#is this how headcanons work

[theangelcatalogue]

Making a chain cause why not!? Hdisiwisjs

Put your name/nickname in the Character Headcanon Generator and see what you get!

Link!

Erm...so-

@starsinthenigth @mxnaceo @duckp0t + Anyone who wants to do it! (No pressure)

[minjimunji]

Idk I just wanted to draw them

[krysmcscience]

Call this the Whoopsie AU (it's barely an AU)

I mean. Narinder never explicitly SAID the Lamb would stay dead... :3c He probably should have been more specific. >:3c

Part Two:

Well. The Lamb tried, but...sorry, Nari, the crown hates you now. Shouldn't have been so quick to lend it out, I guess. :D

Aaaand Part Three:

'Isn't he just adorable?' -The Lamb, probably, while their followers smile and nod and internally scream at the brand new hellcat they now have to share living space with...

Anyway, nothing says 'Dead To Me' like following a person around to loudly remind them of how dead they are to you. Right? Right. Narinder's got this all figured out. <:]

[creamiceandsugar]

So I knelt beside the river and I drank until

I drank until I drank until I died

But something in the water must have brought me back

it brought me back it brought me back to life

[mybuginette]

i'm obsessed with this shit now

sorry, in universe social media is my roman empire now

[superbat-lmao]

When Batman “abducts” Jason, he offers him a deal. Since Jason is concerned about staying with Bruce Wayne, and to show that he’s not abandoning the child to be trafficked, he agrees to a “wellness check” once a week, for an hour.

Anything that Bruce Wayne does that makes Jason uncomfortable, he can report to Batman. And if he does any of the things Jason’s worried about, Batman gives him a panic button.

At the first welfare visit, Batman asks about how Jason is acclimating to the manor.

It takes a lot of prodding for Jason to admit that he wants a lock on his door and that he likes Alfred. That he can’t tell what Bruce is thinking a lot of the time and he doesn’t like the ominous silences.

What’s truly crazy, is that after the meeting, Alfred asks him to help install a lock on his door that only works from the inside. And the next day, when he sees Bruce at breakfast, the man starts recounting come of his day at work, regardless of if Jason joins in. He lays out his plans for the day and his reasoning. Just, talks about innocuous things.

He asks Batman what he shared with Bruce at the next meeting. Batman tells him that he spoke with Alfred about the lock but with Bruce about voicing his thoughts more. He asks if it helped.

Jason says yes, but he’s confused as to why Bruce would want to change at all. Or why Batman told him about those sorts of things. After all, they weren’t that big of a deal.

And Batman tries to explain that Jason shouldn’t be uncomfortable. That is goal is to make sure he’s not just safe, but happy.

Slowly, over the course of a few months, Jason opens up to Batman about different things. Everything he confesses is fixed, whether it be people he knew on the streets being arrested or helped out or even just small things about Bruce, like how he doesn’t make any noise when he walks and keeps startling him.

Jason feels himself relaxing around Batman of all people. He even looks forward to their weekly welfare checks so he can ask about the people he knew in Crime Alley.

He’s also making progress on the Alfred front since he’s allowing him to wash up his own dishes and teaching him to cook.

But Bruce remains a problem.

He doesn’t know what it is. He’s really trying to trust the guy, he’s done everything Jason has asked of him through Batman. Everything, no matter how stupid Jason felt asking for it.

So he asks Batman what’s wrong with him. He tells him he wants to like Bruce, he really does, there’s nothing wrong with the guy. Batman was right. He’s just some awkward lonely dude in a giant house. So why won’t his mind let Jason trust him?

Batman tells him that trauma doesn’t work like that. That Jason may never fully trust Bruce, and that isn’t either of their faults. He’s trying, and that’s more than enough.

It all comes to a head when Alfred takes Jason shopping and their errands run pretty long. Jason just needs so much stuff, apparently.

It’s just starting to get dark out and he’s helping Alfred with the shopping by putting the cart away while he closes the trunk when he feels hands around his mouth.

He bites down as hard as he can against the gloves but it doesn’t help. There are two men and he can hear Alfred calling him, but he’s suddenly in another vehicle and he’s having trouble breathing.

He feels along the inside of his hoodie for his panic button and presses it.

