#the muscled AND metaled variety

[bird-inacage]

Are you KIDDING me??? Kant and Bison have no right being such cute ass boyfriends. The rom-com feels are hitting hard.

Kant looks so fond. Bison looks so twee. Ugh, this combo be killin' me.

Note: Ohhh I've finally realised that the things around Bison's neck are arcade ticket stubs. BLESS. Their dates look SO WHOLESOME.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

In The Minotaur's Maze

Male Minotaur Yandere x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Violently painful noncon, mild bleeding from sex, size difference, belly bulge from massively huge dick, mild mention of musk, stalking, kidnapping, general yandere behavior) Word Count: 980 (Tried to make a drabble, failed again with a mini-fic instead. Oops. This is one of my very few works, so far, that is technically fanfiction as Asterion is the canon name of the Minotaur in Greek mythology.)

You were a talented explorer seeking ancient relics for fame and fortune.

You used a combination of minor magic to speak to the dead and serious investigation to discern the location of the fabled Minotaur labyrinth.

It was deep within an enchanted cave system that in many ways served as an extension of the maze hidden away within.

You carefully navigated the treacherous caves until you came upon the secret entrance. You placed your hand in the middle of a smooth wall and uttered the magic incantation.

The wall dissolved in a flash of light, and you stepped through the entrance as the stone reformed behind you. This was it. You were in the maze proper. What secrets lie ahead?

Of course, you knew the legends of Asterion the Minotaur, but he had been slain in them. And nothing could live so long anyway, especially without food.

You navigated the stone corridors easily. Despite their age, they still looked brand new. As you continued on, you occasionally heard what sounded like hooves plodding along behind you.

You pushed it from your mind. Your imagination was playing tricks.

As you stepped around a corner, you came to a wooden door and opened it. When you stepped through, gone were the twisting stone paths filled with the scent of earth.

Instead, there was an ancient style dwelling overlooking some farmland growing a variety of trees, bushes, and vines.

The door you had come through was still behind you, you closed it and from this side it looked like a door to a shed. So the labyrinth had pocket dimensions… You had heard about them in passing. You wondered how large it was. The realm may look like an idyllic farm on earth, but if you went far enough away, you'd surely hit an invisible wall.

Perhaps the door to the house would lead further into the dungeon.

As you got closer, you realized how large it was. When you pushed the big door open, it actually was a house. Albeit with furniture that was made for someone very large.

Suddenly, you felt a hot breath at your neck. You turned to find the very large, naked Minotaur staring down at you. He was a hairy wall of muscle. One with the head of a bull, complete with metal tipped horns. His legs were covered in dark fur and ended in large hooves, and his full nutsack dangled beneath a frighteningly large prick.

Before you could react, the Minotaur grabbed you and pulled off all your clothing.

You had no idea how Asterion could have survived all this time. He had been killed!

But apparently, he hadn't gotten the memo.

In the past, he had consumed most humans that wandered into his labyrinthine prison, but you were bravely entering his home, his nest.

You weren't cowering like the old sacrifices. Well, you weren't before he grabbed you anyway.

That, combined with him being in rut and driven insane by thousands of years of isolation, made him not consider you as a meal for even a moment. You were firmly in the mate category in his brain.

So small and cute.

You writhed and fought to get out of his grasp but he ignored your greatest efforts as if they were nothing.

Asterion licked at your face as you pleaded with him to let you go.

He couldn't understand your language but he could guess at their meaning.

But he had no intention of ever letting this new mate of his go.

He tossed you down on the bed and you now saw what he intended to do.

His hard cock now at full arousal, as large and thick as a man's arm.

"No no no! Pleasepleasenono!!!" Your words blended together in a garbled panic as his musk hit your nose, sharp and dominating.

The only preparation your entrance received was a few gobs of slimy Minotaur saliva before he slammed inside you.

You shrieked.

It felt as though your entrance was on fire. As if it was being ripped apart.

With every thrust you shuddered in pain and sobbed. Nearly incoherent cries for mercy dribbled from your lips and fell on deaf ears.

You felt so warm and tight around him. This was just what he needed. Surely you had been sent to Asterion in his time of need by the gods. They finally, after eons, granted him mercy in the form of your insides.

So pliant to his girthy cock. Every time he dove back into you the outline could be seen in your stomach.

Tears streamed down your face as you silently wept, no longer able to scream or even babble your silly little pleas for it to stop.

Asterion wished he could tell you how well you were doing. That you were such a good cow for him. That you fit his cock so perfectly.

But he couldn't, so instead settled for licking and nibbling at your neck before wiping your tears away with his broad tongue.

With a final thrust he filled your belly visibly cum.

When he pulled out a torrent of his seed rushed down your thighs, it had noticeable streaks of pink from bleeding. You were such a fragile little thing compared to him.

He hadn't been able to hold back since that was the first time he had ever sought release inside of someone before, but he made note to be more careful.

Even though the breeding had stopped you were helpless. Broken. At least for the moment. You still cried silently, feeling utterly invaded and defiled.

Asterion took the time to lick you completely clean before laying down beside you and holding you close, spooning you with his mighty arm as you shook beneath it.

You came here to explore the deepest reaches of the maze... but had your deepest reaches explored instead...

[rapturously]

Dwayne or David facesitting. Period. Like, vampires don't need to breathe! Hell, let em stay down there for hours. Also, am I too gross or crazy to think about having fun during that time of the month? 🩸

blood moon.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. | dwayne (the lost boys) x fem!reader

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓. | drabble — requested.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. | 3.7K.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. | SMUT (mdni), dubious consent (mild coercion) cunnilingus, oral sex (f!receiving), reader is on their period, bloodplay (lots of it, he’s a vampire), facesitting, biting, hair-pulling, pet names (mama, girl, sweet girl), dwayne is hungry and he’s nasty, kissing, vampire antics, possessive dwayne, Dwayne is a little selfish in this

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. | wow ,,, a fic three days in a row ??? you can tell I’m hyperfixated because I’ll produce a ton of content very rapidly. Also, I love dwayne so much, he’s my daddy. ALSO — please keep sending me horny requests for the lost boys, I’m being fed !!! also, hello to all of my new followers & tlb fellows :)) love y’all and hope you enjoy!

A blood moon — it was a humorous term that your mother used to use for your menstrual cycle, something that you’d grown to despise with every fiber of your being. It was another unfortunate shackle of humanity, a reminder that you were still flesh and blood. Whenever your time of the month came about, you were always tempted to beg David for a sip of that forbidden wine.

The oppressive heat of the cavernous labyrinth that the boys dwelled within had felt somewhat comforting to you as you curled up on Dwayne’s makeshift bed, form contorted into the fetal position. A slow, agonizing pain spread throughout your lower abdomen, making your muscles feel weak and useless.

Sunset was just upon the horizon as you struggled to endure the suffering that you were forced into with each passing month. The mattress felt cool and smooth underneath your cheek, having abandoned the scattered pillows in favor of awaiting your demise. You wanted to sob, biting at the inside of your cheek, teeth scraping against flesh as your fists balled into the blanket.

Everything hurt — what began as a dull ache soon manifested into a pain that gripped your entire body. Your back was sore, head throbbing, and your insides felt as if they were being stirred around by the hand of another. You clenched your teeth, not wanting to move from your spot, anchored to your slice of space.

Once dusk fell, the vampires you’d been living with came to life, no longer hanging from the rafters of some dark, damp alcove. You could heat Marko and Paul’s guffaws and laughter, accompanied by David’s stern, tempered remarks. It all served as idle background noise, prompting you to close your eyes.

The noise dissipated — it was too quick for your liking. Silence settled in, save for the faint rustling of ambience within the cave, combined with something rattling around out in the remnants of the old lobby.

As much as you didn’t want to move, you sluggishly rolled out of bed, discomforted by the sensation of sloshing liquid rushing between your legs. It was the worst part of your cycle — the unpleasant sensations, the feeling of being wholly unclean. You draped a blanket around you, hobbling from Dwayne’s roost.

Strong, veined hands were buried within the grease-laden guts of a motorcycle, dismantling a variety of components. The vehicle was partially dismantled, stripped down to the metal underbelly. Dwayne’s dark tresses were disheveled from slumber, parts of scrap scattered around him. An elongated, metal screw was lodged between his teeth as he concentrated on his work.

He could smell you long before you’d crept into the lobby, but he hadn’t expected to see you in such a downtrodden state. Dwayne was often respectful of your space, especially during your cycle. It wasn’t something he would ever endure, but watching you writhe and suffer wasn’t entirely enjoyable, either.

“Dwayne?” You croaked, awkwardly shuffling across outcroppings of debris and dirt, draped in your shoddy sheet as you spotted your boyfriend. There was something beautiful about him, particularly when he practiced his hobby of playing mechanic. Specks of black oil lined his forearms and fingertips.

Without missing a beat, Dwayne turned to look at you, hazel hues drinking you in with reverence and concern. Dark brows furrowed together as he abandoned his current project, grabbing at the tattered, red cloth that rode around within his back pocket. “Hey,” That familiar baritone held a subtle warmth to it. “What’s wrong, Mama?”

You knew that he knew, but he still asked you nonetheless. As he swiped away at the oil and pungent grease, Dwayne stepped closer toward you, stooping down to press a kiss against the top of your head. You smelled wonderful, natural sweetness intermingled with that of your menses.

“Everything,” You exhaled, shuddering when his large palm splayed out across your back, rubbing soothing circles into your sore flesh. “Where are the others?” Admittedly, it was a bit unusual to see Dwayne alone without the company of the pack.

“Hunting,” Dwayne confirmed, and without hesitation, he hooked a strong, taut arm underneath your legs, hoisting you up as he carried you like a blushing bride. Cradling you against his chiseled chest, he made sure you were back in bed, where you belonged. “I was worried about you.” He confessed, laying you back against the mattress.

His throat was burning — a fire so intense that he wanted to scream, but Dwayne was rather talented at smothering his hunger for the good of another. His thirst would be extinguished soon enough, whenever he could leave the cave to find unsuspecting tourists. He sat down along the edge of the bed, hand massaging into your thigh.

Guilt rippled through you, knowing that Dwayne had abandoned the hunt to tend to you, this fragile human. His brows furrowed together — he must’ve been reading your thoughts. “I’m sorry. You should go feed.” You encouraged him, despite keening into the comforting chill of his hand.

Dwayne’s mind had gone elsewhere — there was a way that he could feed without having to abandon you. Of course, it was purely self-gratifying and your best interests were secondary to his starvation, which crawled across his stomach, burning a hole through him. He kept quiet, gingerly massaging your leg with his hand, which drifted towards the swell of your hips.

He didn’t like seeing you this way, agonized and letting yourself sit in the suffering. “If there was something that I could do to help, would you let me?” Dwayne asked, gazing down at you with an incendiary look. It was distinct, reminding you of the plethora of times he’d seduced you. Your stomach lurched, insides feeling as if they were withering away.

Your expression was somewhat quizzical, lips parting slightly as you reached for his arm. He was so much bigger than you — the strongest of the pack, urging you closer until his fingers could sweep away the hair framing your visage. That thick, coppery swarm of blood invaded his nostrils, singing his throat yet again.

“What do you have in-mind?” You asked, somewhat hesitant as he caged you in between his arms, bending down to press a hungry kiss to your lips. Sex was the furthest thing on your mind, but you relented, moaning into his mouth as you reached for his dark tresses.

Dwayne was a phenomenal kisser — passionate and slow, as if he were savoring every second of it. Though, he had a tendency to let it whirlwind into something ravenous and primal, fitting for the quiet, stoic vampire. He exhaled, kissing you with a thinly-veiled desire, hand moving to cup your jaw.

“Could take the pain away.” He uttered, withdrawing from your lips with an indiscernible expression. Dwayne was always difficult to read — endlessly complex, an enigma that you wanted to unravel. His mystique was always present, but you knew him better than most.

To you, it was an act of generosity — you were gullible, naive to Dwayne’s true intentions of feeding from you whilst making the ache fade away. Your heart fluttered within your chest, causing you to wet your lower lip. Dwayne’s thumb rubbed along your jawline.

“How?” With a soft gulp, you swallowed the growing lump within your throat, feeling his lips graze your jugular. His natural musk was enticing, often intermingled with the twang of stale copper and machinery oil. Dwayne shrugged his jacket off, bulky musculature engulfing you.

His shadow eclipsed any sliver of torchlight as he bathed you in darkness, gaze dusky as he gave you another deliberate kiss. Dwayne was silent, adjusting himself until he knelt at the foot of the bed, partially on top of you. His hand pushed against the inside of your knee, and that’s when you stopped him.

“N—No,” Your protest was weak, embarrassment rippling through your voice. There was something that felt inherently dirty to you, if Dwayne intended to follow through on whatever it was he planned on doing. “Dwayne, I don’t think it’s a good idea.” A shrewdness crept into your tone.

He read your mind — you thought he wanted sex. If you weren’t in so much pain, he would’ve been fucking you within an inch of your life by now. Dwayne’s chest rumbled with a brief chuckle, lips curling into a faint smile, pearlescent teeth glimmering against his caramel skin and stubble-coated visage. “Not like that,” He exhaled. “Something else. Help us both.” He murmured, stroking along your leg.

So that’s what he wanted.

Admittedly, you were a little nervous about the idea. He’d never insisted on feeding from you before, and certainly not in this manner. It sounded so crude and messy in your head. He’d bitten you, but never enough to cause any lasting harm. “I don’t know.” You mumbled, feeling another sharp, dagger-like jolt course through the pit of your stomach.

“It’ll make the pain go away,” Dwayne was gorgeous — like a chiseled god, crouched between your legs as he sought your consent. Of course, it was somewhat swayed through consistent persuasion, but there was something mutually beneficial to be found in this. “Let me.” His voice dropped to a husked octave, dripping with something amorous.

You were still hesitant, heart beating like a fluttering of a hummingbird, swift and constant, pounding just above your breast. Goosebumps coalesced along the length of your spine, crawling across your flesh like a tidal wave as he pressed a series of kisses against the inside of your thigh, face dangerously close to swarming forward.

“Okay, just — Just go slow.” Molten heat sloshed within your belly as Dwayne stalked forward, musculature parting your legs. He was so broad and strong, smooth underneath your fingertips as they brushed against his taut, veined forearms. He bracketed you in, arms like a cage as he kept you close.

Dwayne felt that blistering itch within his throat, the urge to feed, to savor the sanguine heat between your legs. He had no intention of being slow. Once the feeding commenced, it was difficult to stop. “‘Course, girl.” He nodded, dark eyes glued to your features as he flattened down against the mattress.

Sinewy hands curled into the waistband of your panties, slipping beneath the shirt you wore, one that didn’t happen to be covered in age-old blood. You were flustered, beginning to squirm as Dwayne peeled it all aside, menstrual pad included.

He rucked your shirt up, propped up on his elbows as his palms gripped at your hips so hard that it was sure to leave bruises. That smell of blood hit him immediately, scorching his throat and insides until it was all ash and dust. Dwayne was silent, broad tongue parting past until it drew along the length of your cunt.

Blood wept from your core, which felt uncomfortable for you, initially. You huffed, nearly sinking down into the mattress in a heap as Dwayne began to openly lap at your slit, drinking you in as if you were the most delicious thing he’d tasted. Your cunt clenched, nerves set ablaze as his nose bumped against your clit.

You tasted saccharine — coppery and vitriolic, but it was his sort of feast. Dwayne let out a grunt, lapping at the blood that oozed from your cunt, letting it linger upon his lips, invading his senses. Once he heard your sweet moans from above, he tugged you forward, a growl ripping through his chest.

Those aches and pains were sluggishly beginning to ebb away, soothed by the vampire who drank from between your thighs. It wasn’t as much as he wanted, but it was enough, tongue raking hot embers across your cunt as the pleasure unfurled within your stomach.

“Dwayne,” A blissful sigh escaped you, back beginning to arch off of the bed and toward his mouth. Your fingers clamored to hold on, finding their purchase amongst his tousled mane of jet-black hair. He’d eaten you out before, but not like this. There was the added element of blood involved. “D—Dwayne, don’t stop.” You whimpered.

