#then ask you why you have such useless fangs.

[angelxd-3303]

Something, something, monsters not understanding/learning about humans.

Just some doodles but I thought they were kinda cute.

[sleepy-kuroo]

and i want it back, i want the old me.

Miguel O’Hara x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1072

A/N: Prequel to this. Angst, implied!established relationship, argument. Will not be doing another part so please don’t ask.

You storm into Miguel’s office, furious after having caught wind from Peter B. and Gwen about the chase with Miles. You were away on a separate mission at the time and weren’t there for the whole ordeal but you heard the general gist from your two friends. It’s dark in Miguel’s office as he stands atop his platform, staring at his monitors with his back turned as usual. “Miguel!” You yell, anger spilling out of every pore of your body.

Miguel simply sighs in annoyance at hearing your voice, turning around in obvious frustration. “Whatever you’re going to say…just don’t,” he threatens, his voice bitter and exhausted.

“Don’t?! DON’T?!” you laugh, outraged at his words and the audacity to dismiss you. “Tell me Miguel…what exactly went through your mind as you violently chased a 15 year old boy and told him he was a mistake?!” You were shaking at this point, voice trembling as you let out all your rage towards the man above you.

“He’s not supposed to be Spider-Man, he’s an anomaly! A threat to his universe!” Miguel raises his voice, dripping with anger.

“And you think he asked for this? You think he asked to be bitten by some spider that was never supposed to be in his universe? There has got to be a better way of handling this than by treating him like some monster.”

“YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING!” Miguel bursts, jumping off his platform to loom over your form. He gets close to your face, baring his fangs and eyes red with fury. “Don’t lecture me when I’m the only one keeping things together. I’ll be damned if I let some stupid kid ruin it all.”

You flinch slightly, his large stature appearing very threatening. Nonetheless, you glare back at Miguel, refusing to step down. “I understand how important your job is but this is not the way to do it,” you say, clenching your jaw. “I know you’re angry at Miles but of course he’s going to want to save his dad. He shouldn’t be punished for that.”

“Being Spider-Man is about making sacrifices.” Miguel begins to lecture. “And if he can’t accept that then he puts his whole universe at risk.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, looking around in disbelief at his words. You cross your arms and tilt your head at him. “Is that all you think being Spider-Man is about? Deal with sacrifices and just accept that?! Have you really forgotten why we do what we’re supposed to do?” You yell, waving your finger back and forth between him and yourself.

“Save me your useless lecture and just stay out of the way (Y/n),” Miguel rolls his eyes, moving to turn away from you.

“No Miguel, I’m sick and tired of you never taking me seriously,” you quip, webbing his feet to the ground. You move to stand in front of him again, maintaining eye contact. “None of us chose to be Spider-Man, okay? Yes our lives are hard and yes we lose so many people but the point of us is that we keep going. We keep fighting and keep helping as many people as we can because we have the power to do so. Miles believes he can save his father and his universe so of course he’s going to try to do that. Of course he’s going to go against all odds that it doesn’t work because despite it all, he knows that if there’s even the slightest chance he can save both then he has to try.”

Miguel glares at you with a pointed glare before moving his face close to yours. “And that’s what’s going to get him and everyone in his world killed. You can either help me stop him or get out of my way,” he threatens, voice barely above a whisper. You don’t say anything, maintaining eye contact. You can feel his breath on your face with how close he is and part of you can’t help but flicker your gaze to his lips. Miguel notices this and smirks, standing up straight and breaking out of your webs with ease. He goes to wrap his arms around you. “Come on (Y/n), let’s go-”

You move out his grasp and shake your head in frustration. Miguel is slightly surprised, you’ve never rejected his affections before. “You're not going to change your mind, are you?” you ask, looking down at the ground. You already know his answer but you’re struggling with the decision you now have to make.

“I can't.” Miguel replies curtly, observing your body language. He sees how tense your shoulders are and how you turn away from him after his answer.

“Then I quit,” you sigh, looking over your shoulder at him. You can’t see him but you can hear the fabric of his suit as he clenches his fists and his small grunt of frustration.

“Are you serious?” Miguel growls, eyes red as he looks at you. You two have known each other for years and the last thing he needs is your betrayal.

You turn and face him, nodding your head. You look at Miguel up and down and frown. He barely even looks like a hero with the way he’s looking at you, as though you were some horrible villain. “I can’t support what you’re doing.”

Miguel sneers at you and his breathing gets heavier with frustration as he grumbles. “I should have never wasted my time on you.” 

You feel your heart break as he says this, memories of all the time you’ve spent together flooding your head. The times where he used to look at you with so much love and now you can't find a trace of that in him. You feel tears of both anger and sorrow build up as you watch him go back to his platform. 

You open a portal with the device on your wrist, preparing to go in before you look at him one last time. “Goodbye Miguel,” you spoke, one last time.

Miguel grimaces and doesn’t even look back at you as he scoffs. “I don’t ever want to see your face again.”

You feel a tear fall down your cheek as you sigh. You take the device off your wrist and throw it to the ground, hearing it clatter as you walk through the portal.

The portal closes. Miguel is left alone in silence, the smallest mix of doubt and regret planted in his chest.

______________________________________________________________

Tags: @anidiotwhoreads

[cupidzgf]

FACETIME | SATORU GOJO

☁︎‎‎‧₊˚ summary: have you seen those tiktoks with girls talking about how they've been "traumatized" on facetime because their boyfriends said, "keep talking" while secretly getting off to their girlfriend's voice over an innocent call? let me set the scene for you…

contents: mdni, nsfw, afab reader, male masturbation, a little bit of sub satoru, voice kink, basically one-sided phone sex, lmk if i missed anything, w/c: 1.5k

SATORU lies on facetime with you in the late hours of the night. he's been across the country for the past two weeks due to a cursed womb (or so he says; you never understand what he is talking about). so you two settled for calling one another any night he was available, even though he loved to rub, "aww, did you miss me, sweetheart? i bet you're bedridden with sadness over my departure," in your face.

week two comes to a close on saturday night, and still, he's stuck with another sorcerer he claims "gets in the way of his technique" and is "virtually useless." you try to remind him to be kind, but it goes in one ear and right out the other.

he had already recounted his day to you, albeit tiredly, but he filled you in with the same happy-go-lucky attitude you're used to from his luxurious hotel bed as he turned his attention to you for you to do the same. throughout your recollection of the past three days, he grows increasingly antsy, fidgeting too much for it to be nothing. his phone constantly scrapes against the bed sheets as he adjusts the angle, but you don't comment on it, more focused on how nice it is to talk to him after three days since your last call.

no matter how much gojo is gone, it never ceases to leave a hollow hole in your chest, crawling with pits of negative emotions. knowing bits and pieces of the danger he faces does nothing to ease your worried consciousness over his well-being when he's away. he knows this and does well to accommodate the loneliness and anxiety that follows his absence, ensuing these calls when he can. not that he isn't as obsessed with you as you are with him, but he's more considerate than most people give him credit for.

you continue recounting the details of work and its latest drama, something satoru is usually very attentive to. in his line of work, drama comes in a much different form, which is why you assume that yours is a distraction from his. yet his lack of response begins to raise warning flags. his typically energetic and reassuring demeanor is replaced by eerie silence. questions about his behavior start to filter and infiltrate your scrambling thoughts.

it was easy to assume that it was your fault. maybe he was tired and didn't want to hear you ramble? perhaps he doesn't want to be rude and tell you to shut up? what if you're annoying or boring him? even as he's assured you hundreds of times before how he loves to hear you talk and share your life with him, the insecure part of your mind starts to turn on you with bared teeth and fangs.

as you finish your sentence, a beat of silence passes, and you wait with bated breath for a huff of laughter that never comes. he doesn't respond, heavy breathing filtering through your phone's speakers so quietly you have to strain your ears to hear it. you furrow your eyebrows, biting your nails as the silence stretches on.

"toru?" you softly ask, tilting your phone screen to get a better angle of the dark room staring back at you through the screen. the hotel room provided little in the way of light.

"yeah?" he replies, his voice strained with a tinge of breathlessness.

"are you okay? you're not injured, right?"

a shaky hum vibrates your phone ever so slightly, and you catch a glimpse of his spikes of white hair in the darkness. "yeah…yeah, sweet cheeks, just keep talkin' f'me, alright?" i'm close, goes unspoken, but he's too focused on the sound of your voice that could have only been gifted by the heavens and his hard, leaking cock to dwell further.

it's been two weeks, and he feels like he will go insane before the semi-grade 1 he's supposed to supervise exercises the curse.

suguru had recommended that the kid be moved to a grade 1 sorcerer, which was fine with him. he didn't interact with his juniors often but figured his calmer other half had a plan. why should he care? that was until he'd been put on assignment with him to exorcise a special grade halfway across the country, and suddenly, he cared a whole fucking lot.

it had only been because of suguru and leiri that he didn't whine and complain until they assigned someone else about why he, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, was given something so….so….(suguru hadn't let him finish the sentence before he was given a cold glare). but the old bastards had a way of making his life hell, and now he was left to sleep in a rundown hotel (the kid insisted it was the fanciest thing he'd ever seen), pent-up and irritated out of his mind.

you, however, had been his saving grace when after a particularly long day, you called him. sporting the cute pajama set he likes to smack your ass in, how was he not supposed to find your voice attractive? i mean, come on, he hadn't even had time to jerk off in those two weeks; what was he supposed to do? not as quietly as possible, take his cock out of his pants?

at your end of the call, his out-of-character attitude makes you suspicious. however, for the sake of conversation, you attempt to brush it off until it hits you, and you pause for your next word. "what are you doing?"

silence. you are met with piercing silence and then an unsteady chuckle. you can imagine him shaking his head as he clears his throat uncomfortably. "listening to you, whad'ya ask?"

"you're really quiet…and i can't see you. if you don't want to listen to me, just say so," you murmur softly, delicately even. the next second, there's a poorly concealed grunt, teetering on the edge of a whine. both of you pause at the same time, the humming of the air conditioning outrageously loud in the stillness that follows.

"fuck, i'm sorry, i'm so sorry. i just can't take it anymore." moaning, the vulgar sounds of wet slick fill the air, and it's then the realization comes crashing down.

your jaw slackens, utter shock overtaking your now stiff body. "what the fuck?" you breathe, astonished. "h-how long–"

"since you started talking," he strains, and the familiar build of an orgasm from his hand frantically pumping his length drenched in pre is a lewd sight. spreading his legs further from where he lies on the bed, he whines back, arching as the tightness in his balls makes him feverish, his cock impossibly hard. he's become desperate to hear you speak, pleading for you to give him that push off the edge and into the insanity of release. "oh, fuck, keep going, please--"

"oh my god, you're such a perverted freak! i wasn't doing anything sexual, and you're beating your cock to my voice—"

he knows he's depraved, but cumming to the sound of you degrading him over the phone has to be a new low. especially the way his pent-up release feels like heaven crashing over his body in a tidal wave and sweeping him off his feet. he moans, shuddering with a sweet cry when you gasp in that cute voice of yours as you realize he came.

panting, satoru slumps on the bed, his hand and the bedsheets drenched in his seed. his eyes follow the mess he made to his phone, where spurts of sticky white land where your face is on the screen.

"you're sick." he knows you don't actually mean that. you're just in shock, right? turned on? maybe you'll even take off your pants, and he can get a glimpse of that sweet pussy… "i'm breaking up with you."

satoru is violently ripped out of his lust-filled fantasy as he grabs his phone in a flurry, cringing at how his fingers stick and smear over the metal. "no, no, no, no. i'm sorry, pretty baby; i didn't mean to make you mad."

pouting, a face that he knows garners your sympathy, he attempts to coo his words in a sickly sweet, desperate voice he knows you love. "i've just been so pent up without you and your pussy that i couldn't help myself. you were being so good for me, i couldn't hold it in anymore. :("

he holds the camera to his face, praying it captures not only the sad tone but also his frown and sad eyes of apology. "i'll be better next time, sweet girl, i promise."

your eyes move across your face before you stand and pace around your shared room, rubbing a hand over your eyes. "i hate you," you murmur, and his face lightens up with an ear-splitting grin as you grumble about how he could have at least done it with you. all was forgiven as far as he was concerned.

"ugh, you're disgusting. just… go clean up." sighing, you sit back on the bed, side-eyeing him when he doesn't move.

he perks up, grinning as his following retort comes to mind. "only if you talk me through it."

automated beeps from the now-ended call are the only things that reply.

