#that can go die on the vine for now

[phatburd]

🧙‍♀️

[apothecareful]

telling nick about all the stupid things my coworkers and i do on the line to keep each other in a good mood is everything to me rn

[lightseoul]

cw. worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), a lot of cussing (bkg-typical), reader is implied to be smaller than bkg, some angst (or a lot? :0)

words. 3k (ofc had to end it with a bang)

a/n. see the end of the post for a message from me, as well as the title reveal of the series! hope you enjoy this ending <3

masterlist | part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8

The fairy lights strewn across your walls and interwoven with fake vines finally flicker out, robbing you of your clear view of the ceiling, leaving you in a sea of darkness with the only source of light being the sliver of sunshine that’s entering through the small gap between your curtains.

You heave a heavy sigh, vaguely seeing your chest rise with the action, your legs tangled in a messy heap of your blanket and pillows.

Replace the damned batteries—again, you make a mental note while side-eyeing the alarm clock that reads 8:37 AM.

Rolling your torso to the right side in a stretch, you groan as your hips make a loud cracking sound.

You can’t remember the last time you intentionally moved your body like this—at least, not for the last two days.

Ever since you got home that Friday night from Bakugou’s parents’ house for Thanksgiving, you haven’t exactly been attuned to your body and what it’s telling you its needs are.

As much as you’d hate to admit it, you’ve been way too in your head since then, going over every interaction with Mitsuki and Masaru, pinpointing every lie you spat out, and replaying in your head the delighted reactions they paid you back in return. And with each re-run came a new wave of nausea and the pitiful urge to collapse in a boneless heap.

You can’t even bear to think about how they’d react once they find out everything’s a sham.

God, Mitsuki’s gonna have a heart attack and die before she even gets the chance to enjoy retirement with her husband.

Needless to say, you barely managed to sleep a wink that night, too heavily preoccupied with your guilt and paranoia to even get a half-hour straight stretch of rest in.

The weekend that followed wasn’t any better.

The worries expanded from Bakugou’s family and how they’d react to his friend group, and god forbid Kirishima and Mina and Sero and even Kaminari find out and you painfully witness palpable disappointment flash across their kind features.

Especially after they welcomed you that warmly into their squad and even went out of their way to conjure stories about Bakugou to make you laugh and enjoy yourself.

By Sunday afternoon, you finally decided you were in no shape to prepare for all the work needed to be done for the next day, let alone show up to the agency and face everyone.

Particularly Bakugou.

The thought of whom has been causing puzzling physical sensations that you find messes with your rationality and causes your chest to ache, frustrating you even more and furthering your resolve to avoid things for now until you can come up with a solution to the situation at hand.

And so with an email sent to Hikari about filing for a sick leave tomorrow and her having to step in for a meeting with the founders and department heads on the day of, as well as a reply expressing her affirmation later, you buried yourself in your queen-sized bed and doom-scrolled to distract yourself until you fell into a fitted sleep.

Which leads you to now.

With you, again, staring at the ceiling, the sounds of nothing but distant honks and a gust of wind entering through the windows breaking the silence.

At least, that is the case until a barrage of weighty knocks echoes throughout your apartment and into the doorway of your bedroom.

Almost instantly, you sit up in alarm, and you’re immediately hit with gut-wrenching dizziness from the action. Despite that, you stumble out of your bed in a hurry, swiftly adjusting your pajamas and baggy T-shirt as you shimmy your socked feet into your house slippers before running to the foyer.

Your heart is hammering in fear as you tiptoe to peek at the intruder through your peephole, thoughts racing as to who the fuck could this person possibly be, visiting at not even 9 AM on a Monday.

You’re bracing yourself to see the ghost of Christmas past who just happened to visit a little early, whoever the fuck that person could be in your life, and for your stomach to drop in horror at the sight of them, only it isn’t someone from your past.

No, it’s someone from your present.

Someone who’s very much in your present.

Yet your stomach drops nevertheless.

Through the hole, Bakugou is studying the unit number hung on your apartment door, brows furrowed in what you think is confusion and a tinge of impatience. He’s decked in his winter hero costume, although his eyepiece is up against just above his forehead, pinning down his notoriously unruly ash blonde hair. You almost miss it, but he seems to be carrying a plastic bag with his left hand.

You feel your throat dry up at the sight of him, and you’ve half a mind to do a complete 180 and tiptoe back to your bed and just pretend you’re not home when he knocks again, only this time the knocking’s more insistent.

Despite yourself, you still jump at the sound, and you chalk it up to your nerves being indubitably fried from three days of constant worrying.

You glance longingly at your bedroom, itching to dive into your sheets, drown out the rest of the world, and pretend you’re not in the middle of the mess you’ve inadvertently made. But as you look back at the door and the sound echoing from its direction, you’re washed with an uncanny sense of shame.

What happened to facing your fears head-on?

With a few soothing circles to your chest where your heart is approximately at in an effort to ground yourself, you take a few cautious steps towards the door, hand slightly shaking as you reach out to hold the knob.

Here goes fucking nothing.

Bakugou’s in the middle of still rapping at your door when you finally twist the handle and fling the slab of wood wide open, revealing the man with his right fist frozen mid-air, a prominently surprised look plastered across his features, as if he didn’t expect anyone, let alone you, to open the goddamn door even with his absurd knocking.

You force a smile onto your face, although you can tell it probably looks more pained than anything. “Bakugou.”

At the sound of his name, it’s almost as if he snaps out of a trance because he quickly brings down his raised hand, clearing his throat in the process. And almost immediately after, an eyebrow raises in question.

He opens his mouth to speak, and you couldn’t have ever guessed what he’d say next if you tried.

“…You don’t look like shit?”

You gawk, “Excuse me?”

Bakugou frowns, as if you’re the one not making any sense. “I thought you were sick.”

With that, he thrusts the plastic bag he’s been carrying to you.

Your eyes dart down to inspect it, before looking back up at the man in confusion.

He huffs, “‘s care package, is all. Come on, fucking take it.”

Not knowing what else to do, you gingerly take the bag off his hands, opting to cradle it with both arms and hold it close to your chest. You give him a quiet thanks, to which he just nods in acknowledgment.

You both stand there in awkward silence for what feels like minutes, neither of you saying anything. It’s only when you catch Bakugou peeking at your living room above your head that you remember basic courtesy.

“…You want to come in?��� you meekly ask, conflicted as to whether or not you prefer a decline from the pro-hero.

To your chagrin, or delight—you don’t fucking know—he replies with a curt ‘Sure’ before squeezing in through your doorframe and toeing off his boots.

Against the backdrop of your rather modest home, pro-hero Dynamight looks completely out of place. His bulky figure further dwarfs your small decorative knickknacks, and his black and orange pieces stand in stark contrast against the earthy tones of your furniture.

Suddenly remembering you’re fucking staring, you lift your eyes back up to Bakugou’s face, only to find him already studying you.

You quickly scramble for something to say.

“H-how’d you get up here?”

“…The elevator?” he answers, with too much of an ‘are you dumb’ undertone for your liking.

You huff, “No, I meant how’d you get past the security and receptionist? And I don’t remember ever mentioning what floor and unit I lived in.”

To that, Bakugou only shrugs. “The guard recognized me. Even asked for a fucking photo. And when I asked about you, he was quick to give me your details.”

“Seriously?!”

Bakugou has the audacity to roll his eyes, before: “He knows about us, dumbass. Said he read it in the news.”

Oh.

“R-right,” you dumbly reply. “Sorry.”

Bakugou doesn’t say anything, only shaking his head in what you think is dismissal. He shifts his weight to his other leg from where he’s standing near the backrest of your couch, a few feet away from you awkwardly leaning against the kitchen island where you’ve placed his gift bag.

When you meet his gaze again after a brief moment, he’s already looking at you expectantly.

“What?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

“Why are you not at work?”

You absolutely can’t with his fucking bluntness.

“I’m sick,” you lie, surprising yourself with how smoothly it tumbles out of your mouth.

You’ve had plenty of practice after all.

But apparently, not enough to fool Bakugou.

“Bullshit.”

Instantly, you feel a wave of indignation wash over you, together with a sense of deja vu—as if this conversation has happened before.

“I don’t think you’re my fucking thermometer, Bakugou,” you snap, unable to rein in your anger.

“Really, now?” he retorts, not missing a beat. “How ‘bout we use the thermometer I brought you and see what that has to say, hah?”

Before he can even move towards you to grab the tool from where it’s sitting behind you, you blindly reach for the bag behind you and bring it to your front, clutching it close to your chest.

“No.”

At your move, a devilish sneer invades his features. “So you’re admitting it, then?”

You purse your lips in a tight line, already teeming with irritation. “I don’t owe you an explanation. My request’s already been approved by HR.”

“But why?” he presses, eyebrows seemingly permanently furrowed. “You never take time off unless it’s a major emergency or some shit.”

“And you don’t just take off and abandon your patrol duties, yet here you are,” you quip, not knowing how else to respond to his accusation because it’s true.

“I didn’t abandon patrol,” he spits back, “I had Eijirou cover for me.”

That’s it.

“Well, I’m sorry I’m a goddamn mess, right now, okay?” you finally cry, throwing your hands up as if gesturing a surrender. “Can’t a person have just one day of not having to fucking lie to everyone?”

To your surprise, Bakugou doesn’t bite back and bark a harsh reply. Instead, he only stares at you expectantly, wordlessly coaxing you to explain.

And you don’t know what it is about it, but his borderline concerned gaze is the catalyst that causes the proverbial dam to break open and for everything to come flooding out.

Your voice is so pathetically small when the words finally come out.

“…Bakugou, why are we even doing this?”

Again, he doesn’t say anything, and you take his silence as an opportunity to keep going.

“You know, at first, I thought I—no, we—had a rationale,” you start, looking at everything else in the room but him. “I wanted to get back at my ex, and you, for some reason, wanted to be a hero and get back at him…too? Okay, shit, it’s already getting confusing.”

At that, Bakugou scoffs. “Quit making me sound like an aimless dumbass, idiot. I just hate ugly ass douchebags.” He crosses his buff arms in front of his chest, “It’s a personal goal of mine to make them pay.”

You eye him suspiciously, not exactly sold on his answer, but you press on.

“Okay… And so we—I did—exactly that by punching him at his wedding. Which brought us unnecessary attention from the press, eventually pushing and forcing us to act like we’re dating around everyone.

“And we’ve done exactly that!” you bemoan, “Around your closest friends, even around your sweet, innocent parents, for crying out loud!”

You finally will yourself to look at Bakugou, and he looks like he’s about to say something but you cut him off before he can.

If you don’t get this out now, you doubt you’ll ever get another chance to do so.

“It’s just—I—I don’t think I can do this anymore, Bakugou,” you finally say, shoulders sagging in relief at finally having said aloud what’s been haunting your mind.

You look at him squarely, injecting as much conviction as you can into your tone for what you’re about to say next.

Because, you now realize, it’s the one thing that’s been plaguing you the most.

“I don’t want to cause you to fuck up your life any more than I already have.”

You study his face, bracing yourself for a spectrum of reactions you can potentially elicit from the man. You watch as his jaw visibly clenches, and it bewilders you how he can look so pained when, no matter how much you rack your brain for a reason, there’s nothing in it for him in this silly, not-so-little arrangement of yours.

Except, maybe a bit of self-satisfaction and amusement over having helped a damsel in distress.

A few minutes of silence pass with neither of you saying anything.

“…Bakugou?” you finally ask, voice small.

Suddenly the previous expression that was just on his face morphs into a full-on scowl, so much so that the man looks like he’s about to combust any second now.

And erupt he does.

“You have some fucking nerve, you know that?”

Again, and despite yourself, a pulse of fury courses through your body, but before you can even spew your own venom in your defense, Bakugou beats you to it.

“Who gave you the fucking right?”

You’re fuming. “Who gave me the fucking right to what?”

“To fucking walk into my life, just like that!” he snaps, shutting you up.

He shakes his head, disbelieving and seemingly resigned. “Like you had any business strutting in looking so fucking pretty, and then you had to put a nail on the coffin by being the best at your job like it’s no big fucking deal? You put all the agency’s useless executives to shame with how hard you work and how good you are at it.

“And you go ahead and punch the guy who’s been a complete dickhead to you and then worry about how you ruined his wedding. And you say all this nice shit to me and my friends and my family like it’s fucking nothing.”

His hand shoots up to pinch the bridge of his nose, like he’s feeling a headache creeping in, before he drops it in favor of turning to fully glare at you.

“But now you have the gall to call it quits when I’m just starting to get used to this? It’s—you—you’re something else.

“You’re a fucking pain in my ass, you know that?”

Robbed of all words and eyes wide as saucers, the only thing you can choke out is: “W-what are you trying to say?”

At that, Bakugou scoffs. “You really are a fucking dumbass, aren’t you?”

But you don’t even get to retort a defense, or even get the slightest bit offended at his remark, because in the blink of an eye, Bakugou is on the move—purposefully stalking towards you.

And just like that, he pulls you into a searing kiss.

You think you might have squeaked in shock at the contact, but that thought is suddenly overwritten in your mind the moment you feel his big hand rest on the space between your neck and shoulder, while the other remains firm holding your chin in place.

Your eyes flutter close at the intensely warm feeling, and before you get to talk yourself out of it, you kiss him back, and Bakugou’s grip on you tightens when you do so.

And as you revel in the softness of his lips and the fervent way he’s kissing you like he’s been waiting to do this for as long as he could fathom, everything finally dawns on you.

Your feelings—your true feelings—and the fact that you’ve been in denial all along; an idiot who chose what to see and hear and believe to protect herself from hoping and potentially getting disappointed in the end.

But this?

This.

This is the farthest thing from disappointment.

Finally, and maybe a little too soon to your liking, Bakugou slowly pulls a few inches away, and the boyish grin that’s now decorating his beautiful features causes your heart to throb so painfully that it almost hurts—in a good way.

With his two hands that are now resting on your shoulders, he squeezes the flesh, bringing you somewhat back to reality.

“That answer your question, princess?”

Despite yourself, you flush, but now you find that you don’t mind Bakugou noticing, what with the wave of warmth that floods you at the view of him grinning even wider at the sight of you.

Not trusting your voice not to crack just yet, you can only nod as you smile and feel tears slowly pooling your eyes. And not wanting for him to see them, at least for now lest he worries, you quickly blink them away before leaning forward to rest your forehead against his.

And he leans his against yours.

A few moments pass before he speaks up again.

“…Fucking finally.”

“Fucking finally…you have a girlfriend?” you jokingly reference his best friend, although despite the playfulness of the quip your heart is hammering at the suggestion and silently begging, begging for an affirmation.

But what he ends up giving you is lightyears further than that.

Bakugou shakes his head, tipping your chin up so that you’re looking straight into his eyes.

He grins.

“Fucking finally I have you.”

a/n. not to be emotional out here, but this series was such a joy to work on. i haven't written in a year and a half since this series, what with my depression having gotten really bad. i'm nowhere near better, but the process of working on this series and interacting with you all really gave me a sense of fulfillment that i haven't felt in the longest time. with that, i want to thank you all for the support and love <3 this wouldn't have been as enjoyable without you all!

and so drum roll, please; the title of the series is: the wonderful mess that we made (from the song flaws by bastille). a separate masterlist for this will be posted soon, so pls keep an eye out for that :,)

lastly, i'd love to hear from you about how you found the series! my replies, tags, and asks are always open <3

tagging. @kitthepurplepotato @katsukis1wife @brunnetteiwik @bunnysaursushii @beab19 @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @lovra974 @chelbyisbord @k0z3me @meeeepsworld @asura-rose @dragonscribble @moonz33 @citrustsuki @deadhands69 @lemuhr @rosemarygalaxy @iluv-ace @eyesforbkg @carpe000diem @shushbruv @matchat3a @ttalgi @bakunianadecorazon @the2ndl @keiscwsz @onlyisaa @aizawa19 @471323 @bakugosgothhoe @bleublooded @msjaeger @ellielover69

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 they make the biggest difference! have an awesome day ( ˘ ³˘)

[ataraxiaspainting]

Black and Blue.

Yan Blade x GN Reader.

Synopsis: Blade has a habit of leaving swords on his opponents’ graves. You have a habit of picking flowers near those who are dead. Unfortunately for you, those two things combined had you meet the immortal Stellaron Hunter for the first time.

Warnings: Yandere themes, descriptions of past violence, and implications of a future unhealthy relationship/stalking.

Word Count: 700.

*~*~*~*

“Why… are you staring at me?”

Your body isn’t well covered, Blade notes as he steps a bit back to take in the full sight of you. Your arms are paler than the snow here.

One of your hands grasps the stems of the flowers you had just plucked from an important resting place. It’s deep and just as old as Blade is judging by the crumbled stone bricks and withering vines yet none of the winter elements seem to cover it. Someone or some people must keep it clean to honor the dead. 

Your grip is so tightly that the thorns have dug into your skin and have started to make you bleed. Aside from the roses, your wounds and Blade’s eyes are the only bright red things in the vicinity. 

The clouds of Morana haven’t set in a long time. They cast over this planet like a mist so thick Blade had trouble navigating himself to the top of this mountain. The humans here have angered the long-fallen Aeon, causing her to seek revenge on her people.

It isn’t the first time an Aeon has made sure their followers have tragic fates ahead. Blade knows, and so do people that the Xianzhou have long removed from their historical records.

“You’re a thief,” He replies, his voice slow and steady – afraid that you will run if he is too harsh. “This grave belongs to the late Caterina the Great.”

“Flowers only grow here and nowhere else,” You reply, your tone less scared but more annoyed now. Perhaps you have realized that Blade isn’t from Morana. “It’s too cold down there. This is the only way I can pay for food without stealing it. Please understand…”

He only hums as he listens further, yet he only tries to make sense of his emotions in this present moment.

Is this pity he feels?

No. It’s something else.

Something not like pity, but relatability. 

You have been through plenty; it is as obvious as a fact like a dog’s nature is to be loyal. Your clothes are tattered. You’re shivering from having no warm place to go. But unlike when he was a wanderer with nowhere to go and nothing to hold but his sword, you could die in so many ways here. Someone can have you executed if there are other witnesses to you stepping on a war hero’s grave so carelessly. The elements can freeze your bloodstream if it gets too cold. The mountain itself can have a tree fall on you like your fallen Aeon put all of her hatred into a singular action and positioned it at a singular person. 