Within the dim light of the alcove, those orange flickers of light from the small array of candles made his skin look like velvet. Those dark eyes never left you, pinning you in-place as he drank freely from your cunt. Your menses stained his mouth with red, tongue occasionally drifting from your entrance to your clit.

A burnished, golden sheen glistened within his eyes, hunger somewhat dissipating. He wasn’t satisfied nor satiated, intending to drink his fill — as for you, he suspected you’d have to endure his constant lapping and sucking until you were nothing more than a sobbing mess.

Your poor legs were quivering, wobbling on either side of his face as he steadied you, hands clamping down to keep you still. He idly massaged into the pliant flesh of your thighs, tongue assaulting your cunt with a viciousness to it. Crimson dribbled down his chin, but your flow was beginning to taper off from your prone state.

A myriad of throaty, wanton mewls escaped you, toes curling in delight as he gingerly suckled at your clit. The sensation was temporary, fleeting as his attention drifted elsewhere, tongue lapping at another slow-trickling rivulet of blood. Dwayne hummed, deep and gravelly, stubble tickling the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs.

It was only when he withdrew that you were babbling and stammering, wanting to know why he’d suddenly stopped. “W—Wait,” You whimpered, pitiful as ever, cunt aching something awful as he licked at his lips. Seeing Dwayne’s mouth and chin drenched in a darker shade of scarlet made you feel hot, heat creeping through your belly. “Please.”

His hearty chuckle made you irritated, but it was short-lived. You watched as Dwayne settled himself onto the mattress beside you, hues a vibrant gold, his countenance stained in your menstrual gore. “I’m not finished, pretty girl. Still hungry.” He reassured you, and plucked you up with two strong hands.

You were eternally grateful for Dwayne in that moment, who placed you on his chest. Without missing a beat, he bumped you forward, and you were gazing down at Santa Carla’s most stoic, vicious predator. An endless hunger danced within his eyes, soon to be quelled by the delicious blood that pooled between your legs.

Dwayne could tell that you weren’t expecting this, and it certainly made it all the more enticing for him. You were so smitten, his sweet little human. He’d fantasized about having you sit on his face until you were nearly unconscious, but this was all the more sweeter. Embarrassment flooded through you, but Dwayne seemed entirely unphased.

Initially, you were scared of hurting him, a notion that Dwayne found to be a little too innocuous. He could hear your heartbeat pounding away beneath your collarbone, thrumming like the beat of a drum as he lowered you back onto his mouth.

Your knees pressed into the mattress on either side of his head, dark tresses splayed out like a halo. With this newfound angle, you were staring at Dwayne — or more like, he was gazing at you. His tongue quickly invaded your throbbing cunt, blood catching on his lips. It was messier this time, making you tremble beneath his hold.

A liquid heat coursed throughout your body, pooling heavy within your stomach. Cruor oozed from your throbbing cunt, and now that you weren’t lying on your back, Dwayne was getting another taste. He continued to dutifully lap at your slit, ensuring that he didn’t miss a single drop of blood.

It sat thick and heavy upon his tongue, beginning to bring some semblance of relief to that raging fire that scorched within his throat. His pain was relinquished, and so was yours — a mutual exchange. Even then, he wanted more, digits digging into your haunches as he flicked his tongue over your clit again and again.

There was something disgustingly entrancing about the way he greedily lapped at your core, face buried deep within your cunt, hungry for your menses. If he wasn’t a creature of the night, you might’ve been somewhat indifferent to all of this, but he was bringing you such a wave of relief.

You wiggled your hips, accidentally grinding yourself onto his face, and Dwayne indulged you. As he lapped at another stream of crimson ichor, you moaned, chest heaving with heavy pants and wanton mewls, hands perched along the rickety, half-torn headboard.

“S—Shit,” You exhaled, tears stinging your eyes as you began to make that steady climb toward your climax. Dwayne didn’t stop, never relenting or slowing any movement as he lapped at your cunt, broad tongue swiping over every inch of your slit. The pleasure began to outweigh any pain you felt, muscles spasming. “Dwayne!” A whine left you, head rolling forward.

A deep, guttural growl emanated from Dwayne as it rumbled throughout his wide chest. It was mesmerizing to watch him from above, your hands splaying themselves along his bronze shoulders. His mouth drifted toward your inner thigh, and he looked to you, seeking approval before he bit you.

With a messy, lazy nod, your cunt throbbed and pulsated with molten heat, causing your nails to dig into Dwayne’s skin, hard enough to leave behind crescent-shaped imprints. Golden, crimson-ringed irises flashed in your direction as his countenance contorted into something inhuman, monstrously beautiful in your eyes.

Pearlescent fangs and pretty teeth sought out the pliant, soft flesh of your inner thigh, and he bit down — hard. It left behind the angry-red marks of unusual teeth as ringlets of a sanguine color trickled down your leg. Dwayne licked his lips, appraising you with an incendiary stare as he hastily collected every scrap of your lifeblood.

“M’close,” You whimpered, shuddering when he pressed a kiss atop the freshly-formed bite. His face promptly nestled back to the cleft between your legs, drawing another stream of your menses into his mouth before seeking your clit. “Close.” You said again, breathless and drunk with desire.

Dwayne felt his cock twitch within his jeans, able to smell your arousal through the haze of blood. The siren’s song of cruor was far more powerful, but even then, he could savor both with a feeling of sheer delight. His hunger steadily dwindled, fed by your saccharine cycle — if only you were like this all the time.

His lips formed a tight seal as he began to suck, causing you to nearly double over. “Don’t stop, Dwayne,” Perspiration began to break out along your body, coalescing along the length of your spine, dewy beneath the shirt you wore. “Please, please.” You were desperate, wanting to feel that white-hot explosion of a release.

Exhaustion settled in, your energy having been expended by keeping yourself aloft atop his face. Your cunt tasted sweeter than anything he’d had before in his centuries of existence. Dwayne considered you to be his fountain — a very captivating fountain. His touch screamed with amorousness as he rocked you into his tongue.

At last, your body began to quiver, muscles twitching and spasmodic as you climbed toward your orgasm. Dwayne could feel your weight fall a little heavier atop him, and he happily supported you, so long as you were bleeding. He added that edge of teeth, letting them graze over your clit with a feather-light pressure.

It sent you careening over the edge, cumming onto his mouth with enough mewls and moans to last him for days. It echoed throughout the alcove, and you were on the verge of sobbing, having gained some sliver of relief in the end.

Dwayne lapped at your cunt through it all, consumed by the shadow of greed and possessiveness. He could hear the rest of the boys clamoring throughout the cavern, which soured his mood just a little. They had a poor habit of acting up whenever you were enduring your menstrual cycle — understandable, of course, but an annoyance for Dwayne.

With a grunt, he gently nudged you back onto the taut, musculed expanse of his chest. His mesomorphic stature felt so solid underneath your pliant body, and your hands brazenly felt along his sternum. There was no heartbeat, forever frozen by immortality. His countenance was one of sheer satisfaction, lips and chin smattered in your blood as he licked at his mouth.

“Feel better, don’t you?” Dwayne mused, unable to withhold that little twinge of amusement in his voice. His large hand rubbed and massaged along your thigh, drifting up towards your hips, and then back down again on a continuous loop.

You nodded, feeling all warm when his body shook with a brief tremor of laughter. Dwayne sat up just a little bit, palm grasping at the back of your neck as he brought you forward for a very intimate kiss. A startled gasp tore through your throat, but he held you there, letting you taste yourself — ichor and all.

“Thank you.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as your entire physique hummed and buzzed with satisfaction. Of course, the ache of your cycle never fully dissipated, but Dwayne had certainly done his part in quelling the pain, for now.

Dwayne gingerly patted the swell of your ass, copping a feel in the process before pressing another string of kisses against your neck. He grabbed at the hem of your shirt, rucking it up a-ways. He was quiet, and you were fine with that, eyes widening as he wiped his mouth off with the remnants of your nightshirt.

Jesus — you knew better than to tempt fate, arousal stinging at your core again. You huffed, taking a moment to compose yourself as you attempted to reach for your panties. He intercepted you, snatching your wrist before your fingertips could even reach the lace trim.

“Not tonight, girl,” Dwayne uttered, placing you right beside him, bulky arm curling around your frame. He made you feel so safe — a glaring juxtaposition to his ravenous hunger and vampiric state.

You felt a pair of fangs tauntingly scrape over your jugular, able to feel the chill of his bare chest nudging into your back. “Might get hungry later.” He rumbled, pressing a chaste kiss against the back of your shoulder.

[xensilverquill]

Amigurumi/Crochet Toy 101 + Resources

Noticed a couple folks in my tags mentioning that they wanted to learn or wished they knew how to crochet amigurumi. So here's a quick and dirty little how-to guide with resources I threw together? Hope it helps!

Tools + Materials

Crochet is one of those hobbies that is actually relatively cheap to get into. Here is a basic list of what you'll need to get started. You can find most of these at any craft store or even Walmart.

(1) Yarn (Required)

Yarns come in a variety of weights (sizes) and fibers. I recommend a soft, worsted weight acrylic yarn (indicated by a number "4" and "medium" on the yarn label) for your first few projects.  

Image

(2) Crochet Hook (Required)

These come in a lot of sizes and styles, and what size you'll use will depend on your yarn weight and how tight you want your stitches to be. I'd recommend buying just one hook to start with rather than a larger set. Metal hooks with ergonomic rubber handles are easiest for beginners (and on your wrists longterm, lol). A 5.0 MM/Size H or a 4.50 MM/Size G works best for making amigurumi with worsted weight yarn.

(3) Polyfil/Stuffing (Required)

For stuffing your project.

(4) Yarn Needle (Required)

Most crochet projects require sewing to one degree or another. Yarn needles are distinguished from regular sewing needles by their larger size, larger eye, and blunter tip. Yarn needles may be straight, or they may be angled at the tip (i.e. a darning yarn needle).

(5) Scissors (Required)

Any sharp, medium-sized pair of scissors will do for cutting your yarn.

(6) Sewing Pins (Recommended)

For holding parts in place as you sew them on.

(7) Stitch Marker (Recommended)

Many amigurumi projects are worked in rows of continuous rounds, and stitch markers can be used to mark the beginning or end of these rounds. They can also be used to mark areas of interest in your project or to secure your project to keep it from becoming accidentally unraveled. I strongly reccomend getting split ring ones. Scrap pieces of yarn also work in a pinch as stitch markers.

(8) Counter (Recommended)

For keeping track of your rows as you work a pattern.

(9) Safety Eyes (Recommended)

Most amigurumi will require eyes of some sort. Safety eyes (you can find these in various sizes in the doll section of any craft store) will give your project a polished look, but you can also use buttons, felt, or even embroider the eye details on your amigurumi.

(10) Stuffing Stick (Recommended)

For getting your stuffing into hard-to-reach spots. A chopstick or wooden skewer works very well for this.

Basic Crochet Stitches + Amigurumi Techniques

Most crochet patterns are built from a few basic stitches. Before attempting any larger project, I recommend getting comfortable with these stitches by making a few small, flat pot holders out of each basic stitch. A lot of crochet is pure muscle memory and practice, and this is a great way to start.

There are also a few techniques specific to making amirugumi that will be helpful for you to know. You can find any number of free videos/tutorials online. Below are links to a few videos that I found helpful when I was learning to crochet.

Image

How to Make a Slip Knot

Single Crochet (+ Starting Chain and How to Count Stitches)

Half Double Crochet

Double Crochet

Triple Crochet

How to Keep Starting Chain from Twisting

Magic Ring

Ultimate Finish

Invisible Finish

Invisible Decrease

Beginner Amigurumi Patterns

These were the first three patterns I learned in the process of teaching myself how to make amigurumi. I recommend working them in the order they are listed. The first two links have step-by-step instructional videos and will help ease you into learning to read amigurumi patterns. All of these patterns are free, and there are many more free patterns out there as well. Have fun!

Amigurumi Ball

Amigurumi Whale

Amigurumi Stegosaurus

[moonbaby26]

Title: Wine

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Pairings: Doflamingo x Fem!Reader, Doflamingo x Crocodile (implied), Doflamingo x Fem!Reader x Crocodile (implied)

Warnings: language, non con, full on cruel Doffy taking out his own insecurities on reader, warlords being pompous assholes, vaginal sex, sex as punishment

Synopsis: Inspired by Day 1 prompt of #Doffytober2024 “Wine”. You were one of the kitchen servants in the royal palace in Dressrosa. Unfortunately you were also alone, responsible for attending to the king’s needs during one of his late night meetings. Doflamingo is more stressed than usual due to who his current guest is, and you end up bearing the brunt of that aggression after a simple mistake.

A/N: I know Doffytober is more a fanart tag, but I can’t draw. Soooo…yeah 😅. I couldn’t call this a Doffy blog without contributing something! Just a quick oneshot.

Fic Masterlist

——————————

You were cursing to yourself. That damn brat Dellinger had slammed into you. And you knew it was on purpose. The wine you’d been balancing within perfectly poured glasses for the young master and his guest was now all down your front. The remains of the bottle along with the rest of it, now shattered and sparkling across the stone floor of the palace corridor as you still heard Dellinger’s deranged giggling fading into the distance.

There was no time to clean this up. So you turned straight back into the kitchen. You were alone in here this late at night. Thankfully at least. Because you’d just have to change quickly. More white uniforms were in the far cabinet.

But you set out new wine glasses first. That now broken bottle out in the hall had been the only year left of the tawny port the king preferred.

Why he even liked it you had no idea. It was far too sweet to your pallet, even as a dessert wine.

Yet you knew exactly which other varieties were still in the racks here, and there was no time to go all the way back down to the palace wine cellar to search further anyway. 

So you grabbed another bottle, this time your preferred choice to end the meal you knew had already been sent upstairs earlier for their business meeting.

With the new wine bottle and glasses set out, you then went to stripping. Your stained shirt was already off. Your soaked pants falling around your ankles next as you had just been stepping out of them when the kitchen door swung wide open.

You gasped, reflexively grabbing the metal serving tray that’d still been nearby. You held it in front of you as if it were a shield.

And if it had been literally anyone else, you likely would have still thrown that tray at them in the moments that came after. But as it was now, you were completely frozen in your surprise. And your fear.

“Young master...” You finally said in a voice that didn’t even sound like your own.

And Doflamingo had been scowling, bad posture and all as he’d first barged through that door. But you saw the way he’d straightened up. The way his scowl faltered in the briefest look of confusion as he took in the sight of you.

“Where the fuck are your clothes?” Came the immediate vulgarity you’d so often heard when he berated you and your fellow workers.

You knew you were nothing more than another insect in the strict social hierarchies he’d furthered during his short time as Dressrosa’s new king.

It felt like he was now scolding a misbehaving animal.

Your only option was to admit fault and submit immediately in hopes the punishment would remain only verbal. He’d listen to no excuses you knew. Especially any that concerned his own shithead crew.

“I spilled the wine, your highness. I was changing and was then going to pour more to deliver to you and your guest.” You were trying to keep your face muscles tight. Trying not to let your lip quiver for as painfully aware as you now were that the meager serving tray was not large enough to cover much of you.

And the air in this kitchen was cold as chill bumps were starting across your bare skin.

But you saw that blood vessel beginning to rise in the king’s forehead. His own lips pulled to the side to reveal more of those perfectly white teeth in his familiar sneer.

“First, you kept us waiting.” He growled out. “I summoned you over ten minutes ago, you little twat.”

And he was starting to walk again, starting to close the gap between the two of you with his long strides as your fingers gripped harder and harder against that tray.

“Second, you spilled the only bottle I had left of that year then? I already saw it in the corridor. So don’t you dare deny it. I should make you lick it off the goddamn floor!”

You felt a wave of nausea go through you. Panic is what it truly was as his large hand had moved so quickly. He’d grabbed that tray. Ripped it right from your arms as it was then thrown with a violent clatter against the far stone wall.

His grip had been hard enough to bend the tray, and the impact enough to chip the stone itself.

But you didn’t avert your eyes from him now. Even as you couldn’t tell exactly where his own glare was focused. 

Was it most on your terrified face as he leaned further in?

