weeks.

Ah. You fucking leech.

my masterlist

#wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #logan howlet smut #logan x reader #logan xmen #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett #jimmy howlett #xmen smut #cryptfile // x-men #minors dni #minors do not interact #james howlett x reader #james howlett x you #logan howlett x vampire!reader #deadpool 3 #xmen days of future past #deadpool and wolverine

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devildomwriter · 1 year ago

Text

Mammon Birthday Special 100 Fun Facts

1. Mammon states that he sleeps in the nude

2. Mammon despises witches and was nearly chopped into pieces by them once but Lucifer rescued him (although Lucifer was also the one to recommend they cut him into pieces)

3. When Levi tried attacking Mammon in his sleep, before he could even bring his foot down on Mammon, Mammon had him in a headlock

4. Mammon has a habit of stripping while drunk

5. Mammon does not like it when bath’s smell like flowers

6. Mammon’s dream for the future is having a carefree and playful life

7. Mammon starts his baths by washing his head

8. Mammon’s fear of ghosts and monsters originates a little after a year of living in the Devildom when he is possessed by a ghost

9. Mammon hates a Devildom song called “Corpse Rock”

10. Karasu refers to Mammon as noodle-boy

11. In earlier chats and Devilgrams Mammon is said to be a cat person, in later stories he is said to be a dog person, but his birthday information card again states he is more of a cat person

12. Mammon’s motto is “Money will makes the Devil turn millstones.”

13. Mammon’s daily activity is procrastinating in MC’s room

14. Mammon is obsessed with his shades and when he accidentally breaks them he’s devastated

15. According to Beelzebub, Mammon is bad at cooking and doesn’t make good peanut butter sandwiches

16. When Belphie and Beel helped Mammon pick out his human world outfit, he was so touched he bought them their human world clothes

17. Mammon states if the Devildom disappeared tomorrow he’d borrow as much money as he wanted to spend and not have to pay any of it back

18. Mammon’s favorite food in hell is Soy Sauce flavored cup ramen

19. In a love survey in B’s log, Mammin is said to be the active one pursuing love

20. Mammon is said to attract the “sassy and outgoing” types

21. The first thing Mammon does in the morning is check his stocks

22. In the love survey in B’s log when asked if he’d want to be bound by or bind his lover his response was “what do you want me to do? What did you say? Idiot!”

23. Mammon’s car is a Demonio 666 Lexura. The specific type was very rare and (unbeknownst to him originally) only with Lucifer and Diavolo’s help was he able to get it

24. Mammon easily forgets anniversaries and special dates of remembrance

25. Mammon is unable to express himself frankly

26. Mammon likes R&B music

27. Mammon is not a morning demon

28. One of the first things in the game said about Mammon by his brothers is that he’s a masochist

29. The results of a demon brain scanning app showed that Mammon’s thoughts are 90% money

30. Mammon’s worst RAD subject is Hexes and Curses

31. Mammon became Lucifer’s attendant in the Celestial Realm before Leviathan had even been born

32. Mammon was once almost roasted alive by hellfire

33. Mammon is a very bad liar and often admits exactly what he did when explaining that’s not what he did

34. Mammon was almost the one to tame Cerberus but Lucifer rushed in as he was about to confront the dog

35. Mammon is extremely protective of his little brothers

36. When forced to be honest, Mammon admits how much he admires and respects Lucifer

37. When Lucifer has a bad day, Mammon will bring him a drink and sandwich without being asked

38. Mammon was almost kicked out of the celestial realm thousands of years before the fall until Lucifer got through to him

39. Besides the people who were told what Simeon was going through in season 4, Mammon was the first one to notice something was wrong with him

40. Once Mammon was punished by Lucifer by being tickled until he laughed so hard he was humiliated

41. Mammon was given a serum with unknown results that caused him to tell MC he wanted to do many explicit things with them

42. Even Michael was unable to handle Mammon as an angel

43. Mammon is so fast that not even Diavolo and Lucifer can catch up to him

44. It’s been mentioned multiple times that Mammon uses crows as familiars

45. When Lucifer cannot trust Diavolo, he turns to Mammon

46. Mammon once called up Simeon to ask about significant lines in the TSL series so he could successfully hack into Leviathan’s akuzon account

47. Levi and Mammon sometimes perform standup comedy

48. When Mammon tried making a cake for Lucifer on his birthday in the Celestial Realm, he accidentally destroyed the kitchen, infuriating Michael

49. Mammon works as a model occasionally

50. In lesson 11 of the game Mammon claims he is well over 5,000 years old

51. In the celestial realm Mammon would often watch over the younger angels

52. Mammon once tried selling bird feathers to the lesser angels, claiming they were seraph feathers

53. In the celestial realm, Mammon once used the lesser angels to play a game of life-size chess

54. Mammon is said to have been the one who rallied and encouraged the angels in the Celestial war

55. Unlike his brothers, Mammon doesn’t often lose control of his powers

56. Whenever Mammon comes up with solutions to a crisis, they usually make things worse

57. Mammon struggles with math unless he thinks about it as calculating money

58. Mammon loves pandas because they’re profitable

59. Mammon always lets his brothers know about sales and deals going on

60. Mammon is the one who told Lucifer to always have pride and not regret his decision about the war

61. Mammon was cursed to speak like a cat during season 4 and Satan was unable to leave his side even getting Mammon to play with cat toys.

62. The first time Mammon lost control of his powers and transformed into a demon in the game is when he misunderstood a conversation between Levi and MC and assumed they had “relations”

63. Mammon is one of the only people who will indulge Asmodeus and watch his one-man fashion shows

64. When Mammon put too many meals on Satan’s tab, Satan called up Solomon and told him Mammon wanted to try his new recipe