The old sword is pushed into the snow in front of your bare feet, and you stop speaking.

“Be more careful next time,” Blade says. “You’ll get hurt if someone sees you.”

He points and you follow his gloved finger. 

“Take it.”

“What?”

“Take the sword,” He orders, and then quickly removes his gloves. He puts them in your palm. “It’s old. It should be enough for a while.”

“Do you mean… sell it?” You are bewildered.

“If that is what you wish, go ahead.” Blade then removes his jacket and sets it on your shoulders. “Or use it to defend yourself. I am not familiar with Morana culture, but you most likely are. Trust your gut when making this decision.”

He’ll follow you after, he decides. For a while. Maybe forever, if Kafka doesn’t allow you on the ship.

[lilacgaby]

‧₊˚ to kiss or kill.. a vampire?‧₊˚

you've been a vampire for as long as you can remember. you were going through your day, or night, routine as normal when a noise startles you. a man, katsuki bakugo to be exact, was standing at your door. though, he can't seem to remember whether he's supposed to kill or kiss you...

★pair. knight(?)katsuki x vampire!reader. tags. fem!reader, fantasy!au, vampire!au, amnesia trope, memories, kissing, hugging, dates kinda, blood, daggers, stakes. wc. 2k.

noteღ. i love the memory loss trope but its hard to write it in a way that doesn't seem like lazy(???) idk how to say it, also happy halloween to all who celebrate!

embedded deep in the forest, vines growing over the bark of the trees, the sun not visible from the impressive manor you called home.

a lake so deep you couldn't see the bottom, the moonlight the only thing reflecting off the darkness of the water.

it was quiet, quaint. only the animals as company for such a faraway place.

you roamed freely around your garden, tending to the black rose bushes and cutting the thorns to an appropriate length. feeding carrots you only grew for the deer and bunnies that had grown used to your presence, seeing the generations of them rest and birth, a consequence of being immortal.

your outfit was dark, camouflaging you against the night sky, the only time you were able to go out. you'd grown used to it, comforted by the night sky and sleeping critters around you.

but a crunch of grass snapped you out of your relaxation. the tuft of blond hair you'd spotted alarming you.

your pot of water was now splashed onto the floor, your red eyes were widened and pupils like a cat as you moved out of vision. vision of whoever was trampling into your long uncivilized manor.

it was a man, donning expensive yet ripped up fabrics and cloths, a beaten up satchel, and bright hair that stood out against the night sky.

you couldn't help but notice though, that he had red eyes just like yours.

he must be a vampire, you reasoned, moving closer to investigate the man who was unmoving at your door. you popped out from behind him. “who are you and why are you here?”

he jumped, seemingly not expecting you to be behind him. “i'm.. lost. i can't seem to find my way. or.. remember what i was doing here.” he turned to face you, his figure towering over yours, his eyes on you. “you don't remember anything? is it possible that you've been hit with a strong spell?”

you kept talking while looking over at his complete attire now, noting the royal emblem on his chest.

“it's possible.. i don't remember what i do exactly.” his red eyes kept boring into you, striking you with a sense of familiarity, though you couldn't place from where. “well, you can stay here for the night. i have spare rooms.”

his eyes widened slightly, his eyebrows raising. “really, you're inviting me in? what if i was a vampire?”

“well, no need to fear one of my own.”

his mouth went agape when he realized. “you're a vampire.”

“yes. does that change anything?”

“i.. guess not.” a hand went to the back of his neck, his eyes averting as he looked up in thought. “it's just surprising. i think.. i feel a connection to the word. to its meaning. i must have been- sorry be- a vampire. don't you agree?”

“let's talk more inside. if you are a vampire as you believe, we'll die if we're outside another hour...” you left it open ended as to ask for his name.

“katsuki. call me katsuki.”

“well katsuki. welcome in, don't suck my blood or something.” you joked.

as he followed you inside, he awed internally at the extravagance of your mansion. it definitely was the home of a vampire, as all the windows were closed and barricaded.

“i haven't had many guests over for a while.. so. excuse the mess.” he followed you as you showed him the different parts of your home. he passed by the kitchen, so gorgeous that he felt upset when you noted how you only used it to make food for the animals outside. you showed him your bedroom, which only housed a single, heavily padded coffin.

you went upstairs finally, your mansion was huge so he began to notice the ache in his feet. when you arrived in your lounge area though, he felt a pang in his head as he eyed a dagger. a silver one.

memories flooded into his head at once, making him hold his head in discomfort.

words. so many replayed in his mind though they were incoherent. sights of blood, of one of those very daggers in his hand, a stake in the other.

“ėřīdɯǎʌ ħ ʇ ľļ ʞ”

he couldn't understand it at all, the visions in his mind were playing and flashing right after another.

training, studying vitals, the word vampire. why did it seem so familiar?

“katsuki. are you okay?” your hands were on his shoulders now, your face of concern went unnoticed by him, his eyes were only laser focused on the sharp fangs of your mouth.

“i–. i– um. i don't know what the fuck happened to me.” he admitted, he still felt weak from the confusion revelations that had unfolded in his mind.

“maybe.. you should head to bed for the day. i have a bed for you in here.”

you took his hand, he almost pulled away, he didn't know why it still felt so bloody. why it felt like he was holding an unseen weapon in his palm. but he let you comfort him slightly anyways.

you laid a towel onto his forehead, closing the door with a, “goodnight.”

you left him resting with his thoughts as you continued your chores outside.

it was obvious he wasn't a vampire like he thought. he wasn't nocturnal like you. the sight of the blood bags you had left cooling in a safe him feel queasy, and he could touch metal just fine. he found himself tracing the details of the dagger in your living room mindlessly, enthralled with it. it felt just as familiar as your eyes did. he was sure it would feel just as right in his hand, he moved to pick it up when-

“what are you doing?” you asked sleepily. your attire from yesterday was gone, replaced with casual clothes that didn't seem to fit you. “..i just got curious.”

he stared at you. the crimson of his eyes confusing you to no end, but you let it go with a sigh. “well, stop messing with that stuff. like seriously.”

he took your warning. but the strange memories never went away. though, he noticed that they'd only really pop up around you.

he'd gotten to know you in the couple hours of the first day he spent with you. your favorite color, food before you turned, your true age, your favorite flower.

and you'd gotten to know the vague things he remembered about himself in exchange. how he grew up in a village, how he remembers training hard everyday to become a knight, how he grew up with the next in line for the throne.

you'd traveled around the forest with him, showing him some of your favorite spots. pointing to nearby towns and taverns, warning him to stay away from spots where werewolves would roam frequently.

you'd gotten him a new wardrobe of clothing that happened to match yours. black button downs and slacks with red accents, something that suited him perfectly, was what you had gifted him.

he tried to gift you things as well. it was unfortunate that his gift for cuisine went wasted on you, who couldn't eat food. he picked you flowers from different regions of the forest you wouldn't venture to. dandelions that he insisted you'd blow out together, red roses that paired perfectly with your black ones, and baby’s breath sprinkled tastefully in between.

the words grew less scrambled over the days of which he spent with you. it'd been a month of living with him at this point, and your life together had become routine. the pangs where he'd keel over for seconds in real time, but hours in his mind happened more frequently too. the same visions of blood on his hands, a dagger identical to the one displayed in your home would always be there. but additions of a torch in his hand and a dagger would change. the memory would change, which confused him.

he'd be lying if he said he didn't like the calm nature of your life together. the tranquil feeling of feeding the bunnies and deers alongside you, the rushing sound of the lake as you sat side by side admiring it.

the feeling of your skin, cold to the touch, on his body that seemed to run too hot.

your open-minded nature, the lingering loss of your presence he'd feel when you were gone.

though, he now could hear some parts of the sentence quite clearly.

“k– the vampire.”

as he laid around on one of the many couches of your manor, petting a black cat, he pondered on what the last word could be. he knew it could only be one of two words, he wasn't dumb.

to kiss or to kill. but what reason was he given to kill you? you'd been nothing but amazing to him, welcome and open when he was vulnerable. the only thing you'd been strange about– the only thing he felt he wanted.

was to hold the dagger in his hand.

he laid the cat onto the side of the couch before standing up. it was like an invisible force was leading him away, taking him right to his object of interest that he had been so hyper aware of since the day he arrived.

every step he took was like a piece of the puzzle being put into place.

he was hit by a memory loss potion while he was out on patrol.

patrol for the kingdom, where he served as a knight. however, after many vampire hunters had gone missing in this part of the forest..

he had been sent out here.

he opened his satchel that he'd thrown into the corner. affirming his thoughts, a dagger, identical to the one on the stand was in it.

next to it was a stake, and a torch with an ignition next to that.

he stood up, the final words given to him. but it didn't feel as good as he thought it would.

“kill the vampire.”

because the order was to hurt someone who'd grown so dear to him.

…

was it wrong for him to continue acting like nothing was wrong? maybe. but he couldn't help but still continue to be enamored by you, even if it was wrong.

the stereotypes, the horror stories he'd been fed of vampires. as he held you close to him in the comfort of your coffin, he didn't know what to do anymore.

as he guided you to the lake, he wasn't sure of what he would do. he had his satchel with him now, yet he still held your hand in his.

“are you leaving?” you asked, unknowing of the war taking place in his mind.

“no. i just, wanted to bring it along.”

“oh. okay.” you'd shrugged, unfazed by his words. he felt his heart bleed, bleed because you trusted him so much, but also tugged towards his sense of duty.

you'd sat together again, his body facing the same lake that had guided him to you. he felt your gaze on his face, he squeezed his palm into a fist.

“what's wrong?” you asked, your voice low, you held the long sleeves of your black outfit as your eyebrows scrunched in concern. “you've been acting weird.”

“i.. my memory. it came back.”

your eyes shot up, before a small smile came over your face. “really, that's great katsuki. so,

what were you doing out here?”

the words lingered in the air, his eye painstakingly moving to look at you. his mouth was held open for a second, seemingly speechless as he tried to tell you. he finally, just let it slip. “i was supposed to kill you, [name].”

you stilled, he continued to explain. “it all happened once i saw the dagger. it eyed me, and i eyed it. it seemed so familiar, your eyes did too. until it all came back.” he took a sharp breath and continued.

“men, vampire hunters of the kingdom specifically, went missing around these parts. i was sent here to find the vampire and kill them. but i was ambushed along the way by a witch who hit me with a spell.” his hand moved to his satchel, you stayed unmoving as you absorbed his words.

he held the stake and dagger in his hands respectively, the materials that would kill you if pierced glistening ominously in the moonlight. the same moonlight that encapsulated you two.

“i thought it over. a lot. thought about what i wanted, no. what i thought was right.” he gripped them tightly, holding them up.

you closed your eyes, as you heard the words, “goodbye.”

but death, the feeling of wood piercing your heart never came. the splash of the water was the only sound heart by you, who had tearfully looked to face him.

“what?” was all you could helplessly utter, as he kneeled to sit in front of you:

“..i don't want to kill you [name].” he moved to hold your hand, cold as ever, against the beating heart of his chest. “but i'd like to kiss you, honestly.”

you let out a shaky laugh, a tear falling down your face as you sighed in relief. “i think i'd like that too.”

as the last bubbles burst at the surface of the lake, he tilted your head forward, holding your chin in between his fingertips as he gently kissed you. only the grass between your bodies bore witness to the newly born relationship forged by trust ignited.

the full moon now faced you two. he held your hand tightly, encaging you with the broad of his body.

he saw the moon start to slip away and picked you up, taking you to the bedroom you'd gifted him and laying you by his side.

he'd turned practically nocturnal too from these past weeks, the desire to be by your side fueling him.

so as he laid with his eyes half lidded, looking at you in the dim candlelight of the room, he held you impossibly closer.

he wanted to spend an eternity with you. maybe he'd truly cast his old life aside and become a vampire alongside you.

that thought rocked him to sleep that night, your body like a puzzle piece next to his.

who knew all you'd have to do to kiss a vampire is cast your old life aside?

tags. @k0z3me @darhinadadragon @maddietries @exoticrasin @lavendarstarz @hisonlyobsession @i-the-fluffo @uy242c @cookielovesbook-akie @frosted-flakes @irenne-stans @kemziicore

[r0-boat]

Whb Kings' AFAB!s/o pregnant.

Cw: some suggestive bits but overall sfw, pregnancy.

Devils are more animalistic than angels or humans. They've never had a mate of the opposite sex from birth since they've always had Solomon. At least demons especially the Kings have never had their own child since Lilith was not there for them to wish upon. Out of all the kings except for asmodeus none experienced their mate growing their child inside of them. Until now

Satan

He doesn't know why he's becoming more short-tempered lately. It was unusual even for the demon of wrath. He is on edge. He has been for a while. Everything inside of him is telling him something has changed, but he doesn't know what.

He has been pacing in a circle like a tiger He hasn't been sleeping (if he had been sleeping at all) And he has been tearing apart more shit It his Castle.

He has been separated from you so he doesn't hurt you. Which he usually does when he is angry. But this time he itches to be close to you. It fucking hurts to be more than a few feet away from you. His anxiety so bad he starts scratching at himself. Are you feeling okay? Are you sick? Are you eating well? What if you secretly hate him? What if you want to go back to Earth?? It's just his thoughts spiraling out of control. And then all of Gehenna got turned upside down when you started having morning sickness. Devils (except for asmodeus) Don't have children with humans so they never knew your sickness was the cause of a baby growing inside you.

Asmodeus and Lucifer did confirm that yes you are pregnant. And by hearing this news Satan got worse. If any devil so much as touches your stomach he will destroy them. He is protective and extremely extremely riddled with anxiety. You are pregnant with a demon child You are human pregnant with a demon king's child...

He should be happy He is happy it's just layered with fear add thoughts of you not surviving the birth or whatever. He has to protect you. He has to protect you from himself! At the same time giving you everything you need, every weird craving everything

Mammon

He didn't see a change in this behavior personally. Meanwhile you and your room with 50,000 more gifts than what he normally gives you. Currently hand feeding you grapes from a vine. While you have two sexy and popular devil porn stars rubbing your feet.

Barely into your first week and he is already obsessed with your bedding. For some reason he doesn't think it's soft enough or there's not enough fabrics. You think it's ridiculous but who are you to argue with someone much richer than you who could probably afford an entire island just for funsies.

Mammon freaks out when he first discovers you puking from morning sickness., He generally thinks you have been poisoned. He is probably one of the first to discover that you are pregnant since he is breaking down Lucifer's door at the first side of your sickness.

Now that he knows that you're pregnant, His pampering cranks up to a 105. You are carrying his child. You must be eating the finest and most nutritious things that your human body can absorb. Anything you want, anything you desire, will be yours. Just say the word. With hearts in his eyes, only one day and everyone in Tartaros knows that you're carrying his child.

He must provide for his pregnant mate carrying his child It is not only in his biology but his personality. If you think he's obsessed with your butt, as soon as your body starts showing more, he won't keep his hands off your stomach.

Leviathan

Literally hovering around you. Attached to you like velcro, like Satan he is on edge. His instincts telling him that something has changed even though he does not see. It feels like you are in danger, it's telling him that you will die from him if he does not give constant attention.

With the odd urge to pamper you. Fuck he hates it he feels like he's growing soft with each day. He can't look at you because when he does his heart will not come. Honestly he learns pretty fast because of his frantic behavior. Your morning sickness He was practically knocking down their Lucifer's door. He leaves the room because he says he's is wasting his time only to slam back in when those words were uttered.

He doesn't have to hide his protectiveness over you. You have a baby now He has a reason. You're not leaving his room. That is final You are staying right here warming his bed (He got an actual bed after this) covered in sheets waiting for servant devils to bring you your meals.

Your weird human cravings he will not entertain."You want this?? Foolish human that cannot be good for you You're not eating that shit!!!"

1:00 a.m. for some reason you get a lot of pictures of cribs and supplies from Levi when he cannot sleep He is right next to your ass why can't he just talk about it to you instead of just send you pictures.

Beelzebub

Irresistible, You smell irresistible. He swears You have a different smell to you. It's faint but it's so good. Oddly enough He is literally attached to you like velcro.

Becomes hornier. Like he's in heat or something, he thinks nothing has changed while he's bearing his nose into your neck, his hands brushing against your stomach and going underneath your shirt. Massaging your shoulders, telling you that recently you had a certain glow to you, and he can't put his finger on it

He knows you're pregnant He just forgot. Something that he told everyone when Lucifer gave you a check up. Kind of explains why he's been indulging in your cravings at the same time not knowing what the fuck is going on.

Paperwork be damn his mate is pregnant, He rather snatch your ass from the Abyssos Castle and take you somewhere else.

Being the avatar of gluttony his instincts begin to kick in and he starts to feed you. "Nonsense You're eating for two aren't you? Come on you can have one more bite of this."

Lucifer

The amount of times I made Lucifer being your personal doctor in this is kind of funny because I firmly believe at first, Lucifer wouldn't even know he could get you pregnant. He He was aware that devils could get humans pregnant only recently (asmodeus...) But he thought he was another case since he is not a demon technically.

So even as all the signs were showing he just didn't know. He was surprised himself when you took that pregnancy test for him.

He is elated once the news broke overprotective Lucifer begins. However recent your checkups were with him now become double almost daily. He wants you and your child to be strong healthy. So he tries to give you healthy food with some supplements.

He becomes such a nut for your health You haven't had some soda and months. You are not to go anywhere without supervision as much as he loves his angel brother and you are his first priority. I genuinely think that his brothers will visit not to kill you but a little temporary truth just for him to share the news. They hate him and they hate you but the creation of life to them is sacred still. And for a moment they felt like brothers again but only for that moment.

He still loves his brothers dearly but if they So much as harm a little hair on your head he will personally dispose of them.

Belphegor

Oh you're pregnant Cool? *Goes back to sleep*....*wakes up immediately* Wait what do you mean you're pregnant.

That day one of the new laws in nifelheim were protect you and his child at all costs o

[steddiealltheway]

The upside down is colder than Steve remembers.

