#v;; time to show some sharper teeth

[diolanza]

" shut up and let me help you. " / eros?

blood, blood, gallons of the stuff !

Eros flinched at the others tone, panicked babbling coming to a halt. Watery pink eyes stared at the swordsman from Eros' position on the ground. A shaking hand pressed against the reopened wound on his side, a little treat he'd picked up from his crew's visit to Dressrosa. When his captain had all but forced him to board the Sunny as an envoy, they'd said something about being careful and roughly smacked his back before pushing him onto the plank.

❝ Sh-shouldn't your doctor help me or...? ❞ Eros croaked, ❝ If it helps this used to be wor- ❞

A sudden wave of dizziness sent the hybrid spinning. Gaze darkened and around him the sound of the waves crashing against the sides of the ship sounded far, far away, Eros narrowed his eyes, struggling to focus on the pirate standing over him.

He smirked, his free hand pushing black locks from his sweating brow, ❝ Zoro...You've got such a massive chest. Can I see it closer if ya' help me? ❞

[diolanza]

Cheeks puffed up with annoyance, a habit picked up from Eros' wrasse older sibling. It'd be unwise to assume that the Revolutionary Army would welcome him with open arms. Their distrust of outsiders was reasonable, especially after the loss of their previous base of operations. The other refusing to properly introduce himself was inconsequential in the end, and it made sense just like the lack of trust. Yet, Eros huffed and pulled back enough so the spray of his cologne wouldn't further agitate his guide.

❝ ...I just wanna make a good impression is all, ❞ He was terribly hyper aware of his anxiety making him akin to a scared child, ❝ Unless I gotta tear someone's arm off like I normally do... ❞

at the question eyes narrowed a bit “  no need for you to know . ” to put it bluntly he doubted they would work anywhere near the same fields besides if the other was this nervous for nothing the revelation of his reputation would probably result in pure panic.

“  . . . if it helps , do as you like ” this whole conversation made him question allot of things , after all it made it sound like a first interview for some kind of cooperation like a desk job.

“  though i don't know where you got the idea that we'd be smelling anyone . . . ” even among the minks doing that was a bit much.

[cryptidghostgirl]

Make You Wish Chapter Four -- Vox

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: I don't think there are any for this chapter? Correct me if I am wrong.

Word Count: 1,225

Previous Part: Chapter Three -- A Reunion

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List 

Make You Wish Master List

A/N I wasn't planning on posting this until tomorrow, but it seems to have some rather excited fans so here is chapter four (and the fourth thing I'm publishing today. We're very done for the day. I am tried and have actual work to do.) Also guys, I'm screaming. I accidentally deleted the whole things right before I was gonna post it. Thankfully I had a draft from when it was almost done save but like, god that sucked.

On the screen was Vox, seated behind a desk.

"Top of the hour and we're discussing a certain has-been how has been spotted cavorting around town after a seven year absence." Vox was saying, a poorly drawn image of Alastor displayed on the screen to his left.

Y/n saw Alastor's ear twitch with irritation.

"Yeah." she sighed, folding her arms across her chest, "Vox has gone kinda crazy since you left. I told you, things got tough."

"Did anybody miss him? Did anybody notice? More on tonight's program." Vox said through the TV, shuffling a stack of papers.

Alastor changed the channel with another flick of his finger.

"Hun, don't worry yourself with it." Y/n advised, "He's still gonna be there tomorrow."

The new channel showed a talk-show set up, Vox-2-Nite, where Vox was both host and guest.

"So, the old Radio Demon is back in town." host Vox was saying to himself as guest.

"Why is he hanging around?" guest Vox asked, taking a sip from a mug that had 'fuck Alastor' written on the side.

"Al." Y/n warned, sensing her friends irritation growing.

"What does that mean for your family?" Host Vox asked before Alastor changed the channel again.

Vox was on the screen again, before a bright red curtain.

"Well, handily, I've got good news." he was saying theatrically, "He's a loser, a fossil, and I don't mean to sound hostel-"

Alastor changed the channel again. This time to one of Vox's mega church broadcasts. Vox stood in the center of the screen wearing a pope's hat with an inverted cross on it.

"But the demon is a coward!" he announced, his words matching the previous channels sentiments perfectly.

"Jesus, V." Y/n asked, eyes wide, "How many channels are you running this on?"

"You can take that as gospel. Pulling my viewers? Impossible. I'm visual, he's barely audible."

"Y/n." Alastor hummed, his eyes still fixed on the screen.

"Yeah?"

"You wont mind if I handle this quickly. We can have our little chat after, I promise. It wont take more than a moment."

"I don't know, Al..." Y/n sighed, crossing her arms and tapping her foot slightly, "This isn't good for you, letting him get under your skin like this."

Alastor changed the channel again. A cooking show appeared and Vox was standing before the oven, singing along to the music playing in the background.

"But he should've stayed away! While he hid in radio, we pivoted to video!"

Vox on screen turned to the oven as he sang, opening it and pulling out a deer's head on a plate. Y/n bristled at the site, her horns growing just the tiniest bit longer, her teeth just the smallest bit sharper.

"And now his medium is getting bloody rare!"

"Al?" Y/n asked sharply.

"Yes, darling?"

"I lied." Y/n turned to face him, "He took this shit musical. Rip him a new one."

"Oh!" Millie exclaimed, excitedly grabbing onto Moxxie's arm, "We're gonna get a show!"

Alastor's grin widened at Y/n's words, if that was even possible. He stuck his hand out to the side, his microphone materializing in his grasp.

"Lucky for me, I've got the best voice this side of the divide on my side." he noted, shooting Y/n a look.

Her eyes flashed red.

"You flatter me."

Alastor brought his microphone to his mouth, suddenly exceedingly calm. The imps present in the room watched in shock as his ears flattened along his head.

"Salutations, good to be back on the air!" he announced into the device, "Yes I know it's been a while since someone with style treated hell to a broadcast. Sinners rejoice!"

Vox's brow furrowed on the TV screen as he inched up close to the camera.

"What a dated voice." Vox shot back, clearly listening to Alastor's broadcast on the set of his cooking show.

"Instead of a clout chasing, mediocre, video podcast." Alastor continued, not showing any sign he had noticed the TV demon's insult, "Is Vox insecure, pursuing allure? Flitting between this fad and that, is nothing working?"

"Ignore his chirping!" Vox commanded from the TV.

Y/n laughed and, turning to face Alastor, realized the man held a hand out to her. With a smile, she took it and he spun her into his arms as he spoke. The music echoed through the office as Alastor raised the volume on the TV once again.

"Every day he's got a new format."

Alastor spun Y/n back out again as the pair began dancing.

"You're looking at the future!" Vox yelled back, "He's the shit that comes before that!"

As Alastor spun Y/n back into his arms, she laid one of her hands on top of his holding the microphone and pulled it closer to her face.

"Is Vox as strong as he purports, or is it based on his support?" she sang in a clear voice, Blitzo, Millie, and Moxxie's eyes widening with recognition at the sound, "He'd be powerless without the other Vees."

"That's true!" Alastor noted, pulling the microphone back to himself as Y/n let go of his hand and he spun her back out again.

"It can't be..." Moxxie muttered under his breath.

"Holy shit!" Millie cut him off, excitement creeping into her voice, "There's no way, Y/n is the guest star?"

"The fuck are you two talking about?" Blitzo asked, turning to Millie and Moxxie as they watched the couple continue to dance.

"Well, Sir," Moxxie began, fiddling with the cuffs of his jacket, "back before the Radio Demon went missing, he used to bring guests onto the show on occasion. There was one guest he never named during his broadcasts however. She mostly just sang songs and chatted with him but, she sounded an awful lot like Y/n did just now."

"You don't say." Blitzo hummed, his arms crossed as he turned back to Y/n and Alastor, "So much for little miss 'oh, my life has been so boring. You'd probably just fall asleep if I started talking about it!' She is so gonna get it later."

Alastor let go of Y/n's hand and leaned into the microphone, beginning to sing as well, using the music emanating from the TV as a base.

"And here's the sugar on the cream: he asked me to join his team!"

"Hold on!" Vox yelled.

"I said no and now he's pissy, that's the tea!" Alastor finished, ignoring the demon once again.

"You old timey prick!" Vox exclaimed, his face glitching slightly as Y/n wandered back over to Alastor.

She leaned an elbow on his shoulder, tilting her head to the side in amusement as they watched Vox struggle.

"I'll show you suffering!"

"Aww, the TV is buffering." Y/n said, leaning into the microphone, her voice dripping with sickly sweet pity.

"I'll destroy yoo-o-u-u" Vox exclaimed as his technical difficulties seemed to grow worse.

Alastor and Y/n exchanged a wicked pair of smiles as the TV flickered out. Shadows crept from the edges of the room, encircling their feet. Alastor held an arm out to Y/n once again which she took with a smile. In a flash of darkness, they were gone.

"What the fuck was that?" Loona asked, stalking into the room.

----

Next Part -> Chapter Five -- The Conversation

[ariseur]

'Ello luv, it's been a while since I saw someone writing for DMC ugh, miss when dmc(5) was trending... What a good time!

I don't know if your requests are open or not, but catch up with me!! Our pretty girls and boys with a vampire!reader! Or or— A WITCH! BOTH

Like, you choose if it's a bunch of headcanons, blurbs, a full one shot with a character or not, I just really want to see it!

Well, obviously if you can do it honey, if you can't it's fine <3

dmc crew dating a vampire 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

devil may cry x reader

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

this was actually my first request on this blog!! i don’t know why i put it off for so long bc it’s literally so cool?? i ended up just doing a vampire instead of witch/vampire witch so i hope you guys enjoy considering my phone crashed trying to copy n paste this from my notes to tumblr 💋

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

blood (but in the vampire way ykyk), fangs and mentions of sharp teeth, intended lowercase, kinda spoilers for dmc5 in v’s,

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓓ANTE — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ you are literally so hot in DANTE’s eyes, you could honestly do no wrong.

❥ i think you guys already know what i’m gonna say..

❥ if you feed on blood or need it for some sort of sustenance, dante will gladly volunteer. he thinks it’s the hottest thing ever.

❥ although, i’m not sure if vampires much like demon blood..

❥ eh, oh well. dante will still think it’s attractive, especially if you have fangs or some sort of sharper canines.

❥ only downside to being a vampire and dating dante is that you’ll occasionally hear a super bad transylvanian accent. like.. really bad.

❥ but!! if you’re also a demon hunter like him— and you have some cool freaky powers like draining blood or energy from empusas or really just any ability that’s useful, it’s heart eyes all around from him.

❥ you could be covered in blood or feasting on something and then you’ll spot dante in the corner wielding devil sword dante after defeating like seventy fuckin other demons and he’s just.. mesmerized.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓥ERGIL — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ VERGIL’s much more curious about your species. do you have any weaknesses? are the fictionalized versions of your kind portrayed accurately? what are you exactly?

❥ luckily he’s a lot more quiet about his curiosity compared to, maybe— nico. his staring is intimidating, though. when he sits with you or near you, he’ll usually just study you. maybe it looks like he’s judging but he’s really just analyzing your appearance. especially if you have any distinctive features.

❥ if you have that dark ruddy aesthetic, he’ll likely admire from afar even if red isn’t exactly his favorite color.

❥ if you really needed it, he’d let you feed off of him although it’s definitely not his first choice. he’s not really a fan of being bitten, especially if you need to bite his neck or something like that.

❥ probably finds some esoteric artistic poem or painting with an underlying meaning of having to do with vampires and thinks of you every time he looks at it.

❥ his gothic poetic side is showing

❥ ugh i just wanna kiss his scowl so bad but i also wanna punch him.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓝ERO — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ nero literally thinks it’s so cool.

❥ he might be a little wary once he first meets you? like are you gonna tackle him rn and sacrifice him with your own lil blood ritual?

❥ but once he finds out you’re docile or that you pick and choose on whom you feed on, he’s like, “oh okay that’s cool”

❥ probably like dante where the only version he knows of vampires are the hollywood adaptations of them. so like.. he’s confused if you can go into sunlight? or you can eat certain foods? or if you can go near churches??

❥ he, too, thinks you’re super hot. however!! very iffy about you drinking blood or feeding in front of him. not like it grosses him out but it’s kinda.. weird to watch for him?? idk.

❥ another thing is that he doesn’t want you biting him at all. he’s like vergil where he’ll be baffled if you even ask, except he’s super hesitant to offer himself unless you’re super injured and in dire need of it.

❥ just step on him to shut him up atp

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓥 — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ V’s goth ass won’t shut up about how divine your species is and how fascinating he finds you.

❥ curious on your feeding habits and what you essentially need to survive, tries to find any and every book that he can about vampires so he can learn about you even more.

❥ he’s like those people who romanticize the 1800s or the salem witch trials or greece or ethel cain or lana del rey while kicking their feet and posting about it. he will find a way to make the situation poetic, trust me.

❥ finds it amusing if you’re annoyed by griffon’s teasing and threaten to eat him first if you were to ever go rogue, you might even be able to get a close mouthed chuckle out of v.

❥ utterly fascinated by just your very being, even if it’s just mundane traits. especially loves to see your fangs, dunno why but they’re just aesthetically pleasing to him.

❥ considering he’s kinda like a deteriorating human that’s basically turning into a husk, i wouldn’t recommend feeding on him unless you plan to kill him—which who would wanna murder our emo bae right here? (capcom)

❥ the type of person to roll his eyes at false folklore and representation because he’s literally in love with an actual vampire?? how dare they portray you like this??

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓛ADY — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ LADY also finds you super hot!!

❥ also interested because she’s probably never seen a vampire outside of media— so it’s a nice change of pace rather than being face to face with demons all day.

❥ despite all this, after the initial introduction, i’m not sure she’d care too hard? like— sure, you’re considered a supernatural being and all that.

❥ and although she thinks it’s super dope, i feel like it wouldn’t matter as much to her. she’s seen and done a lot of things at such a young age, i feel as though she’s almost desensitized?

❥ she’s so badass she can’t even care. she’s literally respected by dante, whom is titled ‘the legendary devil hunter’. (dmc5 did her dirty with her lack of part in the storyline 💔)

❥ she’ll respect any of your needs, and ngl also thinks you biting into her neck is hot.

❥ kinda surprised that you’re able to go out into sunlight even if she’ll never tell you that 😭

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓣RISH — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ another one who doesn’t care that much. it’s not like TRISH is dismissive of your species and where you come from, but she’s literally a full on demon who’s probably seen everything.

❥ you guys r so hot though, like the ultimate power couple.

❥ oh, and if you’re a devil hunter, too? you guys r gonna kick sm ass together. she’ll invite you to roll around with her for a while rather than with dante, although if you’re associated with devil may cry then that’s fine too. she’ll put up with dante’s ass just to visit you more often.

❥ i don’t recommend feeding off of trish?

❥ idk how vampires take to drinking demon blood

❥ but shit, if you have that red aesthetic and are just a total femme fatale (or other gender equivalent to that), trish is in charge of your outfits now.

