#insatiable ivy

[purrassicjet]

Rat Grinder Redemption but they get assigned a "Bad Kids Trusted Adult" to make sure they're redeemed:

Ruben: Gorthalax (Starting off with my weakest. I'm pretty sure Gorthalax also has music ties from back in Freshman Year when he was introduced, so I think he can help Ruben take back his music. The Bad Kids also don't know many bard adults)

Mary Ann: Ragh (Ragh's boundless enthusiasm makes him very good at carrying conversations. He's not only a great Barbarian, but would take a genuine interest in Mary Ann's quorky pets and squishmallows. His enthusiasm has to become infectious eventually)

Oisin: Aelwyn (It was very hard to get Aelwyn to agree to make sure Oisin was redeemed, but after she was told she had to help teach him magic, she agreed. She trains him really harshly, lots of borderline unsafe sparring, but eventually they manage to get along by bitching about other people to each other)

Ivy: Sandra Lynn (Ivy is extremely vocal about how she is NOT pleased to have somebody supervising her, but Sandra Lynn takes no shit from her. Her tough love is just what Ivy needs, and slowly, to her own disgust, she starts to become attached to Sandra Lynn's no-nonsense attitude. Sandra Lynn is an incredible ranger and a great teacher, so Ivy has a hard time hating her for very long)

Kipperlily: Jawbone (Jawbone's already been working with Kipperlily for a while now, and he wants to see it through. Kipperlily is the most resistant of the Rat Grinders to being redeemed, but eventually, Jawbone's able to get back to where he was with her and help her improve)

All the kids spend time with Lydia, who knows what it's like to experience rage for a long period of time. She's very hard to dislike for very long, and they all warm up to her very quick. Mary Ann the fastest because Ragh talks about her all the time.

I'm not sure what adult would be assigned to Buddy. If anybody has any ideas, feel free to reblog with them!

[elkkiel]

has someone drawn vessel in the new bikini merch yet? someone should draw vessel in the new bikini merch

[lunarfleur]

Needy ~ Earth 42! Miles Morales

Tagging: @kombuuuu @juneberrie @sluggmuffin @hiyaitssans @ivys-graveyard

Summary: In the comfort of his favorite place, Miles gets to experience three of his favorite things all at once: RnB, kisses, and you.

A/N: I’m in a mood. I am very much pushing my needy, whiny Miles agenda. I’m writing and posting this at 8:23 am right before I leave for band camp because I can.

Warnings:Depending on how you look at it this could come off as suggestive, little bit of grabbing but nothing too bad, sweet make out session, Miles being absolutely whipped

This is x gender neutral reader!

Miles was absolutely, positively, and utterly insatiable.

You knew it would end like this the second he pulled you into his lap, a familiar pout on his lips while he silently begged for every ounce of your attention. His eyes bore into your’s and you just couldn’t say no. One hand found your hip, the other resting on your thigh. Beyonce played softly. His LED lights were blue.

He all but yanked you closer, not even hesitating to be gentle while he peppered kisses all over your face. Your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, your eyebrows…every inch of your face was touched by his lips.

“Miles,” you chuckled. He hummed, pulling away to look at you.

“What, baby?” He asked. You shook your head at him.

“You’re so needy,” you whispered, caressing his cheeks with your thumbs.

Miles didn’t respond, simply humming before he pressed his lips against yours. It was an all too familiar feeling, the way his soft lips caressed your skin. It was gentle, yet filled with passion and need. His grip on you tightened.

His chest seemed to tighten as he went longer and longer without air. But it didn’t seem important. He’d gladly suffocate if it meant kissing you for as long as possible.

But then he had to pull away, gasping quietly and mumbling sweet nothings until he could breathe again. Then he went right back to your lips. It was like they were magnets, always pulling him towards them.

Then you backed up, kissing on his jaw and down his neck. His fingers dug into your skin. Miles could have sworn he was dying.

He sucked in a breath, chuckling as he tilted his head back. You gave him goosebumps and a fluttering stomach.

“Baby,” Miles whispered. You hummed against his skin. He didn’t have anything to say, though. Maybe, you thought, it was a way to remind himself to breathe.

You pulled away, smiling softly. You made your attempt to get off of him, legs sliding off of his. He only reached out, held you tighter.

“No,” he whined. “stay there.”

“Miles, your mom is going to be home soon. If she walks in she’ll-”

“We’ll hear her walk in,” he pleaded. “Just a little longer, baby.”

“Miles…”

“Please?” He was not ashamed of his whining. He was so needy.

How could you say no?

[saturnmosaic]

succulent berries nestled in the yard.

pairing : ellie williams x female reader

synopsis : ellie, your wife, gives your cat away, out of envy or circumstance, you can't tell. leaving behind the past, you and your wife move into a new home. but with a relationship on the brink of ravage, the house seems to harbor sinister forces. and with the insatiable hunger for berries you discovered in the yard, things crumble rather fast.

warnings : pussy eating, mentions of miscarriage, animal deaths, blood, cannibalistic yearning, figures/ creatures sorta?? haunted house.

wc : 1.8k

a/n : um yeah...it's kinda bad and not executed well but i wrote this during the week of my exams, can you blame me? also i got kinda lazy during sum bits sooo

betrayal lingers in the car, stirring amidst the crisp air of the AC. the tapping of the rain against the mist covered windows, like the rhythmic pumping of your ruptured heart, does no good to the gnawing feeling inside you. how could she have given away your blythe. the tiny creature always so nimble on her feet at the call of her name, so fond of seeking slumber on your lap.

you’d found her on a similar day like this— grey hues enveloping the sky, water droplets crashing the tender and moist earth with all their might, and the rumbling of thunder in the distance. amidst all that chaos, her meek meow had stood out. her black fur was sleek with the heavy rain, and her belly was smeared plum dark.

you’d taken her home on an impulse. time and medical care healed her. and she had healed you. a lovely year spent with her, reminiscent of a lilac bloom in the summer. but now she was gone, taken away from you by your own wife. your own wife! a blasphemy.

"are you still mad at me? we had no other choice." aventurine eyes dart away from the distorted road to get a glimpse of you. your eyes still bleary and bloodshot, hair ever so tousled, and the silk of your dress embracing your petal-like skin. a bittersweet sight.

"don't say we." not even a glance spared her way, the face you’d seek for in every room you entered, now a face foreign and surreal.

"oh come on, she was sick anyway. it was only a matter of days before she died!" her temper, planted in her like a tempting hydrangea, speaks before her rationale can articulate words, knuckles gripping the charcoal leather of the driving wheel.

"she was not sick."

she sighs, the guilt of her deed looming over her like a sickly, withered willow. “baby, we both know she was and i’m really sorry but we can’t do anything about it. we’re moving to a new town, a new house. bringing her with us would be..a burden. besides i’d rather you not witness her death, i don’t wanna see you suffer like that.”

“i’m already suffering, aren’t i?”

“well, what the fuck do you want me to do, huh? i’m just trying to do what’s right. a-and it’s like i’m always second to that cat!”

the confession, lays bare like an ornate scroll, and makes you ponder if envy was the cause of it. but was what she said entirely fallacious? maybe you had been giving blythe more attention that she’d felt frivolous in your eyes.

“just- i’m sorry, okay? but i promise jesse will take good care of her.”

silence ensues, and soon the quaint house surfaces into your eyesight. the rain and dusk obscured it's intricacy but from what you could make out, it was painted in warm whites and browns, with ivy weaving up the sides and windows curtained in white lace.

…

a house is a body, your mom used to tell you. a haven meant to be worshipped in return for solace and warmth. this house became your body. its walls were alive in the daylight, screeching and beckoning for something while ellie was at work. it fed on your sorrow and resentment like a famished beast, stripping them away to procure life. your heart was indented in these walls.

the house would foist bad omens on whoever visited. aunt daphne had a miscarriage, the frail thing of a baby was bled out on the black and white tiles of your bathroom. it stirred memories of your own miscarriage, and ellie thought that was the reason you leaned so heavily on blythe, loving her as though she were your own child. when uncle luke visited, his golden retriever was found dead in the yard, leaves sitting idly on its fur like an atonement.

ellie wasn't one to believe in curses or anything remotely superficial, but she'd felt something innately sinister residing in the hollow of the house. she wanted to move, but moving away meant leaving behind your body, so you stayed, which compelled her to stay rooted to the house too.

…

on a sunny morning, beads of sweat kissing your skin, damp hair heavy under the sun’s gaze, you’d been lead to the brambles in the yard by the house itself. the raspberries were glistening and plump with saccharine juice.

they might’ve been tainted with fox piss, so you gather them in a dainty basket and slip back into the confines of your home to wash them. the water from the tap cascades down onto the fruits in your hand, ridding them of the insect debris and other dirt.

a tatted arm snakes its way around your waist and a head heavy with sleep rests on your shoulder. it had almost slipped out of your mind that it was a weekend.

ellie's other arm reaches out to turn the tap off and put the dampened raspberries away from your hand. without warning, pearly whites bite down on your neck and her tongue flicks out to languidly soothe the bruised splotch.

a carnal desire courses through your veins. ever since you moved here, and ever since blythe was no longer in your gentle arms, words barely existed anymore. and sometimes silence felt like a human presence, mocking the insubstantial souls around it. without words, sex was your salvation.

she turns you around to hoist you up on the counter, shadows smudged under her eyes. she'd come back from work late last night, you figure.

her calloused hands are on your thighs, pushing them apart with a fervor. a similar fervor that'd paint itself on her whenever you showed her a hint of normalcy. your hands still in her tousled hair, as the velvety pads of her fingertips tug your underwear off.

her knees hit the marble tiles, warmed by the sunlight streaming in through the kitchen windows, as she lifts the fabric of your dress up, a gentle rustle against the morning ambience, revealing your slick folds.

her tongue teases your weeping cunt, one hand clutching the dress up and the other resting on your thigh. you whimper in desperation, pushing her head further.

“ellie..”

she pats your thigh in response, fucking you with her warm muscle, feeling your insides devour it with a hanker. noises flow out of your mouth as smoothly as the tranquil descent of a waterfall, as your fingers dig into her scalp.

a sultry moan muffles into your hole, and she pulls back, the taste of you lingering on her tongue.

“what the fuck? why’d you-” your whine is silenced by the solace of her lips. her tongue slides into your mouth and presses against your own, slick and insistent. your own taste dissolves into your mouth, mending with your saliva.

you bite the soft pillow of her lower lip, drawing crimson liquid and earning a throaty noise from her. somewhere between a moan and a grunt.

“babe..” she lowers her gaze in an attempt to catch sight of the fresh blood. before she can wipe it away with the pad of her thumb, you lick the red off her pillowy cushion of flesh.

the taste is seraphic as it sits on your taste buds, a pure bliss, like thyme on a wound. the sensation of her tongue back inside your clenching walls heightened this feeling, if not subdued it wholly. but the taste still lingered.

her fingers soothe your swollen clit, circling around it as if afraid it’ll be seized from her grasp someday.

she laps at every drop of juice that manifests, like she’d done to your tears, as a fatuous inside joke, a long while ago. so long, she can’t remember if it was a hazy dream.

“fuck. i’m so close.”

her mouth pulls away when you reach your pleasant climax, her fingers still on your clit, helping you through your high. your hands go limp in her hair, and she languidly wipes the glistening slick from her mouth and chin with the back of the hand that releases your bunched dress.

...

the berries stay forgotten until the next morning, when it’s delicacy is withered and rotten away under the exposure to air and temperature. you throw the shrivelled fruits away and pick several more.

the new ripe ones sit snug in a ceramic bowl, alluring and tender. you feast on ten, eleven, twelve, and then the count numbs in your brain. the fluid so grossly alike to ellie’s blood, makes you delirious. it’s utterly enthralling, the juice dripping down your chin, its sticky residue settling on your skin. your teeth and lips and hands stained in a crimson hue, a crimson hue reminiscent of ellie’s blood. ellie’s blood. they chant themselves on the tip of your tongue.

spindled figures, engraved on the floors, long limbs and pulsing eyes, they seem to close in on you. the bowl is emptied, raspberries already in the pit of your stomach. the yearning grows in agony, an animalistic desire surging through the ivory of your bones.

you feel light like you’re meandering through the air, though you can feel the faces of the figures underneath your feet, something metallic making its home in your hand.

you blink and you're standing in your bedroom, ellie coddling her apatosaurus plushie, as her eyes stay fluttered. a vulnerability so immensely coating the room. the knife glides down her supple skin, the smell of meat stirring your senses. was her heart the sweetest part of her body?

"what the fuck are you doing?" her raspy voice cuts through your trance and suddenly the object in your hand feels foreign. with a sharp yank to your arm, the metal clanks on the marble floor.

"what is wrong with you?" ellie's gripping your arms, her face contorted with disbelief, shock and wrath.

"n-nothing." but something is. you both know. tears gush through your eyes, the salty pearls melding with the sweet smear of berries on your skin.

"god, it's this fucking house! we should've moved. fuck!" her grasp on your arms are gone, her hands fumbling for her phone. frustration envelopes her like a smothering blanket as she talks to demolition contractors.

your pleas fall on deaf ear, your mere presence as measly as a lamb. you let yourself be escorted out of the house, eyes sodden, red flickering in them, as you watch- watch the house your body collapse to the ground.

the berries come retching out of your mouth, along with a hideous flow of blood. the walls crumble and the world around you dances like an uncanny painting. sirens wail in the distance and layers of black pierce through your eyes, shutting them for slumber.

[koqabear]

Lamb To The Slaughter

♫: Gods & Monsters, Lana Del Rey

"An act of kindness goes a long way, your parents told you once; their words stuck with you all your life, your pure heart never failing to follow their philosophy— though, it seems your naive self was left unaware of just how far an act of kindness can go."

wolf hybrid!beomgyu x lamb hybrid!fem!reader x herding dog hybrid!soobin

Genre: smut, hybrid au, angst, porn with the world's smallest amount of plot

Word count: 15.8k

Warnings: barely edited oops, heavy predator/prey themes, injuries/blood, use of scents, scent glands and scenting, mentions of kidnapping and murder, psychological abuse i guess… this fic doesn’t let you forget that they’re hybrids btw, (showcases animal-like behaviors and habits), soogyu are stronger than the mc, obsessiveness, manipulation

Smut Warnings: DUBCON. threesome, mean dom!gyu, soft dom!soobin, sub!mc,inexperienced!mc, pet names (pretty, doll, good girl, etc.) manhandling, marking, subspace, possessiveness, choking kinda, dry humping, praise, praise kink, humiliation, dacryphilia, fingering, exhibitionism/voyeurism, degrading, orgasm control, dumbification, finger sucking, cum eating(?), spanking, begging, mind breaking, unprotected sex, jerking off ig, jealousy, hair pulling, rough sex, corruption kink maybe, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, double vaginal penetration… brief mentions of breeding, creampies, knotting, claiming, mc blacks out. (lmk if i should add anything.)

Notes: look at these stupidly long paragraphs of warnings oh im gonna kms. this story almost had me plucking my hairs out one by one, i’ve never been so stressed out by a pwp before. it was originally an ot5 au and was supposed to come out during october but… yk. shit happens. (i saw a post that changed the entire trajectory of this fic)

[This story contains dark content. Please read the warnings carefully; I am not responsible for the content you choose to consume.]

The forest at the edge of the village is something that should’ve been closed off long ago— but there’s no resources, no men to work on the border, no money— so the townspeople have resorted to old myths and tales to ward off wandering children and defenseless women instead.

There’s a killer in the forest— fairies will lead you down the wrong path and trap you in the woods forever; there’s a hidden pond so deep that if you fall in, you’ll sink forever. Typical tales that are told around the bonfire, where people cower and whisper from the thrill of the stories. Yet with each varied warning, one thing stays the same.  

There are wolves in the forest.

Large and strong and invincible, with a terrifying bloodlust and noses so keen they could spot you the moment you cross the barrier; tearing you to shreds, eating you alive and forcing you to feel the pain all throughout it. The wolves are always hungry, insatiable, and lurking about for its next prey— anyone who would enter the woods willingly would be deemed suicidal. 

You’ve never been one to believe such tales; how could you, when you’ve grown alongside the forest?

There are wolves in the forest, that much you’re sure of— but the fantastical tales and myths are nothing but a farce, crafted from the fear of the unknown and the dark, entangled landscape that lies past the backyard of your small cottage; belonging to your deceased parents, now left to fend on your own and care for the gardens and lush plants your mother had carefully cultivated since you were a child. 

She taught you everything you needed to know about the forest; which paths to take, which areas led to steep cliffs or poison ivy, and where to find herbs and plants that would aid to the medicinal business your family ran— you were fascinated by the craft, even as a young child, learning with eager eyes and an even more eager mind as you stored all the information in your small, worn down journal; the pink material of the cover faded and torn at the corners, filled to the brim yet still useful to you as you took it with you on every trip.  

