#ROS hybrid

[wuzhere75]

New character for ROS. Her bio isn’t finished yet, so she’s not official, but I am still proud to introduce ya’ll to Polar Vortex

[nexahexagon]

tr!Sneeg and tr!Ros fic, exploring the idea of them both being Moth and Butterfly hybrids, respectively. Specifically, that moths squeak as a warning to predators.

Ever since Ros was turned into a butterfly at the Snail Race, she had a much larger connection with Sneeg. It wasn't a lot, but it was more than they had before. 

At first, it was awkward. He was hesitant to assist her in tasks involving her wings, giving her the space to ask him herself. It was a long process of small and gentle corrections over the span of a week until she could comfortably tuck her wings under her cape. 

She quickly realized why Sneeg hid his antennae under his hood, as well. While she was a great deal shorter than him, she still would occasionally smack them on door frames and low-hanging branches, making them sting for minutes after. She could only imagine how many times Sneeg would have hit his on objects before he conceded to a hood. 

And there was also the very beginning of her transformation, where he warned her of the fragility of her scales. It shocked her to find out that Butterfly wings were just a ton of tiny scales. But he warned her that, if they weren’t covered, her wings could rip easily. 

Foolish had made her a cape after hearing so, one that matched the banners of the kingdom. It was silk on the inside, and a velvety feel on the outside. Apparently, he’d gotten the material recommendation from Sneeg, who’s hooded cape was the same. 

And above all that, Ros became more attuned to Sneeg’s squeaks. She hadn’t heard it before, or it was too quiet for her to catch. But now it was as loud as a snap of her fingers- and as quick as one too. 

The first time she heard it was when she was sitting in the castle’s kitchen, making food just before bed. Sneeg had shown up an hour earlier, talking about needing more materials for arrows. Normal, mundane things. Nothing special. 

He asked if she had any feathers, and she directed him to the storage chests just above the kitchen. She tailed him as he went to check, enjoying spending time with someone from the kingdom. He had gone through five barrels when a light squeak startled her. 

“Did you hear that?” She asked. She had been in a daze, it being so late. She was nodding off already before she’d heard the noise, and wasn’t sure if it was in her head or not. And not only was it a noise, but it was like a physical vibration. Like the noise had traveled down her spine for a split second. 

“Hear what?” Sneeg closed the barrel he had searched, his eyes cutting across to the staircase, then the windows. They narrowed suspiciously, and his hands immediately fell to his sides, ready to conjure his weapons if needed. 

Two more squeaks filled the room after his words, in quick succession of each other. It was very unnerving, and shook her breathing. Chills chased after the vibrations, making her shudder. 

“That! You don’t hear that? The high buzz noise?” She, in response to Sneeg’s suspicion, pulled out her spear and turned her back to him defensively. She felt, surprisingly, threatened.

They stood in silence for a few seconds, Ros trying very hard to listen for the noise again. She felt a little silly, getting so worked up over a small squeak. But it felt like a strange warning. She heard it one more time. Behind her. 

She turned to Sneeg, who held a sheepish grin. 

“It’s. God, I forgot you can hear that now.” He reached up and pulled the hood off of his head, his antennae sticking upwards. It felt as though she was able to properly listen to him now, as if she wasn't able to before. His voice held a crisp that she found unfamiliar, the sound of his voice rattling like crystal marbles in her head.

“It’s a moth thing. It’s. It’s supposed to “scare” enemies, or make you nervous, or something.” He shrugged, seemingly embarrassed having to explain this. “I do it when I’m frustrated. Humans don’t hear it very well, and they aren’t affected by it. I think Demons hear it, Bad might have reacted to it once. Um.” 

He, through the explanation, was scanning the barrels intensely. Not seeing if they held what he needed, but rather was avoiding looking directly at her. 

“I don’t think butterflies make the same noise? Might be why you got jumpy.” His eyes landed on the barrel he last checked, and he continued his search. 

They sat in silence for a few seconds, the only sound being Sneeg’s rummaging through the barrels. 

“You don’t have to stop just because it scared me.” Ros rested a hand on Sneeg’s arm to get his attention. She found it interesting. Something new that brought them closer.

“I’m not gonna do it if it’s not necessary, Ros.” He grumbled, and Ros delighted in this clear communication. Even with him mumbling under his breath, nearing a whisper, she still felt his words dance through the air and shake her antennae. He was practically speaking directly into her ear.

She found herself wishing he would keep the hood down more often. There were very few things bridging their connection to each other. She thought Clown was an important part of that, and with him gone she would gladly grasp at straws to keep whatever was holding her and Sneeg together strong.

And in truth, finding out that the large, scary, ominous, high-powered smith would squeak when he was scared or frustrated? Well. 

She found it endearing.

“What?” Sneeg turned to her, an incredulous, baffled grin on his face. Ros’s face flushed hot from embarrassment. 

“Not like-! I mean, I just never expected something so. So,, you know? From you!” She sputtered in defence. She hadn’t meant to say that last part of her thoughts aloud, and was deeply mortified. To call her very scary and intimidating friend endearing? She wished her reset would come sooner.

But Sneeg simply laughed and reached a hand to tousle her hair. She let out a surprised laugh herself and ducked away. And although a small gesture, she noticed how naturally and easily he avoided roughing up her antennae. She briefly wondered if anyone else would have taken that into account.

“Whatever,” he groaned dramatically, “just keep this squeaky business between the two of us, alright?” There was a playful threat in there that eased Ros’s embarrassment slightly.

“You got it!” 

He closed the barrel he was rummaging through and turned only to pat her on the shoulder. He began setting off downstairs and to his room.