65. Mammon has kidnapped MC multiple times

66. Mammon sometimes goes clubbing with Asmo after part time jobs

67. After Mammon sold all of their silverware he was fired from Ristorante Six

68. Mammon is sometimes referred to as MC’s pet

69. Mammon continues to insist he’s MC’s master not the other way around

70. Mammon sees Luke as his little brother

71. Student council members used to oversee detention until Mammon kept getting detention himself

72. Mammon once accidentally cast a spell on himself that made him burst into song

73. Mammon once accidentally turned himself into a dog

74. Mammon accidentally cursed himself and became extremely small. He was scared of how Beel was looking at him

75. When Mammon made the Miss’em dolls he became extremely wealthy but later blew it all on gambling

76. Mammon is too scared to watch horror movies alone and asks Lucifer to watch them with him

77. Mammon once attacked Lucifer with a three-prong pitch fork when he embarrassed him

78. Mammon has cried from fear of Simeon multiple times

79. Mammon was unable to even pretend to break up with MC

80. Mammon is one of the reasons you need a permit to get to the human world rather than do so freely

81. Mammon got a Mohawk once but his brothers teased him so much he immediately got rid of it

82. Mammon loves the Devildom version of Harry Potter

83. Mammon often threatens lesser/younger demons to hand over all their money

84. Mammon once stopped a bank robbery and demanded the money as compensation

85. Mammon accidentally cut down a Christmas tree gifted to Lucifer from Diavolo

86. Mammon was tricked by Lucifer to gamble against everyone he’d ever screwed over all at once

87. Mammon calls going to the horse races “seeing the horsies” to try and convince MC to tag along

88. When he was Lucifer’s attendant, Mammon sought for a rare Crystal Lily flower to gift him but got lost and Lucifer had to come find him

89. Mammon used Serenity Manor as collateral in gambling as soon as he got to the human world, almost forcing everyone to go right back to the Devildom

90. When coming up with proposal’s Mammon forced Simeon, Solomon, and Luke to participate in a flash mob

91. Mammon has a blood oath with MC and Leviathan

92. Mammon accidentally won Henry 1.0 while trying his first Devildom ice cream. He was nearly eaten.

93. Mammon owns an AK-47 after winning it over in a game against Leviathan

94. Mammon fees guilty that he didn’t have a grand reason to follow Lucifer to hell rather than just feeling like it

95. Mammon once lost a bet to a bunch of rabbits

96. Mammon prefers spicy foods to sweets

97. Mammon extorted Satan for 50,000 Grimm in exchange for throwing him a baseball

98. Mammon’s highest known rank in the celestial realm within the game is a Throne

99. When Mammon was turned into a Test Name box he got used to it immediately, disappointing Beelzebub

100. Mammon died in season 4 for a few minutes but was brought back by Barbatos

#obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me fun facts #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus

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ryker-writes · 2 years ago

Note

The Reader is heir apparent to a small kingdom, but has been keeping it a secret so they could enjoy not being royalty for awhile. They've been dating for a little while, and Reader sits him down and tells him that they've started thinking about having a future together, so he should know that if they ever do marry, he'll be their king; how do Leona, Jamil, Ruggie, and Vil react?

How fun!

Request rules and Masterlists

Leona:

he takes a second to process everything you just told him

but oh boy when he does

he's very smug and happy about it

the fact that you've been hiding your status has completely gone past him

Leona has spent most of his life being compared to his older brother and denied things because he's not the first born and won't get the throne

but now he has a chance to actually be king

he's so happy

not only does he get to have a future with you, but his dream of being king gets fulfilled

Leona is figuring out in his head how to marry you faster

Jamil:

stunned

like Jamil is literally broken for few minutes

you're royalty?

he's suddenly reflecting on all of his past actions and how he's acted around you

but then he processes what you actually said

he will be a king if he marries you?

that's a great thing actually

you're sitting across from him and he's just smirking and making plans in his head

he's thrilled and making perfect plans for your future together

unlike Leona, he's not going to marry you faster

Jamil will wait for the perfect time to step up and become king when both you and him are ready

Ruggie:

doesn't believe you at first

he thinks it's a joke and he's laughing and the thought of him being king

but then he figures out you're serious

and he's panicking a little bit

Ruggie has no problem with you being royalty, he deals with Leona on a daily basis

but he never even entertained the thought of him being some sort of high and mighty royal

he really has to sit and think about it for a little bit

don't misunderstand, he's all for a future with you

he's just unsure how he would do as a king

after a bit he'll come around to it

he feels he can actually do some good as king and help out those who are less fortunate like those from his home

(he'll also really enjoy all the perks like the lavish lifestyle and all the great food)

Vil:

he's quietly sitting there and thinking carefully

Vil has already considered your future together and he has taken it seriously

he had plenty of ideas for what it would look like with you

but this changes his original ideas

him as king?

Vil has always strived for perfection and to be like the evil queen

becoming a king will bring him even closer to that

he can truly be the fairest king of them all

he already planned to marry you in the future, but this makes his plans more grand

Vil will not let anything go to waste and make a promise to himself to be the perfect king by your side

a future with you as king and queen is the perfect future for him

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l0velysmut · 11 months ago

Note

Can you please write Neteyam with readers as Enemies to Lovers? with smut and he says he's loved readers for a long time.Please I really love your writing.

neteyam x fem!omaticaya!reader

contains: enemies to lovers (but ur not really enemies), stalker neteyam, kinda manipulative neteyam if u squint???, love confession, virginity loss, tsaheylu, p in v, creampie, poorly written !!!

wc: 2.8k unedited

na’vi words: skxawng = moron/idiot.

a/n: sorry if this isn’t what you expected!

Ever since the first time Neteyam laid eyes on you, he had been head over heels in love with you. But he didn’t like that he felt that way about you, so what better way to cover it up then by hating you more than anyone else in the clan?

You were so confused when you were the only person he would target and make fun of. To the public eye, he was nice, athletic, a charmer, and overall the golden boy of the clan. And not only was he the future Olo’eyktan, but he was also the son of Toruk Makto, which in your opinion, made it even worse and even more embarrassing whenever he would bully you. So, you’ve stood up for yourself the best you could.

But the truth was, he never enjoyed bullying you. He never enjoyed calling you degrading names like stupid or meaningless. In fact, he called himself stupid on the regular for starting a hateful pattern towards you and having no choice but to stick with it.

Every day he saw you, he wanted nothing more then to tell you how he truly felt, but he couldn’t just stop being mean to you out of the blue. You’d think something was up and that he was pranking you, so he just kept doing what he’d been doing since you were children.

He watched you from afar, doing your daily chores and sticking to the routine you had forged to keep yourself busy. Neteyam kept note and even followed you from a distance just to see where you were going, and he even kept track of who you talked to.

He had memorized your schedule, so if anyone just so happened to ask him where you were, all he had to do was figure out the time and then he’d know.

But today, you were doing something different. You were going somewhere he was unfamiliar of.

So, with a quick glance around to make sure no one was paying attention to him. He discarded what he was doing, and followed you discreetly, being far away enough for you to not realize he was there. He ran up a tree and jumped from vine to vine and tree to tree, following you from above and watching like an ikran hunting its meal.

And soon enough, you came to a stop, but Neteyam’s brows furrowed when he saw the stature of another man. He hears you laugh, and you take hold of another man’s hands. He watched through the green vines, glaring at the man he knew very well from training.