Tonight, you pull on a warm coat dress; it’s thick and durable, a cute piece gifted on your birthday by the baker’s son, the border collie family always making sure to look after you since the day you were left on your own. The shawl sewed into the coat hangs over your shoulders like a small cape, adding in extra warmth as you look out the window and onto the cold scenery; the leaves have begun to abandon the trees, and if you hadn’t memorized the forest layout like the back of your hand, the covered paths might’ve concerned you— but you’re confident as always, grabbing your wicker basket and perching it on the crook of your elbow, glancing down to make sure your journal is already inside— and with one last mental check to make sure you have everything you need, you slip on your boots and make your way outside. 

“Soobin,” you say in surprise, swinging the door open, getting scared at the sight of someone already waiting for you outside— the said man only smiles at the sound of his name, laughing fondly at the way you press a gentle hand against your startled heart; his ears perk up at the sight of you and his black hair is slightly disheveled, though you guess it’s probably from his habit of running a hand through it whenever he’s restless— he holds a basket of his own, and your eyes fall onto it with a curiosity you don’t bother to hide.

“Hello pretty,” he smiles softly, the nickname never failing to make a heat flush up the back of your neck— you really hope he doesn’t notice your flushed expression, his eyes narrowing with fondness as he brings his basket up, opening it to show you the contents, “I made an extra batch of bread, and I thought you’d like some. Business will get busy for us both soon, and I’d hate for you to get hungry because you don’t have time to eat.”

He’s sweet and caring, and it never fails to leave your knees weak— he looks at you with nothing short of affection, raising a brow in curiosity and glancing down at your already occupied arm— his brows furrow, biting his lip in thought as he finally pieces everything together. 

“Are you going to the woods?” he asks softly, reaching past you and into the doorway, placing the basket of bread on the table next to the door— his hands are immediately coming up to your shoulders, smoothing out the soft material of the coat with narrowed eyes— and they’re filled with worry again, ears angling down and tail swaying slowly from side to side, searching your face that can’t seem to lie to him, “It’s dangerous to go at this hour, you shouldn’t.”

“It’ll only be dangerous if you continue to stall me,” you tease, shrugging his hands off and wrapping your own around his elbow, tugging him until you’re both stepping out of your home; he allows you to, and you’re locking it up with ease, even as he continues to tell you not to, to go another day, another time— you huff, shaking your head and frowning at the way he begins to offer to come with you; his instincts must be kicking in again, eyes filled with a calculated look he only sports when looking out for your safety— and with you being nothing but a fragile little lamb in his eyes, this look was something you’ve become very familiar with. 

“No, you mustn’t come with— it’s dangerous, and I’m the only one who knows my way around the woods,” you scold him, and even though he stares at you with that intimidating, stern look, murmuring about something about his keen senses, you stand your ground, “I’m too one-track-minded to guide someone else through these woods— I’d hate for you to get hurt because of me.”

He sighs— and you know you’ve gotten him good by the way he remains silent, stalling his leave as he tries continuing to reason with you— but you keep refusing in return, cooing softly that you’ll be okay, that you’ll be quick. 

“I’ll wait for you,” he finally says, refusing to back down even as you express your worry; after a moment of bickering, you finally give in. Your eyes widen in surprise as he gently pulls you in for a hug, engulfed entirely in his embrace as he rests his chin on your shoulder, inhaling your scent with a content sigh— warm, comforting and pure, like jasmine with the hint of a pure, soft vanilla, his nose subconsciously poking at your gland in search for more— and you shiver at the feeling, engulfed in his calming scent, a sage and rich pine, allowing yourself to melt in his arms and hold you tighter, ignoring the way your heart begins to race the longer your remain there. 

“Come back to me safe.”

Soobin is just as solemn and loyal as he was the day he declared that he would always protect you— and it makes your heart race a bit faster, a dopey smile stuck on your face as you wave him goodbye— you sigh pathetically the moment you’re finally in the woods.

The leaves crunch under your feet and birds chirp in the distance; it’s comforting to you, humming softly to yourself as you walk the paths you need to take without much of a thought, gathering herbs and plants as you slowly check them off your list; everything goes as smoothly as it always does, your mind in awe as you witness the sun beginning to set. 

You should get going soon; it was never ideal to be in the woods after dark, no matter how familiar you were with the landscape. The thought makes your steps quicken and your eyes sweep over the land in acute concentration, looking for the last plant on your list— you’re freezing entirely when you hear a shift against the leaves. 

You’re still; was it a false alarm, or a harmless rabbit passing by? You’re not entirely sure, wicker basket heavy in your hand as the other presses firmly against your heart; trying to settle your heart rate, breathing deeply as you look for any signs of movement, any signs of life around you. 

Just when you think the coast is clear, you hear it again; rustling against the leaves, harsh and erratic as something else greets your ears— sharp pants and sounds of struggle, a pained yelp resounding into the vast space and sending you into action before you can think twice. 

You round the thick oak tree ahead of you, searching for the source of the sound— and stumble back in surprise, an involuntary gasp escaping you as sharp eyes and equally sharp teeth point your way— a man lays before you, injured and weak.

Except, he’s not just a man; that much is made clear to you the moment your eyes sweep over his frame once more, taking in the ears that press flat on his head and his fangs that remain bared at you, the injured man—wolf hybrid— growling lowly at you and shuffling back to curl against the thick tree that once covered him; your hands shake as you hold onto your basket a little tighter, wide eyes sweeping over his figure and inevitably landing on the source of all this commotion; a twisted ankle, rendering the man before you immobile. 

You must run— you must, and it’s all your instincts seem to yell at you, your muscles becoming rigid with tension, white ears pressing flat against the top of your head and fluffy tail quivering with fear— but you have yet to, something about the look in the wolf’s eyes making you ignore your instincts, just for a second; behind the dangerous fangs that glint beneath the remaining light and his eyes that are narrowed threateningly, you can still see the pain he’s found himself in.

Something inside you clicks— your weak heart twists and your hands grip your basket a bit tighter, a voice in your mind telling you that you can’t just leave him like this; you can do something to help. Next thing you know, you’re taking cautious, slow steps toward him, hands held out to show that you’re nothing close to a threat— though you’re sure that the smell of fear that rolls off you in waves is enough of an indicator— and your soft voice is whispering out your intentions, continuing your approach even as he bares his teeth at you in warning. 

“I want to help you,” you say softly, finally at his feet as you place your basket gently next to him; and he growls at you once more, though you don’t find yourself to be afraid— if he were dangerous, he would’ve attacked long ago. It’s the only thought that repeats itself in your mind like a prayer, pretending as though your hands don’t tremble as you reach into your basket, as you grab the herbs you were just stocking up on and the bandages you carry for emergencies. 

He lets out a particularly harsh growl that makes you jump; it makes you hesitate to touch his skin, bruised and broken and bloody, eyes jumping to meet his— and though the action was meant to be confident, nothing can hide the fear that taints your eyes, the way your frame shrinks slightly when you’ve found that he has no issues holding eye contact— and after a standstill moment, you finally continue, ripping a piece of the bandage and attempting to clean the wound as best as you can. 

You’re a bit clumsy at first; unable to look away from the man, his strikingly dark red hair that's matted to his head from a thin layer of sweat, dirtied clothes and face that’s twisted in a mean glare— but eventually, it softens, the deep heaving of his chest calming as he watches the way you tend to him with deft hands, not seeming to care if he’s soiling your pretty coat as you tug him closer to you. 

The bandages are tight on his ankle and you’ve placed herbs within to help soothe the swelling— all tricks you’ve learned from your mother, from the times when you would run about carelessly and twist your ankle in some hidden hole, only calming your cries to see her work her magic on you.

Reassuring words don’t do much in the grand scheme of things, but you still whisper them sweetly to the injured man before you, dry bandage cleaning along the rest of his calf as you tell him to rest, to try and not overexert himself. And though you don’t know if he can understand you, though you’re unsure of where he came from— because as far as you know, wolves have been banished from your village for decades— you still find yourself caring for him. It’s something he can pick up on in your eyes, gentle and reflecting the last of the sun’s golden rays that leak through the woods. 

It’s quiet; it’s peaceful. Warm fingers lingering on his skin much longer than you intended, a curiosity leaking through your wide eyes as you take in his figure, the tall dark ears that stand on his head, the tail that lays on his side, thumping rhythmically— and you think you’ve finally found the courage to ask who are you? Lips parting to speak, you’re cut off by the sound of rustling, a new overwhelming scent overtaking your senses; something is approaching. 

The man before you doesn’t seem to be worried; it’s you that’s whipping around to the source of the sound, shrinking pathetically once you spot something emerging from the dark, thick mass of trees behind you; eyes, multiple pairs, glowing and angry as they stare at you like you’re their next meal— you’re not sure how many pairs there might be, but you’re stumbling to your feet quickly, eyes widening as you realize that the sun has set long, long ago.

You almost slip on the leaves beneath you; one last glance at the man behind you shows that his hands were out as though to catch you, expression twisted with what you’re surprised to see is… concern. But as a rough growling begins to surround the two of you, a sharp pang of fear courses through your body, the gravity of your situation finally sinking in as your eyes sweep around the area in one last, terrified glance.

They’re targeting you.

Before you can think twice, you’re turning on your heel and running— though nothing follows behind, you still let adrenaline take its course, shallow breaths and teary eyes guiding you back to your home; you don’t realize how crazed you must’ve looked until you’re finally reaching your front door, a worried Soobin immediately interrupting your flee and scooping you into his arms, whirling around to shield you away from the forest.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt? Dear, what happened?” he’s breathing out the concerned questions against the crown of your head, arms wrapped tightly around your middle and the only thing keeping you up as your knees buckle with fear; his gaze sweeps down to the state of your cute coat, the once pristine and pink material now dirty and bloodied; his hands hold onto it with a newfound panic, lifting the coat and attempting to find the source— it isn’t until you’ve let out a few pathetic sniffles that you can finally reassure him the blood is not yours.

“Is everything okay? Did something happen to you? Oh, I should’ve—” Soobin has pulled away to cup your face in his hands, wiping away the tears that escape your sweet eyes like a fountain; thumbs caressing your tear-streaked skin lovingly, brows knitted together as his concern pours off him in waves— and you shake your head softly, attempting to dissuade the guilt he must’ve felt for leaving you on your own. 

“It’s fine, I’m not hurt,” you croak out, grabbing onto his waist for support as you finally regain the strength in your legs, “I just— had some encounters with a wolf— but I’m safe, they didn’t hurt me, I’m just a bit shaken, is all.”

“A wolf?” Soobin asks, much more concerned by your words as he pulls away to inspect you once more; his hands run gingerly over your shoulders, running along them until they’ve stopped at your neck, eyes honing in on the spot for a moment before he sighs in relief. His gaze is hardening once more, cupping your face and looking at your sternly as he speaks. “Where were they? Did they follow you? Did you interact with them?”

“No, no— it’s alright, I’m alright, I promise,” you breathe out, hoping that Soobin doesn’t notice the way you shrink under his gaze, the way your body warms up at his touch— but he’s much too concerned about your safety to pick up on it, dismissing every cue of your body as nothing but fear, instincts heightened as he looks behind you and back at the forest you just came from. He watches the woods carefully, eyes narrowed and ears perked in concentration— but nothing happens, and he’s left to reluctantly believe your words, even if he wants nothing more than to run into the woods himself and make sure there’s no threat to you. 

After a moment of observing the forest, Soobin is turning back to you, and his gaze immediately softens at the sight. The brave front you put up isn’t fooling him, and it’s quite obvious that you’re still shaken from your encounter, delicate ears still pressed close to your head, eyes wide and scent muddled with distress— like rotten flowers, earthy and pungent— and with all the adrenaline ebbing away from your system, you’ve found that your legs have become pure jelly once more; Soobin is quick to catch on to the way you tremble and hold on to him tightly. 

“Oh, my doll,” Soobin sighs softly, fishing for your keys in your coat pockets and unlocking the door for you, leading you inside with a careful hand— as though you were made of porcelain, still shaken and anxious as he leads you to sit down, “it’s alright, you’re safe now— I’ll keep you safe.”

Soobin insists on taking care of you long after you tell him you feel better; he’s keen to protect you through and through, keeping his distance yet still doting on you as he makes you tea, helps you out of your coat, and even offers to wash it for you— the sight replaces the heavy fear in your stomach with butterflies. 

When he bids you goodbye, his eyes are soft, his movements slightly reluctant— but he must, it’s unlawful for him to stay the night with you; an unclaimed little prey like you, spending the night with Soobin, even if he was nothing short of perfect and kind, was enough to have the town gossiping like a storm. The very thought has your cheeks hot and your tongue stumbling on words, telling Soobin to get home safe with a shy, sweet voice— and he brushes his thumb against your cheekbones, smiling fondly before he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead; he lingers there, and you think you might just melt against him before he finally bids you goodbye. 

Your heart still races long after he’s gone; you suppose all this makes up for the fact that you forgot your basket in the woods, mourning the fact that you’ll have to go back to get it tomorrow— but for now, you’re content with giggling softly at the memory of Soobin’s lips against your skin, completely unaware of the eyes that watch you twirl around your kitchen happily.

 ≪ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆≫  

When you wake up, you find something peculiar at your doorstep; your wicker basket is placed before your feet, pristine as it was when you first took it out. 

Your brows furrow, looking around the area and wondering how it got here— your mind is going back to the wolf you tended to, eyes slowly sweeping over the dense forest, ears twitching in attention, listening for even the slightest rustle of leaves, wondering if he’s still lingering— but the world around you is still, and it seems to be only you here. You bend down to pick the basket up carefully. 

Everything is intact— your herbs, your bandages, your worn down pink journal— and the closer you bring it to your face in order to inspect it, the better you’re able to catch something peculiar; a scent, your nose twitching in curiosity and your eyes narrowing. The unknown scent only grows stronger the closer you get to the handkerchief you used to line the inside, and only then are you able to get a good sense of it— light and heady, like an amber and smoky smell filling your nose, finding yourself oddly enticed by the scent. 

You’re far too wrapped up in attempting to decipher the complicated notes of this new scent to notice someone approaching; your senses have gotten so used to Soobin’s presence you no longer find yourself alert around him, only perking up at the approaching sound of leaves crunching and the familiar, sage filling your senses— tucking the basket behind your back, you send him a meek smile, cheeks heating up as you silently hope he didn’t see you curiously nosing at your basket. 

“Hey, pretty thing,” Soobin rumbles out lowly, smiling fondly at the way you practically preen at the name; you’re terrible at hiding your expression, the way your ears twitch at his words not helping your attempts to seem nonchalant before him. 

“Hi Soobin,” you smile, fingers restlessly playing with the wicker basket behind your back as you tilt your head curiously, “what’re you doing here today?”

“I needed to check on you,” he says immediately, a soft oh leaving your lips at that, “I couldn’t sleep well knowing I just… left you here on your own. I needed to make sure you were safe.”

“Soobin, it’s fine, really,” you reassure him softly, fluffy tail wiggling behind you at the fact that he confessed how worried he was about you, his dedication to keep you safe, “Nothing happened— as long as I’m in my home, I’m safe.”

Soobin wants to argue against that, you can tell. But you don’t give him a chance to, inviting him in with a tug at his arm, smiling at the way he immediately relents; you tell him about your plans for today over a cup of tea, that you have to make a few deliveries to some homes across the village— Soobin practically jumps to offer to come with. 

“You– won’t you be busy?” you ask shyly, staring down at your teacup and stirring your spoon in  a feeble way to distract yourself. 

“No, I’m not needed at the bakery today,” Soobin immediately reassures you, reaching over the table to place a delicate hand over your own— and you stiffen, a heat rushing through your body at the sudden contact; the smell of sage wafts over to you as his thumb rubs soothingly over your skin, your mind mulling over his offer as you bite at your lip in thought. 

He’s eager to hear you say yes; his tail wags slowly behind him, ears perked up and eyes honed in on your every expression— and after a moment, you finally nod meekly. 

“It’s only a house or two, but the walk is… it’s far,” you say, standing at the doorway and reaching over for your basket, placing the bottles and jars filled with homemade remedies inside carefully— but before you can continue your explanations and tuck your basket snuggly into the crook of your arm, Soobin is taking it from you, his brows knitted together as he stares down at the item in confusion. 

“I thought you lost this,” he says quietly, rotating the item in his hands, taking in its pristine condition with a frown— his ears are perking up and his tail is straightening, head whipping over to you with wide, concerned eyes. “Did you go into the woods to retrieve it?”

“No!” you say, oddly defensive as you shake your head adamantly, “It just— it was at my doorstep this morning, I think someone might have found it—”

“The wolf,” Soobin sneers, his tone much darker than it was mere moments ago— it makes your ears flatten against your head and your figure shrink, his scent turning earthy and thick and rendering you docious and pliant— his eyes are darting from the basket and back to you, only to go back to the basket in order to examine it closely; the moment Soobin brings it closer to his face, you’re able to see the very moment where that same, smoky scent enters his senses— his pupils dilate, and his nose twitches. 

