#easy pickings for the great predators.

[orcelito]

6.5hr in the car was rough. But I'm all bundled in my beddie bye and I have the box fan going (so glad I thought to bring it) and the view outside the cabin is beautiful and I'm going ziplining tomorrow morning

It is time to sleep bundled like a rat in its bedding and then have a wonderful day tomorrow

[bunnis-monsters]

Yandere wolf breeding willing bunny reader😚

He couldn’t help but take you away to his den after seeing you all alone, your fluffy bunny ears twitching from the cold.

You had lost your way, separated from your fellow bunny hybrids and had been fending for yourself for nearly a week now.

At first you had been waiting, sure that the others would return to save you… but winter was approaching, and as snow started fall, you realized they wouldn’t jeopardize themselves to help you.

Now, you were trying your best to prepare for winter all by yourself. It was no easy task, your fat barely able to keep you from freezing as you scavenged.

Nothing was growing anymore, and all the other hybrids had long since barricaded themselves in their own homes.

The wolf hybrid had been out on a hunt when he spotted you. He had followed your scent and was ready to pounce, but one look had him ready to pounce on you in a very different way.

You were a chubby little thing, your cotton tail wagging as you shivered and bent over to pick up sticks for a fire. He could see your plump ass and fat thighs, your hips perfectly wide. The wolf could already imagine breeding a litter of pups into your sweet, fat bunny cunt.

He planned on using his size and your species innate fear of predators to scare you into coming with him… but went differently than he had expected.

“Hello, little one.”

You jumped at the sound of a deep voice behind you, squeaking before scurrying away. He caught you easily, holding onto on of you ears. “Slow down, bunny.”

When you finally turned to look at him, instead of screaming or pleading for him to spare your life, you teared up and wrapped your arms around him.

“D-did you come to help me?”

This made him pause. You were looking up at him with the cutest teary eyes, your chubby cheeks warm and covered in tears. He was going to reply, but you were already opening his jacket so you could burrow into it, making sweet little purrs as you snuggled him.

“Warm…”

Feeling your chubby body press against him was both comforting, and made his cock twitch in his pants. At that movement, he decided that you were his completely, discarding any thoughts of devouring you that he lingered.

“What’s a chubby little bunny like you doing out here during winter, hmm?”

He cupped your cheek, pinching it gently. He had to be careful with his sharp claws, making sure not to pierce your chubby flesh.

“M-my… my colony… they left me behind…”

Your voice was shaky, and he could feel tears soaking into his shirt. That was all he needed to hear.

With one swift movement, he scooped you up and carried you to his den, already rubbing his scent into your soft neck. Claiming you was the only thing on his mind, and he honestly wanted to mount you the second you were inside his den…

But you were cold, tired, and hungry…

He was already attached, watching you munch on some stew he prepared with great interest. The way your chubby cheeks puffed out as they filled up with food, how you sighed in happiness as you finally filled your belly after a week of barely eating… it all made him fall further in love.

His obsession was growing, and he was determined to have you all to himself.

You slept in the furs he prepared for you, so innocent and trusting. The urge to pounce on your sleeping body then and there did surface, but he pushed it away.

You were a sweet little thing, and he felt an ache in his chest when he thought about you looking at him with fear instead of the soft, thankful look you gave him.

Never before had someone instantly attached themselves to him, willingly curling up by his side and even grooming him. You slept with him every night, the two of you sharing warmth as winter came.

His sweet bun became so much more than something he wanted to fuck, he loved you with all of his heart. Everyday that passed only cemented his feelings, you were now his ray of sunshine that kept him warm during the cold, harsh winter.

So when you got ready to leave when spring came, he couldn’t have that.

“Thank you for taking care of me…”

You were hugging him, your little cotton tail wagging furiously as you softly groomed him in a sign of affection. God, he could hold you forever. Your scent was like a drug for him, making him feel woozy and needy.

“I’m sorry I took up so many of your resources… I won’t bother you any longer.”

Before you could leave, he grabbed your wrist and growled lowly, his nose burying itself in your neck.

“W-what are y-“

He placed hot kisses along your neck, nipping at your collarbone, his warm fanning against your skin. “You think you were a bother, little one? If you were a bother, I would have eaten you.”

He wasn’t surprised when you just tilted your head, your chubby cheeks warming up. You were such a sweet, innocent thing. “Really? Then… did you… like me being here?”

The wolf laughed, his chest vibrating against your back. “Oh, my sweet little rabbit… I could barely hold myself back from claiming you all winter long.”

You blinked, looking up at him in adoration, your eyes so soft and warm. God, he wanted to protect that innocence of yours… but he also desired you so carnally that he couldn’t wait to be inside of you.

“Claim me? Y-you wanna be my mate?”

He tilted up your chin, purring softly as his thumb brushed over your plump lips. “Desperately.”

Your lips met his in a hot, needy kiss. It was almost instant, the way he had you pinned down and half naked. You moaned into his mouth as he groped your breast, pinching your nipples with a bit too much force.

“Mmph!”

You squirmed a little, feeling his hand slipping into your panties to play with your fat bunny cunt, two fingers already moving in and out of you. It felt so strange, you’d never had someone touch you there before…

“How cute…”

He purred in delight, watching your eyes grow fuzzy and teary as he pushed you over the edge, his thumb rubbing your clit to help you cum.

Your first orgasm felt like fireworks going off in your belly, your hips bucking uncontrollably. His sweet little bunny, crying out and writhing under him was certainly a sight to behold.

His fat cock rested on your pussy, and you looked at it in awe. It was huge, you’d seen another bunny hybrid’s dick once or twice when they’d try to court you, but it didn’t compare to the wolf’s.

It looked so thick and red, and the way he was looking down at your little bunny cunt looked like a predator ready to devour its prey.

He quickly mounted you, his cheeks red and eyes hazy.

As the tip pressed against your tight hole, you whimpered, holding onto him. You didn’t complain or move away because you wanted to be a good mate for him… but he could tell you were afraid.

“Hush, little one. I won’t hurt you…”

He licked your cheek, nuzzling against you in an attempt to comfort you as he started to push into you.

You cried and held onto him, your plump thighs resting on his hips as he bottomed out. He couldn’t help it, immediately starting to fuck into your fat pussy, unable to stop himself.

The sounds of squelching, your squeals and moans could be heard from the den. You were so tight, he couldn’t stand it! He gripped your plump hips, eager to knot his pretty little mate.

You yelped as you were turned onto your tummy, your hips lifting as he held you up and rutted into you as your little cotton tail wagged.

He grabbed onto your fluffy bunny ears, pulling and tugging on them as the tip of his cock pressed against your cervix. Your poor cunt was being abused and used by your mate… but you just loved him so much.

And it felt way too good.

Being knotted for the first time made you cry, your already stretched out pussy having to accommodate for his swelling cock.

“F-fuck, baby… my little mate, all mine, okay? Gotta knock you up…”

As he continued to rut his swollen cock into you, he kept whispering how cute you’d look with your belly heavy with his pups, how he’d provide for you and keep his pretty little mate fat and happy.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, his knot keeping you attached for him. He groomed you, licking your hair and cheeks and cooing soft praise.

“My sweet girl, did so good… gonna be a mommy soon, aren’t you?”

Exhausted, you drifted off, happy that you had someone that would care for you, since you were a helpless little bunny that needed someone to coddle you.

He watched you sleep, his eyes narrowing as he left a bite mark on your neck, claiming you as his.

You were his little bun, and every other creature in the vicinity would know you were his entirely. No one would dare touch the wolf’s mate, dare they anger him.

————————

YANDERE TAGLIST: @katerinaval @sunset-214 @avalordream @atransmuter @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @j3llyphisching @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam

[kurikive]

CASUAL | danielle marsh.

— "is it casual now?"

6thmember!reader, situationship/fwb but nothing sexual, angst, fluff at the end i promise, dani swears, reader is a (closeted) lesbian, reader is horrible at reading people, written in 2nd person, they work it out on the remix

warnings : A LOT of internalized homophobia !! reader refers to herself multiple times as a predator but it's just from fear and insecurity, nothing actually predatory is happening in the story. extremely brief mentions of starvation

wc: 5.4k words

inspired by: Casual — Chappell Roan

you and danielle marsh are friends. more than co-workers, you're friends. although you don't have that much in common except for your age, it was easy to adapt to the harsh environment of the k-pop industry's training system with someone like danielle by your side.

she's always been a ray of sunshine in everyone's lives, you're not the exception. if you were in a bad mood, tired from waking up in the early morning everyday, worked to the point of exhaustion, danielle would be there rubbing your shoulders and saying something sweet like

"you're doing great, y/n! keep up!"

and then you'd smile at her, and she'd smile back, and you'd feel so much better, thanks to danielle.

you didn't have many interests in common. music taste, fashion sense, movie picks, food preferences, personality types, if anything you were almost her complete opposite. and yet, she sat in your bed every night while you scrolled on your phone, talking for hours until it the clock hits midnight and she goes back to her room.

danielle did most of the talking, and you carefully listened to everything she said. the enthusiasm in which she enunciated all her words was endearing to listen to, and it couldn't not bring a smile out of you. the girl never forgot to give you your chance to speak too, trying to get to know you better everyday.

there was one thing she could not know, however. that you're a lesbian.

if it was hard enough being gay in korea, it was ten times harder when you were about to debut in a girl group, in one of the biggest companies in the industry at the moment nonetheless.

there were times where the members would all gather and have girl talks, talking about things like movies, celebrity crushes, past boyfriends and all that stuff, and you felt left out every single time.

sometimes it's more a curse than a blessing that danielle notices everything, because when she asks, "who's your celebrity crush, y/n?", "what do you look for in a boy, y/n?", "have you ever had a boyfriend, y/n?", you never know how you're supposed to respond.

it wasn't safe. it'll never be safe.

you've known the girls for almost a year and there has never been an indication of the way they felt about the LGBTQ+ community. hanni was your safest bet, she seemed the most open minded, but then again you can never be sure.

they were all so painfully straight.

so you try your best to answer vaguely,

"i don't know.", "i'm not sure, i don't really think about that." they complain a little about your mysteriousness, but it doesn't take long for them to let it go and move on.

you don't know how long you have to keep pretending you're not sure. you are sure.

you like girls.

you don't want to keep pretending you don't. but how would they feel?.

they'd feel unsafe, uncomfortable, scared, exposed to a threat, a possibility of being prey to a predator, a little voice in your head tells you.

but you're not. you're not a predator. they know you're not a predator. you'd never do anything to hurt them, or make them uncomfortable.

so you keep pretending. but the shell is starting to crack, and a knot in your throat gets tighter everytime you hear your members ask "is he your type?".

your debut is only a couple months away. you pray to god hanni has noticed by now. she's your roommate after all.

you start playing some specific songs without your headphones in hopes she walks by or enters the room and notices. you hope she's the one that asks. but she doesn't, she never mentions the songs, ever.

so you move on to movies and shows.

when she catches you watching heartbreak high in the living room TV, she only says "oh they're aussies, right?"

when she sees you watching heartstopper on your phone while eating dinner she just says, "kit connor is soooo handsome."

she doesn't mention it when she goes into your room and you're playing but i'm a cheerleader on your laptop. but hanni has caught on.

and the next time she goes into your shared room, she closes the door behind her. you're in your bed, and you're staring at each other, both of your eyes shine with nervousness.

"can i ask you something?" she says from the door, so shakily you start fearing she's not going to take it like you wish she would.

"sure." you didn't mean for your voice to come out as quiet as it did.

it's a nerve-wracking couple of seconds watching hanni take a seat in her own bed and face you. she takes a big breath before asking, "do you- no, sorry. are you... gay?"

yes, yes, yes. i am a lesbian. i like girls. you want to scream, but the realization of reality strangles you and your throat feels so tight, and you can't say anything.

"it's not like there's anything wrong about it, i'm just... asking." she tries. you can tell she's trying. it's sweet that she's trying.

"yes." it's a struggle to get it out, and your heart starts racing, but just being able to feels like such a relief that you might start crying. but then fear washes down on you again when you can't read hanni, at all.

"i'm really sorry, hanni. i promise i'm not weird or predatory or anything, i would never try to make you uncomfortable and i'm sorry if i ever did. i promise i don't like you like that, not that you're not attractive or anything, that's not what i mean at all. i just- i would never like you like that, you're like my sister and i promise that i'm still the same y/n you met, i really hope this doesn't change anything in our-" she cuts off your rambled apology-slash-explanation with a hug.

"it doesn't. i promise." it hits you now, just now, that hanni knows. she knows.

"please don't tell the others." you're choked up, and that's the only thing you could say before the tears in your eyes caught up. i don't know how they'll take it, you want to say, but the only thing that comes out is a broken sob.

"i won't. it's okay, y/n."

you've grown closer to hanni than you'd ever thought you would. you spend your nights in your room talking and laughing and watching funny videos you send each other.

it's been a few months since you've debuted and you couldn't be happier. you had someone to rely on, someone who knows all your secrets and can trust her with them, and vice versa.

your career has skyrocketed and your popularity is through the roof, and although there are always negative consequences that come with that fame, it's been mostly great on your end.

danielle doesn't really hang out in your room to talk anymore. if you're honest, you kind of miss it, but she surely has her reasons, and you don't think too much about it.

you're currently in one of the vocal practice rooms at HYBE, setting up your phone to do a phoning live. you'd just finish your vocal practice and you had asked for permission beforehand.

after a few minutes of talking with your fans, recommending movies and talking about food, you hear a knock on your door. quite strange.

"yeah? who is it?" you yell loud enough to no cause any ruckus. the door slightly opens and a face peeks inside, "it's me!" danielle's signature smile shining brightly at you, "i saw you were live and wanted to come hang out."

you didn't even need to tell her anything before she was coming right inside the room to grab a chair and sit beside you. "well, come hang out then!" you face your screen to see danielle struggling to bring the chair closer to you, and you chuckle a bit. "dani's here, guys!"

danielle has always been very touchy; with everyone, that is. today was not the exception, resting her head on your shoulder, holding your hand and locking your fingers together, nuzzling her face in your neck, it's all things you're already used to.

it's never been more than just friendly showcases of affection, to you, at least. and you've also never been irritated by it, but there's some guilt you try to suppress.

you don't want to push her away, you're not uncomfortable with her actions, what is uncomfortable is her potentially finding out your sexuality and thinking you let her shower you with affection for your own amusement. you fear it. but you don't want to think about that right now.

you think about it again, however, when you go back home and open social media only to see videos and threads with thousands of likes and views compiling every sweet moment of affection that happened just mere hours ago.

there's a pang in your chest when you see the tens of delusional comments talking of how much they'd like to see you and your friend as a couple. it feels like you're being strangled, and you suddenly feel unwell, so you close the app and turn off your phone.

"i should watch a movie."

you fully believe your debut was your prime. everyday gets harder, scandal after scandal, comeback after comeback, day after day. you work really hard, your members know, your fans know. but it never looks like it's going to get easier.

you win awards, win some more, get another important deal, shoot another session, write another song, the cycle repeats although not in the same order. like a fucked up loop. you're so fucking tired.

you wonder how hyein is holding up. you care a lot for her, like your little sister. she seems okay, eating a bowl of yogurt and fruits in the living room with haerin and hanni. are you the only one having a hard time?

you need to relieve your stress, and there's really no other option other than going to the gym to work out. so you go back to your room to lazily change into your practice clothes and grab your backpack, "i'm going to the gym." you try your best to sound at least a little enthusiastic as you walk behind the living room couch.

"when are you coming back?" you hear danielle ask from the kitchen, a twinge of concern in her voice. "it might start raining soon."

"i won't take long. if i see it starts to get cloudy i'll get going." you try to put her worries at ease. your gym doesn't have windows, though.

you shouldn't have gone. you're not even supposed to go anyway. it's raining hard, and it might start storming soon. but your manager can't know you're here. one of the many downsides of being in a group with four minors and two barely-adults, you can't call any of them to pick you up. so fuck it, you're taking the public transportation.

kind of extremely risky considering you are literally in newjeans, but okay. what else is there to do? what you failed to consider is the only bus stop being about five blocks away. and the bus doesn't drop you off even remotely close to the dorms. so you're gonna be running in the rain and, fuck it again, you do just that.

the first five blocks to the bus stop weren't that bad, you didn't get soaked like you imagined, blocking most raindrops with your backpack over your head. you really should've just brought an umbrella, though.

good thing you brought a mask, at least. nobody seemed to recognize you on the bus. you take a seat as close as possible to the exit and take out your phone to hurriedly text the group chat.

i got a bit caught up, im omw

domt worry 2 much

ill b there soon :))

minji responds with a thumbs up, hanni leaves an "idiot" that gets a like reaction by haerin. you see danielle write and then stop writing about 3 times, but she ends up not sending anything at all, so you just turn off your phone and look outside for your stop.

it only takes a couple minutes of waiting to see the silhouette of your dorm building. you get off your seat and wait for the bus to halt at the next stop to get off. it's raining a bit harder, but there's nothing you can do except wing it.

and when you get off, you immediately put your backpack on top of your head and start running as fast as you could towards your dorm. you get some looks, but no one can possibly be able to recognize you, not at the speed you're going.

after a few minutes, your legs start getting tired not only from running, but all the exercise you did hours earlier. another thing you failed to consider in this mediocre, careless plan.

but you're almost there. and you're almost not soaked.

by the time you reach your building the only thing about you that isn't wet is your scalp. you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, it's probably one of your members, but you're almost there, you can't pick up.

you enter the gates of the apartment, and you're probably going to make a mess on the floor on the elevator, but your legs can't take it anymore, and you thank any god that hears your prayers when the elevator doors open and it's empty. you can't take more embarrassment right now.

the doors open once again and you try not to make much noise as you run towards your dorm. someone inside must've heard you fumbling with your keys because as soon as you find the right one the door is already open, a concerned danielle with a just as worried minji behind her. you smile at the sight of them. "hello!"

"get your ass inside!" you hear hanni shout from the couch.

you're drying your hair in your room after taking a shower and explaining the situation to your group members. just as you're about to turn on your phone to see what time it is you hear a knock on your door, "can i come in?" it's danielle.

"yup. come on in!" you answer a lot more energized than a couple hours before. danielle's not wearing her usual bright smile, but rather a more worried expression. "y/n, can we talk?"

you're confused. you've never heard or seen her like this before. she's obviously been worried before, she cares about you just as much as the others, but this time it's different. "yeah, what's up?" you try your best to respond calmly and tap a stop in the bed beside yourself, which danielle gladly takes.

"are you okay?" she asks as she settles down at your side. what?

"what do you mean?" you don't notice it but you start fidgeting with your own fingers. danielle notices.

"it's just," she tries looking somewhere else, but she can't help the need of looking into your eyes all the time, looking for some sort of sign, some crack, "i can tell you're stressed. you're tired and... if you need to talk i just want you to know that i'm here." her eyes are dripping honey and her hand is so warm when she grabs yours.

you show her a sluggish smile, "thanks, dani. i appreciate that." when you look back, her face is already finding it's way to the crook of your neck. "i'm just a little tired of everything. it really feels like i'm doing the same things all over again. i know we've achieved a lot as a group but i feel like i have nothing going on for myself." you sigh, danielle says nothing, urging you to continue.

"all the songs i pitch get turned down, my other drafts feel too personal to release as a group song. every song i write with the group in mind feels, i don't know, empty?"

your eyes unfocus as a wave of emptiness washes over you and the only thing you feel is a water droplet from your bangs fall and travel down your temples. and also the warmth shared by danielle's hand in yours.