“I’m headed back to my island, let me know if you need anything.” He called over his shoulder. She said her goodbye’s as he descended the stairs and began making her way to her room.

“Ow!” Sneeg’s exclamation shook through her head and a phantom stab of pain lanced just behind her eyes. She tenderly reached for her antennae. He must have forgotten to put his hood back on.

She made a mental note to raise the height of all of the doors in the castle.

[ravencromwell]

Ros Vortalis trans headcanons

There are some remarkable trans Holland fics and headcanons, but can we talk about Ros Vortalis, whom all of his friends simply call Vor? Who, even when he’s _dying Holland calls Vor, to be expected, but also Vortalis which’s so much longer than Ros.

A bit of googling informs me Ros is “protector” in German, which’s chef’s kiss one hundred/ten no notes V.E. But it’s also, more frequently, a diminutive of Rosalind. Disclaimer before I start these that I respect and love! the headcanons of Makt as fairly gender nonrestrictive, with power being more of a defining factor of treatment. My Makt, however, is more complicated, with gender and gender transitions being imperfect but still a site where joy can be created, much like the rest of White London existence. Putting the rest of these beneath a cut with that in mind because as a trans person, I know some days I can’t handle transness as careful complication to be navigated and don’t want to inflict it on anyone unprepared. (Though, I promise! there’re fluffy as fuck nsfw Vor/Holland and Vor/friends headcanons in here to cut the angst.)

Ros retains a shortened form of his given namefor business purposes within the Shal—we know Shal means “market” in Red London, and I tend to think it means the same in White, such that when Holland calls him a “thug from the Shal” he’s referring to Vor being in the merchant/smuggling business. When he transitions, he’s relatively young and honestly to flagrantly demand a name change would be seen by too many as blood in the water. His greatest focus, always, is Makt rather than his personal happiness and he’d rather be burdened with the “nickname” Ros and be capable of rising in the Shal in service of becoming king.

There’re two ways of transitioning: the easiest and least painful is utilizing a spell similar to Astrid’s with Lila and stealing a face and voice. But that spell fades with death and though Vor understands that his body is likely destined for desecration once he’s gone as Makt’s people drain its blood and magic, there’s still this stubborn demand that they destroy a body without the face that made him shudder every time his child self caught a glimpse (he is so grateful for a lack of mirrors in Makt for much of his young adulthood.)

So he chooses the harder, excruciating method: finds a bone magician to permanently reshape his body. Session after session, over months traveling abroad on a ship with only the open sea and crew to hear him scream himself hoarse.

The first time they share a bed, Holland strokes along the broadened shoulders, runs fingers along the scars on his chest—eyes fixed on Vor’s all the while— and murmurs: “If they did not believe you would hold the throne, they were fools.”

“I’m flattered.” He’s bright-eyed, with that deep, rolling-sea laugh.

“After this, very little would stop you.” Fools have marveled at the extent of spells across his body, and inwardly he howls in hysterical laughter because there is very little to dull pain in Makt, and the shipboard pain was so vast it made everything else feel like pinpricks by comparison. He’s never bedded someone who would know that as intimately as the man who had done his damndest to use that same magic in stopping Vor’s fist before it connected with his face, and the admiration uncoils something deep in his chest. “Sometimes I’m certain I can’t keep it. One moment it will be there and then not.” He manages a farse of a smile “Foolish, after all these decades, but such is the weakness of your future king, Holland.”

“Lucky you would have an Antari to put it back, then.”

By the time he returned to London, voice rumbling deep from an expanded chest, people understood quickly to use “Ros” with the proper pronouns or see just how effective the runes on his hands were. But well…Ros is an easier shirt than Rosalind to slip into, but it will never sit comfortably. As he develops allies, he finds that Vor and Vortalis fit easier. And it becomes a good gauge for trust. Those who understand implicitly how painful his given name is and respect that, are people worth keeping. It becomes easier, as fewer and fewer people survive who remember Rosalind.

There are far too many moments to count when former friends or lovers try to use “Ros” as a weapon, with a little smirk that says: “You never said we _couldn’t call you that.” And he’s deeply glad he made a relatively small name fuss and provided only a small chink in his armor. (Those sorts of people tend, inevitably, to cause the use of his knives. As though letting them close and showing kindness is an invitation for open season. But such are the risks in Makt, and he is a man who craves touch and closeness. What good to craft the ideal body only to never have it appreciated. The way Holland simply…withdrew from people after Talya is something almost unfathomable. Whether they’re the closest of friends or both king and night and! king and beloved—which’s pretty much always in my head—there’s a deep, profound ache that he could never touch Holland enough to make up for too many years alone.

It’s the dimmest flicker every time he sees the “knight” and “Antari” masks slip, when Holland leans against his shoulder or puts his head in Vor’s lap, eyes half-closing at fingers in his hair. But, simply because the task is nigh on impossible, doesn’t mean he won’t do his best. Vor touches Holland Vosijk a hundred thousand times in those two years of rule—and so, so many more if they both survive—and is so very, very grateful he could take the touches the best of his lovers and allies offered over the last thirty years. (On a slashy front, can we also just talk about how, as a couple, there’s an incomparable way arousal and awe intertwine for Vor _every time Holland reaches out and shows affection: a kiss against his temple as Vor lets their foreheads rest together; a hand moving slow and easy down his back. To be trusted enough for the most guarded man he’s ever met—it took Vor _months to convince him to kill Gorst and he’s never had to work so hard or wanted so desperately for someone to say yes in his life—to touch him is such a valuable thing that he has immense responsibility not to break.)