The same scent as before. Soobin recognized it as the same scent that you were drenched in the moment you found him, shaken and face aghast— your coat and skin reeked of nothing but that scent, wanting nothing more than to take you inside and replace it with his own— but the most he could do in the moment was hold you close and hope that it would wash off. 

The owner of this scent must have brought you the basket back; Soobin’s head races to find meaning, to find reason, adrenaline coursing through his body that yells at him to take action; this must be a threat—you’ve been followed, they know where you live.

“It isn’t safe for you to stay there anymore,” Soobin proceeded to tell you, only confessing how he felt once you were far, far away from your home— from the woods. And you could only shake your head at that, the reassurances an automatic response in your head at this point. 

But Soobin wasn’t going to go down without a fight this time; knowing that the wolf was out there somewhere, that he knew where you lived and even went as far as to visit your home— it made Soobin tense with anger. 

“That wolf was at your doorstep without you knowing,” Soobin continued to reason, all throughout your walk back, “you don’t know who they are— what their intentions are.” 

It was only then that you decided to mull through his offer to stay, or for you to stay with his family— images of a bloodthirsty wolf at your doorstep filled your mind, and you couldn’t help but feel like your nine year old self again, sitting at a fireplace and telling each other scary stories about the forest only a few feet away from you— your young self would always be left shaken and paranoid, asking your parents if you could sleep in their bed. 

Maybe you’ve become too used to being independent; you’ve survived this long on your own— most lamb hybrids you knew couldn’t walk around at night without having a trusted predator around to protect them, just in case— yet you were so used to depending only on yourself that you seem to have forgotten how truly vulnerable your species is; Soobin made sure to remind you with a stern look and crossed arms. 

“I don’t see why you’re insisting so much, binnie— I promise nothing happens here, this place is dead,” you tell him as you make dinner for the two of you, the sun now long gone and the man still stuck to your side, leaning against the counter beside you and watching you cook dutifully— his eyes drift over to the window behind him, looking over his shoulder and at the dark, gloomy forest that obscures his view; his eyes can’t help but narrow and pick apart each shape he sees, nose keen and eager to sense any changes, any hint of that smoky smell— but he sees nothing, and he’s turning back around to catch the way you send him a slightly incredulous look. 

“I understand why you might feel this way— you’ve been on your own for longer than you can remember, after all,” Soobin says softly, taking in the way your eyes remain downcast and you shy away from his gaze. Hesitantly, he shifts to stand behind you, a gentle hand placing itself on your bicep before his head lowers to rest on your shoulder; his forehead rests against you, able to smell the restless, flowery notes of your scent— despite the strong front you put up, Soobin’s keen senses are still able to pick up on the tenseness of your body, the way you keep glancing out the window and into the forest unsurely. 

“You have to allow yourself to be helped— there’s nothing wrong with that, doll,” he coaxes softly, ears atop his head twitching at the sound of the shaky sigh you let out— the stove is turned off, and the food is done— but you don’t seem to care about that much. 

Carefully, Soobin nudges at your jaw with his head; allowing your neck to tilt slowly, to expose it to him as his nose runs along your skin delicately, until it’s pressed against your scent gland, inhaling slowly and taking in the intense mix of smells and emotions within you— and he presses his lips softly against it, a gentle kiss that turns your scent sweet and fresh like a blooming flower; your heart pounds against your chest for a second, then proceeds to relax against Soobin’s hold the moment his scent invades your senses. 

“I’m here to protect you.” 

His words stick to you for the rest of the night— as does he, his presence reassuring enough to make you forget of why he was here in the first place— enough to allow you to miss the glowing eyes that peek from the edge of the forest as you get a glass of water in the middle of the night, taking in your drowsy figure and eyes that are heavy with sleep; unaware of the pair of eyes that take you in hungrily, the tongue that runs along a sharp set of teeth, nose twitching to get another gust of your sweet, clean scent, the muddled vanilla that makes his mouth water. 

With Soobin lying in the guest bedroom, you’re almost able to forget that there are wolves in the forest. That there is one that has now set his sights on the cute little lamb that tended to him with wide eyes and an innocent heart. 

 ≪ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆≫  

It’s early in the morning when you bid Soobin goodbye; your cheeks are flushed and you’re barely able to look him in the eye, despite not having done anything more than talk the whole night. He finds your shyness nothing short of endearing, placing one last affectionate kiss on top of your head before he tells you to call him if you ever need anything— to never be afraid to ask for help. You nodded to his words with a soft smile. 

Watching him leave had left a bit of an empty feeling in your heart; you couldn’t seem to help but watch him leave pathetically, standing at your doorway even after he had long gone; his scent still drifted around in your senses, the warm and sturdy scent helping you remain calm as you finally went back inside— closing the door behind you, you were pleasantly surprised to see that your home still smelled strongly of him. 

You had over ten different orders you needed to work on; you were able to busy yourself with making medicine throughout the rest of the day, boiling herbs and making remedies for colds and illnesses and burns. It was a tedious and slow process, and as you finally began to reach the end of your list, you couldn’t help but frown. 

You ran out of two different herbs needed for these next three orders; without them, you wouldn’t be able to make the medications at all. 

Glancing out the window, you gulped; it wouldn’t be another thirty minutes before the sun set, but after your encounter a few days ago— paired with Soobin’s warning and harsh reality check— you were much more hesitant to go into the woods on your own. 

You could call Soobin— ask him if he’d like to accompany you, stay put until you finally had proper protection. You mulled over the idea for a moment, your traitorous mind whisperering encouraging words in order to see him again; it’s just for protection, you told yourself, walking over to your landline phone before you began to dial his number, tangling the long cord around your fingers absentmindedly as you did; you tried to dismiss the nervous pounding of your heart, the way you bit at your lips in anticipation of hearing his voice again.

“Hello?” you’re gulping slightly at the sound— part of you wasn’t expecting him to actually answer. Clearing your throat softly, you muster up the courage to do what you’ve been hesitant to for so long. 

“Hi Soobin,” you start softly, listening to the small hum of acknowledgement from the other side, “I— I’m sorry to bother, but I just wanted to ask; I have to make another trip to the forest— it’s urgent— and I… well, I was wondering if you’d be able to accompany me. For protection.” 

The shyness and hesitance in your voice is horribly apparent; it makes you face burn and your hands grow clammy, feeling as though there’s a lump in your throat as you wait for him to respond— it feels like eternity, but in reality, it’s merely seconds—- and you’re practically slumping against the wall in relief when he gives you a soft of course I can in response.

“Wait for me inside until I get there,” he says, and you nod, letting out a sound of affirmation as well, “I’ll be quick.” 

Soobin hangs up promptly after; you’re left to scurry around your home in preparation of your trip, changing out of your sullied work clothes and into something more comfortable— inevitably, the same coat from before finds itself wrapped around your form, and as you wait by the doorway with your wicker basket in hand, you realize with a smile that the item is practically drowned in Soobin’s scent— the item is wrapped around you tighter and your nose is burrowed deeply into the soft plush-like material, your senses spinning with the warm, earthy smells that belong to the man. 

The sun is setting— but he’ll be here soon, a fact only proved by the sound of footsteps your keen ears manage to pick up on; you’re practically racing to make it to your front door, only to pause at the sound of something else— more footsteps. 

Instinct brings your body to the floor and away from all windows; your back is pressed up against your door, ear pressed tightly against the wood as you remain alert, subconsciously holding your breath in fear of getting spotted in any way— but whoever is currently surrounding your home knows you’re here, judging by the way they take careful, calculated steps closer to your door— you will your heart to remain calm, to not alert them that you currently lean on the very item separating the two of you, but the fear that courses through your veins is simply too strong. 

Your mind is racing a mile a minute; you try to calculate who it could be, why they’re here— and you’re thinking back to Soobin’s warnings the night before, eyes widening as you scold yourself for being such a naive idiot— because as you pick up of the soft sounds of sniffing and low growls, you realize that you’ve managed to lead a pack of wolves right to your home. 

It all happens too quickly; you’re running from the door at the sudden spike of scents, like a dirty smoke that approaches your door in the blink of an eye— the wood practically flies off its hinges with the way it’s broken into, a scream involuntarily leaving you as you grab the nearest thing to you as a weapon— the fire pit poker is thin and old in your hands, but that’s the last thing on your mind as you back away slowly, taking in the wolves that make their way into your home with sheer terror. 

One, two, three— it’s only three of them, but it’s enough to have your limbs trembling and your ears pressed flat against your head; tall, broad figures, disheveled in appearance and looking at you with eyes dilated, filled with nothing but a carnal hunger that makes your stomach twist into knots. 

It’s a standstill. They watch you with coy smiles and blown out eyes, watching as you press yourself against the wall, wondering if you can make it to the back exit of your home if you try enough— but they’re perceptive to even the most miniscule movement, every twitch of your muscle garnering a step closer from any one of them; you remain still, and so do they. It’s silent, save for the ragged heavings of your chest and the low grumbles that resonate from theirs— they have yet to make a move, locking eyes with the tallest and watching as his lips quirk into a smile.

You feel nauseous. They’re toying with you.

They could easily take you— kill you— in a split second; the second you try to run, they’ll be hot on your heels, outmatched three to one and left at their mercy entirely. And judging by the way they practically salivate at the smell of fear that radiates from you, you don’t think your fate with them will end well.

You gulp. They watch you, keen eyes taking in the way your throat bobs, the tears that fill your eyes— the way your legs look as though they’ll give out on you any moment now, the flimsy poker in your hands nothing but a joke as you point it at them in warning— as though it would do anything, they muse. 

One of them, with a head of ginger hair and eyes sharp as a knife, begins to approach; you tense, bringing the poker forward more, inhaling sharply and taking a step back— but that only garners a sharp growl from another, with pitch black hair and a gaze so threatening it renders you pliant; hesitantly, you meet the eyes of the man who stands before you, narrowed eyes taking you in with amusement. 

He reaches towards you— again you tense, flinching at the movement and weakly yelling at the wolf to stay back—! But it can only come out as a breathless whisper, your entire being rendered useless, instincts doing nothing but telling you that this is it; accept your fate, it tells you, weakening your muscles and sending off waves of fear so thick the room reeks of death and rot; your figure shrinks the moment he grabs your poker, ignoring your clearly empty warning as he lowers it forcefully, fighting easily against any strength you had left. 

“Don’t be afraid,” he smiles, baring his teeth that only makes your blood run cold— sharp canines, strong and in great condition to bite and chew even the toughest of meats— “We’ll take good care of you.”

A sharp growling impedes the man before you from closing in on you, from taking away what little space was left between you— the sound is loud and furious, making the three wolves before you turn immediately in search of the source; including you, the foreign sound making your knees buckle and the poker fall from your hands as you paralyze with fear. 

Standing in the doorway is a figure you remember quite well— the sight of him makes your eyes widen and you heart flicker a dim light of hope, watching the way he sends the three wolves before you a pointed glare, enough to make the two nearest to him avert their eyes the moment his gaze lands on them. 

“Beomgyu,” the wolf near you sneers, “what the hell are you doing?”

He doesn’t bother answering the question; his eyes land on you, on your figure that visibly trembles with fear, nostrils flaring at the scent that radiates from you and fogs the room— and he growls. 

“Get out.” 

It’s a simple command given by the man— Beomgyu—  to the others, eyes filled with an unbridled rage that makes the others flinch; they’re confused, glancing to where you remain frozen before they’re turning back at the man, as though waiting for him to back down on his words— instead, he bares his teeth, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed with rage, and repeats himself. 

“I said, get. Out.”

Silence; you can hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears as you watch the two wolves glance at the man with the bright head of ginger hair— as though looking to him for their next move. The two remain in a standstill, refusing to look away from the other, as though silently communicating. And after what feels like eternity, the wolf near you scoffs, lips upturned in annoyance as he finally looks away— he turns back to you, eyes scanning your shaken figure, and he smiles the moment your eyes meet.

“Don’t expect any mercy from him.”

You’re sure you might be on the verge of fainting as you watch them all exit, one by one; tails practically tucked between their legs, only wolf to make a fuss being the orange-haired one from before; you watch the two of them bare their teeth and make comments you can’t quite pick up on, pressing yourself firmly against the wall and jumping the moment they snap warningly at each other— a threat to bite, the sight of their sharp fangs enough to have you retreating slowly to the exit of your backyard. 

The second his back is turned from you, watching the wolves retreat to the forest, is the second you make an attempt to escape— hurried steps leading you to the kitchen, walking backwards in order to keep an eye on him— your shaking hands remain pressed against the wall in an attempt to keep yourself upright, keen eyesight taking in any small movement from him, body alight with adrenaline as you wait for the moment you can book it. 

His ears, a dark auburn just like his hair, twitch; his head snaps over to where you stand, dilated eyes meeting yours in milliseconds. 

You’re turning around to make a run for it— the floorboards creak behind you from the very sound of Beomgyu running after you, a yelp leaving you involuntarily; your feet are falling harshly on the cool tile of your kitchen, but before you can so much as outstretch your hand and reach for the doorknob of the back exit, strong hands are wrapping around your middle and spinning you around, away from your last taste of freedom. 

“Please!” you cry out aimlessly, a pained groan falling from your lips as your back collides with the wood of your counter; you’re pinned into the very corner, tears pricking at your eyes and weak hands pressing against the strong chest of the wolf before you— your eyes remain glued to the floor, soft tail trembling with abandon and ears willing hopelessly to hide your face. 

“You’re running? After I just saved you?” is all you get in response, his voice gruff and genuine as he remains unfazed at the weak pushes against his chest; his arms cage you in, body impossibly close to yours as he looms over you, watching the way you cower and make yourself shrink with wide, interested eyes. “Why do you run from me, my flower?” 

The pet name makes your stomach lurch; a soft sob escapes you, eyes closing in defeat as your mind makes peace with your demise— your shoulders shake with every attempt of yours to breathe properly, every inhale only flooding your senses and clogging your mind with the scent of the wolf above you, like a thick smoke that burns your lungs and leaves your thoughts impaired.

Beomgyu is all but salivating at the sight of you; your soft, fragile body, the tremble of your limbs, your pure and fluffy ears that are pressed flat atop your head, hands subconsciously gripping onto his shirt in a feeble attempt to keep yourself upright— your heartbeat overwhelms him, quick and panicked just like your scent; it makes his brows pinch together and a confused pout form on his lips, the familiar, delicate flower no longer radiating from your figure.

“Are you scared of me?” he murmurs, ears twitching in curiosity as you remain silent; he leans down, willing to get close even after you continue to shrink away in response, curling into yourself and keeping your chin tucked in dutifully; his hand flies to your waist in attempts to prevent you from shifting away any further, rough claws digging in through your dress and making you jolt in surprise— a shaky breath leaves your lips, the wolf that continues to inch closer to you, cocking his head in fascination. His eyes all but burn through your skin. 

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispers, lips brushing against your temple as he speaks; you remain frozen, stiff, feeling the way he continues to wander down, nosing at you softly in search for a sign of that sweet, intoxicating smell you once gave off. 

“You’re safe with me— remember?”

Your voice remains stuck inside you— all you can muster is another shaky breath as you feel his lips brush against your jaw, wandering along until he’s at your ear— then he trails down, forcing your head to tilt as his nose runs a soft line along the column; a weak whimper falls from your parted lips the moment he presses down against your pulse point, feeling him inhale slowly before he presses a soft kiss against your sensitive neck— like an automatic reaction, warmth blooms from the spot, spreading through your body, your heart telling you to calm down— but you refuse, and though Beomgyu is able to smell the sweet vanilla and the flowers that blooms from his action, it all dies into one muddled mess that leaves him to huff frustratedly. 

His hands have begun to wander— large and warm, sharp claws scratching at your garments and running up your sides before he hugs you tight, pressing your figure flush against his— and as have his lips, pressing soft kisses against your scent gland repeatedly, in search of the scent that he was only granted a mere glimpse of— soft, careful kisses at first, listening to the way you whimper and cry against him, trembling hands balling up his shirt in your fists— only to feel himself grow more desperate, out of control, his lips parted and harsh as he presses his kisses against one of the weakest points in your body. 

Beomgyu’s nose is sharp, is able to pick up on even the slightest changes within your scent— so when he picks up on the warm, subtle twinge of vanilla that peeks through everything else, he’s unable to find himself exhibiting restraint. Warm and wet, you feel his tongue press against your skin, the sharp, accidental scratch of his fangs following after— and you gasp, eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling above you as your mind finally processes what his intentions truly are, feeling your instincts take over soon after— the moment of clarity passes, and your vision fogs; your body melts against Beomgyu’s.