To be fair, he only wearing a vest, pants, and no shoes at the moment, and he may be actively bleeding out even with the bandages because of the damn bats but… he just doesn’t remember it being this cold.

He probably didn’t spend long enough in the tunnels to truly get a feel for things. But now that he’s fully here, he can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for Will.

The place is dark enough to even give Steve nightmares although he has Robin, Nancy, and Eddie at this side. How did Will survive with no one?

Steve looks down and carefully steps over a vine as he makes his way through the woods. Did Will ever step on-

“Is this a bad time to mention that I haven’t kissed anyone?”

Steve and the girls turn to Eddie, giving him looks of confusion at the random outburst.

Eddie keeps walking, staring at the ground as he tries not to activate the hive mind. “I’m just saying, it kind of feels like the end of the world here, and it makes you think. Like, do I really want to die a virgin? Not really, but dying without kissing anyone… I feel like that’s a bigger problem in my book.”

Robin and Nancy share the same look of confusion mixed with an air of why are you talking to us about this? But Steve thinks he gets the nervous rambling. He wouldn’t want to die unkissed either.

Eddie slowly stops and turns around, finally noticing that the three of them stopped when he made his first comment. He just stares at them for a moment before sighing, “Forget I said anything. I just hate walking in silence with all these thoughts of impending doom.”

With that, the girls start walking again, quickly catching up to Eddie, but Steve struggles as he thinks a little too hard about what Eddie said instead of thinking about not stepping on a vine. So he compromises speed for a very important thought.

Eddie wants to kiss someone. Probably. Definitely.

He can’t kiss Nancy because she’s with Jonathan, and Steve’s pretty sure Nancy would not be the greatest choice of a first kiss - since she would be unenthusiastic.

And Robin… well. She would be equally as unenthusiastic, probably even more so.

And really, everyone must be thinking the same thing. Because there’s one obvious solution.

“I’ll kiss you,” Steve announces as he steps over a vine. He watches as the three of them freeze in front of them, and Eddie almost even trips on a vine.

Once he catches up to them, Steve says, “It’s the clear solution to the problem.”

Robin shoots him a look of bewilderment and mouthes what??

Steve just looks away from her. It’s not a crazy thought really. Eddie wants to kiss someone before the world maybe ends, and Steve is just a really generous person who would like- enjoy- no, volunteer very very generously to help the good cause.

“You’re kidding, right?” Eddie asks.

And oh. Steve hadn’t really thought about how Eddie might not want to kiss him. Shit. He shakes his head. “I’m not kidding, but I wouldn’t do it unless you wanted to. And it’s okay that you don’t. Let’s just keep going.”

Eddie reaches out and grabs his arm. “I never said that I didn’t want to,” he says quickly.

Steve’s pretty sure he hears Robin snort at the comment, and he can sees Nancy trying to hide an amused smile behind her hand. He ignores them and puts his hands on his hips. “Alright.”

“Okay,” Eddie says.

They both stare at each other not moving.

“We’re going to give you some space,” Robin says, grabbing Nancy’s hand and pulling her deeper into the woods.

Steve doesn’t pay much attention to them as they walk away, he’s too busy staring at Eddie. And yeah, he’s a good looking guy. He knew that from high school whenever he would go on his rants, and Steve had an excuse to stare. And really the thought of kissing him is definitely not the worse and actually… he’s kind of looking forward to it, if the fast beating of his heart is any indication.

Eddie though, he looks… scared. Maybe just nervous. But his expression definitely isn’t in any way happy.

Steve takes a step toward him and softly says, “We don’t have to do this, okay? And it’s okay if you don’t want to.”

Eddie shakes his head and laughs humorlessly. “It’s not that I don’t want to it’s just… you’re Steve Harrington.”

“And?”

“And that name means something. And it shouldn’t be tangled up with my name.”

Steve raises his eyebrows at him. “I’m pretty sure we already crossed that line a while ago.”

“But you know what I mean,” Eddie sighs, looking at the ground.

Yeah, he does know what he means. But… “The world might end. I think there are stranger things than you and me kissing.”

Eddie shakes his head. “I think that would be the most shocking thing out of all of this.”

“Then get ready for me to rock your world, Munson,” Steve says with a smirk, stepping closer and brushing a curly strand of hair out of his face.

Eddie takes a deep breath and settles his hands on Steve’s waist above the wounds he’s forgotten about. “Is this… okay?”

Steve nods and wraps his arms around Eddie’s shoulders. “Yeah. Is this?”

Eddie just hums mhm, his eyes get a little wider and his cheeks flush a deeper pink.

Steve can’t help but look over Eddie’s face, taking in what he looks like at the closer proximity when he’s allowed to look. His eyes wander down to where Eddie’s full lips are slightly parted as if they’re just waiting for him to kiss them. But Steve looks back into Eddie’s dark eyes, searching for hesitation but only sending nerves and anticipation.

“I like that you’re the same height as me,” Steve randomly blurts out.

“Why’s that?”

Steve feels a blush creep up his neck. “Because my neck won’t strain when I kiss you.” Eddie laughs, and Steve decides that if the world really is coming to an end, he should be fully honest. “Plus, it’s easier to look at your eyes when they’re at my level.”

Eddie’s grin turns into a soft smile. His eyes glance down at Steve’s lips.

He knows the moment has come. “I’m going to kiss you now, if that’s okay.”

“It’s more than okay,” Eddie says, leaning in closer.

Steve smiles before closing the distance between them and kissing Eddie slowly as if they have all the time in the world. He breaks the kiss and pulls back enough to take in Eddie's expression - eyebrow raised in astonishment, lips slightly parted, and eyes still closed.

And yeah, they might not make it to tomorrow, plus Eddie looks hot. So, Steve doesn’t pull away. Instead, he kisses him again, this time with much more fervor and… yes, tongue. Sue him. He just wants to make Eddie’s first (and second) kiss memorable.

Eddie’s hands press into Steve’s back, pulling him closer as Steve slows the kiss, needing air. He pulls back and breathes in deep, staring at Eddie’s kiss swollen lips and feeling… many things.

But instead of giving into those feelings, Steve just pats Eddie on the arm and says, “See, you’re a natural.” As soon as he walks away, Steve wants one of the vines to drag him far far away so he doesn’t have to think about what he just said. Christ. He’s not smooth.

As soon as he catches up to Robin, she practically yanks him back so Eddie and Nancy can wander off out of earshot.

Steve crosses his arms and stares at her. “What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me. You know exactly what this is about,” Robin says, jabbing a finger into his chest.

Steve winces. “Okay. Yes. I kissed Eddie. But what else was I supposed to do? Make you or Nance kiss him? No way.”

“You realize that he was just thinking out loud, right? You turned his thought into an invitation.”

Steve shrugs and walks toward the other two, trying to make sure they don’t go too far. “It sounded like an invitation to me,” he says with a shrug.

“I’m sure it did,” Robin mutters.

Steve turns to glare at her.

Robin sighs and lays a hand on his arm. “You can talk to me, you know? Even if you’re in the process of figuring things out and can’t get a true read of things.”

Steve turns and looks back at Eddie, noting how his heart beats a little faster and his body wants more than anything to get closer to him. He looks back and Robin and asks, “How obvious am I being?”

The tension in Robin’s shoulder goes away slightly at the question, and she smiles. “With the ‘you’re a natural’ comment? Totally fooled. No one would guess a thing.”

Steve’s jaw drops. “You were watching that?”

“How could I not? And do I regret it?” Robin pauses before answering her question, “A little when you started using tongue.”

“Jesus, Robin,” Steve says, trying to sound annoyed, but he can’t help but laugh.

Robin smiles and nudges him. “It seems like you have a type.”

Steve raises an eyebrow before he looks to where Robin is staring. He watches as Nancy and Eddie talk quietly about something, both sharing a small smile, amusement evident in their big round eyes, and dark, curly hair framing their faces. Maybe Robin has a point.

“Maybe I do,” Steve says as Eddie glances back at him and smiles. When he turns back, Steve asks Robin, “Do you think we could talk more about it when we’re not in an alternate dimension, and I have time to think about things?”

“Of course,” Robin says and squeezes his arm. “But for now, I’m going to give you things to think about!” she announces before running ahead to Nancy and quickly starting some type of hushed conversation.

Steve looks at where Eddie lingers behind the girls and quickly runs up to him, deciding maybe he can figure things out now. And maybe he can verbally thank him for saving his ass instead of just kissing him and hoping he gets the message.

Gosh, he doesn’t know if he can get through this without getting distracted by his lips. But he’s going to try.

(And he’s going to fail)

[lyraeon]

If someone falls overboard on a cruise ship, and there is a life preserver on the wall next to you, you throw them the life preserver.

Yes, it would be great if the ship had better railings so no one fell overboard to begin with. Yes, it would be awesome if everyone knew how to swim well enough to save themselves even in such a wild event as falling off a ship, but that's not a standard thing that's taught most places right now.

Yes, it probably is a good idea to know how to swim before you go on a ship, but even if you know how to swim, the act of falling into the water can startle anyone into panicking, so you don't really have time to ask them if they can swim or not before they need the life preserver. Yes, being careful around the railings is a good idea, but you have no way to know right now whether they were doing it for the Vine or someone just tried to murder them, and either way do you actually think they deserve to die for not being 100% careful 24/7?

No, you should not be expected to jump in and try to rescue them yourself when you aren't trained and don't know them, but that's not what anyone's asking you to do. They just want you to grab the life preserver off the wall and throw it towards them, or even to just hand it to someone who can aim well if you're worried about being held responsible if you miss, or hell, you can just get out of the way so someone else can grab it off the wall.

Don't deprive someone of help right now just because in your ideal world, they wouldn't need it. People asking for accommodations within the current system aren't trying to uphold it, they are trying to survive and improve their lives, so don't deny them those because in the system you want to have in place they wouldn't need that accommodation.

Don't deprive someone of help right now just because you're morally inclined to believe they "deserved it". You don't know anyone else's situation, you can never have full context, and quite often, the time and effort it takes to pass judgement on someone's worthiness is more burden on everyone than just giving them the help. And even if you earnestly feel you don't want to help them, why would you stop someone else from doing it? After all, even if your excuse is "to keep them from helping someone who doesn't deserve it", you felt the first person got what they deserved, so why would you think the person trying to help them doesn't deserve any results too?

Put down your swim class brochure and either grab the life preserver or get out of the way so someone else can.

[red5tars]

minors + ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked.

“could i... perhaps.... indulge you on bear hybrid price... and breeding kink. but not like, just stuffing you full, i'm talking round of his seed just overflowing... 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️” - ask from anon

oh boy..

bunny!reader who stumbles across a beautiful patch in the forest. it’s a nice set up, lush greenery, some flowers to nibble and admire, and a stream that provides plenty of water.

and most importantly, the land is empty. no predators, or prey. just your cute little cottontail and no one else.

it quickly becomes your home, spending your days laying down in the shrubbery, skipping by the stream, and eating your fill in plants. a perfect routine you plan on sticking to until you die.

at least, that’s what you thought it would be like, until you found out why this patch was so empty.

it happens on a rainy day, and while the feeling of water running down your fur and skin is enjoyable, the downpour is harsh today. in need of shelter, you quickly seek out the nearest cave, finding one hidden in plain sight. it’s covered by vines and moss, blending into the greenery. thankfully, you’re able to pick out such things, it’s how you found this place after all.

stepping inside, you realize how dark and cold it is, a shiver making your ears stand up. at the very least, you wouldn’t have to be here for more than a few hours. what’s the worse that could happen?

it seems the answer chuffs behind you, a growl making your body stiffen.

as you turn your head over your shoulder, your met with the grizzly sight of a large bear hybrid. your ears drop, fear running through you as the beast stares you down.

“anyone ever told you about trespassing, bun?” he asks, his deep voice rattling your bones.

somehow, you manage to shake your head, stammering, “i-i didn’t know this was.. i thought.. i-“

“thought wha’, hm?” he asks, his tone bordering on condescending, “thought this little patch was yours for the taking,” there’s a hint of smile in his tone, and you see it as he emerges from the shadows.

with every step he takes forward, you take one back, hoping to reach the entrance of the cave.

“n-no,” it comes out naturally, a defensive response. the bear just chuckles, shaking his head.

“oh bunny.. poor stupid bunny,” the dim light from outside glints against his fangs, canines that are waiting to be sunk into your flesh.

“everything in this little section of the forest is mine, from the trees,“ he gestured above your head, but you don’t dare turn around. it would be unwise to give him an opening.

“the grass, and even the little stream like you to hop in,” a chill runs down your spine. it never occurred to you he was watching, eying his next meal.

with one more step, you find yourself close to the entrance. but it seems he redirected your path, feeling the hard wall of the cave hit you instead of the rain’s humidity.

his whole body cages you, keeping trapped.

“and now.. you do too.”

——

you knew he was going to devour you, just not like this.

the bear, price, has you pinned down with an arm on your lower back, stomach glued to the cold floor as his tongue glides up and down your slick cunt.

even with his weight on you, your instincts scream at you to move. to run away and never look back.

“quit yer squirming, bun,” price commands, growls. the low timbre of his voice adds vibrations to your pussy, causing you to do the opposite of what he said. a quiet squeal leaves your lips, ears stretched far back behind you in embarrassment.

even though you defied a direct order, he doesn’t punish you. instead, he goes back to eating it, eating you, your sopping wet cunt.

you can’t even recall how you got into this position, all you remember is the bear claiming you as his, telling you his name, and then wrestling you down into the floor.

..so maybe you can recall how you got here.

after another agony of his long licks, price pulls away from your cunt. it’s completely drenched in his spit, and you bet it smells more like his mouth than you.

“think you’re ready now,” he grunts, and despite the haze his tongue has placed you in, alarm bells ring in your head again. swiftly, you manage to turn, eyes wide, “r-ready for wha-“

your question is cut off as something big is shoved inside of you, your meek voice shifting into something closer to a scream.

just like everything about him, it’s big. it feels like he’s burrowing himself inside you, which is ironic considering his species. it’s just all too much far too quickly.

“p-price pull out pl-please,” you beg, and not even the earlier pleasure can outdo the pain. but he doesn’t pull out. in fact, it seems your pleading spurs him on, trying to shove even more (was there more?!) of himself inside of you.

“can’t do that bun,” he huffs, squishing your cottontail as he practically rests his full weight on you, “gotta claim you.”

and with that, he moves.

it’s brutal, the way he slams home into your tight pussy. it’s almost like being stabbed, except the blade is thicker and more meaty and not a blade at all but probably the fattest cock you’ve ever felt-

it seems price can pick up on your pain, tasting it on his tongue (amongst other things). with one hand, he manages to cant your hips, snaking a paw in between them.

“being too mean, aren’t i?” he says almost effortlessly, not a hint of strain in his voice despite the robust movement of his hips, “soft thing like you isn’t used to this type of breeding..”

as a sign of mercy, his fingers play with your clit, pinching and rubbing the bud.

and oh, does that help.

instead of focusing on the harsh piston of his hips, he offers pleasure, toying with your little button, rolling it between his fingers, putting enough pressure to have you squeaking.

it pulls sounds out of you that you never knew you could make and sentences that consist of pleasepleaseplease and moremoremore.

it seems price revels in your enjoyment too, grunting harder as your insides clench on his length with a vice-like grip.

“yeah? you like that, bun? you always turn into a slut when someone flicks that little button of yours? hm?”

despite his patronizing tone, you’re unable to deny his claims. instead, you meet his questions with moans, turning into what he describes as a cock-focused cottontail slut.

before long, the warmth in your stomach erupts like a dormant volcano, making you clench his cock in a vice-like grip. your orgasm shakes you, body rigid as you come undone under this predator.

it seems he wasn’t far along either, as price buries his face into the back of your neck, pressing himself to the hilt as a massive load of his cum spills inside you.

it’s hot and thick, making sure not to just coat your insides but also fill it. you half expect him to pull out, but price just stays sheathed inside you.

it isn’t until you feel your womb is going to burst that you finally speak up, “um.. i.. i think you should.. p-pull out..” you whimper, having to actively search for words instead of fall deeper into this haze of lust.

but it’s rare for predators to spare mercy, even rarer for them to do it twice.

“no can do bun, see” and he completely drops his weight onto you, a quiet oof exhaling from you at this, “i was pretty lonely before you showed up, and it’s been near ages since i had a mate..”

as he explains himself, you can feel his cock coming back to life, practically keep all his cum plugged deep inside of you.

“and when you wandered into my territory, i knew i had to have you,” his hips move shallowly, barely separating from you. “had to make you mine,” at this, a moan leaves your lips while a deep chuckle escapes his.

“attagirl. now,” he curls an arm under your waist, palming at your soft belly, “jus’ lie there while i make you fat with my cubs, okay bunny?”

[snoopledrooplecheesedoodle]

A Quick Pick Me Up (Yandere Neko Cafe x Reader)

Hey, ya'll, I know ya'll like my fandom work, but I promise you my OC stuff is just as good. Please read!!!!! I just felt like doing this today! Reader is gender neutral. Also YANDERE BEHAVIOR IS UNACCEPTABLE IN REAL LIFE! IT AINT CUTE, IT'S ABUSE! SEEK HELP IF YOU OR A LOVED ONE HAVE SOMEONE IN YOUR LIFE LIKE THIS!

Picture belongs to @kaffee-und-liebe

Tw: Yandere tendencies, some platonic yanderes (the kids and Cocoa), some slightly suggestive content, cursing, Donut (you'll know what I mean later), mentions of abuse, and other possibly triggering content

MINORS DNI

You live in a city that is made up of mostly apartments, that don't allow you to keep a cat much less a hybrid. Too bad because you really love cats and cat hybrids. They're just so cute with their soft ears and tails and fierce expressions. When they purr? You almost die!

Which is why you are currently vibrating in front of the newest cat cafe where you can interact with cat hybrids and cats alike. It was also really close to your apartment building, so it was meant to be. The cafe was a cute brown stone building covered in vines and flowers with a black sign that in golden letters spelled out "Lucky Kitty Cafe". You felt pretty lucky standing in front of the building right now. You took a breath and entered the building.