❥ don’t even fight it, you will end up in the outfit regardless.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓝ICO — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ oh boy

❥ if you’re lucky enough to survive the first meeting with NICO and you end up actually being in a relationship? you are def a trooper.

❥ when you’re first introduced, she bombards you with questions.

❥ where did you come from? do you have powers? are you like a demon and are there more of you? if so, can she harvest parts for a new bio-weapon? do vampires reproduce the same as humans? are you gonna suck her blood??

❥ she’s just a curious lady cut my girl some slack

❥ she thinks you’re so cool though!! wants you to tell her everything you know about vampires so she can log it. even if you’ve been in a long term relationship, she still can’t help but ask more questions.

❥ but!! as cool and hot as she thinks you are— like nero, she does not wanna see you feed and does not wanna be fed on!! (except.. maybe just one time to see how it feels.)

❥ ugh she just loves you sm please indulge her

[tiredmetalenthusiast]

Monsters walk at night (Monster!Price x f!reader)

Another one for @glitterypirateduck Price writing challenge!

Scenarios used, 16. ‘A Pursuit takes place’ and 44. 'A world where mates exist':

Warnings: monster fucking, NSFW, unprotected p in v, partial smut, literally getting chased down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It started off as an innocent walk through the woods by the large cabin Price had rented, (seemed more like a house when you saw it), stating you all needed a break. He had distributed the rooms when you all had arrived, securing the perimeter and making sure the security cameras and alarm system worked. You remember the day clearly.

The fridge was fully stocked as were the bathrooms, all the amenities needed for a few days stay away from civilization. You walked into the kitchen getting ready to make some food, the drive there was long and you were absolutely starving. “What are ye plannin ta make and can I have some because I am famished.” You turned to find Johnny strolling into the kitchen. “Well I wasn’t offering to make dinner just looking for a snack, but it’d be a shame to have the cabin burn down.” Johnny groans from the table, “It was one time bonnie! Was nae like I was plannin on burnin the place up!” “Johnny you set the place ablaze tryin to make CUP OF SOUP!” “I was tired!”

Price walked in shaking his head as Ghost and Gaz came in behind him chuckling. Simon piped up, “So you makin food or not?” You roll your eyes, “I’ll make a steaming pile of dog shit just for you Ghost.” “Make sure it has garlic and potatoes, yeah?” After dinner was decided on, (not dog shit), everyone settled in for the night with the exception of you and John. “Fancy a walk luv? There are lights on the trails.” You think about it for a minute and nod, “Sure. Seems like a nice night, gotta walk off that meal too.” You both chuckle and walk outside, the night warm so there was no need for jackets.

You both had been walking for about 20 minutes, the scenery beautiful and calming, making small talk as the scent of Price’s cigar smoke wafts around in the night air. The light from the cigars burning tip gave Price’s already attractive features a boost, almost making him look scary in the dark of the woods. “You know, I could use a bit more exercise. Up for a chase?” You look at him confused as he takes a hit from his cigar and blows the smoke upwards, the red embers showing in his eyes.

He leans closer as you take a step back, his eyes gleaming, his teeth seeming sharper. “Run.” That was all you needed as you took off into the trees. You don’t know how long you ran before you finally heard his boots hitting the ground behind you. He was far but not by much, the sound of his boots thudding loudly, almost like he was heavier now. You had briefly stopped behind a large rock but continued when you heard his voice ring through the forest, loud and strange. “Run all you want sweetheart. I can smell you from a mile away.”

You had barely made it to a clearing when you were tackled from behind. You managed to turn over, finding Price but he looked different. Horns protruded from his head, a spiked tail swaying behind him, teeth razor sharp and eyes glowing like the flames of hell. “Caught you darling. Smelled you the second you started running. Getting chased down turn you on?” You blushed, turning your head away. Sure you had always found Price attractive, you knew he wasn’t totally human, and maybe you had some disrespectfully spicy dreams about him, so who could blame you for being turned on.

He nudged your cheek before moving to your neck, inhaling your scent. “My mate.” “What?” “You’re my mate luv. Smelled it the second you walked onto base.” “ O-oh, um I-“ “Do you accept? I may be a monster but I’m not an asshole. I’ve seen your dreams, heard your whispers.” “This isn’t a joke right? Because…I love you, have for a while and if this is some weird or cruel joke just so you can get laid it’s not funny.”

His eyes widened, stunned. “You think so low of me? That I would make a joke of something so serious?” You shake your head no and he sighs in relief. Nuzzling into your neck, he licks and groans as he tastes your flesh mixed with sweat. “Do you accept?” You nod, “Words, dearest.” “I accept.” A rumble forms in his chest as you kiss him and you both begin to undress. You had felt the bulge of him rubbing against your thigh through the talk and it had you needy.

To say he was large was an understatement as you openly stared at the size of him. “It’ll fit fine luv, no worries.” You nodded hesitantly, “Please be gentle.” He kisses you to smooth your nerves as he slowly pushes in, catching all your pretty noises in his mouth. “That’s it darling. You were made to take me.” He was only half way in but you already felt so full of him but he continued to slip inside unhindered. When his hips finally connected with your’s he left out a drawn out moan into the night air and pulled back slowly. “I hope you’re ready sweetheart, because it’s about to be a long night.” Running a hand over the obvious bulge in your skin, you clench and that’s enough to get him started.

The night is spent surrounded by the sound of his hips meeting your’s, breathy moans, the name of your captain loud on your lips and hands firmly gripping his horns for the ride. He didn’t let up until the sun had almost broken the horizon, both of you spent and newly mated.

[feralghxuls]

could you tell us abt those teeth thing headcanons you mentioned in the tags? i am v interested

YES I COULD

i am SO glad you asked i love this concept very much

it's based on the way that people who work with big cats will often work with them until the animals allow them to touch their teeth, which is mainly so that they are able to do periodic examinations and so they won't flip out if they need dental work or something like that, but it's also a huge show of trust between animal and handler

for simplicity's sake, i'll go through the ghouls with the idea that it's copia or terzo doing this, with some extras for those who have notably different responses to other ghouls doing this rather than their papa

headcanons about ghouls getting their teefies examined under the cut!

aether is a very good boy, his ears go down a little when copia approaches him with the intent of touching his teeth, but he opens right up when asked and will hold still for as long as he needs to. but he will be whining softly in the back of his throat the whole time, and when he's done he looks a little bit like he's going to cry. it's very stressful for him but he Will Do It when asked

cirrus does not like it AT ALL. copia was shocked when he asked her to open up for him the first time and she pinned her ears and growled at him. he tried to be placating, explaining that it's necessary, but she wasn't having it. they had to call in backup (mountain) to hold her still and even then she was still shrieking and squalling like she's being killed. copia had to learn how to be very quick about it, and the second cirrus gets to have her teeth back she shakes it off and acts like nothing happened at all (only cumulus and mountain have any chance at touching her teeth without it being a full-on fight for their lives)

cumulus is very cooperative! she kinda really loves it actually, she already has her mouth wide open and teeth bared for examining before copia even gets close enough to touch, all ^.^ cause she knows she's got good teeth and that the others aren't quite as willing. and also, she'll never admit it but she likes the attention and the praise when copia says her teeth are surprisingly much sharper than they look (he definitely nicked his fingers the first time and she kissed it better)

dew is...temperamental, to no one's surprise. when copia approaches to examine his teeth, the phrase "if looks could kill" still doesn't scratch the surface of the death glare dew gives him. he scowls and growls and resists when copia slips his thumb into the side of his mouth, but he's surprisingly patient once he's in there. dew won't allow it forever, so copia has to be pretty quick about it or he definitely will lose fingers. there's also plenty of times when dew straight up refuses, and they have to call in aether or rain to pry his mouth open and hold him still

with terzo he was a little more willing, partly because terzo spent the whole time telling him how pretty and sharp his teeth are & he took pride in that. it took several months before he allowed terzo to touch his teeth though, and even longer with copia

mountain keeps up a low, terrifying growl the entire time copia approaches, ears pinned and everything, but the second copia starts to reach for his mouth he opens it himself rather than having to be made to open up. he still keeps up that growl but surprisingly, he's willing to hold still for as long as copia wants to poke around in there (after copia figured that part out, there was one time he spent quite a while, absolutely fascinated by how sharp mountain's molars are and his sets of long double canines)

rain doesn't like this at all. he will cooperate, because he respects and trusts copia, and he won't growl or anything but his mouth does start to slowly close down the longer copia takes, a subtle threat to hurry the fuck up or lose a finger. there's been a few close calls where copia wasn't paying enough attention (too focused on all the little razor sharp needle teeth between rain's canines and how it kinda looks like he's got two rows...) and had to jerk his hand back at the last second. as soon as copia's done, rain skitters off to go recover from the whole ordeal. swiss has special teeth touching privileges though, and rain accepts this from him with great affection.

swiss is surprisingly squirmy about it. he wants to be good, he really does, but there's just something about the feeling of fingers on his teeth that he really can't stand. especially when copia rubs across his molars, he's accidentally bitten down on him before (not enough to draw blood, and he apologized abundantly after, but. oops. copia is more gentle in the future). he definitely clings to copia's arm while his hand is in his mouth, and his tail is a damn weapon to anyone within range. copia wishes he could spend more time looking at swiss's teeth though, because he, like mountain, also has double canines, the outside ones not quite as long as mountain's but just as sharp. when he is done, he steps back and licks over his teeth & lips like a dog who's just been given a spoonful of peanut butter (which copia privately thinks its fricken adorable)

stratus likes to snap her teeth as copia approaches, but she's also grinning like a little imp. she thinks it's funny how he flinches a little and pretends like he doesn't, but when it comes down to it she opens wide and even pulls her tongue out of the way for him. but it's a bit of a trap; she won't fully chomp down on him, but she does gnaw on his hand while he's trying to feel around in her mouth. mostly she doesn't draw blood, but she does have lots of sharp little teeth like a kitten, so it happens on accident. don't worry though, she always licks it better (no matter how many times copia gently tries to explain to her that the healing properties of ghoul saliva doesn't really work on humans)

BONUS

alpha will absolutely refuse to let terzo anywhere near his mouth, except to bite him. (that's his story, anyway. they'll take it to their graves but he does let terzo check his teeth as long as there's absolutely no chance anyone else is anywhere nearby). he puts up a good fight with secondo but eventually relents, because secondo doesn't hesitate to get mean as fuck about it. and he doesn't get a choice with primo. with primo, he hardly gets the chance to think about it, the old man is extremely spry and very good at lulling alpha into the false complacency with conversation, and then he springs it on alpha and the whole thing is over before he even processes what happened.

(and just for shits and giggles, and because i have been talking about them lately: he growls and glares the whole time when swiss pries his mouth open, putting up a good front. but he always lets swiss poke around in his mouth for as long as he wants and he always opens up on the first ask. (this wasn't true the first time, or several times after that; he put up a good fight but swiss eventually won, because he always does))

omega is a good boy for terzo and only terzo. even then he still resists a little, tipping his head up out of reach until terzo reaches up to slip his thumb into the corner of his mouth, and once he gets his mouth open, he's very good and patient, doesn't even whine like aether. with secondo, he definitely resists a bit more, tossing his head around even as he verbally agrees to open up, he won't at first. again though, good boy once his mouth is open. primo asks him once, and barely gives him the chance to answer before he does the same thing he does to alpha, quick as a damn snake and it's over before he knows it. though sometimes primo will spend a while exploring inside his mouth, he mostly is just very deft and professional about it.

ifrit is the goodest boy. he loves having his teeth examined and likes to follow terzo's fingers around in his mouth with his tongue, fascinated to feel what terzo is feeling. he always asks if he passed after, and terzo smiles at him and says his teeth are in excellent form as always. sometimes he tracks down his bestie swisstopher and just goes :V at him until swiss pokes around in his mouth and ifrit purrs at him the whole time. he loves it.

mist is okay with it, you have to catch her in the right mood (which terzo has terrible luck with). he learned quickly that if she's not having it, it's best to give up and try again later because he's liable to lose half his fingers and his bassist if he pushes it. if she is in a cooperative mood though, she's still not exactly nice about it. she gives him a nasty side-eye the whole time and barely opens her mouth wide enough for him to get a couple fingers in there. however, she almost always will let omega into her mouth, so terzo mostly just lets him handle that. they have a weird relationship, built on high levels of mutual respect while also keeping each other in check & being unafraid to call each other on their shit.

chAir is an absolute monster if anyone but ifrit tries to open his mouth, and even then he Grumbles and growls about how ridiculous and demeaning this is. ifrit just shrugs and keeps at it, says it's important and has to be done, a ghoul's teeth are vital organs. to which chAir scoffs and mutters something about doubting whether or not ifrit would even know if anything is amiss if he thinks teeth are organs. (ifrit and chAir also have a strange relationship, in which ifrit adores chAir and chAir is a grumpy old man who begrudgingly accepts ifrit's affections)

terzo tries to insist that his human dentist knows what they're doing, but omega insists he hush and let him look. he is fascinated by terzo's blunt molars and his tiny, cute little canines, and spends quite some time running his fingertips over the smooth edges of his teeth until terzo's jaw aches.

copia thinks it's very sweet of his ghouls to try to check his teeth, but he also has a dentist and can they please do this one at a time and not four of them at once. mountain wants to know how his eensy flat molars chew anything at all, stratus says that he ought to sharpen his teeth more often and is puzzled when copia explains that it doesn't work like that. swiss spends a while prodding at the sharpest edges he can find and laments that he can't get any of them to prick his fingertips, and how it must be difficult for copia to live like this, unable to bite his partners effectively. dew thinks copia is doing this for attention (he also wants to poke around in copia's mouth, but he'll never admit it).

[cielles-random-vault]

vamp ghost brainrot do you see my vision

DO YOU SEE MY VISION?!?!?!?!?!

ok this is v random but apparently im on a creative spree so lets enjoy it while it lastssss

context: the idea came from when i noticed ghost had lil fangs on his mask and and and

reader is tf141's medic/nurse idk how you call it but you get it also shoutout to @unabashedcroissanttreefan (PHEROMONE IS BACKK) and @cluelylikesporn mwah

also reader is not white AND a vampire. boom. not black either but i like the concept of poc/mixed vampires (and poc vampires would look so cool) (i am mixed and id look so cool as an autistic soon-to-be-adult teen vampire and you cant tell me otherwise.)

wc: 1049

also trigger warning dislocation and blood (duh there's vampirism in this fic what did you expect /lh)

also maybe ooc ghost idrk

pt 2 in the making!

"okay, lets see... who do we have next.." you said as your checked your medical files. "lieutenant riley?" (you raise an eyebrow) "strange. he never came before" you thought out loud, but you shrugged it off. "you can come in!"

"hello, y/n" ghost greeted you politely as he sat in front of you. "i hope my team hasn't been of too much trouble"

"don't worry about them!" you smile softly, "lets talk about you, for once! what brings you there? you usually never come to check ups, which i have to say isnt very professional!!" you scold him lightly, "but im glad you seem safe and well!"

ghost chuckled softly before replying: " i came here because i have been suffering from awful migraines, and i have no idea where they can possibly come from, and so i wanted to ask you if you could check? and maybe give me a stronger dose of painkillers so that i won't need to bother you every week? also, i noticed i have been having more trouble falling asleep, it's as if i found myself more... active in the nighttime, i would say?"