You’ve been sandwiched between the counter and Beomgyu’s body; even more so now that Beomgyu’s felt you submit to him, head lolling to the side and displaying your most fragile part to him, a smell of vanilla, warm and sweet like a pastry, filling his lugs soon after— you’re presenting yourself to him, eyes glassy and lips parted as you simply let out a shaky exhale. 

Your legs are parted with every attempt Beomgyu makes to get closer to you, feeling him stand in between them as he continues to cage you in, continues to kiss and lick along your exposed skin, huffing and sighing in satisfaction with every soft keen you let out in response, your mind and soul still convinced that your time has come to an end. 

From a distance, Soobin senses it; he sees the dim lights of your cottage, the door that is left ajar, crooked on its hinges— most of all, he’s able to pick up on the intoxicating sweetness that escapes from the cottage, the innocent jasmine that’s intertwined with the scent that travels with the wind— and his ears stand straight, keen senses straining to hear the soft sob that leaves your delicate lips— his body reacts before he can, and he runs straight to you. 

The sharp call of your name is all Soobin can get out before he stumbles to a stop at the kitchen doorway— his eyes remain wide and focused on the sight before him, body on edge and tail stiff as he grits his teeth in rage. 

Your doe eyes meet his instantly— they’re shining and incoherent, and Soobin wonders if you’re even conscious of where you are, of the way you whine out his name in the most fragile tone he’s ever heard. The rest of you is covered— you’ve been pressed tightly against the kitchen counter, back arching backwards due to the sheer pressure of the body that weighs you down; ragged clothing covers your own, the pink coat obscured by a white flowing, dirtied white button up, falling off the owner’s shoulder and pooling at his elbow— Soobin’s eyes follow the line of movement, taking in his arms disappear behind your waist, forcing your lower halves to be glued together, your dress bunched up at your thighs from the crude way they’ve been forced open. 

“Soobin,” you whine again, taking his attention as he watches a hand of yours appear from where they were caged in, outstretching shakily toward him before it falls limp, hanging over the arm that pulls you closer against him. 

Dark, long hair covers the face that is buried in your neck— ears of the same color adorn the top, twitching with interest at the sound before they stand forward— roughly, the head emerges from its hiding place, eyes blown open with nothing short of hunger; the wolf before Soobin bares his teeth and growls, hugging you tighter against him, stepping back and shielding you away from the dog’s view. 

Soobin doesn’t hesitate to mimic the other’s threats— he means every bit of it and more, face alight with rage and body poised in an aggressive stance— and though your face has been tucked into the wolf’s chest, though the arms that wrap around your body attempt to prevent you from being seen at all, Soobin is still able to catch glimpse of your tail that quivers with fear, of your figure that shakes pathetically from instinct. 

Loud, angry growls and spiked scents fill your senses and leaves you docile; Soobin’s sharp, strong pine mixes with Beomgyu’s thick, intoxicating smoke, painting the scene of a burning forest as they continue to warn the other, narrowed gazes and sharp canines creating yet another standstill. 

Beomgyu’s eyes catch onto Soobin’s restlessness with ease— and before he’s able to make a move, Beomgyu is manipulating your body once more, spinning you around and pressing your back firmly against him, feeling the way you follow his every command without a second thought— and when you present yourself to him for a second time from pure instinct, Beomgyu grins; his eyes lock with Soobin’s and his head cranes down, dangerously close to your scent gland that continues to release its tempting smell.

“Stay.” is all Beomgyu growls out, eyeing the way Soobin freezes immediately, wide eyes watching the way Beomgyu’s mouth opens, tongue lolling out lazily before it’s running slowly against your shoulder, gliding along until it stops dutifully against the joint of your neck, pressing down to feel your pulse— Soobin flinches, undoubtedly wanting to lunge forward, but is stopped again by the wicked smile Beomgyu sends him, sharp canines meticulously on display. 

You’re all left frozen— Beomgyu’s arm that has been thrown around your waist toys with the hem of your cute coat, the other that presses against your heart feeling the quick pounding against his palm— and he laughs, inching his hand up slowly until it’s around your neck, his index and thumb exuding little effort to keep your head upright, watching your eyes slowly meet Soobin’s.

“Any sudden moves,” Beomgyu begins again, eyes flickering down to your neck, watching the quick rise and fall of your chest with fascination, feeling the way your throat constricts with every swallow against his palm— and he smiles, looking back at Soobin and allowing his tongue to run over the top row of his teeth leisurely, “and she’s mine to claim.”

Silence; Soobin takes a moment to weigh his options, to inspect the scenery before him— the wolf means it, Soobin is quick to realize, seeing the way he all but drools over your exposed neck and faint figure— and he meets your eyes again, attempting to decipher what you may be thinking, only to realize that you’re not composed at all; you’ve been stripped down to nothing but your basic survival instincts, and yet it seems as though your brain has told you that it’s best to give up any fight you have left inside you.

Soobin feels his jaw ache from the way his teeth grit together angrily— and with a soft huff, he becomes the first to look away from Beomgyu entirely, turning his head in defeat and forcing his body to back down. 

“Good dog,” Beomgyu coos mockingly, grinning unabashedly at the sight of Soobin’s face twisting up in anger; he turns to you, placing a slow, lingering kiss on your cheek before he murmurs softly into your ear. “My flower, don’t you want to show him how perfect you are for me?” 

Beomgyu doesn’t expect a response from you; the way you whine and shift restlessly against him is enough, having already felt him rutting against you the moment he had you caged against the counter— and he continues to do so, even now, the hand on your throat forcing you to tilt your head, allowing him access to suck and bite on the clean canvas of your skin; your eyes flutter shut, and you’re left to rely on his strength to hold you upright, body rocking gently with every thrust that is delivered from the wolf behind you. 

“So sweet for me,” Beomgyu groans, his hands letting go of their respective places before they begin getting busy; your legs feel shaky and you’re left to watch as he undoes the ties of your coat, slipping it off before he reaches to bunch your thin skirt at your waist— you gasp softly, face heating up at the feeling of being so exposed, hands flying to pull down your skirt on instinct— but you’re granted no such reprieve, stilling immediately as a growl leaves Beomgyu’s lips at your action.

Soobin’s head is snapping back at the two of you at the sound of the threat— his eyes widen and he inhales sharply, a clear mistake that only makes Beomgyu grin— your scent, thick and progressively needier, clouds Soobin’s mind, clouds his judgment, unable to do anything more than stare at the way Beomgyu has you in his arms, canines still glittering under the soft lights of your home as a constant warning. 

“You smell it too,” Beomgyu speaks, his words less of a question and more of a fact— Soobin’s eyes dilate and his nostrils flare that moment Beomgyu’s lithe fingers begin to wander around the hem of your panties, feeling your thighs press together and your hands grip at his forearm shyly; from Soobin’s distance, he’s able to pick up on the tears that hang on your waterline, the way your lip quivers from the humiliation of being exposed so crudely. 

“Innocent thing…” Beomgyu murmurs, dipping down to swipe the pad of his middle finger across your slit, listening to the yelp that escapes your lips, feeling your body buckle against him— and sure enough, a spike of your scent follows after, like an addicting toxin that only fuels the desire of the two canines before you, “So tempting. So good.” 

You’re crying softly at the way he continues to tease you, overwhelmed by the foreign sensation, mouth parting in shock as his hand sneaks past the waistband of your panties; you feel as though shocks of electricity flow through you the moment he brushes against your clit, teasingly at first, only to begin circling it steadily soon after— and you can only moan and whine for more, unknowingly bucking your hips forward in search for something else that can satisfy you. 

When your eyes meet Soobin’s, you can only feel a hot wave of shame flow through you— his expression is unreadable; is he embarrassed of you? Disgusted, ashamed that you have already given in to the simplest threats? You’re not remotely near as strong as he is, you defend yourself mentally, you’re sure that it was either this or— or…

“You filthy mutt,” Beomgyu spits out beside you, laughing softly at the way Soobin has yet to take his eyes off you, eyes narrowed meanly and brows tugged together, an expression that could be easily read as rage— but Beomgyu knows better, watching as the said man jumps at the sudden sound of the other’s voice, gaze hardening the moment they lock eyes; Beomgyu huffs out another mocking laugh. 

“You like this, don’t you?” Beomgyu asks, as though he were sharing a secret— behind you, you feel his hips buck against you, able to feel the hardness of his cock as he uses his free hand to press just below your navel, forcing you back on him— and you gasp, his ministrations against your clit never ceasing as he continues to fuck against you slowly, groaning breathlessly at the feeling of your warm body against him; Beomgyu’s eyes never leave Soobin’s, however, pupils filled with nothing but a mocking joy as he continues breathlessly.

“You want her.”

Another wave of arousal floods though you at his words, filling the room and reaching the two men before you with ease; you’re able to see and feel the way their chests rise slowly, the way they take in your essence before letting out pleased sighs, their own strong, heady scents filling your senses as you simply flutter your eyes shut and whine with need.

“No need to deny it,” Beomgyu grins, leaning his head against yours fondly, middle finger abandoning your clit to tease your entrance, your mouth falling open and hips twitching in surprise at the feeling— the man behind you simply watches with amusement, watches the way you meet Soobin’s gaze shyly, body heated up with embarrassment as you can only let out pathetic cries and breathless gasps with every new stimulation— and Beomgyu’s finger enters you slowly, meticulously, angling himself just right; your vision is fogging at the stretch, hands gripping onto the strong forearm that helps keep your upright as you merely beg for more. 

“I’m sure she’d love to give you a show,” he continues, palm pressing against your clit, other hand guiding your hips to roll steadily against his hand— he chuckles softly at the way you’re pliant for him, following his every command without a second thought, “filthy, greedy thing.” 

Though Beomgyu directs those comments at you with a voice of acid-like hatred, the way he stares at you is anything but; his eyes are just as keen as the rest of him, willing to not miss a single reaction you make for him, from the way your voice breaks with need to the way your fingers twitch helplessly against his skin— his body buzzes with a desperate energy, his cock pulsing and begging to be inside you the longer he feels you rock helplessly against him— lucky for him, you seem to be getting just as desperate. 

“Get your filthy hands off her,” Soobin seethes, though he’s unable to make a move to get you away— a single twitch of his tail enough to garner a harsh sneer from Beomgyu, teeth snapping together in warning— the idea of having you claimed, taken, and possibly killed by the monstrosity that holds you hostage is enough to keep Soobin complacent for now, undoubtedly waiting for the moment the wolf no longer has easy access to such a vital part of you to make his move.

Beomgyu doesn’t heed the other’s comment— if anything, he laughs, prodding a second finger at your entrance, forcing the other to listen to the way you perk up and cry in panic, poor inexperienced body not used to the stretch, to the curve of his fingers as he presses against your soaking, tightening walls, calloused skin making you shiver as he forces you to grind against him, to fuck yourself on his fingers. 

“Hmm? Don’t touch her?” Beomgyu asks, curious fingers stretching you open slowly, grinning at the way you throw your head back against his shoulder and whine, a hand slapping over the arm that currently fucks your slowly, pressing against it in feeble attempts of getting more, “What, does it upset you that you won’t be getting to her first?” 

With a particularly calculated thrust of Beomgyu’s fingers, you’re jolting up and letting out a broken moan; he proceeds to continue to abuse the weak spot within you cruelly, watching with an amused gaze as you continue to fall apart against him like clockwork. You’re getting wound up quite quickly, not used to the intense feeling of pleasure being provided to you— and Beomgyu takes in the sight eagerly, smiling in amusement before he’s stopping abruptly, watching your head hang and your chest heave from the sudden loss of stimulation. 

“Does it anger you?” his fingers slide out from your cunt slowly; you twitch at the feeling of emptiness, barely processing the way his hand slowly snakes its way back up, grabbing at your neck and forcing you to look forward again— his fingers, covered in your arousal, prod at your mouth, and in your dumbed state, you can only follow his commands and part your lips dutifully; your tongue circles around his digits and your lips close around them, flushed face painting a lewd scene that only makes Soobin tense; beside you, Beomgyu smiles wickedly. 

“Knowing that you’re about to watch her get fucked open— get knotted good— by a wolf?” 

Soobin thinks he might be seeing red at this point; his hands remain by his side, closed into a tight fist that has his nails threatening to break through his skin— but that’s the least of his worries, especially with the way your ears twitch and your body perks up at the wolf’s words— both of the men are able to pick up on your reaction with ease, one clearly much happier than the other at the sight. 

“You know, if you behave, I might give you a turn.” Beomgyu looks over at you, chuckling softly before he removes his fingers from your mouth, only to grab at your face and turn it roughly to look at him; his fingers dig into your cheeks and his forehead presses against yours, taking one glance at your hazy expression before he’s cooing softly. “I’m sure you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

All you can do is muster a broken whine in response. 

Beomgyu is letting go of your face with a soft chuckle; slowly, you muster the courage to look forward once more, inevitably meeting Soobin’s gaze as a result— his expression is unreadable, and it makes your knees feel weak— your mind races to try and decipher what he may be thinking about, left unaware of the way Beomgyu has let go of your dress, letting the skirt fall slowly over your front as he busies himself in lifting it from the back instead, allowing himself access and grazing your skin curiously; it is only then that you’re coming back to your senses, heart rate picking up with a panic and body bristling the moment you feel the wolf’s hands wandering across the swell of your ass, muttering soft praise that doesn’t quite reach you— a firm hand grabs at your waist, keeping you in place the moment you tried to shift away from him shyly, tried to cover yourself with a weak protests that only garnered yet another growl; with wide eyes, you looked to Soobin, unaware of the helplessness that coated your glassy pupils. 

“Soobin,” you cry yet again, blood growing cold at the way he simply seems to stand and watch; his gaze seems to have wandered, seems to have been following Beomgyu’s every action, adam’s apple bobbing at the sudden sound of impact that filled the room, the sound of your yelp followed by the sight of your pathetic hands attempting to swat Beomgyu away, easily overpowered the moment the wolf gathers your wrists in his tight hold and scolds you to stay still, his claws digging threateningly into the soft skin— and again, your head whips back around to look at Soobin, ignoring the keen stance of his ears and the slow, interested sway of his tail as you simply call out to him again, “Soobin, please…”

You’re not sure what you’re begging for any more. All you know now is the feeling of Beomgyu’s broad chest pressed against yours, the muddy feeling of your brain as smoke fills your lungs, allowing your head to loll back against his shoulder, allowing your hips to begin to grind back against the hard bulge that has begun to tease you, shivering softly at the way Beomgyu’s head remains buried in your shoulder, pulling you back against him firmly— you barely register the way your voice whines in protest the moment you feel his lips pull away from your delicate skin, abandoning the gentle kisses and sucks to sneer triumphantly, his low voice a half-hearted replica of yours as he proceeds to parrot your words softly. 

“Soobin…” Beomgyu sing-songs, reaching his free hand down to tug at the waistband of your panties, soaked through with arousal that leaves your inner thighs shining pathetically; the said man is snapped out of his trance immediately, enticed gaze hardening the second his eyes find Beomgyu, chin perched on your shoulder leisurely as he continues to tug your panties down, feeling the way they slip down your hips ever-so slowly, “Soobin, come here.”

When Soobin refuses, Beomgyu scoffs— though, he doesn’t seem to be surprised in the slightest. 

“Come on Soobin,” Beomgyu repeats again, softly this time, eyes half-lidded as his mouth dips down to kiss your skin; right at your scent gland, tongue darting out before his eyes dart up to lock eyes with Soobin— you can feel goosebumps form on your skin as Beomgyu laughs breathily, mouth still open as he proceeds to nip at the spot gently; not enough to break skin, not enough to leave a mark, but enough to make you squeal and jolt in surprise. Soobin flinches. 

“Come.”

It takes a pleading look from your tear-brimmed eyes for him to move. A slow, hesitant step first, pausing momentarily to gauge Beomgyu’s reaction— the said man quirks a brow in amusement, a silent encouragement to continue— and Soobin finally finds himself looming over the two of you, eyes dark and narrowed as he watches you reach out for him with a trembling hand— curling his shirt into your fists, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his chest, body unintentionally arched forward and left in the perfect position for the man behind you— Beomgyu simply coos softly at the action, a false sense of endearment that makes Soobin’s teeth grit with rage; when their eyes meet, the wolf simply smiles. 

“Kiss her,” Beomgyu says, the words almost inaudible from how softly they were uttered— but then he’s grabbing at your head and forcing you to look back up, ignoring the sound of protest you make and holding you up by your jaw as he tilts your head to look at Soobin, fingers squeezing your cheeks and forcing them into a soft pout, “Go on. She’s dying for you to touch her.”

Beomgyu speaks as though he were the one in control of your body and mind— and perhaps he is, you find yourself thinking, teary eyes unable to communicate anything more than want as you feel your panties slowly dragging down your thighs, the wolf behind you hissing softly at the sight of the string of arousal that sticks to the fabric, your slick cunt tightening around nothing in response— Beomgyu’s fingers find themselves teasing your entrance again, three this time, dipping in and out of your cunt, stretching you yet leaving you craving for more.