Also in couple’s verse: If Vor has a small regret, it’s that the bone magicians are far more skilled with outward, above-the-waist presentation—because the best of them have not only done this for trans people, but for criminals etc. seeking a disguise. Thankfully, they had no trouble cutting him open to ensure he would never be with child—he doesn’t have the vocabulary for dysphoria, but the idea of his stomach rounded and heavy is one of the few things that can make him viciously soul-deep terrified. But the below the waist equipment well, it’s not a magic Makt has the luxury of learning.

By the time he meets Holland, it’s the very faintest of regrets: he has a collection of strap-ons for when he and a lover want to indulge in that particular fantasy—and is comfortable enough in his skin it’s an indulgence and not a requirement. It’s beautiful to watch lovers slide to their knees and take them in their hands or mouths or slide inside and watch them arch with pleasure. But oh, oh he wishes he could _feel it. It’s not a complaint worth voicing, and honestly after he becomes king, there’s very little time to indulge.

But one day, Holland comes back, smelling of flowers holding a box, tells the guards to wait at the end of the hall because he has crucial business from “the other London” for the king’s ears alone, which has Vor intrigued and concerned because he hasn’t come close to asking Holand to send a message. But before the concern can swell to anything beyond a flicker, he sees a flush so faint anyone would miss it who wasn’t watching. (Even before the Danes, Holland held his feelings and desires in an iron grip; Vor learned early in sharing a bed that Holland loathed the idea of being heard by those not his lovers when losing control: not merely a discomfort that could add spice to an evening, but viscerally, the way it would take everything Vor had to turn his back on an armed opponent.) This is pleasure, not business and he flicks his fingers in a silent command before they can even turn to look.

"Go get yourselves some dinner,“ he says for good measure, "If there is a foe Holland cannot protect me from, there’s little more bodies can do.”

When he opens the box…there are the usual straps but the cock. The cock feels like _skin. “The Arnesians-” and oh, there’s still so much contempt in those words “With their infinite supply of magic have learned to transmute. From earth to bone, and then something softer. There is an illusion for the Arnesians who want to forget the straps.” There were layers upon layers beneath that statement: neither of them wished, at least then, to go begging for scraps, but to _take a little of the bounty Arnes had hoarded,

“_Yes!”

Neither of them know how the illusion works: it is as mysterious as the fireworks Holland has seen that fool his eyes into certainty dragons fly across the unbearably vivid Arnesian sky. It does not matter; in those moments when Holland’s mouth is hot on skin, Vor is utterly, entirely certain Holland is swallowing down the cock he has always had.

It’s almost too much, leaves him speechless for the first time in decades, has Holland scrambling up and onto the bed even as his eyes are still glassy from watching the king come undone to wrap himself around Vor’s back until the world comes into focus again. “Is it only good once or-” he asks, finally and Holland’s smirk is wicked.

When he’s upending the Ost table and coughing up blood—, so much, too much kajt I hope Holland can take the throne because whoever these bastards are they can’t rule, the thing he clings to: more than “Stay with me"—though he _tries—, more than the raw panic in Holland _swearing—is the name. _Vortalis, he says when the table overturns—though it would be such a forgivable mistake to use Ros. Vor, he says while chanting stay and one of his blood spells. He will die as who he made himself, not as he was born.

The three threads of coherence for Holland are the blood spell. That Vor _has to stay. And that if he cannot be enough to stop this, he _will not let Vor die hearing him use the wrong name.

In verses where Vor lives, they both know the "thank you” when he wakes is not for the healing, though to be alive is a joy.

[laurzvahll]

uhnmm i wanted to do some ososan + sweet tooth crossover doodles but since all the brothers have to be the same animal idk which to pick…

[philtatosbuck]

mikaelson stans are deeply unserious but the worst kinds are the klaro klaus stans, the “klaus is a big meanie” elijah stans and the “kol is so mistreated” kol stans

[if-loki-was-a-fox]

Need to draw moth!mumbo,, but not home rn :')

[gracegrove]

Just in case anyone else wants to know which Ed(d(y)) they are....

[planet-dusk]

☆ making bad decisions for you ∘ b.c

chan fucked up, and now he's left to deal with the consequences. how does one find someone to help their sweet pup through her heat on such short notice? the first step: call jisung. the second step: stay on the straight path. he has this under control. at least that's what chan thinks, until you throw him a curve...

─── ☆ pairing: bang chan x fem!reader

─── ☆ length: 2.3k

─── ☆ warnings: puppy hybrid!reader, sub!reader, perv!chan, big dick chan, pillow humping, corruption, bondage, unprotected sex, breeding (like a lot), dirty talk, praise, pet names: baby, pup, puppy

─── ☆ note: 18+ minors dni. the characters don’t represent real idols; this is fiction for entertainment purposes only. fictional smut is not a reflection of real life ! always communicate with your partner and practice consensual and safe sex ‹33

© planet-dusk do not copy, translate or repost my works.

Chan’s in over his head.

He knew this day would come. He should’ve been prepared. But he’s been so busy lately, and he didn’t keep track of your cycle — fuck, if only he could physically beat himself up for being the world’s shittiest owner. 

And of course he can’t find the informational flyers anywhere, and he doesn’t trust the internet, the advice varying so wildly he isn’t sure what to believe. He could call the shelter, but he doesn’t want them to find out he messed up. What if they take you away from him? 

So he calls the only experienced person he can think of: Jisung. 

“I really don’t know what to do, Han, fuck! Please help…”

“Take a deep breath, it’ll be alright. It’s not your fault there’s a suppressant shortage. You sure you don’t want to…?” 

“I can’t, it’s… it’s wrong,” Chan feels the panic rising in his chest again. He takes another gulp of air to calm his shaky nerves. 

“Fine, okay, it was just a suggestion! No need to yell at me, lemme look into it. I'll find a stud for her and come over as soon as my shift’s done, okay? You try to stay calm in the meantime and do exactly as I've told you to. Can you do that?”