©2023 cupidzgf. do not copy, translate, modify, or repost my content onto other sites without my permission

[just-wrting]

Feeling Fangs Part 2

Title: Feeling Fangs Part 2

Pairing: Charlotte Katakuri x Wife!Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: You and Katakuri explore your relationship more after you remember things from the past that you try not to think about.

Master List Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

A/N: Wrote a part 2! This ended up longer than I expected due to things I wanted to put in it, but that’s fine. My fics have been getting longer and that’s good! My bf and I have officially reached Wano, so expect Law content in the future cause he’s also just a pretty boy. Anyway, here’s part 2 to a boy who took like three episodes to get into my top three one piece men. This is written for a female reader, but men, please send an ask if you want me to make it masculine!

You don't have the dream often, but when you do, you can never wake up on your own. It's like she's still staring down at you, waiting to destroy you for defying her. Sure it all worked out, but it still terrifies you as much as it did then.

The dream starts after you arrive. Your shoes clack against the polished floors, announcing your every step to all who are listening. Your jacket flutters behind you as you walk, giving off the impression of a cloak not a jacket. You've made sure that you picked out a new outfit to try to impress her, but you aren't sure she's a woman to be impressed by looks.

"An audience with Big Mom? You must be insane," the man escorting you jeers. "What makes you think you can get what you want?"

You don't reply, setting your jaw in determination. It's been something you've always been able to do. You get your way from almost everyone when you're this determined, not just your father. Not only that, you're banking on a few things to make you convincing.

The door swings open to a chorus of singing, the musical behind the door not stopping for you. It's just one of those techniques to intimidate you, and you won't fall for it. Not even as you swallow your heart back down and clench your fists to stop the fear. It's ridiculous. This whole plan is ridiculous all because you're stubborn about who you get to marry.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" she asks, leaning down to look at you. "To what do I owe the pleasure of having the next bride coming to my territory early?"

You sweep into a deep bow, not raising your eyes. Everything rests on your performance.

"I had a request. I fear that the groom you have paired me with is a bad match."

You can feel the heat of her anger. "Are you saying that I'm a bad matchmaker? All of my children are happy with their marriages, why wouldn't yours be the same?"

You straighten and hesitantly look at her. "I would never say that. What I fear may have happened, is you believe my role in my father's business. I may be his daughter, but I have yet to be labeled the heir."

"So you are useless?"

You gulp. "If that's how you choose to view it. I am merely being honest with you about my father. I'm begging you for your help, Big Mom. With your help, I can be named the heir. As soon as that happens, you are free to do with my father as you wish and I will turn it over to you."

She leans back and rubs her chin. "What does this have to do with the marriage?"

You keep your hands folded behind your back. "I need to marry someone who can protect me against anyone and who would never respect my father. I'm unsure how he does it, but he has been able to get very powerful people to do things he wants."

Thunder booms through the room as she growls at you. "Are you saying my children are weak?"

You bite your lip. How is she taking everything you say the wrong way?

"I have heard about some of your children more than others." You take a deep breath, trying to steady your ever growing nerves. "Perhaps it's a bit difficult to understand my perspective. You are the strongest woman on the seas. You're able to get yourself out of any fight you get in. You are unstoppable. I am nobody. I have no abilities and no fighting knowledge. Everyday I have to fear for my life. It would be better for you if I had a strong husband to rely on instead of running to you when I'm in danger."

You hold your back as straight as you can, pushing down all your fear. You have no idea if she's listening to you or if you're signing your own death warrant with every word you say.

She calms down. "So what you're saying is that you're afraid of getting hurt so you'd like one of my strongest children to marry you in exchange for handing over your father's empire?"

"In the simplest of terms, yes that is my request. You are a gracious woman for even listening to my request."

Her laughter echos through the room. "Very well. I hope you're okay with finding out which of my sons you'll marry at the wedding."

You dip into another bow. "Of course, whatever you wish I shall be okay with now that my fears have been put to rest."

She waves you off. "Begone now, I seem to have another person to speak to."

You walk out of the room as calmly as you can. Internally, you're both relieved and panicked. Now you have made your future even more twisted and unclear. The mere thought of going home or coming back here makes you sick.

As soon as you can, you duck into the shadows and start to retch. There's nothing to vomit, you skipped breakfast, but spit trails down your lips to the floor. All of your nerves are finally getting to you and you can't hold it back anymore.

There's a faint clinking sound as someone walks towards you, but you don't turn around. Not only is it a bit mortifying to be seen like this, you just don't have the energy. Who ever it is pauses a short distance away, never saying anything. You know it's to look at you. You left the door open behind you.

Normally the dream continues with you finding food, but still throwing it up as the Big Mom pirates sneer at you. This time, you jolt awake to see Katakuri looking at you with worry.

Your breathing is heavy as you fumble around, trying to get away. There's a million thoughts racing in your mind, but the most prominent one being that you have to leave. You don't even stop trying to get out of the bed as he picks you up and sets you in his lap.

"It's just me," he whispers as he pulls your head to his chest. "You're awake, and you're safe."

You do your best to focus on the sound of his breathing, trying to match it. It's a bit tricky since he's got larger lungs, but the deeper breaths help you slowly calm down. You ignore the rest of your body as you, pretending that you aren't still trembling.

You can't remember the last time you woke up like this. Maybe it was when you first got married and you were terrified of being surrounded by strangers. Maybe it was when they killed your dad and you kept getting those letters saying that people would get their revenge. Maybe it was just a few weeks ago when you woke up in a cold sweat wondering if you would ever see Katakuri again.

By the time you've calmed down, you forget why it scares you so much. It's just a dream of a time that you could've died but didn't. It's just a dream. It will only ever stay a dream.

"What happened?" His voice is soft as he kisses the top of your head. "Tell me."

You draw in a shaky breath. "It's just a dream I have sometimes. Just remembering why we got married in the first place. Did anyone ever tell you why?"

Katakuri gently rubs his thumb against your skin. It's nice to just have him hold you like this for a little bit. Even if you woke him and you feel like a bother.

"Mother just said that you were someone she needed to keep in check and I was the best fit for that. That's all I know."

"I marched in here and asked that she gave me a different son to marry. Part of it was I thought your brother was..." you search for the right word. "Not my type. Part of it was that I was scared to get killed by your family so I wanted one of her strongest sons so that way I was safer."

"Does that mean I'm your type?"

You can feel his face start to heat up as he leans against you. It's not something you ever really thought about, so you rack your brain for the answer.

"I'd say so. I didn't pick you out, your mom did, but that doesn't mean you aren't my type." Your face starts to heat up. "You are the prettiest one and I would be lying if I said that I hadn't thought of marrying you when I first heard about it."

He stops moving. "Why me?"

"Because you're my type. I keep learning new things about you that just tick more of my boxes so it worked out alright."

You tilt your head back and give him a soft kiss. For a moment he stays still, but he's quick to grab your chin and keep you there. It's only been a few weeks, but you've gotten plenty used to just how affectionate he is when you're alone.

"Like what?" His eyes look into yours, unblinking and persistent. "What do you like about me?"

"Are you really going to make me list off everything I like about you?"

Even in the dark his eyes shine, and you find yourself mesmerized. He looks so pretty and you reach up to play with his hair.

"Just a few things."

You pretend to think really hard about it. "Well, let me think. I like that you're honorable."

Pressing a kiss to his jaw, you continue to list things. "You care deeply about people."

A kiss to his cheek. "You're incredibly sweet."

A kiss to his nose. "And you have to be the prettiest man I've ever seen."

With a smile, you press your lips to his. You mean every word you said, and you hope he knows that. It's official. You've definitely fallen for him, but you'll keep that to yourself for now.

Katakuri grips your waist and pulls you closer. He's soft and warm, and it's just so comforting to be held. It hadn't taken you long to get used to this, and now you find yourself enjoying it.

Before you can react, he pulls away and presses a kiss to your temple. "It's still early in the morning, get more sleep."

Scowling, you decide to sass back. "Who are you to tell me what to do?"

He gives you another kiss. "Your husband."

"Uh-huh. And how long have you been my husband?"

"Three years, seven months, and," you hear the sound of him picking up the clock and setting it down. "Twelve days."

"I'm surprised you remember that. I forgot all about it last year." You put your head back against his chest. "Though you're never around for it."

He starts to rub your back again. "In case it was important. What made you remember?"

"Someone left me a gift to celebrate it. I don't know who, though they've left me a gift every year."

You close your eyes, content to just relax. Katakuri is always warm and soft. There's very little that's more relaxing than just laying on him and going to sleep.

"What did you do with them? Did you throw them out?" He sounds worried.

You give a halfhearted shake of your head. "Nope, they're in the top drawer of my dresser. The only thing I've considered throwing out is some stuff that an old friend sent me. Why? Did you send them?"

There's a rumble in his chest before he wraps his arm around you and rolls over. "Don't ask questions, just sleep."

"Have you been trying to woo me this whole time, Katakuri?"

He holds you tighter. "If I promise to tell you who left those tomorrow, will you go to sleep?"

You laugh. "Sure, but only if you promise."

"Alright, I promise. Now go to sleep."

It's not a hard thing to do. You're warm and comfortable right where you are, and you feel sleep tugging you back. The thing that gets you the most is the feeling of being safe. Right now, as you are, you feel absolutely safe for what must be the first time in a long time.

—-

You throw the clothes on the bed and groan. Nothing you've managed to pull out has worked or fit, and you're starting to go insane. How did it not cross his mind to tell you that you needed to go with him to some stupid meeting? Now you're stuck rifling through your closet looking for something that Big Mom won't kill you for wearing.

"Why didn't you tell me last night?" you whine as you pull out another shirt. "None of this is going to work."

Katakuri watches you from the bed, wearing the same thing he always wears. He has it easy with a wardrobe filled with replicas of his biker outfit. Sure he looks great in it, but would it kill him to wear something else and suffer with the ability to choose? Maybe something that could actually cover that massive chest of his.

"Should I pick for you?"

You wave at him dismissively. "No. I need to prove that I know what to wear to something like this. Otherwise if she wants to see me when you aren't around, I'll be in trouble."

You can feel his eyes on you, but you ignore it. It's not until you slip on another dress, that you realize he's been in the room the whole time. It never bothered you before. In fact, the first time you changed in front of him you told him that it didn't matter if he saw you change because you're married.

Now that's changed. Sure, you're still married, you've just started to be more romantic and physical with each other. After three years, you've started to actually act like a couple. It's only been about a month, and the realization has just started to set in.

Even though you've done this a hundred times, you suddenly feel exposed and embarrassed. Has he always looked at you like this and you just never noticed? Maybe you should just go change in the bathroom instead.

"This also doesn't fit, I can't get the zipper up. I think I'll do this in the bathroom instead."

The bed squeaks as he swings his legs off. "I can help."

You feel your body heat up. "That's not necessary. How much time do I have left? Maybe I can go buy something."

"You look fine in everything you wear," he adds. "I don't believe it matters what you wear."

"I just," you pause to slip the dress off. "I just want to be perfect. Everyone views you as perfect so I need to match that."

You rub the silk between your fingers before chucking it to the floor. It doesn't matter what you wear. You'll never be more to them than Katakuri's little wife. Someone who's a thorn in their side and took him away.

"You're already perfect," he mumbles. "Just wear what you like."

You don't respond. Not only can you not hear him, you aren't sure if anything he could say would make you feel better. Maybe that's for the best. Dealing with his family isn't something he can really help with. It a challenge you need to deal with on your own.

You continue to absentmindedly pull clothes out and toss them around. All you're actually doing is making a mess. It'll all have to be sorted, hung, and put away once more, and you probably won't have the energy.

Eventually you pull out something you forgot you owned. The fabric is soft and soothing to the touch. You think back to when you bought it, shortly after you got married. Clearly you were thinking about Katakuri, the color matches his eyes.

You pull it out and hold it up to your chest. "What do you think of this?"

He nods. "It suits you."

You hum in thought. That's not much a reaction. To be fair, he hasn't given you much of a reaction this whole time. Part of you wants him to give you more than that, you wish you could see if he was flustered. Unfortunately, he's all ready, complete with his scarf tucked under his nose.

"That's it?" You raise an eyebrow. "I think I was thinking about you when I bought it since I'm pretty sure your eyes are this color."

You make your way over to the bed and hold it up to his head. Leaning in close, you stare into his eyes, looking back and forth between him and the clothes. The color is practically a perfect match. You don't know how you managed to pull that off, but you feel proud of that.