"mhm.. this sure is strange, but dont worry!" you reply with an assured smile. "do you have some spare time so i can do your checkup now, or do you wish to book another appointment?"

"i would like to do it now, if you don't mind"

"okay, no problem!" you smile as you put on a surgery mask, "lay down on this chair and lift up your mask just above your mouth, please! ill start off with examinating your teeth."

ghost did as you asked him to, and you started your inspection; what you saw surely was weird.

"this is strange..." you muttered to yourself, "can you please bite into this?" you asked him as you handed him a plaster mold. "it looks like your fangs... have overgrown."

"what??" ghost asked, confused. "with all due respect, you must be kidding me."

"im not" you reply, showing him the mold he bit in. "see? its like, the bite mark is... sharper than a usual one would be"

"and... do you happen to have a reason to that?" ghost starts to panic, "or even a remedy?"

"i think... i might have an idea, but don't freak out, okay?" (he nods unsurely) "you might want to sit down for this one. okay so... there have been rumors - and i insist on the word 'rumor' - of a disease that turns people into vampires, and-"

"are you telling me i'm one of those freaks?!?" ghost hurried, panicked.

"that's... insensitive to us.." you mutter to yourself, "but nevermind. no, there is no cure, you just learn to live with it.

"thats..." he thought out loud, "wait did you say us? are you a vampire too?"

"duh, just because im not white doesn't mean i cant be a vampire thats- very cliché." you reply, slightly offended. "but yes, i am."

"but- how do you even sleep at night? how do you even feed yourself ? and-" ghost's mind raced with questions.

"let me guess, you're assuming all vampires drink blood to survive, aren't you?" (he nods, slightly ashamed, but you smiled, amused at his panic) "don't worry, we aren't all like that. i'd be delighted to teach you there are a whole lot of different types of vampires! for example, i am an empathic one! which means i tend to be more well... empathic."

"and how does one know what type of vampire one is?" ghost asked, seeming childhishly interested to the point it almost looked endearing.

"thats exactly what im coming to!" you reply with a soft smile, before coming back a few moments later with a little pouch of blood. "what does this make you feel?"

"this looks delicious" he replies as his eyes lit up, "can i have a taste?"

"well then," you chuckled, "it's all settled! you're a blood drinker vampire!"

"oh." the worries then came back in his voice, "does that mean i have to..." (he gulps) "kill people to drink their blood?"

"well, technically speaking, if we were in a typical eldritch story, you would have to. but, hopefully for the writer we're not, and its a good thing im a medic, so i have plenty of those little pouches!"

ghost sighed in relief, but then panic peaked again.

"do you think we should tell others? like, price and soap?" ghost asked worried.

"no. not for now, at least." you thought for a moment, and added: "but, one thing is sure, if we dont want anybody to find out you have to do whatever it takes to not get deployed,or else... "

"we're fucked, balls deep." ghost completed your sentence. "but how? price won't allow me to stay at the base unless i get injured."

"that's exactly my point!" you say as your eyes glimmer mischievously, "but im not sure you will like the idea.."

"whatever it takes for people not to notice.." he sighs.

"good!" you reply with a smile, "please lay down on this chair,just so youre warned its gonna be a little... painful."

"what the fuck- you sprained my fucking ankle???" ghost hurried, grumbling in pain.

"what?? you wanted a reason to not get deployed, didnt you? you should thank me" you chuckled as you noticed him wincing in pain. "anyway, its time for price's meeting, take those to help you walk, and you let me do the talking to price, okay?"

ghost nodded as you both headed to the briefing room, one of his arm around your shoulder to help him walk, where price and the rest of the task force were already waiting for you.

"sorry we're late, captain!" you hurried as you and ghost entered the room.

"its fine" price replied, raising an eyebrow, "what happened to you, Lieutenant?"

"we were practicing close fighting and he accidentally sprained his ankle, sir" you reply with an assured smile.

"is that so?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, "then why didnt i see both your names in the record?"

"because we forgot, and there was nobody on the wait list, sir" you reply. "but i promise it wont happen again."

"good" price sighed, "then i suppose i have no choice but to make gaz replace you, ghost."

is all for part one i feel like its already too long help

hope you enjoyed, if you dont reblog ill snatch your toenails

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

and can i also request “Not so fast, bun.”  for kit/syb(/jake) (but only if you want to kfa;lfd no pressure)

This literally took me forever to fill, but I finally completed it and I think it's my first legit threesome fic??? and I'm so glad it got to be for the polycule

Anyhoo..

3k words later and here ya go my friend!

18+ Smut below the cut (this gets raunchy)

Warning: knife play, cunnilingus, p in v sex, snowballing, creampie, nipple play, pet names, fingering

"Rise and shine, bunny." Kit's low, smoky voice cut through the silence of the early morning as she smirked down at the dark haired woman curled up in a ball on the dirt floor of the cage. It was the wake up call every "recruit" prayed they wouldn't receive. As pretty as the redhead was, her eyes gave nothing but crazy – a sadistic gleam trapped in a cold blue stare, as deadly a threat as an iceberg.

The ground was frozen and the wind bit with the snow that was starting to fall in the Whitetails. Sybille pulled her coat a little tighter around her trying to keep the chill from getting to her core as she rolled over to face her captor and Kit’s eyes seemed to soften – if that were even possible – at the sight of her favorite toy’s reddened nose and cheeks, lips turning blue around the edges. 

"You look tired. Did we keep you up past your bedtime?" Kit mocked as she tilted her head to the side.

Sybille refused to respond, merely looking up at the redhead through her furrowed brow, still trying so hard to act like she didn’t really want to be there. 

Kit stood at the cage door, her boot tapping, she was getting tired of the little game. It would be so much easier if Syb just gave up and gave herself over to what the soldiers were offering her. "I brought you breakfast, if you're interested."

Syb’s nose scrunched at the thought. "Not in the mood for meat."

"No, I suppose you got your fill biting off that poor fuck's finger, didn't you?" She rasped, her eyes roaming over Sybille’s body appreciatively.

Unlocking the cage, making sure to close the door tight behind her, Kit showed no fear with the prisoner –  even if Syb had the propensity to get violent after going through the trials. 

"Surprised you're so comfortable bein’ in here considerin’."

Kicking Syb’s boot, spreading her legs open, Kit kneeled down between her legs. Her hand stroked through the longer portion of dark tresses that fell on the other woman’s forehead. "You might have some teeth now, but mine are still sharper." She gave a cold smirk. "Jacob and I thought you might like to come out of the cold now that you've had your sulk."

"No thanks."

"Oh, don’t be so hasty, bun." Her thumb tugged at Syb's lower lip, rubbing her body heat against it, warming up the tender, wind bitten flesh. "We weren't even planning on punishing you this time. You've already proven how well you react to the praise."

Ice cold eyes made brighter by the white of fallen snow met with the evergreen of Syb’s own. Leaning in, she pressed her mouth to her former ally and kissed her tenderly. Her warm tongue pushed in past cold lips, hands cupping against Syb’s cheek and neck firmly, holding her in place. She could feel the flush settle in the Deputy's skin and the increase in her heartbeat against the palm of her hand. It didn't matter what the she said now, Kit already had her answer.

"Come on, Syb. At ease, soldier." Kit stood up and pulled the dark haired woman to her feet. Wrapping her arm around Sybille's, she led her through the maze of cages, back up to Jacob's office. 

Paint-peeled white doors swung open and Kit strutted in, as proud with herself as a cat with its kill. She may as well have been carrying Syb in her jaws so she could spit her out on the Herald’s desk for him to see her catch.

Jacob slid the pencil he was holding back under the metal clasp of his clipboard – the time for going over reports had ended – stretching back in his seat he met the Deputy with a smug grin. "There's our jackrabbit. Hope ya weren't feelin’ too cold last night." 

Syb tightened her jaw, still trying to fight the situation she’d been put in the middle of once again. "No worse than most other nights."

"Glad to hear it, Deputy."

Kit shook off her knee length leather coat, tossing it over the back of one of the chairs, and looked over her shoulder at the Deputy. “I don't know what you’re just standing around for. Go on. Strip,” she said with a nod of her head.

Syb cleared her throat and went silent staring up at the ceiling above her. 

“Oh, what? You’re suddenly shy?” Kit turned around, her hand on her hip as she slid the knife from her holster. “Or maybe you were hoping we'd have the pleasure of doing it.”

Swallowing heavily, Syb lifted her chin, the flush already starting to grow up her chest and neck.

“Looks like you’re getting some color back. Guess Kitty here, said the right thing.” Jacob's pale eyes gazed lasciviously at the Deputy. “Go on, angel, I think that’s what our jackrabbit wants. Well, isn’t it, soldier?” He asked with the raised brow.

He commanded and Sybille was forced to obey. “Yes. Yes, sir, it is.”

“She really is starting to get the handle of this.” Kit gave a sideways glance to the Herald, a cruel grin on her face.

Unzipping Syb’s coat, Kit tossed it to the floor and brought her knife to the waffle knit of the worn Henley underneath, slicing it open from the buttons down to the belly. All the while keeping her eyes firmly focused on the Deputy. “Such a good little rabbit for us,” she cooed as she traced her knife over the bare skin of Syb’s chest, leaving light pink scratch marks against it – not enough to break the flesh, but enough for the nerves to be set alight with an itch – drawing a hiss from the dark haired woman as metal met the skin. 

But that didn't stop Kit, pain was part of the pleasure. 

“Not a fan of knives, Dep?” She tutted her tongue. “That’s too bad. I am.”

She ran her fingers down the straps of Syb’s bra and with a quick slash of her knife, cut them, letting Syb’s breasts fall free of the material and her nipples steadily grow harder in the cold, biting air. The point of Kit's blade traveled down between small, perky breasts until it reached her stomach, stopping as the tip hit the other woman's belly button and she slipped her hunting knife back into the holster on her thigh. 

A sigh heaved out of Sybille’s mouth. “It doesn’t fuckin’ matter what I like, does it?”

Kit’s brow furrowed, “Now bunny, that’s not very nice. We’ve always been good to you, giving you what you want.” Cupping Sybille's face in her hand, she kissed her as her other hand explored down the dark haired woman’s body. Massaging the Deputy’s breast in her hand, Kit rolled her nipple between her fingers, pinching it tightly making Sybille moan into her mouth. 

“That’s it bunny, let me take care of you,” Kit whispered against her lips as her hand trailed down Syb’s waist, slipping down the front of her jeans, and past the waistband of her panties.

For someone so fond of violence and brutality, she knew just how to apply the right pressure and speed to a woman’s body to make them beg. There was a certain grace to the way her fingers could move, a dexterity to how she pulled out every little moan and gasp and stifled whine she could get until Sybille was left clenching down around nothing – empty – as she was brought to her climax. 

Even as the Deputy came undone from her fingers, she whispered praise into the dark haired woman's ear. "You have no idea how much I love the sounds you make. So fucking pretty," Kit purred. 

She started to pant, her anticipation getting the better of her as she pressed kisses to the edge of Syb's jaw and finally inserted her fingers into her. Curling them up against the walls, stroking that perfect spot over and over, letting her fingers get coated in her bunny's arousal. Pumping them in and out, the slick sounds of Syb getting wetter around her becoming louder, filling the office. Finally slipping her fingers away –  leaving the Deputy desperate for more – Kit brought them to her mouth and sucked them clean. Her tongue sliding down to the base of them, licking at the skin that webbed between them, collecting every last glistening morsel that coated her digits. 

"God, the way you taste…” Kit looked down at her fingers now wet with her saliva and a smile pulled at her lips. “I could eat you out for hours."

Pale eyes flicked up to look at Syb, with a hunger the Deputy had only ever seen in one other pair of eyes. That same pale, predatory gaze that was more animal than human. 

Sybille swallowed hard, her lower lip trembling as she focused on the redhead’s mouth. "P-please."

Kit's eyebrows rose, feigning surprise. "Oh, you'd like that?" she asked in a husk as she dragged her tongue against the burn scars on Syb’s neck. 

"I know I'd like to see that." Jacob got up from his seat after admiring the show before him and heavy footsteps crossed the room, his arms wrapping around Kit's waist, tugging her ass against his stiffening cock. Pressing the meat of her into him, she began to grind her hips as his teeth nipped at her throat. "Fucking into ya while you use that pretty little mouth of yours."

"Is that an order?" Kit teased.

He grabbed her braid and coiled it around his hand, pulling back on her head to rest it against his shoulder. "I can make it one."

She purred with the rough touch used against her, her tongue dragging against her teeth as her eyes fluttered shut. When he finally released her from his grasp, Kit was quick to grab Syb’s hand and pull her towards the cot in the corner of the room, and push her down onto the mattress. 

Sybille’s hands fell to the button and the zipper of her jeans, fumbling to undo them under the pale stare of the two redheads in her midst, but Kit was quick to slap her hands away.  

“Not so fast, bun.” Kit licked her lips and pulled down on the zipper teasingly slow, sliding Syb’s jeans down her thighs and legs, her eyes drawn to the darkening spot between the Deputy’s thighs. Gripping Sybille’s thighs in her hands, she spread them wider, kneeling between them, pressing her fingers to the spot moist with her anticipation, adding the friction of cotton against her needy cunt. 

"So wet for me already," Kit hummed approvingly.

Pale blue eyes stared up at Syb, as she pressed kisses to her inner thighs, drawing closer to the apex of them, before running her tongue against where the artery pumped, teeth nipping at the sensitive flesh – playing with her food. 

A shaky breath slipped past Syb’s lips, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she laid there watching Kit work, her fingers squeezing at the bedding. “Please, Kit,” she begged.

A half grin tugged at the corner of the redhead’s mouth, white teeth shining. Icy eyes rolled sideways to face her prey. “Bunny, are you getting impatient with me?”

“No.”

Jacob chuckled from behind them, arms crossed over his chest. “Told ya we should have promised her the stick and not the carrot.”

Kit looked back over her shoulder at the mountain man, batting her eyelashes. “Have neither of you ever heard of foreplay?” She turned back to face Syb, and wrapped her fingers around the band of her panties, tugging them down her legs. “Apparently you both like to just get right to the action, huh?”

Her fingers dug into Syb’s thighs, her nails dragging down them, leaving long, red scratches behind. Spreading the folds apart with two fingers, she licked long stripes up the length of Syb's slit, her tongue lapping at her like a cat with a bowl of cream, until coiling it around the hood of her clit. Hearing the pleasured moans and having the other woman thrusting up towards her face as she writhed against the mattress let Kit know she was on the right track. Her strawberry lips wrapped around Syb’s clit and she could already feel it start to pulse, swapping between sucking and licking while slipping two fingers up inside her, the wet sounds steadily growing louder with each thrust in and out, her fingers getting drenched down to the knuckles.