“I’m sorry, it’s - I’m a mess, I should’ve seen it coming, but thank you, Ji. Thank you. I owe you one.”

“No worries, bro. Good luck. Call me if you need any help.”

The call disconnects and Chan is left standing alone in the empty bathroom, his heart galloping in his chest. He failed you. But he needs to be there for you now. He's not proud of what he’s about to do, but you’ll understand. He has no other choice. When this is all over you’ll understand. Please, you have to…

“Please forgive me, Y/N,” he whispers and unlocks the door.

As soon as he steps out of the bathroom Chan’s thrown off balance by your body slamming into his. “Channie, sir, please,” you whimper, pressing yourself tighter against his side and wrapping your arms around his neck. Chan feels a blush rise to his cheeks and turns his head away, swallowing harshly. 

“Let’s go to your bedroom, pup.” 

You yelp excitedly and dart off, throwing yourself on the bed. Your tail wags against the sheets and Chan can’t help but smile. When he was a little kid he always thought he’d get a wolfdog hybrid, or a big husky, but then he saw you at the shelter: a little cream coloured mutt with soft ears and a fluffy tail, and he knew he had to bring you home. 

You’re watching him rummage through his nightstand, head cocked and ears pointed. “‘t hurts, Channie, please hurry,” you roll on your back and stay there, skirt sliding down your thighs and almost exposing your panties. Chan coughs. 

“I know, baby, Channie’s here to make it all better,” he mumbles and fishes a pair of padded handcuffs out of the drawer. “Just give me your hands, okay?”

You give him a puzzled look but comply, letting him attach the cuffs to the headboard. “I'm so sorry, puppy, I'm sorry,” he whispers, avoiding your eyes. 

Then he turns around and hurries out of the room, closing the door behind him with a soft but resolute thud. 

Your frustrated howls are loud enough to reach the living room and he flinches. Every noise you make pierces his soul and adds to the pool of guilt in his gut. He had to do it, Jisung told him so — keep her safe, tie her up somewhere, otherwise she might hurt herself. It’s for her best interest. 

Chan knows, but why does it hurt him so much? He checks his phone, looking for a distraction. Two hours left until Jisung’s shift is done. Surely he can find a stud before the end of the day, right? Jisung knows so many people. He said everything would be fine. Chan just has to relax and trust him.

He takes another deep breath and turns on the tv, mindlessly going through the channels. He checks his phone again. 5 minutes have passed. Time’s never felt this slow. 

Eventually he settles on a documentary about tiger hybrids. He almost succeeds in focusing on the (terrible but entertaining) storyline when he notices your howls have changed into softer, breathier sounds. They almost sound like… moans? Chan thinks. He feels his cock stir. He shifts on the couch and stares at the tv, but the screen is a blur and he doesn’t hear a word the voiceover says. 

The noises continue and Chan grows more restless. How…? He looks at his phone again. 90 minutes left. 

With growing curiosity, Chan’s feet lead him to your bedroom almost involuntarily. Your noises have grown softer, little moans and whimpers drifting through the door. With a quiet click he opens it and peeks his head around.

You’re sitting on the bed, awkwardly positioned with your hands still chained to the headboard. Somehow you’ve managed to maneuver one of the pillows between your spread knees. You’re grinding down on it, fluffy tail causing your skirt to ride up. From his position in the doorframe Chan catches a glimpse of your white panties hugging your ass. 

The noises you’re making range from whiny to plain frustrated, the friction not enough to satisfy you. When you bend over to try and find a better position, Chan sucks in a breath, cock swelling at the sight of your soaked panties. You’re so wet the gusset has become almost see through, clinging to the outline of your pussy. 

Chan shouldn’t be here. He should leave before you notice him, before it’s too late. He should go back to the living room, put on his headphones and wait for Jisung to arrive. Let him sort it out. Get you a handsome dog hybrid to help you through your heat. 

“Chan?” your voice is soft, halting his train of thought. “Please…” 

He’s not sure if it’s your broken plea or something else that compels him to move, but Chan steps into your room. Your tail starts to wag slowly and you drop to your elbows, presenting yourself to him. From this distance Chan can see the tantalizing curve where your thighs meet your ass, the spot he wants to lick and suck and tease…

“‘s okay, puppy, Channie’s here.” There’s still time to leave. But you’re looking back at him with your pretty eyes — how could he say no to his sweet pup? He wants to protect you. Keep you safe. Jisung and his stud be damned. 

“I’m so sorry I did this to you, Y/N. I panicked.”

His hand strokes your thigh and you sigh into his touch. “Don’t leave me again, Channie. Promise.”

Chan shakes his head. “It was a mistake, I promise, I’m here with you now pup. Let me help you.” 

You mewl when his fingers graze your clothed slit. “Sir, ‘s hurting, don’t make me wait any longer, need you to breed me now, please,” you trail off, grinding back against his hand. 

Normally Chan would take his time to explore your body, tease you until you’ve cum at least twice before he’d give you his cock. But he hears the urgency in your voice, your pained little whimpers as you tug at your restraints. 

And it’d be a lie to say he hasn’t fantasized about this before. Late at night in his own bedroom while he tried to muffle his moans, unsure of what your sensitive ears could pick up. 

Chan slides your panties down your thighs with shaky hands. Your pretty cunt’s all puffy and glossy with your slick and it drips down his fingers when he pushes two inside. 

Your reaction is instantaneous, a pleasant gasp as you arch your back for him. “Need more, need your cock, need it now,” you plead again. 

“You sure you can take it, puppy?”

Chan rolls his plush bottom lip between his teeth. He doesn’t want to hurt you. 