“I…” Soobin breathes out, reaching out slowly for your face; Beomgyu’s rough hand retreats, and it’s replaced by Soobin’s large, gentle ones that cup your face and stroke your cheekbones, watching the way your eyes flutter up to look at him, tears clinging to your lashes like crystals; his eyes follow the path one makes as it falls, thumb wiping it away softly as he finds himself leaning closer, watches the way your lids fall and leave your eyes hazy and obedient.

This is it, Soobin realizes, eyes flickering back to where Beomgyu continues to tease you, much too lost in the sight of your cunt trying desperately to suck in his nimble fingers to pay much attention to the two of you, this is his chance— he can save you. 

You seem to catch onto Soobin’s calculative gaze quite quickly this time— and your heart flutters with a slight hope, your chest falling in quick, shallow breaths as your hands tighten against the fabric of his shirt— his eyes flicker back to yours from the action, taking in the way they hold that innocent light of yours he’s always adored— and his heart breaks. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. 

There’s nothing you can say to that; his lips are on yours before you can so much as let out another breath. They’re soft, hesitant, as though you could shatter if he touched you wrong. His hands shake slightly as he holds your face close to his, feels the way your mouth remains frozen for a second, only reciprocating once you’ve felt the soft pass of his tongue against you— and your overwhelmed mind blanks entirely. For the final time tonight, you submit. 

The kiss is slow, it’s deepening out of your control, and it’s everything you imagined many moons ago, when you first began to feel a spark of desire for the man before you— when you swooned and flustered at the comfort you found in him, the warm feeling that always settled in your chest when he was next to you, knowing you could always go to him for protection. 

So as you feel his hold on you become firmer, feel the way he sighs against your mouth with no intentions to let you go soon, you wonder what it is you feel now— trapped between the two canines, lungs burning and and mouth left open as you allow Soobin to venture inside, not allowed any reprieve from the man who keeps you close, a soft groan leaving your lips as your sensitive ears pick up on foreign, slick sounds behind you, hisses and sighs of pleasure from another— because the feeling that pools in your stomach isn’t remotely reminiscent of the gentle, delicate warmth you always felt around Soobin; it’s hotter, angrier, greedier— it begs to be satiated and throws away the last good sense of judgment you had within you. 

“Soobin— oh god, Soobin—” you hiccup suddenly, finally able to escape from the said man’s mouth that seems to chase endlessly after yours; even now, you still can’t help but cry for him, your body unprepared for the sudden feeling of a cockhead swiping at your slit, the wet noises that arise from the sheer arousal that continues to leak out of you. You cry and you beg with hot shame burning at your skin, unsure of whether you plead for mercy or for more— your body arches and your hips seek for more, cunt throbbing at the feeling of Beomgyu’s tip pressing at your entrance, his rough hands rubbing circles along your ass absentmindedly, but your heart twists and makes a thick lump build in your throat, wishing nothing more than to be experiencing this all differently, in the comfort of your room and in the secure, warm embrace of the man in front of you— you wish for something more intimate, something as gentle as the love you felt. 

But all Soobin does is watch. He strokes your hair with a slow hand and cups your cheek fondly, presses a lingering kiss to your forehead before wandering down to press another at the tip of your nose— and he soaks up the pitiful sounds that make your voice break, feeling your hands attempt to steady themselves against him as Beomgyu begins to enter you; slowly, salivating at the way he feels your walls stretch around him, struggling to adjust to merely the tip— he stares down at your dripping pussy with a parted mouth, letting out a slow breath at the sight of your legs that threaten to buckle and your fluffy tail that goes wild with every inch he eases in— and he finds himself having to take deep breaths to not take you as he wants then and there.

“It’s okay. I know, I know— I’m right here, I’m right here with you,” Soobin murmurs against your skin, placing slow kisses along your jaw, allowing you to duck into the crook of his neck for solace— and he smooths your hair as he feels you nuzzle into him, eyes hooking onto the sight over your shoulder of Beomgyu entering you, the feeling of his hips flush against your ass bringing about another shuddered sigh from your lips, nails digging into Soobin’s chest as you attempt to overcome the new sensations. 

“I got you, don’t worry my doll,” Soobin utters, a hand going to place itself on top of your own, intertwining his fingers with yours before he begins to weigh it down, to guide it down his chest— he lets out a shaky sigh, feeling you cry and squirm against him, “It’s okay… just relax and you’ll feel good, okay?” 

“Don’t you wanna feel good?” Soobin coos against your temple, eyes fluttering shut as he feels you nod against his shoulder, feels the way your hand has successfully breached past his underwear, pants already undone and still guided by his much larger hand as he brings you to palm him slowly, wrapping your shaky fingers around his length; you’re hesitant, unsure of your actions as you allow Soobin to show you what to do— though, you don’t think your brain has truly processed what he’s doing with you yet, preoccupied instead by the thick smoke along with another smell that leaves you feeling lightheaded, along with the feeling of hands groping and smoothing over your skin as a heavy cock continues to twitch inside you. 

Beomgyu isn’t quite fond by your sudden shift of attention; his lips remain upturned in distaste, watching intently as Soobin continues to use you however he likes, your face that remains hidden in his neck directly able to smell the calming, dizzying scent Soobin exudes, placating you and dumbing you down to nothing but a fuckdoll for him— his eyes trail down to where he has you jerking him off slowly, Soobin’s lips pressing kisses to the top of your head as he continues to murmur soft praises that have you melting against him— an unfamiliar, hot streak of rage courses through Beomgyu’s system at the sight. 

“So ungrateful,” Beomgyu scolds suddenly, reaching forward to grab a fistful of your hair and bring you back— he’s forceful, uncaring of the way you protest, an arm that’s wrapped around your stomach pressing you flush against him as he forces the two of you to move— and you’re left bent over the counter, face pressed against the wood and wrists secured behind your back as Beomgyu bunches the skirt of your dress at your hips and bottoms out inside you once again; you hiss at the feeling, looking to the side to see that Soobin is unfazed by the action— if anything, his eyes cloud with lust at the scene before him, taking in the way you’re stuffed full and arched prettily with a gulp. 

“Why won’t you pay attention to me?” Beomgyu asks breathlessly, looking down at your pliant figure with blown out eyes, tail whipping side to side in anger as he catches the way your gaze still seeks out Soobin’s, eyes unknowingly pleading for reassurance— and he growls, low and heavy in his throat, catching the attention of both of you successfully— but he only cares to have your eyes on him, fully engrossed in the way your mouth falls open and your eyes roll back the moment he ruts into you with rough, slow thrusts. 

“Look at me,” Beomgyu groans, pulling out slowly as he speaks, all the way out until the tip of his cock is the only thing catching at your entrance. You’re squirming, trying to move your hips back against him, but the brutal hold Beomgyu has on you keeps you in place; ears pressed flat against your head, you look over your shoulder, back at the wolf who continues to fuck his tip into you with subtle thrusts, sneering at your glassy eyes that continue to look at him with a jarring innocence. 

“That’s right,” he breathes, sinking into you oh so slowly, filling you up and laughing cruelly at the way your hands scramble to hold onto something for stability, for a simple comfort Beomgyu denies, “Eyes on me.” 

Beomgyu fucks you to prove a point; he fucks you so your eyes roll back and your mouth spills moans and whines dumbly, cock filling you to the brim and stretching you out in a way you never knew was possible— the sounds are lewd and has your skin burning, slick, wet sounds of skin against skin filling up the room and mixing along with your cries of pleasure. Beomgyu doesn’t seem to be doing any better than you, transfixed entirely on the sight of your cunt sucking him in eagerly, dripping with slick that makes his cock shine and falls to the floor in a mess, of your ass that ripples with every smack of his hips against you— this is all so new to you, he can tell, your body buzzing with an insatiable need that turns you into nothing more than a cock-hungry whore, your tail wiggling desperately with every harsh thrust of his, as though hypnotizing him to keep going.

The sight of you— a drooling, crying, moaning mess— is the polar opposite of your sweet, naive self, your trusting self that got you into this situation in the first place— and it makes Soobin’s cock twitch with raw lust, the spectacle of you becoming ruined so easily something he never thought he’d witness; such a pure thing, Soobin always felt as though you needed to be treated like glass— but Beomgyu is more than willing to prove that’s not the case with you, growling pure filth at you as he continues to fuck you into the counter, watching the way he hovers over you, practically caging you in with his body, as though wishing for the two of you to become one. And just like before, Soobin watches. He stands to the side and listens to every sweet mewl of yours attentively— after all, he’ll get his hands on you soon enough.

“Tight little cunt— fuckin’ takes me so well,” Beomgyu murmurs into your ear, panting and groaning at the way you tighten around him, “such a good girl for me— shit, you like that? Like it when I talk nice to you?”

Beomgyu is quick to catch onto every little reaction of yours, including the way you tighten hopelessly around him every time he sings soft praises into your ears; it makes you want to hide your face in shame and deny his questions, but you barely get a chance to speak with the way he fucks you— fat cock stretching you out, leaving you speechless as he continues to pound into you firmly, sloppy mouth nipping and marking all over your neck; feeling him on your shoulders and back, canines brutishly ripping at your clothes to get more access to your innocent skin, feeling the way your walls squeeze with every scratch of his sharp teeth against you, eager to get his lips onto any part of you he can. 

“Fuck, fuckfuckfuck, you’re— shit– you’re squeezing me so tight, can barely fuck you,” he rambles off, hand letting go of your wrists so he can grab your hips and pull you back onto him— you’re wailing at the feeling, hands failing to stabilize you as you hold onto the counter, eyes screwed shut as you babble at Beomgyu to slow down— but of course, he doesn’t listen, too caught up in the feeling of you to pay any attention, “Oh, are you close, sweet thing? I can feel you— can feel you getting closer.”

“Do you wanna cum?” He asks you in that same, sweet voice laced with faux pity, smiling unabashedly at the way you immediately nod in response, giving in to his brutal pace, “tell me how bad you want it then.” 

“Please… please let me…” you trail off, unable to communicate properly with the way Beomgyu continues to fuck you, not granting you any mercy as he watches you struggle, “need– need t’cum, want it, feels so good.” 

Beomgyu laughs, the sound labored and breathy from the way you clench around him throughout it; he finds himself glancing over to where Soobin continues to watch, the sight of him focused entirely on your figure making him sneer— his eyes are hypnotized by you and his ears twitch at every weak word that spills from your mouth, lips parted as he all but drools for you— the drastic contrast in character has Beomgyu’s lips twitching in amusement, wondering just where that overprotective bodyguard of yours has gone.

“Yeah? Am I making you feel good?” he mocks, watching as your bowed head nods instantly; he huffs, glancing back at Soobin before he coos softly at you, “Who’s making you feel so nice? Tell me, pretty thing.”

The sudden mention of the pet name is enough to set you off unexpectedly; your mind goes blank entirely, save for a single thought that continues to roll of your tongue like a mantra: 

“Beomgyu,” you cry, sobs wracking at your body from the intense feeling, your voice interrupted with loud, uncontrollable moans, “You— it’s you– Beomgyu— please, please— too much…!”

Beomgyu continues to fuck you until your legs tremble and your body weight is placed entirely on the counter, hips held up entirely by the strength of the man behind you as he finally heeds your pleas; he slows until he’s bottomed out inside you, feeling the way your walls continue to pulse as you whimper quietly at the sensitivity— such a touchy thing, Beomgyu muses to himself, looking down at your messy cunt and feeling the way his cock twitches, still in need to fill you up properly.

“Can’t take anymore?” Beomgyu asks apathetically— and though you weakly let out a sound of affirmation, you can tell he doesn’t really care to hear your answer; not with the way he strokes at your skin in fascination, wandering hand pulling at the base of your tail and watching you squeal in surprise, body arching in an attempt to get away— you all but slump into a pool of overstimulation once he finally lets you go, foggy mind barely able to pick up the way he tsks. 

“Don’t lie— you can, I’m sure you can,” Beomgyu tuts, watching with amusement as you pout and petulantly shake your head, “you’re a good girl, you can take whatever we give you.” 

You don’t seem to process the meaning of his words to a full extent— you’re too far gone to do so, body turned weak as you continue to try and stabilize yourself, chest heaving with every breath you take. But it doesn’t matter if you’ve caught on to what’s happening around you, your every movement taken care of by the two men that cage you in— your shudder at the feeling of Beomgyu pulling out of you, the slick sound drowned out by the crude praises Beomgyu growls; two, strong hands are pulling you up next, proceeding to maneuver you so you sit on the counter— Soobin stands between your legs, looking at you with eyes filled with want and an undeniable pity; he takes in your worn, marked and messy figure intently, watching as his eyes linger on the rips of your dress and the marks all around your shoulders. His hands go up to the area, and your eyes flutter shut, body craving to be covered, to be coddled and tidied. 

“Such a perfect doll for me,” Soobin sighs out, beginning to tug down at what’s left of the material, watching the way you shudder and open your eyes with a slight shock— a whine bubble up at the back of your throat, but you can’t really find the strength to protest the way you’re slowly left undressed before the two pairs of hungry eyes before you, no longer able to find the energy to feel embarrassment from being left bare— Soobin’s voice is as gentle as his movements, feeling him lift your hips so he can slide the dress off you properly; it wasn’t very hard to do anyway, the fabric practically hanging together by a single thread, “It’s alright… I’ve got you.” 

When Soobin wraps your legs around his waist and hoists you off the counter, you can only wrap your arms around his shoulders and lean your forehead on his shoulder, seeking for more of the scent that calms you down and leaves you mindless; your grip tightens the moment you feel the head of his cock poking at your entrance, painfully hard as he sighs out shakily at the feeling of your sensitive walls fluttering at the feeling— he’s stretching you out slowly, filling you up, and all you can do is bury your head into his neck and try to calm your breathing, taking in the thick sage that fills your senses.

Soobin stays buried deep inside you for a moment, cursing at the tight embrace of your heat around him; you allow yourself to relax— it doesn’t last long though, body jolting with shocks as you feel another head poking at your already stuffed cunt. 

“Wait— wait– I can’t— too full, it won’t fit…!” you cry out, looking at Soobin in a panic; a broad chest pressed firmly against your back, familiar lips pressing a chaste kiss to your shoulder— Soobin’s eyes are dark as he takes you in, ears forward and twitching at your pleas; softly, he shakes his head in reassurance.

“You can,” is all Soobin murmurs, watching your face twist as Beomgyu begins to push into you— little by little, stretching you past your limits, resting his chin on your shoulder and shutting his eyes at the sensitive feeling— tears stream down your cheeks freely, soft hiccups escaping you as Beomgyu’s hips press flush against you from behind; Soobin reaches up to caress your head, to pet gently at your ears, and smiles. “See? You’re doing so well. You can take it.”

You shake your head to refute his claims— but it’s not as though that would change the way they’ve begun to slowly pull out, setting their individual paces that inevitably work together, leaving you full no matter what— and it has your head falling back, mouth falling open dumbly as they begin to fuck you; slowly at first, gently, only because your poor cunt has yet to adjust to the size of them. But once they feel the way you leak onto them, the way your cunt begins to clench as their tips ram into places that have your eyes rolling to the back of your head, they begin to find the confidence to use you how they want. 

Eventually, you’re nothing but putty in their arms; weakly grabbing onto anything you can for support, one finding a firm grip onto Soobin’s shoulder as the other ventured to tangle itself in Beomgyu’s hair— the said man continues to keep his head buried in your neck, lips having a mind of their own as he continues to nose at your scent gland; the action of him nuzzling against it, of him scenting you, is enough to have you a whining mess, fingers tugging at his hair desperately; it only serves to have him fuck into you harder, hips snapping ruthlessly against yours and rough groans escaping him from the pleasure. 

“Fuck, such a good cunt, so tight— ah,” Soobin groans, watching as your eyes flutter open to look at him, teary and catching the moonlight that shines down through the window; he cups your cheek, stroking at your cheekbone fondly as he speaks, “so pretty… you’re so pretty, all I’ve ever wanted— god, you’re perfect.”

The look of adoration Soobin gives you isn’t lost on you entirely— but there’s something else that rears its head within his gaze, hungry and desperate, threatening to swallow you whole— and you realize that, for the first time ever, Soobin seems to be staring at you as though you were nothing but prey; something for him to claim and own. 

But it seems as though he’s not the only one who possesses those particular feelings— Beomgyu’s pace seems to be growing erratic behind you, knocking you forward against Soobin’s chest and leaving you to wail at the feeling of his cock ruthlessly pounding into you, uncaring of the rhythm the other has set in place; he mumbles gruff words against your neck, but it’s all muffled and interrupted by huffed out moans he lets out in between— but your poor cunt seems to catch onto what he might be saying quite clearly. 

“C-close, oh shit, ‘m so close,” Beomgyu says, finally perking up from his place in the crook of your neck to speak directly into your ear, placing sloppy kisses at your jaw as he does, “Ah, d’you feel that? Yeah? Want me to cum inside you?”