Ding~

A set of bells tinkled cutely as your eyes widened in amazement. The place was catastic! There were paintings of cats, a cat tree decorated with potted plants, chairs with little cat ears on the back, and much more. A strange looking person with a long and thin face and vitiligo and mysterious blue green colored eyes looked up with a friendly smile. They wore head scarf with a hat with cat ears on top and a beige shirt with caramel accents.

"Welcome to Lucky Kitty Cafe, I'm Shopkeeper, are you here to see our cats and cat hybrids?" Their voice was a soothing androgynous voice. They were pretty hot not going to lie. "Yes, I'm here to see the cats!" "Wonderful~" Shopkeeper purred as they grabbed a pen and paper. "Would you like anything to eat or drink while you wait?" You smile gleefully at Shopkeeper and nod. "I'll have (cafe order) please." Shopkeeper jotted your order down and nodded. "Good taste, we'll have that order out right away for you Mx..."

"(Y/N)"

Mx. (Y/N) what a beautiful name...I can tell the staff will just love you~

For the privacy of our staff, they have been assigned names of popular cafe drinks and snacks. Their personalities our meant to cater to our wide clientele. Please take not of the following rules:

Rule 1.: Do not pick up cats

Rule 2: No pulling tails and ears of cats or staff

Rule 3: Harassment of any kind towards our cats, staff, or other customers will get you sent straight to Butch

Rule 4: Our staff are playing a role to increase your enjoyment of the cafe. The way they act in the cafe does not necessarily constitute how they act outside of the cafe.

Rule 5: Buy at least one item on the menu, this is a business after all

Rule 6: DON'T MESS WITH OUR DARLING 

Meet Our Staff

Macchiato:

Macchiato or Macchi is the unofficial mascot of "Lucky Kitty Cafe" she is a calico hybrid who is the sweetest person around. Her cheerful and bright attitude will brighten up even the grumpiest of people's days. She always is the first to greet new customers.

You were stunned when the tritone beauty perched herself directly on your lap, her orange eyes shining brightly as she bounced up and down barraging you with questions.

She was so excited to see a cute new face around the establishment! Your hands were so gentle as you pet her soft ears. She didn't feel the slightest bit of shame letting you know how much she enjoyed it with her loud purring. When your food and drink came you offered to share some with her.

With her?

She almost fell in love right then and there, no one ever offered to share their food with her in such a genuine way. The food was some of the best she ever had since she got to share it with you. She couldn't help but laugh as you gushed over the cats, you were more adorable than anyone here!

She's probably the first to go yandere, she can't help it when your sweeter than the sugary treats Shopkeeper bakes. She is one clingy motherfucker, so she'll always have some body part of yours close to her. She will also insert herself in any interaction you have with others in the cafe or outside. Don't ask her why she's here just pet her pretty tritone hair!

She wants to be the only hybrid in your life which means you may wake up with her snuggled into your arms blinking those sunset orbs at you cutely.

"Morning (N/n)! Did you sleep well? I know I did~

Collects any trash you leave behind. Dirty napkins? Now hers. Straws? She's wrapping her tongue around while thinking indecent thoughts. Lost your cute keychain? Well good luck ever finding it again because now it's a part of her shrine to you.

Don't let her cute face fool you, she will do whatever it takes to ensure that you are hers.

"(N/n) left their Chapstick here. Mmm (N/n) it's like sharing an indirect kiss with you~"

Espresso:

Meet the cafe's very own black cat Espresso. He is very quiet and aloof at first. Most people never interact with him as he will leave when people attempt to start a conversation with him. No one understands why Espresso even took a job here as he's clearly not a people hybrid.

He is no doubt one of the most handsome hybrids most people see. Beautiful dark skin and long dreadlocks accompanied with silky black ears and tail and intelligent brown eyes. His voice is very deep and mellow much like a good espresso.

He is a cat magnet as even the shyest cats can be found purring contently on his lap. He lets them hang around him as he sketches pictures of the cafe.

"You're a really good artist"

Espresso jerks at the sudden sound of your voice, how did you manage to sneak up on him? He froze as every impulse in him was confused on how to react. Run away? Thank you? Let you sit down with him? It's clear to you that the Windows shut down noise is taking place in his head right now.

"I'm sorry for startling you, I'll be on my way now."

It didn't take long for other cats and Macchi to distract you, but Espresso couldn't get the interaction out of his head. Yes, you scared him, but you didn't pressure him into conversation. You simply complimented his art before leaving.

Why did a small part of him wish you stayed?

In order for him to go yandere for you, you have to let him approach you in his own time. You must be patient as Espresso isn't used to engaging with customers like the other staff are. He is probably the last if not close to last who go yandere for you, which means you'll have an ally for when the others get too touchy.

He is very aware that the feelings that he is developing aren't the healthiest, so he tries to keep his feelings to himself. He adores your calming presence and how you can bring out the best in anybody. He begins subconsciously drawing you more and more in different scenarios. Most relatively innocent but there are enough indulgent sketches that he doesn't allow you to look through his sketch book without him supervising.

However, jealousy begins to gnaw at his gut when he sees you interacting with the others. When did Butch get so protective of you? Why do you hang around that bastard Donut? Why can't he have you all to himself? He starts to use the trust that you've built towards him to convince you to spend less time with the others. Besides that, he's one of the most harmless yanderes on this list.

"Oh, you're here, did the others smother you too much? They won't bother as long as you stay with me my muse."

Donut:

Oh boy, you got this gremlin's attention, you really are too sweet for your own good, aren't you? Donut is an orange Munchkin cat hybrid and the shortest adult of the staff (the kids are platonic yandere for you). The definition of short guy syndrome but he hides it behind a cute facade. He lays it on thick for customers to give him fat tips (get you mind out of the gutter). A little bat of the eyelash here and a flirty wink there and everyone is eating out of the palm of his hand.

"Oh, a new customer, it's so nice to meet you I'm Donut~"

"Nice to meet you Donut."

"Hee hee, do you mind if I sit on your lap?"

He plops himself on your lap and starts not so subtly grinding on you which makes you very uncomfortable, you just met this guy. Plus, this is not the place for finding a random hookup. You push him off your lap and tell him that his actions made you uncomfortable. Donut begins boiling inside. You ungrateful bitch! How dare you turn him down! Him! HIM!!!! He yells in frustration later in the empty break room. Why were you being so rude when he was just being nice? (No dude that's sexual harassment) He's made it his personal mission to seduce you and then when you fall for him laugh in your face.

Donut turns up the clueless and the sexiness up by a hundred and ten percent. He wears extra skimpy and tight-fitting shorts and skirts (with lacey panties and/or thongs) as well as unbuttoning half the buttons on his pastel pink shirt, showing you his surprisingly defined chest. He skips around with an innocent grin, only for his actions to be ignored. You evil SLUT, how dare you pretend to not see what he's doing? He should teach you to be grateful and get down on your knees like a good whore does. He ignores all the other customers in favor of hatefully glaring at you from the corner.

He follows you out of the cafe and drags you into an alley nearby pinning you to the wall (he's actually deceptively strong). He screams all of the feelings he's been bottling up towards you with tears in his eyes. You stand still for a moment unsure of what to do and then you feel him go limp. Okay this is super awkward, the guy in front of you went on a nice guy spiel and then passed out. Unfortunately, you have some morality and decide not to leave him out here when your apartment is right across the street. You scoop him up and walk to your apartment (he's really light).

Donut wakes up in a stranger's bed and thinks he took his anger out by sleeping with some rando for a quick ego boost. However, he sees you coming into the room with a plate of breakfast and set it right in front of him. Why was he at your place? You explained what happened and Donut is very embarrassed, he can't believe he was vulnerable with the person he despises with all his heart. He prepares for you to mock him cruelly, but instead you treat him with the kindness he'd never show for you. Why are you such a mature person? It makes him so mad that he starts blushing, his heart starts pumping... did you always look so handsome?

Uh oh

Donut goes from being horrible to you to being the most delusional being on the planet. You treated him with kindness, which must mean you love him and much as he loves you. He does the cute act except this time its genuine and less sexual (he learned boundaries for you so be grateful (don't he still sucks)). However, he doesn't afford the same luxury to others. He sees the way others look at you and he doesn't like it one bit. He is cruel and sadistic towards rivals all while acting like an absolute angel towards you.

"Welcome home darling! How did I get in your apartment? You invited me here silly, now come and snuggle with your one and only~"

Sugar:

Sugar is a complete MILF looking like a golden age Hollywood actress in her work uniform. She is a Turkish Angora hybrid with gorgeous long white hair plated in victory curls and bewitching heterochromic eyes (left brown and right blue with a beauty mark under the left one). Sugar was a show hybrid like her mother before her but had to leave when she became pregnant with a stray hybrid's kittens. She is very gentle and motherly with an elegant femme fatale aura to her. Sugar is considered second in command to Shopkeeper and very respected for her age and wisdom (she's in her early to mid-forties because we love older women here).

Popular with old and young alike, you were starstruck when the snow-haired beauty and spoke to you with her lightly accented voice (she's Turkish). You felt completely comfortable with Sugar and were able to get some sound financial advice from her, as Sugar knew what it was like to be young and struggling to pay bills.

"Remember that charity is no only an act of generosity but also tax deductible."

"Yes mommy."

"What?"

"What?"

She found your slight crush on her adorable as it was flattering for younger people to find her attractive. However, she didn't want to have to parent her partner as well as her twins. She doesn't immediately go yandere nor is she the slowest to go yandere for you. This feeling changed when she saw how well you got along with Cookie and Muffin (her twins). You were able to get them to listen to you as well as break up their fights which was a feat that very few outside herself could do. Color her impressed.

"Mommy is (Y/N) our new parent?"

"Now kids we need to be tactical about this-"

"They helped find a crying child's parents."

"Cookie, Muffin, say hello to your new stepparent."

Very few younger people and hybrids knew the subtle art of seduction like Sugar did, which she believes gives her advantage compared to the others. She doesn't constantly badger you for your time like Macchiato, Donut, and Cappuccino do (she's only truly worried about the romantic rivals but Cocoa is on thin ice sometimes). Nor does she play it too subtle like Espresso and Croissant do. She invites you to "platonic" dates out with her and her children to parks and restaurants. She also will subtly touch you whether it be smoothing wrinkles on your outfit or giving you chaste kiss on the cheek (she says she greets everyone that way, but you have yet to see that). She knows she attractive and how to flirt in a way that makes you blush but not uncomfortable.

She's seen the cruelties of the world and hopes that you won't have to go through have the horrors she's faced. The world isn't very kind to single moms, especially older single moms. She wants you to be happy and safe in her home, as a cute little stay at home spouse. Let her do all the hard work outside while you stay home and do some work inside (she won't let you strain yourself though). She also is a doting and spoiling yandere. She's very generous and giving towards you (even in bed) and will have all your desires met except leaving.

She's a master manipulator and will use her children as a way to get you to consider staying with her. They love you so much, you wouldn't break their hearts, right? (the kids are also manipulative little shits as well) The only people she would consider sharing (this is only in dire situations) you with is Shopkeeper and maybe Bruce. Besides that, she won't rest until you are snuggled into her chest in the bed you share.

"(Y/N) let's go out again, the kids love hanging out with you dear and I wouldn't want to disappoint them. You will, wonderful!"

Cookie and Muffin: 

Meet the mischievous mixed breeds who work occasionally beside their mother. Cookie and Muffin are loved dearly by kids their age and lonely older patrons. They love sweets and messing with member of the staff they don't like (Donut and Cappuccino mostly) with very intricate pranks. They aren't always there and met you by chance as their mother had to pick them up early from school (Muffin and Cookie can get violent with each other and the only one who can break them up is momma Sugar). Muffin is the girl with short gray hair with a single white streak and Cookie is the boy with long white hair with a single gray streak.

They saw you playing with the kittens and wanted to play too! You rough house with the twins and don't get mad when Muffin bites you a bit too hard (kitten hybrid teeth are sharp). Cookie got jealous that you are paying more attention to Muffin and the two started fighting. Normally no one is brave enough to break the twins apart from each other, but you bravely stand between them enduring multiple scratches until they stopped.

They can't believe they hurt their new playmate; their mom is going to kill them. Both start crying while apologizing profusely for hurting you. Instead of yelling at them you scratch their ears gently and tell them it's okay. Your touch is just as calming as their mother's, wait why did you stop? Keep petting them please!

They're kids so they go yandere pretty quickly as they aren't romantic interests, and you sneak them pastries you bought (much to Sugar's dismay). Both are always trying to monopolize your time and will scratch and bite any staff or customer who interrupts their "(Y/N) Time". When their mom starts having a romantic interest in you, they're ecstatic, you get to become their new parent. While they are kids, they aren't dumb as they notice other staff members looking at you the same way that their mom does. They won't let just anyone marry you, only mommy can (they can't wait to call you their baba*)!

Their pranks become almost deadly in nature towards rivals of their mom. They never get in trouble for almost killing the delivery guy because they're just kids, what do you expect? Also inherit the manipulative trait from their mother. Oh no their babysitter mysteriously quit! Could you watch them? You come over only to find that it was an elaborate ruse done by the twins, so you have family movie night with them and Sugar (they "fall asleep" on you so you're forced to spend the night). Mommy is sad because she remembered how daddy left them. Could you cheer her up?

They aren't too dangerous yanderes besides the semi deadly pranks, but they aren't to be underestimated because they're children. They want a happy family with their favorite playmate, and they'll do anything they can to get it.

"(Y/N), Muffin pulled on my hair!" "Not before Cookie bit my finger!"

"Baba don't leave!" "Yeah, we'll stop fighting as long as you're here!"

Croissant:

Ah the intelligentsia of the cafe, its own certified genius Croissant. Croissant is a lover of reading, fine art, and playing his beloved cello. He brings with him a refined aura and a thirst for knowledge. He's a blonde American Curl who always wears his beloved red scarf, even indoors. He has semi long curly blond hair in a mullet and the prettiest hazel eyes. He's got freckles that he hides with makeup. He is popular with mainly older people who enjoy engaging in discourse with him on a wide variety of subjects. He also helps tutor kids occasionally in the cafe's break room.

Croissant saw you sitting in the corner reading a book while sipping on (beverage of choice), the book you were reading happened to be one he knew about. He asked if you were enjoying the book, which caused your eyes to light up. You began to ramble to him about the book you were reading which Croissant found very adorable. Finally, he found someone that had a similar interest to him.

The two of you begin to have a routine where you would have interesting conversations about your individual interests, where each one of you would come out learning more about each other. Croissant started noticing little things about you, like how one dimple is bigger than the other when you smile, or that your nose scrunches up when you're confused. That's totally a normal thing to notice about your friend, right?

Right?

Croissant is one of the last to go yandere but goes yandere before Espresso and Butch. I mean how could anyone resist your charms forever? You never are rude or demeaning like the jealous fools in his graduate classes. You actually listen with wide eyed interest and treating him like a regular person instead of something to be revered or despised made him fall deeper into his obsession with you.

Croissant will find any way to spend more time with you. You trying to go to graduate school? He can help you study! Applying for a job? Why not work here? Other work environments won't value you the way "Lucky Kitty Cafe" would value you. So, what if you're human, Shopkeeper is human too (are they though?)! Don't even worry about filling out a resume a good word from Croissant and you'll have the job by tomorrow (even if you don't want to work there you will end up working there if Croissant has something to say about it).

Croissant never values anyone's opinion on him before, but he reveres your opinion above his own. Prefer red heads? Guess who's dying his hair? Hate his curled ears? He suddenly prefers wearing hats indoors. He can become very unstable fast so try to reassure him with love and affection. Or else no one will be able to stop the fall out. He's one hell of a stalker since he wants to know that you are okay, and no one is hurting you. Keeps extensive lists of things you like and plans for the future home the two of you will buy that is far away from this city and its impure influences.

"Ah Mx. (L/N) it's a pleasure to see you today. Care to pick up our conversation from where we left off yesterday?"

Cocoa:

Cocoa is a spunky freshly high school graduated college student who is working at the "Lucky Kitty Cafe" as a waitress for some extra money to pay for campus expenses. Cocoa is a Burmese with gigantic coke bottle glasses (she's extremely far sighted) and puffy space buns. She is popular with the teens and young adults who frequent the restaurant for her cute fashion sense and her sassy attitude.

She first met you when she spilled hot coffee all over you. The one day she forgets to wear her glasses! She immediately rushes you to the employee bathroom and apologizes profusely as she sprays cold water over the burn and begins to cry. She never meant to hurt anyone, and she may even get fired for injuring another customer (first time was no accident). You were fine thankfully but the guilt still ate away at Cocoa. She decided to spend time with you as payment and even pay for your meal. You laugh at Cocoa's guilt-ridden sad puppy eyes and compliment her nails. She immediately forgets her guilt and babbles about the cute new nail salon you should try. OMG you two should totally become BFFs!

Cocoa isn't immediately yandere and is like Sugar somewhere in the middle but further towards the immediate side. She's just hanging out with her new bestie! However, her tail bristles when she sees Macchi looping her arm around your waist, or the way that Donut coos at you while trying to feed you the cafe's newest dessert. Can't these two find their own BFFs, your hers. Great now Cappuccino is sleeping with their head in your lap! She snaps and screams at the other hybrid to leave you the hell alone, scaring many nearby cats. You tell Cocoa to calm down and that you're okay with Cappuccino doing this. What the fuck? How could you?!

After taking a second to calm down, Cocoa had to figure out why she was so worked up about you having other friends. It's good for you to have other friends...so why does it leave a bitter taste in her mouth. She doesn't hate the idea of you having friends, she just needs to be your BEST FRIEND!

Cocoa is one monopolizing and clingy girl. You have planned this weekend? Great now you can throw them out because Cocoa is taking you shopping to a cool new vintage store down the road, ooh and you can have boba tea afterwards! She bats away Macchi, Donut, and Cappuccino to have some time with her bestie, they aren't invited! She also believes as your best friend (she'll get rid of anyone who tries and replace her) she gets to pick who your future spouse is, and she is overly critical towards everyone in the cafe. No one is good enough for her bestie! She might put in a good word for the others... if they forfeit their time with you for the day (she's evil like that >:)).