Or on your chest barely covered in a tattered old bra you should have thrown out weeks ago? And would have if you’d only had the money to indulge in newer clothes.

Or down to your thighs maybe? Pressed together as if they would hide anything else from him, with only the small strip of fabric that had also been washed and dried to nearly nothing over time. Frayed and distressed, now shielding the last of your decency.

The insanity of feeling this insufficient, humiliated and standing before the king in such poverty highlighting garments was not lost on you. 

But it fit further into his ideas of what you really were didn’t it?

You were just a mongrel to this devil.

Those soulless red lenses of his sunglasses seemed to remind you of this too. As you saw your own pitiable reflection in them while his sneer changed into a smile that was somehow even worse.

Because there was not a trace of mercy in any of it.

He was going to punish you now.

And it would be physical this time.

Doflamingo hissed like an animal even through his false smile.

And in that moment you thought only of a snake with its fangs already out. And the fear of having to watch it strike when nothing could be done to move your body away from him in time.

You screamed, a sound that was fully primal as well as his hands closed briefly like shackles around each of your arms and his body hit against yours.

“Louder.” You heard him grunt when your spine slammed down onto the counter behind you.

He wanted the whole castle to hear you. He wanted them to know. 

Your underwear was torn with a single pull from his hand next. He didn’t even have to use his string to cut it. The weak fabric just ripped as if it were paper in his grip.

“Young master! Please!” But you rather be hit. You rather be cut.

This was too far, even for him. You couldn’t…

“Please what?” The king only laughed right above you.

You could feel the intensity of his body heat. You could smell his rich cologne as he untied his bright colored pants so easily. 

He freed his hardening length without hesitation, not even a flicker of empathy in this man as your tears began and you still refused to look at anything but his face. 

He was smiling back at you too, as his hand fished in an inner pocket of that feather covered coat which remained over his broad shoulders like a cloak.

A little foil covered square came out of that pocket as he brought it to his grinning mouth and bit it quickly to tear it open.

Of course the luxury of a condom meant nothing to you in the horror of this moment.

Yet he spoke again while he lowered his hand to unroll that thin cover over what you now knew was fully ready between his legs.

“You know you don’t deserve this level of attention…do you, little mutt?”

The overwhelming arrogance was dripping from what really should have been a forked tongue by this point. 

Once the condom was on, his rough hands shoved your bra up, pushing it uselessly to your collarbones before he squeezed that soft flesh painfully while he positioned himself at your entrance.

“You’re not even that pretty either.” He added so purposefully too, just for that additional touch of cruelty before you felt the beginnings of that lower pressure.

And you didn’t care about these words, truthfully. He wanted to hurt you however he could now. It was a mental game just as much as it was a physical humiliation.

Your steady tears weren’t yet enough to satisfy him.

But you did gasp as that pressure spiked abruptly. 

He was big. Very big, as you squeezed your wet eyes shut and endured the first of his shameless moans while he pushed his way inside of you.

That and the disgusting sound of the suction your channel soon created around him, slicked at first only with whatever synthetic lubricant that condom had been precoated with.

He began to thrust faster as his hands stroked down your body though. He was feeling everything, touching everywhere despite all his heartless words.

If you really disgusted him so much, that was not shown in the way he couldn’t keep his hands off of you now.

But your eyes were still closed as you tried and failed to fully dissociate from each additional complicated feeling. 

It was only self preservation to attempt and relax, you knew that. You tried not to hate yourself as that first tremble went through your thigh either from how deep he was then moving rhythmically inside of you.

You weren’t resisting him in any way now. 

And he was getting wherever he’d wanted to be all on his own. You could hear his breathing change soon enough. You felt his hands grab onto your hips as he groaned again, that pace still increasing.

But even your fierce will to not look at what carnal crime was now being committed against you had its limits.

Because the added element of an all new male voice was finally enough to make you turn your head as your eyes reopened in a return of fear. 

“Well this is a lovely picture.” 

The words came across with all the warmth of a morgue as the new uninvited also strode their way into the kitchen.

Doflamingo snarled above you, seemingly caught off guard himself even as he did not pull his cock out of you. He actually bottomed out even deeper in response to the interruption. His short fingernails still well sharp enough to hurt as he held your hips against his own in something that nearly felt possessive instead.

Like a predator not wanting to share its current meal.

“Fuck off, reptile. I’ll be back upstairs in a minute.” Doflamingo growled to the other warlord.

“That’s the first true thing you’ve said tonight. Because it does only take you a minute, now doesn’t it?” Sir Crocodile scoffed, only walking closer as you felt him taking in the pathetic scene of your bared body currently pinned beneath your king’s.

Doflamingo sneered defensively again as that smell of cigar smoke encroached in tandem with the other man’s highly judgmental aura.

“I don’t have all night, you whore.” Crocodile’s voice darkened more then as he addressed Doflamingo. “I sail at dawn regardless. So if you want to finish this arms deal, then I suggest you get to compromising. Instead of riding the unwilling help.”

“This brat spilled our wine.” Doflamingo retorted, and for the first time it felt ridiculous to be reminded that this had been your great crime. So childish and nonsensical of a response, especially with him still fully sheathed inside of you like the monster he really was.

But you were only staring at Sir Crocodile by then. Because he was making eye contact with you while Doflamingo just complained.

Crocodile was looking at you as if you were actually a human in that moment.

“Good. Because your taste in drink is shit. I got tired of waiting and came down here to pick my own anyway.” Crocodile responded in irritation regardless, then noticing the other bottles still in the nearby wine racks.

“Fuck you.” Doflamingo spat, beginning to move his hips against you again only when the other had turned back away. But the Heavenly Demon’s wary attention clearly remained on the other pirate even as his cock continued to pound into you.

“Keep wishing.” Crocodile’s true disrespect of the other was palpable too, while his hand grabbed one wine bottle after another by the neck, turning them to read the labels.

And the way this retort clearly got beneath the king’s skin was of no help to you of course. Doflamingo only thrusted more erratically in his growing frustration, hurting you more.

His aroused panting had stopped too. His self-pleasure within you had been interrupted with the threat of the other’s presence and he was now almost embarrassingly struggling to recapture that high.

And Crocodile noticed, glancing back over then when you made another noise of pain at the king’s roughest thrusts. “Are you actually having sex or just humping her with all the skill of an unneutered dog?”

You winced as Doflamingo’s hands somehow gripped you even harder at this insult and his voice loudly erupted.

“Just fucking go back to my office already! Let me finish what I started!”

You’d never heard the Young Master sound this flustered.

But in the meantime, Crocodile’s continued perusal of the remaining wine bottles had led him back to the one you’d set out just before Doflamingo’s attack. 

Still being brutally fucked, you were now helplessly watching as Crocodile set his cigar down. He checked the label on that bottle too before deciding to pour himself a tasting portion.

He sipped it, then making abrupt eye contact with you again. He spoke to you too, with all the casualness as if you’d just been standing here alone together.

As if Doflamingo wasn’t still balls deep between your legs.

As if the other pirate wasn’t even here with you and Crocodile at all right now.

“Is this the wine you were trying to bring us instead, Miss?” Crocodile asked, swirling the glass a bit before taking even a second taste.

And why you did it, you didn’t know. Even a nobody like you could recognize the freshly lit fuse of Doflamingo’s flaring temper as his body heat seemed to increase at these words.

“Yes, Sir Crocodile.” You answered so quietly.

Just before the king’s hand clutched around your throat to silence you and he yelled again.

“Go. Upstairs!” His orders which usually held the weight of a near god in this country, seemed to roll harmlessly off the other however.

Crocodile only filled that glass completely now with the wine you had chosen. He put his cigar back in his mouth before picking the glass off the counter to carry it with him.

He gave the two of you a parting look of only mild interest this time.

“Leave that one alive when you’re done then. I need better kitchen staff anyway. We can make a trade of some sort.”

And there was silence for a painful amount of seconds, before Doflamingo did release your throat abruptly. His smile had vanished. 

“You’re serious.” The king stated with a foreign air of incredulousness.

“You have a poor eye for talent.” Crocodile huffed, refusing to further explain himself as he did exit the room as unceremoniously as he’d come. 

And Doflamingo just stood there for a while, like his brain was trying to catch up.

He then looked back down at you. You who was still keeping his cock warm for him as he frowned.

“He actually likes you. You lucky little shit.” 

Yet his voice was different then. Because for the first time it did feel like he was talking to you instead of at you.

To your further shock his long fingers now moved over your clit as he began to rub it as well.

“But this just made you have a value. So you better remember who you really work for if I send you home with him…”

You couldn’t stop your abdomen from tightening then as Doflamingo rubbed that little bundle of nerves so purposefully now.

And it was a different kind of smile this time as he watched your reaction beneath him.

“The next time I’m in Alabasta, I’ll expect you to butter him up for me too. You can be the appetizer for that gator. But remember, I’m the entrée.” 

One that apparently paired well with your particular wine choice which Crocodile now favored as Doflamingo’s strings grabbed the whole bottle instead.

He took a crass guzzle from it after pulling it into his hand, rocking into you as deep as he possibly could again. 

His odd expression seemed to say he didn’t think it was half bad either.

Either that or he was finally starting to enjoy your body again without the distraction of the other warlord in the room.

“You aren’t off the hook with me either though. I’ll want my taste too the next time I see you.” He grinned, starting to pant again then as his fingers ran over your mouth. 

He leaned down over you more, body heat further mingling with an added intimacy that made your insides churn even as your orgasm finally threatened to overtake you.

Doflamingo’s voice whispered as he pushed his fingertips past your lips next, bidding you to suck them. “Maybe then we’ll just start with three to begin with. A cute little mutt, and her two warlords. But I’ll let you choose the wine for each round that night.”

You could see the way his mask was finally faltering now, his own lips parting while he watched you suck him subserviently and his fingers slipped in deeper.

“Is that a deal…my little cur?”

He actually shuddered once you nodded, with your tear stained cheeks and all as your channel clenched reflexively around him below your waists.

And that squeezing of your body around his did finish him off at last. His body still trembling as he rode that orgasm all the way through and came within the condom.

His larger frame was so heavy and uncomfortable when he draped briefly over you in the aftermath before pulling out. But his voice was nearly as soft as his spent cock then.

 “Good girl…such a good girl.” Came that rare praise only at the very end. “Behave in Alabasta, and I’ll see you soon.”

And the devil smiled at you one more time.

“Keep his bed warm for me.”

————————

End. Thanks for reading!

[beneathsilverstars]

been thinking about headcanons for how sadnesses work. they’re made out of solid craft, which can have a variety of physical properties, but is generally grouped into five categories of material. a sadness will be composed of several if not all of these materials, but each craft type has a material it tends towards a greater proportion of. this contributes to its type advantage and disadvantage.

hard craft - favored by scissors types - sharp but brittle. think bone or glass. it’s pointy and smooth and hard to get a grip on, but when it breaks it cracks and shatters. it tends to act as carapace or skeleton.

semi-hard craft - favored by rock types - strong but somewhat malleable. think metal. it can hit hard and it’s difficult to even scratch, but it’s easier to bend out of shape, and with enough bending you can break it. it tends to act as skeleton or limbs.

semi-soft craft - favored by paper types - flexible but soft. think rubber or fabric. it’s very maneuverable and can bend with a force and then back into place, but it’s easy to cut into. it tends to act as limbs or muscle.

soft craft - stretchy but weak. think dough. it’s easy to slice or pull or squish, but it bounces right back unless you tear it off entirely. it tends to act as muscle or skin.

liquid craft - adaptable but flimsy. think slime or honey. it’s hard to truly alter because it flows and reforms easily, but it can’t affect anything else very much either. it tends to act as clothes, hair, or tears.

a person can use their innate craft energy to absorb some of the impact of an attack, and the way it does so reflects their craft type. craft attacks and defenses aren’t made of a solid material the same way sadnesses are; they seem more like light or gas or electricity. but, they take on properties of solid matter when you interact with them, sort of like how oobleck seems liquid but then acts solid when you smack it. alternatively, craft can be channeled through a physical object and amplify its properties instead.

[thus-spoke-lo]

cw: post-sex conversations--the nerdy law agenda is real

“Oh, hey—I keep forgetting,” Law murmurs as he quickly kisses your forehead, “I have something for you.”

He wrests himself from your languid embrace, your bodies still trembling and sweat-slicked as you slowly descend from breathless highs. He dangles his torso off the bed, rooting around underneath it, the sounds of boxes shifting and unidentified objects clacking together echoing in your small room. You prop yourself up on your elbow and take the opportunity to let your eyes drift over the half of his body that remained on the bed, over the muscled planes of his lower back, the lean lines of his hips, and the slight curve of his ass. You stifle a laugh as his legs suddenly tense and kick, trying to keep himself from sliding off the side of the bed.

He grunts and crawls back up on the mattress, holding a small, black, velvet box in his hand, and your heart flutters a little—you know it isn’t that—is it? Would he…? And right now, after you’d just absolutely ruined each other—what kind of timing is this, anyway?

He slowly opens the box, and inside is a glimmering copper coin, the front adorned with a bird motif. He grins at you expectantly, his eyebrows raised slightly as he holds the box out towards you, inching it closer and closer the longer it takes you to respond.

“Oh!” you exclaim as you tilt your head, glancing at the box, then at his beaming face, then back at the little box. “It’s a…coin?”

His smile quickly disappears, as he swallows and his lips part as though to speak, but he pauses, a deep flush blooming on his cheeks. “I’m sorry, this is stupid.”

“No!” Your hands quickly fly across to grip his forearms, and you plant a small kiss on his cheek. “It’s not stupid, you got me a gift—it’s pretty! What’s um, what’s so special about it?”

Law’s eyes light up, glimmering with excitement, as you give him permission to explain. “Okay, well—I got it for you because, well, I remember that story you told me about the time those birds kept dive-bombing you when you were eating that sandwich at the beach, and well, wouldn’t you know this is the same species of bird? Now here”—he took the coin out carefully, dropping it into his palm—“is why this one is special. You see this demarcation right here? So that’s from a minting process they stopped using about fifteen years ago—which, don’t get me started on why that was a mistake—and anyway—”

You wrap your plush bedspread around your shoulders and rest your chin in your palm as you watch your love, still sitting naked in the center of your bed, eagerly gesturing at the shining coin in his hand and growing more and more animated with every sentence. You nodd affirmatively at all the right times, his tone growing more and more excited the longer he explained every process and its purpose, every variety of metal you’d never heard of, every complicated part of the minting process. This man—this sweet, passionate, nerdy man—had never seemed more perfect for you as he did in this moment.

He suddenly comes to a halt as his eyes refocus and settle on your face, picking up on some minor tic or twitch in your expression that seemed to indicate disinterest. “I’m—I’m sorry, I’m rambling.” He drops the coin back in the box and shuts it. “This isn’t very sexy, is it?”

You lean forward, running a hand through his tousled hair, before placing a hand on either side of his anxious face, pressing your palms into the hollows of his cheeks. You hold his head steady, forcing him to meet your gaze, as you touch the tip of your nose to his and smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever found you sexier, my love.”

[thespnreferencedesk]

A Fic Writer's Guide to the 1967 Impala

Part 1: Exterior | Part 2

Click for the full-size, annotated versions of images! Unlabeled screenshots here

The given dimensions for the four-door hardtop Impala are 213.2 inches long (17.6 feet, 5.4 meters), 79.9 inches wide (6.6 feet, 2 meters), and around 55 inches tall (4.5 feet, 1.4 meters). Its wheelbase (the distance between the front and rear axles) is just shy of 10 feet. For comparison, the Impala is about three feet longer than a modern Toyota Corolla with a 1.5 foot longer wheelbase, but the same width and height. Fully loaded, it weighs easily over 2 tons and rides low to the ground. Baby is big.

Baby is a “hardtop” Impala rather than the sedan. This means it does not have a support post between the front and rear windows. The bit of trim/seal between them is part of the rear window and retracts with it when the window is rolled down. The exterior color is Tuxedo Black, and this color is still available today. It has a faint metallic finish to it due to small suspended glass particles that catch the light.