You know what his question really entails— you know what your answer should be. But your body simply trembles and your brain short circuits at the thought, traitorous to the last bits of reasoning within you as you dumbly nod at his request; he lets out a moan at the sight. 

“Yeah, you do, don’t you? Want my knot, wanna be bred— ffffuck, I’ll give it to you, I’ll knot you, make you mine,” his every movement has become erratic; Soobin finds it hard to continue fucking you, undeniably sensitive to the harsh pace the other has set— but Beomgyu doesn’t care, leaning in close to your ear to whisper his next words. 

“I’ll claim you,” he breathes out, enjoying the way your little tail thrashes against him at the sound, panic filling your tone for a second before you melt into the idea, too fucked out to be able to refuse anymore— if anything, you tighten like a vice around the two, bringing out sensitive sounds from the two; Beomgyu continues to ramble into your ear, much bolder now that he’s taken control of the situation. 

“You want it— oh fuck, yeah, you’ll make such a pretty mate, all for me,” he growls, his words slipping to the other’s ears and alerting him, his eyes widening yet his pace not stopping, “all mine— mine, mine mine— o-oh, shit—!”

It all happens so fast. The swelling of a knot inside you, stretching you out to the point where you find yourself sobbing, pawing at whatever you can and begging for them to slow down, to be gentle— hot cum fills you, your cunt only able to handle so much as Soobin’s cock is pushed out, just enough so his own knot doesn’t catch, his orgasm triggering immediately after— it’s so much, yet it’s not enough, your whole being pulsing with desire for the final thing to push you to the edge— and it comes in the form of sharp canines digging deep into your neck. 

The right side of your neck stings— then, your left. Two sets of teeth have found their home within your skin, the last of your freedom stripped away as your orgasm swallows you whole— you tremble and you twitch within their hold, cunt filled and leaking with their cum, unable to do anything more than lie within their embrace and take what they give you. 

Your eyes feel heavy; you will yourself to stay awake, but your vision becomes spotted within moments— for the first time in a while, your mind is able to find peace.

 ≪ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆≫  

When you finally wake, you find yourself surrounded by warmth; with heavy blankets over your figure, you’re able to recognize the place as your room. You attempt to look around, but are immediately met with a searing pain— the night’s events flood through your mind all at once, and suddenly, you’re able to sense the presence of two others next to you; their arms wrap around you and they remain glued to your side, one embrace much more familiar than the other. 

Through your line of sight, you’re able to spot the moon that peaks through your window, hovering just above the dark, looming canopy of the forest. You stare and you stare, unsure of what to make of everything— of what you’re feeling, of the bodies that shift beside you, pulling you closer to them, as though it could never be enough. 

Your eyes sting, and after a second, you find yourself mourning. Mourning for your loss of freedom, for the overwhelming amount of sensations you were put through, and for this complex, dangerous situation you’ve been thrust into. 

You were warned of the forest; you were warned that nothing good came from venturing within. 

But even then, nothing could have saved you from the creatures that roamed beyond.

[normatural]

Echoes of Souls | A.T

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

Summary: In the old, abandoned castle, she found a love letter addressed to her, written by someone who died a century ago.

Word Count: 1.121

A/N: Feedback is always welcome. English isn't my first language so excuse any mistakes but feel free to point them out to help me improve.

Chapter 1: Echoes of a Forgotten Past

The old castle stood quiet and forgotten on the outskirts of King’s Landing, its once-glorious exterior now a ghostly relic of the past. Long vines of ivy climbed its weathered walls, making it appear almost as if nature had attempted to reclaim the abandoned structure. Shutters banged against cracked windows, held only by rusty, old hinges, while the wind whistled mournfully through the broken panes. Even the birds seemed to shun the place, their songs the only absence in an otherwise haunted landscape.

It was this eerie, magnetic pull that had drawn you here—a sense of familiarity combined with an insatiable curiosity for between all the projects the company allowed you to choose, this was the one that stood out for you. As you walked through the creaky front doors into the sprawling foyer, you were struck by the imposing architecture, which still held a sliver of its former grandeur. Your footsteps echoed softly against the hardwood floor as you moved through the house, your fingers lightly grazing the banister of the grand staircase.

A sense of déjà vu washed over you. You paused, trying to pinpoint the origin of this haunting familiarity. Why did every corridor, every room, seem like it held a secret, a memory just out of reach? It was as if you had been here before in another life, another time. But that was impossible—or was it?

As night fell, the castle’s eerie charm only deepened. You made your way back to the trailer with the delivery you had ordered. The moonlight casts silver shadows through the window. Exhaustion soon claimed you after dinner, and you drifted into a deep, dream-filled sleep.

In your dream, the world was different—brighter, more vibrant. Standing on the verdant grounds of the palace, it was no longer an abandoned relic. It was alive, bustling with people, laughter, and the roar of dragons. The skies above were filled with the majestic creatures, their wings casting shadows on the cobblestone pathways below.

You looked down at yourself, your attire reflecting a time long past. Rich fabrics and intricate embroidery adorned your gown, and your hair seemed to be styled in the fashion of nobility. Heart swelled with emotions you couldn’t explain as you walked through the manicured gardens of the castle, the very same one that looked like a dried jungle just moments ago. Everything feels uncannily familiar.

Suddenly, you felt a pang in your heart. A strange vibration in your chest. And then saw him. Your breath caught as you took in the sight of him. His tall, statuesque form was cloaked in regal hues, the fabric of his attire moving subtly with each of his graceful movements. He reached out to touch a blossom, his long fingers brushing the petals with unexpected tenderness, and in that moment, you felt as though she was witnessing a secret part of his soul.

His face, chiseled and strong, held a serene intensity. The angles of his jaw and the line of his nose were softened by the play of light and shadow, creating a portrait that was both striking and ethereal. But it was his eyes that truly made you hold your breath. Piercing violet, it seemed to see right through the world and into the very essence of things. When his gaze shifted and met yours, you felt an electric thrill course through your veins, as if his eyes held the power to unravel your very being.

Slowly, a rare, faint smile touched his lips, transforming his face with a warmth that contrasted beautifully with his otherwise austere demeanor. The sight of that smile, so fleeting yet so profound, made your heart ache with an inexplicable longing.

Something inside you is alarming that the man standing a few meters from you is the very same from the letter whose words haven’t left your mind. Aemond Targaryen.

His silver hair glinted in the sunlight, and his piercing violet eye, filled with a depth of emotion you instantly recognized, locked onto you. He approached with a look of tender resolve, his footsteps confident and deliberate.

“Vaela,” he called you, a name from your past life that felt both foreign and intimate. Familiar. “I was waiting for you. Walk with me.”

You nodded, heart fluttering with a mixture of excitement and calm, and took his offered arm. Something inside you told you to stop staring but how could you avert your eyes from his figure when it was making your heart beat so fast? You strolled through the garden, the scent of blooming roses enveloping you, the sound of dragon wings beating in sync with your heartbeat.

“I have something important to ask you,” Aemond began, his voice steady yet soft. He led you to a secluded alcove where the garden’s flowers seemed to bloom more brightly. He turned to face you, taking both your hands in his. “I have loved you from the moment we met. In you, I found my heart’s true desire, a soul that mirrors my own. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, the emotions flooding through you from both the past and present. Why was your heart-warming so abruptly at his words? Why did they sound so familiar? How the answer seemed to wish to jump out of your lips so quickly. Aemond was strange after all. Perhaps something is created just in your mind. But it couldn’t be, could it?

“Yes, Aemond,” you whispered, your voice trembling with joy. “I will.”

His smile, rare and sincere, was a sight that imprinted itself deeply into your memory. Wishing you could see it again. He lifted one of your hands to his lips, your knuckles being touched so softly and yet intimately by them as his violet eye seemed to stare deep into yours.

You awoke with a start, the remnants of the dream lingering in your mind like the last notes of a haunting melody. You could still smell the scent of the flowers. Feel the touch of his lips on your skin. You realized in that moment that your journey here was no accident. The castle, the dreams, Aemond—they were pieces of a puzzle you were destined to uncover. Meant to find.

Clutching the blanket tighter around you, you knew the first light of day would bring with it a new resolve. You would unravel the past, discover the hidden secrets of this place, and understand why destiny had led you here. There ought to be answers somewhere in those walls. It was not just an abandoned relic; it was a bridge to your past, a testament to a love that had defied time itself.

+

taglist: @donut-seam @strangersunghoon @teasweeter @darktrashsoulbear

[killakalx]

17+ content, happy pride month to me :)

vines and beautiful patterns of greenery bloom around you at the expense of your pride, kneeling before poison ivy and melting into the gentle hand caressing your face. there’s no thought behind your eyes other than the intoxicating smell she secretes, red strands of hair flowing and falling over her face, precious petals and threatening thorns framing a gorgeous being. no thought behind your yearning eyes other than who you’ve concluded to be aphrodite herself.

“ivy,” you whine between kisses along her thigh, “let me. please.” her scent takes a hold of you, almost like your words aren’t your own, though you’re sure they aren’t too far off from your usual talk. clearly, it was a mistake to think you’d be exempt from her tactics.

“aw, but your mission,” she teases, legs opening and letting your mouth trail further up. her feigned concern for your original plans makes you whine out of impatience, as the thought had left your mind long ago. but thinking of any responsibility outside of this ache hurts right now. “you don’t wanna disappoint your friends, right?”

“I don’t wanna disappoint you,” the words quickly follow hers, correcting the foolish implication that anything else could occupy you right now.

“far from it,” ivy assures you. the affirmation has you salivating, effortlessly guiding you up her body. a hand pulls at your hair to bring your gaze to hers. “come closer, hm? closer to my face.” you follow through without hesitation, a needy hand palming her chest as the other finds refuge behind her neck. your eyes linger on her lips and begin to admire the smile of control that falls onto ivy’s face, leaving yours to attempt words of desperation. “aht,” ivy’s finger shushes you.

“pamela,” you manage a pathetic plea over the barrier she’s created, “i feel like i’ll die without- just… please, pamela.”

“i’ll satiate you, sweet thing,” she comforts you and allows all distance to close between your bodies, feeling enveloped in vines and roses before she feeds your craving. a hushed and feeble thank you is lost between your lips as they meet hers, leading a wave of ecstasy through your body. you cling to her like a lifeline and she huffs an apathetic laugh at the pliancy, forcing a slow pace as her tongue tangles with yours.

the kiss is deeper than anything you’ve had with anyone else, drawing you impossibly further into a sanctuary resembling the garden of eden. what started as one bite quickly descends to indulging yourself in the entirety of the orchard, as if her means of relieving this ache hide the intention of pulling you further inside until the gate’s out of sight. ‘satiate you’, pamela insinuates, yet the attempt of such an idea leaves you insatiable.

[celtic-hobo]

So I've seen some stuff on here about the idea of "cryptid batman", and I'd like to bring something to the table.

there is a concept in DC comics called The Green, a fundamental energy that controls plant life, this is where Poison Ivy gets a big chunk of her power. Now where my point comes in is the fact that this isn't the only one of these forces, such as the clear, or the red, so it could be feasible that there are more we are unaware of.

Now we can speak on the hypothetical concept of The Dark, and The Bat-Man being it's champion, after all these forces choose champions based on aligned attributes, so it makes sense that Darkness itself would choose The Dark Knight of Gotham. Now the question is how would this affect him? he's still human but he's also The Batman, not much is needed for this not so mere mortal. It's likely The Dark's boons would start off as subtle at first, a glancing blow here a convenient shadow there and so on. However as fear and madness rises in Gotham (as it is want to do) the dark would need to give it's dark knight greater blessings to maintain the balance, which would result the Bat becoming more uncanny as the nights go on, dodging bullets like dark smoke, scaling walls with gnarled claws, sinking into shadows like water, his eye's shining in the night and still unseen, his cape twisting into shadowy wings gliding across the rooftops, slowly becoming the creature this city needs. Mind you Bruce is still there, still human, still the socialite, still the playboy with too much money and daddy issues, but he isn't always Bruce, when he is Batman he is more, when Bruce puts on the cowl he is akin more to twisted living darkness than mere mortal, Moving with the grace and mirth of the shadow of a savage beast, hunting for justice and vengeance with an insatiable apatite, it is Gotham's greatest fear, and The Dark's greatest champion, for he is darkness, he is vengeance, he is the night.

[comfortless]

AHH I was the anon from the Bear!Ko ask ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ I adore it so much like I’m kicking my feet and twirling my hair your ideas are CHEFS KISS AND IM GLAD YOU LIKED THE PROMPTT

Definitely not excited that you’re considering more hybrid stuff.. TEEHEE ʕ •́؈•̀ ₎

BUT YEAH JUST THOUGHT TO DROP SOMETHING NEW CUZ WHY NOT! Maybe Ko being deployed on a mission to some wild terrain, having to camp out on the grounds for a while by himself. Reader taking interest in the behemoth and toying with him until he finds out they’re a fae or nymph

Or a game of hide and seek.. in the dark.. with him.. maybe even a wolf!ko

ONCE AGAIN ID LOVE TO SEE YOU WORK UR MAGIC ON THESE IDEAS (｡♥‿♥｡)

hi, 🧸!! working on something with a lycanthrope Kö at the moment, but this is… well it is something! i adore the idea of König with a cute (insatiable) nymph!! definitely give @cookiepie111’s Drink From The Leche of Sirens a read if you haven’t already. <3

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. fae nonsense (reader is a tree nymph), vague smut.

It isn’t that he ever intended to be here, not really. Simple surveillance, Fender had told him. Any knowing soldier would recognize the equipment that did not even need hands to tend to it, the cameras that should be set and monitored, and yet there were none in place here— just König, a loaded gun, and the stillness of the forest that seemed to stretch ever onward.

There’s been a lapse for the past week, with Kortac’s most adept at retrieving information out seeking just that, off with their radios constantly abuzz and adrenaline running rampant through their veins.

There’s an envy harbored somewhere in the back of his skull, twittering and hissing when he thinks on it too much… shelved for an uncharacteristic mistake to be left here amongst plants and scattered animal sounds, a temporary solace that would be ripped away when something new came through the chain of command; an overabundance of the very things he would care to think less about.

König hasn’t seen another person in days, not out here, tracking a vehicle carrying supposed smuggled weapons. There are no tire tracks, not even air traffic passing above: only gloom, loneliness, and the chill of early spring.

Then the abandoned house, where he takes refuge. It’s dated: the furniture all in various states of disarray, shattered porcelain about the kitchen and vaulted ceilings so high he doesn’t even need to bother with ducking to cross from room to room. It’s old on the exterior, stately, with vines creeping up its walls to reach the warmest height to bloom. Though internally, it is clear the place has not been left to rot for long: no loose boards, no holes in the ceiling or floor, just seemingly preserved somehow, as though time itself had come to still.

He doesn’t mind the daily patrols through the forest, the pensive stalking and creeping to find any hint of what he was after. Even through the night, when sleep forgets to lure him in for warmth and comfort amidst the pollen and silence, the walking never seems to grate on him.

There are lights, often, amongst the trees, faint pulses of glowing white that dissipate the moment his gaze sweeps over them. He’s read the fairytales as a child, even witnessed Conor get so drunk once that he shared his own tales of the ‘wee folk’, but König would feel a fool to believe any of that at face value. Most of his own kind were not interested in him, shying away with laughter or pitying gazes the moment he approached, so why would anything else be drawn to a man who could never quite scrub the blood from his fingernails or keep a conversation from spinning out into silence and uneasy glances?

It’s during one of these nightly walks that he first sees her, a vision bathed beneath the milky glow of the moon, ethereal, yet still nothing short of a proper blessing from the earth. Despite the distance from his path to her own, her body looks soft, bare and gentle. The growing thorns and clusters of ivy do not scrape her, only gently pull aside as she walks, tender and swaying like the petals sprung up from the plants for little fingers ghost over.

He only thinks that, assuredly, he’s lost his mind. The vision fades away when she looks at him, curls her lips into a smile… and then it is all gone. She leaves not a trace, no footprints indented into the soil he knows he had only just watched her tread. The flowers he saw her pull into being have vanished, too. All that remains is a dulled aura of dread, a strange thing that he has not felt in years, if ever at all.

König does not think of the woman until she appears again, during the day amidst the leaves of a sprawling sycamore. She lies against the bark, body resting over a healthy branch where she sleeps in a position so demure it sets his heart ablaze. The breeze caresses her hair, something he wishes to feel beneath his own fingertips; it whistles over her bare skin while the sun bathes her in rays of gold, filtered out through pinprick partings in the leaves, begs, pleads for him to touch. Forbidden fruit, too lofty to touch, too dainty for ash and blood.

He only walks away, carries on with the focus of his mission, reminds himself of every time that he’s sought some semblance of companionship and how those escapades had all simmered down to nothing but taunting echoes for sleepless nights. There was no need for any more ghosts, not even the pretty ones.