"i just feel like nothing's going on in my life." you feel danielle's head leave your shoulder and you turn to look at each other at the same time, "i think i know how you feel." she says with the sweetest eyes ever.

"thanks for listening, dani." you smile at her, but it feels so strange when she doesn't smile back. she just stares, right through you. her eyes are so pretty; you've always known but this is the first time you've looked at them directly for so long (there's really nothing else for you to look at when she's so close to your face).

oh, yeah. in a sudden moment you were inches apart. you don't remember moving so it must've been danielle.

you don't really understand what's going on. maybe this is an eye contact battle and you're not supposed to blink. and you think for a moment you had it easy because suddenly danielle's pretty eyes are nowhere to be found and you're staring at her eyelids and long eyelashes instead.

before your brain even thinks of giving you the chance to mutter "i win!" in a silly manner, you feel your own lips getting shut. covered, enveloped by another set of softness.

oh. this is not what you expected at all.

what are you even supposed to do right now? well, pull away, obviously. but that could could give danielle the impression that you hate everything about this and, really, that's not true at all. it's good. well, not good, but- danielle is not horrible at kissing.

what even is happening, anyway? i mean, you're kissing. but what else? nothing feels like it's moving; it feels like time's stopped. there also hasn't been anything that has lead up to this happening.

so you're just left there, paralyzed, in shock, waiting until danielle pulls away. just waiting until she's done with you. until she's satisfied.

and it's until danielle notices that you're not moving that she realizes what she's done. she pulls away, shaken and distraught.

"y/n, i am so sorry. i don't know what came over me, i am so so so sorry. i really didn't mean to do that. please forgive me, y/n, i am really so sorry." at this point, danielle's voice starts to break. "i don't know why i did that, it's just, i don't know, you just looked good a-and we were just close and-"

"it's okay, dani. i know."

"no, y/n, i really am sorry. i-"

"dani, i swear it's fine." you grab her shoulder to reassure her, but is anything really fine right now? "i..." you don't really know what to say next. "i don't, like, hate you or anything. i understand things like that happen. i'm not mad at you."

"really?" you've never seen her tear up so fast. you definitely didn't expect her to tear up at this. but you know the feeling of guilt so well you can't help but feel sympathy for her. "are you sure? i promise it won't happen again."

"i'm sure, dani. you could never do anything to make me hate you."

you smile at her, she sniffles. it's the last thing you hear before you hear the sound of her wristwatch's seconds ticking. you don't really know what's going through her head. you count about 34 ticks.

"did you hate it?" her voice isn't weak, but it is lower than you normally expect it to be.

you're stunned, but the way she looks at you so earnestly, with a hint of nervousness in her eyes forces you to answer within seconds, "n-no! dani, i didn't... hate it. it was just unexpected. i didn't really process it at first." it's the truth, but it feels so gut-wrenching to say.

another 20 ticks of quiet.

"can i do it again?"

hello? hello? what is going on? hello?

"i-i mean, if you want to." it sounds more like a question than a proper answer. and danielle takes it anyway.

you don't have any romantic feelings for danielle, that's for sure. she's said she doesn't have any feelings for you either. that's established. and yet when hanni is too caught up watching movies in the living room with minji and hyein, danielle is always there, sitting in your bed.

sometime's it's just little pecks while you cuddle and watch something she doesn't care much about. sometime's she's on the verge of kissing the living shit out of you.

it's never more than that. none of you let it be more than that. it's more than okay.

it's comfortable. it's casual.

and yet, every time it happens, you feel guilt eat at your stomach.

because danielle doesn't know. and she can't know.

it's not like this was your idea in the first place, it was danielle's. but the fact that you let her do it anyway could be predatory enough for her to feel unsafe if she ever did find out. even if she's the one who caused this all.

and never once do you think about yourself while it happens. it's not a moment for you, it's a moment for danielle to take. and you're okay with that. as long as she's okay with it.

you're okay with many things just because danielle is okay with them.

if danielle wants to watch a romcom, you watch a romcom. if danielle wants to eat plain yogurt, you eat plain yogurt. if danielle wants to kiss you, you let her kiss you.

it's not that big of a deal if there are no feelings involved. it's just a matter of believing that that's actually true.

you let her do whatever she wants because you're scared to do the taking. because taking feels like stealing, and doing feels like attacking. and you're so scared to hurt danielle that you forget you can also hurt yourself.

but if it's so casual, why doesn't she let go of your hand? why does she call you pretty everyday? why does she look at you with those pretty eyes like you're her whole world?

was the "i love you" she said yesterday something she meant as platonic love? is there such a thing as casual love?

was it just the sound of the raindrops on your window that made you hallucinate the sound of a love confession?

you don't eat anything for the rest of the day.

minji and hyein are visiting their parents. hanni and haerin are out of the country. and you're in the dorm kitchen trying to figure out how blurred the lines are while you mix the milk into your tea.

you feel your heart drop when you hear the sound of footsteps of the line-blurrer herself over the sounds of light rain. it hasn't stopped since the day before.

you don't want to feel anything right now, you don't want to hear anything right now.

she wraps her arms around your waist and says, "good morning." with that big bright smile on her face. at one point it started hurting when she did, but you don't remember when.

she smells like the candles you burnt in your room two days after hanni left. you were trying to get rid of danielle's scent from your room, but you couldn't tell her that, so you just said you were trying something new.

danielle notices you say nothing back, and your eyes are nowhere in particular. "watchu thinkin' about?" her always cheery tone gets you out of your trance, and she notices when you stop stirring the spoon in your cup. you're still silent for a bit, but she lets you take your time.

"i don't think we should do this anymore, danielle."

you tense up when her arms leave your waist, but it feels oddly freeing. you don't turn back to face her.

"what do you mean?"

"are we still casual?"

there's disbelief in danielle's voice when she speaks, "what are you talking about? of course we are!" but she sounds dishonest, in a way.

"really?" that's when you turn around, her eyes are wide and her cheeks are quite flushed but nothing about her seems guilty at all, "because saying "i love you" doesn't seem quite casual to me."

she scoffs, "y/n, i tell all my friends i love them. it's a normal thing!"

"i'd agree with you if we weren't kissing on the low. it's a little too much on top of that."

"i don't know what you think casual means but-"

"what i mean is we should stop before the lines start to blur, that's if they haven't already." you don't want to yell at her. you hope she understands before you have to raise your voice. "we are public figures, famous figures. if this goes wrong we can't go back and that could potentially ruin everything, not only for us but for our group."

"well, it can't go wrong if there's no feelings involved, can it?" danielle is usually playfully sassy, but she's never responded to you like this before.

"we're human, danielle. feelings can't be stopped." you're not too good at reading people, but you can see something has clicked in danielle's brain.

"what i'm getting is that you developed feelings for me while we were casual, is that right?" she seems so sure and confident that it annoys you. it frustrates you. and you want to cry.

"no, that's not what i said. but i am scared of it happening, and i want this to stop before it has the chance to."

"well, you should've thought of that before you said yes." you never really did.

"why are you upset, anyways?"

"b-because!" her voice gets louder, "i just wanted this to be casual, and now your telling me you're scared of catching feelings, it's just weird. that's all."

you sigh, "listen, i don't want this to end on a bad note. i just-"

"well, i don't want this to end at all!"

it takes you a minute to believe what you're hearing.

"a-are you hearing yourself?" it's shocking, it really is, "this is crazy, why are you being so selfish right now?"

"because it feels good! okay?!" danielle has completely let go of the loose strings of morality she was holding on to, "it fucking feels good, a-and you make me feel good. i like it when we kiss, and i like it when we cuddle and, and, i just like it, okay?!" that's the first time you've heard danielle curse in your entire life.

"okay, well, i'm glad you did. but i don't. i don't feel good at all." it's so scary and risky because you're two seconds away from telling her the truth, and this could potentially damage both your careers irreversibly, but you can't think of any lie or excuse that is true enough to keep hiding it.

"i drown in guilt every time we kiss and i feel like i'm choking when you look at me these days."

you've never seen her look so confused, like she really doesn't understand you. because she never had to.

"why?"

"i am a lesbian, danielle." you can't shatter, not now. "and it kills me because you'll never understand how hard it is to hide like this for so long. and yes, we hide this casual thing from our members, but after this is over you don't have to hide anything at all and i still have to hide everything."

she says nothing. her eyes soften, but you can't read them. not like you ever could.

"i didn't catch feelings for you, but i could, and you're not helping out. and you don't have to worry about that. you don't have to worry about your members being disgusted at you for something you can't change. you don't have to pretend. you don't have to be scared that you're making someone uncomfortable by simply existing beside them. i had to pretend i didn't care when you kissed me, i had to pretend to be okay when you kissed me again. i've been pretending to be okay with so much i don't know what being okay is anymore."

danielle still says nothing.

"but that's all gone to shit now, hasn't it?" your voice can't break now, but it does anyway, even when your not done speaking. "i can't be okay with everything. i can't be casual about everything, danielle. not anymore." there's a hot tear running down your cheek, but you try to hold yourself together.

"i never want to hurt you, ever, danielle. but i am seriously hurting myself. i am eating myself from inside out. there's nothing casual about that."

"i think i might be in love with you." is the first thing she says in minutes. and that's when you shatter completely. you turn around to leave your mug of now cold tea on the counter and you rest your elbows on it to hide your face in your hands.

"do you think that helps?" you're sobbing.

"i'm sorry. i know it doesn't. i just had a moment of realization and i think that's why i was so upset. i didn't want you to end this because i was in love with you since the start and didn't realize."

"this is fucking crazy." it really is, that's why you can't hold down the laugh of complete astonishment that leaves your lips. "do you realize how crazy this is? i just came out to you and you're- i don't even want to think about this."

"i'm really sorry, y/n." it's the first time you see guilt in danielle's face in a long time. "i really am. i really didn't know, i- i didn't know anything at all."

"you were upset of me potentially having feelings for you when it was you the whole time, huh?" this is no time or place to make jokes, you're literally crying as you speak. but this is hilarious. danielle seems to think so too given she also laughs.

"i don't know what i was thinking." she says, hiding her face in her palm in embarrassment.

"i wish i knew too." you say, "i never do."

"so what now? i mean, you clearly don't like me back." you don't understand how danielle does it. she never looks away, she faces the truth, something you're unable to do easily.

"that's a good question, i actually never thought about that." i mean, you thought the possibility of danielle ever liking a woman, let alone you, was at a mere 0.1%, can you blame yourself for not thinking of a solution to this?

"i mean, you did say you could."

"selfish asshole." you mutter to yourself, but danielle hears it anyways. "hey!"

"i'm crying right in front of you out of fear and frustration, have some respect, dude."

"i would say it wouldn't hurt to try but it clearly does so i don't know what you want to do." wow, danielle really could never do anything to make you hate her. nothing at all. "i don't mind being the selfless one this time."

"cheesy." she's always been like that, you can't say you hate it. "i'll reheat my tea and think about it."

danielle waits for you. maybe it wouldn't be so bad to risk falling in love with her too. you've risked it once.

the microwave beeps and you take your mug out. it's hot again. you turn to face danielle and she's still there, hasn't moved an inch. "i'm willing to give it a try. but nothing casual."

she shines you the widest grin you've ever seen from her. "nothing was ever casual, i fear."

"i still can't believe you cursed." you say as you walk past her to go to your room (that probably smells like danielle's perfume again).

"i did?!" she trails behind you. you nod. "i almost jumped."

"hey, am i the first one to know?"

"what, that i'm a lesbian?" she nods, now beside you. you shake your head after a sip of your tea.

"hanni knew."

"i'm not even the first? fuck..." is she doing this on purpose... she has to be, right?

"dude? hello?"

"don't dude me, i'm your future girlfriend." she hits your arm as you walk into your room. you don't know what you're gonna say to hanni when she comes back.

"confident much? shut up and pick a movie to watch." you'll figure it out later.

end.

🗒️ this wasn't as long as i thought it was gonna be THANK GOD

[dragongirlpoet]

Dark Signs

Part I

<Read Part II here>

Alucard x female reader

Synopsis: A flirty, playful night with Adrian takes a dark turn. (1.6k words)

TW: Dark fantasy, horror, blood, smut (explicit) 🔞

This is my first attempt at smut, and who better than my bby Alucard as MC. I hope you enjoy it!

“…And there, in the dead of night, under a moon so maroon, the White Wolf prowled — ravenous. Sturdy were its footsteps, calculated were its gait. Ahead, still as a rosebud in a windless twilight, its prey lay splayed out — helpless. 

Something about its small intakes of breath, its unsuspecting demeanour, made it all the more enticing for the imposing predator. Ever so slowly, the White Wolf, eyes like the golden gleam of a rising dawn, emerged from the thicket, pressing forward, inching closer, closer, closer…”

Body hovering over mine, Alucard’s words were a rasp above my cheek. The antiquated tome he had been reading from now a forgotten humdrum between our bodies. As velvet lips collided into me, I melded into his being. He was a hypnotic wave crashing into shore, and I was but delicate driftwood being dragged underwater.

His kiss was insistent, impatient. I had no escape, no cavity of air to quell the lack of oxygen in my lungs. Still, I kept going, because he was the only breath I needed. My fingers clawed ruthlessly at his back — muscle and bone Herculean from years of battling night creatures and evil forces. Skin so utterly cold, yet I wanted — needed — more.  

His body was a frigid storm to my fervent summer. “You are glorious as the solstice sun, darling. With you I am forever warm, within you I live eternally,” the confession falling easy from his lips the day he had taught me how to hunt.

Faces lost in each other, bodies entwined and limbs tugging like our lives depended on it, Alucard let his hand roam under my nightdress, finally finding solace in the swell of my chest. I shifted slightly at the unusual chill. Was he ever this cold?

Over the months I had become accustomed to his half human intricacies. His unnerving stillness, his undeniable thirst for blood try as he might to hide it, his erratic need to stay up nights in a row roaming the castle “just to be sure…” 

I was no fool. Those witching hours almost always had him back in his childhood room — he would stare, as if entranced, at the spot he had staked his father. And I would see the grief in his eyes — the absolute contrition at his travesty, one he wished he could take back, but couldn’t. 

Alucard, the son of the great Dracula and benevolent Lisa Tepes, the almighty dhampir. A being so beautiful he could bring a kingdom to its knees, yet one so cruelly tormented by his past.

“Baby, eyes on me.” My eyes fluttered open, realising I was lost in the wrong moment. He crashed his lips into mine once again. 

As if in a bid to stop my obsessive thinking, he started to grab at my breast, kneading furiously, thumb toying with my nipple. I leaned in closer, but alas my human endurance had reached its limits and I pulled away for air. 

“I want to know what happened to the prey. I am most opposed to unfinished stories,” I tried to play coy in between ragged breaths. Nose to mine, he wore a smirk on his handsome face. He had a playful glint to his stare — contemplative, as if taunting me to continue with my officious fib. 

Alucard picked the tome up from my stomach, grazing his fingers ever so slightly over my abdomen. He trailed the book slowly down my navel, its cracked spine against my bare skin sent fireworks to my core. I watched with bated breath as the print finally landed where he wanted it — in between my legs. He dragged its spine down, then up again, repeating the motion, teasing, eyes never leaving mine. 

Satisfied with how wet my undergarment had become, he hushed, “I think it better if I showed you instead. Don’t you agree, princess?” 

“Ye..yesss,” 

“Do you like that?”

“Yesss…”

“Open your legs wider.”

I obeyed. Submitting to him was easy. Too easy.

“Let’s see just how wet you are for me, hmm?” 

Without warning, Alucard ripped my soaking cloth off my hips and plunged two fingers inside. I cried out at the shock and how good it felt, and as if by instinct grabbed his hands and guided them deeper into me. Alucard let out a stifled moan at my brazenness, his erection growing fast under his black britches.

He watched with eyes half-lidded, completely spellbound as I bounced into his hand, my breasts rising and falling with every thrust. Body and mind so turned on he reached urgently into his pants and started stroking his length. 

For a long moment we just sat there, eyes locked on each other, legs spread wide, our sex stimulated. And what a profane sight it must have been for our bed chamber was filled with nothing but wanton “fucks” and the squelching of his fingers coated in my lust. 

I fucked myself into his fingers harder, and reached desperately for his cock. With more force than necessary, he caught both my wrists with his free hand and pinned them to my stomach. “That’s for later,” he chided. 

Alucard was usually wary of his inhuman strength around me. But tonight, tonight he was carnal, rough, like an animal being let out of its cage. His knuckles went white with how much pressure he had put on my wrists, and I bit my lip knowing it was going to bruise. 

As if to edge me further, Alucard pulled his fingers out and gazed at them ever so intently, admiring the slather of fluid glistening like diamonds on his digits. If his etherealness hadn’t killed me, then perhaps what he did next would have driven me close to death. With deliberate calm, he brought his fingers into his mouth, swiping his tongue over my juices, savouring every single trickle.

My dhampir, hair like a divine cascade of golden waterfalls, on his knees, drinking my lust as if it were vital sustenance, yet all that he was was in direct contrast to his reverence — powerful, dominant and deadly. I marvelled at his masculine elegance — the way his pectorals tensed as he licked his fingers dry, how his faded sanguine scar stood distinct against his alabaster skin, the definition of muscles that ran down his pelvis…

I swallowed. 

“God, you taste so good. Only for me, yes?” 

“Yesss…” Being thoroughly educated and well-read, I was fairly ashamed it was all the vocabulary I could muster.

And it would seem that more crude words were soon to follow, as Alucard then dove in between my thighs and sent his tongue plunging — deep, depraved — into my clenching walls.  

“Fuuuck, Adrian!” 

Hearing his name sent him over the edge, and he started sucking hard — wet pillow lips against wet pillow flesh. I was heaven and hell collided, rising from it like the luminescent birth of a star. I ground my core into his face, hands grasping his woven-gold hair, willing him to dive further into me. 

Alucard groaned in pleasure against my clit. Powerful, cold hands gripped my thighs apart, and my sweet lover lay soft kisses to the insides, thumbs expertly caressing my sensitive folds. In all his vampire glory, he bared his fangs ever so slightly, sharp teeth just barely peeking through, grazing them over my clit and thighs, nibbling, never breaking skin. I was undone. 

“Adrian…Adrian please…”

“Please what?”

I was all heavy pants and delirious to give a coherent reply.

Head still positioned at the apex of my thighs, his eyes raked over his masterpiece — delicate features coated in sweat, nipples hard from stimulation and the soppy, pulsating cunt laid out like a feast inches from his mouth. What a mess he had made of me, and a mess he was most certainly proud of. 

From in between my legs, Adrian was a fallen angel from a paradise unknown. His eyes like gold afire were so wholly glazed over they looked like one with the smouldering flames nestled atop our chamber candles. 

Patience waning, he asked again. “Please…” humming the words into my clit…“what?” A loud moan escaped my lips. I arched my back in sheer pleasure, feeling the build up in my core.

He dragged his fangs against my thighs, eyes fixated on mine, drinking in my desire. 

“I want…I want…” my chest heaving so violently from how close I was to release.

“What do you want?” Adrian moved to whisper against my ear. This was too much. 

“I want…I want you to turn me.”

Alucard went very still, his pupils blown wide. Everything went very still. The flames lost its dance, the curtains absent of sway.

“What did you say?” His voice was still water with undercurrents of danger. 

His statuesque figure towered over me, pinning me under. 

“I said, I want you to turn me.” 

