heartfullofleeches

[heartfullofleeches]

God forbid The Creature walks past someone smoking a cigarette 😂

Quiting cigarettes because they're bad for health: 👍

Quitting cigarettes because you saw your neighbor being choked out by an inter-dimensional clown who gets a buzz off clean oxygen: 👍👍👍

Stoner Darling is on thin ice, but Creature plays favorites so as long as they're bonded he's willing to give them some leeway. It'd probably be best if they dialed back on smoke usage if they don't want a grumpy clown pouncing on guests. They're off limits, but the same can't be said for other humans.

[heartfullofleeches]

Just a heads up - Rot (Coconut) milk goes by they/them pronouns only

[heartfullofleeches]

Creature Feature-

This is Creature. It is an alternate dimension clown war criminal person thing from a reality so polluted it makes them high off their ass and almost completely nullifies violent tendencies he may have. They're a silly little guy who loves life now and frequently brings you flowers he digs up out of gardens. Keep him far away from things that may dirty the air quality like power plants and its the sweetest thing ever-

He was/is a plush I'm making but I fell in love with his stupid little face so I drew more of it.

[heartfullofleeches]

ohhh ilove him. i love him somuch

[heartfullofleeches]

i plead the fifth

For Research…?

( MDNI, No Age in Bio DNI )

CW: blood, gore, horror, torture, murder, snuff, voyeurism, masturbation, extremely sadistic Darling, masochistic yan, not safe or sane but possibly consensual, um. Ask to tag if I missed anything bc I don’t know what else to say about this 😭

Inspired by @velours-lapin’s Slaughter Squad (Host 🤝 Dae-Hyun (watching snuff)), enabled by @heartfullofleeches

Blood.

Glorious, beautiful blood, spattered across the walls, across your face, dripping to the floor from your hands, running cold in the open air while Dae-hyun’s runs hot, pounding in his ears, rushing to the swell between his legs, bursting into his mouth as his lip splits between his teeth.

Dae-hyun shudders, fighting the urge to imagine how his clone must feel right now, but they both share the metallic taste of their own blood and Dae-hyun’s fists clench atop his desk, choking back the vile jealousy rising within. He should’ve put more sensors inside the clone, made sure that there would be sensory data to experience himself— although maybe the exquisite pain would be enough to kill and of itself, given the brutality of your onslaught—

There’s a moment of silence— near silence, the grainy background of the audio ever-crackling— Dae-hyun forces his eyes to refocus, to drink in every moment. You step closer and his own voice breaks through the screen in a pained cry. Dae-hyun curses, eyes flicking to another screen with a better view, just in time to see you press your thumb even deeper into the exposed muscle of his clone’s shoulder.

Dae-hyun curses under his breath, fumbling to free his cock from damp boxers and slacks, unwilling to turn his gaze from you for even a moment. You dig deeper, ever deeper, a smile creeping across your face. His clone wheezes, cries out weakly—

Pop.

The clone’s arm dangles, muscle and bone scarcely holding onto what intact skin remains, weighing it down. Your fingers follow the trail of blood down the clone’s arm, Dae-hyun’s arm, tangling your fingers with his and swinging his hand back and forth. His clone cries out weakly, and your smile sharpens to a snarl, abruptly tired of these games.

One more pull and his arm detaches entirely. You test the limb, its weight and joints, and then hit him across the face with it. Again, and again. Dae-hyun can’t help but to stroke himself in the rhythm of your strikes.

A strange sense of loss overcomes Dae-hyun when you finally come to a stop, and lean over to spit on his corpse. Not grief for the lost clone, that version of himself. Envy that he may never get to experience what he did again, or never get to experience it through the eyes of his other self. You’d mutilated him so badly, Dae-hyun may not be able to collect that sensory data... He’s about to tuck himself back into his pants, a little edge. Just like you to tease, isn’t it? Or is he teasing himself?

But you step over him, raising your face— he can feel your gaze through the camera, another smile spreading across your blood-streaked mouth—

“You’re next.”

You swing his arm hard enough to shatter the camera, and Dae-hyun spills across his fist, messing up his clothes and staining the underside of his desk.

“…fuck.”