“‘Mmm don’t care, make it fit,” you pout and wag your tail for him, “Channie.”

He’ll never tire of hearing his name like this. A broken sound, filled with so much need it goes straight to his head. 

He chucks off his pants and his boxers, hard cock springing free and slapping against his abdomen. He slides the tip over your slit to wet it, holding your hips to keep you still. Then he sheathes himself in your dripping heat inch by inch, whispering soft praises into the air between you. 

“Just like that, puppy, don’t move. Gonna fill you up so good baby, let me take care of you.”

Chan knows he’s big, watches your pretty hole stretch to accommodate him. He groans at how wet and warm you feel. It’s even better than he imagined. When you shift forward on your knees he growls, “Where do you think you’re going, pup? I'm not even halfway in yet.”

He pushes in deeper, watches you arch your back even more. “Channie, so full,” you pant when he finally bottoms out, stilling for a moment to catch his breath. The sensation of your soft, velvety cunt around him is overwhelming all his senses. 

“Yeah? Is my puppy nice and full?”

“Wanted - wanted this for so long,” you say and his heart makes a little leap. He knows it’s just your heat-clouded mind talking, the hormones making you more susceptible to his presence. But there’s a small part of him that dares to hope you’re speaking the truth. 

“Yah - wanted my sir, my Channie,” you nod when he starts moving, holding tight onto the handcuff’s chain. He briefly considers removing them, but you don’t seem to mind being tied up like this, pushing back on his cock like the neediest little thing he’s ever seen.

My Channie.

“I want you too, Y/N,” he groans and you hum at the sound of your name. “Can’t stay away from you - my pretty baby… knew it from the day I brought you home.”

You’re moaning every time his hips meet yours, soft uh-uh-uh’s like music to his ears. Your pussy is gushing around his length, and Chan’s not sure how long he’s going to last if you keep clenching down on him like this.

“Fuck, puppy - you’re hugging my cock so tight,” he lands a playful smack on your ass, “want me to breed you that bad, huh? Want me to stuff you full with pups?”

He tilts your hips to reach even deeper, fat cock slamming into you with force. You’re slumping against the mattress and he hovers over your back to nip at your ear, eliciting another moan from you. The soft fur of your tail tickles his abs but Chan is too focused on the erratic pulsing of your walls around him. 

“Are you going to cum for me, baby? I can feel you’re close, just let go. I’ve got you. Channie’s got you. My good girl.”

You sob and he feels your release gush around him, fucking you through your high with renewed vigor. You’re a blabbering mess, unable to form words except for “Channie,” “please,” and “fuck.” 

“Did my puppy lose her tongue?” He grins. “Getting all dumb on my cock after one orgasm, and I haven’t even bred you yet, baby.”

“Please…need it,” you whisper into the sheets, “need you to cum inside, please, sir.”

Even with his weight pressing you into the bed you’re still angling your hips up more, and Chan buries his face into the crook of your neck. You smell so good, like vanilla and the heady scent of sex. “I always keep my promise, pup, I’m going to breed you so well you’ll feel it dripping out of you for the next three days.”

You turn your head just enough to catch his gaze, your eyes so glossy and fucked-out Chan loses all composure. He ruts into you one, two more times before ropes of thick cum paint your inner walls and tumble you headfirst into another orgasm. 

His thighs are shaking, your cunt milking him of every last drop until he’s a panting mess on top of you. For a moment the two of you lay still, breathing heavily, until Chan realizes you’re still chained to the bed. He pulls out and you mumble something when you feel his cum drip out of you, rubbing your thighs together. 

Chan unclasps the handcuffs and kisses your wrists, hugs you close and captures your lips with his own. They’re so soft, needy little sounds already escaping you again as you rut against his thigh. “Need more, Channie.” 

“Insatiable little thing,” he grins and traces your puffy cunt with his fingers. “Can’t get enough, can you?” 

He slips one finger in your sensitive hole just as the doorbell rings. You look up in surprise, eyes wide and ears darting in all directions. 

Chan kisses you again. “Ignore the bell, pup. I’m not going anywhere. Made a promise, remember? Need to breed you nice and round. Maybe make you beg a little more for it,” he chuckles, “let me see how needy you can really get.” 

You’re grinding down on his thigh now and Chan doesn’t care how long he has to stay here with you, he’ll give you whatever you want. He’ll spend days holed up inside your nest if he has to. 

You grab his shirt and pull him closer, and the blaring sound of his ringtone rips him out of his reverie. 

He rolls over with a groan and hits the green button, cutting off Jisung’s voice. “It’s already taken care of, Ji. Thank you.”

“Wha —? You sly dog!”

Chan throws his phone into a corner and rolls you onto your back, slotting himself between your thighs with a smile. “Don’t worry, pup. I won’t let anyone else touch you ever again.”

© planet-dusk do not copy, translate or repost my works.

[isacksteban]

OH MY GOD ELLE I SCREAMED

CATBOYS ISACKSTEBAN KISS KISS MWAH MWAH

^^ ISACKSTEBAN!!!

[mikachondria]

The Bats favourite barbie movies:

Dick - The Barbie Fairytopia series, entirely based on vibes. Forced each of his siblings to a marathon at least once. He's the biggest Bibble fan. One time his siblings gifted him a Bibble shower curtain and bathmat for his birthday as a joke but he uses both, because 1) he unironically loves it and 2) his siblings always get really exiting when they visit him and see, he hasn't changed them.

Jason - Barbie as the Princess and the Pauper, I will not elaborate. He's also a Princess and the Popstar hater because “They tried to rip off their own movie but somehow lost all the good parts in the process. Like yeah, give us two very privileged white girls in slightly different situations and compare it to the criticism of the social class differences in a monarchy.”