Alucard held my stare, and as I took them in, an unearthly shadow seemed to lurk beneath those incandescent irises. 

If my question threw him off guard, his unsettling stillness made it clear he wasn’t most fond of surprises. It took a long moment before he finally moved, his supernatural speed having him by the window in seconds. 

Frustration soon shrouded my orgasmic high. I forced my spent body off the reprieve of our mattress. He was going to answer me whether he liked it or not.

“Adrian! You cannot disregard my question any longer! I’ve wanted this from the first time you made love to me, don’t pretend it was never asked of you,” exasperation evident in my tone.

“Peril or not, I am not afraid. I…”

A sudden squall of wind extinguished the flickering flames. Our bed chamber was plunged into chasmic darkness, summoning a bitter chill that seeped through the wooden floors. There, still as a predator hunting prey, hovered the glowing golden orbs of Alucard's eyes, the blacks of his pupils far wider than I’d ever seen. 

“A…Adrian?” 

Part II

[strawberri-blonde]

From Palulukan Attacks to Fruit Baskets - Neteyam

Summary: You’re eagerly waiting for Neteyam to return from his hunt. But when he appears bruised and bloody, your irritation turns into a caring instinct, and you start taking care of him.

Warning: Meantions of blood, gashes and bruises, and curse words other than that it’s all good!

Masterlist:

Your heart beats in your throat as half the day's sunlight disappears. Your eyes scurried along the crowd of your people who had just ventured on direhouses coming from a hunt. You clenched your fist around your woven basket that carried all the delicious fruit you'd collect for the tribe's feast tonight. As the hunters poured in from the overnight hunt your nervousness jumbled as if his face wasn't alongside the first group of warriors.

You took a deep breath and slowly let it out, figuring that, of course, the son of the Olo'eyktan wouldn't appear first. He'd be alongside his father, making sure that no predators were stalking the game they managed to sacrifice for the great feast celebrating Eywa's great blessings.

That's why you weren't out hunting with your friends. It turns out that some of the gatherers made a mistake and ate a semi-poisonous berry, thinking it was the lionberry. So, the Ole'eyktan specifically asked you to stay behind and lend a hand, knowing that your mother was a skilled gatherer who had passed down her wisdom to you.

Those moments of picking fruit for your mother and carefully selecting the best ones for your father before a hunt hold a special place in your heart. It was during those times that your warrior spirit truly blossomed. From witnessing the hunters shooting arrows at targets to riding direhorses, it all resonated with you.

Growing up, when it was time for you to become an active clan member, there was no doubt that you wanted to be a strong warrior. You were dedicated to your training, always showing up early and putting in extra effort to excel. Even Jake Sully complimented you multiple times, saying you were the best in the class. His words always made you feel a bit bashful.

Training alongside the great Ole'eyktan was a bonus, especially with his son Neteyam. Neteyam had already earned his place as a mentor for future warriors, and his wisdom surpassed his years. He was truly incredible. Being the youngest ever to bond with an Ikran, he was there to help you bond with yours. Neteyam is not only smart, but he's also incredibly patient. You remember when he patiently guided your arms to help you shoot a gun, understanding that the human way of doing things was new to you. It may have been silly to have a crush on him, knowing that the elders were in the process of choosing someone for him, but you couldn't help it. He was just too easy to like; too easy to fall for.

As your eyes scan the group of hunters entering through the entrance flap, fear races when you realize that Jake is riding in without his sons Neteyam and Lo'ak. Since you oversaw the fruit, it made them down a member, so Jake allowed Lo'ak to join the hunt, which made you feel a bit anxious.

No doubt, you had a liking for Lo'ak. He's always been nice to you and knew how to make you laugh. But after years of pining over Neteyam, you couldn't help but notice how Lo'ak always seemed to get in trouble, no matter what. He was good at it. And what he was even better at was making Neteyam tag along. It always ended with the older brother getting yelled at or hurt; more often than not, it was both.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you witnessed Neytiri rushing towards the Ole'eyktan, her eyes filled with unmistakable worry. Your throat tightened, and a dry sensation washed over your mouth as your mind raced to make sense of the situation. Without thinking, your body instinctively reacted, carrying your feet towards the entrance. With determination, you forged your way through the frantic crowd, maneuvering yourself through the chaos. And then, in a sudden twist of fate, Neteyam and Lo'ak burst through the tall grass. The sight of them brought a mix of relief and surprise, leaving you momentarily breathless.

You couldn't help but notice the painful expression on his strong facial features. His lips were busted, causing him to wipe away the blood along his jaw. Neteyam's whole presence seemed disgruntled, his braids looking messy with twigs and leaves poking out here and there. His chest appeared darker as if a bruise was already beginning to form. Despite all of that, he still looked beautiful in your eyes. The decorative necklace had lost a few feathers, and the loincloth had been slightly torn, but it didn't make him look indecent.

Lo'ak's seemingly untouched appearance made your blood boil. With a stoic expression, you followed your father's advice about hiding your emotions and discreetly handed off the fruit basket to a passing Na'vi, ignoring their confused gaze.

Your swift movements caught the Sully family off guard as you approached the wounded prince. "Neteyam? What happened? Are you okay?"

You gently touched his cheek with an outstretched hand to look closer. Then, you noticed the hidden gash on his forehead, concealed by his braids. Carefully examining the cuts on his face and neck, you tenderly wiped away the blood to assess the extent of the injuries. Your shock grew as you saw deep cuts along his hairline and cheek. The wound under his jaw was equally severe, with torn skin and blood. One of the gashes on his arm leaked bright red liquid, a concerning sight.

"Neteyam?" Your voice rises in pitch with every word you say, "You're hurt!" and that's when the world around you becomes real again.

Who were you to walk up to Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan, the prince of the Omatikaya clan, and his family? Who were you to touch his face? You were a nobody, just a warrior, and he was the Ole'eyktan's firstborn son, the heir to leading the clan someday.

Looking into his golden eyes, you crumbled under his gaze, dropping your hand from his cheek. Neteyam slowly blinked as if he couldn't believe you had done that, but he didn't pull away. "We were walking a little behind and ran into a Palulukan, that's it?" His tone was firm, but the pain in his voice was evident.

You felt nervous with his family's eyes on you, but seeing him hurt, the person with the kindest soul you admired, compelled you to act. Without hesitation, you gently wrapped his arm around your shoulders, providing support like you would for his lower back.

"Oh, great, Eywa, let's ensure you get to Tsahík first. Your well-being should be our top priority. You've protected our feast, Neteyam." The words tumbled from your lips, and the Sully family exchanged glances, but luckily you didn't notice.

"Yeah, Y/n, you're right," Jake huffed before patting Neteyam's back, trying to offer him a comforting expression. But the clan leader knew something was up when Lo'ak didn't meet his eyes. "Thank you for looking out." With a firm nod, the Ole'eyktan gently pulled away from his oldest, grabbing Lo'ak's shoulder and pulling him alongside him, muttering, "What the hell happened? What happened to 'I won't cause trouble'?"

You glance at Neytiri and lower your head as a sign of respect. But the older woman stops you and gently lifts your chin, making you maintain eye contact. Her eyes no longer show worry; they hold gratitude, and her smile is comforting. "Take care of my baby," she says, words filled with warmth and trust.

"Mom," Neteyam groaned, and you couldn't help but giggle, causing Neytiri to share a giggle, too.

Seeing you and Neytiri laugh together made him feel better amidst the pain.

"Of course, Neytiri," you say, gently nudging Neteyam. Together, you start your journey towards the healers' tent. As you pass by, people stare, and some attempt to stop and ask what has happened. But with a glare, you make it clear that you won't entertain their questions and continue guiding the bloodied warrior toward the healing lodge.

"Tsahik!" you called out, eagerly pushing back the flaps of the tents in search of help. "Mo'at, are you here?"

"Grandmother!"

As you guided Neteyam towards the large woven mat, your hands could feel the stickiness of the blood, creating a sense of urgency. Your eyes scanned the chamber, and you realized it was empty, with the walls adorned with paintings of Eywa's creations. The bowls and jars of paste were neatly put away, and the air was still, carrying the lingering scent of herbs.

"Oh no," you exclaim, panic setting in as you look down at Neteyam's impressive muscular build and examine his wounds. "Why is no one here?"

Neteyam could sense the worry in your voice and feel it in your touch. Your hands were shaky as you gently pulled back his hair to access his skin better. Considering your skill in your field, it was unusual for you not to have a steady hand. Neteyam had witnessed your steady hand firsthand, so seeing this affected him deeply.

"Hey, it's fine. I'm okay." Neteyam's bloodied hands grasped yours, which were over his open wounds.

You shook your head, letting out a scoff in disbelief. "Only you would try to comfort someone when a Palulukan attacked you." This man was too good. He was so used to being a provider for his family and a whole clan that his selfless acts came naturally to him. But he didn't need to be in that role right now. Not with you.

While Neteyam chuckled out a "you got me" at your words, you took a deep breath, not allowing your little crush to get the best of you.

"Don't move." You mumbled out, pulling away from him reluctantly.

"Couldn't if I wanted to." Groans escaped his lips as you scurried around the tent, scrimmaging around to find specific herbs that your mother had taught you from her mother. Finding what you were looking for, you began looking for some needle and thread.

His silent, sharp breath intake makes you hurry through the material, and you let out a silent prayer as you find what you need. You rushed back to him, downing on your knees, scattering the material beside you to have it ready.

Firstly, you dipped your pointer and third finger in a bowl of brown paste made from mushrooms that had many health benefits, from pain relief to clotting blood. You collected the grainy substance and brought your fingers toward his busted lip. "Open." Neteyam didn't protest as you dragged the paste along his tongue, making his lick turn into a suck wiping your fingers clean. If not for his disheveled disposition, you might have passed out on the woven mat, needing medical attention.

You paused for a second to catch your breath, then turned your eyes to the large gash on his cheek. You apply more paste on the cut and smear it around until it hardens and seals the wound shut. You examine the rest of the injuries and use the paste and other healing materials to seal and sterilize his wounds - all the while, Neteyam remains quiet and still, eyes fixed on you.

As you gulped, your hands reached for the bucket of clean water near the post near the middle of the tent, ready to wipe away the dried blood and wasted paste from the parts of his skin that didn't need attention. "You always seem to amaze me." Your eyes widened as you looked up at him, taking in his complimentary words. Neteyam could see the disbelief in your eyes, so he continued. "I'm serious."

You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth to dunk the rag back in the cool water to clean it of his blood. "I don't know about that." Neteyam's amber eyes didn't bother leaving your face as you moved towards his busted lip, ridding it of dirt and debris.

"Well, I know." His words struck something in you. Your breath haltered, realizing that you were so close to his face. Even with it being bruised and wounded, he never failed to be so beautiful.

A soft purple hue covered your face, reaching the tops of your pointy ears. Looking up from his lips trailing toward his eyes, electricity filled your body. "You're too kind." Your doe eyes captivated Neteyam's attention, making him inch closer to you. "I just had a great mentor to look up to."

"Your father is a remarkable hunter."

With a soft smile, you let the smile through your body as you hear Neteyam's words. You reach for the bucket and rinse the rag, savoring the moment. Then, you let your wet hands glide over his right forearm, feeling the softness of his skin. You grasp his wrist in your hand, being careful and gentle. Finally, you bring his hand towards the awaiting water, your eyes locked with his. "I wasn't talking about my dad," you say, your voice filled with a low tone.

This had Neteyam gulp, feeling your nimble fingers caress his skin. As your eyes held contact with him, he felt insecure for the first time in a while. A purple flashed on his cheeks from your intense gaze. Neteyam was the first to pull away from the moment, swaying his beaded hair over his shoulder.

You thought you made him uncomfortable, so you quickly grabbed his left wrist and tugged it toward the bucket to wash away the remaining dirt. But instead, you had his heart soaring, so it was surprising when he asked, "Are you going to the feast tonight?" Neteyam winced, realizing it was a silly question. After drying your hands, you passed him the towel and got up.

As you gathered the materials to put them away, your nerves jumbled together. You passed him glances and confidently said, "Of course, why wouldn't I?" It seemed like a loaded question, but you didn't give him time to reply. "Plus, my parents are using this feast to find potential mates." Without looking at Neteyam, you reached for a Spartan fruit in the woven basket on the counter.

What you didn't know was that the elders were doing the same tonight for Neteyam as well.

As you examined the variety of fruits, you picked two perfect-looking purple fruits and began to turn back around when Neteyam's voice echoed through your ears. "Then you and your family should sit with mine." His silent groans filled the air, along with shuffling. You whip your head in his direction, not believing what you were hearing.

You didn't move as he strolled over to take one of the spartan fruits out of your hand to bring it up toward his face, but he didn't bite into it yet. "It's the least I can do to thank you for caring for me. I also know you wanted to go on this hunt, but you had to stay behind to help gather food," he gestured towards the spartan.

You feel your heart pounding as you realize what Neteyam is suggesting. You are stunned and breathless, not knowing how to react to such a request. Your hands clutch onto the fruit, fingers tightly wrapped around it. Neteyam lifts the fruit to his lips and bites into it, his eyes drifting to you.

"You look like you just saw your first Ikran," he smiles, chewing playfully on the fruit. "I'm just asking you to sit with my family," he explains, glancing down at you.

"With the clan leaders." You mentioned making him smile softly.

"Just thought it was a nice gesture," Neteyam doesn't know where the courage it took for him to look in your doe eyes. "With our table overlooking the clan, I'd figure it'd give your parents the ability to see all the eligible people for you. Or maybe," the warrior paused as you picked a twig from his messy hair. "They won't need to look far."

You held onto the twig as if it had some magical power to keep you grounded. "Okay. I think I can get my parents to agree.” You managed to muster out, trying not to get your hopes up with his words. He was just being nice.

You took a bite of the purple fruit slurping up the sweet juices and chewing off the soft textured skin, “As long as you tell me the story about how you and Lo'ak encountered a Palulukan and you seemed to get your ass handed to you."

Neteyam lowered his head in a chuckle before biting himself into the goodness. “Of course! I’ll save you a seat next to me.”

This will be the last Neteyam fic until October, so follow up for updates!

~ Caroline

[needle-noggins]

The Biology and Riding of Thoma

Thoma, also known as Thomases (singular: Thomas), are the primary animal used on No Man's Land for transportation, meat, eggs, feathers and oil. The meat can be eaten fresh or dried into jerky, and thoma meat, fried in thoma oil and sprinkled with worm dust, is a popular street food. These massive birds were genetically engineered early on in No Man's Land history and are well-suited for the desert, making them easy to raise and care for. Plus, they're easy to ride.

Biology

Thoma are a combination of several bird species, genetically similar to Emu and Ostriches, but with the stature of much larger birds such as the extinct Terror birds (Phorusrhacids), standing near 5-6 feet tall at the withers. Their bright blue plumage and loosely-packed feathers helps dissipate heat. They have long eyelashes to keep out dust, and they have a second eyelid that protect the cornea from grit and bright UV light. This does, however, decrease visibility, making them more prone to tripping over rocks.

Thoma have a long, feathery neck that helps balance them at faster speeds along with the heavy, muscled keel. The keel is engineered to be similar to that of a broiler chicken, as their vestigial wings are useless except for thoma mating displays. Under the throat is a vocal sac, which can be used to transmit low rumbles over long distances. Most thoma, however, prefer to chirp at a frequency easily heard by their human caretakers and riders. They have long, powerful legs, capable of galloping up to 40 iles an hour, and a kick that can disembowel an attacker or rip into a worm's exoskeleton. The three talons on their feet need to be trimmed by an experienced farrier every 4-8 weeks, depending on a bird's mileage.

Thoma eat a diet of seeds, grains, worms, and (when available) fruits and vegetables. Like many birds before them, they will sometimes ingest small rocks and pebbles to help grind their food in the gizzard. The thin, short beak is perfect for pecking at the ground, and when provoked, they will also peck at an enemy. Thoma are, however, generally good-natured creatures, as they have been bred to be.

Riding

Thoma are easy-going and very trainable with a nice floating gait, making them great mounts for humans on No Man's Land. Like many birds, they can move their legs independently from the movement of the spine, which allows the use of saddles. Most saddles are similar to old Western saddles, and are optimized for comfort and long journeys. However, in the bigger cities, some people may ride Thoma in competitions, typically using more English-style tack for greater control of the bird. typically two straps are used to secure the saddle - a breastplate to keep it from sliding back, and a girth/breeching to prevent it from sliding forward. The strong legs are left free to move as needed, giving the bird great flexibility.

The tack on the head often consists of a bridle, a canvas covering on the neck, and a headpiece with blinders. Headpieces and bridles may vary, as the design has been through several different iterations, but the general idea is to generate gentle pressure on the beak when the reins are pulled and to protect the eyes. The headpiece often has blinders and a screen over the eyes, allowing the bird to travel without using the second eyelid. This allows the thomas to move with greater agility, picking its way around desert rocks even at high speeds. The canvas across the neck protects the feathers from the reins and keeps the bird cool. Some headpieces also include a protective metal beak piece that can be used as a weapon.

Thoma make excellent mounts as they are docile, easy to train, have very few natural predators, little fear of humans, and can live on worms alone in a pinch. They do require some water, not having ability to store much themselves, but their ability to dissipate heat and the ways in which the tack can help keep them cool minimizes the need. There are a few wild herds, but most thoma live on ranches or in stables, marked with a leg band or brand.

[redheadspark]

Can you write that Druig x Fem!eternal!reader have a fighting training moment, he tease her little bit during that so...😏 just fluff

A/N - Hey! Sorry for taking so long, I had to finish my prompt session! This was amazing to write, thanks for requesting this, anon!

Soft

Summary - Druig knows how to talk, but you know how to fight.

Warnings - Some teasing and some fluff :)

“Again.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, do it again,”

You eyed him as he was making fists at his sides, his icy blue eyes were watching you like a predator who was eyeing his game.  To him, he probably thought this was a game, which made sense since he was the one who wanted to spar with you and learn how to fight.  Properly fight, in his words.  

But for him to ask you?  That threw you off since you knew you weren’t the best fighter amongst all the Eternals.  That was left to Thena, she made fighting look so easy and almost like a dance.  Even Gilgamesh was better at fighting than you were, with his brute strength he would knock a boulder back as if it were a flower petal.

Druig was no fighter, being the mind reader of you all he stayed out of the physical fights against the Deviants.  He could control a crowd of humans instantly with a simple gaze, so there was no real need for him to get his hands dirty.  

But he was intrigued and wanted to learn, which is what brought him to you one afternoon on the Domo before you were going to go on patrol with Gilgamesh.

“You just wanna….learn?” You asked him, seeing him fold his hands behind his back and simply give you his signature smirk and a shrug.

“Better to prepare myself in case it’s needed,” He replied smoothly, you giving him a suspicious look.  Druig was always mysterious to those around him, whether he tried to be or not.  There was always something hidden within him that no one could pinpoint, and this was one of those instances.  You looked from him to Gilgamesh, who simply shrugged and chuckled as you looked back at Druig.

“Why me?” You asked, seeing him smirk at you as his eyes drilled into yours.

“I heard you’re an excellent teacher,” he smoothly replied.  Gilgamesh snickered behind you, and you felt the tips of your ears burning.  Something in your mind was telling you that he was playing games with you, wanting to get a rise out of you and make you sweat.  He was always like this with the others, with you, when it came to his own amusement.  Snide remarks, and jokes under the breath, but they were all harmless in a way.  Yet this time, just in the way he said it and in how he was observing you for your reaction, you didn’t feel like giving him the light of day.