[heartfullofleeches]

Would you take a request for Rotten milk?

yes PLEASE give me more requests for any of the milk cows, but yea i'd be more than happy for a request with Rot

[heartfullofleeches]

Recent follower here 👋 Just wondering if you write folklore yanderes? I've read a few of your eldritch and it made me wonder why I never see anyone talk about folklore creatures in terms of who can be an obsessed freak besides skinwalkers and the occasional wendigo and the rarity of Alraunes and Selkies.

I'm not criticizing I swear 😭, I'm genuinely curious.

Personally, for me - I prefer making my own cryptids/creatures because there are certain ones I'd rather not write something that may be offensive to the cultures they come from. For example, w***gos I dont think it'd be appropriate to use them. Stuff like selkies im okay with but i've seen from a lot of sources its offensive to use the aforementioned ones

[heartfullofleeches]

i like how root beer milk is always just Riley to me. I call majority of the other milk hybrids by their title rather than their actual name but i cant do the same with him

[heartfullofleeches]

Slasher/Creep Darling who always obscures their face by their hair, a mask or other means, but not for reasons one might think. Rather than hiding their identity, Darling has the biggest sad puppy/wet kitten eyes without even trying. One look into those eyes and any unease/fear towards them melts away. Things are worse off for Darling if they naturally have a voice that makes them sound like they're seconds away from bursting into tears.

-

[Slasher Darling wearing their mask apporches their victim, weapon raised-]

Victim: Ahh! It's the killer!

[Slasher Darling apporches their victim without their mask]

Victim Yan: Awww, look at you! What are you doing waving that axe around, Sweetheart- Somebody might get hurt. :( What do you need? Some money? A place to stay? I'll give you both-

-

Creep Darling: Are you going to kill me now?

Slasher Yan: Don't cry, Love- I'll make it quick.

Creep Darling: I'm not crying. This is just the natural tone of my voice. I suppose you would like to watch the life drain from my eyes too.

Slasher Yan: Wouldn't be opposed to it-

[Creep Darling pulls a headband from their backpack - big, beautiful eyes glossy and meek in the moonlight as they push their hair back]

Slasher Yan: ....

Creep Darling: Well? I'm waiting.

-

Slasher Yan, head in their hands as they stare blankly at the floor: It was like trying to bludgeon a baby seal-

Creep Darling, locked up in the slasher's bedroom - wrapped in a warm blanket, sitting in front of a plate of fresh food: .... Am I still going to die?

[heartfullofleeches]

counting down the days until autumn is in full swing so i can bring back Spice Milk (and Screamsicle once october rolls around)

[heartfullofleeches]

Yan Cowboy Cow Hybrid + Criminal Farmer Reader

[Suggestive, Male Lactation, Reader briefly mentioned to be shorter than Yan]

-

" Little clumsy with those hands are we, Farmer?"

The plan was foolproof.

Fleeing into the night, cloaked beneath the blanket of darkness and the winding, twisting paths of the forest - refuge from the heat on your tail following your latest heist shown its face in the form of an abandoned farm house.

As if your luck couldn't get better, though deserted and left to decay, the farm was well stock with equipment you could potentially use in a hitch. Armed with the scrapes of knowledge from your time as a runaway farm hand in your youth, you would play the part of the new Farmer in town. By the time anyone became suspicious, you'd find an place deeper in the hearts of the rural countryside to live out the rest of your days with your riches-

Where did it all go wrong?

"Forgive me, it's been a while since I've milked a cow.. Can't say I've milked out with your um... stature before at that."

Fingers slick with cream, you awkwardly cup the man's swollen chest in your hands - kneading at his flesh as one would with a stubborn knot in another's spine. Your squeezes produce so much as a dripple from his puffy nipples - the low drone of a moan rolling from his tongue as your callused fingertips swivel around the tender areas.

At least you're doing one thing right. How could you have known your new neighbors would be hybrids. Cow hybrids at that. Ones who's ears perked up at your not so humble brag of working on a dairy farm as a teen. One cow in particular was quite pleased with this development. A real smooth talker he was. A living, breathing character straight from western films of old.

He had eyes on you the minute you walked into town- Lured by the scars of your past, hooked by the tales you spun with the tiniest sprinkles of the truth between each lie. A tough cookie like you was right up his alley. When he heard mention of you being a farmer, it took all of him not to drop knee and propose to you on the spot. He'd always had trouble performing the customs that came naturally with his biology. What better way to break the ice with the cute farmer who's become a persistent plague on his mind than to seek their aid?