With Kit’s ass pointed up in the air, Jacob slipped around behind her, freeing her of her own jeans and underwear. With a rustle of cloth and the jingle of metal, his jeans were on the floor and without wasting any time, his hand snaked around Kit’s hips and between her legs, rubbing circles against her clit with the pad of his thumb as he cupped her mound in his large, rough hand. Pressing the head of his cock up against her entrance, he pushed up into her with a single thrust of his hips, stretching her open and making her moan against Syb's cunt, vibrating into her, causing a desperate keening whine in response like a chain reaction. 

Swapping the positions of her hand and mouth, Kit's thumb rubbed back and forth over the tender and aching clit, while her tongue entered Syb's cunt and fucked her with the same desperate need that Jacob had into her own. It didn’t take long before Sybille's walls started to flutter, so close to clamping down the same way her thighs did as they squeezed around Kit's head, keeping her in place. 

Grabbing a handful of auburn waves at the crown, Sybille’s nails dug into the other woman's scalp and another moan reverberated through her – Kit was always all too happy to have pain used against her, it only heightened the experience. 

A darkened, predatory stare watched as Syb started to grind up against Kit's face. Using the other woman to get herself off, chasing her end. "Feels good, doesn't it, rabbit?" Jacob growled, stuffing himself into Kit, bottoming out inside of her. 

Sybille could only respond with moans of delight and pleasure as the icy stare of the eyes between her thighs looked up at her, Kit’s lips curling at the reaction she was getting from the dark haired woman as she swallowed down the salty sweet taste of her.

Jacob's hand wrapped up in Kit's braid, pulling her back towards him like it was a leash. Her mouth glistened with Syb's slick arousal and his mouth crashed against hers, kissing her deeply, tasting both her and Sybille at the same time. With Kit now sitting in his lap, he continued to thrust up into her, hips snapping against her, wet flesh slapping as his cock was now bathed in her own arousal. Their moans turned to animalistic growls every time his length disappeared inside of her. His fingers gripping at her hip, desperate and demanding, hard enough to bruise – nothing new considering the layers of bruises that stained her skin ranging from yellowed and fading to the freshest of deep purples.

Syb sat up, resting on her forearms, her cunt left sensitive after the redhead had brought her to climax several times, and she watched the proud and powerful Herald's lieutenant coming undone – Muscular thighs shaking, eyes squeezed tightly shut, sweat staining her brow, clawing at her own breasts over her shirt – it was a sight to behold.

Jacob's hand traveled up the front of Kit's shirt, lifting the material, exposing the scars that spread across her abdomen, blooming on her skin. Cupping her breast in his hand, the other fingering her clit as she continued to bounce on his cock.

"That's it, kitten. That's my good girl," his voice a deep growl.

Whining, soft gasps tumbled from Kit with his words of praise quickly turning into throaty moans as Sybille crawled forward and laid between her thighs, the Deputy’s tongue now licking up the redhead’s folds – returning the favor. Coiling her arm around Jacob's neck, the other hand grasping at the back of Syb's head, Kit continued the brutal pace of her riding.

Jacob sped up the pummeling thrusts into her with each snap of his hips, her cunt fluttering and clenching around him until he finally came inside of her, coating her velvet walls. Her nails dragged against Syb’s scalp, her eyes rolling back into her head as his pace slowed, rolling his hips back and forth until finally pulling out, his cum dripping out of her. 

But Syb kept going, eating her out, licking up the drops of Jacob’s seed while she was at it. It felt like her heart would burst out of her chest, her lungs expanding and contracting in a rib cage that could no longer hold them. Her whole body was on fire, sparks ripping through her nerves, and a scream ripped from her like she was being tortured. 

Kit wrapped her hand around the front of Syb's throat, stroking the skin softly before pulling the other woman up to kiss her. Jacob's cum still collected in Syb's mouth, not yet having been swallowed, she happily slipped her tongue into the other woman's mouth and accepted the taste of her lover's seed as Syb’s hands fondled and caressed her body.

Jacob stood back with a smirk, pulling on his jeans and doing up the belt. “See, I knew there was a reason I needed ya both.”

Pressing her forehead to Syb’s, she used her thumb to wipe the corner of the Deputy’s lips, before bringing it to her mouth to suck it clean, a smile creeping across her lips making her eyes sparkle in the afterglow.

“Kitty here can be quite the handful.” Jacob said, resting against the edge of his desk, the flush in his skin starting to fade. Like a switch had been flipped, he was back to being all business as he spoke to the Deputy. “Take the carrot, Jackrabbit. No more cages, no more hunger, we’ll look after ya.” He turned his attention to his second-in-command. “Won’t we, kitten?”

She nodded, her eyes softening the way they had earlier as she looked at Sybille. “Come on, Syb. Be our little bunny. It’s a better life than what we had before.” Her fingers stroked against Syb’s cheek gently. “I promise.”

[diolanza]

───☠︎︎🦇🕸 ⚰︎───

Eros sat cross-legged on a bench, away from the overwhelming crowds of the market, vampire romance novel in hand. While his siblings were off doing god knows what, he opted to keep himself away from their busyness, far too intimidated by the crowd to even think of stepping onto the main street. A small amount of movement in front of him was just enough to draw his eyes away from his book.

Was that person from the Heart Pirates?

Against his better judgement, he tucked his novel underneath his arm and walked to catch up with the other. He offered them a nervous smile.

❝ Hey do ya'- ❞ he tragically stumbled over his words, ❝ I mean, aren't ya'...Shouldn't ya'.....Trafalgar Law, huh? ❞

Penguin wandered about, bag of random supplies and food in one hand, and steaming baked sweet potato in the other, half wrapped in tinfoil, loaded in the way a burrito would be. Lucky was he to find a place that sold them to go, and even bought an extra for later that currently rested safely in his bag.

Having a day or so to restock and fart around, the quartermaster figured a little stroll would be nice before they're back in the bowels of the Tang.

[diolanza]

❛  can’t you watch where you are going ?!  ❜ / sanji @ eros

𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒.

Everything was awful.

Sounds of shopkeepers calling out to potential customers, chatter from throngs of people gathered on the street, an overwhelming caconophy. Decorative lights feeling more akin to the sun, rather than something to brighten up the nighttime street. Each accidental brush like a strike of lightning through the very core. The amalgamation of scents of various street foods, which was appetizing upon entering the area, had grown to be nauseating.

Eros' heart pounded in his ears as he blearily made his way through the crowd, searching for the flash of pink and red that was normally his eldest sibling. They'd gone off somewhere, likely with someone, and whether or not it was a crewmember he doubted he'd be seeing them for the remainder of the night. Not a single familiar face in the crowd and not a single person to cling to so the fear wouldn't be so overwhelming. Swallowing thickly, Eros looked for an escape route from where he was currently trapped in a group of people who shrieked when the live music started up again. He released a shaky breath when he caught sight of an alleyway just a few feet away.

He weaved his way through the crowd, apologizing and excusing himself in a feeble attempt to curb the contempt people would surely have for him when he moved past them. Finally, he was able to make it though relatively unscathed, though he was sure someone had spilled some sort of substance on him. He gave himself little time to breathe before dashing around the corner and-

WHAP!

❝ Can’t you watch where you are going ?!  ❞

Of course he ran into someone.

❝ Aah! I'm so sorry I wasn't lookin' where I was goin' a-and I.., ❞ He bent downwards, extending a hand to help the stranger up.

SMACK!

Someone had thrown out some metal shelves at just the right angle where Eros' nose collided with them. When he reeled backwards at the sharp pain in his nose, his head hit the nearby light hard enough for its glass encasement to shatter, ❝ Son of a bitch! ❞

OH, NOW HE WAS BLEEDING!

[diolanza]

───☠︎︎🦇🕸 ⚰︎───

Eros watches the merman, peeking out from behind a rock, too afraid to approach on his own. Until something brushes across his leg and he yelps, barreling away from whatever horrible beast was trying to eat him. He swims within inches of the other, nearly getting in the way of his play.

❝ Ah! I'm so, so sorry! I didn't mean to get in the way! ❞

۪ ⊹ ֗ ꫂ 𓇼 - ̗̀ “ OH! There will come a poet who's weapon is his word! he will slay you with his tongue! OH LAY OH LIY OH LORD! ~ ” playing the out the story of the soilder, the poet, and the king with his fellow fish the sword fish with his own piece of stick!

Kaimen swims around the ocean waters with a bright laughter! “ UN GAUD, you foul fish fiend! ” ততততত

[bluefuckboy]

@slackslumber @king-queenie

This baby deserves its own post.

I’d like to say Incubus Kiri’s look is based heavily off his hybrid dragon form in the fantasy au

And with that I give you over 4K words of smut

Bakugo tossed another dirtied tissue into the wastebasket next to his desk. It joined the pile of similarly stained tissues and Bakugo felt a twinge of shame as he leaned back in his chair and sighed. The video on his computer was still playing and the sound of porn stars fucking now echoed a bit in his dorm room.

Bakugo hit pause and let his head fall onto the keyboard. Nineteen years and he was still in a steady relationship with his right hand. It was sad, but what was even worse was the fact that every time he tried to muster up the courage to finally go out and find someone to fuck, he would end up chickening out before the date even started.

It also didn’t help that he was into guys. It just made things harder since every guy he’d tried to hook up with thought Bakugo was ready to spread his ass for them no sweat. Like hell he was. He was the one who would be doing the fucking.

He sighed and picked up his phone to scroll through the group of apps he’d downloaded for the sole purpose of finding someone to finally lose his virginity with. All of them were a no go tonight and all the messages were just horny guys telling him how good he’d look pinned under them.

He was about to call it a night when his phone dinged with a message from an unknown sender. It dinged again, and again, and again, until Bakugo shut the sound off to silence the chorus of bells. It was the same message, sent to all the dating apps he had.

Of course his first thought was to delete it since it obviously must be some sort of spam, but he was curious too. He glanced at the message header.

Mistress Midnight’s Midnight Delights

The font was large and gothic and Bakugo’s curiosity got the better of him as he opened the message. It was a link to another app, which Bakugo downloaded for the heck of it since the description “Pleasure with the press of a button” had piqued his interest.

The app was set up like any other dating app would be, except there was no place to fill out a profile. Just categories which included Vanilla, S/M, BDSM, and one called V Card Removal. Bakugo clicked on it and was taken to a page that was exactly what he was looking for. It was a section dedicated entirely to first timers.

He was impressed with the frankness of the app as he scrolled through descriptions ranging from “soft and sweet” to “XXX.” He stopped at one that read “D/S.” He clicked on it and was greeted with several photos of gorgeous guy sprawled out in various positions.

There was a tall, lean guy leaning against a wall with a distant look on his face. His hair was two toned, half white and half red with what looked like a birthmark around one eye. He was very handsome, but Bakugo got the vibe he was probably under the Dom category and he was definitely looking for a Sub.

He scrolled through more photos. There was a guy with crazy yellow hair that looked like he’d been hit by a lightning bolt. He was even wearing what appeared to be a Pikachu costume, complete with ears and a tail that was clearly an anal plug. It made Bakguo’s cheeks hot, but it still wasn’t quite his type.

Another guy who looked the Sub part caught his eye. He was doey eyed with green hair and a spray of freckles over his nose and cheeks. He was laying on a bed, everything visible except for the goods, which were covered by his hands in Marilyn Monroe-like pose. There was even some sparkly linen covering one of this thighs.

Bakugo scrunched his nose up. Definitely not his type. That guy would probably cry during sex and then tell you he loved you as you were trying to sneak out the door the next morning. Bakugo wanted someone who would gladly suck his cock or ask him to fuck them and make him feel like this wasn’t a desperate final attempt to no longer be a virgin.

He scrolled past green haired boy and stopped as the next photo made him do a double take. It was a red haired guy, well built with a coy, toothless smile that made Bakugo’s stomach drop slightly. He was super cute and dressed in what appeared to be a doggy kink get up.

A bright red collar circled his neck and he was holding a bone in one hand while the other rested on his knees, which were pulled up to his chest, showing off just enough of his firm thighs to make Bakugo want to grip them tightly as he made the guy whimper like a naughty puppy.

Bakugo clicked on the picture. A pop up appeared.

Would you like to summon, Red?

Red must be what the guy went by, which was fitting. Bakugo found the wording a bit strange, but the slight sparkle in this guy’s eyes made Bakguo’s throat tighten up. He slammed his thumb onto the “Summon” option.

To his surprise the phone became searing hot in his palm. He cursed and dropped it onto the floor. It started vibrating violently and Bakugo was sure he must have just downloaded a virus. But then it stopped and the air seemed to thicken.

It felt like it was weighing down on Bakugo making it hard to breathe. The phone was buzzing again, but rhythmically this time. The screen was glowing red and it got brighter and brighter until Bakugo had to cover his eyes when it became almost blinding. There was a sudden rush of air from nowhere and the atmosphere changed from suffocating to calm. There was even a scent that reminded Bakguo of a high end cologne.

He opened his eyes and blinked rapidly, trying to clear the afterimage of the bright light from the phone. The room had gone dark again as Bakugo had the lights dimmed for his me time. As his eyes adjusted his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. There was someone standing in the middle of his room.

He nearly fell over in his attempt to scramble away from the large, imposing figure. He groped for something, anything that he could possibly use to defend himself. He ended up ripping the keyboard from its spot next to the monitor, holding it in front of him like it was some sort of shield as he spoke in a shaky voice.

“Who the hell are you? How the fuck did you get in my room?”

The figure didn’t reply. There was what sounded like a snap and the room was suddenly bathed in soft lighting from sources that seemed to appear out of thin air. There were candles that had popped into existence, flickering slightly.

Now that there was adequate light, Bakugo could see that the hulking figure was none other than the guy, Red, that he had hit “summon” on. But he was far different from his photo.

For starters he was jacked as shit, way more muscular than the photo had let on. He was wearing what appeared to be tight leather pants that revealed he was packing some major heat. He had leather boots that stretched nearly up to his knees and he was completely shirtless.

Bakugo noticed there was a tattoo on the guys left shoulder that looked like the Roman Numeral for 5. In looking at the tattoo, Bakugo’s eyes couldn’t help but wander over the bulging bicep it was above, which flexed as the guy crossed his arms.

“You called?”

His voice was dangerously low and gravelly. Bakugo’s eyes darted up to his face. He was handsome for sure, but his features were sharper than Bakguo had expected and there was a scar over one his eyes, which were a deep, dark color that Bakugo couldn’t quite make out in the low lighting.

They seemed to glint a bit as the guy cocked his head and growled, “Come on kid I haven’t got all day. What’ll be?”

Bakugo’s mouth gaped open and he managed to stammer out, “You’re that guy from the app? Red, right?”

Red nodded, but his expression was bored. “Yeah that’s me. But you can call me whatever you want to tonight, sweetheart.”

Bakugo eyes widened and he was about to give an angry retort, but Red was suddenly in front of him. It was too fast for a normal human. He was simply just there, mere inches away from Bakugo, who found himself pinned against the desk. He panicked and shoved the wireless keyboard into Red’s broad chest in an attempt to push him away, but it was entirely useless.