“Fine,” You replied shortly, seeing him grin widely in return.  

“Fine,” he echoed.  But you were already thinking of a great way to teach him how to fight.

By breaking him.

“Druig, I’m not gonna keep going if you’re on the verge of breaking an arm,” you advised him as he was souring off again, his feet planted on the ground and the adrenaline still seeping through his skin.  You could see it, his energy draining him with every round you two were doing.  It was making you want to ease and pull back a bit, but the other times you tried he was pushing you to not hold back with him.  From the very start, he wanted you to be hard with him, which surprised you when you both met up together in one of the smaller rooms in the Domo that was turned into a makeshift training room.

“I don’t want easy, understand?”

“You sure you wanna request that?”

“Yes. Don’t hold back with me,”

“I can do It,” he said to you, but even his voice sounded out of breath with his hair plastered to his head.  You rolled your shoulders, feeling some of the strain yourself since you both were sparring rather hard this day.  It was getting hard for you to find a good spot to pin him down, he was a faster learner and was picking up on questions and punches quickly.  Compared to the very beginning, you would be throwing him over your shoulder within two moves or knocking him off his feet with a swipe of your leg.  He wasn’t quick or light on his feet, he mostly had lead feet and slow hands.  

But if there was one thing Druig would never do, was quit.  

He took every beating and every defeat, his skin would be covered in bruises and his muscles would scream out in strain as the days rolled by.  But he would always show up, you think that he would fold after the first week or two.  Not that you had no faith in him, you did to a certain point.  But Druig was never a fighter by nature, and for him to go against his nature didn’t seem like him at all.  

“I’m not saying you can’t, I’m saying I won’t.” You changed your wording, though now he was giving you an inquisitive look while you placed your hands on your hips.

“Sounds like you’re going soft on me,” he teased to which you raised a brow.

“This coming from you who is about to collapse in exhaustion,” You countered back, though he cracked a big grin.  You knew this was part of his game, using his words as a weapon to try his opponent off.  He did it with Ikaris so many times, along with Sprite when those two would get in a spat.  But now he was trying it with you, and you were trying your best to not let it show.

“You would like to see that, wouldn’t you?” He hummed, maybe hoping that you would smile.  But it was only giving your more adrenaline, to wipe the smirk off his face and to make him eat his words.  He saw your fists at your sides getting tighter and tighter, your legs locking in, and your eyes training in on him.

“Fine, we’ll go one more round,” You replied shortly, Druig’s smirk getting a bit bigger.  Perhaps he thought he got the best rise out of you and was going to win this little game he liked to play. But then again, he must not have known the side of you that you rarely showed the others, only in the heat of battle.  

“You know, softness does look good on you,” He said lightly.  You felt the lick of adrenaline come back over you again from his words, which were trying to shoot you like darts and trying to penetrate you.  But all you wanted to do at this point was shut him up, to somewhat put him in his place with how he was treating you.  There was no doubt you two were friends, but he also knew how to use his words to make himself feel superior.  It worked on Ikaris, on Sprite, and now he was trying to work it on you.

No. Not gonna happen

You made it across the room in a few strides, dodging the first punch he threw out with ease, and threw one back.  The sparring was brutal now, both of you going swiftly and with ease as punches and kicks were being thrown left and right.  Neither one of you were holding back, some cheap shots to the jaw or to the ribs and you dodging everything he gave you.  You did the same with him, noticing how quick he was now and simply not just trying to avoid a punch. 

But he got you in a good enough hold with both of your arms, his own arms wrapped around yours tightly as he was pressed against your side.  You tried to shrug it off one or twice, but he had some strength against him now as he chuckled right against you, almost in your ear.  His body heat longing for yours, his sweat mingling with yours, and simply being this close was enough to make you almost forget the position you were in.  The kind of intimacy that you had with the others being on the ship for so long together, you all had a connection of family and of leaning on one another.  

But this, this was different, this felt like a different kind of intimacy that you never felt before. The kind to make your heart beat a bit faster, to make your head a bit lighter, and that sense of safety being close to him.  But it was odd since he was always there, from the moment you all came to Earth.  Yet now, it felt like a shift.

“I like seeing this side of you, you know,” he said against your ear, making you almost shiver as you were still trapped in his hold, “And to think I got you all soft too,”

You glared.  That did it.

Pivoting with your leg, you pushed it up to be parallel to your body, then pushed Druig a bit to have your foot hit him square in the head as a distract him.  It worked, his grip on your arms loosening slightly but enough to have you move.  Throwing your leg back down as he stumbled from being kicked between the eyes, you know him back with your body and turn to back him.  You knocked him off his feet with your leg within a millisecond, seeing him fall on his back and you perched over him.  Grabbing his arm to pin it down with one hand and the other hand on his neck, right on a pulse point where you knew was his weak spot.

It all happened so quickly, one minute he had you pinned against him and the next he was pinned beneath you on the ground.  But something inside of you snapped, something animalistic and that wanted to prove that you weren’t going to be swayed by him.  You knew your own strength, your own worth when it came to being in a fight, and your ability.  But the way Druig was looking up at you, pinned to the ground and having no way of getting out of it, you saw something in his eyes.  There wasn’t hate, nor was there rage that you won at his own game.

Shock?  Astonishment?  What was it?

“Am I soft now?” You asked, your hand on his neck still soft enough to let him breathe but there was still a grip to keep him in control.  He gulped, you feeling it along your fingers as his blue eyes were searching yours.  Now he was hard to read, which was bothering you now since you felt like you went too far in both kicking him in the head and slamming him to the ground.  But then again, he was keeping his eyes on you.  No longer was he looking at you like some prize, there was another way he was looking at you.  Yet you couldn’t pinpoint it.

“No,” He gasped, not in pain, but out of breath.  Slowly, you were moving your hand away from his neck, right where you were feeling his pulse dancing against his skin and along your fingers.  This was a new sense of intimacy neither of you ever experienced with one another before, and it was fresh and raw and new.  Something inside of you was frightened by this, but it also felt….right. 

You released his arm and his neck, moving quickly to go back up on your feet and holding your hand out for him to grasp.  He was still sprawled on the floor, frozen like he was stuck against the ground, and had his eyes still on you in amazement.  You surprised him plenty of times in sparring sessions, yet this didn’t look like a surprise.  It looked like he was….having an out-of-body movement.

“We’re done for the today, okay?” You asked gently, seeing him finally move his arm up to grasp your hand.  You hoisted him up, seeing him nod his head and still silent as you smiled.  The mood was still tense amongst the pair of you, but it was better than how it was a moment before when you two were tangled in each other’s arms.  

“Come on, let’s get some food,” You said to him, seeing him smile in return for the first time.  It made you feel better to see him smile, not to see him scowl or seem angry with how you handled him. But then again he did ask for you not to hold back, to not reserve your strength to him.  You walked on, thinking he was behind you as you were feeling rather flushed from what just occurred.

You didn’t realize that you left Druig there, speechless with one of his hands reaching up to touch his neck where your fingers were.  You didn’t realize that his mind was turning and wandering to new thoughts, and new feelings.  

You especially didn’t realize that he was suddenly enraptured with you.

The End.

Tagging - @a-lumos-in-the-nox @botanicalbarnes @virtueassassin @saradika @heartofwritiing @pemberlyy @heliosphere8 @reader6898

[would-this-pokemon-be-a-friend]

You've done Fidough, yes, but what about Dachsbun? Would the sweet bread doggo evolution make a good pet? ❤️

[I have indeed covered fidough, so I’ll be sure to link to it at the bottom of this post!]

The “sweet bread doggo”, as you put it, would indeed make a good pet! Dachsbuns nearly warrant a “just a dog” rating, and perhaps I should’ve just gone for it, but the lack of data about this fairly recently discovered species makes it difficult to make a firm ruling. This will probably be a shorter post (something I tell myself literally every time), but let’s jump right into it.

To begin with, dachsbuns are a perfect size to be a house pet! They don’t seem to have greater space needs than any real-world dogs do, and they would be pretty easy to transport around. Much like their pre-evolution, fidough, dachsbuns are incredibly friendly and personable. They’ve long been a staple of farming villages in places like the Paldea region, as their peculiar-but-pleasant aroma is said to help wheat grow (Scarlet), so they’ve long been domesticated and have lived peacefully alongside humans. Whereas fidough would make great pets for bakers because of the natural aid they can providing yeast (gross but cool, I guess), dachsbuns would make great pets for farmers due to their natural ability to help crop growth.

A very important thing to keep in mind with this species is that they may be prime targets for certain predators. Like mentioned above, these pokémon emit a powerful smell, described in the pokédex as both “pleasant” and “appetizing” (Scarlet, Violet). This might make a dachsbun that’s playing outside the target of attacks from hungry pokémon. That’s not to say that a dachsbun could’nt defend themselves, of course. They have a natural defense against fiery attacks, as their skin hardens to protect them when faced with intense heat (Violet), and they can use a variety of moves to fight back or even disarm enemies with moves like Baby-Doll Eyes. That being said, the world of pokémon is a pretty crazy place, so I wouldn’t recommend letting your dachsbun play outside without supervision.

Thankfully, these pokémon aren’t all too dangerous to humans, all things considered. Moves like Bite, Crunch, and Double Edge can pack a punch, but their small size and friendly demeanor makes them not much more dangerous than a real-world dog.

If you’re looking to adopt a pokémon that doesn’t differ too much from real-world pets, a dachsbun might make the perfect pick for you (especially if you love the smell of just-baked bread)!

The Fidough Post:

[bamsara]

Could you please do No. 2? "I'm dying" "You're not dying." Just imagining moon fed up with Y/N, also LOVE your stories btw, have a great day bam!

Moon Centric | Wordcount: 700 | AO3 Version

Set in the time period where Moon is not yet reinstated as DCA, still has 'glitch issues', Reader is somewhat used to it.

Since the coffee maker in the employee's lounge was broken since the start, and you're not entirely sure what they put in the drink at the pizzaplex's own cafe, you've made a habit of getting your morning coffee from the 24/7 gas station you frequent on your way to the pizzaplex whenever you have an early morning or super late night shift.

This night, however, you forgot.

You got your gas, even got a snack to munch on in the way out after saying hello to the gas station bot, and got all the way to the pizzaplex parking lot and unbuckling seatbelt before realizing you forgot the most important part of your day: the caffine you needed in order to get through the shift.

Well, you'll just have to go without.

And it sucks.

You're tired, a headache is on it's way, your eyes feel droopy. Monty says something in passing about how you're slower than usual, and even Freddy makes an awkward, concerned observation about how sluggish you seem to be and even offers his sofa to you for a nap. You politely decline, of course. The task list isn't going to complete itself.

Moon is, as expected, rather excited that you walk around work with slow movement like easy prey. So that's why you turn the lights on in the kitchen area as you're mopping so he can't make a sudden grab for you in here.

Said animatronic sits at the doorway, where the light and the dark between the kitchen and the adjacent room meet. It blurs over his pants, the contrast making white pupils against black eyes stand out further in the dark. A bit of a danger sign you've started to recognize, but you're basked in the light (as much as it hurts your eyes) and keep a flashlight on you at all times for a reason.

His head spins at a slow speed the entire time you're mopping, watching you with rampant attention. "You're tired." He says, and you audibly sigh. "Come here. Come to sleep."

You resist the urge to lean on the mop, turning to stare at him with dark circled eyes. "That is like the fifth time you've said that to me within the hour."

"You should take a nap." He ignores your statement, default wide smile on his face. Sitting criss-crossed on the ground, his fingers pluck at the carpet in mindless behavior, threatening to pull it up like grass. He sways a little when he talks. "Then I'll stop saying it."

Dramatically, and on purpose, you groan into the air of the kitchen loud enough that your voice echoes off the walls. "Great. Not only am I exhausted-" Your words make something in the animatronic tick, the sound of claws getting hooked into the carpet, the click of his head turn stopping at an angle. "-but I'm also getting harrassed by my coworker. I do not have the energy for this."

"Whiney baby." Moon chuckles, voice low and quick at the end. "I can fix that."

You don't even look at him, continuing to mop what looks like tomato paste stained on the floor. "I can complain as much as I want."

"Moody." He comments, amused. "Cranky."

Your nose wrinkles up as you finish up, picking up the mop bucket an dumping it into the sink. "Well, yeah I am. I'm dying."

A scoff. "You're not dying."

"I'm totally dying here." Careful not to get mop water on you, you stash the supplies in the corner of the room for the staffbots later, and thumb around for the small flashlight in your pocket. "Totally dying."

As you approuch the doorway, hand hovering over the kitchen's lightswitch to turn it off, Moon's bouncy behavior stills, like a predator getting ready to pounce. "I can fix that. Come here."

You flick on the flashlight and point it towards his feet, and the reaction is immediate; the animatronic leaps up, hisses in the motion, and practically scuttles on all fours up the wall as you chase him with the light beam. "Yeah, yeah. Go back up into the rafters, Starboy."

[threepandas]

Bird4Bird Part 5: Yandere Hawks

You know, people should be real glad he's such a nice guy. A Hero. Cause it was WAY too easy to get Her files. Tsk, tsk. Such poor security! He's kinda disappointed, honestly. He was sorta expecting a bit of a challenge.

It IS a Goverment building after all.

But maybe it's 'cause she's not a Hero herself. She's a civilian. So they don't care as much. You'd think you'd just get universal security and then lock down the Heroic files, but no. Glorified safes and lock boxes. Clear and traceable holes in all SORTS of bloodlines.

Gee, wonder why Mr. and Mrs. So-n-So have a redacted kid! Bet THEY'RE not related to any Heros! Sure won't be easy to just go to their HOUSE an find their kid's name THERE along with a few hostages!

It's theater. A joke, really. He's kinda GLAD he basically has no family, if THIS is the security they'd get.

Good thing he's removing Her files. They'll be MUCH safer with him~. A few dummy files left in their plaaaace, aaaand... back out through the blind spots in the camera coverage! Honestly, he's done harder exercises with his feathers literally concussed.

Ooooh~☆ Like that one. And that one~!

He keeps flipping through his social feeds. Might as WELL multi-task. Selfie with the skyline~♡! Aaaand upload. There we go, that's his #Aesthetic post of the day. Now PR will have nothing to complain about. Hmmmm, should like a few memes. Don't comment on THAT scandal. Joke about THAT one. Post a thirst trap modeling pic... aaaand...

He feels his feathers escape the building. Finally! It was his last hit of the night. File finally in hand, he lazily rolls to his feet, stretchs. Tucks the file away but not his phone. Then let's himself drop forward into open air. Let's his wings CATCH.

The magnificent slide of cool air against his feathers, the resistance of wind against his wings. He soars and for a moment... let's himself feeling nothing else. It is perfect.

It always is.

First things first, dropping of the files. Gotta keep them safe after all. Then... then he SHOULD be going to bed. Heck, if he doesn't feel like going alone, it's not like he doesn't have OPTIONS. He honestly has too many. But even then, the thought of it's exhausting...

They want The Mask. And yeah, sometimes it's FUN being the mask. Good for PR. Adds to his good reputation when they inevitably talk.

And they always DO talk.

They spread the word exactly as he expects them too. Dispite swearing, to the last, not to breathe a word. The picture of discretion, they PROMISE, Hawks~♡! Ha. 'Course they are. Pretty, chatty, birds. Picked for their scandal free backgrounds, photo ready faces, and hero positive attitudes.

He gets a LIST for every event he goes too. Has several, ranging from "approved in general" to "by region". Really... the height of romance, his meet-cutes. Picture perfect down to the last detail.

You'd almost thing a team of handlers PLANNED them for him.

Not to say the sex isn't great. Sex is always nice! Just... not when you're not in the mood for something REAL, ya know? When you want to get... get MESSY.

Hunt someone. See those eyes dilate, utterly AWARE and focused completely on HIM. That moment of indecision. Stay and fight? Run? Watching the scales tip and clatter in ruin to the floor. Run. Let um get a head start. RUN. Want to see those Big BEAUTIFUL Wings snap out to their full width, massive and powerful, and RIP through the air as they fling her into the sky. RUN!!!

Run away, lil predator. He's coming to CATCH you~

God, she'd be so POWERFUL in the air. So DANGEROUS. Eating up the distance like she actually stood a CHANCE. Those wings, so far from fragile its laughable. But... oh. Oh, he's FASTER. So, so much faster. Agile in a way her raw power robs her off.

She would never be able to fight him off. Would have NO chance to truely escape.

And then?

Then it's a matter of stamina. Training. And only ONE of them's a Hero~

He'd harry her. Feathers flying from ever angle, deadly sharp and far too close. Better dodge! Use your quirk! Oh DEAR, uses stamina as a fuel source does it? Hope you have ENOUGH~!

Little cuts. Kicks here and there. Pushing her lower~ Pushing her lower~ Watch out for that building! Uh oh! Powerlines! Large wingspan is a benefit in open air~ but it works against you heeeeereeeee~! Better LAND, lil harpy!

Before he knocks you from the SKY.

And he WOULD. God, it would be AMAZING. If he got her at just the right angle? He could kick her into a building, a tree, SOMETHING. Or maybe as she goes to flap? He could trap a wing. She'd DROP.

Wrap her torso in enough feathers to pin it. Slow her fall juuuust enough to really hurt, but keep her from hitting wrong. Ah~ bet she'd SCREECH. Struggle and lash like a cornered animal. Wing slamming the dirt helplessly, flapping uselessly, as she tries SO hard to get free... heart pounding, legs kicking, adrenaline surging through her veins~

He Wins, lil fighter~ now he gets his prize~♡

Ah, he bets you'd BITE. If the HPSC wouldn't kill him for it, he'd probably LET you. Let you scar him up in your rage. Leave your mark. You'd be so PISSED at losing. So nervous. And he can get that, vulnerability is a lot. Big, strong, walls all crumbling down? It'd feel like raw nerves. Being SEEN.

And he'd SEE her alright.

Even if she managed to avoid it. Managed to land, run, get herself nice and lost. He'd chase her down. Wear her down. Til the anger has no more fuel to burn. The threats have no more strength. Make her run and fight and run and climb and RUN... until her body just? Can't any more.

All struggled out~

Nothing but muscles shaking and bruises, feather cuts and the sweat that burns them. Gasping for air that can't seem to come fast enough. She never stood a chance~ But he let her try anyway.

And god. All his senses would be ON FIRE. Practically high on it. He'd be everything he's NOT supposed to be. Every instinct he's supposed to shove down on full glorious display.

He'd feed her till she CHOKES. She wouldn't get a choice. Watch the grease run down her pretty face and neck. Run his fingers through those pretty feathers and feel HIS against her skin. Preening and so, so pretty. All clean~ All those pretty little cuts and poor lil scrapes.

He put his merch on Each And Every One~

Little red feather band-aids all pretty on her skin~♡

His~ Won fair an square. Gotta take care of it. Blood and grease and sweat. Find all the places that make his Harpy bird squirm. But she can't escape. Not ever escape. He won. His, his, his. He'd make those place feel NICE. Watch her as she feels good.

She'd be so tired. So sore. She'd WANT to feel good. Be so tired of fighting and pretending. Hungry. And he'd be so good about how he takes care of her. Cause he's a HERO. Massaging hands and feathers that hold her nice and still. Careful kisses and playful teasing. Then? He'd hold those powerful, exhausted, thighs open and show her what worship feels like.

She'd make SUCH cute noises. He bets he could make her beg. Could probably make her cry.