Call yourself a fool, but how could you say no to those sad, sheepish eyes of a man who struck a crick in your neck every time you made eye contact. Giants- all of them.

You're in over your head. If you can't do this simple task, he'll figure you out for sure. If you escape now, the authorities will be on your heels before you can skip to the next town over. You can't let that happen.

Wetting your lips, you sweep the sweaty, stray locks of your hair out of your face as you lean in - circling your mouth about his pillowy chest.

"Whoa now!"

Riley jolts as your tongue makes contact, twirling around his nip as you suck - hands still at play massaging his chest. His tail wacks against your thigh, hands pawing at the leather of your couch for dear life. He draws air through his teeth, a shuttering gasp pulled from him as your cheeks hollow - mouth filling with rich, creamy milk.

"Can't say I'm too familiar with this method of milking-" His hat falls over his face, ears twitching as a dark flush paints his cheeks. "Not that I'm complaining or nothin'"

A ting of spice spliced with vanilla and earthy undertones. You didn't know what to expect diving in, but you're pleasantly surprised with the outcome of your choices. Your lips buzz with a content hum - the bucking of his hips nearly hurling you both of the couch.

A hand cradles the back of your head, keeping you steady as his body rumbles with a laugh.

"Sorry 'bout that- Promise I'm not usually this sensitive, but around you, it's hard to act like my usual self at all."

Warmth trickles down your chin as you upright yourself in his lap; pausing to take in his disheveled state. Skin glistening with sweat, messy hair glued to his flush face. Those eyes, pools of desperation and yearning. With your occupation, you can't say you're too familiar with people looking at you in that way.

"Say, Farmer- If you ever need another place to hide, my doors always open for ya."

His fingers line the goosebumps branding your skin as his hand brushing you arms, drawing small hearts into your skin.

You swallow, his taste fresh and aromatic on your tongue. "How did you-"

"You stick out like a sore thumb in this town, Farmer. Part of the reason I feel for ya to begin with. Did some digging and I hear there was a reward for information on your whereabouts, but I think whatever we could be together is priceless in comparison."

Fingers interlocking with yours, Riley kisses your knuckles - tongue cleaning your skin of his fluids. As he pulls your thumb into his mouth, he guides your unoccupied hand to his neglected breast - cupping it around as he gazes up at you for answer.

"Well? What's it gonna be?"

[heartfullofleeches]

Is roach boy immune to nuclear blasts like actual roaches? Just curious and totally not thinking of possible angst in a nuclear war

For the most part. It'd still affect him to some degree since roaches aren't totally immune to radiation, but he definitely has a higher chance of survival than majority of hybrids or humans. Where you see angst I see a perfect match for Doomsday Prepper Darling.

Darling coming to the haunting realization they'ol never be free from their stalker if their worse fears become reality.

"Won't it be so romantic, Puddin' ? With your little bunker and my tough skin we'll be the last ones in town- Maybe even the world. Wouldn't that be great?!"

Darling - writing in their notebook: "Add another lock to bunker"

[heartfullofleeches]

I wanna see roach femboy...

Here he is

His name is Ambrose/Rosy for short. Incredibly high maintenance and hates filth so much he'd probably freak out if he saw his distant cousins (real roaches). Will refuse to wear anything that isn't pink or sparkly, and if push comes to shove he will either strangle, poison or straight out hire someone to kill a rival because he doesn't want blood all over his pretty clothes.

[heartfullofleeches]

excuse me ROACH femboy?

i wanted to pick a bug/animal thats typically seen as gross/disgusting and turn it into a cute, high maintenance boy and roach was the first thing that came to mind. Like a reverse Adonis though they're both pretty.

[heartfullofleeches]

wanna see the roach femboy i made. this isnt really a question im not giving you a choice

[heartfullofleeches]

Immortal Yan Drabble

[Warnings/Tags: Mentions of Strangulation (Yan), Masochistic Yan + a tiny hint of sadistic Yan if you squint, Freaky times gone right wrong, Vulgar Language]

-

Running water.