With nothing else in sight, he returns to that house where time halts and loses himself to want; swallows dry when he frees himself of his buckle and pulls out his growing erection. A release and an expelling of memory all in one.

He thinks of her, of her graceful walk amidst the darkened woods, of the way she lay, perfectly unscathed and beautiful, unknowing of any thing that plagues him, scatters from his grim expression right down to his very marrow. The imaginings… he would never speak of them, perhaps would only have the information pried from him that he thought of her smile when he spilled himself into his palm, but only if she came to beg for it with a voice he imagines must be tree sticky and sweet like warmed honey. Only if she came for him.

There lies a meadow just past an abrupt opening in the tree line, small and subdued by outstretched branches that curl over the grass and wildflowers still yet to bloom. No chill lingers here, as though summer stretches over the little glade and settles atop it with its warmth, masks even the little pond that does not seem to carry the same frosted panes of ice that the others he had seen do. There is fruit, puny red berries and hefty pears causing their limbs to bend, gently set them down for the earth and all of the animals roaming about to eat.

And he knows he’s stumbled upon her home.

He finds his voice when she peeks at him from behind the trunk, wide-eyed and curious with the softest curl about her lips, playful but tentative.

“Hallo,” he whispers, raising his gloved hand as if to wave, but curling his fingers into his palm instead. He’s horribly uncertain, caught between the alarming thought that he’s dealing with some perturbing nudist or something… else entirely.

“Hello,” she says, almost shy as she unveils herself from behind the tree, takes a step toward him with a tender look in her eyes and a long draw of breath. Sets his nerves at ease with her silent admittance that she, too, at least seemed wary.

König immediately tells her why he’s here, not in full detail, sparing the poor doe the tedium and the confidential bits that would likely only make her head spin, and then… he mentions how he had seen her, how the forest seemed to yield to her whims, her dancing beneath the moon that appeared to shine only for her. He gives her a curious look, undetectable beneath the darkened hood, pleads for her to explain in his own silent sort of way.

“I have seen you too,” she says instead, curling her arms behind her back, pushing out her chest, and… he doesn’t think to ask any further.

She’s the loveliest thing that he has ever seen or felt: places herself right into his lap when she guides him down to the grass. There’s sap on her fingertips when she presses them to his lips, curiously grazing them over his mouth as he speaks to her about the forest, a forest he’s already deemed to be her own, obscure princess that she was. She giggles when he dares to lick over each intruding digit, even gives a shaky, soft sigh when he suckles at one.

The nymph whispers things into his ear that he’s never heard before: things about each sprouting plant, of other things that hide away in the shade beneath branches and how they had all seen him too, about the earth and life and softer secrets about her beloved tree. Home and love without ever daring to speak words so simple. She does not ask about the dreadful things he does not think about, only lies back in the grass when he praises her beauty and the lovely notes of her voice.

He thinks for a moment that he should not touch her, should not have her grace wasted on something like him, but she rises up only enough to kiss him through the hood and he finds himself tugged down to tickling blades of grass and his mind finally does quiet.

She cradles him close as he claims her love for his own, steals sap from her lips and follows her sighs to a comforting oblivion. Her hands find his neck, his shoulders to offer gentle touches, tracing patterns like the intricate twisting of vines against his flesh all while he praises their union, her sweetness.

He doesn’t know how long he’s spent with her, the day seems to to stretch on for an eternity with the sun high above, but when he wakes… he is back inside of the old, quiet house, lying in the bed he knows with a certainty that he’s never even touched. Fender’s voice is calling to him over the radio, clipped and demanding for a report, one that proves nothing at all, a barrage of words filled with wonder and bliss with no intel on the mission.

And König isn’t shocked by the leave he’s given once he does return to base the following day. Three weeks time would be just enough to clear his head, regain his focus, pull money from his account to purchase that lonesome old house in the forest. He couldn’t bare the thought of never seeing such an angel again, never hearing the soft chittering of her voice or being blessed with the feeling of her beneath him, intertwined like the vines she so loved.

[002yb]

Dick doused with one of Ivy's more potent pollen 👀

Usually Dick's immunity towards rogue-made toxins of any sort is monstrously high; he's not often affected, which is why it's so alarming when this one takes him the fuck out with horniness

Just Dick recognizing that something isn't right with himself and realizing that he needs to get away. The general antidote they have does fuck all and Dick can feel how his own blood burns in his veins so he stumbles away from an ongoing fight - removing himself from the situation before he becomes the fight his family has to worry about

And it's alarming once the dust settles and everyone realizes that Dick is MIA. They know he was hit; that he went to ground is telling of the damning potency of the new pollen though and concerns ramp up tremendously. Especially because Dick won't respond (he can't) on comms.

Fortunately: tracking.

Problem is: Dick fled to the Alley. Notoriously Jason's territory and saying that the family's truce is tentative is g e n e r o u s.

Still, it's an emergency. With how far out everyone is; with how they still need to make an antidote that will neutralize whatever it is Dick is experiencing - they need help.

Enter: Jason.

Who can and will use this favor as leverage. 'But he's your brother,' the family tries to argue, to which Jason scoffs because, 'that's convenient.' Just Jason antagonizing Bruce and co. even as he goes to the coordinates that were rattled off to him.

'Just get an antidote,' Jason tells them, 'I'll make sure Goldie stays out of trouble.'

The joke being that Jason is trouble and Dick will be buried to the hilt in him soon enough so Dick really isn't staying out of anything lol

Anyway, Jason tracks Dick down to the fire escape of some condemned building. It's a precarious place to hide, but what's that bit of danger to someone who loves to be in high places and seeks the thrill of a fall?

So Dick sits on the fire escape, body drawn taut and curled small as Dick fights to keep himself controlled and contained.

Meanwhile Jason is on the floor of the alley looking up and wow, isn't this nostalgic? Though usually Jason would see Robin flying between the narrow gap between buildings, not hiding out on a rusty fire hazard of an escape.

There's no passing up on tormenting Dick given how pitiful he looks. So Jason whistles low and watches close how Dick's muscles seem to jump; how Dick's fingertips dig into his shoulders and neck when Jason gets ornery and intones, 'You're a bit far from the nest, big bird.'

'So are you.' Dick quips back and Jason rolls his eyes. Good ol' Goldie must not be feeling too bad if he can fire off retorts like that.

And Jason is ready to scoff and sulk and be petulant; he's ready to start a fight to distract or manhandle Dick to a safe house, but Dick shifts to peek at him and Jason stops still - hairs on the back of his neck standing on end because he senses danger

The intent and focus in Dick's gaze is heavy. Jason hasn't felt like easy pickings in a long time, but in that moment under Dick's attention? Jason remembers what it is to be hunted. That Dick is the hunter though is - hot disorienting.

It reminds Jason of Dick's mean streak from back in the day and he shudders at the memories. Fond in hindsight. Anticipatory, even.

Because Jason has had fantasies with this sort of set up: Dick dosed with pollen and Jason conveniently there to ease an itch

Ain’t no way Dick would actually want Jason, unfortunately, so fantasy will stay fantasy.

Jason heaving a sigh and clasping the back of his neck as he figures his plan of action. Being put out because no matter how he tries to justify being Dick’s warm body for a few hours and living out that fantasy of getting violated by an unrestrained and insatiable version of his undying crush…there’s no way Dick wouldn’t be the one suffering.

'Keep looking at me like that and I'll get the wrong idea,' Jason would taunt as a means of diffusing the tension. A joke to settle his own nerves.

Only Dick throws him for a loop, because he keeps looking and in a low rasp murmurs, 'Good.'

And Jason just - what!? Σ(⊙ロ⊙)

Like this boy is slack jawed, wide eyed with cheeks flushed because surely he heard wrong, right? There's this loaded silence and stalemate of a stare down and Jason starts to sweat because Dick isn't backing down and ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) 

Jason talks a big game with his deepest and darkest and most depraved fantasies, but at heart? He's a damn maiden. His heart is about ready to beat out of his chest!

Curiosity killed the cat and it's Jason's twisted curiosity on what it is to be loved in any capacity that kills him, so...

'You gonna do anything about it, Goldie?'

It's entirely on Jason for provoking the chase. It's also on him for the sick attraction he has for danger - the way it makes his heart beat faster and his blood sing in his veins

Not gonna lie though, Jason bites off more than he can chew with Dick. Even in the throes of the side effects of Ivy's pollen, Dick is hot as fuck. But also? He's fucking terrifying.

Just Jason laughing through the fear because Dick is a fucking monster nipping at Jason's heels as they run through the Alley. He tells Dick as much, too. Through the panic and adrenaline Jason might mention any number of other things, too.

Endless rambling about how Jason wants to be chased in a cute, romantic way; this night terror shit isn't what he signed up for, get back demon omfgggggg

More rambling that give Jason away because Dick doesn't need to chase him so hard to get Jason's heart racing; if Dick wants to take Jason's breath away he can just like, stand there, as opposed to this cardio nightmare

And through all of Jason's complaints, Dick eventually burns through the pollen.

Fun thing is that Dick doesn't clue Jason in on this. He just keeps chasing Jason because Jason's being really fucking cute about it.

Which Jason only realizes after Dick tackles him clear out of the skies and they tumble across a rooftop. And Jason is ready to throw down. Their first fuck ain't going down like this, so Jason bares his teeth and throws a punch.

Dick catches it and pins Jason's arm down. Then the other. And it's only when Jason catches Dick's gaze that the panic settles because -

Because Dick is smiling. Laughing!

And Jason is (⁄ ⁄•⁄Д⁄•⁄ ⁄) because he's been utterly exposed

Queue banter and playful teasing

Only this time the joke is on Dick, because what residual pollen was on his costume comes off on to Jason and Jason wasn't blessed with the same resistance to all the rogues' gimmicks as Dick

So Dick is hovering over Jason, very much in his space in a very intimate way. And as they're bantering Dick starts to see the tell tale signs that Jason is very much not okay and oh, he's actually so damn alluring? Uh oh. SOS.

Because Jason is all cheeks stained a pretty pink, fringe matted to his forehead not just from their impromptu sprint through the city, but also because Jason is burning up from the inside. Just sweaty and dazed, chest heaving and with the most sinful little gasps pulling past his lips and -

Is this how Jason looks when he's being fucked? It has to be.

'Keep looking at me like that and I'm gonna get the wrong idea.' Jason quips, head turned to seek some reprieve from the cool ground beneath him, but all it really does is bare Jason's neck and Dick really wants to blame the pollen for how affected he feels because fuck.

'Good,' he breathes.

And lbr they probably don't fuck because this relationship is defined by UST, but if they did? 👀

For real though, Dick gives Jason the courting experience this maiden man was bitching about during their game of chase. Jason wanted to be chased after in a cute way? Dick makes it such a cutesy slow burn experience that Jason takes it back. He wants to get down and dirty immediately. Where's his night terror demon bird man at?

[ash-morrison]

Fast Lane (firstprince Minx AU) | 46.7k | E

art by @xxnelli

Henry has an Ivy League education in Queer Studies and insatiable dream- to create his own influential Queer Culture Magazine. There’s just one problem standing in his way, it’s the late 1970s and the topics are considered too taboo for mainstream marketing. In steps publisher Alexander Claremont-Diaz, self-proclaimed “porn king” of New York. In order to make his dream a reality he will have to give control over to Alex and dive into the seedy underbelly of the New York City porn industry. (Now complete)

[k8mosss]

i feel like i’ve been here for a while but not yet introduced myself, so here’s my intro!

name : julia,

big three : leo sun, leo moon, taurus rising

personality type : infp

music : mainly lana - songs - florida kilos, venice bitch, fishtail, ultraviolence, dealer, fck it i love you, happiness is a butterfly, sad girl, carmen and more.

frank ocean : sigfreid, thinking bout you, nights, godspeed, ivy, self control

others : MGMT, pixies, TV girl, steve lacy, The smiths , Blood orange, The sundays, madison beer, nessa barrett

movies : ten things i hate about you, girl interrupted, call me by your name, jennifer’s body, palo alto, fight club, priscilla, waves, the virgin suicides, the devil wears prada. probably missing some out

series : breaking bad, skins, gilmore girls, baby, shameless, gossip girl, insatiable, you, outerbanks, the end of the f***ing world, ( i need recommendations pls xx )

i don’t really know what else i could talk about but i would love to make some mutuals, thanks for viewing my page!! ౨ৎ

[zapreportsblog]

Ok ok ok, do one where reader is a fairy, I mean like tinkerbell size, and they need somewhere warm during the winter because they’ve been living in a tree, so they seek refuge in the Cullen household and one of them finds them (I don’t really care who it is so you can pick, but in the end I want all of them to meet the fairy)

Also I love your writing so much omg ❤️

❝little fairy girl❞

✭ pairing : Cullen Family x reader

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : (y/n) is a forest fairy that lives nearby the Cullens though she goes unnoticed but as winter rolls by she seeks shelter in their house, again unnoticed well that’s until she is noticed

✭ twilight masterlist

In the heart of Forks, Washington, nestled deep within the dense forest, there was a place unlike any other. It was a realm of magic, hidden from the eyes of ordinary humans, and only known to those who believed in the extraordinary. This mystical place was home to (Y/N), a fairy of unparalleled beauty and grace.

(Y/N) had lived in the enchanted woods of Forks for as long as she could remember. With her delicate wings shimmering like the morning dew and her emerald eyes sparkling like the ancient trees that surrounded her, she was a vision of ethereal beauty. Her hair, the color of moonlight, cascaded down her back, and her laughter echoed through the forest, filling it with a sense of wonder and enchantment.

The fairy's home was a cozy, ivy-covered cottage nestled beneath the towering cedar trees. Inside, her living room was adorned with delicate crystals that bathed the room in a soft, colorful glow. Books on magic and ancient spells lined the shelves, evidence of her insatiable curiosity about the hidden mysteries of the forest.

But (Y/N)'s life wasn't just about solitude and serenity. She had friends among the woodland creatures, from the mischievous squirrels who would playfully tease her, to the wise old owls who shared their ancient knowledge. She was also known to dance with fireflies on warm summer nights and sing songs that made the flowers bloom with every note.

Her closest companion, however, was a majestic wolf named Luna, who had silvery fur that shimmered like the moon. Luna was not an ordinary wolf; she possessed a deep connection to the fairy and served as her protector in the enchanted woods. Together, they were an inseparable pair, guardians of the mystical secrets that lay hidden in the heart of Forks.

But as peaceful as life seemed, there was an undercurrent of mystery and intrigue in the enchanted woods. Rumors of a long-forgotten prophecy whispered through the leaves, and (Y/N) couldn't shake the feeling that her destiny was entwined with the fate of the forest and the creatures who called it home.

As autumn's vibrant colors gave way to a crisp chill, (Y/N) sensed the approaching winter with a shiver of unease. Her woodland home, though enchanting, was not immune to the harshness of the season. The leaves had fallen from the trees, and a biting wind swept through the forest, making her delicate wings quiver.

Realizing she hadn't prepared herself adequately for the impending cold, (Y/N) knew she had to find shelter. Her small, palm-sized form wouldn't withstand the winter's icy grasp for long. She needed a safe haven, and there was one place that came to mind—the Cullen house.

With a mixture of determination and trepidation, (Y/N) embarked on her journey to the Cullen residence. She fluttered through the forest, her wings beating gracefully against the frigid air, until she reached the edge of the property. She hid among the evergreen branches, observing the house from a distance.

The Cullen house, like its inhabitants, was a mysterious place. It had an aura of elegance and secrecy that intrigued (Y/N) from afar. She knew of the family who resided there, thanks to the whispers of the forest creatures. They were rumored to be different, special in a way that matched the enchantment of Forks' woods.

Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, (Y/N) darted closer to the house, searching for a hidden entry point. She found a crack in the foundation just wide enough for her to slip through. With a silent prayer to the woodland spirits for guidance, she entered the Cullen home unnoticed.

Inside, the warmth enveloped her like a comforting embrace. It was a stark contrast to the biting cold outside. (Y/N) remained hidden, her tiny form tucked away in the shadows, as she watched the Cullens move about their daily lives, unaware of her presence.

She listened to their conversations and marveled at their beauty and grace. There was something otherworldly about them, much like herself. In this moment, (Y/N) felt a strange kinship with the Cullens, as if fate had brought her here for a reason.

As the days grew shorter and the nights colder, (Y/N) continued to seek refuge in the Cullen house, all the while remaining hidden, her presence a secret known only to the creatures of the forest and the whispering winds. Little did she know that her decision to seek shelter with the Cullens would lead to unexpected encounters and a destiny she could never have imagined.

Days turned into weeks, and (Y/N) continued to find solace in the warmth of the Cullen house, hidden away from their view. She observed their interactions with a mixture of fascination and curiosity, still unsure if revealing herself was the right course of action.