"It's the same color." You brush his hair away from his eyes. "Such a pretty color."

Katakuri reaches up and grabs your hip. It hurts a bit, but you don't mind. You know he can't tell how much force he can apply to your skin so it's never intentional. Normally you just remind him that you're not a sixteen foot tall piece of muscle and he needs to be more gentle. This time, you don't have the chance.

He takes the hanger from you and tosses it on the nightstand. You frown before he pulls you into his lap. Having no idea what game he's play, you push his chest and huff.

"What are you trying to do?"

You're flustered at the position, straddling his thigh in your underwear. It's impossible to tell how he feels right now due to his face being in shadow, but you hope he's more confident than you are.

"Is there something wrong?"

You grip the soft leather covering his chest and cover your mouth. Squirming to get out of his grasp isn't helping. In fact, it's making things worse. The way he's holding you makes it impossible to escape.

Closing your eyes, you try to get control of your thoughts. Every time you move, you end up grinding against him. You feel dirty for wanting to keep going. A large part of you wants him, even if it's in this way.

"N-no. I'm fine."

You stifle a moan as he pulls you closer. It's like he's encouraging you to give in, but you can't bring yourself to do that just yet. Not when you don't know if you can, and especially when you don't know if you'd be able to stop.

There's the sound of him using his devil fruit, and soon he's lifting your chin up. You open your eyes just enough to look into his. He's not looking into your eyes, tracing your body with his gaze instead. When he finally does meet your gaze, his pupils are wide and his eyes are dark. You've never seen him like that, but for some reason it gives you the answer you need.

Even though you're covering your mouth, you bite your lip to keep yourself from making noise. You can't bring yourself to break eye contact as you start grinding against him. His brow furrows slightly before he closes his eyes. You feel his chest rise and fall in deep breaths under your hand as he seems to struggle with something.

Katakuri keeps you steady, his fingers digging into your skin. Your eyes flutter shut, and you drop your head into his chest. At this point, the movement of your hips is like second nature. The dragging of your cunt against his thigh brings you  pleasure you haven't felt in months.

Focusing on your own pleasure, you start to move faster. You slide your knees to the side just a bit more to get even closer. Whining at extra friction, you feel your whole body flush. Each rock of your hips sends jolts of pleasure to your core.

You spread your fingers, panting to get more air. It's starting to make your thighs and hips ache, but you can't stop. You don't want to stop. You're chasing the high of an orgasm.

After a few minutes of rolling your hips down into him, you start to lose your pace. The tension in your core is building to its peak and you can't focus on anything but reaching it. You're desperate and clinging to him like it'll help.

As if sensing your desperation, Katakuri guides your hips back and forth. You struggle to muffle the sounds you make as you feel the tension snap. Your legs shake as your orgasm courses through you, and you grip his jacket as tight as you can.

Your hips don't stop moving until you're over sensitive and whining. It takes a moment for you to catch your breath, your chest heaving as you go limp. You barely register Katakuri lifting you off his thigh and laying you on the bed. His touch is light and gives you goosebumps.

There's the soft feeling of a damp towel on your face and thighs as he wipes you down as best as he can. You give a peek to look at him, finding him still in intense concentration.

"I'll let you rest for a moment. We won't be late."

You nod and close your eyes. Not only did you have a nightmare last night, but you got your exercise in already this morning. It's surprisingly exhausting, and you feel like taking a nap. You could probably get away with it too, since Katakuri dotes on you.

You curl into a ball on his side of the bed, making yourself comfortable. It's still warm from where he was, and you absentmindedly reach for the blanket. Of course, you can't reach it. Deciding that it doesn't matter, you give up.

After what feels like seconds, he's gently shaking you awake again. You stretch and groan before rolling over. Risking your life for a few more minutes is stupid, but what else are you going to do? Get up and go to the meeting?

"Get dressed. I can carry you, but you have to wear something."

You pout. "I don't even want to go. Why do I have to go?"

He presses a kiss to your forehead. "I don't know, but it isn't wise to keep Mother waiting."

—-

You look at your lap. Most of the topics are about fixing up the remains of the chateau, something you couldn't care less about. As long as you and your husband have a room big enough for him, you'll be fine.

"Now, time for the reason I called some of you here," Big Mom announces, banging a spoon on her teacup. "I hope that at least some of you can fulfill my request."

What little noises that were being made stopped almost as soon as she started speaking. You glance at Katakuri who doesn't seem fazed. Deciding to calm down, you take your tea in your hand and take a sip.

"This attack against me has made me realize that I'm not quite as young as I once was. Therefore," she gestures around the table, "as all my married children, it is your job to continue growing our family. The first to bring me a grandchild will be rewarded."

You choke on your tea, coughing into the cup. Did she really just request that you start having kids? You're well aware of how old all of her married kids are, but she can't be serious. She already has a grandchild, not that she'll ever call the kid that.

"Is something wrong with my request?”

You shake your head aggressively. "Absolutely not. I thought for just a moment there was a bug in my tea, but it appears I'm just suffering from a lack of sleep. I'm sorry for the disruption."

You don't even pay attention the rest of her talk. Who knows what she's going on about with her age, some of her kids aren't even double digits? Maybe this is just some plan to get you killed in the dumbest way possible. How are you supposed to have kids with Katakuri of all guys? He's sixteen feet tall.

That's not to say you haven't thought about having kids with him. Even if it's been in a more 'how would this work' way and less of a 'I really want kids' way. You’ve only started to be comfortable with him in the romantic sense in the past month or two so you haven’t had the chance to even discuss such a topic. Though you don’t think you’d mind trying.

You shake your head slightly, attempting to get rid of the thoughts. This sort of situation is not the time to be thinking like that. Even if he keeps looking over at you to make sure you’re okay.

Thankfully the meeting ends after a few more minutes, and you head outside. The stress of being around so many of the Big Mom pirates is giving you jitters and you want to just curl up into a ball and scream. Normally they leave you alone, even if giving you dirty looks, but this time you were forced to partake in a dumb meeting about having kids.

Just as she had asked, Katakuri stays behind for a few more minutes. You watch the door anxiously, biting your nails as you wait. It’s a bad habit, but you can’t break it due to moments like these. Moments where you aren’t sure what’s going to happen to you or your husband. Moments where your whole life could be upturned. Thankfully, he comes out looking fine, if mildly annoyed.

He picks you up and sets you on his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

“What did she want to talk to you about?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead he just keeps walking down the stairs, making sure to not jostle you too much. Whatever it was must’ve been somewhat bad if he’s not willing to talk about it yet. Maybe he just doesn’t want to bother you with whatever it was.

You take in the construction as you walk, surprised by just how fast the work has been. The whole chateau is almost complete, only missing finishing details and furniture. It’s pretty impressive, and you wonder how everyone managed to get it done. Katakuri and you even have your original room back already, though you aren’t sure where they managed to find all of your belongings. Not that it matters, you have other things to worry about.

Once he sets you down and locks the door, Katakuri sighs. He looks slightly aggravated, and you aren’t entirely sure why. It’s clearly related to whatever his mom wants him to do, but whatever it is can’t be that bad. Not that you have any idea of what she normally asks of him.

“There’s something I need to go do,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll be back in a few days.”

“It’s okay. I was really worried she had scolded and threatened you, so I’m glad you’re just leaving for a little bit.”

You press your hand to your chest in relief. There are far worse things that could’ve been said than having him go do something. At least he’s still safe and still yours.

“I’ll do my best to be quick.” He bends down to look in your eyes. “I promise.”

“I don’t care how long you take, as long as you come back safe.” You press a kiss to his lips. “Promise me you’ll come back safe and sound.”

Katakuri returns your kiss. “I promise to come back to you.”

With that, he leaves. Even though he just left, you find yourself missing him. You push down the idea of running after him and begging him to stay or take you with him. There’s no need to bother him. He’s already promised to come back and that’s more than you could ask for.

[justanotherarmyfangirl]

In Heat! 1/7

They're in heat, and you smell so hot...

Warning: 18+ smut, dubcon/noncon, hybrid!bts, wolf-hybrid!jungkook x bunny-hybrid!reader, dark yandere, predator/play, corruption, breeding kink

Feral. Jungkook was feral for you.

The wolf hybrid couldn't stop himself from rutting against you as you cried. You should have known better than to walk alone during the full moon. You believed you could make it home before sundown. Poor sweet naive bunny hybrid really thought she could outrun a wolf?

Jungkook could inhale and almost taste your sweetness, your sugary innocence as you sob under him. He holds back his instincts from shattering the bones in your slender wrists, at least for now.

You smelled too good for that, he didn't want to break you and spoil that sweetness about you. He needed to claim you first, he needed it, he felt feverish just hearing you whimper and twist helplessly under him.

You hyperventilate as Jungkook drags your wrists through the dirt, the earth sticking to the wet streaks across your cheeks as he holds your body down, crushing you between him and the ground. You stutter out apologies, pathetic pleas for the wolf to let you go.

But why would Jungkook let go of you now?

You're such a sweet prize that someone else from his pack will most certainly try to take the moment you're without him. No, you were his. His to claim.

Jungkook growls lowly, rips your dress down the middle, exposing your front to him, your nipples hardened in the cool night air, smooth skin that would look so pretty with his bites littered across. He bares his fangs, smiling at the thought.

You scream, choking on your tears, shivering in fright. You thought you were fast, but this beast above you was as quick as lightning, faster than any hybrid you've ever come across. You've never met anyone like him, only heard of rumors, warnings from your parents you should have listened to, a predator that oozed dominance, strength and wickedness. How could you have known?

Jungkook caught you too easily, almost suffocated you when he pounced, your pretty dress soiled and dirt tangled in your hair from your struggle.

You lied frozen in shock and fear when he huffed out loud, growling. A big bad wolf, Jungkook certainly was menacing, with wild hair and heated eyes, he made you feel small. His clawed fingers twist your nipples, pulling as you cry out for help, your palms digging into the earth to steady your shakes. He leans back on his knees, hands touching and groping, claws scratching across your skin in warning,

"Good bunny. You know it's useless to fight me, so be good and turn around for me, yeah?" He pulls at your hips before you can protest.

What choice do you have, but to bare yourself and make it hurt less?

Jungkook takes in your shivering form. He growls lowly, your body was made to be bred, your hips perfect for child-bearing, for gripping when fucking. His sharp claws rip into the seams of your clothes, mounting you quicker than you were prepared for, shoving his cock into you with so much force your legs give out. You scream in pain when he grabs a fistful of your hair, catching your floppy ears in his tight grip too, pushing your head down into leaves and twigs. He yanks your head back with one particularly hard thrust, his brutal pace strong to keep your cries loud.

Despite your pain, your body was hardwired for mating, you were throbbing, stretched around his thick cock. You cried as your cunt clenched around him and pulled him in. He bows his head and inhales your enticing scent, groaning into your neck as his weight drops on you, tongue licking across the sensitive skin under your ear.

You whimper and try not to think about his cock buried inside you, the friction making your body react despite your struggle to stop him.

"You like that, sweet bunny?" he asks, taunting. You shake your head, as much as you can with his fingers digging into your scalp. "Oh, you do." You can hear the delight in his deep rasp.

He chuckles when you whine out, thrusting in faster and harder when you tighten around him. He grabs your wrists again when you try to crawl away, putting you back in place as his hips roll into you deeper. Your rightful place, he thinks.

You are too perfect, and he thinks he might break your legs after this, to keep you with him forever. Jungkook sinks his teeth into the back of your shoulder. You whimper and cry shameful tears, no suiter will want you now, now that you've been used, scented, and marked by a predator.

What will you do?

Your body goes limp, moving back and forth in the stirred up soil as Jungkook fucks you.

The wolf hybrid doesn't need to break your bones after all, he carries you to his den easily without any protest.

This is my first time writing a hybrid story like this I don't know what I'm doing sorry t_t KNJ | KSJ | MYG | JHS | PJM | KTH | JJK | BTS

[whereserpentswalk]

You're a vampire. Nobody around you know, some suspect but they don't know. You understand that you're privileged to be able to hide it, there are vampires with maws of sharp teeth, or bat's wings, or other inhuman features, that mean they'll never pass as human. All you have is unusually pale skin, and small fangs, and you can use makeup to hide the first one. People just don't notice, and it doesn't feel like a big deal, because you make it so they don't suspect, so they never ask, so you never have to lie with words.