His name was Eaopu, and from what Neteyam could see from training, he had nothing to offer you. He was lazy, and couldn’t tell his left from right. Neteyam was in disbelief that you went out of your way to see this man, deep in the middle of the forest. Neteyam could feel his chest tighten as his mind raced with numerous thoughts of just marching over there and bashing Eaopu’s head in then making you his, but obviously he couldn’t let his emotions get the best of him because, afterall, you two were enemies and he couldn’t let you find out that he was basically stalking you and had been for years.

Neteyam watched as Eaopu pushed your dark, unbraided hair behind your ear, leaning in to whisper what he could only imagine was something dirty by the lustful look on his disgusting face.

“Eaopu,” Neteyam hears you say in an almost angry tone. “You know I don��t do that stuff. I’m waiting until marriage.”

“Oh, c’mon. We both know you won’t be mated any time soon,” Eaopu replied, grasping your forearm. “Why not just get it out of the way?”

Neteyams nostrils flare and his eyes darken as he listens to the conversation.

“Because! I want it to be special.” You tell him, pushing his chest to back him away from you, but he doesn’t budge. And Neteyam then knows what Eaopu’s intentions were with you. Leading you out into the deep forest to try to convince you to have sex with him, knowing how adamant you were on not having sex until marriage. Neteyam knew Eaopu was strong, so there’d be no way for you to get away if Eaopu tried what Neteyam feared.

“So then why’d you even meet me here? Huh?! Was this your plan this whole time? Get me all excited and leave me with blue balls?” Eaopu yelled, his voice echoing throughout the empty part of the forest you two were in.

You stare at Eaopu in disbelief as he backs you up against a tree. Neteyam then knew he had to step in.

The future Olo’eyktan jumped down from the tree and marched over to the scene, pushing back Eaopu’s shoulder, causing him to flinch.

“N-Neteyam!” Eaopu’s eyes widened, and he was taken aback by Neteyam’s sudden appearance. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

“Oh, really?” Neteyam knew he didn’t have to say much in order for Eaopu to surrender in fear and walk away. When he had done so, Neteyam turned to you, back against the rough bark of a tree.

“You okay?” He asked you, observing your body language.

“I don’t need your protection.” You say, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes. You were grateful, but you still quote on quote “hated” him so you had to keep that going.

“Hey, I just saved your ass from whatever he was about to do to you!” Neteyam shouted, arm pointed to where Eaopu had left.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t need you to save me! I can save myself.” You argue, and he chuckles.

“This is unbelievable.” He shakes his head, placing his hands on his hips. “I follow you out here, and save you from him, and you start-“

“You followed me out here?!” You cut him off and he freezes, lips parted. He tried to think of things he could say to get out of this.

“N-No, no. I didn’t follow you out here. Please.” He scoffed. “Why would I want to follow you, of all people? That’s ridiculous.” He defended himself, and you raised your hairless brows.

“Oh, yeah? So then how’d you get to save me just in time?” You ask, arms still crossed as you take a step towards him.

“I was hunting!” He defended once again, arms outstretched for a moment before falling to his side.

“Really? Where’s your bow and arrow?” You question.

He knew you had him, and he sighed in defeat, ears folded against his braids. “Okay, okay, fine. Yes, I followed you. But don’t let it get to your head, you skxawng. I just wanted to make sure you were safe.” He admitted, his eyes not missing the way your lips quirked up slightly.

You stay silent, feeling your cheeks burn up. Your heart thumped against your chest like a rock being tossed against your skin from the inside, and you looked away.

“Thanks. I guess.” You say in a soft tone, glancing at him when he steps forward.

“You're welcome.” He replies, and both of you are silent for a few moments before he breaks it.

“Listen, I…” He starts, but doesn’t know how. “I don’t want to hate each other anymore.”

His words make you stare at him, brows furrowed. “Hey, you’re the one that started it. What did I ever do to you, anyway? Y’know, since we’re here all alone, you might as well tell me. None of your friends are around to influence you, so please. Enlighten me.”

He opens his mouth then closes it, and he sighs again. “You never did anything to me, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“You never did anything to me. I suppose I started picking on you because..” He breathes in deeply before admitting his feelings to you. “I really liked you, and I didn’t know how to go about it because I was young, and dumb. But over the years, I just started liking you more and now I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do because I was a bully and I made you hate me and I don’t think we could be anything more the enemies and it hurts my soul every time we go at each others necks because it’s not what I want! I just want…” He runs his fingers around his mouth. “I just want you.”

Your eyes are wide as you listen to his rambling, and you swallow to relieve your dry throat. He just opened his heart to you, revealing that all this time when he made fun of you and humiliated you, he actually was just in love with you.

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t know why I dropped this on you. I should go.” He says when you just stand there and stare at him, but as he’s about to walk away, you grab his wrist and smash your mouth against his.

He melts into the kiss, his heart melting along with it. He brings his hand up to cup your cheek and his other hand to hold your waist. This is what he’s wanted for years. He’s wanted so badly to feel your lips against his; he’s spent years just imagining it.

When you pull away, your faces stay close and you can feel his warm panting against your lips. He pressed his forehead to yours and you whispered, “I want you, too.”

His eyes close briefly with a smile stretching across his lips, and he kisses you again.

“Then be mine. Forever.” He whispers against your plump lips, and you pull away slightly. When he sees your reaction, he’s quick to drop to his knees and lean his forehead on your lower stomach, hugging your thighs. “Please, Y/N. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this; how long I’ve wanted you. Do you know how many women I’ve turned down all because I was stuck on you?” He looks up at you, amber eyes filled with an emotion you’ve never seen on Neteyam.

His eyes were glossy and he looked up at you with pure desperation. He would never force you to do something you didn’t want to, but if you truly wanted him, then you two would come to an agreement.

“Neteyam, this is so sudden… and besides, you’ve said it yourself, no one would ever want to mate with me-“ He cuts you off and stands up, cupping your cheeks.

“No, no, no, no, I was lying, I was just saying that, I’m sorry.. I never meant anything I’ve ever said about you.” He tried to reassure you, and you stared at him, not quite knowing what to do.

“You want me, too, right?” He asked, and you nodded, putting your hands on his shoulders.

He takes your hands in his and gently brings you both to the ground on your knees in front of each other. He decided to sit and have a long talk with you about everything, and you both opened your hearts to each other. Tears spilled, and laughter filled the part of the forest you two were in, but eventually you came to an agreement.