Yes, he gets defensive over it.

Tim - Barbie in the Nutcracker. One time when he was little, his parents couldn't come home on Christmas eve (I'm a Janet and Jack Drake slightly neglectful but still loving parents believer, they didn't forget him, their flight was just cancelled) so he searched up Christmas movies to watch alone. When his parents got home the next day they found him asleep on the sofa and the end credit scene frozen on the TV. They take him to see the real ballet a week later and after that, Barbie and the Nutcracker becomes a comfort movie for him. He thinks it's objectively not the best Barbie movie but the nostalgia just hits him every time he watches it. (When Cass got a role in the nutcracker ballet, he was so excited. She played a rat and loved the role)

Cass - Most people would probably think it would be a ballet related movie like Nutcracker, 12 Dancing Princesses or Swan Lake but it's actually Barbie as the Island Princess. She deeply relates to Ro growing up in isolation, struggling to adjust to society and speaking a language no one else understands, though Ro's story is much more lighthearted than her own. When Ro gets reunited with her mother, Cass cries every time because it reminds her of her own adoption and finally finding her place.

Duke - Barbie and the Diamond castle, again purely the vibes. He's convinced that Alexa and Liana are gay for each other and sees the guys as inconvenient plot devices (“They rode away from the princes on a literal rainbow bridge!”).

Also sometimes uses his powers to ride away on a rainbow bridge himself, just because he thinks it's funny. This is inspired by this post from @jello-jelly-coconut

Steph - Barbie in a Mermaid Tale. Partly vibes, partly because when she was younger, she sometimes wished to have a second life, a second home too just like Merliah, with a father who loved her and her mom instead of being absent/in jail.

She knows the lyrics and dance moves to Queen of the Waves by heart.

She also loves picking the illogical things in the movie apart (“The mermaids breathe underwater so they have to have gills, but they can also breath air, that means they are some mammal-fish hybrids which would make Merliah a hybrid of a hybrid”) but defends it with her life as soon as someone else criticises it because how dare they disrespect her favourite Barbie movie?

Damian - Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus. At first he refuses to watch any Barbie movies with his siblings at all, but agrees after weeks of them asking. He wants to watch something with a dragon but Barbie and Rapunzel is not available on any streaming platform at that time and they have to buy/borrow a physical copy so he settles for the next best thing, a pegasus. He has low expectations.

Then he sees Annika trying to adopt a polar bear cub in the first few minutes of the movie and immediately likes her.

He's hooked till the end and has to admit that he liked the movie.

He still refuses to watch other Barbie movies though, this time with the reason that they wouldn't be as good as Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus anyways so it would be a waste of time.

Barbara - Technically not a movie, but Barbie Life in the Dreamhouse. She always has a tab with the youtube playlist open and will watch episodes when patrol gets boring. One time she forgot to mute herself and got teased by the other batkids but then she started streaming the episodes for them on their phones during stakeouts and they shut up because they got invested. Bruce is not aware of this.

Barbara's favourite character is the closet.

Bruce - He's doesn't have a favourite Barbie movie (it's Barbie and the 12 Dancing Princesses)

Unfortunately I don't know enough about Kate, Luke, etc to assign them a movie but feel free to add to the list

[midnightsun-if]

DEMO — Chapter One: Part One [34K Words] — 11/12/23

FAQ || PINTEREST || SPOTIFY || DISCORD

Aurelian Academy, the pinnacle of evolution within the supernatural world; the first landmark to be erected after the Dark Ages— the time when supernatural races still lived within the shadows of the mortal world.

You’ve been prepared to go for your entire life— all one hundred years of it. Being the youngest child of a ruling vampire clan didn’t give you much choice in the matter. Going to Aurelian meant taking the next big step in your immortal life regardless.

Will you be able to prove yourself to your parents? To your siblings? Will you be able to uncover the mysteries that surround the ancient school?

Or will everything vanish as the midnight sun approaches?

Create your character. Customize your name, potential nickname, gender (male/female/non-binary), sexuality, appearance, and hobbies. (Note: The MC is a Vampire and is 100 Years Old.)

Choose from 3 Classes— Charmer, Shadow-Kin, or Warrior.

How does your character feel about humans? Are they simply ants that you don’t bother with? Potential allies? An intriguing conundrum?

Do you enjoy the modern world? Or do you miss the simplicity of the past?

Romance 1 of 8 potential romances.

Explore Aurelian Academy and uncover the secrets that litter the ancient halls. Just make sure you don’t miss class while doing so.

Koda Kingston — [He/Him] — Bear-Shifter — He’s a mass of muscle and warmth, eyes filled with good humor and overall joy. Might not have a lot going on upstairs, but he’s definitely got the spirit. [Male MCs Only]

Scarlett Voltaire — [She/Her] — Vampire — Cold as ice, ruthless to any that oppose her, with a flair of heated contempt at the people who annoy her, Scarlett is the middle child to the oldest ruling family within the vampiric race. [Female MCs Only]

Cyrus/Cyra Aurelia — [He/Him or She/Her] — Phoenix — Heir to the Eclipse Throne; they’re the eldest child of House Aurelia, Founders of Aurelian Academy. They’re the pinnacle of what an heir should be: dutiful, strong-willed, and loyal above all else.

Quinn Grant — [He/Him or She/Her] — Wolf-Shifter — An individual that’s been whispered about within the halls of your home; a prospected mate in the event that both your warring families wish to unite. Now that you’re meeting them, you may be able to see if that’ll ever become a reality.

Caden Randall — [He/Him or She/Her] — Phantom — Appearing on a random night five years before, they’re not exactly what someone comes to expect when thinking about a phantom: scared of their own shadow, fretful, and a complete neat freak. They’re tasked with ensuring your stay at Aurelian Academy goes smoothly.