There’s a lot of jeering and talk amongst his kidnappers, they’re excited for a payday. And Jason was easy pickings.

The ransom is a video where Jason is wearing a gag and told to briefly look into the camera while people talk over him, making threats and demands.

He knows something is wrong when all the lights go out in the room. He feels hands around him and starts to kick out until he’s face to face with a shadow he’s seen before. Batman is here for him.

Jason goes boneless in the hold and Batman gets him outside.

No one realized one of the kidnappers had made it onto the roof. Batman takes one bullet in the shoulder before they’re both in the Batmobile. Jason is crying and holding gauze to the hole in the armor while Batman talks softly and assures him he’s fine. Jason has no clue how the car gets them away but he’s thankful he doesn’t have to figure out what to do except put pressure on the wound.

When the doors to the batmobile open, Alfred is there and hauling them into what looks like a chrome emergency room. There are medical cots and equipment everywhere.

Alfred start pulling away the armor and Jason sits in shock as the cowl is removed and Batman sits before him as Bruce Wayne.

He’s gently shooed out of the medical section and sits down on what appears to be training mats. He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Alfred comes to fetch him and Bruce is no longer in danger from the bullet.

Bruce looks exhausted in the moment before he sees Jason and his expression clears entirely. Jason feels a numb sort of dread spill over him as he realizes the implications of what he’s seeing. All of the things he’d admitted. All of the things Bruce had done for him. That if the bullet had struck somewhere else he’d be all alone.

He’s crying again and finally Bruce’s face changes into something that isn’t that awful blankness. He looks like he’s in pain but he reaches his arm out towards Jason anyway.

And Jason practically folds into him, crying into the bandages Alfred had wrapped around Bruce.

Bruce is whispering things into his hair. Gentle things. Kind things. Reassurances and asking if Jason is okay, because he was the one who was kidnapped, the one who had been snatched from a parking lot.

But Jason can’t process it, any of it. So he stays there, crying into Bruce’s uninjured shoulder until he’s scooped up into the medical cot to cry into his chest too.

There will have to be several long conversations about everything that had happened, but they would have to wait until tomorrow.

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 (coming soon to VHS)

[ronihilator]

SCREENCAP REDRAW OF LANCE! (ft. headcanons because fuck you)

[flowerakatsuka]

LET'S HEAR IT FOR OUR NEETS!!

[elysianimagines]

// GENSHIN VERSION 5.3 SPOILERS // more under the cut!

ok ok so imagine you often make the trek to visit where the captain is permanently sat when you miss him, so you can leave freshly picked flowers at his feet, or sit in his lap or beside him to vent to him, or to tell him about your day, or that new thing you tried, or to cry into his frozen form, listening to the endless, lifeless heaving of his breath.

and you do not know the night kingdom hears everything you say - that though he is still, thrain still listens. that being able to hug you back is the only thing missing now that he’s at peace from his curse.

though you are happy that he finally can rest after living for so long, with you having been the only person he’d confided in about his heart and all those souls before all this had gone down, the only person there for him when the voices were getting too much, you can’t help but resort to wishful thinking, that maybe he’ll be back someday. you wish you could get to hear his voice again.

you leave a gentle kiss to his helmet.

“i miss you, thrain.” you whisper, and you are painfully unaware that he misses you too.

[narxcisse]

★ — General yandere Viktor headcanons

Yandere!Viktor x GN!Reader

CW: Obsession and yandere behaviors, surveillance and control, manipulation, forced proximity, Vik pretends to depend on you occasionally, isolation(?), takes place in s1

English isn't my native language

Viktor’s analytical nature extends to his obsession. Once he’s fixated on someone, they become the center of his world, overshadowing even his work.

He memorizes every detail about you—your habits, preferences, quirks, and routines. This knowledge is meticulously stored and analyzed to "understand" you better.

Rationalizes his possessiveness as care. He believes he’s the only one who can protect you, especially from the chaos of Zaun and Piltover.

He subtly manipulates circumstances to keep you away from others, framing it as concern for your safety.

Any perceived threat to you triggers his protective instincts. He can be dangerously calculating when dealing with rivals or anyone who might harm you.