The original plates are Sedgwick County, Kansas front and rear plates with the number KAZ 2Y5 (referencing Kansas and 2005, the year the show started). After 2.19, they switch to Ohio front and rear plates with the number CNK 80Q3. When John first buys the car in 1973 in 4.03, it has a vintage rear Kansas plate with the number RPC 45P4. In 4.13 and 11.08 flashbacks to 1992 and 1997, the front and rear plates are Kansas BQN 9R3. In the djinn dream in 2.20, both plates are Kansas RMD 5H2.

The Impala has a circular driver’s side mirror, but no passenger side mirror. Between 1.01 and 3.09, it also features adjustable spotlights/searchlights on both sides. It also has two-speed chrome windshield wipers, an antennae on the front passenger’s side, and bumper guards on the front and back bumpers.

Up through episode 3.09, the Impala has chrome aftermarket Unity spotlights mounted on both sides. Mounting instructions and a up-close view of these on a fan replica can be seen here. Note that Baby's spotlights have black handles with a thin red stripe. Turn the handle to turn the spotlight's base (up/down), and twist the handle to turn and aim the light (left/right). There is a small switch under the half-sphere part of the handle that locks the light's position.

Baby's wipers have chrome arms and have two speeds, low and high. The doors feature mounted door handles with opening buttons just below them. You push in these buttons to open the door instead of pulling on the handle itself. If locking the door by pressing the door lock button on the window sill, these buttons need to be held down while closing the doors so as not to hit the physical locking mechanism.

Unique to the 1967 are these cage-style corner lamps. They are completely absent on the '66 and different on the '68. The headlights are controlled by a knob on the dash and a high beam button down in the floorboard (pushed with your foot). These come on when the parking lights are turned on. Of the two inner circular lights, the outer one is the low beam and has a low and high filament. The inner circular light is the high beam only and comes on when the floor switch is pressed. The rear lights feature the outer turn signal, center tail lights, and inner brake lights (see below).

To the best of my knowledge, Baby has 15x7 (15" diameter, 7" width) chrome steel wheels in the front and 15x8 in the back. This particular style is currently discontinued but was sold through a variety of brands under different names. The brand Cragar refers to this style as the "Super Spoke."

Outside of the in-universe book series’ fandom, four door Impalas are not sought-after or particularly “cool” classic cars. The Impala was marketed as a mid-luxury “family” car rather than something sporty or muscle-y. Other classic car buffs that Dean comes across might appreciate the way Dean has maintained the Impala for a daily driver, but not compared to a show car. They may also find the Impala underrated, but it is not a typical "dream car" the way a classic Camaro or Chevelle might be.

Without Dean, Baby would have likely ended up used for parts for other more desirable cars. This generation of Impalas is also virtually identical to other Chevrolets like Caprices and Bel Airs. Since Baby is debadged except for the “Chevrolet” on the grill, anyone who recognizes it as an Impala would be a massive nerd.

Just like Dean.

[prophecyofwinter]

Se Riña Qilōni Iprattan Se Jēdar | V

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary | Saera Targaryen daughter of Jaehaerys I ran away from Westeros to escape her fate. 45 years later her daughter Y/N Targaryen, with invitation from King Viserys wishes to go back.

Tags | Angst, Slowburn (Hot&Cold), TargCest, Smut, Standard ASOIAF content, Aemond and Reader are First Cousins Once Removed, Reader is Self-serving, tags to be added

Word Count: 3k

Prologue | Chapter IV | Chapter VI | Masterlist

Chapter V | He Won’t Forget

“It is the hour of the nightingale my lady, you must wake up.” A hushed voice stirs you from your sleep and shakes you awake. A groan escaped your throat and you opened your eyes to meet the voice that woke you. A girl no older than yourself stood above you, with pitch black hair and wearing what you would assume to be a maids attire. It was still very early in the morning, the sun hadn't even broken the horizon.

You could tell there was one other maid by the torch light, she was lighting candles that were scattered in different places throughout the room.

“She is not a lady quite yet, miss will do until then.” By the other maids' voice you could tell she was older and more seasoned. You sat up against the headboard to wake yourself up some more. Naturally, the furs that covered your body in the night slipped down exposing your upper torso.

“Miss makes me sound like a spinster.” You groaned while stretching your arms. You step out full from under the sheets, standing on the cold stone floor. The younger maid has a robe open for you to slip into and you follow.

“The Queen has ordered that you see her and the Hand of the King before midday. In that time we must get you bathed, fed, and clothed.” The older maid said while reaching for a jug to spill into a metal bathtub that you hadn’t even noticed.

“Very well. Since you’ve already seen my breasts, I assume it’s appropriate for me to ask your names?” You laugh to yourself as you wrap the front of the robe criss cross. The younger one finds it funny and lets out a soft laugh while the older one simply clears her throat.

“My name is Mela, and this young one is Ellyn. While I am experienced, you are the first person Ellyn has served so please forgive her childishness“ Mela sends a warning glare at Ellyn for her giggles. Ellyn pouts for a moment before joining Mela in emptying the water jugs. You look at the features of the two women for the first time, Mela has blonde hair and Ellyn a medium brown.

It seems counterproductive to put a robe on just to take it off moments later to bathe. As soon as they are finished filling the tub, the water has cooled enough to not be boiling hot. You grab onto both sides of the tub and sink in slowly. A moan escapes your lips as you feel your muscles truly relax. Being on a ship for almost a month didn’t give you many hot warm baths, just room temperature ones. Mela pushes you forward so she could access your back to begin washing. While Ellyn poured scented oils into the water filling your nose with a smell you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

You could fall asleep right there, especially when your hair was being washed. Her nails massaging your scalp with even better smelling things. You’ve had your hair washed by another person a few times, but then it was by one of your mothers prostitutes in the workers' baths with her breasts pressed against your back. Up in the air which one you preferred.

For the first time a while you felt fully and utterly clean. You wanted to whine when the water cooled down to the point where it was no longer comforting to sit in. Ellyn holds up the same robe as before waiting for you to slip in. Being careful to not slip as you leave the tub, you put on the robe.

————

As your hair dries, your breakfast is set in front of you. Bread, butter, assorted fruits, salted fish and sweet wine. Mela tells you this is what is normally served in Westeros, a larger variety is served if you decide to eat meals with the Targaryens. You pick and choose from what you are given and take your fill.

A knock clearly made by metal against wood rings through the quiet room. You let out a sigh having an inkling that it may be a certain white haired brother of yours. You speak out a ‘come in’, and maybe you should pick up gambling. Vaegon walked in with clinking armor and his hand on the pommel of his sword.

“Forgive me sister, I didn’t mean to interpret your very important work. But, while I don’t need permission to protect my sister, I have been allowed to be your personal guard until you're fully settled.” Vaegon held himself proudly, he’s clearly getting a kick from being allowed to stalk and follow you around in the name of protecting you. His weird little dream is being fueled.

This news makes a shiver roll down your spine. If you weren’t already full you would’ve lost your appetite. “That's… Great brother. That means you’ll be leaving after me and Aemond marry then?”

He clearly stiffens up at the implication, gripping his sword harder. “Most likely yes, unless you still need me here. I recommend you keep me here by your side.”

“No, I’m sure Volantis needs you more than I do. The temple needs you and silver wouldn’t suit you.” You say passive aggressively hoping he will get the hint. After many years he still hasn’t understood so you knew your hopes would be set to the side.

Vaegon opens his mouth again to voice his opinion but you cut him off swiftly.

“I am quite full, I should be getting dressed brother. Make your leave. Now.”

He staggers for a minute before leaving with his tail between his legs. Nothing would dissuade Vaegon from his passions, if he died his ghost would haunt you surely. When the door shut an awkward silence filled the room, neither of the maids sure what to do next. You realize how this must look, harassing your brother. But you know him, they don’t.

The chair squeaks on the floor when you stand up to face your maids and give them a smile. “It's about time I get dressed, no? I would hate to be late.”

A ‘yes of course’ was said in usion and you were guided to a full mirror. You stripped from your robe, seeing yourself fully for the first time in a while. A month at sea and you still looked as beautiful as always.

From what you have seen, Aemond is a proud and cold man. Most likely due to your bastard status. But, men are men at the end of the day, their desires will get the best of them even if it’s against their morals.

You slip into your small clothes, in the mirror you see Mela holding a red dress that you don’t recognize from the ones you brought. You turn to take a proper look at it, it looks like a fairly simple dress. Long sleeves with slits from the forearms down, straight neckline, long skirt, faint decorations throughout, and there's a chain resting on the dress that will dangle across your waist.

“Whose dress is this? Surely you can’t just have ones this nice lying around?”

“Well, it did belong to someone but it was left behind over 6 years ago and hadn't been worn even longer ago than that. Queen Alicent said to go through old wardrobes and find you something for the time being.”

You hoped it was at least washed before giving it to you. It was very pretty, very pretty, but second hand all the same. It was bunched up for you to step in and put on. You felt the strings on the back be picked up and before you could react they were harshly yanked back and all the air was forced from your lungs. A whine escaped from your throat and hands gripped the sides of the mirror. A string of panicked apologies follow as you recollect yourself.

“No no, it’s quite alright. I just wasn’t ready. Whoever owned this had real taste, they have my thanks.” You posed in the mirror, finding a position that wasn't crushing your ribs. The chain was clasped round your waist and groups of your hair are braided back.

A smile creeps onto your face. This small taste of importance is greater than any wine in Essos. Baths to yourself, food served directly in your chambers, lovely kind maids who dress you themselves, soon to be called a Princess with a Prince by your side… It is almost enough.

—————

Vaegon stood two paces behind you. You originally told him to stand 10 paces behind but he insisted. You can’t win every battle. A guard walked you both deeper into the keep. He didn’t tell you where you were going, just that it was by the Queen's orders. You pray it isn’t to get probed again.

Suddenly you hear footsteps approaching rapidly towards you. You turn around and see a clearly Targaryen man, white wavy hair and a slightly shorter stature than Aemond. He looks excited, really excited.

“Just the girl I was looking for. I needed to see you for myself.” He caught up quickly and walked right next to you. The guard uttered a ‘my Prince’ and continued his walk. He could either be Aegon or Daeron.

“You’re Aegon, yes?”

“Did my good looks and charm give it away?” Aegon laughs and you laugh with him. Aegon looks around with his hands out feigning shock. “Where’s my brother?”

“I don’t think Aemond likes me that much.” You let out huff mixed with a laugh while gazing at Aegon from the side.

“He’s always had a stick up his ass, don’t take it too personally. He’ll come around eventually, I certainly would.” Aegon whispers the last part into your ear with a hand on your back, you can smell the wine on his breath. You are surprised by his boldness, but far from the worst things you’ve heard. You give him a straight lipped smile and lean back into him.

“Where am I going?” You whispered slowly with passive aggression.

“Oh? You haven’t heard? I’m surprised you haven’t been told. In the throne room they are reading your letter of legitimization.” He wears a smile so wide you would know he’s drunk immediately. Your eyes go wide. Is it happening this fast? You just got here, you’d thought it would at least take some time.

“Normally it’s a simple letter, but since you are already here…” Aegon makes a weird gesture with his hands.

That makes sense, all you need is a letter from the king, and the King has already asked you to come. You imagine the rest of them would just want to get it out of the way. At least Aegon doesn’t seem to care, maybe too drunk to care.

Not too long until you arrive at the doors to the iron throne. Doors as tall as the ceiling and two men stand at the front, noticing Aegon and you they grip onto the rings of the door and pull them open.

The first thing that graces your eyes is the Iron Throne. It was grand, on top of all those steps with swords casted together. It entranced you. Your mother told you about the Iron Throne, only once. She said her father sat on it like a god and he called her a whore. She’d hoped that it would stab him through the chest just as it did to Maegor.

Snapping you out of your short lived daydream, Aegon grabbed your wrist and led you in a direction. All of the lords and ladies were staring at you both, you hope it wouldn’t linger for long. Near the front of the room you could see that it was Aemond, Alicent, and another silver haired girl. Helena, you believe you were told?

“Look who I found! Ran into her on the way here.” Aegon walked you over to Aemond directly and grabbed his arm and forcibly linked your and Aemonds arms together.

“I believe you lost this brother.” Aegon patted his brother on the back and caressed your shoulder. Between the two of you he caught a glimpse of a servant boy carrying wine and simply moved on to drink his fill. Aegon's mind is an enigma…

Aemond lets out a huff but doesn’t let go. He leans into you with darkened eyes. “What do you think you are doing?”

“I was talking to my future brother-in-law. He is quite funny.” You laugh in an attempt to lighten his mood. Of course, this doesn’t work and Aemond tightens his grip on your arm. Eyes were still on you both so he tried to make it look like a simple conversation.

“Don’t.”

Before you could scoff in Aemonds face, the doors are pulled open once again. You turn your head to see an older man with brown hair and a thick beard. This clearly is not King Viserys by the state of him.

“King Viserys is still too unwell to sit at court. As Otto Hightower, Hand of the King, I will assume his courtly duties.” The room is silent and there’s no sound but the clicks of his heels on the floor going across the floor, up the steps and sitting on the throne.

“First things first, a formal declaration of legitimization from King Viserys himself.” Otto held out a rolled up letter with a red seal holding it together. “Come. Present yourself to the court.” He motioned for you to step closer to the open center, Aemond released his hold and nudged you to go.

You detached from Aemond and walked to the center of the room in front of the Iron Throne. You swallowed hard with your hands folded in front of you, head held high. You wish you’d at least been told this was happening. If it wasn’t for Aegon you wouldn't have had the slightest idea.

The seal was popped open and the scroll unraveled by Otto and cleared his voice before he spoke.

‘As Viserys Targaryen, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.

It is with much honor to the Targaryen name,

My Cousin, Y/N of Volantis, daughter of Princess Saera Targaryen, is declared Princess Y/N Targaryen of House Targaryen.

From this day until your last.’

An applause echoed throughout the room, no doubt one done out of obligation. A smile decorated on your face hiding your anxieties and swirling thoughts.

“King Viserys and House Targaryen have my love and appreciation for allowing me into their walls. My mother is extremely pleased with this outcome.” You make a curtsey before the throne. Otto nods and gestures for you to return to where you stood previously next to Aemond.

You thought such a thing would be longer but it makes sense. Bastard legitimization isn’t something that is celebrated as a great thing like Weddings or Name Days. You stand next to Aemond for the next few proceedings until Alicent has Aemond to lean over to her and whisper something in his ear.

—————

You’re linked by the arm with Aemond as he walks you through the palace gardens. You assume this is what Alicent whispered to Aemond about. As your protector, Vaegon is nearby but you try to ignore him.

There is still a tension between you and Aemond that has persisted for the past 24 hours. You are unsure if it is just his nature or if it’s due to other obvious factors. Legitimization doesn’t change the social problems with being a bastard in Westeros. You didn’t expect it to, but you’re nothing if not ambitious.

“Do you take many walks through the gardens or am I special?” You laugh to break the silence.

“I prefer to walk in the gardens at night. For Privacy and it’s better at night.” Aemond doesn’t attempt to make eye contact, preferring to look forward.

“I would take similar walks myself in the courtyards in the Black Walls.” Aemond looks to the side ever so slightly with confusion. “Oh, Right. The Black Walls is this gigantic oval of walls that contains all kinds of things. Palaces, Courtyards, Temples and more. I think I’ll start missing it sometime soon.” Rambling and reminiscing makes you feel better.

Aemond seems to actually take interest, making full eye contact. “I believe I read about the Black Wall before. Only people who can trace their ancestry to Valyria are allowed in, correct?” He talks in a tone you haven’t heard yet, he’s being genuine.

A smile paints your face “You are well read. My father has property in those walls and my mother needs help in her older age so I would split my time between the two.” Hopefully you can visit soon, but realistically it wouldn’t happen for another year or more.

“Your father? No one seems to know anything about your father except that he has quite a bit of money.”

“Maybe I’ll tell you someday if I really like you. I might even want to take you to Volantis someday.” You tease him, holding onto him a little more snugly.

Aemond likes this banter showing you a small smile for the first time. Though, this doesn’t last long when you see a flicker behind his eyes and he pulls back emotionally and physically.