Sloane Addams — [He/Him or She/Her] — Wolf-Shifter — A wolf-shifter without a pack, disgraced in the deepest way possible, they don’t seem to be that overjoyed at the prospect of attending Aurelian Academy, but that doesn’t mean they’re not set on proving themself and finding a pack once more.

Blake Herrera — [He/Him or She/Her] — Demon-Hybrid — Your best friend (and potential FWB). With a flirtatious air, a rebellious spirit, and an affinity at finding trouble, they’re a demon that takes a bit to get used to.

Reginald/Regina Presley — [He/Him or She/Her] — Human — A scholarship student to Aurelian Academy; the first of many that may be attending. With a thirst for knowledge, along with a devil-may-care attitude, they’ll try their best to fit in. Of course, that’s easier said than done. As they’re the first human to ever be admitted as a student.

PINTEREST (OTHER) || MALE ROS FCS || FEMALE ROS FC || FAMILY FCS || ROS SKIN TONES

[wuzhere75]

Drawing of Saintfallens Morse

[katescribblesabit]

wanted to draw them without the extra layers - i imagine once the day is coming to an end, and everyone is going to their bases for the evening they shed their outer layers. so armor, cloaks and work attire gets removed.

clowns still fully covered, I feel like he doesn't like showing himself off, so gloves, mask and boots stay on till he goes to sleep - guy is just clothes and a mask for me there is nothing under there lmaoo

over the day Sneeg hides his open chest cavity under his work apron. He had shown it to Aimsey first when it opened, and eventually the rest of the kingdom when they started questioning why he still wore his work attire at dinner. people outside the kingdom only know from ear or if Sneeg had shown them himself.

Ros just changes into a whole different outfit. she wears a full set of armor by day, she wants to relax :) when she came back from the null i think Ros just couldn't be bothered to get into her full set, and just put on the easier armor pieces, while staying in her more comfortable clothes while she recovered.

Oh, also made a non-sculk variant for Sneeg, and a butterfly design for Ros. (cus is wanted to give her pretty wings hehe)

i based the butterfly design after how i draw Sneeg to keep it somewhat consistent with hybrid traits :)

[cancerian-woman]

KlonnieWeek: Arranged Marriage

AN: If you’ve seen the movies Beastly or Penelope I’d think you’d love this piece. From a future fic!

Klonnie AU: Klaus curse is freed in the 90s but at a cost. Eighteen years later on Bonnie’s birthday. The Mikaelsons come to collect their brother’s bride.

“I still can’t believe you, Abigail!” Sheila scolded, not being able to bear the sight of her child as they walked up the mansion steps. “Bonnie, baby, we will fix this. Okay?” Sheila says, rubbing circles on Bonnie’s back.

“Mother,” Abby begged, wiping tears from her eyes. “When I went to defeat Mikael to protect Elena my body was so weak… I just needed something to take the edge off.”

“Every substance abuser says that,” Sheila rolled her eyes, face-palming. “Practicing other than your own is addictive! I knew, you were too obsessed with your herbal garden in your teens.”

Bonnie was tired of the excuses her mother made. No matter how Abby tried to soften her words, the story always sounded the same. Her mother wanted to help Miranda, and save Elena but doing so meant battling her own urges. Sure, Mikael had been defeated, but her mother couldn't resist getting involved in darker magic and making deals with the devil while under the influence. Elijah and his ancient herbs must've sounded like heaven to her addict mother in the nineties.

The Mikaelsons' family home was enormous, featuring freshly cut shrubs, pristine gardens, and a large fountain at the center of it all. Bonnie was convinced that their driveway wrapped around the entire house. The garage was equally massive. While the place exuded prestige, she could feel the magic pulsating within the grounds.

When the door opened, it revealed a cunning yet glamorous blonde vampire. She was poised, but her eyes had the coldness of a killer. Her smile appeared safe, yet it held a deadly undertone, reminding Bonnie of the parts of herself she kept hidden from others.

“Pleasure to meet Ayana’s descendants,” the young-vampire greeted, shaking hands. “And you may call me Bex. We will be in-laws.” Rebekah grinned, full of excitement.

Grams and Abby were not on good terms regarding the formalities. Although they politely greeted Rebekah, they quickly shifted to business matters. Bonnie attempted to silently wave at the vampire, but Grams firmly pushed her hand down. From Bonnie’s perspective, she might as well get used to her situation since a blood oath wasn’t something that could be easily broken.

“How can this blood-oath be broken?” Sheila asked, folding her arms. “My granddaughter cannot marry your brother.”

“I do formally apologize, Ms. Bennett,” another vampire emerges from downstairs. Tall, muscular, clean- grey suit and expensive cologne too match. “You’re daughter, I see now free of her habits promised her child’s hand. It is not my fault she signed an oath under the influence.“

“I made a mistake!” Abby snapped, pursing her lips together. “I would like to offer myself to the hybrid.”

Bonnie gasped, turning her head so fast her honey-blonde hair smacked Grams in the face.

“Why would we offer you to our brother?” Rebekah questioned, circling the elder witch. “You think we have not tried countless witches before your daughter?” Rebekah laughed at Abby’s foolishness before turning sternly. “You did remain loyal to your child, you will treat our brother worse.”

Bonnie gently steps aside as a heated discussion between her family and the Mikaels emerges. All defined by loyalty and the burdens of a blood oath unfolds around her. She feels a pull in her heart, drawn towards the unknown man peacefully painting in the garden, where she hopes to find a moment of solace and understanding. There he was, her future husband.