That’s how you ended up underneath him, his bare body grinding against yours. You two had finally connected after years of covered up desire, and now you were one for all of eternity.

Neteyam couldn’t describe the feeling of being mated with you in words, he could only feel how amazing and euphoric it felt for your souls to be intertwined.

You two breathed heavily, gasping and panting between kisses as Neteyam pushed into you, his cock pulsing in his hand as he breached you for the first time. You hissed at the pain of being stretched out this much for the first time, and he could feel it through the bond. He could feel your pain, but also your burning desire to get past it the best you could.

“Are you alright?” He asked in a voice you’d never thought you’d hear him talk in. He has bottomed out inside of you, and remained very still while hovering over you, his arms holding himself up at either side of your head, caging you.

He tried so hard to not pull back and pound into you like his gut was telling him to, but he wanted to listen to his heart and his mind, and he wanted to wait until you were ready.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Ju-Just go slow.” You tell him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pulled out about an inch and then pushed in. This feeling was so new for the both of you. The way your pussy enveloped around his cock tightly made his head dizzy, and the way his cock penetrated you and hit spots inside of you that you didn’t think could be reached made your brain feel all gooey.

He kissed your jaw, and pulled out more, then back in, searching for any sign of discomfort through the bond. He fortunately found nothing within the shared connection, and slid in and out of you faster.

You place a hand down at his abs, trying to tell him to go slower because you weren’t quite ready, and he groaned before slowing down. He wanted to pound you like an animal, but he wanted you to feel good, too. He didn’t want to hurt you, not anymore. He wanted to protect you forever, and he didn’t want anyone to walk all over you anymore. Now, he would protect you like a mate should.

“Oh, great mother.” You whine, throwing your head back and clenching around him even tighter then before. He didn’t even know it was possible for him to be inside something so wet and tight.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. Can’t believe I’ve been missing out on you for so long, I should’ve told you I loved you a long time ago.” He said softly in your ear and his hips rocked back and forth. “I regret everything from before- fuck… I regret not taking you as mine since the moment I realized I was in love with you.”

You couldn’t speak, you felt like everytime his bulbous tip hit that spongy part inside of you that felt particularly good, the air left your lungs. You struggled to form a coherent thought as his cock fucked you dumb. You never knew your enemy's cock could feel this good; though, you’re not enemies anymore.

Neteyam supported his weight on one arm while the other reached down to play with the small nub he's thought so many times about sucking and rubbing. He rubbed tight circles on your clit, making your back arch into him, your chest pressing against his.

“You’re so pretty,” He whispered, kissing your cheek and then pecking your lips. “So beautiful.”

You wanted to thank him, but you knew he could hear it in his mind.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum already.” He murmured, whining loudly when his cock twitched. He felt a burning sensation throughout him, and you grind your hips back against his, helping him reach his orgasm as well as reaching your own high.

“M-Me, too, I think.” You say, panting and moaning. He rubbed your clit faster, and you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, pulling his cock further inside of you.

You both cum at the same time, your orgasms sending tingles throughout both of your bodies that twitched and spasmed against each other. Neteyam’s hips continued to grind as he spilled inside of you, and you could feel his cum sloshing around inside of you. You closed your eyes at the feeling, and your hips jerked at the stimulation.

“That was…” Neteyam started talking to praise you, but he couldn’t wrap his head around how good it felt. He never thought he would actually be able to get you to be his, he always just thought he fucked up his oppurtunity to be with you, but now that he had you, he was never going to let you go for as long as you two lived.

He was going to worship you and never say anything mean to you ever again until his dying days.

He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck and remained inside of you. You hug him tightly, inhaling his scent. Then, he rolled over to lay next to you, pulling out of you slowly with a pop! sound.

He grabbed your waist and pulled you close, your nude bodies pressed against each other as your limbs tangled before finally sleeping. He knew his father would be looking for him, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything else or any other responsibilities. He only cared about you now.

#avatar #neteyam #avatar smut #neteyam sully #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam smut #neteyam sully smut #neteyam x na'vi!reader #l0velysmut #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #atwow #avatar the way of water #neteyam x you

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tired-kitten · 10 months ago

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-What would haikyuu characters dream of?

+Did they ever had a wet dream? (NSFW feel free to skip those parts)

Akaashi:

- Akaashi mostly has pretty busy days so when he goes to the warmth of his bed he doses off and there isn't a falling sleep option for him. So mostly he doesn't dream or wouldn't remember if he had one. But if he did it probably would be his daily life maybe more stressful nothing special.

+ He mostly wouldn't dream about those stuff but oncehe had a dream that Bokuto fucked him in the gym room. He couldn't toss to Bo as he used to for the whole day (Konoha is the only person who knows about it)

Bokuto:

- Bokuto usually dreams like a 4 year old kid like a land of ice cream or something mostly about foods though. He once was biting on a pillow as it was a meat. (Kuroo has the picture)

+ Bokuto has wet dreams as much as a normal boy would have. The fun fact about those dreams is that he hasn't seen anybody in those except for Akaashi, even before finding out that he's interested in boys or having crush on his setter.

Bonus: He's favorite was the one he had a maid outfit on.

Nishinoya:

- He mostly dreams of his future, his adventures alongside a romantic life with someone. Noya is lucky enough to have those kind of dreams with his favourite celebrities but once he started to grow feelings with Asahi it was mostly him.

+ Yu has his wet dreams with both Asahi and celebrities and let me say they are pretty wild. But he enjoys the ones that gives him ideas to daydream about Asahi fucking him in the most steamy way. (Asahi used to caught Noya staring at him but he didn't know the reason until those ideas became actual ideas in bed)

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vqnrouged · 7 days ago

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𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖: 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 : a boy by the name of riddle rosehearts was a boy born into a wealthy, well regarded family. his mother, a queendom attorney, wished to teach him all the worlds knowledge. however, riddle’s life takes a turn. his curiosity for a tome with dark magic drove him to leave the comforts of his home. if the world found out about this, then the rosehearts family name would be stained. to prevent this, his mother forbids him from entering the outside world. a year passes, and just what will the boy do when faced with the opportunity to regain his freedom?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : this is a PREVIEW! the full length version will be posted soon.

𝐚/𝐧 : this is a preview to my oneshot if riddle was rapzunzel, with my own twists of course. :)

This is the story of how you died. Don’t worry, this is a very fun tale. In fact, it isn’t even yours. This is the tale of a boy, named Riddle Rosehearts.