You have to make it so you look especially human to make people think you aren't a vampire. You wear bright colors, never black, anything people would consider "cute" but not too sexual, things that make you look small and harmless. You don't express interest in anything that seems too vampiric, like any horror media, or the type of music vampires like. And when you have to, you'll look down on vampires in ways only humans do, you couldn't be safe if someone asked why you had sympathy for them, so you don't, you don't look down on them too much, just a casual socially acceptable amount.

And you have to feel certain amounts of pain. You stand out in the sun, you can't always avoid it without revealing what you are, and it hurts, it burns your skin, its bad for you, but showing what you are is worse. You refuse to eat food of course, but you can't tell why, people must think you're starving yourself. But there's always an excuse, even when you're shamefully looking at the waiter, thinking about how he would taste.

There's something shameful about wanting to drink blood and knowing you can't, thinking about what it would be like to taste your friends. It feels like you're hurting them, with these desires that you can never tell them about. If you ever did tell them it would feel like a betrayal. When you saw your first boyfriend naked you felt so sorry about wanting to do that to him. Things didn't work out with him of course, it was impossible to be intimate, your genitals are dead and useless, and there was no way to tell him how much pleasure you'd get just from having him touch your mouth, your teeth, your gums...

There's a jealously you have for monsters who are open about their inhumanity. Vampires of course, but even seeing ghouls, or werewolves, or demons who are out of the closest, living their lives without secrets, being friends with each other, getting to do all of those oh so stereotypical things, it's a strange sense of envy. You used to tell them that you aren't like them that at least you're civilized, but it's all melted away. Sometimes you wish your body had never been able to pass at all, that you looked so inhuman that you could be truly doomed to always be seen as a monster.

Of course, there are just as many times you're reminded of why it's safe for you to stay this way. When you see how vampires and other monsters are talked about by those around you. When you see induvial monsters turned away from somewhere because they're 'dangerous looking'. When you hear what some religions have to say about your kind. Even just the side glances, and desire for distance, that so many seem to have when there's a monster in conversation. The worst-case scenario when someone is targeted by a monster hunter. Even if your college has a lot of monsters, even if your city is relatively accepting, you know you'll never be 100% safe. And you tell yourself that you can avoid all of that.

You were turned into a vampire pretty recently, right out of high school. Your parents seem accepting only on the condition that you're quiet about it. Part of it is that you're not ready for your human life to end yet. You're not ready for everything that you once were to fall away, and not ready for your last chance to have human friends to disappear.

There's a girl in one of your classes who you think is a werewolf, she hides it but not perfectly. You wish you could say so much to her, you wish you could talk to her. You think she wishes the same. You share glances, those glances say so much.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

If there was one thing I could tell every white fan who writes meta and fic about OFMD, it's that there's no way to do a "race-blind" reading of a story.

The simple fact of the matter is that our biases about race impact how we interact with every single piece of media we'll ever consume, and that's true for every person on the planet. We're all of us informed by the racism of the societies we grow up in, and we always all need to do the (often uncomfortable) work of examining why we think the way we do about characters of color. This isn't just important for making fandom feel like a safe space for fans of color, these are important life skills to build to help you become a better ally.

An important thing to remember is that you don't have to explicitly mention Ed's race to unintentionally reinforce racist readings of the text. Racist takes very often don't look like "Ed is obviously super violent and angry because he's brown," they more often look like "Ed is inherently violent" while ignoring how white characters like Stede engage in violence with much more enthusiasm. Trying to avoid thinking or talking about Ed's race doesn't mean you're less likely to accidentally reinforce racist takes - it in fact means you're more likely to do that because you're not taking the time to examine your biases!

Ed's race became an important part of the story the moment a Jewish-Māori man was cast in the role. While for a character like Stede the idea of being seen as threatening might even feel empowering (he's a gnc white gay man who has often be made to feel weak and useless), for Ed you will miss part of why the Blackbeard caricature feels so dehumanizing to him if you ignore the racial component. The way Ed is depicted in Blackbeard posters, the way he's exoticized at the party boat, his interactions with other characters - it's impossible to understand Ed's character without considering how the color of his skin impacts how he moves through the world. Moments like Izzy essentially buying Ed from the crown become much more troubling when you take the time to examine the text with Ed's race in mind, and you might even end up with reductive ideas about Ed's gender expression and relationship to masculinity if you fail to consider that things such as longer hair are ways that some Māori men like Ed express their masculinity. You can ignore that Ed's a man of color, sure, but then you're missing a lot.

At the end of the day, it's just important to take the time to sit with yourself and think about how you understand characters of color in the media you enage with. It's good and healthy, I think, to ask ourselves uncomfortable questions. Do you find yourself assigning Ed's violent actions more weight than those of characters like Stede or Izzy? Is it easier to ignore Ed's tears to focus on what he's done wrong? A common example is the moment when Ed orders Fang to skin the racist French captain with a snail fork - do you find yourself thinking that Ed overreacted?

[everest-is-dead-now]

Little Monster - Terzomega

2.8k words ~ smut

Terzo asks Omega for another night together. Omega can’t stand his guts.

[warning: terzo is struggling and omega has no sympathy. this fic is pretty angsty and dark, so don’t read if you’re expecting comfort]

i decided to post this one.. i just couldn’t stop thinking about it.

[parts:] next

—

Omega stood idly in the back of the cathedral, listening to Secondo’s sermon. While was not obliged to be there, he liked the atmosphere of being in mass. Human-watching. Studying how they interacted with one another and the worship. Feeling their moods shift from listening to praying. If he just focused on one person praying, he could almost know their thoughts completely based on how their emotions shifted. Sad, hopeful, angered, desperate. He found the art of studying humans an interesting one, such complicated yet simple creatures.

“Enjoying yourself, Omega ghoul?”

Omega shut his eyes in annoyance. He should have sensed him coming.

“Can I help you, cardinal?”

Terzo stood by his side facing forward, but tilted his head at him. “You tease when you call me that. I missed you.” His voice dripped with the alcohol he abused. He smelled sweetly of wine.

“Not now.”

Terzo looked out at the congregation, avidly engaged with Secondo. “No one is looking, carissimo.”

“No.”

In all senses of the word, Omega hated Terzo. He wanted power but avoided responsibility. He was sloppy, useless, and did not have a strong loyalty to the Ministry. He often heard him spreading rumors among the siblings about his slightly older brother, Secondo. Talking to him was a chore in itself, though Omega was obliged to humor him.

“Secondo talks as loud as a garbage truck. They will not hear us, mostriciatto.”

“No.”

Omega suddenly felt his hand on his ass. He disciplined himself to stay still. Even staring straight ahead, he could see Terzo’s mischievous smirk in his mind’s eye. He gave him a decent squeeze.

Though Omega wished to kill him most days, they had been engaged in a secret, sexual tryst that Terzo often liked to invoke. That was what led Terzo to drag his sorry ass out of his quarters to beg Omega for attention.

“Let go,” he growled through grit fangs.

“Make me.”

“You’ll regret this.”

“Will I? Are you threatening your cardinal, mostriciatto?” Terzo teased.

Omega boiled with anger. “It’s not a threat if I do it.”

Terzo slyly moved his hand into his pocket, just barely able to feel the outline of Omega’s dick with the tip of his finger.

Omega seethed.

Terzo said, “Why do you not just come with me? Must you stay here?”

Omega was as silent as stone.

“Do not be like that, you are like a kitty who did not get his food.”

He was committed to his silence. Terzo tried to get his attention again, but Omega elected to walk away. He came towards the other side of the pews, partway to the front of the church where there were witnesses, and Terzo just stared at him from the back of the room. After a few minutes, he disappeared out the door.

Omega blew out a slow breath. Terzo was nasty when he was drunk, which was always.

What they had was circumstantial at best; a cardinal who took too much of a liking to a ghoul, finally convincing him one day to sleep with him. Like a dog fed scraps, he kept coming back with his needy eyes, begging for more. Omega saw little harm in indulging himself, especially when he could take out his anger and abhorrence of the cardinal on him. That was, as long as their affair could be concealed.

After mass, instead of mindlessly following Secondo around for the rest of the night, Omega surrendered to his lust and found himself standing outside the cardinal’s quarters, still in his uniform and mask. He knocked softly, looking carefully down the hallways, before stepping inside.

Terzo was on the ground in front of his couch, his head propped up on the side like he had slid off it. He wore a black suit, his dress shirt unbuttoned halfway, one sleeve rolled up, and his belt undone. He nursed a glass of red wine. Lying next to him was a spilled bottle.

“Omega ghoul,” Terzo murmured, staring at the glass in his hand. “My wine is on the floor.”

Omega, unphased by his intoxication, crossed the room and squatted over him. He grabbed Terzo’s throat, which made him look up.

“Clean it, then.”

His command was clear. The pathetic cardinal swallowed, and Omega roughly let go. Terzo took a drink, set his glass on the ground, and began licking the wine off the floor. Omega grabbed his head, pushing his nose into the hardwood. Terzo released a weak whimper, breathing harshly against the floor.

“Mostriciatto…”

Omega pulled him up by the hair, tilting his head to the side to look at him. He waited expectantly, watching stray red drops run down his cheek.

“You will not kiss me if I keep drinking the floor.”

“I don’t want to kiss you.”

He dropped his head roughly back to the ground. He whimpered.

“Keep cleaning,” Omega grunted.

Terzo’s pink tongue flicked from his lips again.

Terzo irritated Omega. Scum made better company than the drunk bastard skulking around the halls of the ministry. His intoxication made him hard for Omega to read, which annoyed him more that he could not glean his intentions. All he knew was he was oft horny, always drinking, and indignant of his position as cardinal—but only because he said as much.

Terzo started panting. Omega noticed he was shallowly grinding against the floor, clearly desperate for friction. Omega changed his position to kneeling next to him and used his other hand to slam his ass down, gripping tightly and keeping his hips still. His fingers dug into the fabric as hard as they could. Terzo groaned. He tried to thrust himself upwards, but Omega’s grip was strong, and tightened on his hair. He heard him gasp.

“Omega— Please— Let me go—“ Terzo gasped.

Reluctantly he did, realizing Terzo was choking. He rolled on his back and coughed harshly. The outline of his dick was clearly visible in his pants. Even while he gasped for air, he stared at Omega pleadingly. When he had settled, his hand subtly reached down to play with his own bulge.

Omega did nothing, just watched. Terzo got bolder, unbuttoning his pants, pulling them down just below his hips. Before he could reach the prize, though, Omega hoisted him up, carried him to the bed, and threw him on the mattress.

Terzo rolled to his stomach, steadying himself on his knees so that his ass was raised in the air, his pants falling around his thighs. His hand slipped between his legs, his fingers pressing against his asshole. He looked at Omega, his head lying against the bed, with hazy and needy eyes.

He was desperate.

Omega growled, “If you wanted to jerk off by yourself, you shouldn’t have teased me.”

Omega pushed him over, forcing him on his back. He yanked down his own pants and climbed over him. He dangled his dick over Terzo’s face, holding himself over him in what was almost a push-up. Terzo knew what to do, taking it in his mouth obediently. Omega rolled his hips and started fucking his mouth.

Terzo took it well. His hands exploded Omega’s lower half, his fingers slipping around his balls, thighs, and ass. The extra stimulation added to his grunts and moans.

Even as his chest rose more shallowly, as his fingers gripped more tightly, Omega did not let up. The human’s warm, wet mouth was doing wonders to satiate the risen passion burning within him. He knew Terzo had seduced him for his own desires, his need to be treated like shit. Strangers could not mistreat him as well as the hellish fury who he knew already hated him. It was a wonder why Omega bothered to keep coming at all. Perhaps he loved to torture Terzo. It was more vindicating than glaring at him behind the mask silently.

Terzo gripped his thighs, breathing harshly, clearly wanting relief. But Omega was close and he did not want to let up. His throat was a perfect and tight hole for his cock, even if it was choking him. Listening to Terzo struggling to breathe was getting Omega off even more. The more he gasped, the tighter he was.

How he despised him. Enough to cum down his already constricted throat.

Omega lifted himself up with a grunt, standing next to the bed and pulling his pants up. Meanwhile Terzo was doubled over spitting up cum on his bedsheets. He gagged as spit dripped from his mouth, retching like he was close to vomiting. Omega was indifferent.