Cocoa also is the type to try and hang out with you outside of the cafe by "coincidence". Oh, my what a coincidence that you both were at the supermarket at the same time looking for...mangos. Man, she loves mangos (she hates mangos)! Anyways, she found this really cute spa where they use sweet, scented bath bombs in the soak tub. Don't worry she'll pay! She also will totally snitch if she sees others trailing you (like she wasn't also stalking you) to make you like her more. Oh my god Croissant is totally following you, guess he isn't the gentleman he claims to be. What's she doing here? Don't worry about that, let's go rollar skating!

"(N/n) look there's 50% off matching sets of pajamas! Let's totally get some and have a sleep over together!"

Matcha:

You like em weird. Like really weird. Matcha is one strange hybrid. They are a Russian Blue with long bangs that cover their intense steel blue eyes. They have a couple streaks of light green in their gray blue hair. Their extremely pretty as they have a pale complexion and are lithe but when they open their mouth customers walk away in discomfort. As a result, Shopkeeper has them in the back most of the day and only really lets them come out before opening and after closing. They will be the one of the last yandere's you'll probably meet.

You were helping Shopkeeper with cleaning up after an intense day at the cafe, after all they let you stay in the comfiest table for hours after you purchased food. As well as staying after closing to feed the kitties. You also may or may not have been lured by Shopkeeper's promise of being able to take some of the leftover pastries home. Whatever your reason you were helping Shopkeeper, when Shopkeeper left to take a phone call outside. You smiled to yourself as you hummed a tune while cleaning up. You started actually singing when you heard a crash coming from the kitchen area. Strange you don't remember anyone being in the store besides you and Shopkeeper. Curiosity got the better of you and you decided to sneak a peek at whatever creature was in the kitchen.

You peer into the dark kitchen to find a skinny person holding a bent-up pan and an explosion of red all over the floor and all over the person.

"Oh, don't worry this isn't blood."

You proceeded to sock the stranger in the face and run to find Shopkeeper.

"There's a strange person with bluish hair covered in god knows what in your kitchen!"

"Oh that's Matcha."

"Who?!"

After an in-depth explanation of why this person you never saw before was standing in front of you covered in strawberry jam (they like to be one with the fruit) you were introduced to Matcha. A hybrid who smells like and probably eats dirt, an acquired taste for most (both dirt and Matcha). You apologized for punching them in the face to which they grinned and told you they like how your fist felt on their face. Okay a little strange but Shopkeeper wouldn't hire a literal serial killer, right?

You don't even know anymore

Obsessed from the minute your fist made contact with their face. Not quite yandere but interested in the reactions you make (and the pain you can give them). They actually gain romantic interest towards you slower than you think, give or take two days. You saw the large cut on their arm and helped them patch it up, it was from that moment that they planned your entire wedding in their head.

Is terrible at stalking but does it in hopes of being caught and you berating them for it (thinks it's sexy when you're mad). Fights Macchi for the things you leave behind and is found sniffing the seat where you were sitting. Is the definition of worshipper yandere as they truly believe you are a deity, and they are your acolyte. They don't care if you hate them or want them dead, as long as they can be by your side that's all that matters.

Being your acolyte also means they will do anything you ask with zeal. It doesn't matter if it's highly illegal as going to jail in your stead would be a blessing. They just love you so much that it consumes their very being. They're willing to share you with others (as long as they can watch) as long as you still let them stay by your side too.

"Hit me, stab me, choke me, leave me to die. Any act done by your hands is a blessing and a pleasure for me~"

Shopkeeper:

You got the big cheese's attention, the owner of the cafe, the mysterious Shopkeeper. Shopkeeper is alluring in an inhuman way with their sharp blue green eyes and charming androgynous voice. They loved the smile you gave them the first time you came in, what an adorable face. They also loved the face you made when you took a bite of the food you ordered, that blissed-out look is just too cute.

"Excuse me did you make this pastry?"

"Oh, why yes I did, it happens to be a family recipe."

"You're so talented, that was the best (pastry of choice) I every ate!"

Normally compliments don't faze Shopkeeper they'd reply with a nod and a polite thank you. However, you seemed so genuine and the way your eyes sparkled made something melt inside of Shopkeeper. You would surely become one of their favorite customers.

Shopkeeper is very hard to read so it can be difficult to tell when they go yandere for you. Their actions can be seen as purely platonic or as their attempt to flirt with you. They always make sure your favorite sweets are freshly made when you arrive to the cafe, they have the time you arrive memorized. If you don't like sweets, they always have something savory and tasty prepared to your liking. Keeps track of your food preferences and allergies when coming up with new items for the menu, so you can taste test them.

"I was thinking of adding this to the menu tell me how it tastes?"

"Is it necessary for you to feed me?"

"Absolutely."

One thing is for sure when they do fall for you, they begin to plan how to make you entirely theirs. Shopkeeper knows how their staff have taken a liking to you, and they don't feel like sharing (may have an easier time with the more submissive/guilt ridden ones like Matcha and Butch). They use their sweet words and actions to guide you in the right direction (right into their arms). They also aren't afraid to take care of rivals that come from outside of the cafe.

"Oh, why is there blood on my face? Just a little problem in the kitchen that's all."

Cappuccino:

Cappuccino is the Ragdoll of the group, a mellow, sleepy person. They are perfect cuddle shape with their chubby body and their big fluffy ears, hair, and tail. They are almost always asleep yet one of the most popular hybrids at the cafe for how cute and calm they are. They don't often choose who they fall asleep on, so they might have accidently fallen asleep on you.

"Oh, I fell asleep but not on a pillow."

"Hey, Cappuccino, right? I need to get to work so could you kindly..."

"Zzzzzz"

Cappuccino is pretty big both tall and chubby (because tall people can also be chubby/fat and beautiful) so it's hard to move them when they sleep, which is too bad for you since Cappuccino has decided you are their new favorite pillow. They always find you in what you're doing and force you to let them cuddle with you. After all, why cuddle with a cat now that you have Cappuccino?

"Cappuccino what are you doing in my house?"

"Ugh you're being to noisy be quiet, pillows don't talk."

"GET OUT!"

Cappuccino goes yandere for you pretty quick, but you wouldn't notice as Cappuccino is too lazy to do anything about these feelings beside scent you constantly when you cuddle. Cappuccino is clingy in the sense that they can't get good sleep unless they're clinging to you. You may have places to be, but Cappuccino is sleeping right now so you won't be going anywhere. They're adorable and they know it, so they use this to make you stay longer too. One sleepy look from those big droopy blue eyes and you are staying a lot longer than you intended. Isn't willing to pick fights with Donut, Macchi, or Cocoa, but is willing to make it out like they are bullying them.

"You shouldn't hang out with people who treat others bad (Y/N), you know I never would (they totally would)."

Their apathy is one of the scariest traits they have, they may be lazy, but they use their cuteness to get crazed fans to get rid of the competition. They are not above getting rid of others at the cafe because they don't care about the people around them. Cappuccino is also very strong as when they aren't sleeping, they are at the gym, so if they feel motivated enough, they can bash some heads in. Cappuccino only cares about you, so don't make them do anything that you may regret.

"Oh (Y/N) sorry for humping you, I was having a very...intense dream."

Butch:

Enter the devoted guard dog of the cafe Butch. The Pitbull hybrid is the tallest and strongest of the cafe and doesn't let anyone harass the Shopkeeper and staff. He sent you a threatening glare with his scared face when you arrived. He didn't know you and he hated humans for all the scars they gave him. You smiled at him and walked away. Tch, stupid human.

One by one all the hybrids fell for your charms (platonic ones are platonically in love with you) and it made Butch's blood boil. Why couldn't you be satisfied with just being a patron? Why did Shopkeeper look at you that way? Butch had a crush on Shopkeeper for saving him from his horrible life yet never had the courage to approach them. He saw the looks Shopkeeper gave you and it made him angry. He was going to confront you when he saw the scene with Donut occur. He saw the look of fear and worry on your face as you carried Donut gently to your apartment. He saw how you treated Cocoa and the twins as well as Matcha. You didn't have anything to get out of this so why do it?

His answer was given the night an old competitor from the fighting ring came at him with the intention to kill. He managed to kill the guy before he was killed but he was severely injured. He heard footsteps approach him head and he looked up to see you. You kept him awake long enough for the paramedics to arrive and take him to the hospital. The look of worry in your eyes is genuine and your smile of relief reminds him of the smile that Shopkeeper gave him that day they saved him (he's got a thing for nonbinary baddies). Your smile however was less calculated and more genuine.

Badump

Badump

Butch is the last to go yandere because Butch feels guilty. Guilty for hating you when you showed him nothing but kindness, guilty for betraying Shopkeeper like that and guilty for wanting to lock you away where no one but himself can see you. He is one overprotective and loyal pooch, who will protect you until his final breath. Good people don't deserve to face the cruelties a monster like him faced.

The most likely to be poly with you and Shopkeeper as he still holds feelings for Shopkeeper and they're both obsessed with you. You won't want for anything as he holds you in his muscular arms with his head buried in your neck to muffle the sobs.

"Please forgive me for being selfish, you're the only good thing I've got."

*Baba is the gender-neutral affectionate term for parent like mama and papa.

Sorry if it's bad towards the end, I rushed towards Cappuccino and Butch. Please feel free to request scenarios for the new ocs I dropped. ONLY PLATONIC FOR COCOA AND THE TWINS BUT EITHER ROMANTIC OR PLATONIC FOR EVERYONE ELSE.

[warlocksoup]

haikyuu angstober

day two: iwaizumi hajime

art: oracle of black enchantment by mildred payne

soundtrack: ignorant piece of shit by carissa's weird

word count: 700

warnings: implied terminal illness, death, hospital setting, religion, grief, unhappy ending, i cried while writing

taglist is open, complete this form to be added

Iwaizumi does not have a relationship with God. His parents never cared, so he never learned to care. He never learned how to pray, and he’d never needed to.  

The stagnant, sterile smell of the cramped hospital room fills his lungs, and he holds onto her hand, limp and weak. His breathing is shaky, and each inhale is interrupted by a cutting sob. Iwaizumi does his best to hold his breath as he looks down at her, laid out in a hospital bed, eyes shut and gently snoring, IVs tying her down like overgrown vines.

He’d been warned that this was coming. Iwaizumi had been given ample time to prepare; whether that be to cut and run or prematurely grieve or prepare himself for this eventual reality. But instead, he grit his teeth and dug his heels in and pretended that everything she gave him was endless.

Iwaizumi doesn’t let go of her hand as he kneels at her bedside. It’s cold, and he holds it between his own hands as he cups them together in prayer. He doesn’t know how to pray. He doesn’t know how to ask for what he needs. So he starts with a choked up, broken exhalation of, “Please.”

Please, he says again in his head, eyes screwed shut. Please don’t take her away. Please give her another year, at least. She deserves a hundred. She deserves so much more than what you’ve given her. Please don’t take her from me. I’ll do anything. I don’t want her to die. Please. She can’t die. Please, please, please.

The weight of a world without her in it is pressing down on his chest, and he can feel in encroaching, getting heavier and heavier with each plea that echoes in his head. It’s starting to devolve, spinning out of his control and Iwaizumi has to bite down on his tongue and hold all the air in his lungs so his sobs don’t wake her.

His wet eyes open and look up at her, and he exhales slowly, carefully and controlled. She doesn’t look like herself, lips chapped and cheeks hollow with deep, purple bruises under her eyes. She looks like half of her is somewhere else.

Please, he says internally again, lifting her hand slightly to place a kiss on the curve of her finger. Please, he pleads as one hand reaches up to smooth out the ends of her tangled, brittle hair. Please, his thumb traces the outline of her jaw, just slightly trembling.

When the sun was high in the sky and she could still stand steadily on her own two feet, she had taken a hold of Iwaizumi’s hand and drawn patterns on his palm. The air smelled like the salt of the sea. “When the time comes,” she had asked, quiet and unsure, “can you be there with me? I don’t want to go alone.”

Iwaizumi turned his head at the time. He regrets this now. He wishes he had taken hold of her then and looked her in the eye when he said, “Of course I will.”

Please, Iwaizumi thinks, like it’s the only word left that he knows. He bites down on the inside of his cheek until he tastes blood. Please.

When it happens, it’s uneventful. It’s quiet. Iwaizumi is sitting by her side, in the same spot he’s occupied for weeks, tangling his fingers with hers like he was trying to tether her down.

He almost doesn’t notice it, when the constant beeping off the heart monitor slowly starts to fade, and then peters off. Iwaizumi was focused on her hand, how it felt in his, how cold it had gotten. It takes a few moments for the silence to settle over him.

And when it catches up to him, he raises his head to look at her, half-expecting her to be sitting up, the wires that connected her to the monitor ripped off and hanging limply in her curled fist. But she’s just lying there, still, like sleep.

Iwaizumi stands and leans over her. His hand is shaking as it reaches down to caress her cheek. He doesn’t notice he’s crying until it drips onto her hospital robes. Her snores stop, and her chest doesn’t rise.

if you enjoyed please consider reblogging or sending in an ask <3

taglist: @hiraethwa @lale-txt @kr1nqu @angee444 @psychedellyc @geektastic84 @solzscribblez @asrinchin @nyxlai @miiyas @wyrcan @chocolains @tsumuus @kameyyy

[pursuitseternal]

“I wanted to hear you whimper…” ✨Update to “Bites in the Night”✨

Act 1 Astarion x f!Reader | E | 3K

Summary: After fighting your way out of the Githyanki Crèche, your vampire has a raging… ego. And you need to check it, to remind him his place… and to hear him whimper.

CW: Subby Astarion, Whimper alert, mild bondage, inappropriate use of grasping vines, begging, brat taming, face sitting, anal fingering, oral sex

Ao3 link | series on ao3 | Masterlist

“Well…” he purrs, that aspirate ‘h’ somewhere in the middle of the word making you bristle with irritation. “I thought they’d never leave…” Astarion grins, spattered in Githyanki blood as he casually licks his blade clean.

He’s the image of cool and collected… as if you all didn’t just fight your way out of the entire Crèche in the Rosymorn Monastery. As if Gale didn’t almost die three times and as if you didn’t get your favorite weapons disarmed from your hands twice. “Leave?” you snap at him. “They’re dead!”

Astarion sheathes his blade and starts to suck the blood clean from under his fingernails. “Seems hardly a difference worth fighting over, darling. Same result.”

“No, it’s a result of your big… fat… mouth,” you snip the words, closing the distance to poke him in the leather armored chest with every word. “And you defaced their painting of Vlakith! You’re lucky your undead guts aren’t being used for training targets.”

Astarion just gives that same conceited, shit-eating grin. “My guts are perfectly fine. Theirs are spread on the ground… and, since you seem in a feisty mood…” he leans in close to purr in your ear, “perhaps you’d like your guts rearranged, dear?”

“Ugh!” you gag in disgust at the suggestion. “You arsehole. You should be apologizing for that smart mouth of yours.”

“Darling, I rarely apologize, and I never do when I’m in the right. Thanks to me, we can leave this mausoleum.” He comments with a flick of his wrist, ignoring your enraged glare and heading for camp.

That’s when something snaps inside you. The other companions are already well up the trail from the Monastery. And, by now, when you and Astarion disappear, they know better than to come looking… and Shadowheart usually has her hands already glowing with Lesser Restoration. A nice treat for after feeling the blood loss on your end of your trysts.

But not this time.

“You’re a proper bastard, aren’t you?” you hiss at him, heart racing with the need to fight.

But he just flashes you that cool, collective seductive smile. “Such a mean spirit, you wouldn’t want me to have to teach you some manners… would you?” His lean frame crowds you, one arm reaching to cage you in against the tree behind you. “I’m feeling rather good right now… all that Githyanki blood has given me quite the raging… affliction. I could use your help…” his eyes flash dangerously seductive as he grabs your wrist and guides your hand to his clothed erection.

Tearing your hand away, you cuss at him. “Fucking arrogant Elf,” you hiss, grabbing him by the top of his flushed and pointed ear. “You’re going to learn manners, not me!”

Astarion crumples between your pinching fingers. Knees buckling, voice cracking, eyes tearing… you’d think you had kicked him in the balls with how pathetically he’s reacting now. “Ow, ow, ow,” he whines as you drag him off the path into the sunny woods of the Mountain Path.

You have to reach high to grab it, that pink tip of his ear, but the ache in your shoulder is worth it for how he instantly cows to you. He’s sputtering curses and calling you names, but it’s hard to take them seriously as his voice breaks with shrill whines.

Like a boy in puberty, every word cracks in his voice.

“Cheeky little… argh!” He squeals as you squeeze harder, making his feet stumble. Just in time. You find what you’re looking for.

Grasping vines, a nice little patch.

“You, my vampire, have been insufferable long enough today. Apologize,” you command.

He scoffs, trying to reach for your punishing fingers on his most tender of spots. “I won’t apologize for killing our enemies in battle. They had it coming, those Gith…”

“Hmmm, guess what, my dear,” you cup his bloodied cheek with your free hand, bringing him in for a kiss. His lips tremble against yours, his ear is still nabbed tightly in your grip, after all. You whisper in delicate and threatening tones against his mouth. “Now you’ve got your own thing coming as a result.”

He gasps, cool breath on your face as you guide him to the ground by his ear. “Hands above your head, and if you’re a good boy, I’ll even let you come.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he snarls, trying to jerk his ear free as he lies in the grass and dirt, but the pain only makes him hiss and relent as you hold fast.

“Oh I dare, Astarion. I dare because you’re being an obnoxious, unbearable… louse!”

“I think you mean leech,” he tries to giggle, a snap of his fangs beneath you. “I have more in common with leeches.”

Your withering glare gives him just enough pause, those hard lines of his eyes softening, gaze widening as he realizes you aren’t joking.

“Hands above your head, leech,” you give your icy command.

Those elegant hands move in obedience, slender, skilled digits twitching slightly as they extend across the forest floor until…

…with a creaking groan, the grasping vines do their job, locking his wrists and upper arms neatly in place.

“Wretched hells, you have to be joking,” he growls, fighting against the vines as anger flares in those crimson eyes. “You have got to be joking, darling.”

“Serious as death itself,” you smirk down at him. “Now all you can use is your smart mouth, and until you apologize, I’m going to give it something to do.