Now, once upon a time, a baby boy was born into a wealthy, well regarded family. Working during the day, his mother would aid the queendom in civil affairs, and by night she would return home to nurture the growing boy into a man of greatness and wisdom. Piling upon the boy left and right, fresh knowledge was seeped into every crevice of his mind at all moments. Mrs. Rosehearts desired for him to surpass her, to become the man people would respect and look up to.

Riddle, for a time, had dreamed the very same. Helping the people by punishing the wretched was a heroic and logical deed, or at least that is the information his books gifted him. Knowledge itself was a weapon, and he desired to use it. And much to his delight, that dream did come to fruition. At age fifteen, Riddle Rosehearts obtained a job at the very place he desired. An assistant clerk at his mother’s place of work, the first step to his future as a man of the people. Everything was going perfect just as he imagined, his hard work and effort had allowed him to come this far, to be in this moment.

And then that moment ended.

On Riddle’s sixteenth birthday, an incident occurred. His desire for more knowledge was too great, he desired to experience the outside world in an adventure. An adventure for a book, one containing spells for ancient magic. Dark magic. Forbidden magic. Magic his mother would imprison criminals for in court. Magic that could potentially help society. If he went through with this dream, he would go against his mother’s ideals.

Riddle, with hesitance, still went through with his plan. He gathered some of his belongings; a map, clothes, a basket of vegetables and fruit, and a few books to take along with him. His journey would take him west of the Queendom of Roses, far from what he knew well in his daily life. Each creature and each flora he encountered was made sure to be etched into his mind. He would repeat this through his journey until he reached his destination, a maze of thorny roses that held the tome that he desired.

He would trek through the maze, using his leftover vegetables and fruit as markers to remember his path. Until, at last, he reached the center of the maze. A marble pedestal was erected, a glowing effervescence emanated from it. And floating just above was the item he had ventured so far for. The tome.

He approached and grasped the work with disbelief and curiosity, gently running a hand over the cover. The rough texture of the leather was telling of the age of the novel, of the souls who had utilized it a milenia prior. It only amplified his want for the magic to be used for good.

And so, he brought the book along with him on his journey back. As soon as he reentered his home, he took a seat in the library and began to study. He sat in the same spot, examining the runes and languages, for many hours. Many hours turned into many days, and many days turned into many weeks. Until, he had finally deciphered the knowledge within.

He didn’t waste a moment on informing his mother of his findings, explaining the meanings behind each image and the language of the tome. Mrs. Rosehearts, however, did not possess the same excitement her son did. Her stoic expression transformed into one of disdain as Riddle presented his findings, her frown deepening with every word. Her cold heart filled with jealousy of her son, and even more so, horror. Horror of what her son had brought into their home. If word got out that a member of the Rosehearts family, better yet, the head’s son had acquired a work of dark magic, the family’s reputation would be in ruins.

And so, she forbade him to ever exit their home again in fear of the knowledge spreading.

This tower would become Riddle Rosehearts’s tomb.

That is what the boy had determined.

That was until, his opinion was altered.

@𝐯𝐪𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞𝐝 — ˚ ✦ . ˚. - please do not translate or plagiarize my works.

#@𝐯𝐪𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞𝐝 — ˚ ✦ . ˚.#riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #twst riddle #twisted wonderland riddle #riddle x reader #heartslaybul x reader #x reader #oneshot #scenario #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x you #twisted wonderland x yuu #twst x y/n #twst x you #twst x reader

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nyuzip · 1 year ago

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˚₊‧ 심재윤 ─ puppy love ✧ jake / sim jaeyun

엔하이픈 𓂃 genderneutral ★ fluff ★ not proofread , wc 742 sum: what you thought was a normal day, taking your dog to the local dog park, you meet a cute boy who blends in with the puppies too well

it was your typical friday afternoon. your schedule after work was to take your golden retriever on her daily walk at the dog park and go grocery shopping to buy the food you’ll be eating for the rest of the week, nothing you weren’t used to. something about this specific day felt different, of course it was your co-workers’ karina’s doing. she has recently been dabbling in tarot card reading and asked if you wanted a reading during break. silly as it was, you agreed for the fun of it. karina had told you something unexpected will happen to you this afternoon. before you could worry, she immediately reassured you that it was good. of course, this lurked in your mind the entire walk to the park. will something really happen to me? you tried shaking it off your mind because, in retrospect, it was just a stupid little reading that is usually fake. oh well

but you were wrong. as soon as you arrived at the dog park, someone held the gate open for you and your dog. you looked up to meet eyes with the cutest boy ever. you took a mental note of his messy brown hair, his eyes that had a hint of a sparkle, and honey skin. not to mention his fashion that matched your type perfectly. you tried to let out a thank you but your mind was already somewhere else. he just simply smiled at you before his dog began to start barking at yours.

< layla! i’m so sorry. she usually never does this > he lets out an awkward embarrassed laugh

< oh no it’s all good. she’s cute. >

by this time, you could see more people going towards the entrance so collectively both of you entered in and kept walking together. your dog seemed to take a liking to layla. they began to play with one another, licking each other’s faces, and their tales wagging relentlessly.

< wow our dogs really like each other. nini always stay to herself every time we go. > you chuckled watching them roll around in the dirt while you noticed in the corner of your eye, the boy looking at you. it was making you nervous. this never happened before.

< i guess we didn’t need to bring any toys this time. do you always come here? > he questioned you with genuine curiosity in his tone.

< basically yeah! oh wait! i never asked your name. i’m y/n >

< oh pretty name. i’m jake. nice to meet you y/n >

he caught you off guard. hearing your name roll off his tongue melted your heart. his australian accent was strong but gorgeous. not even comprehending the fact he said your name was pretty as you were distracted being down bad.

< it was nice to meet you too jake > you were able to let out with a beaming smile after you recollected yourself and your thoughts

for a good 30 minutes, you and jake continued a small conversation, mostly yapping about fun facts about each other’s dog. the sun was beginning to come down and that was usually when you would head to the store.

< it was fun talking to you jake! the dog park has never been this fun before. i’ll definitely see you more often, right? > you questioned him, crossing your fingers in your mind because there is no way you could let him go like this.