One evening, as (Y/N) perched on a windowsill, peering outside at the falling snowflakes, she heard a soft, melodious voice. It was Esme, the matriarch of the Cullen family, known for her boundless compassion and nurturing spirit. Her voice carried through the house like a soothing lullaby.

Esme had been tending to the grand piano in the living room, her graceful fingers dancing over the keys. The hauntingly beautiful music filled the air, and (Y/N)'s heart swelled with the emotions it evoked.

Drawn by the enchanting melody, (Y/N) fluttered closer, her tiny form hovering just out of sight. Unbeknownst to her, her presence had not gone entirely unnoticed by Esme. The matriarch had a keen intuition that extended beyond the ordinary, a gift that had served her well throughout her long life.

Esme paused in her playing, her golden eyes scanning the room. Her gaze, gentle yet perceptive, landed on the small, hidden fairy.

"Is someone there?" Esme asked, her voice filled with warmth and concern. Her eyes seemed to penetrate the shadows, seeking out the hidden presence.

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment, her heart fluttering with uncertainty. But there was something in Esme's gaze, a kindness and understanding, that urged her to reveal herself. With a graceful descent, (Y/N) landed on the edge of the piano, her tiny figure illuminated by the soft glow of the room's lights.

Esme's eyes widened in gentle surprise as she beheld the tiny, radiant fairy before her. Her fingers, once poised over the piano keys, now reached out slowly, as if offering a delicate greeting.

"Hello there," Esme whispered, her voice filled with wonder. "What brings you to our home, dear one?"

(Y/N) hesitated no longer. With a voice as delicate as the rustling leaves, she replied, "I sought shelter from the cold, and your home offered warmth and solace."

A warm smile graced Esme's lips as she extended her hand, allowing (Y/N) to alight upon her palm. "You are most welcome here," Esme said, her golden eyes filled with kindness. "We are a family that embraces the extraordinary, and you, my dear, are indeed extraordinary."

In that moment, (Y/N) knew that her life had taken an unexpected turn. She had found not just refuge from the winter's chill but also a new family, one that saw the magic within her and accepted her as one of their own. And so, her journey with the Cullens began, forging bonds that would change her destiny forever.

With Esme's gentle hand supporting her, (Y/N) felt a sense of belonging she had never known before. The warmth of the Cullen house was not just physical; it emanated from the family's genuine acceptance and kindness. Still nestled in Esme's palm, she couldn't help but feel a wave of gratitude.

As (Y/N) perched in Esme's hand, the matriarch made her way through the house, introducing the tiny fairy to each member of the Cullen family. First, they came across Carlisle, the family's patriarch, with his calming presence and golden eyes that mirrored Esme's. He extended a hand, and (Y/N) hopped onto his fingers, offering a delicate curtsy in greeting.

Next were Alice and Jasper, their unique gifts allowing them to sense emotions and foresee outcomes. Alice's infectious enthusiasm and Jasper's serene demeanor made (Y/N) feel at ease. She flitted around them, her presence met with smiles and welcoming gestures.

Edward, the introspective mind-reader of the family, regarded (Y/N) with curiosity and a hint of amusement. He didn't say much, but his presence was enigmatic and intriguing. (Y/N) couldn't help but be captivated by his enigmatic aura.

Rosalie and Emmett, the physically powerful siblings, greeted (Y/N) with hearty laughter and playful banter. They seemed larger than life, their vibrant personalities filling the room.

Lastly, they arrived at the youngest member of the family, Renesmee, a half-human, half-vampire hybrid who possessed an extraordinary ability to communicate with those around her through thought. Renesmee's eyes widened with wonder as she extended her hand, her gentle thoughts reaching out to (Y/N). The fairy fluttered toward her, sharing a moment of unspoken understanding.

Each introduction was met with curiosity, fascination, and an unwavering acceptance. The Cullens, a family of unique individuals with their own supernatural qualities, embraced (Y/N) as one of their own, a living embodiment of the enchantment that surrounded them.

Esme's voice filled the room as she spoke of (Y/N)'s arrival and the circumstances that had brought the tiny fairy into their lives. The family listened with rapt attention, their expressions a mixture of intrigue and empathy.

"You are no ordinary visitor, (Y/N)," Esme said with a smile, her hand cradling the fairy gently. "You are a part of this family now, and we are delighted to have you."

(Y/N) couldn't have asked for a more extraordinary welcome. In the presence of the Cullens, she had found not just shelter from the cold, but a place where her magic was celebrated and her heart had discovered a new home. Her life had taken a remarkable turn, and she knew that her journey with the Cullens was only beginning.

[genderascendant]

Ivy…….. Unstoppable force (my Wildly Insatiable Lust for garthy o’brien voice) vs immovable object (she was mean to mazey so i want her head on a pike)

[pinyatapix]

i never played Concord nor had interest in it but i felt an insatiable drive to redesign all of its characters before the game shut down ever since i saw how absolutely dripless they were

anyways here’s my scuffed ass sketches of the gang. i was originally going to finish these all before the game’s shutdown but i was so stuck on Teo that it took 6 extra days rip me. also i cant draw guns. these are all first drafts so expect them to change a bit if i feel like drawing em again

more info on these designs below (warning i yap a lot)

Itzi (i am not calling her “It-Z” cuz it reads rly weird and i can imagine someone bri’ish calling her “It-Zed” it’s so dumb): Wanted to make her more of a goofy lil gremlin creature, like some combo between a jerboa chameleon and raptor, to make her more appealing and interesting, imagine being shot to death by this silly little scamp. Everyone loves Ivy Deadlock for her gremlin charm so maybe they’d love Itzi too if she had that as well. Her chest has a hole in it containing the weird ball she throws to teleport and shit, because a Concord critique by TBSkyen said that a character’s powers should appear on their physical design or whatever, also to show that she got mutated in a freaky space storm

Bazz: nothing about her reads as “agile deadly knife-throwing assassin”, especially with that annoying puffy bright red coat, she looks completely stupid running around doing backflips with that thing on! So i made it a more sharper mysterious black coat she wears like a cape to give her that sense of shadowy agility like a phantom thief, which she keeps all her carbon steel knives all neatly stored in. Gave her a slight diamond motif on the coat and the glasses because it felt elegant and sharp. Thought her hairstyle kinda fucked hard so i kept it but made it a bit more pointier and added a little stylish side swoop.

Lennox: i actually love this guy’s voice acting and the slightly manic goofy personality it had but his design did NOT fit the voice, so fuck it im making him even more of a lizard man than they were trying to do. His self-healing ability is him shedding a bit of skin after it took damage, and his “splodey knife” is probably a back scale spine he yoinks out of his back that can explode because it’s a biological property of his species for some reason. I do not know what clothes to give him

Lark: Discarded all semblance of a humanoid silhouette to make them even more of a weird mushroomy alien. I don’t really have much to say but i can easily see them slithering around like an octopus on land but faster. Their gun would look way more like some organic fungal creation

Haymar: not much changes here but i wanted to make her more mystic and “wizardy”. The “fireballs” she uses as her main ammo are now a floating bead necklace rotating around her neck (kinda like that zen robot from overwatch) and her clothes now have more of a slight flame motif, along with more of a mystic vibe. Got rid of those ugly ass mustard sneakers too of course

Daw: gave him more turtle motifs to match his “turtle-esque” gameplay style by giving him a protective hoodie and turning his “healing pad” pack into a bulky turtleshell backpack (he’s also wearing a turtleneck sweater shirt underneath the coat lol). His coat is somewhat translucent like shiny plastic cuz i thought it would look neat, tried to ditch the goofy-ass jumpsuit thing he had by giving him a belt to separate shirt and pants. Not too sure if i made him appear enough as a medic as that’s his main thing, the coat and gloves could probably help but idk, but i adjusted his personality presentation to be more easygoing and warmhearted with the closed-eyes so maybe that could give a healer energy.

Duchess: old ladies who know how to kick ass are rly cool. her whole thing’s making walls and constructs out of this golden gooey energy but nothing in her design tells you about that, so i decided to give her a cape/cloak made of that same golden essence so that it’s more apparent on what she can use it for, it also makes her appear more like royalty which was prolly what they were going for. Kept the haircut cuz that beehive thing was very goofy but it fits the vibe of everything else

Roka: she looked like a blowup sexdoll version of Master Chief which is… very cursed, and it tells nothing about her being able to fly around and stomp on people, so i made her bug themed! She’s like a cross between a wasp and dragonfly, the bulletproof wings are rocket-powered and can fully rotate the other direction to give her a forward boost of momentum to stomp people with her slightly more exaggerated boots, they also neatly fold away when she’s not flying. She’s rockin’ that tokusatsu hero look, it gives her a lot more energy to her personality.

Daveers: hated drawing them and i feel unsatisfied but i do like what ideas i had for them. Gave them more of a “sketchy mad scientist” vibe and personality with a shit-eating grin and all that, also tried to give them a “test tube contraption” thing going on by having their helmet be entirely glass and there being tubes and bottles all over their baggy jumpsuit full of poisons and chemicals. Gave them a spray-can backpack that stores all their toxic sludge tho im not too sure if it fits the rest of them or not… whatever. Tried giving them a chemical burn mark on one half of their face but it’s blending in with the hair rip

Jabali: he’s a healer whose powers come from “his own pulse”, but the weird pacemaker thing on his heart is the only way of knowing that so i made him waaaayyy more heart themed! His cool-ass hat’s got a blood cell design on it, his coat’s got a vein pattern, his shoulder pads look like aortas and arteries, i think his dreadlock ponytail could also match the aorta look. I seriously felt that vibe of the cool badass black guy with the glasses and coat and wide tippable hat needed to be enhanced even more, he had all the ingredients to be one stylish mfer but they weren’t mixed in properly, depressing.

Vale: i was racking my head on what to do with her because the only thing going on with her was “sniper” and “bionic legs”, but i decided to make her a “scrapper” like what they called Emari in that one short by turning that “burlap sack hobo” look she originally had into more of a defining feature as something recycled from a bunch of scrap she collected. Turned her “how do you do fellow kids” backwards hat into a slick bandana that has her sniper goggles attached to it, made her braids/dreadlocks into a cool ponytail befitting of a sniper though i wished i decorated them with more stuff other than the power plugs at some of their tips, like nuts and bolts acting as hair beads. Her bionic legs are also more heavily emphasized here, she’s like 70% leg like Byakuya Togami Danganronpa and that makes her a bit more taller than most, i can see her running around with them rly fast also they have large springs in them for extra jump (also they matched those spring like curly tips in her og hairstyle)

Emari: tried to make her bulky armor even more like it’s made of scrap like the “scrapper” she is, tho since i kinda suck at mechanical greebling she looks very cluttered and hard to read. I tried putting cute little stickers and graffiti on her armor to give her more of a fun-loving vibe despite her imposing build, felt like she’d decorate her armor for fun. Gave her helmet a visor to give her some cool toughness and added lil things on it reminiscent of bear ears cuz her silhouette needed a lil something. Problem i have with drawing her is that her silhouette ended up looking too similar to 1-0FF’s redesign, it really needs some fixing cuz it’s pretty damn rough.

Kyps: she could’ve served so much cunt but she didn’t, so i needed to change that. To match her invisibility powers as a spy i themed her off of chameleons and mirrors — i un-balded her for improved silhouette by giving her a hairstyle similar to a chameleon tail (tho it also looks like a glass Prince Rupert’s drop and mirrors are also glass), gave her “earrings” similar to mirror handles, made her coat a lot longer and have it slightly reminiscent of fractured or cut glass, give it a coattail like a chameleon tail, and tried giving faint patterns on the clothes and especially the tied that gives a sort of “shimmery” kinda vibe??? She’s reminding me a lot of Inteleon right now

1-0FF: actually my favorite out of the redesigns, he was so tricky to do but i think i got him pretty right. Wanted him to appear even more of a friendly recycling bot toughened up by constant battle, replaced that menacing eye of his with a friendly smile on a screen (that i took from an app icon from my ipad out of laziness lol) and gave him little symbols of recycling like little sprout iconography and a recycling symbol heart, though as contrast to all that i gave him scars and battle damage so you know he kicks ass. Still wanted to keep the trashcan look so his head kinda resembles those trashcans with the spinny rotating lids, tried my best to make the rest of the body also trashcanny. Turned that vacuum gun of his into a megaman-type arm gun because why did they make it a separate component that’s so stupid.

Starchild: turned him from a rip-off Guardians of the Galaxy character into something more like a rock monster guy since his main ability's called Diamond Skin and it does.... guess what. I put crystals on different parts of his body and I thought about the "hair" on his body being made of those weird fuzzy kinds of crystals (realized it was a missed opportunity to give him chest hair rip). Wanted to make his name "Star Child" a lot more literal by inspiring him off of a shooting star, which is why I gave him that plume of smoke for hair. Since he's a (former) proud tribal warrior guy I wanted his design to lean more heavily into that by giving him tattoos that are like geometric stone carvings??? and giving him clothes and jewelry that give a sort of non-existent tribal culture vibe, his clothes also have a sort of bismuth pattern to them.

Teo: okay this fucker was the reason why I did not finish this. His design was so unimaginably boring that it was very difficult to come up with a "twist" for him while still having him be the standard shooty guy. Days later I immediately thought "Space Dandy" and decided to make him be way more flamboyant with a pompadour as his main feature, befitting of the "goofy space adventure" vibe this game tried and failed to capture. In my head his backstory was that he was raised from birth to be a regular ass disposable space soldier, leaving the army much much later to pursue a quest for self-identity... the identity he chose for himself being that of an over-the-top galactic popstar. I imagine his "Smoke Bomb" ability being glittering colorful smoke instead, like a popstar entering the stage out of artificial smoke clouds.

okay I'm tired. i am cooler than playstation. goodbye

[dairy-farmer]

Newly appointed Robin!Tim gets captured by Ivy during an Arkham breakout. Everyone else is busy so it's just him for now, and Ivy has always had a soft spot for the Robin's, so she isn't particularly cruel. It's easy to mess with them tho, what with their hormones being so out of wack with the onset of puberty

She doesn't realize this Robin has a pussy tho, not until after she's given him some mild sex pollen, just to make him squirm. Instead of a little hard-on like she expects tho, there's a little wet spot where his tiny baby pussy is absolutely soaking wet. She decides to take advantage of this opportunity for an experiment she's been working on: crossbreeding

She wants to see if she can breed more intelligent or healthy plants if they're birthed from a human womb. So she uses her vines to pull off Robin's pants and he's such a natural little slut, begging for more and to be fucked (which is funny bc she really didn't dose him with much. He's really a cockslut in the making) before his pants are even all the way off

But she obliges, and has her vines fuck his sweet baby pussy until he's drooling and nearly delirious with pleasure. Once he's cum for the fifth time, she brings in her ovipositor and has it quickly replace the vine that was steadily fucking him. Robin just things it's another vine ready to fuck him silly, but then the seeds start to slip inside and he cums to hard he passes out for a few moments. He thought the vines felt good? Well this is insane, better than he ever could have imagined!

Ivy was originally gonna do a small handful of fast growing seeds that would practically fall out a few minutes after being implanted, just to spare Robin that possible discomfort, but the little slut loves it so much that she changes her mind. The seeds are bigger, instead of the size of gumballs like she originally planned, they're the size of chicken eggs. Instead of five or six small seeds, she has Tim packed full until something on his suit snaps from the swelling of his belly

The boy is a drooling mess, and Ivy is excited for this next bit. Bc these plants need to be fertilized, so Robin is filled even further, with a sweet smelling, viscous liquid that bloats him even bigger. The small seeds she was going to give him in the beginning would have been in and out within 10 minutes. But these ones take about an hour to cook, and they grow as time passes. When it's time for him to give birth, the seeds are the size of a softball. His belly is big and fat and hanging, stuffed full of goop and seeds, and Tim is a horny mess. Everytime a seed is pushed out of him, he cums

His top is opened up when they realize he's lactating, and two vines with little mouths on the ends nurse from him (but something must be in that goo that filled Tim earlier bc he can already feel his tits refilling and swelling bigger and bigger as time goes by). Ivy is v pleased with how Robin does, bc by the end, he has delivered twenty new seeds

Even better (worse?), Robin is gone all weekend, stuck with Ivy and giving birth to her seeds like clockwork every hour. By the time someone finds him, he's given birth upwards of fifty times, and he's surrounded by a small mountain of slimey seeds

This weekend of being a breeding experiment for Ivy changes him tho, and Tim is an insatiable little slut, to the point where Batman has to make a deal with Ivy to take one of the plants with them to grow and care for with the sole purpose of fucking and filling Tim up. They're able to twist something's around tho and the seeds Tim delivers aren't evil or malevolent, so he spends most of his time strung up in the Cave and getting filled with seeds to his heart's content (after just a few weeks he has big heavy tits and a big belly that's soft and heavy even when he isn't pregnant). He's the absolute picture of maternity and depravity

😍😍😍😍 tim turned desperate to be a little breeder like its encoded in his dna 😍