“Forgive me for cutting our walk short. I have lost track of time and I must head to the dragon pit.” He says with the same tone as he had with anything before this conversation. You swallow hard and attempt to say anything.

Aemond puts his gloved hand on your cheek and kisses the other. “I hope to see you at dinner.”

“I hope the same.”

Aemond takes his leave and all you do is watch him walk away. You bring your fingertips to your cheek and trace the area he kissed you on, your face drops with a sad expression.

“He remembered what you are, Sister. He won’t forget.” With Aemond gone, Vaegon is more comfortable getting closer to you. You hate that he is right. You can’t let him of all people be right.

It’s only been a day and you're chipping at Aemond faster than you thought. It feels like he’s chipping at you at the same time.

[taeaura]

Thomas Hewitt Medical Analysis / Headcanons?? Because I love him

TW: Self-mutilation, Hoyt mention {very very brief}, typical canon activities, self-harm?, skin conditions,

Very poor editing, my apologies -

Speech:

I’ve seen many people assume that Thomas either A.) Doesn’t speak by choice; B.) Can’t speak from vocal {cord} issues; Or C.) A combination of the two / his facial deformity. I agree with everyone else but I’d also like to add a potential reason: I’m pretty sure Thomas was diagnosed with ‘metal deterioration’ of some sort in the introduction scene {2006/The Beginning}, and considering this was the mid-late 1900’s, knowledge on mental health was very little compared to now, especially in such a small town. Thomas could possibly be neurodivergent, maybe high-function autism but even then, Thomas could simply have a condition called Speech Apraxia/Apraxia of Speech/AOS/CAS. “In CAS, the brain has trouble planning for speech movement. The brain isn't able to properly direct the movements needed for speech. The speech muscles aren't weak, but the muscles don't form words the right way.” - Mayo Clinic. This could’ve been amplified by his facial deformity. I don’t think it’s irrational to think Thomas can speak, or speaks scarcely, but it’s also not irrational to think Thomas just doesn’t speak. I don’t think it’s a vocal cord issue as Thomas can make sounds pretty well {Considering he screams/yells/yelps at times in the 2003 remake, and even ‘howls’ in the 2006 version after he gets stabbed by Chrissie.} This is just a thought though, I could be wrong.

Skin Condition:

In a behind-the-scenes video {which can be found on youtube}, one of the crew members said Thomas had an extreme form of skin cancer. Now, this could very well be true, but if it was a real-world condition, Thomas would either be bed-ridden, hooked to a machine constantly, or dead. This condition could be made up, but I’ve found two possible real-world conditions which Thomas may have. 

Cutaneous Lupus {CLE}. “Cutaneous lupus is one type of lupus — an autoimmune disease that causes inflammation in different body tissues. “Cutaneous lupus,” which means skin lupus, affects your skin. Inflammation in your skin causes a variety of symptoms — most often a red, scaly rash. These symptoms are triggered by sunlight exposure.” - Cleveland Clinic. This, as most skin conditions, can be localized, meaning they’re only in one area. In Thomas’ case, this is his face. This could also occur in his scalp, neck, and ears for all we know. CLE is also not contagious.

___

What is CLE? 

“Cutaneous lupus, or skin lupus, is an autoimmune disease that affects your skin, causing skin rashes. Autoimmune diseases happen when your immune system mistakenly attacks your own body tissues. In cutaneous lupus, your immune system attacks your skin cells, causing chronic inflammation in your skin. This manifests as a recognizable rash, often with related symptoms like itching, irritation or swelling.” - Cleveland Clinic

2. Pustular Psoriasis. Now, this diagnosis doesn’t make the most sense until you see the actual ‘photo’ of Thomas’ face. A photo {Which is shown below} is from the 2006/The Beginning behind-the-scenes’ on youtube. This looks A LOT like Pustular Psoriasis to me; Though I could be very wrong. “Symptoms of pustular psoriasis include pustules (white or yellow, pus-filled, painful bumps) that may be surrounded by inflamed or reddened/discolored skin. The pus in pustules is caused by inflammation and is not contagious. People with plaque psoriasis or other types of psoriasis may also develop pustular psoriasis” - The National Psoriasis Foundation. Common placement of Pustular Psoriasis includes the hands, feet, scalp, and face. It usually affects the hands and feet {Palmoplantar pustulosis}, but not in all patients.

___

What’s the Difference?

“Pustular psoriasis is a type of psoriasis that causes skin plaques with pustules or blisters anywhere on your body. Palmoplantar pustulosis, which is also known as palmoplantar pustular psoriasis, is pustular psoriasis that affects only your hands and feet.” - Cleveland Clinic

___

What is Pustular Psoriasis?

Psoriasis is an auto-immune disease, as is CLE: “Your immune system keeps your body healthy by defending itself against foreign invaders like bacteria. These invaders can make you sick. If you have psoriasis, your skin immune system becomes overactive and releases inflammatory molecules that cause healthy skin cells to divide and replicate too quickly, which causes dead skin cells to form on the surface of your skin as scales or flakes. This state of immunologic over-activity also causes certain cells from the immune system called neutrophils to collect in the most superficial layers of the skin, which causes pustules.” - Cleveland Clinic

Photo for Reference:

I’m not joking, this is an actual screenshot from the Behind-The-Scenes at around 32:17. Now, I don’t think Thomas’ condition AS SEEN IN THE FILMS is as extreme, but this might be what a flare-up looks like for him. That being said, there’s a significant feature Thomas has that we haven’t addressed yet,

How Did Thomas Lose His Nose?

In The Beginning {2006}, we can see Thomas’ nose cartilage rotting off from multiple open wounds. Just based on this information, it’s safe to assume it just rotten off, right? Not necessarily. Looking at Thomas’ face reveal in the 2003 remake, we notice the nose is cleanly cut off right where the ‘rot’/wound was in the 2006 version. Combine this with his tendency of self-mutilation, this leads me to assume he {or someone in the family} cut it off. Now, I’ve researched this a bit {hyperfixation running rampant rn} and cutting off your nose doesn’t hit any major arteries and isn’t life-threatening on its own. However, your nose is part of what’s called the ‘Triangle of Death.’ The Triangle of Death is a part of the face featuring the nose all the way down to the corners of the mouth. Because this area is so close to your brain as well as openings in your face, infections can be deadly. So cutting off your own nose could kill you from infection, not the act itself. Obviously, Thomas didn’t die from this as he’s in the damn movies with a fully-healed 'nose'. Anyway, going back to observing his face, we can also see the nasal bone. Finally answering the question: It’s safe to assume Thomas picks at his skin alot. Combine this with poor hygiene and wearing his {very dirty} mask all the time, his wounds most likely got infected. This caused him to literally rot from the inside out, which caused necrosis. Thomas most likely cut his nose off because of an infection that had the potential to be fatal. Lord knows Luda Mae was probably horrified and I’m sure Hoyt wasn’t too thrilled either..{Monty’s snoozin’ 100%}

Anyway, apologies for the poorly-edited and non-coherent rant. I see so many theories and get a bit intimidated to comment under most of them so I decided to post this instead. :)

[puuuders]

Brat ~ Terzomega oneshot

Smut

~

Um. So I wrote this based on Vanmecs er... Art series... On Twitter. 18+

I've been debating posting this because it's... Ummm not what I usually write. Very intense. But I decided fuck it, I'll post it. Hahahaha

~

Terzo gets put in his place.

Content warning - bondage, blindfolds, gags, overstimulation, sounding

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Click.

Omega pushed the barred metal into the slot on the other side, the chain of the handcuffs clanking quietly against the metal bed frame. He slid his hands down Terzo’s shoulders as he examined, a cocky smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he watched Terzo test them. As intended, his hands were held in place above his head, allowing only enough wiggle room to slightly bend his elbows. His ankles, too, experienced a similar fate. They were cuffed to a metal bar, forcing his legs apart for Omega’s convenience. Terzo was grinning wider than Omega was, although there was room for debate. He stared up at his own defenselessness, tugging gently and twisting his knees inward for the sake of feeling trapped. 

Terzo wore his favorite black gartered socks, hating the feeling of being without them. On his upper body, his jacket was unbuttoned and thrown to his sides, leaving his torso entirely available. Around his neck was a pink bow, a collar charm dangling from it that had the degrading term “brat” engraved on it, and a matching bow around the base of his already throbbing cock. 

“Last chance,” Omega warned, dragging a finger around Terzo’s chest. Terzo watched, chest puffing, mouth slightly agape. Omega was kneeling on the bed beside the bound man, wearing nothing but his own black boxers, surrounded by a wide variety of toys: a whip, some beads, and, much to Terzo’s interest, multiple vibrators.

”I will not be merciful.”

“Good.” Terzo hissed through his smile. Omega raised his eyebrows and blinked slowly, tilting his head.

”Is that so?” Omega removed his hand from his chest, slowly wrapping his fingers around the pink, leather whip. Terzo’s smirk faded as he watched with wide eyes, yet no protest escaped his lips. Omega chuckled.

”No. Nonono,” Omega stood up, opening a drawer in his nightstand where a bottle of lube sat on top, “you think I am finished?”

Terzo furrowed his eyebrows, yet the confusion gave way to shock as Omega pulled out a pink ball gag and an object that was hidden behind a gray cloth. He knelt back down, unwrapping the object tantalizingly slow in front of Terzo, making direct eye contact as he now held a small metal sounding rod in front of Terzo.

”You know where this goes, don’t you, Papa?” Omega teased. Terzo stared wide eyed in shock, nodding, silent as a mouse.

”Forgive me for what I had said earlier. Now, this is your last chance.” Omega grabbed the ball gag in his other hand, twirling the sounding rod in his fingers, examining it as if he had never seen it before.

”Do you see a spot to cum through this? Because I don’t.”

Terzo shivered. He swallowed, his mouth dry, muscles tense. He remained quiet. 

“I’m being nice, amore,” Omega sighed dramatically, “this is your last chance to-“

”Don’t be a pussy, ghoul.” Terzo barked. Omega stared at him blankly, his mouth slowly closing. Terzo grinned. Omega had never seen someone look so confident, so defiant.

So bratty.

Omega grabbed his jaw, prying it open, Terzo’s squeak like music to his ears. He jammed the gag into his mouth, huffing angrily, pulling him by his hair to clip the gag to him. That confident look vanished from Terzo’s eyes, replaced with desperation, almost fear. A useless look, as Omega used the cloth that hid the sounding rod to blind the now whining man.

Terzo’s silence had transferred over to Omega. Terzo was whining, whimpering, squirming gently. Omega said nothing. His claws raked down his chest and down his stomach, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to leave faint red marks trailing down his skin. He could hear Terzo trying to speak through the gag, but if it were anything worth hearing, he would have said so during the chances Omega had so mercifully given him. That opportunity was over now.

Omega grabbed the sounding rod. He placed the tip of it on Terzo’s chest, making him flinch, dragging it down the middle of his torso. Licking the tip of his cock, Omega moved it all the way down, crawling up to meet his tongue, where the only sort of lube he decided to use being his own saliva. He licked it, held Terzo’s cock still, and began to insert it.

Terzo gasped. His back arched and he whined louder, tugging hard on his cuffs. Yet he remained there. Not still, but in place. His breath was rapid as the rod was fully inserted, creating a pressure inside of him that he only felt when he would orgasm. 

But, of course in Omega and his cruelty, that was not all. He grabbed the bar that Terzo’s ankles were strapped to, looping it around his head, squeezing Terzo’s thighs. His fingertips dug into the skin of his hips on one hand, the other reaching for one of the vibrator packs that was set next to Terzos waist. It was a small pink box with a dial, attached to it being bullet vibrators via a cord. That, too, Omega licked and spat on, and without any warning, he began pushing the bullets into Terzo.

Terzo’s thighs tensed and he whined behind the gag, jolting slightly in surprise. Too soon, as Omega had lubed himself, and began stuffing the vibrators deep inside of Terzo with his cock. Terzo gasped and arched his back, moaning, jerking his head side to side and tugging on the cuffs. 

Omega let out a deep breath, his eyes fluttering shut as he entered his partner entirely. No. He tormented himself for a moment, forcing himself to pull out once he thrusted the vibrators against Terzo’s prostate a few times. 

“Not yet,” he mumbled under his breath, both to Terzo and himself. 

Another. This time, a wand. Pressed against his entrance, holding up his balls, Omega took a roll of medical tape he had stolen from the ministry's infirmary just for this special occasion they had been talking about for a few days. He taped the box of the bullet vibrators along with the wand to Terzo's thigh, unnecessarily digging it into his skin just to leave a reminder of how much of a slut Terzo was for begging for this. 

A physical reminder would not be necessary, though, for the shock that coursed through the bound man's body as Omega turned the vibrators on at once at full throttle would be burned in the back of Terzo's mind for a long time. 

“Mmph!” Was all Terzo could say. He could squirm and twitch, flail his thighs, but he was silent. He could not escape the feeling with the toys taped in place. 

Omega stared at his work, fangs poking into his lower lip as he grinned sadistically. But, oh, his work was not done yet. There was still another vibrator pack. 

“Hmm…” Omega thought aloud, trailing the plastic cover of the box across Terzo's stomach. “Where… Where…”

The bullets dragged behind, gliding up to his chest, circling his nipples. Terzo gasped through his already growing-frantic moans, puffing his chest out as if inviting Omega to torture it. So he did. He taped each bullet to either nipple, this time teasing the poor pope by gradually increasing the intensity until it was at max. 

“Filthy.” Omega grumbled, climbing off of the bed and admiring him. Terzo turned his head to the sound of Omega's voice, moans escaping in high pitched but quiet whines and whimpers.

“So filthy, in fact,” Omega walked around the bed, Terzo's attention following his footsteps, “it makes me want to go take a shower.”

“Mmph!?” Terzo cried. He shook his head. Omega chuckled. 

“Oh, yes. Right now.” Omega made it a point to open their shared clothing drawer loudly. Terzo whined and cried through his gag as Omega collected his clothes. 

“Shh, shh.” Omega returned to the side of the bed, startling Terzo as he touched his face to caress his cheek, makeup smeared with drool, “I'll only be gone for… 30 minutes. Oh, I sure hope you don't have to cum.”

Terzo gripped the chain of his hand cuffs, shaking his head desperately, his begging for Omega to stay unintelligible. His squeals grew louder with each distant footstep until a final cry of panic as the door to their shared bathroom shut and locked. 

Omega only smirked to himself as he listened to the gradual increase in volume of Terzo’s shrill, gagged cries. He'd think he was being murdered with those sounds if he didn't know any better. If it wasn't his own hands who set him up for this torture. 

Omega took his time, drying himself off, his content hums occasionally drowned out by particular high pitched wails. He didn't bother putting his clothes on. There would be no point, he would only discard them as he stepped back in the room to deliver more sensation to his toy for the evening. He gently stroked his throbbing length, closing his eyes, imagining the scenario of Terzo writhing there in the sheets, tear stricken and drool pooling around his cheeks. He played with himself briefly, just enough to bead up some precum, before opening the door. 

Terzos head jerked to the side, though he still couldn't see. Omega nearly stumbled at the sight; his makeup was nearly gone, cried off of his skin apart from some blotchy spots and his nose. Bruises circled his tense wrists from tugging on his cuffs, his knees twisted inwards, though the spreader bar forbade any relief for the suffering man. 

“Fuck.” Omega growled, slowly stepping towards Terzo, who whined and choked eagerly behind his gag. There was no telling what Omega would do to him, but for some reason he believed that Omega would have mercy on him. His thought was backed up with the evidence of Omega turning off and removing the vibrating wand between his legs, gently pulling out the vibrators stuffed in his ass that tormented his prostate to a mind numbing level. He sighed, though the bullets on his nipples continued to make him jerk and shiver. But, mercy did not mean that it would all be over. 

Terzos delusion was shattered, losing all sense of mercy as the bullets were reattached to his still stuffed cock, just below his tip. He shrieked, bucked his hips and wailed loudly, groaning with no time to react when Omega stuffed a heart shaped plug inside him. 