He's fantasized, before, about not holding back. When some hero chaser is in his bed, with the "real" Hawks. Performing once again, a different facet of the Mask, all the better to pretend he is a Real Boy. Ha! What would be like? To do nothing but feel GOOD? To concentrate on pleasure? The feeling of his body moving?

To GRAB and put his back into it? Knowing damn well he'd leave bruises. Because he's stronger then them. Because his body is a weapon. Because wires in his brain were mixed up long, long ago and nothing can possibly undo it now. Wanting to snarl and shred everything around him as he rams home, deep and good like he's melting.

Wants feathers EVERYWHERE. Under him, against his skin, attached to whomever he's fucking. A God damned NEST. With blankets and feathers and tatami.

Wants to be BONELESS for how hard he fucked. How much effort it took. A marathon and a national EVENT. Wants to put on a parade and have a feast and then RUIN all of it. It's like screaming in his head, sometimes. All the instincts he is forced to repress and ignore. They blend together. Violence and hunger and horny and NEEDY AND ANGER AND-!

He lands. Outside her apartment. He's seen rats live in better places. It's an unkind assessment. But he's abruptly feeling kind of... agitated. He really should push her towards a better job. Like working for him. Or living with him. Or being HIS. Maybe both. And he'll need to hunt down a few insurance agents. Have some TALKS.

He slips a few feathers into the building. Her neighbor sleeps with the window cracked. From there? The vents. Gotcha~

The steady sound of breathing. Asleep. The rhythmic pattern... knowing it's from HER... it's...

It's soothing.

He settles back into a watchful crouch. He's still on edge. Hard. But nothing he can't fix. He has a pretty good angle from where he's perched. You forgot to fully close your blinds. And his eye sight is EXCELLENT. You look so relaxed~♡

He feels you breathe. Gently, ever so gently, let's one of his feathers drift forward to land carefully against a cheek. Warm. He can feel your pulse.

He strokes himself franticly. The cold air of night time just adding to the thrill as it teases everywhere his hand is not. His handlers would HATE this. The HPSC would NEVER allow it. He presses his other had to his face, to muffle his voice, as he desperately tries to both buck his hips AND keep his balance. So good. God she looks so VULNERABLE~

He milks the tip. Finally giving in to the urge to BITE his hand, glove leather filling his mouth. The only think keeping him upright on the phone poll he landed on, is the feathers he's grabbed himself with. And even THAT reminds him of his earlier fantasies. He spills, jerking, and raining down on the unsuspecting street below.

Good thing it's so late at night.

His entire body is riding the aftershocks. Sensitive and good. Euphoric. He laughs, wild eyed as he stares down at his hand. How depraved~ His lil hunter is certainly bringing out the worst of him, isn't she? Or maybe it's the best? It's certainly SOMETHING. And god, is it HUNGRY.

He looks back at her sleeping face as he licks his hands clean...

He should do this again~

[afewfantasies]

🏔️The Retreat 🏔️- Chapter I

Prologue | Chapter I | Chapter II | Chapter III | Misc references & details

Summary:  Set after the events of the war Gale and Lorena are recovering from what they thought life would be and their new realities. Gale and Lorena were deeply in love with their respective significant others before the war, they had big dreams and grand plans for their futures together. Only it was not to be. Gale takes to a Lakeside retreat in the mountains away from city life when things with Marge don’t go as planned. After a hard breakup and subsequent divorce from her husband Lorena ends up at Gale’s retreat looking for work and a place to stay. This is an angsty fic that follows the themes of love, loss and recovering from trauma. 

Pairing: Gale Cleven x Lorena (black fem oc)

Warnings:  Race is a factor but there will be no overwhelmingly racist outbursts. It is more so a discovery element and explorations, different worlds, a little forbidden love element.

Chapter I - Retreat

*Three Months After Prologue*

The birds woke before everyone, even the sun on some days. Their cheerful chirping allows Lorena to watch the sun rise over the trees and above the mountain. It was a wonder how one day she was traveling scared, heartbroken and lost, then another she’d found this place. The expansiveness of the wilderness the antithesis of everything she had ever known. There was solace in that fact. She’d driven for days, but something stopped her from taking root in other places. There were little things that reminded her of home, of the loneliness and failure she now found as a single woman in a mans world. Families, children, schools, social settings and society life. It was all too raw still. She had never considered the mountains. Although she had enjoyed hotels and banquet halls in her adolescence, the lakeside retreat was the furthest thing from what she expected. A great stone building with many wings for the kind of people she’d never known in the city. It was the perfect place to get lost in, the great beyond was so expansive sometimes it would be impossible to find people even when you went looking. Showering she refreshes herself for the day applying perfumes and fluffing her hair. The prettier she could make herself the better the tips. Fully dressed and in uniform she heads downstairs to see her landlord and employer Gale Cleven. He sits in the same spot as always a man of routine, holding a coffee in his right hand and the paper in the left. Lorena smiles, in appreciation of her unlikely company. it wasn’t something she was conscious of but his routine and predictability brought her peace after years of uncertainty.

“Good morning” Gale says in his even tone.

“Good morning” Lorena responds.

Gale Cleven was her third stop. Unlike the others he was a soldier and his eyes weren't like a predator looking waiting to pick off easy prey. He was quiet and didn’t ask a lot of questions, seeming to want the same in return. It was a dream to Lorena who didn’t want to talk about the past. Thus far he always paid her fairly, and minded his own business. Where his wife was was the greatest mystery of all. Gale was a handsome man, blonde hair, blue eyes, muscular and rich from his lake house retreat. However, his reputation in town was less favourable. He was regarded as a seriously bitter man, who threatened to shoot trespassers and would employ all measures of diversion to maintain his property and the respect he said it deserved. There were scores of scorned women who’d lost their husbands and thus had been denied the passionate trysts they yearned for when they knocked at Gale’s door. He’d turned away more damsel’s than any other man could. He also seemed completely without vice. He ever smoked, never drank and only cursed on rare occasions. He also didn’t talk much to anyone unless something needed to be said. It had taken Lorena some time to get used to the silence and longer still to decide whether Gale liked her or not.

“You have the day off today” he said interrupting Lorenas first sip of tea. She raises a brow in question. “Bunch of rowdy ones arrived late last night - I don’t want any trouble”  Gale says plainly. In his experience men became worse in the presence of a beautiful woman, worse still when they had strong opinions and she was likely to deny their advances like Lorena. In just shy of three months Lorena had come to know no one was a better judge of character and behaviour than Gale.

“Okay” she nods applying jam to her toast. Unlike most men Gale didn’t have to love her to treat her well. She hadn’t arrived batting her long lashes or with a sob story, just well manicured fingernails that looked like they hadn’t done a days worth of honest work in their lives. He’d met his fare share of women from the city, it always took him no time to pick them out. But it was the pain in her eyes that he recognized first, it was the heartbreak that made him give her the job. Lucky for Lorena, Gale didn’t need to like a person to take care of them, he was a Major after all. The safeguarding of others was his forte.

“You have some mail” Gale mutters standing. He heads to a locked drawer pulling out three unopened letters. One is large, the other are undoubtedly personal letters. Gales eyes are attentive as always. Opening the first two Lorena shakes the letters and out fall two cheques. One from her father and the other from Reggie. Enough for her to survive for the next three months with frivolity and not a day of work.

He didn’t need to ask to know what happened to Lorena, he could see the heartbreak in her pretty brown eyes. Still, he respected his commitment to life more than he pitied the heartbreak that befell her. No matter how she sobbed some nights she always came downstairs ready to work without excuse. She had a thing for doing her hair like the starlets of the time. It was good for business to have someone as pretty as her working at his retreat. Service with a smile and surprisingly good conversation for a woman of her standing. She treated everyone equally well, learning about the local fishing from solo travellers and old men and even offering to be a beautician for women on their honeymoon. Her tips were handsome and Gale knew he’d never have another staff member like her. Even if his generous salary offer had been charity at first; she’d earned it. Clearly without needing to work to earn her stay. But he knew better than the most, the key to not being levelled by heartbreak is to keep busy.

“Your folks still worried?” He asks not wanting a search party at his door.

“My mother and sister want me home so I can be remarried” Lorena responds with a bitter smile after briefly looking over the letter.

“Is that such a bad idea?” Gale asks.

Lorena scoffs shaking her head at Gale as she folds the cheques putting them into her breast pocket. “It’s a terrible idea” she responds with folded arms. Her offence is clear.

“I didn’t mean to pry” he says meeting her scowl with surrender. He’d been fearless during the war but something about an angry woman always took him back. It was the only kind of battle he wished to retreat from.

“No you’re just trying to get rid of me” Lorena snaps throwing an accusatory gaze at him. He’d never met a women who could switch from sweet to fierce so quickly.

“I’m not gonna carry on with you Lorena” he warns putting some bass in his voice not wanting an argument. He takes a quick sip of his coffee before putting on his jacket and leaving the house to head into the main lodge. Signing deeply Lorena looks to the large envelope and tears it open to view the finalized divorce decree. Silent tears roll down her eyes. Heading upstairs she takes the safe she’d purchases and places the cheques and letters inside it with all the others. Sobbing silently Lorena loses track of time wallowing in self pity until she hears hooting and hollering from the unruly guests. Sitting in the bay window she watches them scamper around the grounds drunk already before they strip down and head into the lake.

She spends the day writing replies to letters from the past month to each of her parents, her older sister and finally the first since she’s left to Reggie. Looking down at the men returning before dusk she considers a dalliance with one of the young men. It’s been too long since she’s given into the needs of the flesh. So long since shed been desired, since she felt truly desirable, since she’d been held. Since she’d awaken to a strong warm body beside her. Even if it was only for a night perhaps it could do well to quell the loneliness. Twisting her wedding band around her finger, her commitment to Reggie is still too strong. He was who she had wanted then. No one but Reggie would do then and still now. Everyone always told her she was beautiful, men gave her longing looks since she’d began to mature but the words had been empty until Reggie gave them new life and meaning. She wanted to be all the things her friends wanted to be for their beaux’s for him and she was. No preparation was too slight for him to notice, even the change of rouge he saw and complimented. Reggie held his head high as they walked the town together. Everyone could tell it was real and everyone wanted what they had. The feeling was second to none and Lorena had wanted it for everyone too. If it hadn’t been so real perhaps she could go along with an advantageous marriage with an old man. If it wasn’t so real maybe she could stomach moving forward, moving on. If it wasn’t so real maybe she wouldn’t be thousands of miles away crying in her bedroom housed with a stranger.

Giving her wedding band a final twist she removes it placing it into the safe. Maybe the gold would be worth something some day if she fell on hard times. Wiping her tears she gets a tissue blowing her nose. She begins folding the paper placing them in envelopes and lighting candles as the last of the suns embers cast a fading glow on her bedroom. Another day wasted to tears. Putting on the record player only enhances her somber mood she sits folded in her chair with the curtains closed staring into space.

Gale holds the tray as he heads upstairs with hot food. He knocks twice with his elbow hearing the record playing. He’d left men alone all day only to find them no longer living. He’d lost his last man to sadness during the war. With no response he pushes the door open finding Lorena seated at her desk with teary eyes. There’s no judgement in his, he’d been where she was before. He swallows hard placing the tray down in front of her.

“You need to eat something” he says collecting the letters on the table in frnt of her.

Getting a whiff of dinner Lorena smiles wiping her eyes, “Kurt made me Italian style pasta?” She asks.

“Rose stopped by and made it” Gale responds uncovering the pasta dish.

Rose, the mother of his bartender an older woman with a sweet but no nonsense disposition is who he called when he deemed having Lorena working the lodge too much of a headache to him and the others who’d grown protective over the woman.

“She still here?” Lorena asks.

“No, it’s late.” Gale responds.

“Please give her my full days pay” Lorena says taking the fork up.

“I will” Gale responds watching her take a bite. “Do you need me to have these mailed?” He asks looking at the letters on her desk.

“Yes please” she sniffles. He notices the absence of her wedding band on her left hand and puts the letters in his back pocket. He steps back ready to leave without a goodbye. “Gale?” She calls.

“Yes?” He stops turning to face her, no judgement in his eyes.

“It’s just the war right? There’s nothing wrong with me? The war changes people right?” She asks breaking down again. Sighing he closes the distance between them pulling Lorena into an embrace. He’d held countless men during the war, broken men in their last moments wailing as he promised them it would be okay with a terrible pit in his stomach. This was somehow harder holding a woman who was not his and was in his care. Her ex-husband an enemy he couldn’t commit to killing for his slights because they’d fought on the same side of the war. Her sobs soak through his shirt and he strokes her hair whispering assurances to her. Lorena had never been prone to hysteria or sorrow. Her parents had raised her better than that. She was a woman of composure. She’d left her marriage without grandiose demonstrations of emotion and yet somehow with Gale she felt safe. In the mountains, in the middle of nowhere, without friends and slow to making conversations; Gale was as good as it gets for a secret keeper.

“Nothings wrong with you. It’s just the war doll, just the war” he repeats in affirmation. Only the war could make a man crazy enough to leave a good woman like Lorena.

_________

Authors Note:

Thanks for reading lovlies, the second chapter should be out soon. Don't forget to like and comment if you'd like me to continue with this story. 😊😘

[suzyandthefox]

Ladybug

I wrote this uninspired and it somehow became my longest vore fic ever

This was out of my comfort zone, I was inspired by @imafayliure 's post

Content warnings: Gore (not too much) ,animal death, Vore (duh), general angst and misunderstanding (they end on a good note), an insult in Spanish.

Soft,safe, quarter size(?) m/m vore, unwilling prey and not very sober pred.

Taglist: @pineappleparfaitie @opikarts (interact if you want to be added, Ask if you want to be removed)

Word count: 3,500

Lumen hated going outside, especially since he and his brother moved to this cabin, which was built next to a large pond.

It was humid, it was wet, it was full of pesky creatures that weren't edible -like mosquitoes-, and the constant noises of wildlife was driving him crazy.

Yes,there was fish to hunt, and other crustaceans, but he needed something that had blood in it.

Being a vampire borrower is a complicated state of life.

One night, he was dizzy with hunger, he had to find something to eat, something alive and pulsing and filled with blood…

His gray eyes fell on something small,round, and red. It hid in the tall grass that surrounded the pond, the bright red color would be a warning for predators to not come near.

Not for Lumen, it compelled him to get closer.

============

Bunyan curled around himself in fear as he tried to control his sobs, he shouldn't have come here at all,he shouldn't have!

Already being at the miniscule height of one inch tall was horrifying, even his wings and their bright red color didn't stop every creature out there from trying to eat him.

And there it was, another one of them, it was big and skinny and… human shaped? But also not a human?

Bunyan was filled with both curiosity and fear, he stood up in a defensive stance, flashing his red wings once again.

“Stay back! Or… or I will give you a bad time!!”

Instead, the being only got closer, its silhouette now illuminated under the moonlight.

It was slender,tall,draped in dark rags and wrapped it's face in old white cloths, and it reminded him of a… Raven.

It had caused him even more fear, this strange creature was a predator wearing the skin of a friend, it looked humanoid but it was far from that.

“Now now, little one, easy there, no need to be spicy.” Then it spoke, Bunyan shivered, its voice was rough and deep… 

And human? There was something nice about it, it sounded sincere even.

“F…Fine! But I remind you that I'm NOT edible!” Still in his defensive stance, Bunyan warned.

“Indeed you aren't, you're too spicy!” The being joked half heartedly, it sounded tired as well.

“Who are you? What are you?” Bunyan tilted his head as he lowered his guard, his wings stopped fluttering and returned to their place on his back.

“Lumen, you can call me Lumen…”

“And… Honestly I don't know, I used to be a borrower, but now I'm unsure.”

“But what about you? You're awfully way too small to be a borrower, what are you?”

Lumen walked closer to the tiny ladybug boy, almost wholly engulfing him in his shadow.

Even as they're both small beings in this big world, the sheer size difference between him and the boy was still shocking.

He could easily pick up the boy with both of his hands, just like how a human would pick up a cat, after all,the kid was the size of a newborn baby.

“I'm a borrower… at least I think I am, I never saw much outside my colony.”

“First time alone?” Lumen knelt on one knee to lessen the height difference between them.

“Yes actually, I'm supposed to look for a place to stay, so I can live on my own this winter.” The boy still maintained his distance between him and the larger, much more intimidating borrower.

“Live on your own_there’s no way you're an adult.” The vampire borrower murmured, a look of great concern drawn on his eyes, even as his face wasn't visible underneath the cloth.

Maybe it was just his fatherly instincts, but he was unable to perceive the ladybug kid as anything other than, well, a kid.

“I forgot to introduce myself, I'm Bunyan!” The boy gingerly extended his hand to handshake, now that he was partially sure that the man was a fellow borrower.

Bunyan, even his name is adorable.

Lumen was starting to believe he stumbled upon a character from a children's book and not a real person , let alone a full grown adult.

The beast crept up on him and kept whispering in his ears, he was getting hungrier by the moment and he was barely keeping himself in check.

He was starving,he was yearning for the taste of fresh,hot blood going down his throat, but the only living Infront of him was…

No,NO, he shook his head and tried to get rid of the idea, this is a friend,a friend.

“Are you okay?” Bunyan asked with confusion.

“I'm alright kid, just… Hungry.”

Bunyan instinctively took a step back, he still didn't like how the bigger borrower looked like a carnivorous animal.

Yes he hunts and eats aphids for a living, but it wasn't the same, the bigger borrower had sharp fangs, it was as if he eats people alive.

Before Bunyan could talk, a loud noise of something slimy and big hit the ground.

A dreaded noise echoed in the air around them.

Croak

A toad, it was a toad.

Instinctively, Lumen grabbed the tiny boy and picked him up, and bolted out of the scene to the tall grass again before the sudden attack of the tongue has touched them.

It was bigger and stouter than most toads both of them had seen.

For Lumen, he could fight that thing with his bare hands and win, the amphibian wouldn't be interested in him due to his big size after all.

But it was poor Bunyan who would be devoured as soon as that toad looks at him.

He whimpered at the thought of being eaten, shaking heavily, oh how glad he was that there was a bigger borrower right here that can protect him.

He found himself tugging at Lumen's shirt, his breaths bated and shallow, his small body wouldn't stop shaking.

Lumen noticed the thin sheen of a foul smelling liquid on the boy’s arms and legs, wetting his clothes.

His sense of smell wasn't working the way it should work due to him being unable to breathe, so it wasn't the smell that disturbed him.

Still he found it… weird, he preferred not to comment on the matter.

“It's a defense mechanism,I swear! O-our bodies secrete a liquid from our joints so that when a predator smells us, they will leave us alone.” The boy blushed and squirmed as he tried to explain.

Well , that makes it better, but the sensation wasn't the best

regardless.

He could still hear the croaks nearby, as if the toad was still determining where they are, and as he got more stressed, he wrapped his black coat around both himself and Bunyan, as if to hide the boy within him.

“You could do exactly that” his inner beast whispered to him, again he shook his head in refusal.

“Think about it, the boy is very small, and you, you're bigger, you're easily capable of hiding him… In you.”

“If anything has to eat the boy, it should be you.”

“Just for a while, just a few, harmless minutes, to satiate us both.”

But isn't he too… big? Lumen peeked once at the boy in his arms and his heart shattered into millions of pieces.

Big, frightful, wide eyes looked at him, practically begging him to protect the boy. He was so small, that the task was easier and harder at the same time.

Physically he can go with it, out of his comfort zone but he can go with it.