He uses his Hextech knowledge to develop devices that monitor or safeguard you—tracking bracelets, automated sentinels, or surveillance systems disguised as gifts.

Viktor uses his calm demeanor to guilt-trip you into compliance. He’ll lament how much he sacrifices for you, subtly steering your choices.

He’ll portray himself as overworked or burdened, implying that your support and closeness are the only things keeping him going.

Viktor impresses you with his intelligence, subtly reinforcing the idea that he’s irreplaceable.

He ensures you rely on him emotionally or practically, making it difficult for you to leave.

He might push himself to the point of exhaustion and subtly blame you for not being there to stop him, saying things like, "If I had you by my side, perhaps I wouldn't push myself this far."

If you ever try to distance yourself, he may consider using his technology to "fix" you, claiming it’s for your benefit.

Viktor’s obsession is methodical. He won’t lash out irrationally but will quietly remove obstacles or manipulate situations to keep you close.

Around you, Viktor shows a softer side that no one else sees (Maybe Jayce sees it sometimes too), making it hard to view him as a threat.

Viktor may mark his territory with small, easily overlooked gestures—insisting you wear a scarf he gave you or leaving his inventions in your home.

Don't underestimate his cane, if you try to run away, he will easily knock you out with it.

If pushed too far, Viktor can become dangerously unhinged. In rare moments of desperation, his calm facade may crack, revealing just how far he’ll go to keep you.

It starts innocently enough—or so it seems. Viktor’s health has been deteriorating more visibly over the past few days. You notice the way he winces when he moves, the increasing reliance on his cane, the exhaustion written across his face.

He brushes off your concern at first, but one night, you find him sitting in his chair, his head resting heavily in his hand, looking utterly defeated.

"I thought I could endure this alone," he says quietly, his voice hoarse with fatigue. "But... I fear I cannot."

You freeze. Viktor has always been stoic, resilient, unwilling to admit weakness. To see him like this sends a pang through your chest.

"I didn’t want to burden you," he continues, his amber eyes meeting yours, glassy with an emotion you can’t quite place. "But it’s becoming harder... to keep going without someone to rely on. Without you."

He doesn’t explicitly ask for anything, but his words hang heavy in the air. You feel his unspoken plea.

"Perhaps it’s selfish," he murmurs, leaning back in his chair as if the weight of the world rests on his shoulders. "But... your presence eases the pain. When you’re near, I feel... stronger."

The way he looks at you—so "vulnerable", so "dependent"—makes it impossible to say no.

"Stay tonight," he says after a pause, his voice almost a whisper. "Just for a while. I need to know you're here."

You hesitate, but his hand reaches out, brushing yours lightly. His touch is cold but steady, grounding in a way that feels both comforting and suffocating.

"Please," he adds softly, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I... don’t want to be alone tonight."

Against your better judgment, you agree. He guides you to sit beside him, his arm brushing against yours. For a while, it’s quiet. Then, almost tentatively, he leans closer, his head resting against your shoulder.

---

After some time, he shifts, feigning discomfort. "Forgive me," he murmurs, his voice strained. "The pain... it’s worse tonight. Would you... hold me? Just for a moment?"

You blink in surprise, but before you can respond, he adds, "I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t unbearable. I just... need to feel that someone cares."

You reluctantly oblige, wrapping your arms around him. He lets out a soft sigh, almost as if in relief, and his own arms tentatively encircle you.

"Thank you," he whispers, his voice tinged with satisfaction. "You have no idea what this means to me."

Even as you sit there, his hold tightens subtly, possessively, as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away.

As the night wears on, you start to feel a creeping realization that this might not have been as innocent as it seemed. Viktor, however, seems content, his gaze soft but calculating as he holds you close.

"Perhaps... you could stay again tomorrow?" he murmurs, the faintest smile playing on his lips. "For my recovery, of course."

[yandere-wishes]

OMG THE DAMIAN X CATGIRL ONE WAS SO GOOD I NEED CATWOMAN TO ADOPT A WHOLE LITTER. Soooo imagine AK Jason Todd with a catwoman of his own? Having fun until Jason got stuck and torture at the asylum, only to come back to find that Catwoman have Tim as the new Robin? 🥺.