< definitely! it was fun for me too. >

< okay! nice meeting you again. oh and layla too > you chuckled before proceeding to wave bye. this was enough for you and maybe in the future, it could lead to some sort of romance. it was exciting.

suddenly, you felt nini’s leash coming loose from your hand. she had practically ran towards layla when you finally realized what she was doing. < nini! >

< i guess they weren’t done playing. > jake let out a hearty laugh. it was the most attractive thing you had heard. < how about having dog playdates? > nothing could have prepared you for that question. oh it was an immediate yes in your head but you made sure to control yourself, so instead, a “nervous” sure came out of your mouth. god i’m such a mess. but you calmed down as jake gave you a warm smile.

it looks like your “typical friday” will be different moving forward with an australian boy who looks like a cute puppy himself. you made sure to thank karina the next day.

had this idea for awhile and i'm so happy that i was able to write and execute it just like my vision. i hope this little meet-cute with jake will make you squeal like i did ! also if anyone has any requests please send them my way ᵔᴗᵔ also i apologize in advance if there are any errors, i rarely proofread LMAO also happy new year mwah

NYUZIP 2023 ─ do not use/steal my work

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silverthefutureboi · 1 month ago

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Fun Fact!

My telekinesis has a radius of ten feet. Meaning I could grab anything without being able to see it, but after that I have to be able to see what I want to grab to grab it. And that has about a mile range. It doubles when I'm not wearing my wrist bands.

Not-So Fun Fact.

I was alone when growing up, I met Blaze when I was ten. Oddly though, someone would leave food and supplies, like my bands, sometimes they would sit with me while I slept, they vanished when I was eight.

(Ooc- @humble-introvert0808 sorry your ask is taking so long, I'm currently working on art for it, and my final exams for my senior year of highschool.)

#sonic the hedgehog #silver the hedgehog #silver #send me asks #sonic the hedgehog au #sth au #sth #blaze the cat #future boi antics #daily Future boi Fun Fact #daily Future boi Not-So Fun Fact

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kabutoraiger · 1 month ago

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still thinking about my anniversary sentai idea. for the moment i'm calling them "kyoryoku sentai jidaiger"

here are my best approximations of them via picrew (and also one is a face claim using art from defunct mobile game world flipper)

➢ jidai red (inspo: spade ace, hongo takeshi)

plucked from 1976. age 25. a classic Showa Guy who loves justice, athletics, & protecting the beauty of nature. easily makes friends with every child he meets. he was an up & coming pro tennis player until an injury made it difficult for him to hold a racket in his dominant hand. (this affects his performance as jidai red as well from time to time though he tries to hide it.) after tennis was no longer an option he became a fitness instructor for kids at the local rec center.

parents are stereotypically deceased via an accident when he was in middle school. only family is a beloved older sister who goes missing at the start of the story. when a mysterious being appears in front of him and says that he may be able to find clues about her whereabouts in the future he readily accepts their offer to jump through a time portal and become a sentai hero.

➢ jidai black (inspo: mika yellow four)

plucked from 1987. age 22. cool, collected, keeps quiet about herself & is highly suspicious of others. rides a motorcycle. type of girl who says 'tch' when someone bothers her. a former sukeban leader that all of her kouhai gang members were in love with. she decided to give it all up and buckle down and study after being inspired to become a journalist by an older lady reporter.

currently in her 3rd year of her journalism major but has been failing to keep up with coursework due to the sudden disappearance of her eccentric scientist father. she's convinced that he may have Learned Too Much about something, making him a target, but no one but her seems to be interested in covering the story. much like red, she's enticed to jump into the future by the promise of more info, as well as being able to look at the facts of the case with the clarity of hindsight.

➢ jidai yellow (inspo: kakuranger boys, shoji tenmaranger)

plucked from 1993. age 19. a (mostly) laidback and fun-loving dudebro. that "fun" sometimes includes annoying the people around him with pranks and stupid jokes. he enjoys skateboarding and listening to popular american rock music that he thinks he's the first teen to ever discover. does have a more sensitive & anxious side too but he tries his best to push those feelings deep down. only child to a hardworking single mom.

his missing person is his boy best friend who one day fails to show up to the arcade for their weekly gaming sesh. at first he assumes his buddy just finally got gf and is hanging out with her (a looming possibility he's been jealously worried about) but after not hearing from him for a few more days he enlists the network of other dirtbag city kids to help find him with no luck. maybe the answer can only be found... in the future?

➢ jidai pink (inspo: natsuki boukenyellow)

plucked from 2005. age unknown to anyone but her. a cheerful and enigmatic gyaru who rarely seems fazed at all by the odd events that occur throughout jidaiger. possesses a strange "luck" ability such that she often manages to unintentionally avoid enemy attacks, as well as avoid misfortune in her regular daily life.

perhaps her luck is also responsible for her cellphone - a pink razr flip phone with enough charms to make you say "they beat jesus with that" - which even after time traveling still somehow allows her to call all her friends in 2005 and tell them about how weird reiwa is/keep up with the current gossip.

contrasted with her love of all things cutesy is her love of horror, and she is bothered to no end when the maintainer of her fave creepypasta/occult phenomena website suddenly stops updating. they won't respond to her emails either. despite not actually knowing them personally she is 100% willing to time travel & become a sentai hero if it means solving the mystery of their vanishing.

➢ jidai green

normie guy from [current year]. age 37. a grumpy & weary but good-hearted salaryman who works for an insurance company. has been known to help customers cheat the system a la that scene from the incredibles. he is sometimes expected to visit customers' homes, and so will use that as an excuse to escape from work when there's a kaijin to fight.

lives with his 10 year old son and, as of early on in the show, all the other jidaigers, who are strangers to reiwa and have nowhere else to go. they drive him up the fucking wall but, as someone who's never had much in the way of family, he comes to kind of like having them around by the end.

divorced and has a somewhat strained relationship with his ex-wife, who suddenly decided to give up the life they'd built and start backpacking around the country to "find herself" about 3 years ago. however she's always there like clockwork for her monthly visit with their son, and so he immediately knows something is wrong when one month she doesn't show up.

➢ jidai turquoise

arrives from the year 25XX. a robot from a time when robots are ostensibly equal citizens to humans, though there's still some awkward tensions there. he puts on arrogant and standoffish airs, but people will soon come to realize it's because he's LARPing as a hardboiled private eye from 20th century noir films, which he considers "the pinnacle of media entertainment."

when not trying to play a character he is very dweeby, naive, and excitable. he finds reiwa fascinating and is always taking notes about it in his notebook. he chose to take the mysterious time being's offer due to the disappearance of his robot cat, nyanko, whom he considers his best friend. in a notable episode the jidaigers manage to find and rescue nyanko from one of the enemy's bases, but also learn about the data chip hidden inside the cat, which held a list of names... names including those of the jidaigers' missing people.

what could it mean? 🤔 how are they all connected?? find out next time on kyoryoku sentai jidaiger!!