Emotionally however? He will never fully recover from it and neither will the boy.

He wanted to think about this again but the loud noise of the toad landing In front of them, and the beast coiling around his throat like a vile snake, he let go of all his humanity at that moment.

“I apologize so much for this, but it's for your own good,” was the last thing he said before he had let himself break loose.

Bunyan, at first, was very confused at Lumen's words.

But it was when the larger borrower opened his maw and a series of sharp, large fangs glinted underneath the moonlight that the boy’s heart dropped.

This isn't happening, this isn't happening, he surely hoped with every molecule of his body that what he thought was happening wasn't happening.

But it was when his head was stuck into the jaws, his antennas brushing with the back of the throat, that he knew that the nightmare was real.

For Lumen, perhaps it was the beast’s control, perhaps it was his hunger, or perhaps it was even an ability he knew nothing about,but he found the task of swallowing the smaller borrower whole frighteningly easy.

It was second nature even, his throat accommodated the size, then he found himself taking a hefty gulp, his body eagerly accepting of the large meal.

Still it was different, it was strange, it was something he hadn't done before, combined with the stressful atmosphere and the time they had, it was a quick but very messy process.

He was grateful that he wasn't breathing at that moment and that he didn't need to, he would’ve absolutely choked if he did.

It was strange how he was still able to gobble up the kid despite his current state not accepting anything besides blood, but then again, the boy did have blood in him, and something about that truly satiated the beast, it was still appealing to the vampire side of him.

A second swallow, and despite the squirms, the sobs, and the absolutely foul,bitter taste that filled his mouth he continued, pushing the tiny legs into his mouth with his hand.

Finally he got to a point where he no longer needed to shove the ladybug down, and he could let gravity do the rest of the work.

Bunyan's sobs and begs echoed through him and reached his ears, muffled by his undead flesh, but at that moment he couldn't hear them, the frenzy far too strong.

Rippling muscles and hungry organs hugged the boy and pulled him deeper into the belly of the beast, soon Bunyan, who already gave up all hope, would be welcomed by the stomach.

Lumen felt a distinct weight fill him and push against his clothes, he put his hand on the small lump that formed, and he pushed it into himself, as if trying to hide the boy deeper inside his guts.

And it was also a hug, a strange, awkward hug.

Something about this whole ordeal made the beast rumble in excitement, this was good, this was right, to have live, squirming prey inside his belly.

Even if he physically couldn't digest it, it was far better and far more satisfying than eating regular food, it was no different from having the greatest thanksgiving feast and eating until you can't eat anymore.

But unfortunately he couldn't enjoy this for too long, the human part in him was tearing itself apart from guilt, and there's another predator right there that looked completely pissed at the fact it's snack was stolen.

The weight in his stomach disoriented him, and while his frenzied state was an excellent hunter, he was still worried about harming the boy.

He stood up and stared into the toad's eyes, who squinted at him and narrowed its eyes as well.

“You wanted that snack, Aye?”

“Well he's mine now… Pinche Pendejo” He said as he put a possessive hand over his stomach.

As if the toad understood the insult, it launched its tongue at Lumen, determined to make the large borrower its snack.

But instead of hopping away,the vampire borrower took it as a chance, as soon as the slimy tongue pulled him close, he swiftly stuck his claws deep into the thick skin of the toad’s sides, and toppled it on its back, wrestling with it.

He pinned the creature to the ground, exposing it's soft underbelly, it was almost impossible to keep a good grip on the slimy creature, but all it took was one quick swipe from his claws to gore the toad and tear it's stomach open, finally killing it.

As soon as the deed was done, he felt the beast release him from his current state, satisfied with the violence it caused.

And the only thing left was the terrible, terrible guilt and regret, as he was able to hear the faint,weak sobs the poor boy made.

They were inaudible now, and Lumen was unsure if he was asleep or waiting for his death.

He was going to let him out of course, but he took a moment to… Understand what is exactly happening.

He was a cold,undead being, with no warmth of his own and no pulse.

But inside his stomach was a living person, with a fluttering pulse and warmth that radiated from him and seeped into Lumen's own bones and body.

He rubbed at his full stomach, feeling the dread that will come from having to explain his intentions to the poor thing.

He couldn't keep him for longer, even if he wanted to, and this whole thing has made him ask himself, was the act of swallowing Bunyan whole the right choice?

He thought, and realized that no, it wasn't.

It would have been easier if he just asked Bunyan to hide in the grass or behind a rock, and even if Bunyan got swallowed by the toad he could’ve gutted it just like he did now.

He realized that he was protecting Bunyan from himself, rather than the toad, the choice he made at that moment wasn't his own choice.

And so he decided to not let the torture go on any longer and let the ladybug boy out to the world again.

It was a tedious process, having to work his body in reverse,the muscles of his stomach kneading around his poor prisoner, and working him upwards, the small lump in his abdomen gradually shrunk as the weight inside it was lifted to his esophagus instead.

Then into his hands the boy was released, wet and covered in saliva and other fluids he had no idea what they were.

He didn't have a great understanding of anatomy, not even his own.

The look that the boy had on him was nothing short of seething hatred, and it was understandable, it was truly understandable.

“Are you alrig_”

“Why?” Bunyan's voice was quiet, tired, but it still burned.

The vampire stayed quiet, every single explanation and excuse he thought of… They were all selfish, none of them were actually in Bunyan's favor.

The wet ladybug boy looked next to him to see a mauled toad, its guts spilling on the ground.

“So it was true, you're really a monster pretending to be a borrower.” He quietly commented.

It was that moment where it finally sank in Lumen’s mind that Bunyan was an adult, a child wouldn't hate him that much, it would be afraid, but not vengeful.

He, again, tried to think of anything to say.

“I was trying to help,” was all he was able to get out.

“You're no better than that toad… But at least a toad is upfront about what it wants! Not attempting to be my friend, only to decide to eat me later!”

Bunyan had nothing but his words, he couldn't do anything, his weakness against the vampire that swallowed him whole with ease was a horrible thing, even right now, when the vampire has let him out, he wouldn't put him on the ground.

He tried to stay strong, but the nightmare that was being eaten alive broke his wavering courage, he didn't want to cry again.

“Bunyan… I'm sorry, I swear, I wasn't going to hurt you, you were going to be safe,” his name came out like a crude mockery of a friendship from the vampire’s mouth.

“Sure! Keeping me safe by eating me alive!”

“Please just… Stop, put me down.” The attempts at consolation were almost just as bad as the experience of being eaten.

And he was put down on the dewy grass, shivering slightly as the breeze hit him.

“I was going to tell the colony about you, they would've known how to deal with something like… you,” 

“But I don't want anyone I care about to go through what I went through, so consider yourself lucky.”

Lumen noticed the lack of usage of his name, it meant that whatever frail bond they created was severed forever.

Bunyan flapped his wings, and they didn't work, they were incapacitated by the saliva.

He sat down on the ground, barely holding back tears, and that's when something like a large blanket wrapped him, drying him up.

He looked upwards to find that the vampire, who had just eaten him alive, had wrapped him in his coat, but he was nowhere to be seen.

And so was the mauled toad.

=========

It's been a few minutes, Bunyan fell asleep and woke up several times.

A realization hit him, he missed being in that borrower’s stomach.

It was soft, so very soft, and it was gently hugging him through the whole fight. It wasn't the warmest, but that's good, he preferred the lukewarmness.

No! This isn't rational! He shouldn't be missing it! He was eaten alive!

But maybe the larger borrower was sincere about his intentions, and it's not like he was digested, he was just sleepy.

Hypothetically, if he knew it was safe, he would've asked to stay for the rest of the night, he was very tired,and scared.

He jolted as he felt a large hand on his shoulder.

“Better now?” It was the larger borrower’s voice.

“I thought you were gone?” He asked.

Lumen shook his head

“I thought you wanted some time by yourself, especially after… everything.”

“Thank you...I have come to terms with it.” It was very considerate on the other borrower’s part,he had to admit it, even if he very much still didn't come to terms with it.

“You never explained how it was safe for me to be there.”

“Right…”

There was a moment of silence, before Lumen began slowly and patiently explaining:

“Like I told you earlier, I was a borrower before.” He flinched as he remembered.

“But then I died.”

Died? 

“Some monster killed me, but it didn't just leave me to die, it fed me its foul blood and told me that I belong to it.”

“That… was two centuries ago.”

Centuries?! Bunyan was shocked, the longest anyone of his colony lived was three years, and he didn't even have his first birthday yet!

The concept was far too much to grasp for the boy, the fact that this borrower lived in the same time as his ancient ancestors was headache inducing.

“Anyway, since I am technically dead, that means I can “live” without breathing or eating, but I have to occasionally drink blood instead.”

“Like a mosquito?”

“Kinda, what I'm trying to get at is, my organs are vestigial, useless, you could take my brain away and I would still go on with my undeath.”

“By extension, my stomach is useless for its purpose, it can't digest anything, so I instead store the important things in it if I can.”

He put a hand on Bunyan's head and gently patted him.

“Today I learned that I can store the important people too.”

Bunyan's pale cheeks flushed a bright red, but he just tried to ignore it.

“I'm sorry for all the rude things I said earlier… You aren't a monster, you're just… different.”

“Don't be,I shouldn't have done it in the first place, you were rightfully angry at me, I know I would be pissed too if some big lug snatched me off the ground and gobbled me up without a good warning.”

They shared a dry laugh, and Bunyan tried to flap his wings again, they were drier now, thanks to the large coat he was huddling himself in.

“Look at you, swaddled in my coat like a baby, I almost want to eat you up again.” 

Bunyan didn't find it as funny, he furrowed his eyebrows.

He took a look at the undead borrower, without his coat, his skeletal frame was apparent,his shirt was hanging on his body rather than being on it, and for a moment he wondered how in the world did this skinny frame wholly contain him with ease.

“It was very scary, you know.”

“But it was also… nice, and now that I think about it, you did try to tell me it was alright.”

“So… Thank you again, for everything,” The boy smiled “I'm glad to meet you, Lumen.”

“I'm glad to meet you as well, I will be sure to visit during winter.”

With that, Bunyan handed the large , now wet coat to it's owner, and got up to stretch all four of his arms.

“Stay safe, Boy!” Lumen waved goodbye to Bunyan.

“You too!” The boy waved back.

Both went their separate ways, even as Lumen felt a desperate need to follow the kid until he was safe.

He had so much to tell his brother that night.

[winxanity-ii]

BITE ME

ship: omega!midoriya x fem!alpha!reader warnings: non-explicit (idk y'all i made it kinda angsty 😩) word count: 4.6k a/n: Y'all forgive me, I wanted to be mean to deku🫣 also, inspired by one of my fav bloggers @yanderenightmare AMAZING Alpha!Katsuki x Omega!Reader oneshot here. Plz check it out, y'all it's so well written i wanna snort it like coke 😩❤️❤️

★·.·´🇲‌🇾‌ 🇭‌🇪‌🇷‌🇴‌ 🇦‌🇨‌🇦‌🇩‌🇪‌🇲‌🇮‌🇦‌/🇧‌🇳‌🇭‌🇦‌/🇲‌🇭‌🇦‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

You've always known you were destined for greatness, coming from a long line of superhero alphas whose feats were the stuff of legend.

From the moment you could understand the world around you, your ears were filled with tales of valor and strength, stories of how your ancestors used their formidable quirks to save lives and maintain peace.

It was no surprise, then, that on your 5th birthday, amidst the excitement and anticipation, your own quirk manifested, revealing an ability to manipulate plants, control their growth at will, and harness their natural forces.

This power was not just an extension of your being; it was a testament to the lineage you hailed from, a legacy you were born to continue.

With each passing year, your pride swelled. It became not just a part of you but defined you.

By the time you presented as an alpha on your 15th birthday, you were fully entrenched in the belief system that had been passed down through generations.

The world, as you saw it, was divided among Alphas, Betas, and Omegas, with Alphas reigning supreme. To you, it was the natural order of things, a hierarchy that had always been and would always be.

High school became your kingdom, the sprawling hallways your dominion. You moved through the throngs of students like a predator, your Beta lackeys trailing behind, hanging onto your every word as if it were law.

They craved your approval, your attention, and you thrived on it—each detention, each act of rebellion, a badge of honor that solidified your place at the top.

Today was no different. You were walking down the crowded corridor, the noise of chattering students filling the air, when you spotted her: Uraraka Ochaco, the timid omega who somehow always managed to catch your eye in the most irritating way. She was clutching her books to her chest like a lifeline, her head down as she tried to navigate the packed hallway, avoiding everyone's gaze.

A wicked smirk twisted your lips.

She looked like a deer caught in headlights, so utterly out of place among the alphas and betas that dominated the school. It was almost too easy. You cut through the crowd with a predatory grace, your lackeys snickering behind you as you made a beeline for her.

"Hey, Ochaco," you hissed, her name rolling off your tongue with a predatory sneer. The way her head snapped up, eyes wide and frightened, was almost laughable.

As you backed her into a corner, the crowd seeming to instinctively part around you as if sensing the brewing confrontation.

She tried to shrink away, her shoulders hunched as her back pressed against the wall, eyes darting around for an escape. "H-Hi, L/N-san," she stammered, her voice barely a whisper, like she was afraid even to speak.

"Oh, come on, you don't need to be so formal with me, Ochaco," you drawled mockingly, your voice dripping with false sweetness. You leaned in closer, your hand darting out to knock the books from her grip. They hit the ground with a dull thud, scattering papers everywhere. "We're just friends, right?"

The hallway was slowly emptying out as students hurried to lunch, not wanting to be caught in the crossfire. Your smirk widened as you took in her panicked expression.

It was just the two of you now, your lackeys standing a little way off, watching with cruel interest. And the sight of her, so vulnerable and afraid, only spurred you on.

"Oops, my bad~" you sung insincerely, leaning down to pick up one of her books only to toss it further down the hallway, your eyes never leaving her face. "You know, Ochaco, you're always so clumsy. It's almost like you don't belong here." The casual malice in your voice made her flinch, her hands trembling as she tried to gather her scattered belongings.

You stepped closer, invading her personal space, towering over her as you tapped her forehead lightly with your index finger. "You're an Omega, Ochaco. Do you know what that means?" you asked, your voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "It means you're nothing. Worthless. A waste of space among us Alphas."

Your lackeys laughed at your words, one of them chiming in, "And useless—don't forget how dumb they are without us! She couldn't even answer a simple question in class."

"Yeah, how embarrassing," you added with a cruel smile, your canines flashing in a display of undisputed dominance. The predatory glint in your eyes mirrored the sharpness of your words, each syllable aimed to wound. "Almost like your tiny Omega brain can't keep up with us, huh?"

She winced, her eyes welling up with unshed tears, but she bit her lip, trying to keep them from falling. You clicked your tongue in mock sympathy, reaching out to flick her cheek lightly, as if scolding a child. "There, there, there. No need to cry. It's just reality. You're here for nothing but our will and pleasure, and that's okay."

The sharp intake of her breath was satisfying, and you couldn't help but let out a soft laugh. "Always stumbling over your own feet, aren't you, Ochaco? It's like watching a toddler try to walk." You reached out again, this time brushing a stray tear from her cheek with the back of your hand. "Remember last time? When you actually tried to stand up for yourself? That was cute. Hilarious, but cute."

"Y-You're so mean to m-me, Y-Y/N-chan," she hiccuped, her voice quivering like a delicate leaf in the wind, pressing herself further into the wall as if it could shield her from your words. You could see the tears brimming in her wide brown eyes now, her lower lip trembling as she struggled to hold back the sobs threatening to escape.

The sight only made you feel more powerful, more in control. "Ah, will you ever get it? You're pathetic," you sneered, your voice low and harsh. "All you're good for is—"

"Hey!"

The sudden, sharp voice cut through the air like a whip, and you turned your head, irritation flashing in your eyes. Aizawa Shota stood there, arms crossed over his chest, his usually tired eyes narrowed in disapproval.

Your lackeys, ever the cowards, took a step back, their earlier bravado evaporating under the teacher's stern gaze. They exchanged nervous glances before slinking away, leaving you standing alone. "Tch, pussies," you muttered under your breath, rolling your eyes as they scurried off.

With a heavy sigh, you recognized the end of your entertainment and pushed yourself away from the tearful omega. "Here we go," you muttered with a scowl, bracing yourself for the inevitable lecture, not bothering to hide your annoyance.

Aizawa was an omega, yet despite this, there was an undeniable aura of authority around him, a quiet strength that demanded attention and obedience. As he walked over, his eyes shifted to Ochaco, his expression softening slightly as he took in her tear-streaked face. "Uraraka-chan, are you alright?" he asked, his voice gentle in contrast to the harshness he had directed at you.

She nodded shakily, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, still trembling. "Y-Yes, Aizawa-sensei."

"Good. Get to lunch." He waited until she had gathered her things and fled down the hall before turning his attention back to you.

"And you," he said, his voice hard again, eyes boring into yours with a quiet fury that had your pride roaring in your chest. "Detention," he stated firmly, leaving no room for argument.

Letting out a string of curses under your breath, you storm out of the detention room, the heavy wooden door slamming shut behind you with a thud. The school corridors were mostly deserted now, bathed in the orange glow of the setting sun that filtered through the tall windows.

The detention shtick from Aizawa for bullying didn't faze you in the slightest.

What pissed you off was the inconvenience of missing your scheduled car pick-up, which meant now having to explain to your mother why you were late.

As you texted your driver that you were coming right out, you couldn't help but wonder how Aizawa had managed to catch you in the act.

It was usually an alpha or beta teacher patrolling the halls, and they always let you off with a mere slap on the wrist, dismissing your behavior as "growing hormones" or some other bullshit. But this time was different. This time, Aizawa had seen through you, giving you a proper chewing out.

He'd gone on a long lecture about how unfair it was to use your secondary gender against Ochaco, spouting things like "respect" and "fair treatment" like you gave a damn about his bleeding-heart ideals.

You couldn't help but wonder if someone had tipped him off.

You rounded a corner, still simmering with anger, when a familiar, timid voice caught your attention. "T-Thank you for alerting the staff, once again."

You paused, curiosity piqued, as a deeper, unfamiliar voice replied, "It was no issue, but you need to understand I'm not going to always be around. You have to start standing up for yourself."

Peeking around the corner, you spotted Ochaco standing with a stranger. From your vantage point, you could only see his back and the unmistakable mess of fluffy green hair. Ochaco stuttered out another thank you, giving him a short bow before hurrying away, her footsteps echoing in the quiet hallway.

Hidden from view, your gaze narrowed as the figure turned back to his locker to pack up for the day. The sight of his side profile—soft jawline, focused expression, and completely unaware of your presence—only fueled your anger further.

How dare he interfere and get you in trouble? Who did he think he was?

Seething in silence as you watched him leave, you made a silent vow to remember his face—to exact revenge when the opportunity presented itself.

No one challenged your authority without facing the consequences.

The encounter with the nameless savior did more than just bruise your ego; it sparked a fiery obsession within you. His unassuming demeanor and fluffy green hair, coupled with his audacity to challenge your dominance, marked him as your next target.

In the weeks that followed your initial encounter, your focus on him sharpened to an obsession. Every moment not spent in class or detention was dedicated to gathering information on him. You observed him from a distance, noting his routines, his interactions, and the way he seemed to drift through the school, almost invisible to everyone but you.

It was during lunch one day, as you sat in the crowded cafeteria with your lackeys, that you spotted him again. He was at the other end of the room, sitting alone, his lunch tray untouched in front of him as he pored over a notebook, completely engrossed in whatever he was writing.