Saliva trailed off of his lips and tongue as Omega removed the gag. In his typical fashion, Omega refused him any time to speak before his cock was jammed between his lips, only replacing the gag, except this time his vocal cords were restrained. His cock penetrated so far down his throat, the only sounds Terzo could produce being a strained, quiet hum, further stimulating the ghoul who fucked his throat so harshly. And, despite his suffering, Terzo did his best work for his love. 

Omega didn't finish. The mercy he refused to show the rest of Terzos sweat-coated body he showed to his throat as he slowly pulled out as to not seriously hurt him. Omega let his cock slap against his face a few times before climbing on the bed, straddling Terzo, ignoring his now ungagged babbles and begs for nothing in particular. Still blindfolded, he could only sob to the feeling of his legs being lifted, hooked around Omega's body, while the sounding rod and vibrators were finally removed from his throbbing, red cock. 

Startling him, Omega ripped the vibrators off of him as his mouth descended to his chest, biting and sucking, growling sadistic threats through gritted teeth each brief moment he pulled away. Threats to knock the poor man out with his cock alone, pounding him beyond repair. These threats were not empty, as he was already hastily lining himself up, grinding against him, hands now grabbing at his waist as he carefully yet quickly pushed inside.

Terzo wailed. His back arched off the bed, blindfold refusing to give him any idea of what the ghoul had planned for him. His entrance was stretched, Omega only going in slow enough as to not tear him from impact, prostrate still throbbing and stimulated from the vibrators before. Omega wasted no time to begin pounding, their skin slapping together, the sound drowned up by Terzo's crazed, desperate moans and the sound of the chain clinking against the bed frame. 

Terzo was losing his mind. He was seeing stars at this point, overstimulated to all hell. Light reflected off of the sweat beading up on his body, soaking the sheets beneath him, cock leaking precum. Naturally, after everything he had gone through, it was impossible for him to last. He could feel it throbbing in his balls, gurgling up, sending waves of intense pleasure up his spine that made him twitch until his eventual, hard release. His hips flew up, seed shooting out of him, some strings landing in his wide open mouth as he screamed Omega's name.

“Feeling too fucking good? Can't fucking wait for me?” Omega hissed. 

“Sí!” Terzo shouted, fucked so stupid he forgot how to speak English. 

“I'm gonna fucking breed you. Do you want to carry my kits? Do you?” Omega threatened, gripping his hips firmly. 

“Sí, sí, sí!” 

Omega was not far behind Terzo's orgasm. He pounded faster, grunting, nails digging into Terzo's back and belly, the latter constantly inflating and deflating with a bulge as his cock pumped in and out of him. In and out, in and out, all the way to the tip and slamming back in up to his balls. with a final, forceful thrust, he finished deep inside his mate with a harsh growl, making the bound man sob and jolt. 

Apart from Terzos sobs, they were silent and still once Omega finished. Omega huffed through clenched teeth, looking down at the dripping mess he made of his partner and the bed, covered in both of their cum. His eyes trailed up his abused body, claw marks and hickeys leading up to his still blinded eyes, his eyebrow muscles turning upright as his lip quivered. Omega tilted his head as he ever so gently pulled out, a flood of cum flowing after. Gently undoing Terzo's blindfold, Omega hummed in both satisfaction and concern at the look in Terzo's eyes. Glossy and fearful, but just the way Terzo had begged him to make him feel hours before. Omega smiled first, his grin contagious, forcing Terzo's lips to curl upwards. 

“Are you okay?” Omega asked softly, wiping drool from Terzo's face. Terzo nodded. 

“Sí… Sí… Yes…” he murmured. Omega reached up, unclipping his hand cuffs, kissing every claw mark and hickey as he moved down his body to release him from the spreader between his feet. Terzo peeled himself off the bed, body still shaking. 

“Come here,” Omega was speaking with such gentleness now, scooping Terzo up and sitting him down on a chair, “these sheets need to be cleaned.”

Terzo giggled, his voice raspy from all of his screaming. Omega tore off the sheets from the bed, tossing them in the laundry basket before putting his boxers back on. Then, he picked out a pair of pretty black panties, decorated with hearts and presented them to Terzo, as well as some comfy pajamas. Terzo blushed and took the clothing, getting himself dressed as Omega replaced the sheets and blanket on the bed. 

“You're sure I did not hurt you?” Omega asked, picking the tiny man up again and holding him. Terzo shook his head, exhausted. 

“You always fuck me perfect, amore… you never hurt me.” Terzo kissed Omega's cheek. Omega nuzzled his nose in the crook of his neck, kissing repeatedly, making Terzo giggle and try to push him away. When he did, Terzo gave the ghoul a shit eating grin. 

“What was that you said about ‘kits’?”

Omega blushed. 

[bananahkim]

❤️ 💛 💚

❤️Red Son

He always reminds me of one of my classmates from elementary school(due to his thick eyebrows, glasses, and short temper), so I guess his design was partially inspired by that classmate.

For some reason I’ve always headcanoned his skin color as tan, but he blushes a lot so he has that red tint on his face.

I thought it would be nice to give some patterns to her coat, as she comes from a very powerful family.

I tried to emphasize the blueish colors(violet, purple, and indigo) just a little bit. When people draw fire, they tend to focus on just a few colors like orange, red, or yellow when when in fact flames have a wide variety of colors, including blue. The cooler colors of Red Son’s design represents the more ‘unexpected’ side of them.

💛MK

MK has ‘rounder’ shapes than Red Son, reflecting his easygoing nature that contrasts Red Son’s impatient and short tempered personality.

His sneakers are important to him since he works as a delivery boy and has to run around a lot of places, even when he has his tuk-tuk.

I added some light blue to his original design because… well, because it looked pretty. It doesn’t clash with the yellow and red and makes his design more appealing in my opinion.

💚Mei

Mei is very affectionate and outgoing, that’s why she doesn’t have any sharp edges to her face and body.

But she’s very energetic and athletic as well, so I tried to draw her shoulders and legs like it had visible muscles. Her shoulders, the area that receives more focus than her legs, are covered with a soft jacket so the muscles aren’t that visible, but since she’s wearing tight white pants they can show the exact silhouette of her legs. That’s why her body looks so soft AND firm at the same time.

Despite being short and stocky I think she’d have a very light and graceful walk and a good sense of balance so I gave her some dainty sneakers with metal soles so she can literally kick ass.

[zeddpool]

Superbat Week 2024 - Day 3

Xenobio Extravaganza

A/B/O | Alien Biology | Kryptonian Diet

(I am a massive xenobiology nerd, you have no idea the monster you've unleashed)

So I’m perpetually annoyed by the fact that Kryptonians look exactly like humans, have the same blood colour as humans, are reproductively compatible with humans, etc. despite being from completely unrelated planets

So I thought, what if Kryptonians developed a very mild form of shapeshifting as some kind of survival mechanism

So Kryptonian children slowly but surely grow to almost exactly mimic the dominant species of whatever place they grew up, or, like, the species they were raised by

So a Kryptonian raised by Skrull or Vulcans or wtvr would grow up to look like those species instead

It’s not a perfect explanation but it’s the first one that’s made any sense to me

Anyway, the illustration is just more of my headcanons on what remaining Kryptonian traits Supes might have, written in the style of Anatomy of a Metahuman, ie I tried to write it like these were Bruce's notes

Text from the image under the cut

Kryptonians produce far more varied pigments than Humans, and as such have a wider variety of hair, eye, and even skin colours: Kal has blue-pigmented eyes and hair a similar iridescent black as ravens and crows

Vestigial pointed ears, though what the ancestral purpose was, I can only guess

Kryptonians seem to have some similar membrane to the Tapetum Lucidum, giving Kal far superior night vision, though it must make it difficult for Clark to have his picture taken with flash

Very prominent canine teeth, Kryptonian ancestors were definitely meat-eaters, and his teeth seem to be actual bone, unlike humans

As muscle mass can only increase through repeated micro-tearing and healing during regular and strenuous exercise, Kal doesn't actually have that much bulk since he'd have to bench press an aircraft carrier every other day to "get big"

Lack of nipples would indicate non-mammalian ancestry, but the presence of a belly-button suggests Kryptonians were a placental species. The only alternative would be that Kryptonians lay eggs, which is...

...I have seen this man knowingly and willingly consume metal multiple times. I have no idea what is going on in here, but I fear asking him if I could get in his guts could be misconstrued. (Here's what inspired this point!)

From my translations of some Kryptonian texts, their society had wildly different concepts of gender than Humans, as well as indications that there was a wide array of how their biological sex presented. Perhaps my theory about egg-laying isn't so far-fetched...

[silentglassbreak]

They say vampires and werewolves are enemies.. and all over the world they are usually at each others throats.. but Noah isn't at yours.. he's had a taste for you from the moment he met you.. He just can't get enough of you.. he keeps it secret from his family (coven/pack) until they find out... Your choice which side is which... I would prefer a happy ending but drama and and a sneaky smutty relationship would be awesome, hidden away trying to hide from their respective sides! How Noah's boys take it before they are EVENTUALLY accepting? Or.. does he leave because he prefers to go with his love?!? But yes, forbidden supernatural romance if you could? You are absolutely amazing!

Well, I already wrote Noah as a vampire so for the sake of variety…

After Writing Notes: So, I know this ask implied the reader, but my female character needed an identity. My apologies. Also...I'm sorry. Hope you enjoy!

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Smut, blood, violence, character death...It's a vampire/werewolf fic...and it's angsty. Fair warning.

Jaded

Her lips, painted cherry red, were parted so beautifully, her eyes fallen closed. My tongue licked a long stripe up her core, making her body shiver in excitement. I couldn't take my eyes off of her, fingers tangled in my hair as she pressed her hips against my face.

"Mm, that's it baby boy." Her back arched off of the armchair. "Just like that."

Following her instruction, I focused my attention on her clit, sucking down hard, humming into her. Her moans fell out of her mouth so softly, making her sound even more exquisite than she usually did.

"Ugh, if you keep up, I'm going to come."

I breathed out a laugh at that, pulling her thighs in closer, attaching myself to her.

"Baby, please. I need to feel you. I need you to fuck me."

It was tempting to ignore her, continuing my assault on her pussy, but her begging always did something to me. It was too good to resist.

I stood up, unbuckling my belt and opening the front of my slacks. Her hand reached up to palm at my erection over the fabric of my boxers. I placed a hand over hers, pressing it harder where I needed it, my eyes rolling back in my skull.

Her fingers found the opening, letting my cock free, and licked her lips. I had to lean down, placing a knee on the side of the chair, so I could line myself up to her, pressing in slowly. The feeling drew the most beautiful groan from her throat.

She was struggling to breathe through my thrusts, eyes wild and teeth bared.

I had almost forgot, but the desperation in her eyes reminded me.

Without interrupting my rhythm, I reached over to the table next to the chair, gripping the steel blade tight. Quickly, I swiped it over my pectoral muscle, opening a long, deep wound. Blood began pouring out, falling onto her face.

She hissed, mouth falling open, the first few drops landing directly on her tongue.

Her hands gripped my neck, pulling me down so she could bury her face in the blood streaming from my chest. Her lips wrapped tightly around the wound, her voice humming in pleasure and appreciation.

My hips snapped forward, the burning feeling on my skin just adding to the frenzy that I had began, my breathing becoming hoarse.

"I'm going to..." I ground my teeth together, trying to focus. "I'm going to fucking come."

She pulled back, lips covered in the viscous red fluid. "Come for me, baby. Come for me."

"Fuck." I pulled back, gripping my cock in my fist, pumping it over a few times before my release hit me, landing on her chest and stomach.

She smiled, my blood staining her bright white teeth. The look on her face was wild, and something about it pulled somewhere deep inside of me.

I collapsed on the chair next to her, pulling her up onto my lap. Her lips met mine, and I tasted the salty, metallic flavor on her tongue. I had grown accustomed to it, so it never bothered me.

We stayed there, breathing heavily and coming down from the high that we had been riding for the last hour.

She looked up at me, eyes tired and smirking. "Do you regret it?"

She asked me the same question every time. What had once been a serious ask had now become a joke between us.

Running a hand up her leg, I pressed my forehead against hers.

"Never."

“And what happens if they catch us?” Her finger was tracing down my jawline, goosebumps rising on the skin underneath.

I considered this, as I did every time her and I found each other again. What would happen?

I would be exiled at the very least. Banished to roam the hills alone for the rest of my pitiful existence…

But her? There was no chance that she would survive that. Jesse wouldn’t stop until her neck was on a stake, face mocking every last one of her Coven anytime they decided to come knocking…

The thought made me shudder, and I knew that she felt it.

“It’ll never happen, so there’s no sense in us stressing it.” She stood off of me, fleeting over to where her dress had been discarded a while before.

The house around us creaked, deep within the hollow, the only place we could truly be alone. Our safe haven was also so dark and damp, not an ideal setting for the blooming feeling we were spreading here every third night.

“But what if it does?” I leaned forward, balancing my elbows on my knees, and gazed up at her.

She smoothed her raven black hair down, placing it back into the clip effortlessly. Her teeth were back to their regular state, having been satiated plenty for the evening.

“Now, why would you go saying something silly like that?” She stood over me, leaning down, her chest nearly falling from over her corseted gown. Instinctively, I licked my lips, meeting her deep emerald irises.

“I have to.” Standing as well, now towering over her, and running a hand down her cheek. “One of us should.”

She waved a hand dismissively. “I disagree.” Her hands searched idly on the dark floor for her heels. “Now come, mi amor.” Slipping each shoe on, she held a hand out for me to follow her. “The festival will be starting soon, and we have to show face.”

I had already redressed, pulling my belt taut and my jacket on.

The Occult Festival was a tradition in our secluded town, attempting to desensitize the local people to what was happening all around them - right under their ignorant noses.

Like myself, her family had a large hand in the festivities put on throughout the weekend. Despite being long-standing rivals, we got to play nice for these next forty-eight hours. For optics, of course.

“Luna?” I stopped her after we stepped out of the crumbling building, now out in the open where safety was always an issue.

Her fingers squeezed mine as she looked at me. “Yes?”

Calming my racing heart, I sighed, doing my best to communicate my emotions into my grip on her.

“I love you.”

She let her lips pull up gently, a breath releasing.

“Te quiero más, amante.”

-

“Noah!” I turned my head, seeing Nick jogging up to me. I was loading the last of the festival supplies into the back of Jolly’s truck, ready to be taken back to storage.

“What’s up, man?”

The look on his face concerned me, so I stood at my full attention. “Jesse wants to see you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “For…?”

“I don’t know, dude. Just mentioned to ask you to come to the house after we finished here.”

I groaned, leaning on the tailgate. “He’s going to bug me about the ‘mate’ thing again.” I rubbed my eyes with my hands.

Nick mirrored my stance, bumping shoulders with me.

“Is it so bad? He just wants you to find someone.”

I eyed him knowingly. “He wants me to find a mate to procreate with…” This made Nick chuckle. “It’s archaic, dude. This is the twenty-first century. We don’t need to arrange relationships to insure the pack doesn’t die out.”

Nick nodded. “I agree, brother, but he’s not going to let it go. You’re the only one of the Epsilon who haven’t mated yet.”

“And I shouldn’t have to! I’m a warrior, not a fucking breeder.”

He winced at that. “C’mon, Noah. You know we don’t call them that anymore.”

I shrugged, turning to lock the tailgate. “Might as fucking well. That’s what it is.”

Stalking through the front door, I let it slam heavily behind me. I walked through the large estate, feet pounding on the hardwood floors. I could already smell the food, so I made my way to the kitchen, hoping to find Jesse there.

As my instincts would have it, he stood at the stove, towel hung over his shoulder, stirring something in a pot. I cleared my throat, making my presence known, hands folded in front of me.

“Noah, you don’t have to be so stoic.” Jesse chuckled, not even turning to look at me. “Relax a little, huh?”

I stepped further into the room, sighing, and leaning a hip against the island.

“You wanted to see me?”

He turned, tasting something on the end of his spoon. “I did.” He nodded in satisfaction, wiping his hand on the towel before looking directly at me.

“How was the festival?”

I nodded smugly. “Boring. Flawless. Same as every year.”

He smiled warmly. It was a joke of an expression.