#jidaiger

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maverick-werewolf · 4 months ago

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Daily Werewolf Thoughts - Days 17-23

Day 17- So how about this idea that werewolves are unholy? It's a load of bunk, if you ask the old legends. That's right, even in the Early Modern Period as werewolves became associated with satanic magic, the werewolf itself still wasn't unholy - because the werewolf was a victim. And older than that, they simply weren't at all.

Traditionally, werewolves were never considered unholy and, in fact, were often considered associated with God. We see this in the Werewolves of Ossory, among others, and if you believe Thiess or Thies of Kaltenbrun, the Werewolf of Livonia, there were also the Hounds of God who became werewolves and went into Hell to retrieve grain stolen by demons and battle Satan and his witches*. True, he was basically considered a crazy man, but it's a fun concept to discuss. Likewise, werewolves in antiquity were never turned by Satan, as he does not possess such power. God, however, could turn people into werewolves for various reasons (I will discuss this further when I talk about the Werewolves of Ossory, one of my favorite tales). Those who became wolves by a satanic power were also still considered victims, such as Jean Grenier. As printed in records of his trial, preserved by Sabine Baring-Gould (shameless plug: https://www.amazon.com/Book-Werewolves-Superstition-Annotated-Translated-ebook/dp/B0CK4YY16Z )… "The president went on to say that Lycanthropy and Kuanthropy were mere hallucinations, and that the change of shape existed only in the disorganized brain of the insane, consequently it was not a crime which could be punished. The tender age of the boy must be taken into consideration, and the utter neglect of his education and moral development. The court sentenced Grenier to perpetual imprisonment within the walls of a monastery at Bordeaux, where he might be instructed in his Christian and moral obligations; but any attempt to escape would be punished with death."

Werewolves in legend were never driven off or harmed by holy artifacts, holy words, or holy ground - unlike vampires, demons, and other forms of undead, etc. Obviously, popular culture has had them now frequently associated with demonic imagery and acts, but I personally have never liked it, because I love werewolves and I think it's pretty awesome that they actually -weren't- associated with that kind of thing.

There's a (an old, actually) Werewolf Fact on this and more, of course: https://maverickwerewolf.com/werewolf-facts/how-to-kill-a-werewolf/

*: It is extremely noteworthy that werewolves were NOT considered witches at any point in antiquity or the Early Modern period. They were different, and the difference remained important including and up to the famous werewolf and witch trials of the 1600s-1800s. I will discuss this some more in future thought posts, as it's extremely important to my research and arguments and how modern scholars have spread so many outright inaccurate concepts as "fact" just to scrounge out more "arguments" for the "academic conversation."

Image: the werewolf from Red Riding Hood (2011), shockingly one of my favorite werewolf movies, despite the werewolf doing the whole "werewolves are unholy" thing. Don't let the teen romance fool you, it's actually really good, and the werewolf is awesome!

Day 18- I am really sick of this concept of "millions of werewolves" like a zombie plague, no puns intended. You see it everywhere these days and have for over a decade, and it's gotten very old. There's a brand spanking new B-movie coming out later this year based on this concept, too.

Back in my day, werewolves came in 1's. One werewolf, one story, very character-driven - made things dramatic and interesting and kept the werewolf horrific, not to mention unique. It also kept the werewolf as a relatable character, which is hugely important for such a story. Today, more often than not, werewolves come not only in "packs" (I will rant about this another time) but also in massive zombie hordes. In such a state, they aren't even dangerous individually. One werewolf isn't even a threat. They're just a plague, like rats. In WoW, you have an objective in the worgen starting zone to "kill 80 worgen" in one go because there's a blue million of them and they all absolutely suck (you have several objectives like this). It's a terrible way to approach werewolves as a concept. At this point, especially with modern zombies being some infectious disease, why isn't the story just about zombies? Why not just make it about some infectious rat-people plague, since that's what it is?

If you see the scary monster in question slaughtered in droves, it lowers your perceived danger level of one as a threat. No matter what occasional thing has managed to arguably pull this off well regardless of seeing dozens on the screen at the same time (I have heard all the Aliens arguments*), it still ultimately works to make the single thing less intimidating. Especially when, in the case of werewolves, they're largely only talked about as dangerous because they might infect someone… you know, like how modern zombies are handled.

Again, I have to say: if the werewolf is just a plague-carrier that comes in hordes, why not go with rats instead? Call them wererats if you must. It'd still be better than using werewolves.

I want to overall be positive in these posts, but often I cannot help myself. I hate the "werewolves as zombies"/"werewolves as rat monsters" trope, and after zombies already stole the "infection by bite" straight from werewolves. Today, it often takes an army of werewolves to do even one small thing. It's just stupid and terrible. Use zombies for your zombie plague and leave werewolves alone.

image: worgen in Gilneas, the worgen starting zone (pre furry redesign)

*: I love Aliens, before you ask

Day 19- One of my all-time favorite werewolf stories is a Breton lai by the wonderful Marie de France. You guessed it: it's Bisclavret, the Lai of the Werewolf. I adore this story.

I relayed the entire story and discussed it in depth in this post here: https://maverickwerewolf.com/werewolf-fact-67-the-lai-of-the-werewolf-bisclavret/

But for the sake of brevity (although this will not be incredibly brief), I just want to say again that I adore this story because it's such a classical tale of chivalry, knightly code, and a noble werewolf. I've always enjoyed that although the tale opens with a description of werewolves and what they are/how they are perceived, the werewolf in the story defies this description - and why? Because he's a noble knight (and baron). Even when turned into a beast, he holds true to his chivalry and fealty. But frankly, such a concise description of werewolves is something I really enjoy too-- “a werewolf is a man who suffers a change and runs wild in the darkest wood, horrible to behold, and devours men.” Solid gold. That's a werewolf, right there.

Bisclavret is one of several similar tales of treacherous wives, a theme of more than a few medieval stories, who betray their good husbands. In this case, when she is told the truth of his being a werewolf, she is horrified and hides his clothing so he cannot return to human form. Guess there was a good reason he didn't tell her the truth - but at least he found out she's a terrible person, right? Treat your werewolf knight husband right. I mean, come on.

Similar to the tale of the Werewolves of Ossory, a moral of Bisclavret is not to judge a book by its cover, essentially. Bisclavret behaved noble and true even as a beast, and his king saw this and recognized it, sparing his life. The wife, however, was told the truth of her husband and was disgusted by the idea of him becoming a beast. In the Werewolves of Ossory, we see people who have been turned into wolves by God, and it becomes a test of others as well as the werewolves themselves - for others to recognize that even those beastly in appearance who behave in good nature should be treated in kind. More on this later when I discuss the werewolves of Ossory and the priest who met them.