The sight of him, isolated yet content in his solitude, piqued your interest even further.

In a moment of passing curiosity, you leaned over to a Beta—Kaminari Denki—sitting next to you, one of the many who sought to curry favor with you. Yyou asked nonchalantly, "Who's that?" nodding subtly in the direction of the green-haired Omega, not wanting to draw too much attention.

Denki’s eyes lit up at the opportunity to provide information, eager to gain your approval. He darted his eyes towards the mentioned male, then back to you, a frown forming on his lips just looking at him alone left a bad taste in his mouth. "That's Midoriya Izuku," he said, his voice laced with a hint of disdain. "He's an Omega, but thinks he's something special. Always going on about being a hero, as if he could ever stand a chance."

Interest piqued, you continued to watch Izuku, your curiosity deepening with the Beta's every word. "He's a target for bullies, especially Bakugo Katsuki. But it's his own fault, always trying to play the hero, sticking his nose where it doesn't belong," Denki added, his frown deepening.

The mention of Katsuki, an alpha known for his volatile temperament, intrigued you further. "Bakugo, huh? you mused more to yourself than to the Beta beside you.

"Yeah, and Midoriya just takes it. Never fights back. Thinks he’s being noble or something," Denki scoffed, shaking his head in disapproval. "It's pathetic, really. He's delusional; he thinks he can actually challenge an Alpha and make a difference."

This newfound information provided by the Beta painted a complex picture of Izuku that was both intriguing and slightly infuriating. Here was an Omega who dared to dream beyond his societal station, exhibiting a resilience and determination that was, in its own way, admirable.

Yet, according to the Beta, his actions were seen as foolish, a futile attempt at heroism.

As you turned your attention back to your meal, your thoughts churned.

Your gaze lingered on Izuku for a few moments longer before you turned back to your meal, your thoughts racing. The more you mulled over the Beta's words, the more your initial intrigue twisted into disdain.

Knowing Izuku was an Omega, the very notion that he dared to challenge the societal hierarchy—and by extension, you—ignited a deeper sense of animosity within you.

How dare he dream beyond his station, and more audaciously, act in ways that subtly defied the unspoken rules that governed your world?

The very idea that Izuku, with his quiet demeanor and lofty aspirations, could consider standing up to the likes of you or even imagine himself as a hero was almost laughable. It was a direct affront to the natural order, to the superiority you had been taught from birth was your birthright as an Alpha.

As lunch continued, you found yourself stealing glances at Izuku, each look fueling your growing resentment. His mere presence, the way he carried himself with a quiet confidence, unaware of or perhaps indifferent to the social turmoil around him, grated on you.

In your world, Omegas were subservient, not silently rebellious or aspirational beyond the roles prescribed to them. Izuku's defiance, however passive, was a blemish on the natural hierarchy you upheld.

You resolved then, with a cold certainty, to put Izuku Midoriya in his place. It wasn't just about reasserting your dominance anymore; it was about reinforcing the very principles that you believed made the world turn.

If Izuku represented a challenge to those principles, then it was your duty, as an Alpha and as a defender of the status quo, to quash that challenge.

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch and pulling you from your reverie. As you stood up, tossing your trash into the bin, your mind was already weaving plans.

Midoriya Izuku, you're gonna learn your place...one way or another.

Finally, you found the right time to confront him. It was a regular day, the sun setting, painting the sky in hues of gold and pink as clubs dispersed for the evening. You had meticulously positioned yourself near Izuku's locker, blending in with the dwindling crowd, waiting for the moment he would come to pack up for home.

Sure enough, as the hallway began to empty, Izuku appeared, his steps quiet and measured. He didn't notice you at first, too focused on gathering his things. But when he turned to leave, that's when you chose to step out from around the corner.

"Midoriya, was it?" you called out, your voice loud enough to cut through the lingering chatter of departing students. You made your way closer to him, your steps deliberate, each one echoing ominously in the almost empty corridor.

Immediately, you sought to intimidate him, a tactic you knew all too well. With a swift movement, you pushed his belongings out of his hands, scattering papers and books across the floor, effectively cornering him further into his locker.

Despite the fact he was taller than you, his slouched frame made him seem as if he was trying to hide away, wanting to be anywhere else but here.

His reaction was exactly what you expected, yet there was a hint of something in his eyes that you couldn't quite place—was it defiance? Courage? Or merely resignation to yet another confrontation?

"It's come to my attention that you've been playing hero again," you began, your tone dripping with mockery, each word designed to belittle. "Standing up for those who can't stand up for themselves?" You drawled the word 'hero' out slowly, inflecting it with scorn, ridiculing the very essence of heroism—a concept you found utterly ridiculous in a world governed by the strict dynamics of Alphas, Betas, and Omegas.

Your smirk widened as you leaned in, eager to see his reaction to the bait you were laying out before him.

"How dare you even think of being a hero and saving others when you can't even save yourself from a simple bully? Balkugo, if I'm not mistaken, yeah?" Your words were calculated, aiming to undermine his sense of self and heroism.

Mentioning Katsuki was a low blow, an attempt to remind Izuku of his vulnerabilities and failures. You observed him closely, looking for any sign of hurt or hesitation, any indication that your words had found their mark.

This seemed to set Izuku off. His usually slouched frame straightened, and he turned around to face you, his expression unreadable. "Everyone deserves someone to stand up for them, no matter their status," Izuku replied, his voice steady and firm, a stark contrast to the mocking tone you had used.

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound echoing off the walls of the nearly empty hallway. "And what about you, Midoriya? Who stands up for you?" You stepped closer, deliberately invading his personal space, aiming to intimidate. "Seems to me like you could use someone to protect you from, well, people like me."

There was a slight narrowing of Izuku's eyes, a subtle but clear indication of his annoyance or perhaps determination. However, his stance remained unchanged, unwavering in the face of your provocation. "I don't need protection. Not from you or anyone else," he declared, his voice carrying a quiet confidence that seemed to fill the space between you.

The boldness of his statement took you by surprise. It was unexpected, coming from someone you perceived to be just another Omega, someone who, by all accounts, should have been easy to dominate and intimidate.

Yet here he was, standing his ground, challenging the very foundations of the hierarchy you had been taught to uphold.

The audacity of his response fueled your anger further. With a swift movement, you pushed him into the locker, nose flaring as you gripped the front of his uniform. "Careful, Omega, you might wanna watch your tone. Because from where I'm standing, you look pretty cornered to me," you purr, your eyes narrowed to slits, expecting him to cower under your grip.

But in a flash, the roles reversed. Izuku's quick movement was wholly unexpected, and before you knew it, you were the one pressed against the wall, his forearm against your chest.

"I'm tired of people like you thinking they're so much better than everyone else because of some perceived status. Power isn't determined by your status. It's how you choose to wield it." Izuku's voice was calm, but there was a sharpness to it that cut through you. "You think you can intimidate and bully others just because you're an Alpha? That's not strength. That's weakness"

Feeling your inner Alpha bristle at this, you prepared to push him off, to reclaim your position. But then, Izuku did something completely unexpected, something that no amount of physical strength could have prepared you for.

He leaned in closer, invading your personal space in a way that was almost confrontational, yet it wasn't his proximity that disarmed you—it was the sudden wave of his Omega pheromones that enveloped you, weaving around you like an invisible force.

The scent was immediate and overwhelming, strikingly fresh and minty with an undeniably “green” essence to it. It was like standing in the heart of a rainforest just after a heavy downpour, surrounded by the lush, vibrant life of countless plants and trees, their leaves heavy with dew.

The smell of early morning grass, wet and alive, filled your nostrils, inexplicably drawing you in, making your mouth water and your gums tingle with a tender sensation as your canines instinctively elongated, reacting to the potent biological cues Izuku's pheromones were sending.

As the scent enveloped you, a warmth unfurled in your lower stomach, a sensation both foreign and intoxicating. It was as if Izuku's pheromones were reaching out, threading through your aggression to soothe and tame it, leaving you feeling unexpectedly vulnerable.

His smirk, slight and knowing, seemed to say he was fully aware of the effect he was having on you, challenging the very notion of Alpha superiority with nothing but his natural Omega essence.

"You know," he began, his voice now, carrying a weight that demanded attention, "I've been watching you. Your arrogance, your belief in your own superiority... it's quite telling."

He took a step closer, his presence enveloping you in a way that felt both intrusive and enlightening. "I've never understood why Alphas like you are so haughty, acting as if they're the epitome of strength and power."

You found yourself unable to move, not just because of the physical barrier he had placed between you and freedom moments ago, but because of the invisible hold his presence now commanded.

Izuku leaned in slightly, his voice a whisper yet loud enough to echo in the now silent hallway, carrying a mix of amusement and a hint of something more profound,. "The truth is, Alphas like you bend to the will of Omegas like me."

Before you could process his words fully, Izuku reached out, his fingers deftly catching a curl of your hair, twirling it gently. The proximity allowed him to lean in close, his nose just inches from the side of your neck, where your scent gland pulsed with a mix of emotions.

The intimacy of the gesture, the invasion of personal space was disarming, and you found yourself frozen, caught in the intensity of the moment.

His eyes, a clear and penetrating gaze, met yours as he pulled back, leaving a trail of confusion and an unexpected desire for more of his insight. "Since you want to have control so bad," Izuku said, his voice lowering, laced with a challenge, "then I'll show you how it feels to lose that control." His eyes flashed the distinctive Omega yellow.

Instinctively, your eyes flashed red in response.

Yet, despite your anger and the primal urge to assert your dominance, Izuku's pheromones had done their work, leaving you momentarily incapacitated, unable to act on your aggression.

Izuku leaned down, his eyes lidding as a wicked smirk grew on his lips. "Oh, what's wrong? Not so big now, huh?" he cooed, running his nose along the slope of your scent glands, an action so intimate and provocative that it sent a shiver down your spine.

His voice, laced with a mocking tone, cut through the haze of pheromones that had clouded your senses, sharpening the humiliation of being so thoroughly outmaneuvered by an Omega.

The proximity, his scent mingling with yours, the heat of his breath against your skin—it was all designed to disorient and dominate, to showcase his control over the situation.

The irony wasn't lost on you; in this moment, Izuku, the supposed weak Omega, held all the power, leaving you, the Alpha, completely at his mercy.

His actions, so bold and unyielding, were unlike anything you had ever experienced. They challenged not just your physical dominance but your very understanding of the dynamics between Alphas and Omegas.

Izuku was rewriting the rules, showing you that the real power lay not in brute strength or societal labels, but in one's ability to influence and control the emotions and actions of others.

Izuku pulls back, the intensity of the moment hanging thick between you. His lips curve into a half-smile, an expression of satisfaction or perhaps amusement at the effect he's had on you. "I kinda like you like this, quiet, pliant," he hums, his gaze leisurely raking over your form. You stand there, panting slightly, a testament to the tumultuous effect his pheromones have had on you.

You hadn't anticipated the power of Izuku's natural essence to impact you so profoundly; it was as if an internal battle was raging within you.

On one side, your Alpha instincts screamed for dominance, to regain control over the situation, to not be swayed by an Omega. Yet, on the other, Izuku's pheromones left you willing.

Izuku hummed to himself again, muttering practically 100 miles an hour, deliberating on what to do next. Finally, after a few moments, his eyes snapped back to you, lips pulling into a wicked smile. "Hm, since you were so willing earlier to protect me from Kaachan, how about you stay true to your words, huh?" he sarcastically asked with a tilt of his head.

Before you could react, Izuku forced your mouth open, tilted your head back, showcasing your elongated canines. It was seconds before you realized what he was doing, but before you could move, he tilted his head further, yanking you to him, making you mark his neck.

The sensation was electrifying, overwhelming every sense you had. Your body acted on its own, instinct taking over as you felt your canines sink into his skin.

The moment was brief, yet it felt like an eternity, marking him in the most primal way an Alpha could claim an Omega.

The rush of emotions and sensations was unlike anything you had experienced before. Heat coursed through your veins, spreading a warmth that felt both comforting and invigorating.

It was as if every fiber of your being was alive, buzzing with an energy that connected you to Izuku in a way words could never explain.

As your teeth punctured his skin, a connection instantly formed between you two, a bond that was both ancient and immediate. It was a tether that pulled you closer to him, not just physically but on a deeper, more instinctual level.

Your protective instincts, which had lain dormant, now surged to the forefront of your mind, chanting a relentless mantra of 'mine, mine, mine, mine.' This wasn't just a physical claim; it was an emotional one, marking him as yours in a way that left no room for doubt.

Your arms subconsciously tugged on Izuku, bringing him even closer, as if trying to merge him into your very essence. You bit down harder, not out of aggression, but to solidify this newfound connection, to make it known to both him and yourself that this bond was irrevocable.

It was a moment of pure primal assertion, your Alpha instincts fully taking over, dictating your actions with an intensity that was almost foreign to you.

As soon as the act was done, Izuku stepped back, a hand gently touching the spot you marked, his eyes gleaming with that Omega yellow. "See, not so good being on the other end, is it?" His voice was laced with a victorious tone, yet there was an undercurrent of something else—something that didn't match the triumphant look in his eyes.

You stood there, shocked, your own eyes still flashing red, a mix of anger and confusion swirling within you.

The implications of what just happened began to dawn on you slowly, the reality that you just marked an Omega—a clear sign of claiming him as yours.

What were you going to do now? The school's dynamics would shift undoubtedly once word got out. Typically, the marking of an Omega by an Alpha was a significant event, often announced and accompanied by a period of courtship, a public declaration of mutual respect and intention.

But this? This was entirely different.

An Alpha marking an Omega out of the blue, especially under such unconventional and unexpected circumstances, was unheard of.

And not just any Omega, but Midoriya Izuku, the one Omega who had stood up to you, challenged you in a way no one else dared.

Your interactions with Izuku had been minimal at best, characterized more by conflict than any form of camaraderie or courtship. The school would be buzzing with rumors and speculation, none of which would likely be favorable or understanding of the situation's complexity.

Izuku adjusted his uniform, the wicked smile never leaving his face. "Well, I guess this changes things, doesn't it? I'm curious to see how you'll handle this." With that, he picked up his things, leaving you alone in the corridor, your mind racing with thoughts.

You were so used to being in control, to having others bend to your will. Yet here you were, outmaneuvered by an Omega who not only challenged you but also forced you into a situation that you never imagined possible.

As you watched Izuku walk away, a part of you knew this was only the beginning. You had to figure out what this meant for you, for him, and for whatever strange, twisted relationship you now found yourselves in.

The school, your friends, your family—they would all have opinions on this, but for now, all you could do was stand there, trying to process the whirlwind of events that just unfolded.

This was not how you expected your day to end, marked by an Omega, your pride wounded, yet a part of you couldn't help but feel intrigued by what Izuku said.

What did this mean for you? And more importantly, how were you going to face him tomorrow?

A/N: omg y'all, i got it bad for izuku, but let me know if you'd like a part 2 👀

[anonymousromanticpoet]

Two Bros Chillin' In a Tent

This is the second chapter! Things get a little more interesting.

Chapter 1: https://www.tumblr.com/anonymousromanticpoet/755905558421307392/two-bros-chillin-in-a-tent

Dropping a line for: @poeticamethyst @godoftalkingcrap

This is Kiaz (Miguel x Robby) Cobra Kai fanfic. Don't like, don't read.

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Chapter 2-Shelter

The first task was finding a campsite. Both boys finally agreed on something: pitching camp near the outhouse was gross, too far away was impractical, and there were decidedly too many bugs on the ground. 

“Okay, so the directions say we need to clear the ground first…Can you help me pick up these branches?” Robby held the comically large paper directions in front of his face, frowning into the wind. 

“Just put it on the ground…the bottom is thick enough anyway,” Miguel shrugged. “It would take all night to clear all of these!”

“But the directions-“

“Give me those!” Miguel grabbed the paper. “Let’s set up over here.”

Robby hated to admit it, but he was right. The spot Miguel had suggested was flatter and already cleared. “Fine..”

The two boys laid the bottom of the tent on the ground, which was simple enough. But, something was off when they were done assembling.

“Miguel the tent looks like something from Dr. Seuss. Is it supposed to lump out on one side like that?” Robby furrowed his eyebrows, poking at the canvas walls. 

“I was in Boy Scouts! I’m sure I did it the way I learned how,” Miguel insisted. 

“Well, at least it’s big enough that we’ll have some space. Remember when we had to share a bed that one time on the way back from Mexico?” Robby thought back to that time, when Miguel had been wrapped around him the next morning, the smell of his sandalwood shampoo in his nose, the feeling of…

“What? No, what happened?” Miguel shrugged. 

“Nothing, you just have no concept of personal space when you’re asleep apparently,” Robby shook himself. Don’t make it weird. Remember, you hate him. Probably. 

The tent collapsed. Great. 

______________________________________________________________

As the sky grew dark and the evening shadows set in, the two teens decided now would be the time to start a fire. Except…

“Seriously? Robby, you were in charge of the fire supplies!” Miguel whined. “I told you like three times, ‘bring the matches, don’t forget the old magazines, and the lighter in case…” 

“Shut up, I’m trying to make this work,” Robby continued rubbing the sticks. 

“Here, let me do it,” Miguel took the branches. 

Neither of them were successful. 

“Not so easy, is it? Mr. Boy Scout,” Robby folded his arms. 

“Great. We’re stuck in the wilderness with no fire. How are we supposed to cook? Or see? Or keep the predators away,” Miguel waved his arms dramatically. 

“I’ll just eat you,” Robby deadpanned. 

“I’ll taste like garbage if you eat me raw,” Miguel quipped, tossing the branches aside. 

“Wait, what’s that?” Robby asked, pointing to a small red shimmer in the dirt. “I think it’s a…hang on a second.”

The light haired boy walked up to the red plastic sticking out of the ground, carefully digging it up. “Miguel, it’s a lighter!”

Robby flicked the wheel carefully, lighting the mound of sticks, “Voila. Still hate me now?”

Miguel smiled in spite of himself, “Marginally less, considering now we won’t starve to death. But don’t think my love is won so easily.” 

Robby raised an eyebrow. “Love?”

“I mean like, bro love. Bromance. My bro. Bruh,”  Miguel coughed. Nice save, Mr. Smooth. Great, now he knows. 

Robby side eyed him, then opened the cooler, pulling out a pack of hotdogs. “Okay, a stick for you, and one for me. It took some convincing, but I managed to get my dad to give us these instead of the Spam he packed earlier.” 

“The use by date was from 1994,” Miguel shuddered.

The two sat in amiable silence, roasting their food and listening to the crackle of the fire. 

Eventually, the dark side of Robby’s brain, the side of him that he never listened to, began to emerge.  The side of him that he buried in front of his dad, the one that got him made fun of in high school, the part of him he never showed, said to him, deep throat the hotdog and see how he reacts. 

Robby slyly put his mouth around the sausage, moving as much of it inside as possible, never breaking eye contact with Miguel.

Miguel’s eyes widened in shock, as he began blushing.  He coughed on a mouthful of chips, then quickly recovered. “So…uh, what should we do next?”

Robby shrugged, trying to act as though nothing had happened. Interesting. “Hmmm…I’m thinking s’mores?”