Because seeing this it just fuels he's hate towards the new Robin for 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 HIS catwoman away. Pain to Batman, pain to the new Robin, and now he's bringing it to HER. Hey would she recognize him with the the helmet on? Who knows? 🤷‍♂️

This is an idea I want to write, love u wishes ❤️

NO CAUSE I'VE BEEN SO OBSESSED WITH THIS IDEA!!!!!! It is literally everything!! Poor Jason can't catch a break not only has Batman, his mentor, his father, replaced him! But you! The only girl he's ever loved, someone he's been connected to on such a spiritual level since taking up his mantle. Even you have forgotten him, even you have forsaken him! Oh yeah, definitely pain to reader 😠😠

I want you to be measurable too...

=ᗢ==ᗢ==ᗢ==ᗢ==ᗢ==ᗢ==ᗢ==ᗢ==ᗢ==ᗢ

He'd spent the better days of his boyhood, hanging by the thin metallic thread of a grappling hook. Swinging, feet first from rooftop to rooftop. Muscles taut, body coiled around the rope like a snake around a baobab tree.

He'd read The Little Prince last night, that's how he learned of such marvelous grandiose arbors. Trees that breach the mind, that grow tall enough to shadow Wayne Tower. We wonders if Bruce will take him to Africa one day, he wonders if his mentor will show him the baobab trees. If they'll feel cool and brambly under his palm.

Jason lands on the Museum's roof. Prying through the skylight watching as you kneel by your mentor, your mother. Greedily shoving colorful diamonds into fabric bags. Even in the dark, he's half mesmerized by the fluid motion of your body, the way your muscles flex so smoothly. His breath hitches in his throat too engrossed in the moment.

It's not the baobab trees that Jason thinks of when he sees you.

Instead, it's a rose. Not roses, plural, rose singular. As the rose the little prince had. The thing he cherished more than his own life. The thing he'd die for over and over again.

He hears Bruce land behind him. The moment gone evaporating like morning dew upon red petals. He straightens, ready, he has a job to do, a father to impress.

And maybe that book, that dreadful, wonderful book had been his first taste of bitter love. Through the pages and the words spoken between Prince and Rose, little Jason Todd had savored his first dose of obsession.

You kick him in the shoulder, sending him flying to the skyscraper edge. Jason swings himself up just as you are near to inspect your prey. His knees cage your hips and he uses all his force to push you down.

The stars blink overhead, paparazzi cameras catching a private moment between two masked kids. "Hello, Robin" you purr clawed gloves idly tracing his arm. Jason tries to smile to smirk, to flirt back."H-hello Ki-tty". But the blood rushing to his face has him stunned he can't breathe. Why do you look so pretty like this? Laying on your back staring up at him with big perfect eyes. You tilt your head and meow.

"Hey, that's Miss Kitty to you"...

He likes this new side of you, likes the mace you wield like a whip. It looks like yarn, soft and delicate.

The punchline lands at the same time as the flanged head crashes to his ribs. He thinks they shattered, cartilages cracking, freeing the marrow from within.

So this is what love feels like. Pain that rages from the inside sharp shards piercing soft organ tissue. So painful it tickles and you can feel the blood pooling in your mouth along with all the words you long to say.

No wonder the little prince kept going back to the rose. No wonder he found euphoria in the prick of her thorns.

He struggles to his feet and jumps, as high as he can. His side bruns begging him to stay down. Be he can't, he won't, Bruce wouldn't, and Alfred will find a way to piece him back together. So he takes flight flipping through the air, out of your sight.

For a moment you're stunned lackadaisically twirling your mace like a ballerina's ribbon wand. And even though he's mid attack Jason can't help admiring how ethereal you look, like a lion cub out on her first hunt.

Jason's knees land on your shoulder blades, his weight making you fall on your stomach with a pained scream. Your mace rolls away, thank God, that could have gotten too messy he thinks. Jason tugs hard on your cat ears, pulling back your head and exposing your neck to point a Batarang at your throat. "Here, kitty, kitty" he mocks, playful cadence laced with derision. You hiss out in pain as he brings his head closer. He looks so handsome upside down, like the pretty birds that sing on the balcony.