It bubbles in his ears- a cool cloth dabbing the sweat of his brows. Head uplifted by solid porcelain, his neck screams in protest as he turns - tension behind his eyes rendering the blurry shape hunched over him to dark dots in his vision. The skin around his neck is taut - a phantom grip without trace beyond the redness of his flesh and the cresent kiss of nail marks.

With every breath he feels them fading- Peachy hue bleeding through the ring abrasion, his skin smoothing; goosebumps left in wake as a cruel reminder of what he's lost. In a better world, a perfect world he'd wear the bruises as if they were a priceless necklace without fade.

As usual, his deepest desires are just out of arm's reach.

"Si?...'"

Dark spots stain your shirt, hair still dripping with wetness that came with tossing your boyfriend's lifeless body into the filling bathtub. You rushed to put it on as he fell limp against the headboard, your bare legs grated against the hard tile floor. You pull the hem of your shirt over your knees as he rises from the tub like a phoenix from its ashes.

"Are you ok-"

God damnit.

Tugging at his hair, Silas wails in anguish. - images of earlier events flashing in his head as he flails about. You on top of him- Both of your hands wrapped tightly around his throat, snuffing out the light flickering before his eyes as he neared the gates of nirvana. And then-

Darkness

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK! Why does this shitty, useless body have to conk out on me when stuff's getting good! I didn't even manage to get you off before I passed out, did I?! I'm a shit loser of a boyfriend!- I should just keel over for good!"

"Silas...You didn't just pass out."

Staring down at your hands, they trimble with horror - the crushing weight of your sins.

"You stopped breathing."

Hearing the quiver of your voice, Silas relinquishes himself from his lone man pity party - jumping into action as your head falls into your hands. His arms pull around you, hands rubbing tenderly behind your back and shoulder blades.

"Hey, hey- It's okay." He coos, parking kiss after kiss to your forehead. "You know a little breathplay won't keep me down for good. Hell, at this point I don't think there's anything that can. I'm okay, I'm here. It's alright, baby."

"I know... I know...." You repeat, more to yourself than him. "It's just... Seeing you like that. You were so limp, and you wouldn't respond to anything I was saying. I placed my head on you chest and I didn't hear a thing. I was so scared... Scared that I actually hurt you."

Choking the daylights out of him. Carving your initials into his flesh. Burning him with hot, blistering wax.

Nothing had Silas more aroused than the genuine compassion and concern you showed for him outside of the sick, sadomasochistic bedroom activities he roped you into. He needed not physical pain from you. The tears in your eyes as you sobbed over the memory of his limp body was enough and tenfold.

Having a partner who truly loves you is the best feeling in the world. He wouldn't trade this rush for anything.

"you're so pretty when you cry."

Pealing away from you, Silas clears his throat - scratching at what remains of your mark on his neck.

"So- Might be a bad time, buuuuut my dick is probably hard enough to cut diamonds right now. You up for a round two or should I take care of this myself?.... Y'know what- you've had a long night. Go rest up and once I'm done I'll spend the rest of tonight and tomorrow spoiling you. Sound good, baby?"

[heartfullofleeches]

Stoner Catboy Darling with the Werewolf Frat- Catboy Darling who regularly attends parties held by the wolves just to pass out on their couch because its softer than the bed at their dorm (all beds/couches feel that way to them). All they need is a collar and they'll be right at home amongst the pack. No party is complete without petting Darling or waiting for them to make their rounds rubbing up against them as a token of their gratitude for housing them.

So many of the wolves start rubbing catnip oil into their jackets and around their bedrooms Catboy Darling can't walk within a mile of the Frat house without getting a contact high.

-

Catboy Darling, rubbing their cheek against a wolf's arm: Thanks for letting me hitch a ride with you over here.

Werewolf Yan, whispering to themselves: I've been chosen.

-

Wolf #1: Yo, dude. Check out my new cologne-

Wolf #2: ugh- Is that catnip?!

Wolf #1: Yup. Guess who I woke up cuddled next to this morning-

Wolf #2: .. Well, don't hog it all for yourself!

-

Stoner Catboy Darling: You know what would be funny? A contest to see which one of you guys has the softest bed. Guess I'll start with this one-

[Catboy Darling lays down and almost instantly fall asleep]

Werewolf Yan: Obviously that means my bed is the best so I don't think we have to worry about you guys'