You pull off your leather armor and underthings slowly. A smile turns your lips as you watch Astarion try to slip his hand from the vines unsuccessfully. A sweat is dotting his brow, eyes roam your exposed skin and follow your hand to where your fingers slide themselves to bury into your own cunt.

His fangs catch in the patches of sunlight through the canopy. Pupils blown wide, he watches your hand, his pink tongue wetting his lips at the sight. It doesn’t take any effort to perceive the prodding, twitching erection in his leathers. “Are you going to apologize for being a proper twat?”

“As I demonstrated today with our Gith friends, I’m not one to back down from a fight… darling….”

Oh, that smug grin on his face, that tongue teasing the corner of his mouth… you want to smack it from his handsome face, you want to… to…

You step over him. Feet framing his chest, you lower yourself to your knees, fingers parting your folds to show his hungry eyes your swollen little clit. “If you insist on being a cunt, you can taste mine…”

He smirks wider, purring and stretching beneath you. Proud of himself. “Oh darling, I…”

The groan that comes from your mouth as you cover him with your folds is so loud, birds startle from the trees. You grind, slow rolls that push his prominent, aquiline nose right against your aching clit. Finally, that tongue that has caused you nothing but trouble today is put to good use as it thrusts in and circles around your channel. His laughter tickles up your spine from your sex, and you can almost feel his self-satisfaction as you positively drench his face.

But this is supposed to be retribution. A lesson to tame his brat behavior. So you grab a fist of his perfect, blood-streaked silver hair and yank. “Mmmph,” he whines loudly into your folds. Desperation and pain. It’s high pitched, pitiful. And you shake him a bit, your breathing ragged from being driven so close to your release already.

“This isn’t for you, Astarion, it’s for me,” you snap, watching the twinkle of mischief flash in those crimson depths. “You’ve been naughty… intolerable. And now you’re going to pay for it.”

“Oh I quake in my boots,” he thrusts his hips up behind you into the air, miming what pleasures await. “I’m all a-quiver with fear,” he sniggers.

You fist your hand tighter in his hair until he hisses and whines that you’ll ruin it. “Just remember, it’s a good thing you don’t need to breathe.”

Those eyes widen at your implied threat as you sit firmly on his mouth and nose and chin. His skin already slick with your arousal, he works his head and tongue inside your folds for far longer than any mortal would survive. You grind slowly, careful not to let in too much air, savoring all the friction he can give you.

And he… he knows his duty. All fangs and tongue and lips as you roll your clit on his nose. Your walls flutter around his tongue, your pulse thumping in your ears now, no longer from rage but from hot, desperate arousal. “I’m close,” you gasp, and you know he hears you as his pointed ears twitch. “Make me come, and I just might let you, too.” You give a low, threatening laugh, “eventually that is.”

That’s when you feel it on your clit, his face sliding in your folds as he catches your bud in his front, blunted teeth and nips.

You groan, voice breaking in a scream as you come around nothing. Holding yourself up with your fist in his hair, you can’t just let yourself pitch forward or you’ll end up in the vines too. So you shake in your bliss, braced against his face and scalp as your tremors wrack through you.

Raising up, you move to kneel beside him, pulling out a rag from your bag of holding to wipe his face off.

“You just can’t keep your hands off me, even after you’ve come. Isn’t that right, darling?” He gives you that arrogant asshole of a smirk, and you mirror it. Slowly, you pop open the fastening of that blue and burgundy leather armor until his cream undershirt lies damp against his skin. You can feel his belly clenching under your feather light touch, watching it rise and fall with ragged breaths.

As your hand brushes gingerly over the rock hard bulge in his leathers, he hisses, a low giggle of a laugh in his throat. “I’ve made you feel good, haven’t I? I think I deserve a treat,” he sasses you, another roll of his hips to push his erection against your palm.

But you’re not done, and you give his cock a punishing squeeze through his leathers. “Hush,” you snap. You reach into your bag again, pulling out an eagle feather and a bottle of oil. “Now, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll open your mouth to do one of two things: apologize….” You lean forward to place a gentle kiss on his lips, “or beg.”

He laughs, catching you off guard as he bites your lips until you taste blood. “You know by now, I never beg,” he growls, pride dripping from his words.

“First time for everything,” you hiss, pulling your mouth out of his reach and licking your blood from your lips. Reaching for the feather, you tickle it over the sharp, mouthwatering line of his jaw. “We’ll start with something soft, I think…” Just that downy tip traces the lines of his chest, the chiseled muscles underneath flex and constrict as his belly clenches.

“Fuck,” he gasps, his breathing light and rapid. You hear his hands straining against the vines, their growth creaking as he fights for freedom. “Mmhm,” you hear him whine, that feather tracing the line of his waistband as his cock remains twitching.

Untouched.

His eyes are blown, pupils wide and dark as his body undulates under your teasing touch.

“I think I heard you speak, but not to apologize or beg…” you taunt, leaning over him, setting aside the feather in favor of a single finger. Your isolated touch trails the same pattern, those ridges of his abdominals are a map you know by heart now. “So you’ll have to suffer having me touch you like this ‘til you ask nicely…”

Your finger wanders to his hips, just brushing the outline of his cock. He bucks into nothingness, into open air… his breathing rough, his belly rapidly rising and clenching repeatedly. “Eugh,” he whines, your finger tracing that prominent ridge at the base of his cock head.

“Ready to apologize or beg?” you lean down to whisper in his ear, but by the way his fang bites his bottom lip, you can see he’s still clinging too tightly to that insufferable pride.

“Neither,” he says bravely, but the sensation of your hand reaching into his leathers makes an open-mouth whine rip from his mouth. You force your hand into that waistband. It’s snug, especially with how hard he’s gotten. And all you have room to do is squeeze, pulsing your fist around his shaft. You can feel the slow thump of his undead heart in his dick, so hard and so aroused as he is. “Hells… fuck… damn you…” he whines something new with every squeeze you give him.

“Just say ‘sorry,’ or ‘please,’ and all this can go much faster,” you taunt, a singsong in your voice as you release him to unlace his pants. He just gives a pathetic sigh as his cock is freed. You know it aches. All that blood from the Gith, all your teasing has made him flushed and hard and leaking precum profusely. His crimson eyes stare at your lips as you lick them, his whole world narrowed to their wet promise of release and the aching tingle in his cock. It takes a second to shimmy his leathers to the tops of his boots and to uncork the bottle of oil.

A generous amount on your hands and you smile at him. “Come on, you rascal. After all the trouble you caused, don’t you feel the least bit sorry?”

His fangs bite his lower lip tighter again, the sharp lines of his face set, determined to prevail.

Your mouth quirks to one side, hand wandering a single oily finger up his taut thigh, then between those pert ass cheeks of his.

His voice cracks in a whimper, fangs piercing into his own skin as you tease one, single finger around the tight ring of his hole. He tries so hard to snarl, to buck his hips as if he has any control. His cock just juts into the air, twitching and leaking, as you tease inside that ring of muscle just a little more… and more. The oil helps to slide your finger in, just the one digit you thrust in and out. He voices his rapid breathing, quick fire noises that sound so pathetic from his throat, you’re almost tempted to give in and bring him the sweet release you both crave.

“By the hells,” he opens his mouth, whining like a child, “you’re going to really make me pay for just being myself, aren’t you?”

“And just who do you think you are?” You snigger, all those feelings of sympathy evaporate, and suddenly you have two fingers knuckle deep in his ass. Jamming them in slowly, you crook over and over until you find that spot inside him that makes him shudder and writhe. “Ha… huh…” he’s huffing with each stroke you make inside him. “P….p….”

“Is that a ‘p-p-please’ that’s starting to finally form on your irritating tongue?” you chide him, pressing your lips on the spasming plane of his belly even as your fingers fuck him. “And don’t fool yourself, I’m making you pay not because you’re insufferable… or mischievous… or down right maliciously cruel…”

Your fingers continue their torture in his tight walls. Another kiss on his stomach, a flick of your tongue below his navel and more along those deep v cut grooves over his hips, and you hear the most divine noises from his lips. “Just so we’re clear, I’m doing this to show you your place… to remind you, you need to be a member of my party… and just because I want to hear you whimper.” You lower your mouth, his eyes almost black with lust as they stare at you. He watches you lick your lips slowly only to just breathe warm, damp air on his cock. He grunts, fangs and teeth grit as it jerks widely from the promise of contact. “Beg for me, dear…”

You can hear his little swallowed growls in time with your fingers that are still thrusting inside him.

“Beg for me to let you come…”

His breathing comes in rapid succession, hissing between his clenching teeth. Until… finally… he opens them for a single word. “Please…”

But you just laugh, low and rough in your throat. “Louder, you proud, arrogant bastard.”

“Hells, just…. Fuck me… please!” He finally breaks, voice high and breathless as he bucks his hips into the air closer to your face. A desperate attempt at contact. Any contact.

You stick out your tongue, a teasing lick up the underside of his shaft to clean the mess of precum that’s positively dripping in streams. His cock twitches away from your tongue, a mind of its own. And you laugh, letting your lips and throat vibrate as you slowly suckle him down. Your fingers prod just right, and those warm, tight muscles inside him pulse and tighten… until his cum fills your mouth. He erupts with the most pathetic sounds yet… all rapid whines that crack his voice box until he can only grunt in time with his cock spasms. He fills you; the taste is familiar, but his seed is strangely warm on your tongue. Perhaps it’s from positively gorging himself today. Maybe that’s one thing that you could enjoy because of his arrogance. You smile as you swallow, savoring the look on his sweaty face. You pull your oiled fingers free, cleaning you both with a rag.

“Still feeling like a brat?” You taunt him, as you wipe his softening cock.

“I’m hardly ever a brat, darling…”

You scoff, throwing the rag on his face. “Maybe I should leave you like this until the vines decide they’re tired of your attitude too.”

“Gods, no, please,” he adds quickly. And you just smile down at him, naked and triumphant as you say two more words…

“Good boy.”

[deathlikelead]

all of the yellowjackets are going to die.

i've had different versions of this theory bouncing around in my head since mid s1, and if you've seen final destination, you can just skip the rest of the post because you probably already know where i'm going with this.

natalie's death scene was overall unsatisfying in my opinion, but that's not because i don't think that the show was leading up to it eventually. her character arc was rushed and cut off too abruptly, but after sitting with the episode for a bit, i do think that natalie was always going to be the first of the survivors we saw die.

"we both know that's not true. this is exactly where we belong. we've been here for years."

now it's notable that natalie is appearing as she did the night of the party in the pilot. the last night before the plane crash. not just her outfit, but her hair and make up are the same. see how much of her roots are grown out, vs how much they're grown out in the 96 timeline.

when that plane went down 600 miles off course, no one was supposed to survive. not a single person on that plane should have made it out. The Wilderness, the lonely, violent, misunderstood Wilderness kept them alive when they crashed into It. when they found cabin guy's plane back in s1, lottie looked at the vines growing around the wheels and said "It didn't want him to leave", and she was right. laura lee's trip ending in spontaneous combustion should have been enough to prove that if only they were paying attention by then.

they all should have died when that plane crashed. The Wilderness allowed them to survive, to make a home. albeit violently, tragically, It nurtured them through two winters, and ungratefully, they all left anyway. eventually they're all going to have to go home to It, one way or another, dead or alive. It's already been inside them for years.

[sentientgolfball]

okay golfball NO i cant stop thinking about the phantom/mountain and then swiss think nghngnghg the fucking ENDING arghgfhhfhg id totally die if you wrote a continuation to this like...does swiss accept the challenge??? how does phantom feel about maybe being fought over so soon??? maybe they discover they have a thing for objectification and/or posessiveness??? i MUST know my friend

I think. Mayhaps. I got a little carried away with this. I hope everyone enjoys part 2 to this mwhehehehehe :3

Word Count: 2953

Tags: irresponsible use of earth magick, probably the meanest I've written Mount, objectification, free use

He’s stopped by a low growl coming from Mountain. He looks up, meeting his emerald eyes. He can see the warning in the way they darken. Swiss grins, fangs flashing in the dim light of the setting sun. He’s never been one to back down from a challenge.  

“You know, sharing is caring Mount.” Swiss tugs Phantom closer to him with the grip on their tail. They whimper despite the way their cock begins to chub up again. 

Mountain doesn’t respond verbally. He growls again, deep like rolling thunder. He bares his fangs and his eyes begin to glow softly. It takes Swiss a moment to process, but he’s too late. The forest of plants in Mountain’s room come to life, thick, leafy vines wrapping around his arms and neck. Swiss curses and tries to fight his way out of their grip, but he can’t. Not without destroying them. The vines tighten and twist until they’re able to force Swiss to let go of Phantom, tying his arms securely behind his back. He glares at Mountain. 

“You really wanna do this? Right in front of the new summon?” 

“Yeah hey what the fuck is going on?” Phantom murmurs. 

Mountain doesn’t respond. Either because he didn’t hear them or he doesn’t care to answer, Swiss isn’t sure. Instead he tugs Phantom closer until they’re squished against his chest. 

“Hey Mountain. Buddy—oh.” They’re stopped when he sinks his fangs into the side of their neck. He keeps eye contact with Swiss. Phantom squirms in his arms. Their cock gets so hard so fast it makes them lightheaded. 

“Are you fucking serious,” Swiss snarls, “You’re that much of a possessive bitch you can’t even—“ 

The vines around Swiss’ neck tighten. Not enough to cut off airflow, but enough to have him gasping. He thrashes, instincts taking over as he tries to get away. They only grow tighter around him. 

Mountain detaches himself from Phantom’s neck, blood staining his lips. He doesn’t seal the wound, letting rivers of ruby drip down their chest. He swipes his tongue over his fangs, still holding eye contact with Swiss. Phantom is panting quietly in the space between them. 

“You don’t touch things that don’t belong to you,” Mountain’s voice is deep, deeper than usual and gravelly. 

The words make something stir within Phantom. The sinister look in Mountain’s eyes isn’t helping that feeling. They’ve never belonged to anyone before. Never had more than a few interactions with other ghouls before being summoned. Now they’re pressed tight to this massive earth ghoul’s chest with their blood running down his face, staining his fangs. That combined with the sudden change from sweet and attentive to predatory and snarling has their head swimming. The gentle Mountain was nice, but they think they’d like to get to know this one even more. 

Their focus is pulled from Mountain with choked off curses in Infernal spilling from Swiss’ lips. They watch him struggling against the vines, black and white eyes rapidly changing colors as he tries to get ahold of his elements. They knew Swiss had eyes for them, kind of hard not to with their quintessence. But watching him actively trying to defy Mountain, just to get to them, makes more heat pool in their stomach. It makes their cock throb where it’s trapped against Mountain’s abdomen. 

Mountain grips their jaw hard, forcing them to look back at him. His expression is cold, a stark contrast to the adoration from mere moments ago. Mountain studies them, eyeing them like a bug caught under a microscope. Phantom feels their cheek heat at his stoic gaze. Suddenly he sighs. 

“Will you be quiet,” he growls, snapping his fangs. 

Swiss gets one last hiss in before another vine wraps around his mouth, effectively gagging him. If looks could kill, Mountain would be a dead man. Swiss’ tail lashes wildly behind him, the air whistling behind him as it whips. 

“Better,” he turns his attention back to Phantom,” since he cannot fathom that I got to you first, I’ll just have to restake my claim.”

Phantom gasps when they feel Mountain trace a finger around their hole. He doesn’t hesitate to dip two fingers inside, reveling in the feeling of his cum still there. It’s not like they need the prep after the first time, but Mountain doesn’t care. He likes listening to the sweet little sounds they make when he curls his fingers just right. And he loves watching Swiss sweat, eyes blazing with desire and breathing heavily through his nostrils like the muzzled beast he is. He slips a third finger in, still meeting no resistance, just to watch his pupils blow. 

Mountain grins when he feels Phantom’s tail wrap around his forearm. He uses his other hand to gently pet along the length of it before unwinding it. He tugs their tail up roughly, earning a wounded little whine. He exposes them completely, staring down Swiss over their shoulder while he works his fingers. Swiss played the wrong game with the wrong ghoul. Mountain won’t relent until he’s crying. But Swiss is a stubborn fool, he won’t go down just from some foreplay. Good thing Mountain is determined. 

He slides his fingers out of Phantom with a slick pop, spreading their cheeks just so Swiss can watch his cum drip out of their ass. He growls, fangs puncturing the vine that’s wrapped around his mouth. Mountain flinches, glaring at him. 

“Do that again and we’ll have a real problem on our hands.” A vine with massive thorns slithers out from under the bed, stopping right at Swiss’ feet. The thorns are thick, all black and red at the very tips. Swiss immediately recognizes them as flora from the Pit. He’s too afraid to even wonder how Mountain was able to grow these, let alone why. 

Just as quickly as they appeared, they disappear. Slithering back under the bed, out of sight but not out of mind. Swiss just nods, message received loud and clear. Mountain hums before turning his attention back to Phantom. He slides his hands up, wrapping around their waist. Phantom follows the movement with their eyes and nearly chokes when they see his thumbs are practically touching. Obviously Mountain is big, but they never realized how small they were. 

They don’t have long to sit on this revelation before his hold tightens. He grips them roughly, sure to leave bruises in the morning. Mountain lifts them with ease, positioning them so that their hole is hovering right over his cock. Mountain shifts to plant his hooves firmly on the mattress. The movement brushes the tip against them and Phantom lets out a shuddering breath. Without warning Mountain slams them down, hips meeting hips. They’re still so open from the first time that he goes in with almost no resistance. There’s the faintest stinging feeling of stretching and it makes Phantom’s mouth water. 

“You were made for me weren’t you?” Mountain rumbles as he begins to rock his hips up into them. 

Phantom just nods deliriously, a soft little uhhuh falling from their lips. It’s too hard to think of a more intelligible response with a dick the size of their forearm pushing against their prostate. Mountain hums in approval before dipping his head to lick up the trails of dried blood. He drags his tongue all the way to the source. The bite is no longer dripping, but it’s still wet and shiny with the blood that’s bubbling at the surface. Mountain traces the outline of his fang indents before wrapping his lips around the wound and sucking. Phantom keens, digging their claws into his shoulders. The pricks of pain send a zap of pleasure down Mountain’s spine, pooling in his stomach. He slams his hips into Phantom with enough force to have them gasping. 