It's a split second, you raise your head, and the Batarang's wing punctures your collarbone. Your lips push on his, hollow but sweet. You feel his body go ridge his hold on his weapon lost. Still, you persist not breaking your first kiss...

You guess it's his too, you hope it is. Only when you feel his lips push back do you force him off with all your might. Grabbing your mace and jumping to the next rooftop. What is this excitement, so raw, so frantic?

You don't stop running until you make it home.

You don't look back, scared he'll see the bright pink dusting your cheeks.

You open the window and silently slip in.

Only to see Selina waiting in the dark.

Arms crossed and eyebrow raised.

He's baptized by blood and iron.

Broken down bone by bone.

Left to bleed out in the dark on the dirty asylum floor.

Still, he holds your name under his tongue, caged between his teeth.

His little kitten.

Sometimes he pretends you're lying next to him, gazing into his eyes as you too bleed out. Sometimes he laughs at your sarcastic quips at the dreaded clown. No dread is too light a word you'd correct. He finds you more attractive when you spill graphic profanities.

But you're not here, not really. And he can't quite tell if he's happy or not. His hand always reaches out to you. Desperate to feel your warmth, just once more...

And yet he's always met with air.

Always met by the stickiness of his own blood pooling beneath him.

He watches you from afar. Haunting the night, camouflaged amongst the shodws. The still Gotham night feels like a homecoming. A bittersweet reunion with a world that's both abandoned and forgotten him.

The arkham night swallows thickly, from behind his digilitized mask he zooms in on two figures in the distance. Swinging on metal threads, bodies coiled like snakes, latching on. One loses muscle one wrong move and they plummet to their death.

But the figures don't seem scared. You don't seem scared as you laugh at the boy wearing his clothes. No not his clothes, he's made sure to burn them all so very long ago. Instead, the boy wears red and black and yellow, he wears his symbol. But the garments are looser, not carved but built, foreign things covering a boy's body. Not armored built from years of endurance.

Still, you don't seem to mind, you scratch at him playfully as if he were a mouse on a string. You hiss and meow as he laughs and spools sanctimonious gibberish that sounds all so very Bat in nature.

Who else have you been sneaking off with? Jason makes a note to keep a better eye on you.

Jason's ironclad fists meet with Bruce's masked face.

Again and Again. He points his gun beneath his old mentor's ribs and shoots. Feel me he scream inside himself. Feel my pain. From the shadows, something pounces. Familiar nails try to dig into his chest, bypass the iron armor, and impale him.

It doesn't take much force to tug her off of him. He smashes her into the cement. Catwoman lets out an all-so-familiar meowl of pain. His boot meets with her flesh, her bones. Grinding them into the pavement, he can't tell why he wants to hurt her. Does he blame her for your disloyalty, does he want to hurt Bruce? The thoughts grow heavy as his ears buzz with rage. When he finally leaves he tosses a glare behind his shoulder watching the bat crawling toward the cat.

"Don't worry about your Kitten, I'll take better care of her than you ever could." His modulated inhuman voice promises...

It's been all so long since he's thought of roses and baobab tress, so long since he's pretended to be a prince returning to his scared beloved rose. Jason- no the Arkham Knight- corners you on a rooftop as you frantically try to reach your mentor. He watches as you twirl your mace, ready to fight. They're so much hatred behind your eyes, do you really not see him?

Your mace's head swings at his ribs, good to see some things never change, he counters the attack seizing the weapon with one hand. You try to pull it back to bring him to you. Instead, Jason pulls back and you're sent hurling into the thick metal of his chest. Your head spins as you glare up at him. His fingers wrap around your neck squeezing.

squeezing

squeezing

He'll find the new bird later. Crush his skull before your eyes. He'll make you suffer for leaving him. For turning your tretory.

At his base, in an interrogation room, the Arkham Knight slowly starts to peel away your sanity. Breaking your bones, your mind, your essence. Morphing you from the helpless little kitty into a bloodthirsty lioness. Whose only purpose is to be at his beck and call. You'll live for him, die for him. His perfect little pet. And once he knows he's broken your mind completely, the only thoughts swimming around that damaged thing are how to please your master. Then he'll unleash you on Gotham, watching as you tear into your mother's throat, ripping her apart with bare teeth and claws. Just like he will do to his father...