Red’s chuckle sent a chill down Bakugo’s spine and he shimmied the keyboard out of Bakugo’s shaking hands, tossing it to the side.

“Hey!” Bakugo yelled, “That shit’s expensive you ass!”

He could feel the adrenaline pumping in his veins now and it gave him a momentary bout of courage to say, “I clicked on a cute submissive guy, not you, you crazy shithead.”

Red looked confused for a second, but then his face broke into a grin. His casual laugh caught Bakugo off guard and Red said, “Shit. That’s my bad. I forgot to update that photo.”

He was suddenly too close for comfort and Bakugo could feel his hot breath against his face as Red crooned, “I used to play the sweet puppy act, but now I’m more of an alpha.”

He grinned again, this time showing teeth which were unnaturally sharp. Bakugo shivered as Red whispered, “I can be the Big Bad Wolf if you want, babe.”

Bakugo felt the edge of the desk dig into the small of his back as he tried to lean back as Red came closer. He loomed over him and Bakugo felt small and almost vulnerable. This wasn’t what he wanted, and the taunting smirk on Red’s face was making him even more pissed off.

He somehow managed to wriggle his arms up and pound his fists into Red’s chest, which was sold as a rock. It was enough to provide a small sliver of space for Bakugo to shimmy out of Red’s grasp and stand in front of him.

“Go back to wherever the fuck you came from and get the fuck out of my room.”

Red cocked an eyebrow. “Aw you’re kicking me out? But I’m just getting started. We pride ourselves on service at Mistress Midnight’s. So I’m not leaving until you’re satisfied.”

Red was suddenly right next to him again. Bakugo didn’t have time to try and maneuver out of the way as the man’s wide palms were at his hips, holding him in place. That heavy, almost suffocating feeling was in the atmosphere again.

“Let me go!” Bakugo growled, struggling in vain, his fists pounding against Red’s chest.

One of Bakugo’s wrists was grabbed by Red and yanked back so that they were pressed flush against each other. Red’s other hand was now on Bakugo’s ass and Bakugo could feel the heat between their bodies.

The hand on Bakugo’s ass slipped into his boxers. Red’s palm was like fire against Bakguo’s skin and he hissed slightly as he tried to pull out of Red’s vice like grip. The air grew even thicker and Bakugo’s lungs felt like they were about to cave in, but then everything seemed to stop as Red pressed their lips together.

Bakugo wasn’t just a a virgin sexually. He had also never kissed anyone before. The sensation was strange, a tingly feeling that had him focusing on the soft give of Red’s lips instead of the hand kneading his asscheck slightly.

Bakugo inhaled sharply as something wet came to tease at the seam of his lips. Red’s tongue slipped past Bakugo’s lips, snaking it’s way past his teeth and forcing Bakugo’s mouth open. Bakugo panted into Red’s mouth as Red’s tongue caressed every inch of Bakugo’s mouth, until Bakugo’s knees began to shake.

When Red finally pulled back Bakugo was gasping for air. He knew kissing was supposed to be good, but this was on another level. His lips felt swollen and he flinched as Red dragged a thumb along his bottom lip, gathering the bit of spit that coated it. Bakugo watched with wide eyes as Red sucked the saliva off the pad of his thumb with an obscene pop before smacking his lips.

“You virgins always taste so sweet,” Red commented.

Bakugo flushed and he looked down sheepishly at his feet. In doing so he noticed the boner he must have popped at some point during their make out session. Out of habit he tried to cover himself with the hand that wasn’t being held by Red, but it was snatched away so both his wrists were in Red’s grasp.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed. This the whole reason I’m here, remember?”

Red punctuated the statement by grinding his hips into Bakugo’s. Bakugo let out a very unmanly squeal as he felt Red’s own erection press against him. Red made a strange noise, but Bakugo didn’t have time to register it as he was suddenly being slammed into the wall.

His back hit with a solid thud and the air was knocked out of him. He gasped for breath, but then forgot how to breathe entirely as he saw that Red’s eyes were glowing, the pupils thin slits, almost reptilian.

But it wasn’t just Red’s eyes that had changed. His teeth were sharp like a shark’s, glistening in dim room. Black horns topped his forehead, fitting perfectly with the spikes of his red hair. The tips of his ears had elongated slightly, ending in distinct points. The hands that came to cup Bakugo’s ass again ended in sharp points that stung as Red dug his nails in. But that wasn’t even the worst of it.

Red had suddenly sprouted wings. Giant, leathery wings that looked bat-like. They were folded, but flared out slightly as he grinned at Bakugo wickedly. Something caught Bakugo’s attention from the corner of his eye. There was also a tail flipping back and forth behind Red, which ended in a heart shaped spike.

“Y-youre a demon?” Bakugo gasped, shaking even more now.

Red’s wings flattened agains his back. “In broad terms sure. But the correct word is Incubus.”

“Incuwhat?”

“To put it very simply, a sex demon.”

“S-sex demon?”

Bakugo’s whole body was hot. Red’s now inhuman appearance was frightening, but there was something also oddly erotic about it. His eyes seemed to draw you in and despite how dangerous they looked, Bakugo found himself wanting to delve his tongue into Red’s mouth now, tracing the points of those teeth. Said teeth were suddenly nibbling lightly at Bakugo’s neck, down his collarbone which Red laved his tongue over, dipping into the hollow and making Bakugo’s body spasm.

He’d been turned on plenty of times but this was different. It was like his body was craving more each time Red would touch him. He wanted to feel Red’s naked chest against his own, and he found himself clumsily trying to yank his shirt off.

Red chuckled and the garment was discarded along with Bakugo’s boxers, leaving Bakugo entirely exposed. Red’s eyes flicked over Bakugo’s trembling body and it felt like everywhere he looked became hot. Bakugo’s cock was already fully erect and Red’s eyes lingered on it.

He pursed his lips, as though in thought, and then he was kissing Bakugo with such force that Bakguo thought he might suffocate. Red’s mouth was wet and hot, but there was something snaking up his leg, winding round his thigh, dancing lightly over the dip in his pelvis until he felt it coil round his throbbing cock.

It was Red’s tail, wrapping Bakguo from base to tip, making him mewl into Red’s mouth. The pressure around his cock was just enough to make Bakugo want more, it was almost a tease, but then the tip of Red’s tail flicked over the head of Bakugo’s cock.

It was a completely foreign feeling, rough, but warm, and agonizingly stimulating. Red’s tail tightened around Bakugo’s cock and he began to pump him slowly while he teased Bakugo’s slit, which was dripping precum onto the leathery skin.

Red separated their mouths briefly and Bakugo gasped for air. Red’s eyes were hypnotizing and the slow fuck of his tail around Bakugo’s cock had him close to orgasm. But then the sensation was suddenly gone and Bakugo made a disappointed noise.

Red chuckled, “Don’t worry. We’re only getting started.”

Bakguo was swept up effortlessly by Red’s strong arms and deposited on his bed, still very much naked, and still very much aroused. Red stood over the bed, looking like a predator deciding how to devour its prey. His wings flexed slightly.

“You know what, I’m feeling generous tonight, so I’ll give you some special service. But first I wanna see you on your hands and knees.”

Bakugo’s brow furrowed. “My what?”

Red’s eyes began to glow brighter. “I said get on all fours.”

It was an order and Bakugo scrambled to position himself on the bed. He looked up at Red, who tutted at him before bending down so their faces were level. Bakugo’s eyelids were heavy and he opened his mouth eagerly for Red as they shared a languid kiss.

But then another order came. “Turn around.”

Bakugo hesitantly maneuvered so his backside was toward Red. He couldn’t help the blush that spread over his cheeks and all the way down to his chest. He could hear Red make a noise of approval and then Bakugo’s head was being shoved down into the sheets so his ass was in the air.

“Now be a good boy and stay still.”

Bakugo flinched as Red cupped his ass. The claws on his fingers dug into the skin ever so slightly and Bakugo tried to move away but was stopped with a hard slap to his left cheek followed by a growl from Red.

“I said don’t move.”

Bakugo’s heartbeat was pounding in his ears. The sting from where Red had slapped him was turning him on even more. He wanted to feel more so he purposefully pushed himself up from the bed.

Red’s claws dug into his scalp almost instantly, forcing his head back down as the satisfying sound of Red’s palm hitting the creamy skin of Bakugo’s ass echoed through the room. Bakguo moaned slightly and the grip on his hair vanished.

He could feel Red’s hands cup the angry red marks he’d left on Bakugo’s ass. Near perfect handprints. But Red was far from done as he spread Bakugo open. It was what Bakugo had wanted to do to the cute boy in a collar. But instead he was being worked open by a demon whose hot breath beat against his quivering hole.

Bakugo buried his face deeper in the the sheets, balling them up with his fists as he felt something wet flick at his entrance. Red’s hands tightened on Bakugo’s cheeks and then Bakugo cried out as Red’s tongue pressed into him ever so slightly.

Bakugo had tried anal play once, just to see if it was anything he was interested in. He’d managed to get two fingers in, but could never find the sweet spot he’d heard about, which was part of the reason he wanted to top.

But now, as Red’s tongue circled rings of muscles, any remaining wishes to top were long gone. In fact he found himself trying to lean in closer to Red, who was fucking him slowly with a tongue that was far to long for any human being.

It was reaching places Bakugo didn’t even know he had. Red curled his tongue slightly and Backugo let out a muffled scream of pleasure. He had the sheets between his teeth now, biting down in an attempt to keep quiet as this was a dorm.

But Red seemed to have other ideas. His tongue was pulled out, making Bakugo’s body shake. He felt the bed dip and then Red was draped over him, his chest pressed flush against Bakugo’s sweaty back. Somehow Red’s pant’s were gone and Bakugo could feel something firm and hot slide between his cheeks for a moment.

Red yanked the sheet out of Bakugo’s mouth and replaced it with two of his fingers, hooking them into Bakugo’s bottom jaw. He couldn’t feel the points of Red’s claws, but sharp teeth came to nibble on his ear as Red whispered.

“I want to hear you beg for me to fuck you.”

Bakugo’s last bit of sanity snapped as he felt the tip of Red’s tail suddenly slip inside of his quivering hole. The fingers in his mouth were making him drool onto the sheets. The flared tip of Red’s tail had slid in surprisingly easily and Bakugo clenched around it.

He let out a noise he didn’t know he was capable of making as the tip of Red’s tail brushed against an area that had Bakugo seeing stars. He heard a growl of approval, and the fingers in his mouth were taken out.

“Tell me what you want,” Red asked, his voice a low rumble.

Bakugo’s voice shook as he found himself saying, “I want you to fuck me.”

Red smiled devilishly. “Good boy. Now scream for me.”

The tip of the tail pressed right against Bakugo’s prostate and Bakugo let out a high pitched whine. It didn’t seem to satisfy Red though and his tail was slipped out quickly, leaving Bakugo’s hole clenching at air. But then the solid head of Red’s cock was there.

Red pushed in ever so slightly and Bakugo whined.

“You want more?”

Bakugo could only nod, his head bobbing up and down erratically as he panted into the sheets. Red’s tail wrapped around Bakugo’s right leg, almost holding him there as he positioned himself at Bakugo’s entrance.

In one thrust he entered him all the way and Bakugo did indeed scream. It felt like he was being ripped apart. Red’s cock was huge, filling him up in a way he never knew he wanted. He cried out again as Red pulled out before slamming back in.

Bakugo cummed as Red’s cock hit his prostate. He could feel himself clench around Red and it was almost too much as Red pulled out again and started fucking him hard and fast. Bakugo’s muscles relaxed slightly after his orgasm and somehow Red slid even deeper into him.

A low growl rumbled from behind Bakugo’s head and he felt wet strands of saliva dripping onto his back. He somehow managed to glance up at Red and the sight pushed him forward into a second orgasm.

The incubus looked like an animal in heat. He was salivating, panting heavily as he fucked into Bakugo. His wings had spread out so they filled the cavity between the bed and the ceiling. They trembled with what Bakugo hoped was Red’s own pleasure. Red’s tail tightened around Bakgugo’s leg and then Red came.

As he did he dug his claws into Bakugo’s hips, but Bakugo didn’t register the pain. He was entirely fixated on the feel of Red’s hot cum filling him up. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before and it was amazing. Red was still thrusting and Bakugo didn’t expect to feel even more spurts of cum shoot inside him. It was like Red was trying to pump him full.

With a loud moan Red’s forehead fell to rest on Bakugo’s shoulder. Bakugo could feel breath beat against his skin, cooling the saliva sticking to it. When Red finally pulled out Bakugo felt slick sliding out of him. He shuddered and tried to look up at Red again, but he couldn’t.

He was feeling strange all of a sudden. Like his body was being dragged down into the bed, his limbs becoming heavy. It was becoming hard to focus and a soft buzzing was starting to fill his head.

He was lifted like a rag doll and plopped back onto the bed. Red’s wet tongue swept up his abdomen and Bakugo shivered. He groaned as he felt Red’s mouth at his cock for a moment, licking up the cum that had dribbled down. He felt a strange sensation at the jut of his hip. It burned slightly but then it was over and exhaustion and post coitus bliss washed over him, drowning him into a deep sleep.

He faintly heard Red say something to him, but he was out before he could understand what it was.

When he awoke the next morning he was tucked into bed. His phone was on the nightstand, sheets neat and clean as though last night had never happened. Bakugo wondered if that was the case. It could have been one hell of a dream, and probably had to be.

An incubus fucking him senseless? That was the stuff of fiction. Bakugo sighed. He didn’t deny the fact that part of him wished it had been real. He could almost feel the burn from Red’s hands on his ass. As he shifted slightly, he did feel something with his ass however. It was a numb feeling and he sprung up, regretting doing so as his back throbbed painfully.

He tore the sheets off and waddled over to the mirror hanging on the closet door. Sure enough, as he yanked his boxers down there were distinctly shaped red marks on each cheek. It made Bakguo’s heart flutter for some reason, but then he noticed something else.

There was another mark on his hip. It was writing. He craned his neck down to make it out. It looked like it had been written with a sharp object and was more of a scar than anything. Bakugo’s eyebrows raised at the words.

Property of Eijiro

Eijiro? Bakugo didn’t know an Eijiro. He was thoroughly confused but then the moment before he passed out came rushing back. Red had carved this into him. He’d also whispered to him words which made Bakugo shiver remembering them.

“Next time I want my name on your lips as you cum. You’re mine now.”

[the-darklings]

╱ together.

pairing: jean & v, implied other v ships

verse: coa, alt post-ch19 timeline

word count: 4.8k

prompt: “We’ll lose.” - “Then we’ll do that together, too.”

notes: so this is a speculative piece looking at how jean might have fit into coa verse & how him and clara v could have fit together. dedicated to that one anon who asked more of them, thank you very much for making my day! 🌿 ✨

“Well, well. Out here all by yourself and in the dark?” a smooth, accented voice calls out and your shoulders jolt, stiff with disuse, your head tipping towards the approaching figure of a man. “Have you been doing much brooding, chérie?”