Swiss can’t take his eyes off of where they meet, can’t look away from the sight of Phantom’s hole stretching around Mountain’s cock. From the way each thrust has more and more of Mountain’s cum dripping down his length to coat his balls. He’s so hard it hurts and he wants nothing more than to bury himself inside of his sweet little bug. He knows exactly what to do to get what he wants. He just has to wait. Wait until Mountain’s focus waivers enough for Swiss to use his own little bit of earth to get these vines off of him. Until then he’ll enjoy the show. 

Phantom feels overwhelmed in the best way possible. They can’t decide whether to focus on the feeling of Mountain practically sucking their blood or the way he’s hammering into a spot so deep within them they didn’t even realize it was there. It’s maddening and they want more. That combined with the feeling of Swiss’ gaze on their body makes their mind feel fuzzy. Being put on display like this makes everything feel more intense if that were even possible. Sure they’ve seen their new packmates go at each other, but to be on the other end of it is something else entirely. They think they prefer it this way. 

Mountain hits a particularly good spot and it has their body instinctively clenching. Though, it’s a fruitless effort with how stretched open they are. Still, Mountain must feel something because he grunts against Phantom’s skin before picking up the pace. It has Phantom gasping and writhing against him, falling boneless against his chest. They wrap their arms around his shoulders and bury their face in the crook of his neck, trying to stay grounded. It's all they can do with the force Mountain is fucking them. 

“Taking it so good bug,” he murmurs into their ear, “nobody is ever going to be able to fuck you like this. They’ll try and all you’ll be able to do is think of me.” 

Swiss narrows his eyes. He can’t hear what he’s saying, but he knows if Mountain is muttering filth into Phantom’s ear then he’s close. Swiss won’t have to wait to get his hands on his little bug much longer. His black and white eyes shift to a deep forest green as he begins to work his own earth magick into the vines. 

Mountain doesn’t notice. He’s too caught up in the feeling of Phantom wrapped around him. Too close to care about anything that’s not immediate pleasure. He sucks a mark in the space between their ear and jaw and they let out the prettiest, high pitched moan. That’s enough for Mountain. He gets about three good thrusts in before he cums with a shout. He rocks his hips through the waves of his orgasm, fucking his spend as deep as he can inside of Phantom. He kisses and licks across their neck, taking in as much of that ozone and frozen apple scent as he can. He’s not even aware of them shaking in his arms, working their way through their own release. That is, until a sudden weight on the bed steals his attention. 

Mountain lifts his head from Phantom’s neck slowly, chest still heaving. Swiss is kneeling on the mattress right next to them, a dangerous grin on his face. Mountain watches the green bleed from his eyes, shifting back to their normal black and white. 

“My turn.” He narrows his eyes. 

To his surprise, Mountain relents. He loosens his hold on Phantom enough that Swiss is able to pull them against him. 

“You going soft on me, Mount?” Swiss teases, hungry eyes roaming over Phantom. 

“Not at all.” 

Swiss yelps when a hand wraps around a horn, yanking his head to expose his neck. Mountain shifts the fabric of his muscle tee out of the way, just enough to expose the raised lines of scarred tissue that rests in the spot where shoulder meets neck. 

“No harm in letting my toys play for a little.” As if to drive his point home, Mountain presses his thumb into the old mark. Swiss involuntarily whimpers at the pressure, a blush dusting his cheeks. 

Normally he’d argue, make things difficult just for his own amusement. Not this time. Swiss has been handed what he wants on a silver platter and he’s not going to push his luck. He’ll save that for another night. Instead he shakes himself out of Mountain’s hold, glaring at him before turning his attention to Phantom. He runs a clawed hand through their hair, earning himself a reedy little whine when he scratches against their scalp. 

“You wanna be used so bad, don’t you?” Swiss asks all too sweet for the situation at hand. 

“Please,” Phantom breathes before they can even think about what Swiss is saying. 

“Oh an eager little thing. I like that. Don’t you worry bug, I’ll give you exactly what you want.” Swiss uses his other hand to pull the waistband of his sweatpants down. 

He slides them down far enough to get his cock out, not bothering with taking them all the way off. Phantom’s eyes go wide at the little gold bead at the tip. They didn’t know you could get pierced there too. Swiss laughs at the way they stare at it. 

“Like what you see?” 

“Uhhuh” Phantom mumbles with a shake of their head. 

Swiss hums, “Why don’t you show it how much you like it?” 

Swiss uses the hand in their hair to bring them that much closer to his cock. Phantom gets the hint, tongue flicking out to experimentally lick at the slit. They make a low noise in their throat when the taste of him hits their tongue. They dive back in, tongue lapping up every drop of pre that bubbles up. 

“Come on buggy, kiss it. Suck it. It’s not nice to tease.” 

Mountain snorts, “That’s rich coming from you.” 

“Can it dirt boy. You know you—“ 

Swiss chokes on his words when Phantom wraps their lips around the tip of his cock. They run the flat of their tongue over the bar of the piercing and Swiss sees stars. The hand nestled in their hair tightens, pushing them down farther. He’s able to shove them down until their nose is pressed against the coarse hair at the base without them gagging or pulling back. Swiss laughs when realization hits. 

“You really were made for taking dick, huh?” 

Phantom looks up at him through their lashes. There’s a sheen of wetness in their eyes, but they don’t make a move to detach themselves from him. Swiss gives an experimental roll of his hips and the little noise they make stokes the fire in his veins. He gently traces their jaw with the tips of his fingers, trailing them down until he wraps that hand around their throat. Swiss doesn’t apply any pressure, just holds them. 

He pulls out of their mouth until just the tip is resting against their bottom lip. He tilts his head, flashes a fang filled smile before shoving himself back in in one go. He fucks Phantom’s throat with urgency, desperate now that he finally has his cock in them. He doesn’t even feel the bite of their claws in his thighs, too lost in the feeling of himself through their skin. Phantom is pliant, breathing heavily through their nose and keeping their jaw lax so Swiss can take what he needs. They want to be used. They like being used. 

Swiss can’t take his eyes off of their face. The dusky little blush that goes from the tips of their ears to the base of their neck. Their unfocused, hazy eyes. Pupils blown, consumed entirely by lust. The stray trails of tears that manage to slip from the corners. The way their lips and chin are shiny from a mix of drool and pre. It’s too much for him. Fuck it’s too much. 

He gets a few more good thrusts in before he slams them down as far as they’ll possibly go. Swiss’ head tips back when he cums, a long drawn out moan echoing around the room. He shudders as Phantom eagerly swallows around him, drinking down every last drop. Savoring the taste of him. Swiss finally pulls them off when pleasure turns to overstimulation. 

They smile deliriously at him, a line of salvia still connecting their lips to the head of his cock. Swiss smiles back, pulling them up to his chest and flopping back onto the pillows. Mountain shifts so that he can pull the tangle of ghouls closer to him. 

“You with us little love?” Mountain runs his hands through their hair, careful to not pull on any knots. 

“I think…I think I discovered some things about myself tonight,” they laugh a little, smiling at both of the bigger ghouls. 

“Glad we could be of service.” Swiss kisses between their horns with a grin. 

They chuff happily, nuzzling their nose into the crook of Swiss’ neck. Their tail wrapping around one of Mountain’s legs. Mountain shifts closer to Swiss, resting his head on top of his, careful to avoid his horns. Swiss tilts his head up to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. 

“I didn’t hurt you did I?” Mountain murmurs into his hair. 

“No Momo I’m okay. Scared the fuck of me though when you brought out that trailing death.” 

Mountain hums, “You know I’d never actually let it prick you, right?” 

Swiss kisses him again, gently rubbing at the base of Phantom’s horn, “Course I do…but why the fuck do you even have that?” 

Mountain pulls back ever so slightly, just even to be able to look down at him. He smiles, “Its leaves make a wonderful sedative. So sweet you’d never know they were in there.” 

[calehenituse-brainrot]

Symphony

Cale Henituse | Kim Rok Soo x Transported!Reader

With blood, sweat, and tears.

tw: gore and cannibalism

Sometimes, Ron sees how anyone could think of his young master as a God, because who in their right mind would dare to challenge a God but another one of their own? 

Rosalyn's magic circle appeared on the island's surface, glowing red and magnificent as ever, covering the split trunk of the majestic tree like a dome, and right then, Cale descended from the sky like a God, his shirt torn at where his heart was and showed an ugly, distorted scar. Dried blood stains his pale skin and his shirt, and he looks absolutely awful.

"Human!" Raon cried out in relief. "What happened, human?! Where is [Name]?"

They all came to Cale, crowding him and immediately ready to abide by every order that drips from his lips. Cale pointed at the form of the ancient God, of vines and sticks imbued with divinity. "With that thing. He's planning to bring [Name] to the split trunk where he will most likely seal and fuse her with the island."

"What exactly is it?" Beacrox asked quietly, more to himself than to Cale.

But surprisingly enough, Cale turned to him and provided a vague answer, "If my guess is right... It could be her father."

"Her father?" Ron echoed, his eyes widening. "What does that--?"

"What are your orders?" Ron cuts off his son, frowning as he looks at his master. There was no time to sit down and explain the past nor to get a clear perspective on this situation. There are people with magical powers and Whales could turn to Whales. This was the least surprising thing.

When Cale finally spoke, his voice came out commanding and it immediately caused everyone to stood their ground. "[Name] is connected to the vines of that god. There could be a big possibility that she could still be freed from it. We will try to take her from that beast without doing much damage, but that's the best possible scenario. The worst would be destroying that island and the thing that sits atop of it."

Cale, Rosalyn, and Choi Han should have sustained a fatal injury from having the vines penetrating their heart and the moment it was taken out, they should have bled out to death, but they didn't. Instead, the open wound closed and healed quickly. Cale was pretty sure it was because the god's vines were actively healing you, and because your hearts had been connected with the very same vines, Cale, Choi Han, and Rosalyn's wounds were immediately healed.

It meant you wouldn't immediately die upon being detached from the god's vines.

You have a chance for survival.

"Your Highness, when it comes to it, please arrange for your men to do everything they can to destroy that island," Cale said to Withira. "The ancient God that resides in the island has grown weaker with that tree gone and could only focus on keeping the form they have now and keeping [Name] alive."

Withira's eyes widened, a chill running down her spine. There was something mind-boggling about the fact that the island that her predecessors had agreed to let be was going to be destroyed in her hands. She had lived with so many urban stories surrounding this island and now she was going to have it destroyed under her command.

Cale stared at the older woman. "Could you do it?" 

Withira glanced at the island, feeling the weight of the order. Despite how little the island's influence was to the Whale tribe's reign, Withira had grown up hearing all sorts of stories about it. It had become a small legend within their community and was consistently being passed down to calves. However, seeing the ragged looks of Cale and his company, how they looked at her almost desperately for her aid -- Withira couldn't possibly turn their request away just because she held a bit of a sentimental value to that island.

Withira nodded with a determined frown. "Please leave it to me."

Withira jumped back to the water, morphing into her whale form the moment she hit the water. Cale watched as she swam to the island and her men began to crash into the floating island, causing strong tremors to the island, trying their best to tilt the island and make sure it would break into smaller pieces.

Cale turned to Ron and Beacrox along with the kittens. "You will be responsible for evacuating [Name] to a safe distance. The moment we managed to bring her on top of this ship, head back to the continent without us if we took to long."

Ron bowed his head. "Understood, Young Master-nim."

"Raon," Cale called out to the dragon, smiling. Raon's eyes widened and glimmered before he was quickly beside Cale.

The Black Dragon sees something in his human's brown eyes. For months, Cale had been depressed. His light brown eyes would always reflect affection towards him and the others, but Raon sees so clearly that something in him must have died with you when Cale stepped back into the bedroom that day to inform them all of your death. 

Now, it's back alive. His eyes glimmered under the bright sun and the blue sky, determination and hope filling his face. His human looks filled with spirit.

"We'll be bringing [Name] home," Cale said to the dragon, and when he said that, Raon heard how much Cale meant it. To himself or Raon, the Black Dragon wasn't sure. Cale smiled endearingly, "Are you ready?"

Raon nodded, smiling brightly. "Yes!"

Wind gathered around Cale's feet and he flew back to the island, Raon flying beside him and heading towards the ancient god that was fighting Choi Han. The wind has never felt so suffocating and yet so freeing to Cale. He flew with the determination that he would not come back without you and he recognized that he might be so desperate that he could screw all of this up and he would never be able to see you again. You're so close to him, so close that he could hold you once more.

Choi Han was slicing every single branch that came after him and every single one grew rapidly as if it was the head of a Hydra. Rosalyn's magic circle was constantly shooting out fire after fire toward the lump of branches that was carrying you, her eyes rapidly looking through every nook and cranny of the beast to see if there was any indication of a weak spot that wasn't anywhere near where you were. Her keen eyes seemed to be moving at a speed that Cale himself couldn't comprehend, analyzing every weakness she could take advantage of.

'Give me something!' Rosalyn thought, her teeth gritting in restlessness as she looked for an opening within the god's physical form, watching it drag itself along with you on top back to the hollowed gigantic tree in the middle of the island. It felt like once it reached the tree, they would lose you forever. Rosalyn wasn't going to sit around and see whether her assumptions are true or not.

The god's physical form was similar to the silhouette of an octopus crawling on land, dragging his body along the ground with you on its back. When one of the "tendrils" of the god was raised and showed the tiniest opening under it, Rosalyn conjured another magic circle and aimed it towards that opening, blowing up that bit of the arm and watched with a horrified expression as that part of the god's form was blown up to bits and rotten dead bodies spilled out to the ground. The smell of rotten and burnt corpses immediately filled her senses and she gagged, feeling like her gut was going to come up to her throat at the horrid smell.

Choi Han paused for a moment and looked down at the branches that he had cut down, his face pale as he realized the multiple faces etched onto them.

"Cale-nim!" Choi Han yelled to Cale who was up in the air with Raon. "It's not wood! They're dead bodies!"

Cale could see the dozens of rotten bodies that were on the ground and how they seemed to melt into the ground, turning into mounds of vegetation and leaving the scent of rotten bodies despite how they have turned into plants.  

'No wonder you weren't able to control them,' the priestess said with disgust. 'That god's form is made up of his worshippers. It could also be why they could still survive for so long despite all their followers being dead.'

It made sense now why the graves were empty. The god had fused all the physical bodies of his late followers to form his new physical form. It was perhaps his last attempt to earn some sense of recognition as a deity before being forgotten forever, or at least until the beliefs of enough people began to manifest him again. 

Cale flew down next to Rosalyn and Choi Han immediately followed to listen to their orders. Cale looked at the vegetation by his feet and he pitied them, to know that the god these people have loved dearly was able to do this, to disrupt the peace of dead people and desecrate their resting place, without feeling an ounce of hesitancy for their selfish reason. This god did not deserve worship.

"Your orders?" Rosalyn asked, beads of sweat falling down her temple as she panted.

"Destroy the island," Cale said with a frown. "We'll be wasting our time if we only work on killing that god physically. Leave nothing behind. That god could move because this island preserved their images. A god is no good when they have nothing."

"Raon," Cale turned to the Black Dragon. "Relay my words to Her Highness Withira: We plan to destroy this island for good. We need the Whale tribe to make sure every piece sinks or destroyed."

Without many words other than an affirmative "I got it", Raon took off to search for Withira. Cale turned to Choi Han and Rosalyn, placing his hands on their shoulders. "Our job is to separate [Name] from that god. Choi Han, you will be our offense. Miss Rosalyn, our defense."

"Yes!" Both nodded, determined frowns on their faces.

Cale offered his hand to Rosalyn and Rosalyn grinned, jumping into Cale's arms before wind gathered around his feet and they flew off while Choi Han easily scaled the god's form, heading towards where you were. Cale stepped next to where you were laying and set Rosalyn down. The god began to let out a deafening scream, pausing on moving around and the branches began to thrash as if disgusted and angry they were on top of him.

"Han!" Cale yelled and Choi Han brought his sword to immediately slice the vines that were connected to your heart. Upon being broken off from you, the god's form suddenly began to morph and formed hands to grab at their ankles.

Choi Han cut down the hands and grabbed Rosalyn before jumping off from the god meanwhile Cale grabbed you, hugging you close to him before he mustered all his energy to summon the wind to his feet, and Choi Han led themselves back to where Ron was waiting.

Ron didn't wait for Cale to step onto the boat. He extended his arms out to hold your warm body, his breath shaky as he finally had you in his arms. There was a moment where he simply held you, his head tilted to lean to yours. For the first time in his life full of blood and violence, Ron uttered a prayer of relief that no blood was shed.

Thank God.

Ron let his lips curl down into a small smile, setting you down gently on the floorboards before he took off his coat and handing it to Beacrox to fold so Ron could check on your vitals. Beacrox slipped Ron's folded suit jacket under your head, both of them watching the vines connected to your heart shrivel up into what looked like the bones of an arm, a radius and an ulna hanging by while the rest of the hand and fingers must be inside your chest.

Cale assumed it had been one of the corpses' arm that had been morphed into vines.

Once Cale deemed that you were safe, he flew towards where Withira was and watched as the whales around the island began to slam themselves into the floating island, causing the god to scream and begin to have their form thrash all around the island and stab at the whales. 

"MY DAUGHTER!" the god screamed, their voice similar to your father's voice that Cale had heard, confirming his suspicions. 

"GIVE ME BACK MY DAUGHTER!" the god continued to scream, their voice loud enough to disrupt the wind and water similar to what a shock wave does, pushing them all back as thousands of voices began to cry and scream along. It sounded like hell

"Pull back!" Withira screamed out to her people, her hands covering her ears.

'Do you think I can do this without dying?' Cale thought to the Fire of Destruction, dark clouds gathering on top of the floating island while the god was thrashing around. The dark clouds that were gathering were more than usual, menacing and bundled up in thick lumps that seemed closer to reach.

'If you do, it'll be one hell of a story to tell,' the Fire of Destruction says with a small chuckle as Cale takes a deep breath, and blood begins to drip from his nostrils.

"Human?" Raon called, alarmed at the sheer amount of power that seemed to be emanating from Cale's small body.