It took a decent few minutes for Terzo to pull himself together. He laid on his bed, pants still down, his dick now soft from choking for so long. When he could breathe again, he whispered in a raspy voice, “Mostriciatto, will you give me my wine?”

Omega shook his head. Terzo crawled out of bed towards the couch where he had set his wine glass on the floor. He sat against the couch and took a long drink. When it was empty, Omega watched as he crawled to his coffee table to open another bottle, ass out and dick wagging. Not from a lack of shame, but a lack of awareness. He was wasted.

Omega was disgusted. This was the lowest that humanity had to offer. Terzo looked so pathetic he felt, for once, pity.

“Omega ghoul,” he slurred, crawling to again sit against the couch on the ground and pouring wine in his glass. “Will you touch me now?”

His dick noticeably twitched, growing to a half-on. Omega silently shook his head.

“Please.” He looked up at him, his arm swaying in the air before he took a drink. Omega denied him again, turning towards the door.

A sob. Omega stopped. Where before he had felt little through the veil of wine, now there was a surge of misery emanating from Terzo, so strong it strangled his heart. He turned to look at him again.

“You do not like me?” Terzo wailed. “Am I not handsome enough? Do I not choke down your dick? Mostriciatto, you think I am bad in bed, si? No! I am good, I am sexy!”

There was an anguish that ran much deeper than the superficialities he cried about, a pain that Omega had never sensed in him before. It went beyond his intoxication. It was something he hid. He could feel it twisting around every neuron, lurking behind his thoughts. It was impossible— how did he hide this from a quintessence ghoul?

Terzo continued to break down. He took another drink and began pumping his dick, which was not even hard. “I don’t need you for fun, ghoul! I am il maschio, I can do my own!”

He visibly was not into it, gripping onto himself without rise. He continued crying into his wine glass, and though he obviously could not get himself up, he continued to try.

Omega could not stand it any longer. He turned to leave again.

“Wait!”

Terzo scrambled behind him, his glass audibly clattering to the floor. As Omega reached the door, Terzo threw his body against him.

“Don’t leave, caramissio, don’t leave…”

Terzo’s snot and tears soaked into his shirt, to his annoyance.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Do not leave me.”

The sadness flooding from him was overwhelming, unfortunately triggering his sympathy for him. It must have been lonely to be Terzo. Omega knew the only attention he got was when he was spreading rumors and lies, that otherwise he went unnoticed in Secondo’s shadow. Omega was all he had— and Omega hated him.

He tentatively wrapped his arms around Terzo, who readily clung on to him in return, weeping against his chest. Omega gingerly rubbed his back and allowed him to cry.

After a few minutes, he seemed to calm down. Terzo pulled back slightly, looking up at him, his black eyes and lips smeared to all hell. He suddenly grabbed Omega by the crotch.

Omega’s eyebrows knit together in irritation. “Terzo…”

“Please, I want you, mostrichiatto. Just once tonight, fuck me up the ass.”

Omega felt the loathing return to him. Terzo was just a whore, in the end. But he would oblige, because he felt sorry for the pathetic cardinal.

“Fine.”

Omega lifted his slight frame and brought him back to the bed. Again, Terzo was quick to raise his ass in the air, his asshole puckering at Omega greedily.

Omega once again lowered his pants, gave himself a few strokes, knelt behind him, and shoved inside without prep or lube. Terzo groaned painfully, burying his head in his covers. Omega mercifully paused for his benefit, even reaching beneath him to start yanking on his cock.

Terzo tightened and relaxed around him, moaning. He bit his finger, body relaxing with pleasure. When he began pushing his hips back for friction, Omega began thrusting.

Terzo took up the task of stroking himself off so Omega could grip his love handles as he moved. He whined and panted, peeking at Omega over his shoulder. Even with his bizarre eyes, he looked desperately cute. Omega, feeling aggressive as a result, yanked Terzo’s shirt down around his shoulders and raked his claws down his back, just to see his skin turn red and bleed. Terzo moaned at the contact, his head disappearing into the bed again.

Omega grabbed him by the hair and yanked him upwards so that his back was pressed against his stomach. Holding him around the waist with one hand, touching his chest with the other, thrusting all the while. Omega slid his fingers against his nipples, rubbing and pinching them as Terzo whimpered. Terzo kept jerking off all the meanwhile, steeped in his sexual bliss, likely overstimulating himself just to make his mind go blank.

“Carissimo…”

Omega pushed him down again harshly, the bed bouncing with the force. He planted his elbows on either side of his shoulders and thrust quickly into his tight ass, which would clench with every change of movement. Terzo grabbed his wrist with one hand and let the other return to stroking after he had used it to catch himself.

“Carissimo…” Terzo moaned again. Omega did not like his pet names, said to him as if they were more than they were. He voiced his distaste with a bite to his shoulder, deep enough to draw blood. Terzo screamed in pain. He followed it up with harder thrusts, clapping against his body, almost making him lose the balance in his knees. So strong were his thrusts that Terzo started shouting his moans.

He felt Terzo’s arms quickening and could physically feel his orgasm build up in him. Omega focused, feeling the tense string of his arousal threatening to snap. When his mind had found it, he gripped it tightly, stopping him from his release.

It took the drunken Terzo awhile to realize. He was desperately yelling, mumbling incomprehensibly in Italian. He wanted to finish. Omega could feel it take over every cell in Terzo’s body. He wanted the release. He wanted to think of nothing but the floods of chemicals in his mind.

But he didn’t let him.

“You’ll cum when I’m finished,” Omega grunted between thrusts.

Terzo had neither the words nor the capacity to deny him.

Omega had his way with the little man, biting him once more just to hear his pain. The cardinal was a bitch, but he was his bitch. No matter the strange surge of pain and misery Omega had felt from him, no matter his need to be drunk at almost all times, no matter the way he clung to Omega and begged for his companionship. Terzo was nothing. Omega was just using him; That was all they were. Terzo liked it this way. He liked to be hurt by him.

Right?

Omega came again with another vicious bite, and mercifully released his mind hold on Terzo. Terzo jolted with him, and they came together, dripping in synchrony, sighing as one. Again, Omega was quick to stand and pull up his pants, ready to leave at the first opportunity, even if his legs felt more weak than before. He adjusted his mask, his shirt, righting himself until it looked as if nothing has happened at all.

“Omega ghoul…” Terzo said softly, having collapsed on his stomach. “…Will you stay?”

His back and shoulders looked as if he had survived an encounter with a lion. Perhaps he had.

“No.”

He was steely, silent. Terzo was quiet for a moment.

“May I have my wine?”

Omega, haven given up, grabbed the bottle near the couch and handed it to him. Terzo sat up to drink, his eyelids heavy as he gazed at him.

“Please…?” he murmured slowly.

Omega shook his head. He had already stayed longer than he wanted. Holding Terzo all night was too far for what they were.

Nothing. They were nothing.

He took a swig, shaking his head. “Mostriciatto, you asshole.”

Omega took that as his cue to leave, and this time, Terzo did not stop him. He heard the bottle thunk to the ground as he left. Terzo had passed out. Omega did not turn back.

[parts:] next

buy me a kofi <3

[deluxewhump]

Nightfall

When the moon is in the ditch and the hour is none

A bloodbag must remain useful to a vampire.

CW: vampire and bloodbag, recent kidnapping (by other vampires), very light blood drinking, comfort and reassurance, fluffy vampire content, platonic hand and forehead kiss

There was a time he would have been indescribably relieved that a vampire showed no interest in feeding from him.

Now it was a source of unease. Carlo could not get through a night without a strong sense of uselessness. It had been several weeks since Erik took him, and he and his revolving door of friends and followers had made him their chewtoy again.

He was grateful that Maxim took him back at all. But this prolonged period of abstinence was agonizing to him now. It was just past eight when he worked up the courage to offer himself— an hour that in the dead of winter was indistinguishable from midnight. Outside, snowdrifts climbed the house’s exterior, and icicles as long as five feet had formed in the eaves.

“I’m ready now,” he said as casually as he could. “If you’d like.”

“There’s no rush,” said the vampire, whose nonchalance was more convincing than his own. “And you need to recover.”

“I am recovered.”

“Physically, maybe,” Maxim said. He was copying a pile of letters, yellowed and cracked with time, into a document on a laptop. The light from the screen made the reflective sheen of his eyes more noticeable than usual, like shining a light at an animal in the dark. “Your bruising hasn’t even had time to fade yet.”

“I still need to do my job.”

He kept on typing. “Why?”

“Because it’s why I’m here. What good am I to you just freeloading? Why am I here if I am not being fed from?”

The vampire stopped typing and turned to him. “So I can feed from you later.”

Carlo stared wordlessly. It was uncharacteristically direct of him to put it that way.

“You’re thinking of this on your own timeline, not mine,” he continued. “It’s only been three weeks. You’re rattled. You try to hide it but I can hear it. And why wouldn’t you be? You’re not going to be discarded or replaced because of a few months of recovery. What’s a few months to me, do you think?”

He knew he’d lost, but he answered to be polite. “Like how a few nights is to me, I guess.”

“Exactly. Come.”

Carlo obeyed and curled up next to him. He was heatless but solid, inhuman and yet adept at all the motions with which humans show affection to one another. He tilted Carlo’s face in his hands and kissed the crown of his head. “I enjoy your company, too, you know. You’re not a vending machine.”

“I have good dual use as a lapdog, Erik says,” he said darkly.

Maxim sighed. “My maker has a way of perverting even the simplest pleasures in life. A gift he’s always had.”

“Do other vampires do this?” Carlo asked, resting himself against Maxim. “With their humans?”

“Plenty do. There’s as much variety in those relationships as there is in human ones.”

“I really feel fine. It’s just the bruises that are left.”

“I almost think you enjoy being turned down.”

“I do not, no,” Carlo answered, not entirely without humor.

“If you insist, I’ll show you a trick.”

Carlo turned to look at him. “Okay.”

Maxim smiled. “Your trust is flattering. Give me your hand.”

He did.

“Just a pinch,” said the vampire, and nicked the tip of his index finger with the scalpel tip of a concealed fang. Carlo flinched lightly, but did not pull away. Just a finger prick, he thought. Anxiety swelled in him but subsided when he reminded himself whose arms he was in. The vampire squeezed his hand until a red drop of blood pooled at the tip of his finger. He put his mouth over it in a swift but gentle motion and the blood was gone.

Carlo was skeptical. “Does that do anything? A drop?”

“Think of it like drag off someone else’s cigarette,” the vampire said with a grin.

“You did that to shut me up.”

“Yes, little mortal, I did.” The creature kissed the back of his hand and gave it back to him. “Now be quiet about it or I’ll give you nine more sore fingers before I feed from you properly again.”

[strongheartneteyam]

[ IMPORTANT: the picture in the middle is a fungi that produces a liquid that ONLY SEEMS like blood. It's NOT real blood.]

It bleeds and it burns.

Neteyam Sully x female!omatikaya!reader

Author's note: Neteyam is in his twenties and he's now the Olo'eyktan of the Omatikaya clan.

CW: established relationship, so angsty, broken hearted reader, jealous reader, insecure reader, mentions of sex, emotionally hurt neteyam, intense feelings, hurt/comfort, crying, forgiveness, heart wrenching but beautiful

Not proofread. Also, I don't really know what kind of fanfiction this is, maybe a short story ??? no idea. just felt like writing it. hope u guys like it ♡

( :̲̅:̲̅:[̲̅:★:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

And so it seems I broke your heart

My ignorance has struck again

I failed to see it from the start and tore you open 'til the end

And I'm sorry to my unknown lover

Sorry that I can't believe that anybody ever really starts to fall in love with me

Sorry (Halsey)

( :̲̅:̲̅:[̲̅:★:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

Neteyam would always take your hand and smile at you so sincerely. You could tell how much he loved you only by the way his lips curled up and his mouth opened up wide, his fangs protruding.

You knew how strong he was, how powerful he was as the Olo'eyktan of the Omatikaya clan. Your mate was a fearless, brave warrior, a skilled hunter, a beyond great archer.

But you also knew he would never hurt you. He would never dare to use his physical strength or high intelligence to bruise or betray you, in any way. Not if he could help it. Never on purpose.

Neteyam had the softest spot for you ever. He was always there to help you, to keep you safe. He'd spend longer than usual out in the forest only to hunt your favorite kind of meat, gather your favorite fruits, bring you enough water for you to never be dehydrated.