If you've never read Bisclavret, it's a wonderful story, whether you're reading it for the werewolf or not. I highly recommend it. Someday in the future I'll publish my own collection of old werewolf tales, with my own thoughts and translations etc. throughout… it's on the backburner.

I've almost kept this up for the entire month! I'm so happy people actually read my ramblings. Thanks to you if you've stuck with them.

Day 20- One of the biggest tropes of modern werewolf media when they aren't a rat plague, though sometimes these go hand in hand, is a "werewolf pack" and/or "werewolf family." This insanely popular trope has taken many werewolf stories by storm, although especially the "shifter romance" genre. I confess I have never read a single book in this genre. I wouldn't be ashamed if I did and would admit it, but instead I am confessing I actually have no experience with it, so anything I say can be taken with the biases of someone who's never read one but has heard a gracious plenty through osmosis. They won't be a focus of this discussion, though.

The focus of today's thoughts are the concept of the werewolf pack and/or family. It seems like a fun idea in theory, although I still prefer focus on an individual character and back in my childhood they were called "werewolf clans" and I think that is VASTLY preferable, because a group of werewolves should be insanely frightening. Trouble is, it's almost never done well. I have seen far too many instances of a werewolf requiring a "pack" to even survive (because werewolves suck, apparently?), even to the point of the lore stating a werewolf will outright die if they don't have some werewolf buddies hanging around because that's just how their biology works ("biology" and "werewolf" in the same sentence loses me pretty fast anyway though)…

The concept of werewolves having packs and families that they do or must live in is an extremely modern one, for the record. Back in folklore, werewolves weren't so directly equated with wolves on a biological and behavioral level that they are driven to seek out or live in or create a pack.

I think it could be interesting - and in fact I do plan to tackle the concept myself, in a horror way - it just… usually isn't. Nine times out of ten, for instance, a "werewolf family" is just a bunch of dog jokes bouncing around on trampolines, chasing frisbees, calling each other "pup" and other such terminology, biting at water sprinklers, and barking at the mailman.

There is, as always, a Werewolf Fact for this: https://maverickwerewolf.com/werewolf-facts/packs-communities-and-families/

Image - Sketch artwork for Wulfgard of a group of werewolves, by Saber-Scorpion (our setting in which we create a lot of fiction)

Day 21- Remember how werewolves didn't used to be considered "diseased" or insane? All that came about in the Early Modern Period, and actually, it's where we also started using "lycanthropy."

The word "lycanthrope" in itself is derived from Greek "lykos," meaning wolf, and "anthropos," meaning man - which I mentioned before as well. It's why "lycan" doesn't make any actual sense and is just word butchery, etc. But referring to the curse of the werewolf (or disease of the werewolf, in most Early Modern cases) as "lycanthropy" became almost the standard, and it was recognized as an illness of the mind rather than a physical affliction that caused transformation. This is one of the many cases of scientific thought attempting to rationalize older stories and beliefs - which, by the way, also led to a great deal of organized and purposeful wolf slaughter (as in, real wolves, the animals) in this time period, far moreso than existed in the past.

When popular culture took the word "lycanthropy" and ran with it, medical institutions started using a different word to refer to those with "wolf madness," and that's how we have "clinical lycanthropy" today.

There is, as always, a Werewolf Fact for this: https://maverickwerewolf.com/werewolf-fact-70-werewolves-in-medical-history-clinical-lycanthropy/

Day 22- I've mentioned the tale of the Werewolves of Ossory a few times now, so it's about time I discuss it. I enjoy this one a lot.

This tale comes from Topographia Hibernica, written by Giraldus Cambrensis (c. 1146-1223), also called Gerald of Wales, a Welsh cleric and chaplain. In the story, a priest is traveling when an enormous wolf stops him along the way. The wolf, speaking, humbly and kindly beseeches the priest to help his companion, displaying all good Christian manners. Though reluctant and frightened, the priest follows the wolf back to his companion, a wolf who is sick. The wolf - "using his claw as a hand" - pulls back the wolf skin of his companion to reveal she is an old lady. The priest assists the old woman werewolf, who then returns to her wolf form.

The werewolves explain they are from the land of Ossory, whose people become werewolves as a form of trial; a man and woman take the form of a wolf once every seven years. Mention is made that they were descendants of an Irish warrior, Laignech Fáelad, ancestor of the kings of Ossory. He was the first of his kind to assume the shape of a wolf and go “wolfing,” and his people followed after him.

The first werewolf says he will watch over the priest and his companions for the night and protect them from danger. In the morning, the werewolves bid them on their way, and the priest leaves. He later relays this tale with a moral: do not judge others by their appearance/form, if they be good and kind.

As always, there is a Werewolf Fact for this, in which you can read passages from the story in detail: https://maverickwerewolf.com/werewolf-facts/werewolves-of-ossory/

Day 23- One of the most fun things to a werewolf story is that the werewolf must hide the curse, even from the closest of family and friends. Once everyone else finds out the truth, if they do, it just isn't as interesting anymore.

This goes back to folklore, too, of course - being a werewolf wasn't exactly desirable, so even in the stories where the werewolf reveals it to someone else, the other people generally react with horror and fear. Niceros's Tale, Bisclavret, and many others are examples of this. Sure, there are other examples (like how the king wasn't bothered in Bisclavret because he saw the goodness in the knight's heart and behavior), but generally, it wasn't exactly a good thing. It isn't super uncommon for the werewolf in the old stories to end up badly, same as in the classic werewolf movies where the werewolf was actually scary*.

Storytelling-wise, it's just very fun and interesting. It leads to a lot of character questions, moral questions, and generally dramatic situations. If you were turning into a monster, you wouldn't want anyone to know, either - if you even knew, yourself. More on that part later, though. I just really love stories where the werewolf has to hide the truth from everyone. It's always so good.

*: The werewolf dying is far from a necessity for a scary werewolf, but the werewolf has traditionally died in the things that are conveying them as truly terrifying, even in some things where the werewolf wasn't really all that bad or was even a force for good. I'm talking about all those mountains of films that were ultimately offshoots of The Wolf Man (or, it could be argued, offshoots of The Wolf Man because The Wolf Man was an offshoot of Werewolf of London [1935])… anyway. The werewolf dying has become so predictable I just assume it will happen in most of the type of werewolf media I even theoretically enjoy. Not saying I like it, though.

image: concept art for the werewolf from Morrowind: Bloodmoon, just because I love it

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