Then, and only then. When Gotham is his, he'll pull away the mask and let you see the man beneath the helm. He'll let you see the man who used to be Jason Todd.

Let me know if you guys ever want a fic or HC on what Jason ends up doing to the reader, I'll try to make it as gorey and darkly romantic as I can. Honestly rn my brain is so fired I can't really come up with anything lol. 😅😅

Love you to the moon and back for this ask Anon!! AAAWWWW Arkham Knight Jason is honestly the LOVE OF MY LIFE!!

[nocek]

Continuing the theme of Wade being scared and horny opportunist. Also a very important question for a bonus gratuitous panel that will happen because Migs is a man of his (sleepy) word:

[imsofreakingtired]

You: I wanna climb out on the roof and shout out: I am a lesbian who is in love with Sevika Jain, who is also a lesbian

Sevika: Okay, well, let's have breakfast first.

Sevika: And then go to work.

Sevika: And then let's not do that.

[demigods-posts]

me personally. i wouldn't have gone after all the olympians at once. you're biting off more than you can chew here. all you would need to do is take each olympian out one by one. and then convince demigods that once enough people stop believing in a diety, that diety ceases to exist. which is not a lie. and you could use the death of pan to back yourself up. sure, you'd be in it for the long haul. but chess isn't meant to be a quick game.

[mumblesplash]

reel life

[fluffylino]

Strawberry Cow ! Chan 🌸🍓🌸

he's not just any kind of hybrid...he's the first ever 'male' cow you've ever met. chan's a sweetheart, even more so when he's milked...

(i was suppozed to write this a year ago and finally here it is, enjoy lovelies <333)

reblogging > liking

part two

-contains mildly suggestive themes

Hybrids were pretty much accepted into this world of ours. they were treated like humans, with respect (most of the time) and accepted into society quite easily.

And somehow you found yourself accidently conversing with one particular male hybrid.

he was handsome.

so incredibly beautiful, it made you question if he was even real.

two horns on either side of his head and a pair of fluffy white ears twitched beneath them. it wasn't a white that hits the eye, it was a white that looked like freshly whipped cream. with soft fur that was slightly longer than usual.

you weren't quite sure what species he was. it was difficult to make out and honestly nervewracking to ask a hybrid that kind of question.

it was almost the same as asking a human if they were a person of colour, as if they were of ethnic descent.

he could be a gazelle? maybe a buck?

but his horns weren't so sleek and thin. they were neither black in colour.

instead his thicker horns were a complete contrast to his dark hair.

a bull, maybe? or did he dye his hair?

you were about to lose your mind.

"I'm actually a cow hybrid..." he let out so quietly, with a nervous smile. Damn, he was too beautiful for his own good.

"I've never seen a cow hybrid" you mutter without much thought.

instantly regretting your statement upon seeing his awkward stance.

"no no i meant i've never seen a cow hybrid as handsome as you" waving your hands dramatically to clear the tense air.

"as...handsome as..me?" he mumbles and you were sure your heart stopped beating.

"oh god it was wrong of me to assume what you are and how you'd prefer to be addressed-"

your voice dying down as you hear him laugh.

its such a soft laugh, it goes straight to your heart. neither mocking nor a loud one. soothing to the ears.

"i'm sorry if i'm so shaky...its been a long time since anyone has ever..complimented me..."

you sighed in relief, letting a smile creep up on your face. his cheeks dusted with a light shade of pink and you knew you looked as shy as him.

The small coffee joint was beginning to crowd and it seemed that neither of y'all liked crowded spaces.

the cow hybrid slowly stood up, straightening his posture and your eyes widened.

he was well built, a good height compared to yours and his muscles were defined enough to leave an imprint on the shirt he was wearing. loosely buttoned up and hanging low on his collar. Black really was his colour...

you mentioned his build, complimenting him to the point his ears were redder than ever. shy little giggles escaping his plush lips. gosh...

his lips made you want to kiss him senseless.

"could we..uhm...be friends or uh more...i mean-" he mumbles, stuttering so sweetly.

"of course, darling. but you never quite told me your name?" you coo.

"I'm chan or...you can..call me chris"

he smiled continously as you told him your name and how you come by here often.

his ear twitching excitedly when the two of y'all share phone numbers. promising to keep in touch in the days to come.