You were a jealous kind of girl. Whenever you saw another female na'vi, a stranger, who wasn't a family member or an old friend of his, gazing at him for way too long, you'd become territorial. You'd sit on his lap when everyone would gather to eat together around the scorching bonfire, just so all the other Omatikaya girls knew Neteyam was yours. That you two had made tsaheylu, that it was useless to try.

Meanwhile, Neteyam only had eyes for you but you couldn't realize that. Even though everytime you two made love, especially when he was going through his rut, he would worship your body just like you were a goddess, like you were Eywa herself. So, you ended up hurting him when trying to keep him closer. You ended up making him bleed instead of nursing his wounds. You would have anger outbursts, fighting with Neteyam and showing too much jealousy unbelievably often.

One night, you were crazily mad at him. He was late. Where the hell could he be? What company was he keeping?

When Neteyam finally came home, only a little later than the usual, you started to ask him a handful of cutting questions. You asked him - nervously and in attack mode - where he was, if someone was with him, why was he so damn late. You told him you were not a fool and if he ever cheated on you, you'd never forgive him.

"I was just looking for this." He handed you a small basket full of bittersweet little berries. "I know they are your favorite. Wanted to bring you some but finding them took longer than I expected. There was a nantang in the way." (viperwolf) "I had to make him go away without hurting him too much. It was hard..." He sighed, tired "Sorry for coming home late." Neteyam was so calm, his altruism ruled over his instinct to defend himself.

You were left speechless, full of regret, feeling sorry for... everything. You had to change. You had to be a better mate for your Neteyam. He deserved the world and took so many responsibilities for himself. It had been so since he was a young na'vi boy. He surely felt overwhelmed. Who was going to always be there for him if not his mate, the one he was bonded to forevermore?

"You know," Neteyam's eyes stared deep inside yours. His feline like ears were pointing down, betraying his pain "not everything is what it seems."

You were frozen in your place, looking down at the floor, not able to look him in the eye. Your thoughts started to spiral, telling you that you were not good enough to be his mate and you always mess everything up in the end. Some seconds passed while you listened to that wicked voice in your head, while you let your insecurities deceive you, pretending to want to help you, when in the end, their true intention was to drag you down, make you act in stupidity.

When you looked up again, he was already gone. You walked towards the door, despair hitting you hard, stealing the air that should be going inside your lungs and out. Your eyes rapidly caught Neteyam's silhouette walking fast towards the open forest. He would always go there to unwind a bit, to organize his thoughts when everything felt like too much.

You could only hope and pray to the Great Mother that when he came back, he would forgive you for how you had been acting lately, for not trusting him, for being paranoid. You hoped he would give you a second chance to make it right. You tried to calm down, to breathe. You waited for him.

After walking for some time, Neteyam was now sitting on a tree branch. That same tree stood really tall. It was the perfect place to hide and not be bothered.

Hot tears silently rolled down his face. He was the Olo'eyktan, he could not let anyone see him cry in the middle of the forest, late at night, so he camouflaged, up high in that huge tree.

Neteyam's strong heart now felt fragile. He felt weak. Almost nobody could break him. He learned to be the toughest he could be just so he could take the heavy position of Olo'eyktan, leading his clan. Many envied him, but, what they didn't realize was that the "crown" he wore weighed more than it shone.

He loved to be the leader of his people but that didn't mean it was not hard to try and not crumble, even on the face of such complicated matters he had to solve, even facing life threatening danger really often, to be the Omatikaya people protector, ready to fight and give his life up to keep everyone safe and sound.

He didn't have the luxury to put himself in first place.

But he was thankful for his mate. His safe haven used to be you. But you became darker with time, harder to deal with. He missed who you were in the beginning. That fresh, bubbly, sweet girl he fell in love with. All he wanted was her back in his arms. Sometimes, he did not recognize you anymore.

Neteyam started to hear intense, irregular sounds of brittle leaves breaking. Someone was running through the forest he was in, getting closer and closer to where he was. He was in a full vigilance state now. But it soon changed.

It was you. You were now standing next to the tree he was sitting on. He looked down at your slender body that, from so afar, looked utterly small.

"Neteyam!" You shouted, looking up at your mate. The frail eclipse light that came through the leaves made his bioluminescent freckles shine so bright, just like many tiny fireflies settled on his dark blue, perfect skin. "I'm so sorry! Please! Can we talk?!" You looked at him, pleading

Neteyam immediately gave in. Of course he wanted to talk to you. To hear you say "forgive me". To accept you back inside his arms. He loved you ardently. All he wanted and needed was you.

He signaled he was going to get off the tree, and, so did he.

When he got to the floor, you ran to him like he was air and you were almost drowning.

"I'm so, so, so sorry, my yawne!" (beloved)

"Shhhh... it's okay." Neteyam cooed, trying to comfort you. He held you tight in his arms, your skin glued to his warm, comfortable body. "We'll make it through. I love you, yawntu." (loved one) "Forever."

Your mate took your face on his big hands and, seeing you were crying, inconsolable, he just crushed his lips on yours and kissed your pain and angst away.

"Oel ngati kameie." (I see you) "I never stopped seeing who you truly are. On our darkest moments, I still remembered." Neteyam reassured you, his face serene and full of a burning kind of love, only and exclusively for you.

You understood. You finally understood.

You did not need to be insecure. Nothing could ever tear the both of you apart. Not even death. You could finally rest your head down on your mat and sleep peacefully.

જ★

I'm tagging you @yeosxxx bc u asked to be tagged in all my works and I'm SO sorry for almost forgetting to tag u 🥲 my memory sucks

[fayes-fics]

Cat-Nip [Drabble]

2k Celebration Masterpost

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: A new being joins the My Cottage household.

Warnings: none really, very minor injury. Otherwise it's all fluff.

Word Count: 863 (250 words, tsk honestly...)

Authors Note: the fourth of my 2k follower celebration drabble request fills (ask here). Unbetaed. Enjoy! <3

“What have you got there, my love?” Benedict asks warmly as he wanders in from painting in his studio for the afternoon.

“Oh, I just found this little moppet out in the garden; the poor thing was shivering,” you explain, scritching behind the tiny cat’s ear as it purrs so loudly it vibrates in your lap.

It’s all large eyes and tabby fluff—only a few months old, at a guess. Maybe abandoned by its mother. You were drawn outside by piteous cries that disturbed your reading. Now, after a quick but undignified bath in the scullery sink, some milk and leftover ham, it looks much perkier. And very happy to be with you. It has not stopped purring since.

“We have a new mouth to feed, don’t we?’ he sighs, walking over and touching your shoulder lightly, indulging you.

You look up at him through your lashes, knowing you have already won. “We have no choice; look at this little face?” you point out, your voice going high pitched and syrupy.

He rolls his eyes affectionately. “Does it have a name?”

“I believe it is a boy, so I was thinking… Anthony…,” you end with a giggle.

“Anthony? You want to name a tiny, useless ball of fluff after my elder brother? He will be mortified,” he points out, bemused.

“I know. That is why I like it, husband dearest,” you laugh louder, hugging the cat closer into your lap.

Benedict shakes his head and reaches down to pet the cat. Unfortunately, the little thing seems bewildered by a new unknown person touching it, and you watch horrified as it whips its head around and sinks its teeth into Benedict's finger, hissing at him.

“Oww!!” Benedict yelps and snatches back his hand. “That little scamp!”

“Anthony! No! Bad kitty!” you chastise, picking it up and scowling into its face. 

It at least has the to look a little contrite, and your heart melts a little at its pleading expression, even as Benedict huffs a laugh.

“Well, I must say, I will find great amusement in you admonishing anything with that name,” he states drolly. “Even if does not warm to me.”

“He will,” you assert. “He is just a little overwhelmed, that is all. Who could not love you, Benedict?” you point out, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.

You put Anthony down into a basket you have padded with a small throw pillow, and he instantly seems to curl up, basking in the warmth of the fire nearby. Then you twist to look properly at Benedict and inhale sharply. There is a little trickle of blood running over his knuckles.

“Lords alive; I had no idea he had injured you so much! Why did you not say? We must get you fixed up right away!” you fret, jumping to your feet and dragging Benedict by the arm towards the kitchen, where you know the staff keep some medicinal supplies for knife-related injuries.

“Darling, I’m fine,” he chuckles at your concern.

“We are fixing you up!” you insist, pushing him down into a chair at the staff table with hands on his shoulders.

His face quirks into an amused expression as you open and close various cupboards in rather an agitated state until you make a tiny triumphant noise and pull back, holding a bottle of iodine, a roll of cotton bandage and some clean muslin squares.

You take a seat next to him and grab his large hand, mopping up the trickles of blood and then applying iodine to the puncture wounds from the little fangs.

“You are such a good patient, not even a hiss as I applied the tincture,” you tease lightheartedly.

He laughs and catches your chin with his good hand, tilting it so you look up from tending to his injury. Even after many months together, he can still make you flustered when he looks at you so intensely, so devotedly.

“I have the very best nurse there could ever be, that is why,” he smiles handsomely, and you know you are definitely blushing now.

“Stop it,” you demure. That just seems to encourage him, a rakish crooked grin breaking out.

“Never,” he whispers, “I live to make you blush, wife.”

“You are such a cad!” you scold, flicking a clean muslin square lightly against his arm.

“I know,” he responds fondly, leaning in and kissing your cheek. “But I have to be an even better husband now that I have competition for your affection.” 

“Anthony?” you giggle.

“Anthony,” he confirms with a gentle lilt just as you finish wrapping his hand in a bandage.

“Well, then, I think you had better make friends with him, my love. Because Anthony has my heart as much as you now,” you add with a wink, standing up and sashaying out of the room to check on the little creature.

“You had better be talking about the cat!”

“I love you, Benedict,” you singsong and blow him a kiss from the hallway.

“That didn't answer my question….” he calls after you, in a playful tone, and you laugh so loud it echoes up the walls.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine

[howi99]

A story of a Knight and a Yokai (part 3)

RK: *speaking of his adventures to Reimu* -and i was lost for maybe a year or two? It's difficult to remember since the spores made me hallucinate for a while.

Reimu: A year or two!? How did you get out?!

RK: *chuckling* Well, i just built tolerance to it. Nothing magic, just the brain getting better at fighting the bad things, you know?

Reimu: *nods* I see!

Rumia: *entering the living room* Oi, the drunkard wants to see you.

Reimu and RK: *looking at one another* Me?/Which one?

Rumia: *point to Jaune* You. She's going to town and wants you to come with her.

Reimu: *excited* Can i come too?

Rumia: *shake her head with a grin* Nope! Today we got something to finish, remember? *She brings butterflies nets from behind her* I still haven't shown you the true strength of the rhinoceros beetle!

Reimu: *thinking about if she prefers to go with her mom in town or go play in the forest with Rumia* hm....

RK: *pat her head* Hey don't worry kid, i'll be back later. We are probably just getting food and supplies *turn to Rumia* Right?

Rumia: *nods* Yeah, it's just a boring show of the town. *Point to herself with her thumb* I'm far more interesting than that, right?

Reimu: ... *Nods* Yeah, you are the best!

Rumia: *grinning more* Follow me, i found a great spot while searching for you yesterday!

Both leave the room, leaving the Knight alone

RK: Kids these days, they can't be kept in place. *Look at Minako* So, what's the true reason?

Minako (wearing a power ranger mask): *entering the room* Are we so predictable?

RK: I made breakfast, and i know we are not lacking anything. *Get up* So, where are we really going?

Minako: *sigh* Someone put you in front of the temple. A Yokai i am quite familiar with. *Points to Jaune* She seems to be interested in you and i need to know why.

RK: You think i could be dangerous?

Minako: *shaking her head* Ah, maybe if you knew magic. No, I'm more interested in knowing why she brought you here... Without telling us.

RK: I see. *Take his sword with him* Should i expect confrontation?

Minako: No, i don't think so.

RK: *open the door* Then we shall- *feel a sensation of dread, as a girl with an umbrella stands in front of the door* -take another door. *Close the door as quickly as he opened it*

Minako: *surprised* Uh? What's wrong?

???: Fu fu fu~ Well, i wasn't expecting that kind of reaction.

Minako: *surprised* Remilia?

Remilia: *sigh* Indeed, i am here for your service... May i enter?

Minako: *seeing how on edge Jaune is* Mr Knight, she won't attack you in any way, may you please open the door?

RK: *Sigh, opening the door*

Remilia: *enter* I never saw you here, *turn to Minako* a new stray perhaps?

Minako: *shaking her head* Yukari brought him here yesterday. We were planning to visit her for more information.