Chapter 3 here: https://www.tumblr.com/anonymousromanticpoet/759654385228906496/two-bros-chillin-in-a-tent

[lassieposting]

Chinhands

Okay so like, long post incoming, but here me out:

This isn’t my first post on Astarion & CPTSD – there’s this one here, about some of the more obvious symptoms he might end up dealing with during his healing journey; there’s also this one, about some ways his lover might use magic to help support him in a world without therapy; and then there’s this one, which is headcanons rather than meta, but has my thoughts on vampires as camouflage predators, and how Astarion might change physically as he goes from starving to well-fed. Those kinda tie into this so, linked for easy context.

But those posts all focus on the visible aspects of CPTSD – the symptoms everyone around you can pick up on. And. The thing is. A lot of the longterm effects of extensive trauma are actually not outwardly obvious. They're quiet. Insidious. Fundamental facets of your worldview become warped and twisted by your traumatic experiences. You look at the world - or at least, the parts of the world affectd by your trauma - through a goddamn funhouse mirror, and that's your normal. And part of the healing process - I'll pause here for us all to share a collective bitter laugh - is realising just how broken your idea of How The World Works is, and having to relearn from the ground up how things actually function outside of your trauma bubble.

So, y’all know what I think Astarion would struggle with without even realising it?

Disordered eating. A messy, complicated, love-hate relationship with food and how feeding makes him feel about himself.

Like. Most living things are hardwired to avoid certain negative experiences. A creature that has starved will often hoard food to ensure they won’t starve again. A creature that has fallen from a great height and experienced physical pain will be more careful to avoid other falls in future. A social creature that has experienced humiliation or disgrace will be distressed by those feelings, and adjust their behaviour to try and avoid feeling them again. The more bad experiences we have with a specific stimulus – drinking blood, in Astarion's case - the more we associate that stimulus with the negative physical or emotional consequences we will suffer, and the more avoidant we are likely to become.

As a real life example: an autistic child who talks enthusiastically about her special interest and is met with mockery and social rejection by her classmates will learn to hide her authentic self from the world to try and fit in: the pain of the bullying motivates her to distance herself from her own autistic tendencies, which are an essential component of how her brain works. She ends up trapped between her deep desire to engage with her special interest, and the training she has received from her peers that to do so is bad, unacceptable, social suicide. She learns to hate her autistic behaviours for causing her to be bullied, but she still feels the need to engage in them.

Astarion is in the same boat. He craves blood anyway as a vampire, and the hunger is made all the more intense because he is starving. But for the first 200-ish years of his undeath, we know that feeding has been a deeply unpleasant experience for him, and that will have left a deep imprint on how he sees the act of feeding, how it makes him feel. To eat is one of the most basic instincts of every single living (and, in this case, undead) creature, a fundamental source of positive emotions (satisfaction, fullness, satiety, enjoyment, happy taste buds etc) with a massive impact on a creature's quality of life - and Cazador has gleefully warped and twisted the very concept into an attack on his spawns' personhood. He uses it to dehumanize and humiliate them, and that's all they've ever known. So they will have learned to associate feeding with deeply negative emotions - humiliation, shame, disgust, fear and pain. For example:

STARVATION

Astarion tells us that Cazador fed him just barely enough to keep him functioning. Starvation is a trauma that, on its own, is likely to cause disordered coping behaviours in the victim. We actually see some of these in-game:

Astarion keeps a sizeable stash of bottled blood in his tent. This is an example of resource hoarding – he’s afraid of starving again, and he’s stockpiling food as a safeguard.

Individuals who have suffered starvation (or who have been forced to follow a restrictive diet by a parent as adolescents) often find that they struggle to impose healthy limits on their own food intake once food is plentiful lor they age out of the parent’s dietary control). We see this in Astarion during the bite scene: he can kill the player character if they fail a roll to convince or force him to stop feeding before he drains them dry.

We know that Astarion's feeding time is late at night – he tells the player that he’ll come to them for a meal once they’re in their bedroll and everyone is asleep. This seems like a strange choice, considering Astarion's tenuous self-control, but my personal headcanon is that he feeds so late because, like many starved creatures, he’s food-aggressive. Cazador absolutely seems the type to throw an insufficient number of rats to his starving spawn for them to fight over: Astarion is likely used to having to viciously defend his paltry meal, or one of his siblings will take it from him. So the player starts out offering him breakfast along with everyone else – but they’re interrupted, Gale nearly loses a hand when Astarion snaps at him, and the decision is made to feed him separately, so he doesn’t feel threatened.

SENSORY DISTRESS

Astarion talks about being compelled to choke down the blood of bugs and putrid rat corpses - at one point idly remarking that, "I've eaten things that would disgust most vultures." - so we know that a lot of what Cazador was feeding him was a) already dead and b) actively going off, and that offers up so many potential sensory triggers.

After death, blood begins to coagulate, clotting and curdling into a semisolid - that could be a texture issue.

Rotting corpses smell vile - that could be a scent issue.

We know putrid corpse blood doesn't taste good to vampires - iirc he calls it sewer water or dirty ditch-water, in comparison to "plonk" (woodland animal blood) and "fine wine" (the player character's blood).

Corpses often also come with the lovely bonus of maggots, which are a hardcoded signal to humans (and presumably elves) that food is no longer fit for consumption. The disgust response is instinctive, to make us avoid eating the rotten item. But Astarion would’ve had to choke it down anyway – probably wanting to hurl all the while.

NEGATIVE ASSOCIATIONS

Astarion tells us at one point that if he refused the disgusting carcasses Cazador gave him, his alternative was being flayed alive. That makes the disgusting food a choice, and one he doesn't really have any choice but to make. He would also need to be fed after his torture sessions in the kennels, to give him enough blood to heal himself before being sent out after more victims. This would eventually build a link in his mind between being fed and being hurt.  

There's also a dialogue where Astarion explicitly tells us that Cazador would suggest they dine together after Astarion brought someone home for his master to feed on. The alternative, as above, is getting flayed. So that makes a horrible three-way feedback loop of negative emotions: being forced to prostitute himself -> being forced to feed -> being tortured -> being forced to feed again -> and round and round again.

BODY IMAGE

This one is more headcanon than theory and ties into my other post about vampire biology, but it's still a point worth mentioning imo. Astarion's life has essentially revolved around sex, however unwilling, for 200 years, and that's become intrinsically linked with his identity - the way he sees himself, the way he interacts with the world. He makes several comments that all but explicitly state that he views himself as a prostitute, and his entire survival strategy in the outside world hinges on his ability to essentially leverage his attractiveness and his bedroom skills to snag himself a smitten protector. Iirc, there's a point in one of the breakup dialogue trees where he'll bitterly refer to sex as his only talent and say that he knows what people think he's good for. He is putting on an act almost constantly, always thinking about how best to portray himself to get the outcome he wants, how to make use of his target's desire for him.

And? This man has, for 200 years, been taught that people like him starving. He knows that the dehydrated-muscle, prominent-collarbone, deathly-pale hungry-eyed vampire look works for him. He's been found consistently desirable even though he doesn't look anything like a healthy, well-fed vampire should, and for someone who's so reliant on being hot, that's going to be hard to let go of. At this point, it may well make him anxious to be so well-fed that his body functions start coming back online, that he can fill out a little to how he looked when Cazador first turned him, that his unshakeable seducer act can be disrupted by things like blushing for flattery. After 200 years of seeing your body starving and thinking that that is how you are at your most attractive, being able to far better imitate a living elf could well be quite distressing for him.

So. At this point, as the game begins, Astarion most likely mostly hates feeding. It makes him feel terrible – degraded, humiliated, disgusted – and has almost no redeeming features. The blood he’s getting doesn’t even taste good, let alone sate his hunger. Feeding him is, essentially, just another torture technique of Cazador's. And yet, he still craves it desperately – debases himself begging for it, feels pathetically grateful for the tiniest scrap he’s given, finds his mouth watering at the sight of vermin. That’s already a horrible, mixed-up place to be emotionally.

And now it's going to get more confusing for him. Enter the player character.

Astarion gets to feed on a thinking creature for the first time, and with it, an array of positive emotions and sensations he's never gotten to experience before, in all the time he’s been a vampire. For example:

SOCIAL SUPPORT

When the PC calls Astarion out for trying to sneakily bite them in their sleep, he explains that he usually feeds on animals, but he's currently too weak and slow to bring any down. This is interesting, because in his Origin, it's a nightmare about Cazador that prompts him to bite a companion. But...I don't think it's a lie. We see multiple times throughout the game that Astarion doesn't cope well with being put on the spot - he gets flustered and kind of starts rambling - but this line comes off without hesitation. It is, if not the truth, still a truth. And the PC doesn't take advantage of that admission - he's vulnerable, but the PC doesn't hurt him or try to make him pay them with sex. Instead they just...feed him.

PHYSICAL STRENGTH & MENTAL CLARITY

He explicitly tells you that he feels strong after drinking from you – and he goes straight out hunting, backing that up – and he has a surprised exclamation that his mind is “finally clear”. He’s been living with hunger-induced brain fog for centuries. He must feel like you’ve given him his brain back.

JOY

He’s sated. He just had a meal that tasted good. He's getting all those positive food feelings for the first time - a massive rush of endorphins to a brain starved of happy chemicals for two hundred years. How many things have made this man happy since he died? It would be overwhelming.

CONNECTION

Held up against how Astarion is used to being treated, this gesture from the PC is an overwhelming show of kindness and generosity. They choose to trust him - even though, as he'll admit in the graveyard, that's an objectively stupid thing to do - and they offer freely something that makes him feel good. Him, a man who's usually forced to degrade himself for "rewards" that make him feel terrible. And as if that's not enough, they accept him for what he is, continue to give him the protection of a group, and they defend him to the others in the morning. He's feeling grateful and giddy and warm for the first time in centuries, and he knows it's all thanks to you.

But

That's going to give him a lot of complicated feelings, because he still has all those negative emotions related to feeding too. And they're not going to go away just because he's found out thinking creature blood is actually nice. They're going to clash against that new enjoyment and make him feel all confused and weird and mixed up. He might still feel shame, even though he enjoyed the meal. He might still find himself wrestling with pointless dread, because he associates feeding with torture and abuse, even though he knows Cazador is miles and miles away. It's a small step towards seeing feeding in a less negative light, but that’s all. And like, up to this point he hasn’t even realised that he might be able to enjoy drinking blood, because to him, Cazador's horrors are normal. That’s all he’s ever known – the only experience of food he’s ever had as a vampire. Feeding Is Horrible And Degrading is a fundamental fact of life that he’s just starting to realise...may not actually be true. That’s like...having a rug yanked out from under his feet. Scary. Distressing. Out of control. Which could make him lean more towards avoiding feeding for a while, to get that control back.

So how do the scales start to tip more towards really enjoying feeding?

I think it would be the introduction of the social aspect. As just this once becomes regular feeding arrangement, he's going to realise that he gets the high of all those positive emotions every time he feeds from the PC, and he's going to start associating that giddy, happy feeling with them specifically. Because we know that while animal blood is Fine He Guesses, and he does get merry on bear blood at one point, it's nothing remotely close to person blood. Woodland creatures still make up a decent chunk of his diet, but he doesn't get the same emotional kick out of them.

And like. He likes feeling good like that. It's addictive. So he'll keep wanting to go back for more – making excuses to spend more time with them, with feeding being a very convenient excuse. He's creating a positive feedback loop for himself of happy chemicals and like, crush feelings, and every time he indulges, he’s unwittingly handing over tiny little fragments of trust and affection in exchange. It's difficult not to start liking someone who makes you feel good, especially if you're so unfamiliar with the feeling. He finds himself that little bit less tense around his willing midnight snack. He laughs more easily around them, finds he's more inclined to indulge do-gooder tendencies, realises he's starting to enjoy spending time with them. He doesn't necessarily realise it, but feeding is no longer just about quenching his blood thirst. It's become a bonding activity. He’s like a semiferal rescue animal, building an emotional connection with you as protector and provider. He’s learning that you’re trustworthy.

And then, as your relationship with him develops and deepens, sex gets involved, and he plays himself.

In one of the dialogues where Astarion offers the PC sex, he explicitly calls it a reward for feeding him, and flirtatiously brings up PC's biting kink - that he can tell they enjoy it when he drinks their blood. This always lowkey makes me laugh because like. Up to this point, Astarion has had no reason to ever connect feeding with sex. Cazador doesn't let him drink from thinking creatures, and since Astarion talks about his prey being "dragged away" to be fed on, it seems like Cazador generally took his meals privately, so mixing the two isn't something Astarion got from watching him. This is something he's picked up from you.

Anyway. I'm not sure which way around they happen, but during his first sex scene, Tav gets the option to encourage him to bite them again, and he will. Obviously, he's not going to turn down "vintage wine", but this also makes strategic sense from the perspective of his plan to get Tav to protect him - he's probably thinking that he's locked them down because they can't scratch this particular itch elsewhere. They now need him. Except - whoops, he actually likes sleeping with them, and he's starting to catch feelings. And because he's come to associate biting Tav with all those good feelings anyway, making it A Sex Thing just shifts his perspective a little, makes him realise that he’s getting something out of these interactions that he gets hooked on.

Feeding has become a source of emotional intimacy. He's beginning to feel loved, cared for, valued. Close to the PC. And that, to someone so utterly love-deprived, is potentially enough to make it feel more positive than negative over time.

(As a side note, I quite like the idea that it'll become a sort of self-soothing strategy for him for a while. If he's stressed or afraid or hurting, he'll nibble on the PC to remind and reassure himself that he can - that he's safe and loved and no longer starving. He'll nip at them to deliberately induce those positive feelings of emotional closeness in himself, if he thinks they'll outweigh the bad ones that come with.)

But even so, those bad associations will probably never fully go away or stop affecting him. He’ll probably still always hear Cazador's belittling laughter if someone walks in on him feeding – look at you, boy, not so proud now, are you? Crawling on the floor for vermin, how utterly pathetic. He’ll probably always wrestle with feelings of stress and anxiety after feeding for no obvious reason, because his primitive lizard brain still treats it like a traumatic experience sometimes even when he's feeding on his living, trusted lover. It’s going to take him such a long time to wrap his head around just how fucked up all the reactions Cazador trained into him are, how different from his new experiences as a free vampire.

Anyway. Idk how well I explained all these thoughts but. Yeah. Astarion + disordered eating issues.

[surelyspacejunk]

Melina is the Gloam Eyed Queen

I've come to this conclusion because I think the simplest possible answer the game provides is going to be more convincing than the 5D chess theory crafting required to explain her existence. Convoluted theories of her being the GEQ's child, or the GEQ sealed in a child, or cursed from an Empyrean rival or what not require theorizing how Melina could end up with the GEQ's powers when the simplest answer is that she simply is the GEQ.

If that's not enough for you I've listed below several reasons why I've come to believe that Melina is the GEQ.

1. The Frenzied Flame Ending shows you that Melina is the GEQ.

The Frenzied Flame ending shows her vowing to deliver destined death to you with the appearance of the Gloam Eyed Queen. I don't think it gets any simpler than the game telling you who she is.

2. The Shadow Realms may imply that there is a period of time between Marika's Ascension and the establishment of the Golden Order.

I list this as important because it slots Melina's story neatly into a timeline where it can exist and make sense.

The two biggest hints that this period exists are the Marika statues and churches scattered across the land (even in places Messmer's crusade could not reach such as the Abyssal Woods) and the hornsents' fixation on Marika's betrayal.

Some people believe the betrayal happened shortly after (or during) her ascension but that doesnt don't really sit well with me because the hornsent would have needed to trust her first for the betrayal to feel real. No evidence in game shows that the hornsent had much respect for the shamans beyond them being great concrete goo, so it doesn't really make sense that they'd feel betrayed by someone they feel below them. If they felt someone below their station had become a god they didn't accept, they would surely use the word cheated would they not? But they don't use the word cheated, they use the word betrayed. For a betrayal to feel real, the hornsent would have needed to trust and consider her to be an important part of their culture first. Perhaps they did not care all that much that Marika was a shaman, just that she was a successful result of the Divine Gateway they built. Surely after all the sacrifices they must have felt some relief that it worked out?

So after her ascension, churches and stakes are propped up through out the land before they are abruptly slaughtered and sealed away during Messmer's campaign. Sometime between those two events is where the GEQ's story fits in.

3. Dominula's Rituals show that both the GEQ and Marika share similar cultural traditions. Festive Grease ties it back to traditions in the Shadow Realms.

There are a number reddit posts that have connected the braids of Dominula's festivals to Marika and the Godskins. This reddit post points out cultural overlap of the flowers, runes and visuals seem to imply that they are honoring Marika from traditions that predate the Erdtree, yet in practice seem to be in-line with what the Godskins celebrate. I believe that the festive grease implies that the flaying traditions were done by the Numen shamans themselves which was then picked up by worshipers in Dominula. Perhaps, Melina herself incorporates the cultural flaying in her faction as a twisted and bittersweet way to remember the shamans that came before her. With all this laid out, it's easy to conclude that the Erdtree allows the Dominula tradition to continue despite it's connection with the 'heretical' Godskins, because it has always been a part of Marika's heritage as well.

4. Ranni and Melina's sealed eye implies that they are both Empyreans. (more info for Miquella & Malenia to follow.)

I also like the theory that all of the Empyreans are one eyed which would neatly explain what similarities Melina and Ranni may have. There isn't much visual evidence that Miquella and Malenia were one eyed, but people on reddit speculated that Miquella could have literally meant that he had one eye when when said, “I abandon here my eye”. For Malenia, it could have been that the rot had already claimed one of her eyes in youth as we could see with Millicent's sisters, with differing variances of their sight being afflicted by the Scarlet Rot. Hers is admittedly the shakiest conjecture, but it's a theory I like that visually links Ranni and Melina and gives unity to all the Empyreans born under the Golden Order.

This reddit post is the one that put me on board with the one eyed empyrean theory which lists a lot of evidence for this pattern. There are some points that make me pause though, because I could not verify some of these claims, such as the One Eyed Marika statue supposedly located in the Round Table. If they are talking about the Colosseum Marika, I think the statue is simply too damaged for that to be verifiable.

That said, I think this is an interesting observation, and it'd be interesting to see fanart of Miquella with one eye.

4. Melina is one of three other people who are familiar with Torrent, two of which are Empyrean Demigods.

This one is simple. Torrent seems to have a nose for power. Ranni seems to be familiar with him and we see promo material of Miquella riding him in the Shadow Realms.

5. The Drama

The drama of a Marika having Maliketh kill her child who rebelled against her sounds so messy and inline with the rest of the family's mess that I can't help but enjoy it. This is not proof of anything, this is me admitting that accepting Melina as the GEQ aligns with my flavor of Rule of Cool. Not to mention it would be in character for both Fromsoft and GRRM to have a daughter rebel against her mother and be crushed and erased from history for it.

So if we assume Melina is the GEQ, the timeline would imply that:

Melina, first daughter of Marika is born as an Empyrean.

Gains control over the Rune of Death and the Godskin Apostles.

Implements characteristics of the Crucible in her Godskins (with their animal/snake like features) and adopts the practice of ritual flaying.

Comes into conflict with her mother, Marika and is defeated by Maliketh.

Marika creates The Golden Order.

Various wars to consolidate the Golden Order's power are launched.

The Messmer's crusades are launched and sealed away with the Shadow Realms and are forgotten.

The Shattering happens.

Melina is left as a somewhat amnesiac spectral version of herself until the Tarnished guides her on their journey back to the Erdtree.

The rest is up to us.

====

And that's that.

As usual, all this theory crafting is just for fun and can be right or wrong. I know I already disagree with some of my Messmer/Melina theories I myself wrote(lol) but I've settled on this one pretty strongly lately and wanted to share.