“That’s good, I’m glad to hear it.” He moved around the island, moving to walk past me. “Follow me?”

I did as I was told, and as we passed the dining room, he waved to his wife, who was setting the table.

“Dinner in ten, Amelia!” She smiled brightly at him.

We walked into his office, him locking the door behind us.

“Noah, I need to show you something.”

He stepped behind the large oak desk, unlocked a drawer with a key kept on the ring in his pocket. He slipped out an envelope, and handed it to me.

I inspected it, getting a whiff of the sour, rusted smell of blood.

We only got correspondence in blood from one place…

“Open it.”

Robotically and carefully, I pulled the page from it's place in the envelope, noting the thinly written scripture.

‘I only have so much patience, dog. I will not tolerate any reckless endangerment to my Coven. Keep your boys in line, or I’ll make sure to send them back to you in pieces.

Condolencias,

Señora

“And what happens if they catch us?” Her finger was tracing down my jawline, goosebumps rising on the skin underneath.

I considered this, as I did every time her and I found each other again. What would happen?

I would be exiled at the very least. Banished to roam the hills alone for the rest of my pitiful existence…

But her? There was no chance that she would survive that. Jesse wouldn’t stop until her neck was on a stake, face mocking every last one of her coven anytime they decided to come knocking…

The thought made me shudder, and I knew that she felt it.

“It’ll never happen, so there’s no sense in us stressing it.” She stood off of me, flowing over to where her dress had been discarded hours before.

The house around us creaked, deep within the hollow, the only place we could truly be alone. Our safe haven was also so dark and damp, not an ideal setting for the blooming feeling we were spreading here every third night.

“But what if it does?” I leaned forward, balancing my elbows on my knees, and gazed up at her.

She smoothed her raven black hair down, placing it back into the clip effortlessly. Her teeth were back to their regular state, having been satiated plenty for the evening.

“Now, why would you go saying something silly like that?” She stood over me, leaning down, her chest nearly falling from over her corseted gown. Instinctively, I licked my lips, meeting her deep emerald irises.

“I have to.” Standing as well, now towering over her, and running a hand down her cheek. “One of us should.”

She waved a hand dismissively. “I disagree.” Her hands searched idly on the dark floor for her heels. “Now come, mi amor.” Slipping each shoe on, she held a hand out for me to follow her. “The festival will be starting soon, and we have to show face.”

I had already redressed, pulling my belt taut and my jacket on.

The Occult Festival was a tradition in our secluded town, attempting to desensitize the local people to what was happening all around them - right under their ignorant noses.

Like myself, her family had a large hand in the festivities out on throughout the weekend. Despite being long-standing rivals, we got to play nice for these next forty-eight hours. For optics, of course.

“Luna?” I stopped her after we stepped out of the crumbling building, now out in the open where safety was always an issue.

Her fingers squeezed mine as she looked at me. “Yes?”

Calming my racing heart, I sighed, doing my best to communicate my emotions into my grip on her.

“I love you.”

She let her lips pull up gently, a breath releasing.

“Te quiero más, amante.”

-

“Noah!” I turned my head, seeing Nick jogging up to me. I was loading the last of the festival supplies into the back of Jolly’s truck, ready to be taken back to storage.

“What’s up, man?”

The look on his face concerned me, so I stood at my full attention. “Jesse wants to see you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “For…?”

“I don’t know, dude. Just mentioned to ask you to come to the house after we finished here.”

I groaned, leaning on the tailgate. “He’s going to bug me about the ‘mate’ thing again.” I rubbed my eyes with my hands.

Nick mirrored my stance, bumping shoulders with me.

“Is it so bad? He just wants you to find someone.”

I eyed him knowingly. “He wants me to find a mate to procreate with…” This made Nick chuckle. “It’s archaic, dude. This is the twenty-first century. We don’t need to arrange relationships to insure the pack doesn’t die out.”

Nick nodded. “I agree, brother, but he’s not going to let it go. You’re the only one of the Epsilon who haven’t mated yet.”

“And I shouldn’t have to! I’m a warrior, not a fucking breeder.”

He winced at that. “C’mon, Noah. You know we don’t call them that anymore.”

I shrugged, turning to lock the tailgate. “Might as fucking well. That’s what it is.”

Stalking through the front door, I let it slam heavily behind me. I walked through the large estate, feet pounding on the hardwood floors. I could already smell the food, so I made my way to the kitchen, hoping to find Jesse there.

As my instincts would have it, he stood at the stove, towel hung over his shoulder, stirring something in a pot. I cleared my throat, making my presence known, hands folded in front of me.

“Noah, you don’t have to be so stoic.” Jesse chuckled, not even turning to look at me. “Relax a little, huh?”

I stepped further into the room, sighing, and leaning a hip against the island.

“You wanted to see me?”

He turned, tasting something on the end of his spoon. “I did.” He nodded in satisfaction, wiping his hand on the towel before looking directly at me.

“How was the festival?”

I nodded smugly. “Boring. Flawless. Same as every year.”

He smiled warmly. It was a joke of an expression.

“That’s good, I’m glad to hear it.” He moved around the island, moving to walk past me. “Follow me?”

I did as I was told, and as we passed the dining room, he waved to his wife, who was setting the table.

“Dinner in ten Amelia!” She smiled brightly at him.

We walked into his office, him locking the door behind us.

“Noah, I need to show you something.”

He stepped behind the large oak desk, unlocked a drawer with a key kept on the ring in his pocket. He slipped out an envelope, and handed it to me.

I inspected it, getting a whiff of the sour, rusted smell of blood.

We only got correspondence in blood from one place…

“Open it.”

Robotically and carefully, I pulled the page from it's place in the envelope, noting the thinly written scripture.

‘I only have so much patience, dog. I will not tolerate any reckless endangerment to my Coven. Keep your boys in line, or I’ll make sure to send them back to you in pieces.

Condolencias,

Señora Ladrón’

My hands wanted to tremble, but my self control held them in place, maintaining my composure. I looked up at Jesse.

“When did you receive this?”

“Yesterday at midnight.” He chewed his lip. “Any ideas?”

Shaking my head, I slipped the message back into the envelope. “Someone has been fucking with the Coven?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Fucking with, or…”

I nodded, understanding what he was insinuating.

“I have no idea which of our brothers could be that stupid. I’ve gone over it so many times. I can’t imagine the Ladrón family take lightly to intermingling species.” He rolled his eyes. “I would bet it’s Luna. She’s always been a bit of a whore.”

My spine twitched, but I held steady.

“We need to get ahead of this, Noah. We don’t need this kind of heat.”

“I understand.” I dropped the parcel down onto his desk, straightening my back and maintaining eye contact with my Alpha.

He shrugged, coming to stand in front of me. “I would feel a lot better if you would choose a mate already.”

I couldn’t hide the eye roll. “Why is that?”

He lowered his gaze, making my head bow instinctively. “You know why.” He stepped closer. “The vampires have us outnumbered. If they decide our existence is no longer necessary, then they have a hell of an advantage over us.”

I didn’t speak.

“And you running rogue, refusing to fall in line doesn’t exactly look good for us, does it?” His voice was so deadly, it made my skin crawl.

“No, sir.” I answered obediently.

His hand clapped my shoulder, indicating I was free of my submission.

“Do some research on this. Report back to me by Friday with what you’ve found.” I nodded, turning toward the door for my exit.

“Noah?” I turned my head, hand placed on the doorknob. “Don’t fuck this up.”

-

Her phone was going straight to voicemail for the eighth time, and I snarled, throwing my phone across the room. It landed hard on the floor after bouncing off of the wall. I fell down onto my bed, hands tightening in my hair and pulling.

How could this have happened? We had been so careful. Our meetup spot was far enough out of town that neither her family nor mine would ever stray far enough to pick up on our scent. It didn't make any sense.

She knew better than to tell anyone about our secret meetings, let alone anyone in her family. I never left my scent on her, ensuring to keep my hormones in check while I was with her. I knew her mother could smell a wolf from miles away, but I'd never take that kind of a risk.

I would wait a full forty-eight hours to phase prior to seeing her, that way the lingering smell of my blood would wash away after she fed. We had the perfect system, taking the time to plan it over and over before actually meeting for the first time.

It had been a year that Luna and I had been seeing each other. I knew it wasn't right, going against every force of nature that existed. I couldn't help it. She was different. She wasn't like any other vampire I had ever met.

I let her drink from me only days after we slept together the first time, knowing full well that we would be connected deeply once she had. She was mine, and I would never be able to let her go. She understood me. She didn't see me as the Epsilon leader, or a member of the pack. She saw me for who I was...a man.

Frustrated and wired, I opened my bedroom door, barreling through the house. "Whoa, where's the fire?"

Nick's voice made me stop, my shoulders tensing. I turned to see him at the end of the hallway, staring at me inquisitively. I glared at him, and he narrowed his eyes.

"What's going on?"

Continuing my path toward the door, I heard him following me. I didn't answer his question, choosing to brush past it.

"Noah!" His hand caught my shoulder, and I slapped it away, turning around, getting inches from his face.

"Back off, Nick!" My voice was booming, my chest puffing. Nick didn't back down, one of the few pack members who wasn't afraid of me.

"Fuck that, Noah! Something's going on. You've been in your room pacing for fucking hours!"

I took a step back. "I've got to be somewhere."

He followed after me. "Where could you possibly need to be at midnight? We don't have patrol tonight."

"I need to fucking think, okay?"

I opened the door, but stopped when I heard his voice behind me.

"Are you going to see Luna?"

My blood ran cold, and my pupils blew wide. Without thought, I rushed him, pressing him against the wall with a forearm to his throat.

"What did you say?" Is this how I was found out? Did my brother actually rat on me? To the vampires, no less?

"I know about you two. I have for a while." His hands were clawing at my arm as he struggled under my hold. "I didn't tell Jesse, man. I didn't tell anyone."

Searching his face, I saw his eyes shining. He was being honest.

I dropped him from the wall, and he took a moment to choke out a breath. "How do you know?"

He stared at me, disbelief in his eyes. "Jesse ordered me to follow you. Three weeks ago."

My eyes widened.

"He wanted to know where you would disappear to for days at a time."

I raised my eyebrows. "And?"

He looked at me incredulously, as if I had the nerve. "And..." He scoffed. "I found you and her going into the hollow, at the old Berringer place." My chest heaved, heart threatening to burst out of my chest. "I didn't tell anyone."

"Why?"

He rubbed his neck, moving to sit down on the couch in the living room. "Because you're my brother?"

Taking a breath, exhaling through my nose, I forced myself to calm down.

"Noah, I'd never tell anyone about you two, but you have to know that what you're doing is dangerous." He shook his head. "If the Coven finds out about you two?"

I hissed, turning my head. "I know, Nick."

He sat back, arm falling over the back of the couch. "That's not even mentioning what Jesse would do."

Letting my head fall back, I chuckled. "I don't care about Jesse. So what if he exiles me?"

Nick's face fell, a shocked expression on his face. "Is that what you think?"

I scrubbed a hand over my face. "That's what he did to Folio when he fell in love with that one girl. The one from California?"

Nick stood then, hands balled into fists. "That was a human he mated with, Noah." His hands came up to grab my arms, working to get my full attention. "Luna isn't human, dude. She's a fucking vampire."

He dropped his arms then. "And not just any vampire. She's the Countess' daughter!"

Hearing the words out loud put a new perspective on this.

"You think Jesse would have me killed?" My tone was even.

Nick shrugged. "I don't know, man. But if it meant keeping the peace with the Ladróns? I don't think there's a lot he wouldn't do."

I growled, squeezing my eyes closed. "I need to talk to her. Maybe she'll want to leave with me."

Nick took a few careful steps away from me, bewildered. "What?"

"I've thought it out, and that's the only way. We'd have to go far, as far as we can. Maybe South America, or Asia?"

"Noah," He ran a worried hand through his hair. "you're not actually considering leaving your entire pack for a vampire, are you?"

I grit my teeth, a warning. "She's not just a vampire, Nick." Exhaling a breath, I tried to keep my voice calm. "I love her."

"You can't just leave, Noah! The pack needs you!"

"For what?! To ward off rival packs? To keep the fucking vampires at bay?! Jesse's got you and the rest of his good ol' boys to do that."

I could see the offense on Nick's face, but he ignored it.

"Have you let her drink from you?"

I wasn't expecting that. To be fair, it was a pretty vital question.

"She hasn't bit me."

"So she hasn't tasted your blood?"

I was silent, not able to maintain eye contact with him. I could tell he was pissed off now.

"God damn it, dude! You know what that means!" He shoved a hand into my chest, knocking me a few steps back.

"I do."

"And you're okay with that?"

"Wouldn't have let her if I wasn't."

Sucking his teeth, he moved away from the doorway he had been blocking, waving his arm toward the exit.

"Well, fine then." He turned the knob, opening the door for me to leave. "Go for it, Noah. Abandon everyone who loves and cares about you for a bloodsucking tramp who will probably double-cross you anyway."

Ticking my jaw, I shot daggers at him. "That's enough, Nick."

"No! No it's not! I'm your brother, Noah! I have been since we were five years old! And you're just going to run away with her? You decided to mate with her? You didn't even tell me!"

"I couldn't tell you!"

"Why?! Afraid I'd tell Jesse? Well, I fucking didn't! So what the fuck?!"

He was right. Nick was the closest thing I had ever had to actual blood. I was always alone, from the time I was a child. His family raised me, took care of me since my parents died. I owed him more than this.

"Nick..." I stared up at him. "I love her. I don't know what else to do."

It took a moment, but I saw the rage calming in his eyes. He moved, standing a foot away from the open entryway, and motioned again.

"Then go. But if you do? You can't come back. I hope you know what you're doing, Noah."

-

I ran, full speed, as fast as I could, through the moss and the trees, the only light catching around me was the harsh white moonlight. The ground was wet and soft under my feet, making the worst squelching sound when I finally halted. The scent came strong in my nostrils. I was exactly two miles from the Ladrón estate, the gates less than two hundred feet away.

I padded silently up to the fence, my pitch black fur blending into the forest around me. I could smell her from where I stood, but she wasn't inside. Her scent wasn't close enough, and I didn't know where she was, but I could feel her.

Once mated, Luna and I had formed the kind of bond that didn't require words or regular communication. We could feel each other's souls from sometimes miles away. I needed to find her.

I continued to trek through the woods, heading closer to the town, but keeping far enough from the highway so as not to be spotted. Her scent picked up closer to the hollow, so I followed our usual trail. She took a hard left off of the path, and I tracked her all the way to the lake.

Mostly overgrown and abandoned, I stopped and watched as I saw her sitting on the pier, cross-legged and hunched over staring into the water.

Taking a moment to form back into myself, I slipped the clothes I carried with me on, and walked toward her.

She knew I was there, she had to. Even from several yards away, I could hear her soft cries.

"Luna?"

Her head snapped up, and she looked at me. I caught the sight of her blood covering her right cheek, and broke out in a run, falling to my knees in front of her.

"What happened?" I inspected the large laceration, wincing at the depth of it. Someone had done a number on her.

"My mother-" Her voice cracked, her hands reaching up to hold my arms. "She knew I was hiding something." Her entire body was shaking, and I pulled her close to me.

After a moment, she finally continued. "She had her men..." Her entire body trembled. "Noah, they did such awful things."

I squeezed her tight, my rage hardening inside of me. "They found out I was mated."

"Okay, it's okay."

She pulled back, tears falling, mixing with the blood on her face. "No it's not! She said she wanted a name, or she'd have the entire pack slaughtered!"

"Did you tell her it was me?"

Her eyes pleaded with me. "I had to. I didn't know what to do." She pressed her face into my chest. "Noah, please, I'm so sorry. Please."

Petting her hair, soothing her, I hummed in her ear. "It's okay, baby. I've got you. No one's going to find us."

Her eyes looked up at me, green shining as bright as stone, like the night sky over the water. "They won't?"

Sitting completely, I pulled her into my lap, rocking us gently back and forth. "We'll leave, tonight. We'll get out of here, and they'll never see us again, okay? They won't find us, Luna. I promise."

Her arms pulled around me tight, nearly crushing my rib cage.