Jean’s tall, graceful frame casts a shadow across the decking of the penthouse terrace as he saunters closer and you bite back a grin. With the cover of darkness as his partner, he’s a panther, a predator, out for a casual hunt in the shadows. Tonight, his prey is you. But he knows better than that. You both do.

The Frenchman halts beside you and takes a seat on your right without waiting for an invitation. This time a roll of your eyes follows his innate show of arrogance but you don’t impede him. Allow him space next to you which is a privilege very few have ever been granted.

It’s dark up here. Quiet. You didn’t bother with any lights aside from the automatic pool ones. Wind whistles gently across the tranquil surface, causing a ripple to shift across the previously calm body of water. Faintly—from the direction Jean had just come from—you can still hear the rest of your family inside the apartment.

The final touches are being added and prep is being made. Tomorrow…

Tomorrow will either spell the beginning of your victory or utter defeat. One of these scenarios ends with all of you dead, if not worse.

“And here you are bothering me in my final moments of peace,” you note dully.

The man beside you stretches his legs out, inclining back in the comfortable outdoors chair leisurely. Plush and Italian made—as if Santino would ever clad his home in anything that wasn’t authentic or expensive. A taste for finer things in life is something Jean and Santino share in common. Though you’ve long since learned that Jean’s appetite comes from a different place; a place you could always relate to, much to the Italian’s chagrin.

Wind plays with your loose hair—a rare occasion when it’s not pulled out of reach—and it leaves you breathing calmly, counting the thuds of your own heart. It’s not frantic this time though. You savour every beat of your heart now. Relish the moments you still have. However few of those there are still left.

Jean shifts beside you, pulling something out of his pocket and you glance at him briefly. The dark grey of his expensive wool jumper almost makes him blend in with the night, but the icy blue of his eyes stands out with the pool lights reflecting in them. If anything, it makes his attention feel even more intent. Honed.

“Can’t a man enjoy a smoke anymore?” he wonders innocently, a touch of sarcasm clear, and places an unlit cigarette between his lips, lighting it with expert ease a moment later.

He takes a long drag before pulling it away from his mouth and you watch his profile as he exhales slowly, savouring the moment, his head tilting towards the vast sky above you.

Using his momentary distraction, you reach forward, pinching the cigarette between your fingers and placing it between your lips instead. Jean doesn’t offer much resistance. As usual, he only looks mildly amused by your antics, a brief smirk appearing before it’s gone.

“Still greedy.”

Your lips twitch at that, too. “Some things don’t change.”

You inhale deeply, feeling the burning heat of the smoke at the back of your throat before passing the cigarette back to him. The smoke slips like dreamy wisps from between your parted lips and you look towards the open sky as well. Jean’s stare stays on your mouth. You know because you can always feel him. His attention is like silk caressing your skin, kissing little patches of skin, stealing them for himself.

You’re hardly the only greedy one here. He, too, exists in absolutes. More so than he would care to admit at least.

The blinding lights of New York City—even this late—almost drown out the stars but you can still see them. As cold and as distant as the man beside you. You want to ask him why he’s out here in the first place. Why would he bother? He may dress it up as wanting to smoke but everything Jean does is far too deliberate and calculated for this to be a mere coincidence.

Nor does the man beside you believe in such things. Master of his own fate—he always has been.

Jean places the cigarette back between his lips and turns to grab something from beside his chair. You hadn’t even noticed he was carrying something. Are you slipping this much already? Your instincts and body deteriorating even quicker than you calculated?

“May I interest you in a drink?” he offers, his words almost a soft murmur around his cigarette, and raises a bottle of wine and two glasses in the air.

You don't bother hiding your chuckle. “Trying to get me drunk on the eve of the battle?’

He, in turn, doesn’t bother denying it. He only bestows you with a knowing twitch of his mouth—all half-secrets and implications; dark and arcane as him, but doesn’t confirm nor deny your words no matter how long you wait.

“Maybe your hangover will be so terrible tomorrow you will abandon your suicidal plan, vipère.”

It’s a mild statement; a test of waters more so than anything, but you know Jean doesn’t speak mindlessly often. If ever. He chooses his words as carefully as he does everything else in his life. He’s methodical; oftentimes ruthlessly so.

You watch curiously as he places one glass next to your feet and one beside his own, opening the bottle with practised, near beguiling ease. He pours half a glass each, a cigarette bit between his teeth now, and you see how he inhales the smoke, still tasting tobacco on your own tongue. Red wine and cigarettes are two flavours you associate with him. With his mouth. The growl of his voice in your ear, the roll of your name on his destructive tongue.

A smudge of dark orange light illuminates his angular, handsome features and dark stubble and you can’t quite help your next words.

“You’re here.”

You hadn’t expected him to linger. His job was done. Yet here he is.

A small sound rumbles from the back of his throat. “I’m here because you asked me to be here,” he reminds you, and you can hear the displeasure—the downright callous edge to his amiable words—when he removes the cigarette from between his lips. Smoke slips from between them as he speaks, his eyes finding yours in the darkness. “Consider yourself very lucky that I owe you, V. After this, however, I’m not sure I’m ever going to bother you with business again. I’m not sure why you bothered inviting me here in the first place.”

Yes. His debt.

He’s tried to weasel out of it for years. Everything from trying to get you into trouble, outright attempting to get rid of you, to downplaying the sheer magnitude of it. He’s never succeeded, however, and has grown fond of comparing you to a viper with seven lives.

A life debt is a life debt though.

“Maybe it’s because I don’t think you’re half as bad as you make yourself out to be.”

Even if others have outright disagreed with your opinion of the man.

Jean snorts under his breath, a cool smile splitting his face, sharper than one of your blades. Shaking his head, he lifts the glass in the air, offering it to you. You take it after a pause, watching him do the same with his glass. “You’re right,” he hums in agreement, and takes a sip of his wine; a slow one because he never rushes these things, and you know it. The cigarette returns to his mouth a moment later and he turns to glance at you again. “I’m much worse.”

“You’re also smart,” you note without missing a beat and take a mouthful, too. It’s red and fruity, and the sweetness of it coats your tongue pleasantly. Though usually you aren't too fond of wine this sweet, Jean has developed a habit of finding things you love. However accidentally. Or perhaps he knows you better than you do. He no doubt believes so. It’s become another game for him over the years. One of his favourite games to play between you on the rare occasion you would run into each other. “And know that if you betray me and my family, death will be the least of your worries.”

You don't bother mincing your words or implying things. Not this time. Not when it comes to this.

If he betrays you, he will die choking on his blood regardless of your past association or lingering fondness for him. You will rip him to shreds with your bare hands if he ever so much as attempts it.

Bringing him in on this has been the biggest risk you ever took. Everyone opposed you. Even John. Winston had been the only one who—no matter how reluctantly—eventually agreed that Jean Laurent could end up becoming a unique and unexpected advantage.

You proved your own suspicion correct. Combining Jean’s web of information with Step’s hacking skills has been as good as striking a goldmine. It’s been invaluable in gathering intel on all the members of the High Table and their weaknesses.

A vicious, clever spider sitting in the middle of his silky web of information, and you have taken advantage of every single thread in it.

You’ve been watching his every move since he joined your side like a hawk. You don't trust him—can’t trust him. You would be a fool to do so, and even though he has stuck by his word so far, you still feel like the moment you glance away from him will be the moment he sells you out.

One leak, one sly suggestion—that’s all it would take for everything you’ve been working towards to fall apart. Everything would be lost, and it would be your fault.

All because you placed some semblance of trust in the last man on earth deserving of it.

“My, my, I do love it when you talk dirty to me, vipère,” he murmurs lightly, his voice unconcerned but the shift in his eyes informs you how your words have been noted. He knows better than to dismiss you.

Jean raises the glass back to his mouth, a smouldering cigarette sitting snugly between his index and middle fingers, and you watch how the wind ruffles his black hair.

This time smoke rolls from his nose. He gazes at the New York skyline silently, pensively. Maybe he did mean his earlier words after all. Maybe he simply joined you because he, too, wants a moment to himself.

Cold nips at your fingertips—you’re not quite sure how long you’ve been sitting out here by yourself—and perhaps that’s the reason why you break the silence between you first.

“You came because I asked,” you begin carefully, still peering at him while he looks out towards the world. Forever looking ahead. You always loved that about him. Jean doesn’t like looking back, only ahead. Often you wished you could shake your past as easily as he seemingly can shake his. How many times has he told you the same? “But you chose to stay. Why?”

His expression remains impassive, not outwardly reacting to your words, and you begin to doubt he will ever offer you a response before he finally speaks up.

“It will never work,” he states frankly. “This plan of yours. It cannot be done. We’ll lose.”

Of course this is what this is about. He’s always been out for himself. The fact that he thinks your plan will fail should not surprise you. He told you as much the moment you finished telling him about it. He point-blank called you an idiot for ever thinking you could take on the High Table and win.

You are many things, V, but foolish is not one of them.

You had hoped these weeks spent planning and working together would have changed his mind. Shown to him that this isn’t a simple pipe dream. That you have the raw skill and the will to follow through with this coup.

You wanted Jean to believe in this goal—this dream—too.

He is, of course, not wrong.

The longer you planned, the more of this plan came together, the easier it became to see what he’d been saying from the start.

You are not only likely to lose, you are near guaranteed to do so.

Unless…

Unless you gamble away everything. Whatever little there is still left of you. The clock is already ticking. It has been for two months now. Every minute of every day the end is nearing. The least you can do…

The least you can do is make it count.

“Then we’ll do that together, too,” you say softly.

And it won’t be such a terrible way to go, you think, keeping them safe.

Jean finally drags his eyes your way. The bitterness creasing his expression cuts deeper than you ever could have expected it to. It’s rare for him to show this much.

“Do not tell me you are this naive, chérie,” he says coldly, his expression emptying of emotions swiftly. He seems to have caught himself in the uncharacteristic slip, exhaling a low, “But it seems like this night is full of disappointments,” he adds quietly with a forced exhale, his eyebrows curving downwards.

Neither of you speaks for a while after that.

You cradle the wine glass between your partially numb fingers, occasionally lifting it to your mouth.

Maybe you should get drunk. Do something reckless. The call of the void has been screaming at you as of late. Seductive whisper after seductive whisper how you could and should do anything you want. With whoever you want.

L'appel du vide, vipère, Jean used to exhale hotly against your ear, it is why you and I are the same. Your days are numbered unless some miracle happens and you find an antidote anyway.

But feeling hopeful after failing for two months straight is not something you can muster up tonight.

You realise, then, that this may very well be the last opportunity to get some answers from the man beside you. Get some rectification on your odd bond over the years. Not your first attempt but what will certainly be your last.

“Do you think…”

You’re suddenly unsure where to even begin. How does one untangle years of tiptoeing around different labels? Enemies that are not quite enemies. Lovers that are not quite lovers. Friends when it suits them, then the cycle repeats, and it’s like they’re back at square one all over again. Constant push and pull.

You’ve never been sure where you stand with Jean. Two years ago everything between you changed but unlike with others, he’s always been every blurred line in your life. An almost-maybe.

“I try to,” comes his dry response from beside you.

You roll your eyes, bobbing your leg up and down as another gust of wind sweeps across the silent terrace.

Jean has finished his cigarette, his shrewd stare now focused on you, expectant.

Go on, then, say it, his unfaltering stare seems to goad.

You’re not nervous. You have nothing left to fear, not anymore. But all the same…

You’re tired of constantly being hurt by someone. Your question opens the door for exactly that.

“Do you think we ever could have worked out?”

Had life gone just a little different. Had you met when you were both less guarded and twisted up inside. You, at least, have managed to find people willing to stand in your corner and fight your fight.

He’s all alone.

And maybe he prefers it that way—he has certainly always been adamant that he does—but you’ve never believed it. Not fully, at least.

A house full of people he could string along and play with, yet the liesmith seeks refuge out here in the dark. With you.

A thoughtful hum, then, “Don’t let your gaggle of boyfriends hear you asking me that.”

You almost splutter.

Your head snaps in his direction, your eyes narrowing, “I don’t have a gaggle of…fuck you,” you spit when you spot his smug expression and a raised brow.

“You have,” he purrs, his accented words a caress of his hot mouth across your fluttering pulse. “Many, many, filthy times, amante. Or am I so easy to forget?”

“You know, for how often you go on about Santino stroking his ego,” you remark dryly, giving him a pointed stare. “You sure do it often yourself.”

Jean clicks his tongue, leaning back in his seat, more irked by the change in the topic than he lets on. You’ve learned to read him as well. To a degree, at least.

“Am I supposed to be impressed by D’Antonio’s drooling?” he scoffs, words bland but tone sharp. “It’s frankly embarrassing. Either he’s atrocious at seducing you and you’re entertaining him out of pity, or he doesn’t understand you at all.”

His words dig into your heart but you don’t let him see it. Quirking an amused brow, you instead stare at him. “At this point, I honestly can’t tell if you hate him because you’re French and he’s Italian or because you don’t like him as a person.”

Jean grins this time; a dark, cruel thing. “Ah, chérie, hatred is too strong of an emotion to waste on someone I don’t care about,” he rebukes smoothly, standing to his feet. He glances in your direction, adding a deliberate, “But D’Antonio hates me because I won the one thing he always wanted but could never have.”

You.

Even if it weren’t for the deliberate, hot dig of Jean’s stare focusing on your face, you know as much already.

Blue depths drag over your still shape, lingering on your neck and lips, and you wonder if he’s thinking back on all the wicked things he’s done with them. Every moan and bruise, every hot drive into your body and mould of your naked skin together. He’s been an escape from everything. A bit of fun, a release, a shadow smearing in and out of your life for years.

Now though, you can’t help but wonder. Can’t help but consider why it’s always been so easy with him when it hasn’t been with others. Why every pursuit of happiness in the past has ended in misery and pain. With Jean, you always got exactly what you signed up for.

Mindblowing sex, thrill, challenge, and an escape without any attachments. No promises of a glowing future or expectations for you. He never made you live under the expectation of you being anything other than yourself. Messy and cracked around the edges but still you.

Jean has never cared for a normal life or demanded it of you, never wanted you to become an apprentice or Lady of anything.

You’ve always been enough to him just as you are, you realise with a dizzying rush. And his awful, seductive, traitorous self has always been enough for you as well. He’s never tried to change you or himself to appease you.

Not hearing a response, Jean offers you another striking grin you know has seduced endless numbers to his bed and turns to go.

“Wait!” you call out, jumping to your feet. Your joints protest, groaning and cracking, and stumble a step after him. He’s paused in his tracks, turning back towards you. “You never answered my question. If you think we could have worked out.”

You stand together, breathing, and he gazes at you for a long, charged minute. It’s nigh impossible to tell what’s going on behind his effortless mask of ease and composure. Always in control of himself and his emotions.