Remilia: *looking at Jaune, scrutinising him* I see, it is not rare that she takes interest from an outsider. Even more so one capable of understanding the danger i might represent in a glance.

RK: *looking down at her* It doesn't take a genius to understand. You smell of blood and the fang doesn't help hiding who you are.

Remilia: Oh? You saw other vampire?

RK: *shaking his head* No, but i know when something isn't human.

Minako: *clapping her hands together, to get their attention* So, you said you had a problem? What's the pay?

Remilia: *turn to Minako* Ah yes. You see, a new unidentified creature has been sighted near my property. I would ask my servants to search for it but...

Minako: *sigh* The fairies are useless?

Remilia: That... Wouldn't be what i would personally say, but yes.

RK: Then why not searching for it by yourself?

Remilia: I have... Other preoccupation. I don't have the time for that.

Minako: *cracking her knuckles* You want it alive or dead?

RK: *placing a hand before her* Before answering that question, do you have any information on it? A description?

Remilia: My head-maid said she saw antlers. But i know there's no deer living near my forest. *Sigh* I wish they did.

RK: *seeming pensive* Antlers, hm...

Minako: *looking at Jaune* You know what it is?

RK: *shaking his head* Well, it's wishful thinking, but maybe i wasn't transported here alone... *Look at Remillia* Show me the way to your manor.

Remilia: Oh~? Not afraid of me anymore?

RK: Afraid? I wasn't afraid of you. I simply didn't want to fight.

Remilia: *smiling* You think you could take me in a fight?

RK: I honestly don't know. I have killed many things but i never fought a Vampire in my life.

Remilia: Oh don't worry, i wouldn't go all out against my favorite miko's guest.

Minako: *sigh* Are you both finished flirting or?

Remilia: *pouting* I am not flirting!

RK: *shaking his head* She's far too young for my taste.

Remilia: *crossing her arm* I'll have you know that i am well over 400 years old! I'm almost 500!

RK: ... *Chuckle while going outside*

Remilia: *perplexed*

Minako: *sigh* From what i heard yesterday? It's a long story.

Remilia: *taking a pensive look* Hm... Is that so?

_____________________

RK: *looking around* The Scarlett Devil manor, uh? It's... A lot less sinister then i expected.

Remilia: *looking at him* What did you take me for? I'm a vampire, not an evil witch.

RK: Can you blame me? The name alone seems sinister, i wasn't expecting a nice place beside a lake.

Remilia: Is that so?

RK: *shaking his head* In any case, that's not really important. *Scratching his now non-existent beard* You said the creature roamed during the day, right?

Remilia: Indeed. Sakuya, my head-maiden, saw it near the gardens... She also said that whatever it was, it seems to like rosebud a little too much.

RK: *nods* I see... By the way, did Minako tell you why she didn't come with us?

Remilia: She needed to go speak with Yukari, didn't she? She can teleport wherever she please in Gensokyo so they probably will get you when you are finished here.

RK: You sound like they will know when i'm finished.

Remilia: Would you be surprised if i told you yes?

RK: Not really. I knew someone like that. *Scratch his neck* Though, she was using creatures to see by their eyes.

Remilia: And you thought i was creepy?

RK: You still smell of blood... And you got some on your clothes.

Remilia: Again!? Is this why you knew i was a vampire?

RK: I mean... Yeah?

Remilia: *sigh*... Just so you know, i don't kill humans when i feed on them. My appetite is far too small.

RK: ... And you never thought about using blood bags?

Remilia: *looking at him disgusted* Have you ever drank warm water from a plastic bottle?

RK: I probably did, but it's been centuries.

Remilia: *crossing her arms* Speaking of, what's that about? How can you be sure you lived centuries?

RK: *shrug* I can't remember. I just know. *Point to his head* Most of my old memories are only figment. As my brain repairs, it loses information. I can't even remember the name of my mother or what she looked like. I just remembered what she was like. And that's the same with everyone i knew.

Remilia: *wincing* Sorry, i didn't know.

RK: *shaking his head* It's in the past. It's not like i can go back anymore.

Remilia: I... See.

RK: *sigh* Just bring me to the garden. You said you had something better to do, right.

Remilia: *realising how long she talked with him* Oh! I completely forgot! *Point to the west of the manor* the gardens are around there, and at this hour you should be able to ask Sakuya if she saw anything today. *Leave in precipitation to her manor*

RK: *sigh* I hope you are there, Juniper.

[sensei-venus]

@gemini-sensei , I might try doing something for this but-

Chubby!Reader who has been with the original group of students from cobra kai. She only ever defected to Miyag-Do after Kreese took over and then she went to Eragle-Fang. 

She's always been in the background, but so far back that not even the other background kids see or talk to her. It's almost like she's not there most of the times. For a long time she tries really hard to get some of any attention at that, but nothing worked. Nothing seemed to get her in the spot light, or even noticed for that matter.

So she just goes to class for her own benefit. Only to go home right afterward. She doesn't bother to stick around after practice, it's not like anyone wants to talk to her or hang out. No one makes a move to get to know her, they hardly even look in her direction most of the time. One of the only times she is noticed is when she's paired up with someone. Then right after they don't say a word to her.

Daniel is the only one who seems to care enough to notice her. He's the only one who tends to talk to her, asking about training, how she's doing, and how's school. More than Johnny ever has with the time she's been learning under him. She feels grateful that he at least takes a liking to her. One of the only reasons she keeps showing up.

But things change quickly one day and she snaps.

One day after a long hard trading session most of the students are talking. Everyone has changed out of their workout clothes before muddling around the dojo. Reader is checking out her bag just to make sure she hasn't forgotten anything important. While she is looking she over hears Miguel and Sam talking to the other students. They are all in tight circle having a conversation, Reader decides to walk over. She gets into hearing range to hear them saying how they should all meet up.

The other students get excited about the new idea.

“Can you just send the info to the group chat? So we can all know the time and place to show up?” solemn says. Everyone nods which has Reader stumped.

Group chat? What group chat?

Moments later the huge group starts to split up leaving Reader confused. She quickly tries to flag someone down before they can all leave.

“Hey so you have the group chat info-”

“Can you by chance send me the group chat-”

“Can you add me-”

Every single one of them seem to ignore her. Walking right past her, paying no mind to her or any of her questions. They just leave her standing there, hurt and clueless. Clearly, all of them were part of some dojo group chat. One where they shared group plans and hung out together. Maybe they even talked about things besides what went on at the dojo. What real friends did.

But now it was crystal clear to her, she wasn't their friend and they weren't hers either.

Her attempts at trying to be nice where useless. When she tried to talk to them during class or before, when she offered to help with school work, even when she tried her best to be a shoulder to cry on. None of it seemed to be enough for them to notice her. To care that she was trying to be apart of their friend group.

Even the slight crushes she developed on some of them.

There was no use in trying anymore.

This was the final straw.

That day she left the dojo with a heavy heart and a mind full of deep honest questions about what she needed to do. The dojo was no longer much of a comfort. Being there only made her feel like a outcast, out of place and cold. Why keep going if she could not build any relationships with her peers? While karate itself kept her busy and happy, the environment she was in did not. It only brought her down. 

Days passed and time ticked along with all of her thoughts about the dojo. Until one afternoon she decided on her final decision.

She folded up her gi and drove to the dojo.

She looked at Daniel’s face as he sadly took the crisp gi from her hands.

“I don't think I should be in an environment where I'm invisible to those around me. It's not fair to me or them. I'm sorry Sensei.” she bowed lowly to Daniel.

His lips draw down into a slight frown, brows knit as he watches the girl bow.

“I understand, not feeling as if your peers are behind you can be difficult. She shouldn't feel the pain of not fully knowing if they would stick behind you as you would them. I would hope that this is not the last time I see you. I can only hope you don't give up karate over this. You are a great student Reader.” his words priced her heart a little. Standing up she looked at him, her own eyes filled with sadness. She did her best to hold back the tears that slowly started to well in her eyes.

“I promise Sensei, I won't forget all the things you taught me. Maybe one day I can come back. Maybe then I will have a bit more confidence.” her voice cracks a little. With one final nod she turns around and walks away. She gives one last look around, knowing this might be the last time she ever sees the beautiful yard. Sighing she walks back to her car in silence, leaving the small lot without even a second glance.

When the next class comes around, no one notices anything missing. Everyone gets into their respective groups and stands ready for the days lesson.

“So we are going to pair up for today's lesson. So let's all get into pairs and start.” Johnny booms from the front of the group of teens. Quickly everyone starts to team up. Already knowing who they want to be paired with.

“Uhh sensei, I don't have a partner. I think everyone is paired up but me.” its Bert who speaks up.

“What so you mean you don't have a partner?” Johnny questions. They had never has a odd am out of students before. There has always been a even amount among the dojo.

Who wasn't there today? He looks around finding all the familiar faces he knows. He accounts for all of them which has him scratching his head.

“Shit that's my fault Johnny, I completely forgot to tell you. Reader quiet last class, I should have told you as soon as she came to me.”

There was a long pause between the two men. Even the teens stopped to listen in.

“Who?”

“Reader? Last Name? Do you seriously not remember your own student? Now that I'm thinking about it she was a part of your dojo before mine. I would have thought you would have noticed her missing.”

“Still blanking.”

Daniel doesn't even want to keep talking to the man. It's like talking to a brick wall with him.

This idea started to die, but I like to think Poly! Hawk, Sam, Demetri, Robby and Miguel start to feel bad about not paying attention to Reader. They end up following her around school, trying to figure out what they can do to make her come back to the dojo.

But it quickly goes from just trying to get an old teammate to come back to “Oh no we might have started to develop a crush on the girl.”.

[midnightmagicks]

FFXIV 30 Day Writing Challenge Day 26: Zip

Zip: Move at high speed.

TW: NSFW !! Naughty kitsune ahead

It had been….a few months now. A few months with not so much a wisp of Daichi’s existence. It wasn’t entirely unlike the odd yokai to disappear for a time, zipping in and out of their lives upon his own whims. This was however…one of the longest amounts of time he’d gone without bothering Hajime. Unfortunately for Daichi though, Hajime was petty. 

Upon receiving the explicit (and rudely put) instruction not to enter his little portal domain, Hajime complied completely. He wouldn’t so much as think about that place. The place he knew Daichi was more than likely stuck in, currently. A lesson in the consequences of taking a tone with the fickle kitsune that is Hajime.

But, unfortunately for Hajime, Daichi had finally gotten out. 

And after a rampage in the sun and sea, he found himself standing on the interior of Hajime’s room. There was an intensity behind his stare that manifested around him, pulses of energy coming from hairline cracks along his body. He smirked, though his eyes held nothing friendly. 

“Well, hello there Hajime.  Lovely to see you again. Did you miss me?” Hajime looked over the teacup that had just made its way to his lips. So much for his peace and quiet. With a roll of his eyes, he set the teacup delicately down, not bothering to stand nor look at the intruder. His tail flicked lazily and as his gaze was on his own clawed hand. He flexed it in thinly veiled threat when his eyes drifted to the other; The guise of apathy oozing from his tone when he finally spoke. 

“Is there nothing better to do with your new-found freedom than ruin my day? I’m sure you have other things to attend to.”

Daichi’s muscles tensed, a vein popping on his forehead. Clearly agitated, his tail swished violently and he bared his fangs in a dangerous grin. “I’ve had several months ruined because you couldn’t be bothered to come find me.” “Am I your keeper? Why is that my responsibility?” “Not that I enjoy admitting this to you, you self centered ass, but you’re powerful enough to break me through the barrier that occasionally traps me.” “I seem to recall you being the one to tell me to stay out of your space.” “That obviously doesn’t apply when I’m trapped.”

“You never specified that.” The pair bickered back and forth as Daichi got increasingly agitated. He dug his claws into the palms of his hands as his body trembled with barely contained energy. Hajime seemed calm and collected, simply relaxing on his couch. This only enraged Daichi further. He couldn’t take it. 

With a snarl, his form shifted and stuttered as he teleported almost instantly across the room and on top of Hajime, pinning him against the couch with his hands gripping his collar. 

“I could kill you right now, you annoying prick. I will tear your throat out with my teeth��”

Hajime grinned wickedly, seemingly unconcerned with the sudden violence. His hands gripped Daichi’s upper arms, claws digging in enough to draw blood as he dragged crimson lines down towards his elbows. 