"Noah," I looked down at her. "They drained so much from me. I can't run. Not right now. I barely made it here."

I pursed my lips. "What if you fed?"

She shook her head. "It's not enough. I have to rest, or I'll never get anywhere. I'll just slow us down."

Nodding, I held her close.

"Were you followed?"

"I don't think so. I doubt they even realized I'm gone yet."

I moved to stand, pulling her with me. "Alright, we'll wait it out until morning. Then, we're gone."

Luna stared directly up at me, trusting me with every fiber of her being. I guided us up the pier, back into the darkened woods toward our safe haven in the hollow.

-

The sound woke me before her hands on my shoulders did.

"Noah! Someone's here!"

My eyes snapped open, and I sat upright, pulling her protectively toward me. We had fallen asleep only a few hours before, tucked in the bedroom of the condemned house we had learned to call home more than our own. I could feel her shaking in my grasp, my hands doing my best to steady her.

My senses were disillusioned. Someone had blocked the scent outside, which was never a good thing.

"Come on out you two. We don't want to come in after you." A voice called from outside. I recognized it anywhere.

Jesse.

I was frozen, unable to comprehend it. How had he found us? Nick hadn't told them. He wouldn't. Were we followed?

"Noah..." His voice was stern now, stricken with authority. "Now."

My breath shook, and I looked at her. "Noah." Her lip was trembling. "We have to go out there."

Closing my eyes, I gripped her wrists, looking at her dead on. "Stay here."

"What?"

"Luna, stay here. No matter what happens. Just stay inside."

Her tears were forming again. "Noah, you can't. If they hurt you-"

"They will." I swallowed hard. "You have to stay here."

She shook her head, now fully sobbing. "Please, Noah. Don't. Let's just run! I might be strong enough now."

"No. We'll never make it." My eyes scanned the house. "They'll get us before we even make it out of the house."

Biting my lip, I gripped her face, pressing my forehead to hers.

"I love you, Luna."

She grabbed my hands, breathing heavily. "I love you, Noah."

I stood, then, taking a deep breath and straightening my shoulders. My feet felt loud walking to the door, and I mentally willed myself to open it, peering out into the pitch black woods.

Just below the front porch, Jesse, surrounded by the remainder of the Epsilon stood, a small fire built in front of them. I sighed, dropping down the steps.

"What do you want, Jesse?"

My eyes scanned across the entire pack, noticing Nick standing just to Jesse's left flank. His hands were tucked neatly behind his back, as studious as ever.

"Huh," Jesse looked at me through curious eyes. "is that any way to address your Alpha, Noah?"

Tightening my jaw, I took a step toward him. "You've obviously found me out."

He nodded, moving toward me, hands in his pants pockets. "That, I have."

"How?"

Smirking, he let out a small snicker. "Well, your little girlfriend wasn't hard to follow."

I narrowed my eyes. "You're not supposed to hunt the Coven. It's against the laws."

He rubbed a hand over his mouth, scratching at his beard. "You're right, I'm not. However," His eyes bounced around behind me, looking at something over my shoulder. "I wasn't the one who followed her."

Hearing it before I could turn around, the sound of feet racing into the door caught my attention. My body whipped back toward the house, but before I could run, heavy hands had my arms and shoulders, holding me firmly in place.

I turned to see Jolly and Matt on either side of me, faces unwavering.

"No!" I barked at them. "Don't! Let me go!"

"Noah, you really should just let this happen. You brought it on yourself."

The shrill sound of Luna's screams ripped through the darkness, and I watched as two large, bulky men dragged her forward from the doorway, hands on her arms. She thrashed in their grip.

"Let me go, cabrón!" Her hair whipped around violently as she fought against them. "Te mataré! Mataré a tu familia!" She cursed them, but they were unwavering, pulling her.

"Mija." The ice cold voice made us both stop, and I craned my neck to look behind me.

The tall, slender figure stood, only a foot to the right of Jesse, eyes dark as night, piercing into mine.

"Mama..." Luna's voice faltered, the men throwing her to the ground onto her knees.

"How could you disappoint me this way?" Her mother, the leader of the Coven, shook her head in disapproval. "I knew you were stupid, but I didn't realize you were quite this idiotic."

Her voice held no empathy. No emotion.

"Mama, you have to understand-" She pleaded with her mother, but was silenced when she lifted a hand between them.

"Enough." Her eyes turned to Jesse, then. "Tell me, wolf," She then glared at me, piercing daggers. "give me one good reason why I shouldn't wipe out your entire pack right now?"

He sucked his teeth, sighing heavily. "I won't lie, Señora, this is a shock to us all." He stared back at me. "Noah is one of our best, so it's a shame."

"You know what I demand to make this right."

His eyes fell, his shoulders rounding. "Is there nothing else I can do to atone?"

Answering with her gaze, he nodded. She wanted me dead, I could feel it.

"Mama, no! Don't!" I felt the arms holding me pressing me forward, closer to the fire, and pushing me down onto my knees. "He didn't do anything! He's innocent!"

"Silencio! I will deal with you back at home!"

I was silent, having long accepted this was my fate. As long as Luna survived, that was all I cared about.

"Please!" Her voice was screaming, breaking with each word. "You're wrong! You can't do this!"

Señora Ladrón approached me, skin white as the moon overhead. It wasn't until she was less than a foot away that I saw the shining blade in her hand. Silver.

Closing my eyes, I relaxed, taking a deep breath.

This was okay. I never belonged here, on this Earth. I was put here in a pack that never understood me. Never believed in me. I was an outcast amongst misfits; if only I hadn't been so lucky.

And to make matters worse, the only woman I could connect with, feeling any depth for, was a fucking vampire. A cosmic joke, my life truly was.

Thank goodness it was ending, that way I didn't have to fuck it up anymore.

"Alpha, stop."

The words rang through the impending silence, and my eyes cracked open.

I saw the hand on Jesse's shoulder, and my stomach sank.

"Nick? What is it?"

No. No. No.

"I have to confess." The woods were deadly quiet, all noise ceasing in that second.

"Yes?"

All eyes fell on my brother, and I felt my body beginning to shake.

"Noah is innocent." My jaw fell open, arms pulling against the hands on me. "He was hiding Luna for me."

My eyes flashed to Luna, who looked as stunned as I did, still sat on her knees in the dirt.

"Don't, Nick!" I called, but I was silenced by a harsh slap to the back of my skull, credit of Jolly.

"We're in love. We have been for months."

"Stop!" A fist landed on my jaw, trying to silence me. It wouldn't work. "He's lying!"

"Noah, I won't let you die for me!" He called to me, and I begged him with my eyes. "I asked Noah to get Luna to safety, and I would meet them in the morning. We were going to run away."

The tall, treacherous Countess stared down at me, and then at Luna. "Mija? Is this true?"

I could see the shock in her eyes, incapable of speaking. The tears flowed down her face.

"Luna!" I screeched at her. "Tell them he's lying!"

After a split second, her eyes flashed to me, and I swore I saw an apology.

"No!" I fought against the hands holding me. "No! Nick, no!"

Jesse's head fell, sighing heavily. His hands grabbed Nick's shoulders, gripping them firmly. "You're sure?"

He knew. He had to have. Nick would never...

But he was met with a curt nod, his deep brown eyes landing on the approaching vampires, now circling him.

Jesse just stepped back, shrugging his shoulders, and closed his eyes.

"No!" I pulled and fought, but I was caught in a death grip. "Nick! Please! No!"

I turned to face the Alpha, pleading. "Jesse! You know he didn't do it! Please! Don't let them-"

But before I could finish, I saw the shine of the blade, a stun on Nick's face, and after that all I saw was deep, flowing blood...

The woods were so still, the only movement was his body falling to the ground.

"NO!" My voice crested, chest roaring to life. "Nick!" I finally managed to break loose from the hands that held me, but it was too late.

My hands grabbed his head, cradling him in my lap, his life pouring out over me. His eyes were still open, a cold, dead stare looking back at me.

That's what he was...

My brother was dead.

Hunching over him, my body shook, hard cries ripping through me. My hands stroked his hair, staring into him.

"Please." I pulled at the hair on his scalp. "Please, wake up. Please don't do this to me."

It was useless. He was gone.

"Come. We have other matters to deal with."

My eyes shot up, watching as the men from before grabbed Luna, dragging her into the forest. She screamed and fought, but I wasn't prepared to save her.

Not now...

"Noah?" The voice that called me was foreign to me now, no Alpha of mine.

I only looked at him, not allowing him to meet me face-to-face. I refused to leave my brother on the ground.

"Your involvement in all of this," He gestured to the body in my arms. "for the death of your brother," I snarled, warning. "it's grounds for exile."

Not feeling a response was warranted, I only elected to gather enough blood from my busted lip on my tongue, spitting at his feet.

He cackled, crouching down next to me. "I don't want to see you around here again, got it? If I do, I'll make sure you don't worm your way out of it again."

And before I could spit directly into his face, he was gone. They all were. Just ghosts in the night.

I was left, alone, with what was left of my brother, and the glow of the fire bouncing off of the trees.

The only sound that filled the night then were my harsh, broken screams.

[batwritings]

Kinktober Day 21 - Somnophilia

Another hyper fixation I had a fling with has to do with um..a Latino Spider-man. >///> Don't look at me, he's got nice...features....*cough* Enjoy!~

Warning! This work does contain pre-agreed to (although never directly stated) consensual non-consent! If that is not something you're okay with, please do not read! Thank you!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Never in your life had you seen someone work as hard as Miguel did. You knew, of course, why he did what he did. The multiverse was a serious thing, and despite not being part of the Spider Society, you knew why it needed the protection it had. 

Not that it wasn’t important, you do wish Miguel would give himself a break once in a while. It hurt you to see the man you loved so dear make it back to your shared home looking like he was about to drop to the ground. Yet no matter how much you argued with him about it, he never relented. 

You even consulted Lyla about it one night when Miguel wasn’t in earshot. “You can’t just…lace the Rapture or something?” you asked, voice hushed. “Slip some melatonin in there or something to get him to just…relax for a second?” 

“Sorry hun,” Lyla told you, the AI sighing heavily in her own electronic way. “I wish I could.” You flopped back against your shared bed at that answer.

Upon wandering through the halls of the society that day, you hadn’t expected anything different. You waved and said hello to a variety of different Peter Parkers and Spider-Mans alike. They knew you pretty well by now, seeing how often you brought food by Miguel’s office to be sure he was actually eating. Sometimes they’d keep you company while you waited for him to return.

The door opened slowly, and you expected the pedestal to lower with your super-powered lover atop it. “Miguel, I brought your favorite by,” you called. Yet as the chair he sat at turned around, you caught a sight that was beyond rare. 

Head held up by his fist, Spiderman-2099 was out like an absolute light. You sighed quietly as you set the food down and approached him, doing your best to mute your footsteps. Once you were on the pedestal, you felt it begin to raise and panicked slightly.

Lyla appeared out of thin air, hushing you. You smiled in relief, settling yourself on the metal flooring between Miguel’s legs. “Yeah, you might not want to sit there sweetheart,” the AI told you quietly. When you gave her a questioning look, she points to the area of your lover’s crotch.

Even his spider suit did nothing to conceal the bulge growing beneath the synthetic cloth. You blushed a little, peeking your head around the chair to see if anyone else had entered with you. Upon realizing you were alone, you put your hand gently on the man’s inner thigh.

“You’re so worked up love,” you whispered, caressing the skin their. You watched with a knowing look as pixels slowly dissipated to reveal his prominent erection. You weren’t going to question though, taking your lover’s member in your hand and pumping slowly. “You need to relax more.”

Miguel made a soft noise in his slumbering state, but otherwise showed no signs of waking. Perfect. You did your best to be slow and quiet, licking a line up the shaft before swirling your tongue around the head. With enough saliva built up, you slid your way down, bobbing your head at a snail’s pace. You wanted this to be pleasurable for him, not a rude awakening.

And so far, it was. On the occasion, your love would buck his hips up, especially when your tongue swiped over a few specific veins. You did your best not to gag too harshly, tucking your thumb into your fist and holding it tightly.

Every once in a while you would hear him mumble something in Spanish or even your name, which you took as a good sign. One hand you kept on his thigh, massaging the muscles there. The other took to stroking his shaft where you couldn’t quite reach. You had your lover as covered as the multiverse ever would be.

You knew he was close when the little noises got to be more and more frequent. You focused your attention on the head of his cock, laving your tongue over the slit. “Mi amor,” you heard as cum began to hit your tongue and cheek. Miguel groaned softly as he came, hips rising off his chair.

The sound of the door opening caught your attention, causing you to panic. You’re not too sure what made the pedestal remain so still, but your blood was running cold regardless. “I’ll be with you in a minute,” came Miguel’s voice, sounding as cool and calm as ever. 

You looked up only to be met with those tired ruby eyes you adored so much. Once the door shut, your hero bent forward a bit as he thumbed the cum from your cheek. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before sitting up straight again.

“Thank you for the respite cariño. Now let me get back to work.”

[whumpisgoodwhumpislife]

The device

Masterlist

This chapter is why I started this series. It hasn't left my mind since I've read this by @sowhumpshaped ! This writer has a very unique style, I absolutely love it

CW : lab whump, living battery whumpee, nonsexual nudity, needles, kinda medical whump.

First, they removed the tubes and IVs from his body. They had drawn little crosses everywhere one was supposed to be, and his arms were littered in black ink. Erik would've protested, ask what it was for if he could, but the thick plastic mask was still snuggly fitted over and inside his mouth and nose.

When they started removing the heavy metal straps tethering him to the medical table, he hoped he could try to make a run for it, but as soon as he tried to stand, his knees buckled under him and he collapsed. Erik's breathing started accelerating as he tried to push himself up. His efforts were pathetic; it was as if his muscles had turned to jelly. He was exhausted.

Two orderlies grabbed him under his arms and started dragging him away. He tried to struggle, but his body barely twitched in their grasp.

Erik was led through another sterile, white corridor, escorted by several men in white coats, and a few in fluorescent orange vests.

"Extraction device" they said. It couldn't mean anything good for him. They had managed to find a way to leech his energy out of his body, and to use it for their own purpose. And that process was agonizing, leaving him barely able to move.

They entered another room, bigger, with a higher ceiling. It was filled with various equipment, reminiscent more of the interior of a spaceship than a laboratory. And in the center, there was a tall, transparent cylinder that spanned the entire height of the room. And it was empty.

Erik whimpered through his mask, immediately understanding what it was for.

The orderlies dropped him next to it and he squirmed, desperately trying to crawl away. But they held him still, as the researchers began to insert needles, IVs, tubes in the places marked by the little crosses. Two others were attached to his mask, and as he breathed in, the air tasted bitter, like chemicals.

He was still completely undressed, vulnerable, but it was the least of his worries right now. The people in flashy orange jackets were working around the electrical consoles, to which he was now connected by a variety of cables. One of the scientists nodded, and the orderlies hoisted Erik to his feet, dragging him inside the translucent cylinder. The wall spun around, and closed on him without leaving a trace, sealing him inside of the tank. He tried to bang against the wall, but whatever it was made of, it was resistant.

Erik grabbed one of the IVs on his left arm and tried to rip it away, but it just burned. It was as if the needle was fused inside his skin.

His hands shaking from the strain, still recovering from his previous ordeal, he tried every tube, every cable, but they all held fast. His mask as well.

He pressed his hands against the glass. He could see the scientists working outside of his cylinder, in a flurry of activities. Then, a loud thudding noise echoed in the cramped space, making him wince and cover his ears.

And the grid at his feet started sputtering a thick yellowish liquid. The level rose quickly, from his feet to his knees, to his hips, to his chest. Erik was hyperventilating in the mask, banging feebly against the walls as the chemical solution slowly lifted him. It was denser than water, and when it reached the top of the tank, it left Erik suspended in the middle of it, squirming as a cloud of bubbles escaped his mask at regular intervals.

Helpless, like a fish in a tank.

Taglist : @sausages-things @jumpywhumpywriter @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @thataquaticwhumper @alyscat

@whatamidoingherehelpme @fleur-a-whump @ratsupremacy88