You’re about to ask him again but he closes the distance between you in two steps, grabbing you by the neck and yanking you to him. His mouth is hot and consuming as you remember it. His tongue drags over the roof of your mouth, seeking out every edge, every crevice, claiming it entirely. Claiming you. Despite him standing almost a head taller, you snake your hand around his neck, savouring his hiss of breath at the feeling of your cold fingers on his heated neck. Broad shoulders block the wind, block the rest of the world, and you sigh into him. He still tastes of smoky tobacco and sweet wine. A dizzying mix that stirs your body, warming your blood. Your nails drag up his neck and into the strong strands of his midnight hair, scratching all the while. You feel his hold on the back of your neck tighten in response.

The battle between you two never ceases and you can feel him grinning against your mouth, as if he, too, is having the same epiphany.

“Don’t die,” he exhales hotly against your parted lips when you separate with a gasp, still holding you to him, every hard edge of his body cutting into you. “Maybe then we can find out.”

Don’t die.

You almost burst into tears.

I’m dying right now, you want to confess to him. Would he stay if he knew as much? Would he stay until your heart halted inside your chest and you became forever still? Would he be kind if you asked him to be? Just this once?

He’s unaware of your internal struggle, dragging his thumb over the line of your jaw. Lips parted, and eyes hooded—you’ve seen this side of him many times. The sensuous lover with his sultry eyes more sapphire than blue now that he’s gazing down at you. How many times has he stared at you exactly like this? Caught dragging his tongue over every crevice of your body, his favourite being the dip between your thighs and your neck.

Jean nudges backwards, and you read his question there, his body asking what his tongue won’t.

If you’re joining him in bed. If tonight you’re his. Another stolen instance between you.

“I can’t,” you say quietly. He doesn’t appear surprised or angry by your refusal, his hands slipping from your body with a nod. But you don’t let him retreat, grasping his forearm, feeling the coil of muscle where you’re holding onto him. “Wait.”

Reaching into your back pocket, you pull out a familiar, heavy object. Gold gleams in the low light and you turn the circular disk, warmed by your body.

Jean stiffens at the sight of it. You both know what it is.

Opening the Marker with a too quiet click, you release your hold on him, staring at the print of his blood smeared inside.

He helped you only because the High Table would have hunted him if he hadn’t obeyed his Marker, you remind yourself. You silence the voice inside your head that reminds you he could have sold the information to them for immunity if he so wished.

Exhaling, you press your thumb against the tiny needlepoint, not reacting to the bite of pain. Blood wells against your skin and you stare at it for a moment.

You’re not sure if Jean is still breathing but you feel the intensity of his stare searing into your body.

Breathing deeply, you press your thumb harshly against the cool metal. Another second later you pull back, staring at your dual blood prints on the metal plate. Your insides quiver at the sight of it.

This is the way it’s always been between you. Shadows and blood, secrets and hunger.

Sometimes…

Sometimes in between those moments, you could almost pretend he loved you.

“We both know you were going to leave anyway,” you begin tightly, closing the Marker with a grim smile, holding it out to him. “This was just another shitty goodbye. Never thought you’d manage to top Venice. Or Berlin for that matter. But now you’re free. I no longer want you here, so don’t be here tomorrow. Save yourself while you still can.”

He doesn’t deny your words. He at least respects you enough to not dismiss you like he would others. Let them tangle themselves in a web of speculations and doubts. Jean enjoys few things more than people choking on their own words. A rope of their own fashioning is poetic justice, he used to tell you.

He reaches for the Marker, the one damn thing that’s always tied you together, and takes it. A stab pierces your heart to see it in his grasp. Now there’s nothing between you. You don’t doubt his earlier words. It’s unlikely he will want to associate with you in the future after this.

Doesn’t matter now though. You’re likely to be dead by tomorrow, or another few weeks if you’re lucky.

If.

“You knew.”

Your smile is grim. “Of course. I know you better than you think.”

He won’t risk himself for a plan doomed to fail.

You drop your hand but he grabs it before it can fall back to your side. This time his kiss is different. Hungrier, simmering with some desperation you’ve only caught glimpses of a few times in the past. A silent war in him you’ve never been able to decipher. Jean cups one of your cheeks, leaning over your at an angle that’s unlikely to be comfortable with your height difference but you savour it all the same. His heat. His presence. The burn of his stubble scratching against your skin. More, more, more. You want every last bit of him.

You’ve never noticed how safe a man this dangerous makes you feel. After Tokyo, Chicago, after the desert, after everything you’ve been through, you never thought you’d ever feel like this again.

Alive.

For being no better than glaciers, cold and merciless, nothing burns better than him.

His nose nudges against your cheek—it’s too big, you put that nose any closer to me and you might take an eye out—his arm, an iron band around your waist. Jean is never shy about his touches, he knows exactly how every inch of you trembles and shudders. He’s spent endless hours familiarising himself with every inch of you after all. You hate how you feel a silent goodbye in every second of your body curled against his now.

“Come with me,” he says, and it borders on a snarl, a demand. “Arrêter… this stupidity now and come with me. My web goes far and wide. I could hide you.”

“And go where?” you wonder softly, leaning into his touch, his thumb stroking your cheek despite the chipped bite of his native tongue. You’re desperate for another few seconds with him.

You never thought you would miss him this much, that you would ache so much at the mere thought of never seeing him again.

“Anywhere, vipère,” he drawls, tugging you closer as if he’s a hair away from throwing you over his shoulder and disappearing into the unknown. For a single second, you want him to. “The world is ours. A beach. You and me, and a whole lot of naked skin,” he continues with a seductive grin you feel against your face.

Seduction—his preferred weapon of choice. You wonder if you’re imagining the harder bite of his voice and meaner grip of his hands, as if he needs to convince you to abandon everything and disappear.

Your closed eyes flutter open, meeting his earnest stare. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him more earnest in all the years you’ve known him.

“I want to,” you tell him, leaning closer to kiss him once, softly. His muscles tighten and you half expect him to flinch away from it because it’s not lust you’re kissing him with, and he knows this. He’s too good not to recognise it. Leaning back, your breaths still mingle, and you inhale his cologne, “But I’m done running, Jean. One way or another. This ends. Now go. I don’t need you anymore.”

He pulls back, his smile cool, caustic. “You’re still a terrible liar, amante.”

The golden Marker disappears inside his pocket. Out of sight.

“I do believe there’s more left for me to teach,” he drawls deliberately, his smile smoothing into something more enticing, crooked as it is sly. “I’ll be seeing you, V.”

There’s no question there. You don’t have the heart to inform him you’re unlikely to ever see each other again.

When no one can locate Jean in his room or reach him over the phone the next morning, you simply tell others to stop looking and focus.

It’s better this way anyway.

At least this way one of you gets to live.

[froggymakinsoup]

i'm gonna start writing some headcanons so let's start with-

Eyeless Jack headcanons !

- kind of obvious but he is t a l l

- i'd say around 6'7 or 6'8

- voice wise i hc that he sounds like corpse ahdsksjsdjlsks

-it just fits in my opinion

-he doesn't just eat organs! he can have regular animal meat too

-he can't digest most other "normal" foods :(

-despite not being able to eat it, he likes to cook!

-on good days he'll cook for the other pastas :)

-now onto the goop

- the poor guy, it stains e v e r y t h i n g :(

- constantly stealing clothes from victims bc his get all goopy

- he wears black a lot so it doesn't show up as much

-he's stressed a lot of the time :/

-he de-stresses by cleaning/cooking or listening to music (usually both at once!)

-he really likes music!

-he'll listen to (almost) anything

-mom friend, but not in the "uwu" way

-more of the "calling you names and scolding you while i patch up ur stab wound"

-he doesn't know tons of medical stuff, but he does basic first aid + some extras

-like he can stitch you up n stuff but he can't perform a successful surgery (unless the goal is to take ur organs skdkskal)

-scarily quiet

-like he'll stand right beside you for like 15 minutes before you realize he's there

-really helpful in hunting

-he doesn't have to eat often

-i'd say about once or twice every two weeks or so

-he probably gets along well with masky + hoodie but he tolerates ben and jeff

-(and by that i mean he genuinely enjoys their company and the chaos but he'd never admit it-)

-ik i put it in my drawings of him all the time but his ears :00

-long, pointy ears make brain go brrrr-

-he has a few ear piercings he got in college that he just kept for fun :)

-he probably helps the others if they want piercings

-CLAWS

-very pointy :0

-they can grow when he goes to hunt to be sharper and longer

-he lets sally paint them :)

-he let's sally do a lot of things actually (like his hair)

-he occasionally just walks around with bright colored clips in his hair bc sally put them in

-he probably drinks wine

-he really likes dogs :)

-he just wants one or two big dogs is that too much to ask for :(

-teef

-sharp teeth bc... yeah... :)

-bi with male leaning (i think that's how you phrase it)

(this was allllll over the place but i hope you guys like it! i might post more like this :D)

[alderaani]

Embers

summary: After Umbara, Boil learns how to endure, and how to reclaim pieces of his brothers marching on | AO3 | series

warnings: canonical character death, grief, animal injury + mentions of animal death (completely not explicit, on the level of canon-typical violence).

a/n: finally another part of my 100 clone prompts - the rest of the series is linked above! i know there’s not much in canon to support Waxer being an animal lover, but i wanted to give Gree a friend to nerd out with and it’s cute. also gotta pay homage to @nibeul’s wonderful art here - while I wasn’t consciously inspired by it, it hits on v similar themes and is just beautiful like...that image of waxer holding up numa lives in my head rent free.

-

Insects swirled in a halo around his helmet. They swarmed around the seams of his blacks, too, attracted to the small beads of sweat there, to the tiny strips of flesh he couldn’t quite cover. The rising bites itched, rubbing where the edge of his vambraces met fabric, and the buzzing was enough to drive a man mad. Boil sighed, brushing them off half-heartedly and watching them billow angrily away. They’d be back. They always were.

In the reprieve, he fumbled at his belt for the viewfinders hooked there and brought them to his visor. As he spun the dial to within half a klik so that he could search the undergrowth, his thumb settled in the comforting groove where Waxer had dropped them and chipped the plastoid. He worried at it with his nail while he scanned, frowning.

It was too still.

Too quiet.

Had been in his head for weeks now, verging on a month, and he was still waiting to feel something other than crippling emptiness. There weren’t any dreams any more, none except for the oldest one they all pretended not to have; levelling a blaster against Kenobi’s head and pulling the trigger. Even that didn’t feel like the nightmare it used to.

Eventually he lowered the viewfinder, feeling the hair stand up on the back of his neck at the stifled sound of his own breath in the dense air. A faint, humid breeze stirred the leaves, sending a cloud of thick yellow pollen up towards the canopy. Boil blinked to bring up the filter diagnostic on his HUD, keeping his belly low to the ground to avoid the stuff as it drifted lazily overhead.

“Kid, you doin’ alright out there?”

He listened to the static hum of the comm line for a few moments, biting back the panic that crawled up the back of his throat when it dragged on just a beat too long.

“Apart from gettin’ gnawed on by the bugs? Just grand, Sir.”

Potshot sounded a little winded, but that was probably just the heat. Blacks self-regulated temperature, but only to the extent that they made sure you sweated evenly. It never used to be quite so bad; that had been the one thing Phase 1 armour had going for it, for all it was bulkier and less adaptable to varied terrain. He supposed the Republic had had to cut costs somewhere. Waxer would’ve been whining by now that his ass was so hot they could light a flare off it. Potshot was young enough that he’d never known any different.

“Good, you see anything?” Boil grunted, pinging his location anyway. There was no real reason for it; Potshot might’ve still been green but he wasn’t stupid, and he’d done well to keep up so far. Boil could stand being self aware enough to acknowledge that he hadn’t been the most welcoming, or the most patient with the new partner he’d never wanted. He wouldn’t have had any right to be overbearing now, but it was for his own comfort, however small and bittersweet.

“Nothin’ at all. That seem odd to you too?” Potshot said, as the surveillance holos he’d taken popped up. Boil flipped through them, earmarking a couple to show him how to improve the angle later. The important shit was all there - enough to confirm what he’d already suspected. No birds, no creatures, no fresh droppings.

Just the bugs, and the trees, and them.

“Yeah, it’s odd alright. Think we’ve found what the general’s looking for.”

Boil felt pressure around his right boot and turned, vibroblade in hand, to stab into the fleshy vine knotting round it. It writhed and retreated, leaving behind pitted, smoking trails where acid had started eating into the plastoid. He registered the damage with a dull sort of annoyance. It was something else to take care of later, a way to look busy and shape the silence. It would fend off the others and their offers of company, made out of pity he couldn’t bear to look at.

“Really? What’re you seein’, boss?” Potshot asked.

Boil glanced upwards to track the position of the sun; high, almost directly overhead. At the peak of the day this place should have been teeming. Instead the only tracks he’d found had been baked solid, and this wasn’t the shocked quiet that followed a stampede. It was stagnant, aging.

“This forest is in the centre of an old super-volcanic crater, right?” he asked, not waiting for a response. It had been in the mission dossier, alongside profiles of the flesh eating plants, the deadly pollen and the venomous creatures, all of it fenced into the sloped, unforgiving bowl of the terrain. It was the kind of forest that stuck in the mind. “And we know that something has driven the wildlife away.”

Potshot hummed, the comm muffling for a second as he shifted. It took a moment of bitter disappointment coiling in Boil’s belly for him to realise that he’d been waiting for a sharp quip that wasn’t coming. He swallowed thickly, wondering how it was possible to feel so wrongfooted while lying down. If he’d ever find his balance again. If he ever wanted to feel whole now that such a fundamental piece was missing.

Potshot groaned suddenly. “Kriff it, the factories we’re looking for are underground, aren’t they?”

Boil forced a chuckle, choking past the self hatred clawing up through his lungs. The kid deserved better, deserved a superior who didn’t constantly treat him like a ghost.

“That’s it, kid. Just like the simulations, eh?”

Potshot laughed, the easy sound making Boil’s throat seize in longing so strong his teeth ached. Waxer would’ve loved him, and that made it all the worse.

“Hardly. What do we do next?”

“Alright,” Boil said, lifting the viewfinder for one last look at where he could see slight fog rising through the trees. “You get your ass back to forward command and debrief the General, I’m heading in for a closer look.”

“ What? But - Sir! We’re supposed to be working as a team. I can’t leave you -”

“Sometimes working as a team means you do your duty and trust the others to do theirs.” He cut in, keeping his voice steady by force of will. Sometimes, it meant carrying on alone. Boil clipped the viewfinder back into place and prepared to move, even as Potshot continued protesting. Boil didn’t answer for long enough that silence fell on the line.

“...am I not performing to the standard expected, Sir?”

Potshot’s voice was soft, all vulnerable underbelly. Still so shiny, and Boil remembered feeling like that, like there was still a scorecard constantly on his forehead.

“No - kid -” Boil sighed, dropping his head forward. He’d never learned how to be gentle - it hadn’t ever come naturally, and there had been no reason to lose his sharp edges when Waxer had always been there to foil them for him. He felt sharper now than ever, full of shards that didn’t sit right, and fished among the pieces for something his brother might have said. “I trust you to have my back. You’re doing everything right. But...sometimes we’ve gotta think of the mission. We need more proof before we can move in, but the two of us get caught, command loses what we already know.”