.

🌸

.

Chan was a lot different from your first meeting. considering the fact that nearly a month or more than a month had passed.

you happened to find out how much a hybrid like him had to go through. to you, he was an ordinary cow hybrid. but chan explained how the term 'ordinary' never existed in his vocabulary.

of course you knew he was a male but what did not strike you was the fact that he shouldve been called a bull.

Instead he was classified under cow, making him a proper cow hybrid.

Taking into consideration that he was also a male, made it difficult for him to lead his life as usual. bodily changes and phenomenon occurring during certain periods made the poor hybrid's life tougher.

Cases like him were rare, not exactly non existent.

.

.

His room was unimaginably aesthetic. changing colours that faded to pink and purple, sometimes gold.

one thing you realised was his love for the colour black. laughing when he opens his cupboard. it was a black hole in there with numerous clothes lined up.

making yourself comfortable on his bed, you noticed how on-edge he was. his behaviour much different, extra shy as he sheepishly sat beside you. your backs resting against the wooden headboard.

"why'd you call me here, channie?" you asked, smiling at the way his thin sleek tail swished around.

his eyes gaze at you with such pureness, you blurt out another statement.

"I mean, i'd spend my entire day or even week with you if you wanted! but i just got a bit worried because you called me here oit of the blue, baby"

reassuring him while patting his knee lovingly.

"I..I wanted to come c-clear about myself"

you nodded, urging him to go on. he pauses, looking at you for a few seconds. theres this nervousness in his energy and you scooch closer to him.

"I lactate...almost every four days, sometimes every two days depending on tge weather..." gazing at you sweetly.

"yes, im aware channie"

"you know about-" his eyes widen, surprise in his tone.

"of course I do, did you really think I wouldn't find ways to help you after you told me how hard your day to day life is"

you joked lightly.

"if i don't...milk myself every now and then, I feel full. like heavy.."

you squeeze his hand fondly, interlocking your fingers.

"do you do it manually? or do you use some kind of device?"

from his expression and body language, you could see him grow comfortable.

"manually...pumps are quite the price"

you gasp, wondering if you pried a little too deep. chan takes it as you being weirded out but you stop him before he starts overthinking.

"no no no sweerheart, i was just surprised that you did it manually for so many years"

"i've tried a pump once or twice...but i don't like the feeling...it made me feel like an object..." he pauses, cheeks turning pink as ever before he continues.

"whenever i...uhm my chest swells and gets really sensitive..."

well that was new info to you.

"like mine?" you let out, laughing as his ears twitch and he blinks furiously.

"w-what do you mean-"

"I meant like does your chest get to like my size? i'm pretty average but does yours get bigger?"

the strawberry cow hybrid blushed.

"it depends! on m-my mood and..uhm everything"

.

🍬

.

"Chris?! what's wrong?"

worry filling your mind. the hybrid looked distressed and out of his senses. sweating profusely.

"its n-nothing, I don't feel so good" he tried to reassure although it wasn't quite reassuring to you.

his fluffy ears were lopsided and his tail swished around desperately

you cupped his face gently. his reaction waw everything. nuzzling into your palm. it was obvious. it was happening.

"channie. baby look at me"

you urged, making him focus on you. and only you.

"do you want me to help you?"

"help...help with milking me? p-please?" his tone gentle and he uttered a small plea.

"just place your hand h-here and massage slowly"

his bigger hand held onto yours as he pressed your palm flat on his chest. he was right. his chest was swell and warmer than ever.

"do you mind, baby.."

obediently he held his shirt between his teeth. gnawing on the material. you let your hand run over his toned abdomen. feeling up his tense muscles.

"y-you're so fit, channie" he grunted softly.

his milk running down your fingers slowly. with every massage, more seeped out of his pretty nubs.

unconciously you stuck your tongue out, licking up the droplets that rolled down the expanse of his chest.

"ah don't let it g-go to waste p-please please"

begging you to drink more. his hands squeezing yours. whining so sweetly as you sucked his pumped up chest. his breathing quick and shaky.

god, you wanted to corrupt him...

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fuck...part 2?

should i?!

this concept to me, is so hot!!!!!

i wrote a part two-