“I invite you to try, pup. Though…I do think there are better ways for you to occupy your obnoxious mouth.”

Despite his pettiness, Hajime had to admit he was *bored*. And what better way to cure boredom? His eyes drifted over the other’s rage-filled features, lingering on his lips before looking back into those mismatched eyes. 

Those eyes widened at the words, seemingly taken….completely off guard. For a moment. His eyebrows furrowed, and he growled lowly. “I won’t be nice to you, Hajime.” “I’m not asking you to be.” Daichi sat there, hands still gripping the other’s collar, unmoving. He stared as if battling something in his own brain. The swirl of feelings and pent-up energy confusing his thoughts. Too slow. Hajime grew impatient and huffed before snapping “Useless idiot.” at him and surging forward, crashing their lips together harshly. There was no affection or gentleness in it. All animalistic urges. That was enough to snap Daichi from his haze and he growled again, finally releasing the other’s shirt to begin fumbling with the complicated and pretentious robes Hajime was wearing. He’d managed to get the robes parted in time for Hajime to bite his bottom lip. Harshly. Daichi’s face reeled back and he swore, Bringing a hand up to harshly grab Hajime’s jaw. He tasted blood and would have felt a surge of anger had Hajime not whined at his grip.  That sent a different feeling prickling across his skin and he flicked his tail, feeling weirdly proud.

“Huh…interesting.”

“Shu–Shut up, Daichi.”

All the while, Daichi’s free hand had undone the tie on the front of Hajime’s pants, his touch wandering until his hand was around the blonde man’s length. This made Hajime dig his nails in harder, muscles twitching as he desperately searched for more friction. 

Daichi grinned, firmly pressing their lips together, blood from the earlier bite staining the other as well. When he pulled away, he looked at Hajime’s face, seeing his pupils blown wide and cheeks reddened. Smugly, he spoke in between catching his breath,

“You look pathetically desperate.”

“Relying on Leeja for– for entertainment gets old after a while, you know.”

The other’s expression changed and he groaned, pulling a face.

“.....Can you not talk about him while my hand is shoved down your pants, please?”

Hajime barked a laugh at the other's disgusted tone. His laugh faded into a stuttered sigh quickly as Daichi moved his hand quickly, effectively shutting the smaller kitsune up for a moment. Squirming against that hand, Hajime looked into mismatched eyes with his remaining shred of defiance. His breathing was heavy, but he squared his jaw. 

“You wo– *hnngh*-- won't make me beg. *Get on with it.*”

As he said, it wasn’t a beg. It was a demand.  

“Easy, hime. I'm in control right now–”

“Daichi, I will skin you alive if you ever call me that again–”

“Stop acting like a princess, then.” Daichi jolted violently when he felt a hand snake across the front of his pants suddenly before slipping down under the band of his underwear. A finger caressed the head with too much gentleness before the hand wrapped around his shaft. Hajime leaned in, grinning against his throat as Daichi hissed out a strangeled sounding “Fuck-”. Slowly but with purpose, Hajime moved hand down and then back up, repeating this motion a few times. He felt the other’s tensing and quivering with his movements, chuckling cruelly as he froze his motions. Daichi growled and Hajime bit down on the junction between shoulder and neck, causing another snarl. “Hajime…” “Shut up and behave. I’m not done playing with you yet, pup. You're not the one in charge anymore.”

----------- Daichi belongs to @soulshards :) I have decided I cannot submit these at the deadline because it STRESSES ME OUT so I am doing this entirely chaotically for the remainder of ffxivwrite yeehaw lessgo--

[wannaeatramyeon]

Reader telling off and piquing Sammy’s interest pls

Roll up roll up, time for Samuel's degradation hours. Er... so you know how I said I don't really do NSFW? This is a little steamy. Just a touch. A tad.

This is the first time I've even tried to write NSFW, IT ALL JUST CAME OUT (that's what she said). I am so so sorry if this is completely off the mark of what you asked!

Samuel Seo x Reader: Degradation

A little NSFW

You've been a thorn in Samuel's side for the last couple months. A VVIP along with strict instructions from Eugene to show the best Worker's hospitality.

Too bad you are at each other's throat from the moment you walk in.

"This thug is the president?"

Samuel wears one of his closed-eye smiles, especially prepared for the likes of someone like you. He lets your words wash over him, "All the better to look after you while on Worker's grounds, Y/N."

"Y/N? A bit familiar are we?"

"Sorry ma'am," he forces himself to bow.

.

.

Samuel dismisses you as another worthless rich daddy's girl, fed full with silver spoonfuls of nepotism.

"This is what you do all the time? Pointless meetings and admin?"

"That's how C-suites at my level operate. Maybe this is useful work experience for you." He eyes you lying lazily on his office sofa. He can't find any errors with his initial judgement of you.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that it might be useful for you to see how the way of the world works "

.

.

As the weeks fly by, your distaste for each other only grows.

"The president of the affiliates following me around like a dog. Don't you have anything better to do?" You round on him in a quiet corridor, digging your nail into his chest.

Samuel grabs a hold of your hand, "I only babysit those that are unable to take care of themselves."

Your face is inches away from his, "How dare you speak to me that way."

Samuel leans in close, murmuring in your ear, "I will speak to you however I want."

"I can't believe Eugene has partnered me with someone as useless as you,"

Samuel lowers himself to look you straight in the eye and baring his fangs, "Maybe you haven't shown your usefulness."

.

.

Each run in with you leaves him more and more heated.

Sometimes at night, Samuel would dream of ways to shut you up. Your mouth only screaming streams of unintelligble words and moans as he uses and abuses you.

In reality or fantasies, the way you look at him stays the same. Eyes full of revulsion and loathing. He prefers it that way.

.

.

You are exceptionally vexing and distracting one evening. Taking up your usual position, lounging on the office sofa as he works towards a deadline behind the desk.

You could have left a while ago, but something about making Samuel's life harder spurs you on.

"Enough, Y/N." Samuel has heard enough of your garbage. "I hear you need Workers as much as we need you."

"Excuse me?"

"So why don't you be a good little girl and behave."

Samuel watches you out of the corner of his eye, striding towards him with purpose. You slam your hands down on either side of his chair.

"Would you like to check your previous statement with Eugene? Because we sure don't need your little company."

"That's not what my sources-"

"I don't care what your sources say. If I walk away now, you and the whole of Workers is fucked."

Shit.

"You should really do your due diligence." He doesn't respond. You know you've got him against the wall.

You lean close.

"You can't touch a hair on my pretty little head, President Seo." You have never addressed him this way before, but fuck if Samuel doesn't feel his body flush at how the words sound coming out of you.

"You can't touch me at all." Samuel's eyes flicker down to your lips.

"And I can do whatever I want." You don't miss the way his eyes rove all over you. You think of a new way to domesticate this wild dog.

"Do you feel like a big man walking around as president? With all these little ants below you?" Samuel feels himself being pulled forward as you twirl his tie around your finger.

Usually he would stop this, but tonight he finds you aggravating, maddening, intoxicating.

"Did you pick out your glasses and style your hair and wear that cologne to impress everyone around you?" His adam's apple bobs as you inhale deeply from his neck, lips almost touching.

"To show how beneath you everyone is?" Feeling the ghost of your breath sends a thrill down Samuel's spine.

"Mr. President, I don't need any of that to show my power." Your tongue darts out for a taste as he releases a shaky breath.

"Let me guess, you rose up from nothing." You walk your talons along his inner thighs, feeling the muscles twitch underneath.

"You made it here and think you can go further." Your hands finally find what they are looking for. You grab onto his hardened length and squeeze.

Samuel represses a whimper, biting his lip to stop any sounds from leaking out. This is humiliating enough as it is. But he is powerless to stop your onslaught.

"You think you have that little badge and meaningless title, and you can speak to me like an equal." Samuel starts to pant as you take his earlobe between your teeth.

Your hand is relentless. You are not gentle.

"You are insignificant. The definition of mediocrity. Pathetic." Fuck. Samuel looks at you with anger and hostility. Never in his fantasies did he think the roles would be reversed, and so goddamn exhilarating. He can't bring himself to make you stop.

"Playing dress up and pretending to be a man?" You backhand him, knocking his glasses askew. Complete desire clouds his eyes.

"When really you're just a disgusting little boy?" Your hand moves even quicker, gripping harder, and Samuel feels his body tense as he draws closer to release.

"Who can barely keep themselves together in the presence of a woman?" You give him another harsh slap, and the cool air stings his cheek.

Finally, he allows himself to groan. Your name slips out unbidden between his lips.

"You will only do as I say, move as I say, think as I say." You suddenly remove your hands and Samuel barely stops himself from whimpering at the loss of friction.

"I own you, and everything around you."

You roughly grab his face, forcing him to refocus on you.

"Now come for me."

Samuel eyes widen equally in pleasure and horror.

The realisation sinks in a split second before anything happens, but there's nothing he can do to stop himself reacting to your words.

You silence his groans with a kiss as he comes undone.

[whumpshaped]

No magic, but does Beck have any self defense instincts? I know he probably wouldn't consciously react on them, but.... Would he ever do something like bite Helle if they spooked him suddenly?

of course! beck is a vampire after all! a predator! big scary!

masterlist bingo card

tw vampire whumper, vampire whumpee, conditioned whumpee, fear of punishment, manipulation, mind games

Life in the mansion was quite cosy and peaceful, for the most part. Aside from the general levels of anxiety and the sometimes debilitating loneliness and isolation, Beck had nothing to complain about. He could almost completely forget about being a runt, with the steady supply of blood Helle was allowing him.

Never completely, though, of course. Because Helle reminded him. And they reminded him often.

Because of how sheltered he was, Beck really had little idea of how his vampire instincts worked. He never really got a proper feel for how strong he actually was, because Helle was stronger, and they were all he could compare himself to — safe to say, he wasn't prepared to see the coffee table snap in half after he'd banged on it out of frustration. He spent the entire evening apologising to Helle for ruining the furniture.

He didn't really use his speed either, unless he was running away from a human who accidentally spooked him. After having woken up to a group of hunters breaking into the mansion, he was extra jumpy, and he didn't hesitate to flee from any situation that made him feel even mildly threatened. Being able to catch his phone ten times out of ten was a nice bonus, he supposed.

'Fighting' and 'self-defence' never even crossed his mind. Once again, the only person he regularly interacted with was Helle, a vampire far stronger than he was. There was no reason to fight them, and no chance of defending himself. He was magicless, too, and from what he'd gathered, that meant he was absolutely useless in a violent setting; so that was exactly how he lived his life.

Until one night, Helle decided to sneak up on him.

He hardly remembered the exact sequence of events. He'd heard a noise, someone touched him– it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he'd sank his fangs right into Helle's hand, and he was still holding that hand in his mouth, and his jaw was completely locked up from the shock and anxiety.

Helle blinked at him a couple times. "So..." They gently tugged on their hand. "Any chance of me getting my hand back?"

Beck let out a soft whine, and finally released his hold. "I'm so sorry," he said immediately after. "I– I got scared– I'm sorry, I don't know why that was my first thought– and then I just, I just couldn't open my mouth, I got too anxious, it's a thing that happens when I'm anxious–"

As Helle slowly lifted their hand he quieted down, mortified to see the two puncture wounds he'd caused. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Helle was going to muzzle him, they were going to pull his fangs out with pliers, they were going to wire his mouth shut.

"Do you think this is appropriate behaviour?" they asked, and Beck tried to make himself a little smaller.

"N-no, Master. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to–"

"Did I ask for excuses?"

He was trembling now, shaking his head frantically. "No, Master."

I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry please at least let me say I'm sorry–

"Dogs who bite get put down," they said softly, cocking their head to the side. "Are you going to bite again?"

"No!" he cried desperately, tears welling up in his eyes. "No, Master, please, I'm sorry–"

Helle burst out laughing, making him stop his pathetic grovelling for a second. Was that... good? Was he entertaining enough not to be put down?

They licked the blood off their hand, still smiling. "Fret not, dear, you are always such a good boy for me. I am merely teasing." They stepped away and Beck let out a relieved sigh, only for Helle to swiftly remind him that being on edge was a constant in their home. "But do keep in mind that I bite back, yes?"

~

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @the-cyrulik @pirefyrelight @there-will-always-be-blood @pigeonwhumps @echo-goes-mmm @whumpycries @morning-star-whump @d-cs @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @tauntedoctopuses @blueyellow8green @typewrittenfangs @whumpsoda @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @auroragehenna