“Can’t we just send a comm?” Potshot asked, his voice still tight and hurt sounding and he was fucking this up, shouldn’t have been trusted to try to fix himself without breaking everyone else wide open in the process.

“Don’t trust it not to get intercepted,” Boil said, which was only half a lie, and would have made Cody scoff at the back to front over-caution. “And it don’t all fit in a comm. They’ll need everything you can remember to plan the advance.”

Potshot sighed, but when he spoke again his voice was looser. “...Yes, Sir. I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t,” Boil said, feeling his own chest lighten. “If you don’t hear from me by 1100 then raise me on the priority channel.”

He listened until Potshot had stated a reluctant affirmative and clicked off the line, then bellied out of the undergrowth and headed further in, to the epicentre of the unnatural quiet. He liked the way his mind went silent on recon, how everything else fell away. It wasn’t quite the same, tilted just a little off axis, but similar enough to when it had been Waxer at his six that if he didn’t think about it, he could almost trick himself into believing nothing had changed.

Plus, the space was good, just for a few minutes, where he didn't have to pretend for anyone.

It was a quiet journey, for the most part, punctuated only by the steps he couldn’t quite muffle. His thoughts were broken some time later when he suddenly heard it; the distant mechanical boom of something deep underground. He quickened his pace, following the vibrations until the earth under his feet grew hot, the air shimmering unnaturally in front of him. It had been like this at Point Rain, when the sand baked and glinted, glass-like, under the blaze of the overhead sun. If he hadn’t known the super-volcano was very thoroughly extinct, he could have kidded himself that it was just the geothermal energy of magma moving close to the surface. A clever disguise. But not clever enough.

The ground sloped ever downwards the further into the bowl he got. He watched where he placed his feet as it grew rockier, stones and small craters acting like pitfall traps concealed by the moss. Boil pinged his scanner every minute, searching for Seppie probes as the terrain tapered, falling away into a green-rimmed yawning abyss. Set into the centre of it was a huge grate, the source of the searing air. Here were the factories they’d been looking for, exactly where he’d suspected. It was a muted sort of satisfaction.

He crouched at the edge of the drop, taking holos and transmitting them directly to the Commander’s HUD. Then he checked his chrono and sent an unapologetic follow up that he’d be late to rendezvous, seeing that 1100 was about to come and go. Then he minimised the comms on his HUD to flash for priority only; he’d get bollocked for being late sooner or later, but he figured it would be novel to have it fully in person.

Finally he turned, ready to start the rapid scale back towards the 212th's forward camp, when he registered a low, keening whine.

His blaster was in his hands within a moment, trained at the knee-high leaves. The sound came again, higher this time, followed by laboured panting.

He gently brushed aside some of the foliage with his blaster barrel. Dark eyes stared at him from between the leaves. They both froze. It was some sort of animal, obviously; a mammal, probably a predator. It was small too, with paws too large for its scrawny body and a dark, downy fur that rippled with every laboured breath.

Sharp teeth. A narrow muzzle. A long, whip-like tail.

A vornskr, Boil thought, and hated how readily the identification came, how readily he tensed in anticipation of the inevitable Boil can you see - do you know how rare -

He shook the memories away, of Waxer leaning precariously over the top bunk to wave some manual Commander Gree had sent him in his face, bleating about some animal or species that Boil couldn’t pronounce. In the present the vornskr pup cowered away from him, pushing backwards on thin, spindly legs. Deceptively powerful though, he’d bet.

The creature let out another whine and stumbled, an odd abortive movement. Boil pressed more of the leaves away to get a better look and swore when he saw the brutal metal trap closed around one of its small hind legs, paring down to bone. His blaster was up and trained on the thing before he thought much about it. Better to shoot it, put it out of its misery, than prolong its suffering. It was what they did as part of the cleanup sometimes; wildlife was usually pretty good at getting out of the active battlefronts, but there were always stragglers. The too old or the too young, mostly.

Creatures like this one.

The vornskr stilled, staring at him with those big, wide eyes as if it knew exactly what he was thinking. Boil swallowed. Waxer wouldn’t have let him shoot it. Waxer also wasn’t here now to stop him, but Boil felt his arm lower all the same, just a few inches before he pulled the trigger. The vornskr yelped as the trap hinges came apart in two neat halves and immediately tried to run. It didn’t get very far before it collapsed, panting again.

Boil sighed and shook his head, holstering his blaster across his back.

“That was a stupid thing to do,” he tsked, shuffling closer.

He kept half an eye on the tail, remembering something about it being venomous. While being high off his ass on some unknown substance had the potential to make Cody’s dressing down more interesting, it might also kill him before he got there.

The vornskr growled as he leaned over it, baring needle sharp teeth, and made a snap at him when Boil reached out.

“Ah, give over,” he muttered, batting the attempt away. The little body was light in his hands as he lifted it, careful to let the injured leg hang out as he folded it into his chest. The vornskr made an odd, throaty sound and shifted, almost experimental. Then it huffed, and after a pause laid its head across his vambrace.

Boil rolled his eyes at the display, setting off towards forward command as soon as he was halfway sure he wasn’t in danger of losing a finger.

It was...nice, to have that little body cradled to him, reminiscent of better occasions when Waxer just had to stick his nose into every curious happening and inevitably adopted some struggling lifeform. However much Boil had complained, it had never steered them wrong.

When he got back to command it was to find Cody pacing the perimeter, Potshot perched on a crate nearby. The Commander’s bucket was under his arm. Boil winced. With Cody that was never an accident - usually so he could get the full weight of a glare in, the excavating kind he’d learned from Kenobi and then weaponised so that it pierced straight down to bone.

“Boss!” Potshot exclaimed, pushing off his seat. “You made it!”

“What time d’you call this?” Cody demanded, stalking over. “I was about to -”

Cody stopped short, gaze dropping to the furry bundle against Boil’s breastplate. Something in his expression softened and Boil felt in his heart, panicking as a lump rose in his throat.

“What’s that?” Cody asked.

Boil let his gaze slide downwards to a point far beyond, where two troopers were fighting over a tarp.

“Found it in a trap,” he said, his voice ragged. “Couldn’t - couldn’t let it die.”

He flicked his eyes back to Cody’s face and breathed through the grief and understanding he found there. Cody stepped forward and clasped Boil’s elbow.

“I’m sure Tranq will be able to do something for it.” A little upturn crept into the line of Cody’s lips. “Debrief in fifteen.”

Boil nodded and broke away, tipping his head to Potshot before clearing his throat roughly and popping his bucket off one-handed as he made his way to the medtent. The sun was warm on his face here, the air lighter. A butterfly flew lazily past and the vornskr lifted its head, tracking the motion with large, interested eyes.

Boil smiled, hoisting his bucket under one arm and daring to touch the creature's head with his freed hand. It wouldn’t ever bring Waxer back, but it meant something that this little life continued, because of the choices his brother would have made and all that he had been. Like the phantom touch of the sun still lingering in cooling earth.

It wouldn’t ever be enough. But, perhaps, it was just the right amount to cling onto.

-

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[tothemeadow]

if it's genuinely ok to ask for more, akaza anon would really, really love to see a part 2 of the fic you wrote last time!! like, after he escorts the reader home and she has more time to admire him, maybe she could fawn over how pretty he is and end up downright desperate to please him in any way possible? .. my thirst is showing, lmao... but i feel like demons need more appreciation for their 'demonic' aspects like fangs/markings/etc-- things the average person would likely be put off by. ;v;

sexy basketball

‘the taste of marechi pt. 2′ / Akaza x Reader

warnings: NSFW, mentions of blood, you know the drill

words: 1,624

-

There’s something about playing with fire that pulls you in; the mere danger of it all is enticing, the idea of getting hurt too risky, but it’s worth it.

Clutching onto Akaza’s bare shoulders, you muffle your squeals in his shoulder as he jumps from roof to roof. Air whistles in your ears, carries the loose strands of your hair. You’re flying, for gods’ sakes, and yet you’re spending every moment with your eyes shut. Just then, Akaza comes to an abrupt stop, his whole body relaxing.

“We’re here,” he mutters. Dropping to the ground, dust clouds around his feet and he gently sets you down.

Opening your eyes, you realize that he’s right; you gawk up at your home, the lights already burned out. It seems like no one else is awake.

“This place smells like you, so I just…” Akaza trails off awkwardly. It’s kind of funny, especially after he was fucking you so roughly merely minutes ago.

“You should come inside,” you murmur. Reaching towards him, your fingers interlace with his. In the moonlight, you can clearly seeing the dark blue markings covering his entire body, how they travel down his muscular arms and leave his fingers entirely blue. “I promised I had more to show you, didn’t I?”

“You’re awfully giving,” Akaza grunts, but he lets you pull him towards your home.

With careful movements, you unlock the doors and slip inside, kicking your geta off as Akaza slowly closes the door behind you. The air is thick with tension as you sneak towards your room, taking extra caution as to not awaken your parents. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, the idea of getting caught heavy on your mind.

Even after you slide the shoji screen leading to your room closed, unease still lays on your shoulders. The fact that a man is in your room has your mind spinning; this is inappropriate in society’s eyes, but you’re way past that at this point. You’ve already let Akaza defile you, and in the most delicious way possible. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want more.

Already, Akaza’s stirring behind you, his chest meeting your back as he drapes his arms around you. His hand caresses your inner thigh through your yukata, tauntingly close to where the searing ache is starting to grow once more. His lips skim over the bitemark he’s left, his claim of possession.

“I want to see you,” you breathe, your head lolling back onto his shoulder. You’re still somewhat dizzy from the passionate encounter earlier, your bottom lip swollen from his ruthless attack.

“Eager now, aren’t you?” Akaza mutters. He nips at your neck, drawing out a sharp breath from you. “And at first you were terrified to see me.”

“Please, Akaza,” you urge. You manage to spin around his grasp, your hands landing on his pectorals. Pushing him backwards, you guide him to your bed; the back of his knees catch on the edge of the mattress and down he goes, a slight laugh slipping from his lips as you straddle him.

You kiss him slowly, taking the time to savor his taste, the heat of his mouth. Your bitten lip aches, begs for a chance to take some time and heal, but you ignore it. Akaza grows more and more handsy, his large palms squeezing on the plush mounds of your ass. He relishes in your quiet groan, his tongue easily finding passage into your mouth. His cock stirs underneath you, prods at your pubic bone; it’s with great reluctance you pull away, a string of saliva sticking from your lip as you detach yourself fully from the demon.

Akaza groans impatiently, though he gets comfy on your bed and chucks off his clothes. He watches on as you light the few lamps in your bedroom; your hands shake from anticipation, and it’s almost impossible to strike the match. Glancing back over to him, you nearly choke on your own spit. He’s sitting up against the headboard, pink lashes cast low over his eyes, his fingers wrapped around his cock. The image itself is so sinful, and it makes the slick gathering between your legs spill onto your thighs.

You were a fool before. Seeing him like this, in actual light instead of under the moon, he’s ethereal. You’re drawn to him like a moth to a flame, your mouth hanging open in awe. Akaza merely looks at you in amusement, an eyebrow quirking itself on his forehead.

Dropping to your hands and knees on the bed, you crawl over to him. What once was scary, inhuman… it’s beautiful. You know he’s a demon, but he looks more like a god. His breath hitches as your hands run over his meaty thighs, run up his defined abs. The blue and gold of his eyes are precious gemstones, so deep and vibrant in color that you’re desperate to commit them to memory. You don’t want this to be the only night you spend with him, but an inkling the back of your head says otherwise.

Akaza stops all movements, his breath going completely still as you run your fingers over his face, tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the swell of his bottom lip. What you really want to see, though, are his teeth.

“Open up,” you murmur.

As if falling under your spell, Akaza opens his mouth. You stare at the dazzling canines, the tips sharper than any blade out there. It was those teeth that bit into you, that tongue the beckoned your blood to spill. Pleasure makes your entire body thrum as you slowly poke at his sharp teeth. You jolt in surprise when Akaza’s lips abruptly close around your finger; keeping his eyes focused on yours, he suckles on your fingers, his tongue lathering over the digit. His teeth scrape against your knuckle, just barely breaking the surface. He moans throatily as the tiniest droplets of your delicious blood land on his tongue.

You can’t stop staring at him. You press your finger further into his mouth, push down on his tongue and urge him to bite you some more. Your other hand joins the one he has wrapped around his cock; he groans at the touch, his eyes fluttering enticingly.

“How are you so pretty?” you breathe. Removing your fingers from his mouth, you run them down his body, follow the lines of his dark blue markings. The colors of his skin, his hair, his eyes… You’ve never seen anything like it before.

“(y/n), fuck,” Akaza grits. He chokes on a moan as you gently squeeze his cock. “Take off your clothes…”

“Yes, my lord,” you say automatically. Akaza’s cock kicks in your hand at the title, a fat drop of precum swelling from the cockhead and slipping down the side.

He hisses as you pull away; you make hasty work of stripping down, your nipples standing to attention, the slick between your legs feeling cool against your heated skin. Akaza moans at the sight, his hands reaching out and eagerly grasping onto your breasts.

“Akaza,” you purr, “I want to pleasure you. My lord, please.”

The moan bubbling from Akaza’s chest is muffled as he stuffs his face between your breasts, his hands dropping down to your ass instead. He mouths at the swell of flesh, his tongue dragging a hot trail up your sternum.

“Bite me,” you plead. “Drink from me. Ruin me.”

“Shit, shit, shit – fuck!”

Yanking you closer, Akaza lifts your hips, snaps you down on his aching cock. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the sudden intrusion, but by the gods does he feel wonderful. Sparks of pain and heat erupt in your chest; his teeth retract from the side of your breast, his hot tongue quickly replacing it as he sucks at the rich blood pouring from the wound. He continuously fondles your breasts, rolling and pinching at your hardened nipples with his fingers.

You take it upon yourself to fuck him. Setting a frenzied pace, your thighs burn with the movements, your velvety walls clenching around his cock with each smooth stroke. Akaza growls against your skin, his hands finding purchase on your ass once more as he helps guide you through the moves. Wet sounds echo throughout the room, along with the sound of skin hitting skin and heavy panting.

Fingers clenched around the strands of his hair, you cry out his name, your voice impossibly hoarse. You want to scream, let the whole world know who’s fucking you so damn good, but you can’t. Not if you want your parents to find out you’re sleeping with a man-eating beast.

“Delicious,” Akaza husks. “I wanna suck you until you’re dry.” He bounces you even quicker on his cock, his hips rocking up into you at the same time. You have no choice but to take it, allow yourself to become his plaything while he fucks you into oblivion. “How is your pussy still so tight?” he pants. “Let me fuck you all night.”

Without even realizing it, you nod frantically at his words. You wish he’d fuck you forever, drink your blood to the very last drop. Even as Akaza rapidly brings you to your orgasm, he bites at your chest over and over, leaving deep marks and drinking as much as he wishes. You cream around his cock, your hand slapping over your mouth as your orgasm rips through you; Akaza merely growls and flips you over, your back digging into the mattress as he sets on a conquest to make you cum all night long.

Because you’re delicious and you’re his, whether you like it or not.