Rosalyn looked up at Cale in the air before she realized her hair was standing up, red tresses rising into the air as if she was electrocuted. She looked around, seeing that everyone was looking at each other in confusion as they looked at each other's hair.

"We have to get away!" Rosalyn screamed, alarming everyone. "We have to get away or we'll get hit by the lightning!"

Withira looked up at Cale before she turned around, looking back at her men. "Let's go!"

Archie began to swim away, dragging the boat behind him. Raon flew up to where Cale was, seeing that he wasn't only bleeding from his nose but his mouth and ears as well. "Human!"

"Raon," Cale says, his arms slowly extending toward the dark cloud. "You'll have my back, won't you?"

Raon stared at Cale with his big eyes, almost tearing up. His voice shakes when he begins to speak, "Y-Yes, you can count on me! I am the M-Mighty Raon Miru!"

"Good." 

For a moment, the sky was a serene expanse canvas of a bleak gray, filled with Cale's dark thunderclouds. A speckle of red float near the island. Cale looking down towards the life that moves underneath his space and it seemed like everything was in slow motion. He sees Withira, crying out for her whales, Jack swimming away from the island, the life that stood at the boat he pulls, and the plethora of life in the sea that swam around from a safe distance.

The air stilled around him as he exhaled.

The quiet before the storm.

They first saw the hundreds of jagged streaks of rosegold split the sky open, each one a bolt that was a testament to Cale's raw, incandescent Ancient Power. Each bolt struck down and began to dance together in wild, erratic patterns, crisscrossing the firmament continuously, one after another. For a moment it seemed like the sun had approached them, their eyes blinded and burned by them.

A symphony of chaos began almost immediately. Thunderous roars erupt, screams that were so primal tearing through the heavens as if the Earth was begging for mercy. The air became alive and they felt it by the way their skin prickles and their hairs rising. The god below the dancing flashes screamed, seeking help from their daughter, from their fellow divine beings, and was unfortunately turned away the moment his voice drowned between the roars of a mere human's power.

The kittens hid by your shoulders as you lay still on the boat, wanting to protect you despite their fears. It was the first time they saw Cale use an enormous amount of power to this extent and they feared over the fact that they could lose him in exchange for you. Archie positioned his body to rise from the water's surface and let his body be hit by the shock wave, protecting the people on the boat. Ron held you down to the floorboards to make sure you wouldn't slip away.

Cale felt the first raindrop fall before it came heavy and fast, the accumulation of water vapor in his clouds. He coughs up blood, his heart squeezing in his chest and Cale almost feels like falling. He could faintly hear Raon's cries and the way the Dragon was cuddling up to his chest. Cale hugs the small dragon, his eyes nearly closing. Both of them were drenched in the heavy rain.

"Human, stop!" Raon cried out. "T-that's too much!"

Cale's eyes were barely open but he managed to look down, seeing how the island was mostly black, singed off. The smell of rotten corpses reminded him of his previous world. He felt his ear becoming wet. His vision was blurring.

He bit his tongue.

'Cale, stop!' The Fire of Destruction called out, but Cale did not heed the orders of the voices. 

Each raindrop fell, illuminated by the constant flashes of the prettiest rosegold, glistening like diamonds before they hit the waters. His powers sway together in a disorganized ballet, the sky being his canvas to show off his untamed Ancient Power. His powers were the textbook definition of how the power of nature's beauty and destruction could coexist. He was terrifying and mesmerizing.

Soon, as suddenly as it all began, the storm moved on. The lighting fades, the thunder finally retreats, and the sky falls silent once more. Cale's eyes finally closed and he couldn't even slip into a fall because Raon was by his side, holding onto him and immediately teleporting both of them back to the ship, where they all await him.

Withira looked towards the ship, her ears still ringing. She looked back to where the island used to be, seeing only bits of the island floating around along with heaps of rotten corpses. She has never seen Cale's powers to this extent. The memory of those hundreds of flashes of lightning lingers in her head, etched into her mind like a series of vivid, electrifying dreams. 

In the aftermath, the clouds finally scattered and the sky returned to its tranquil blue.

"Check if anything of that beast survives," Withira says to one of her men before she turned back into a human and jumped into the boat to check on everyone. She sees that you and Cale were laid down on the floorboards, Cale's face and his sides drenched in blood. "Are they okay?" 

"She's okay," Ron says softly, checking your vitals once more to make sure he's not hallucinating from adrenaline. He looked at Beacrox who was checking on Cale and Beacrox nodded. "He's fine... Surprisingly."

Rosalyn kneeled beside Ron, holding your hand and lifting it to her lips. She closed her eyes before tears slowly gathered in her eyes as she recalled the harsh life you had to endure, fueled with relief that you're now here and alive. "I'm so glad..."

Choi Han smiled, sitting criss-crossed next to Cale's body as Archie began to swim back towards the continent. Raon curled himself under Cale's arm, closing his eyes and bumping his nose into Cale's palm. For the first time in months, everyone felt lighter. The breeze of the ocean, the sea spraying at them, and the sounds of the whales swimming back have never felt so freeing.

Rosalyn looked down before she let out a soft laugh. "I think... I think this is the first time we have the two of them knocked out like this."

Choi Han looked at her in confusion before he laughed, realizing that she was right. Usually, when Cale was unconscious due to overexerting himself, you'll take over and lead, and vice versa. Now, with both of you unable to lead them, they all feel a bit aimless.

"I'm glad I have my sister back," Rosalyn whispered, sighing as she laid down next to you on the floorboards, holding your hand.

Beacrox let a small smile slip, closing his eyes and finding himself feeling the same as the great Archmage.

You stood in a space, feeling the wind blowing your hair while the image of your father standing a few feet away from you. He looked older than you recalled he was supposed to be. His hair was longer, the wrinkles on his face deeper, and his eyes seemed to reflect the melancholy of someone who had lost everything.

"Why are you here?" You asked him softly, tilting your head. This was supposed to be your memories and you don't recall seeing your father age like this because he had gone missing the day your mother's funeral was held.

"I... don't know," your father mumbled. "I just wanted to see you one more time. Try again."

You stilled once you finally recognized his voice. It finally clicked why the voice sounded so familiar. "You... You're the voice that's been talking to me for months."

"I am," your father confirmed.

"H-How?!" You exclaimed, coming up to him and nearly falling to your knees when you could touch him. "I-I can touch you."

Your father reached for you, his arms wrapped tightly around you. For so long, you have been wandering in some transcendental realm and watching your life play out over and over again as if it were some kind of sickening exposure therapy to all the things that have happened to your life. John had faded a long time ago and you have been alone without being able to feel any warmth at all. This warmth came from someone who had attributed to your suffering, and dear God, it feels so relieving.

"I'm getting weaker," your father murmured. "It's time for me to retire."

You placed your hands on his shoulders, pushing him away to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"You've gained so many people who knows and loves you," he continued, cupping your cheeks before you slapped his hands away. "You're perfect."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" You spat at him, looking at him with wide eyes. 

"You have to continue this for me, [Name]," he continued on, looking at you expectantly. "There are so many memories of people within me. They can't just die with me. They need to go on."

"What are you saying?" You asked him, confused and slightly flabbergasted at his words. Memories? He was dying?

"When I came to this world, I was confused," he began. "Just like you. I don't age and I... I don't know. Those people, they started believing I was something divine."

"You tricked those people," you concluded with your face pale. 

Your father shakes his head. "I did not! They chose me!"

"And now I choose you," he murmured, his hand coming up and he pushed his hand through your chest and you let out a gag, shocked at how he could easily pierce through your chest. To make matters worse, you can physically feel him grasping at your heart and you hated how you could suddenly feel your heart pumping your blood.

You let out a strangled groan, something intangible from your father's hands streaming into your heart. Your heart was beginning a violent drum, each throb was a jolt that physically hurt you, aches that radiated to your ribs and the rhythm made you grimace with every pulse. There is no reprieve, no steady cadence to catch—just relentless, piercing strikes. Your heart was beating like a dancer that steps on broken glass with every step, agony with every breath.

Your world blurs, your sight and hearing fading into a haze of pain. Each pulse of your heart echoes throughout your body like a hammer blow that reverberates into your bones, shaking your core. The only thing that left your lips was the language of endless torment, each beat a cry, and each pause a breathless gasp.

Your heartbeat was a relentless reminder of your mortal state. Pain blossoms with each irregular thump, spreading through the chest like wildfire. You are not born for this divinity. You are not meant for this.

Yet, in this painful symphony, there is a desperate, fierce will—a heart that, despite the pain, refuses to surrender, fighting on with every agonizing beat. 

"You don't have any fucking right--!"

You let out a shrill scream, grabbing at your father's wrinkly face and dug your nails into his skin. He screamed loudly, the sound ringing your ears. You almost gag when your finger dug into his eyeball before you solidified your courage and immediately push your hands further, letting out a pained scream when you could feel his eye sockets, his blood dripping to your hands and going down into your arm. 

He grasped at your heart, squeezing it painfully and your screams echoed through the empty space. You pulled yourself away from him, screaming as you feel each vein and tendon of your heart being ripped from its place, and before you knew it, you lay on your back, a bleeding, gaping hole in your chest where your heart was supposed to be. Without the heart that has been pulsing torment into your body, you could finally breathe properly. 

Your father opens his mouth, his cheeks ripping before he swallows your heart whole into him. He swallowed it down in a painful gulp, seemingly waiting for something and when that something did not come, he looked betrayed. Furious.

Before you could get up, your father pinned you down and his hands clawed at your chest, your skin ripping under his sharp nails and you cried out, feeling your skin ripped layer by layer until your ribs showed. "Bare yourself to me! Give unto me!"

You reached out to his face again, nails digging into his skin and ripping his face, the same way he had ripped your chest open. You dug your fingers into where his eye socket was, making sure your grip was strong and ripped him away as hard as you can off of you. He rolled around like an animal kicked and you used the moment to stand up again.

Without your heart, you feel alive.

You panted, watching his form lunge at you, his eyes crazed. You ducked almost immediately and took a step to the side, grabbing his arm and immediately twisting it with your whole body. Once he was down, you placed your heel into his neck, stomping on it until you could hear a horrifying crack. You keep his neck under your heel as you twist his arm with a force that makes the sky shudder. The pain in his eyes is a mirror of the anguish he had inflicted on you. 

You twist it until you could hear the crack, screaming out as you moved your heel to his shoulder, keeping his shoulder in place while you began to pull at his arm until it was torn off of his shoulder. You threw away the arm, panting as the blood fell onto your face and your eyes, mingling with your sweat and tears. 

The god shook, letting out a pained scream as he held onto his shoulder. He slowly got up, watching you stumble after using most of your energy to tear his arm apart. He watched you, realizing that standing before him was a human that was the epitome of resilience.

You panted, your chest left a bleeding, gaping hole. Your chest was ripped by his nails, raw as your flesh bled and some of the tissues dangled. Some of your ribs showed, your flesh hanging onto it. You looked up at him, your eyes filled with hatred and betrayal.

When he finally approached you, there was something that changed. You did not dance around his claws and blows. You let yourself be maimed. Your nails grasp at whatever you can of him, scratching and tearing at his skin like an animal that had been cornered. Your bodies twist and writhe, a brutal dance of rage and betrayal. Your nails find purchase in his flesh, tearing through the divine facade to the vulnerable core beneath. Each rip is a catharsis, a reclamation of every piece of your spirit that he tried to rob of you. He retaliates, his hands gripping you, rending skin and sinew in a desperate bid to subdue you.

A god cannot subdue you, much less your father.

He was no longer both in your eyes.

You could feel it. His powers wane with every shuddering breath, every wound you inflict. Pain and spite fuel you -- fuck love, fuck faith, and fuck these fucking gods. Each slash of your nails is a declaration that you will no longer be bound to the past, to what doesn't matter, to these fucking people.

You finally toppled on top of him, your nails brutally digging into his chest. His screams of torment did not deter your goal. In fact, it is the symphony of your triumph. You ripped every layer of his flesh and once you felt his ribs, you grabbed one after another and broke it with brute strength. His beating heart lay bare before you and you grinned.

"H-hell..." He muttered, laying helplessly there as you grasped at his heart. "T-this is hell..."

You stayed quiet, tearing his chest open with one hand and the other ripping his heart out.

You sat on top of the corpse of the man you knew once as your father, holding his heart in your hands.

Your nails dug into it and once you tore it open, you found a single dianthus flower, withered and its petals bathed in blood.

[yandere-sins]

the whole feral scary naga thing is good👀 but do you know of a legend when a white snake was about to be killed but someone saved them, in return they became the snake’s bride? the delusional naga not only making things worst for the reader by forcing them to be their mate, but now the village has no choice but to sacrifice y/n if they dont want to starve to death (nagas in some cultures are higly respected and are important for livelihood and crops)

Oh my gosh... This is perfect... (I have heard of the legend but haven't researched it but even so it's perfect >:3)

You pet dogs and pspsps at cats when you see them, smile at the cows, and oink alongside pigs. All that and more, but you're not necessarily involved with animals as much as other people in your village. You like animals, and you tolerate them around you, but the thing that actually gets you excited is plants. No wonder you became the town's doctor as one of the few people who can differentiate between poisonous berries and digestible flowers. You are an integral part of the community. Nothing could threaten your position as a respected member and being needed by everyone.

Nothing but the damn naga you stumbled upon one day.

There were stories of these creatures, as with every belief, there are countless creatures to know of in your culture. You heard them, acknowledged them, but didn't actually believe in them. Most stories are scars for children anyway, and half-human, half-snake? Sounds impossible for you as a doctor.

For years you roamed the forests for plants for your medicine and studies. Years of never meeting anything scarier than a wild cat or a completely normal but still somewhat scary big snake. Years of walking in and out of the forest unscathed and unharmed. But you are immediately alerted when a human voice calls out to you from a pitfall. You don't recognize the voice from your village, but as a doctor, it's your duty to help.

You do everything you can, from telling them that you're there for them and will get them out of the trap and patch them up once they're out, to cutting vines to make a rope and throw it down into the dark. The possibilities of what could be down there don't unsettle you. All you see is your mission to help. When you tell them to try climbing your makeshift rope, you still expect a human to appear from the very deep, very large pitfall. Oh, how wrong you are.

Because while at first, you see the right things like hands, shoulders, a head, and hair, nothing from the waist down is normal about the suspected human clawing its way out of the trap. But it's too late now to cut the vines as its tail slowly drags itself out of the hole, the proportions becoming uncanny on a body much too big for a human and the tail much too white and standing out to be of a snake.

The real horror, though, is when you meet the creature's eyes, slits for pupils that fixate on you, dilating and narrowing as it musters its savior, its nose sniffing the air while you feel like you're going to throw up as you notice the claws, scales, fangs. The unnaturalness of this monster in front of you.

You made a mistake. A big one. The pitfall was not a dangerous creation for a human by a human. It was a last effort to save humans and keep a monster locked away in a prison it couldn't escape. You released it—enthusiastically even. The desperation you feel, knowing you might have doomed your village, is immeasurable. You can already hear their screams echoing in your ears as they are torn limb from limb by this monster, all while you'll probably die first, unable to help them as they call for you to heal them.

Both of you are staring at each other for what feels like a breathless eternity until the creature slithers—slithers!—towards you, its claws reaching out while you close your eyes, unable to watch it go for the kill. Its arms wrap around your body, and you gasp as it buries its face in the space between your neck and shoulder, your heartbeat racing as you listen to it sniff loudly, deeply inhaling and exhaling through its mouth. A mix of a purr and growl reaches your ears, vibrating in its chest and making you shiver in its grasp as the creature declares you as "Mate" before picking you up, feet dangling so far from the ground you might break a leg if you fall.

Luckily, that's not the creature's intention, and it seems delighted by you clawing at its shoulders, trying to hold on to it out of fear as it begins to carry you away. It's then that you realize that no way can you let it take you somewhere deeper into the forest. You are needed in your village! You are important! Too good to be eaten somewhere even your bones cannot be found anymore! It's a little scary, but as the creature has to lower itself to slip under tree branches and the like, you take the risk, kicking its stomach when it least expects it to create enough distance between arm and body to slip out.

You never ran as fast and breathless in your life as you did with the naga right behind you, crashing into tree trunks and hissing and growling, its claws always dangerously close to your body. You knew the forest well, but the only thing this monster seemed to care about was getting to you. It was foolish to lead it back to your village, but maybe... maybe! The warriors were skilled! The elders might know where to hit its weak spots! There was at least some hope that you could escape it!

The naga only caught up to you when you stumbled into the open clearing where your village was settled. Gasps and screams echoed around you while your face slammed into the ground involuntarily as you two collided, your body collapsing from the run. You heard the calls for the warriors, the terrified screams of the women and children, but all of a sudden, everything becomes very nauseatingly quiet.

Even with the hand of the naga pressing you down into the ground, keeping you from running from it anymore, you somehow manage to look up. What you see is almost more terrifying than all the possible scenarios you could have imagined. Everyone—the warriors, women, children, elders—knelt on the ground before you, bowing their heads, foreheads touching the dirty ground while you heard the unsettling sounds of the creature behind you, hissing and thumping its tail.

"My mate!" it declares loudly, possessively, and the people shudder in reverent fear. Finally, the oldest member of the tribe lifts their head, nodding before answering, "All yours. We will not interfere."

Their eyes fall on you, their lips silently mouthing, "I'm sorry."

You are once again picked up, settled tightly against the naga's chest, enveloped like an inconsolable child in its arms before it turns. You have to watch the villagers slowly rise to their feet as the creature spares their life with your sacrifice. The eldest shakes their head, turning to a warrior before asking how the naga could possibly escape. "I don't know," sighs the warrior. "But that's one more doctor lost to these creatures. And we tried so hard to keep this one."

"Better them than us," the eldest comforts him, patting the warrior's shoulder. "We knew the trap wouldn't be able to keep the naga from what they want forever."

Tears brimming your eyes, you meet the disappointed gazes of the village you thought you were so important to. People who gave you away in a heartbeat to appease some monster, and the bitterness overwhelms you as you realize they knew it was coming. Coming for you of all people, never telling you to leave the village and run for your life. Instead, they used you for as long as they could.

Until you rescued your own death sentence.