“You’re not even going to greet me?” Bonnie questioned, shoving her hands into her pockets. “This marriage sucks already! Am I right?” she jokes, shrugging her shoulders.

The unnamed hybrid stepped away from the canvas, a poignant figure in disarray. His grey sleeves were rolled up, and splashes of orange, yellow, and red paint adorned his shirt, telling a story of struggle and passion. In that moment, Bonnie felt a deep understanding of why his family had forged a blood oath to help him. He was caught in a challenging transition, marked by his appearance—lycanthrope fur softly covered his arms and ears, and his nails were sharp and fierce, hinted at his inner turmoil. His blonde curly hair rested against his shoulders, and Bonnie noticed how fascinating his amber eyes were. Nothing like his brother and sister.

Needless to say Bonnie was intrigued. He was rather unique.

“My name is Klaus but I presume you were informed that you could heal me?” the hybrid asked, stepping toward the witch with an air of detachment. He couldn't help but grin at the sweet scent that lingered around her, from her hair to her skin. Being caught in mid-transition heightened his senses. ”Did my relatives mention the others? You are far too young for this.”

“Telling me stories about the women from your past won’t help our situation,” Bonnie says confidently, smacking her lips. “Do you think I wanted to be married off at eighteen? No! I barely got to celebrate my birthday, and this is impacting my college plans and my future! How dare you act so rudely right now!”

Klaus grinned at the young witch’s outburst. Her magic encircled them, and if she wasn’t in control, he was sure she would be choking him while laughing at his suffering. Nonetheless, the others were too terrified to look the beast in the eye. Bonnie stood up to him as if he were just anyone else in the world. She had fire and passion, and perhaps she was the key to ridding him of the wretched form he had been cursed with.

Bonnie was frustrated with her circumstances. She groaned at the thought of a marriage to a man who didn’t want her. Instead of engaging further, she decided to leave Klaus alone with his painting and whatever else he chose to do. However, Klaus quickly moved to stop her before she could get too far. He was grateful for his vampiric speed, which never failed him.

“I should not have spoken to you that way, Bonnie.” Klaus says, easing his hand against her face. He tucks a honey-blonde strand behind her ears. Shocked that Bonnie didn’t swat him away. The other women never allowed his hands to come near them. “If the curse is broken, we can divorce. You can live your life as you choose.”

“Really?” Bonnie questioned, with wide eyes. “You mean that?”

“Of course, we both get what we desire that way.” Klaus nods, admiring how Bonnie grinned for the first time since stepping foot in their home. “Would you like a blood-oath to honor this?”

Bonnie snorted, disagreeing immediately. “I never want to hear the words 'blood oath' again,“ she laughed a little too loudly and covered her mouth. “Can I sit out here with you? I don’t want to hear—“

Klaus patted the empty stool where his canvas was allowing Bonnie to stay. She was the first who wanted to stay near him.

“If it makes you feel better,” Klaus says, picking up his paint brush again. “I a product of my mother’s deception,”

“Klaus, how will that make me feel any better?”

“Oh, love, the story gets worst,”

“Alright, hybrid,” Bonnie says, folding her legs on to her lap. “Tell me about you then.”

“Only if you do the same, witch.” Klaus pauses, turning to gaze at Bonnie again. Her beauty was so ethereal, her bronze skin made her bright hair pop, her emerald eyes were marvelous, her grin and laughter was pure

Through Bonnie’s determinate and courageous act. She unknowingly gave him inspiration for his next painting as she told her story.

Maybe this arranged marriage wouldn't be the worst. This time around.

[desired-deity]

Lifesteal Headcanons!!!

a/n : so, I’ve gotten into Lifesteal if u all can’t tell, just got my hoodie today too! Wanna start asking for anything Lifesteal I’m totally up for it but if they do have boundaries to NOT request it. I’m not sure abt boundaries for any Lifesteal member so please don’t use that to ur advantage 😭 Anygays, I hope u all injoy 🤍 glad to be back

Mapicc, MinuteTech, and Jepexx are all demons. Mapicc and Jepexx are very warm while Minute is freezing

Flame, even though he’s called the Immortal DEMON I like to believe that he’s a blaze and loves the Nether

Jumper is 100% a hare, you cannot and will not change my mind. After all, in season 5, she had 1+ million jumps

Little lion boy, Mane, believes someone like him has no remorse for anyone or any humanity left in him but that gets thrown down the drain after Minute and Kab talk him out of that

I feel like Hannah has hanahaki but like- a non-deadly version of it? Idk if that one makes sense but just go along with it ig lol

Kab and Spoke has a strangely good sense of time while Ashswagg does not and relies on others, such as Squiddo to keep track of time

Flame and Clown don’t really go for the kill for a heart anymore, they really only do it for the adrenaline rush now. Mane is kinda the same but he just kinda picks and chooses his fights wisely

Planet is such an airhead that Spoke has to always be around so nothing stupid happens. Planet really only like- locks in when PvP is present

Subz can sleep everywhere but also hates sleeping because he always has that gut feeling someone is after him

Okay so actually I now headcanons Mapicc as a werewolf/dog hybrid because of all the fanart and ls!devotion duo

I’ve got this weird feeling Ro has the anatomy of a biblically accurate angel with tons of hands but only 3 main ones (idk if I cooked w this 1 or not)

Chief DESPISES candy that’s super sweet. He likes stuff such as clover and licorice

Ash’s glitches get so bad to the point to where he can pass out, it’s happened before right in from of The Empire and he face planted. Of course, he was fine though

When Kab gets really excited, she uncontrollably jumps up and down

Redd is a little liar but refuses to lie to Subz (idk if this is true or not bc I actually don’t watch red that much)

Clown refuses to kill Kab because of the stuff she’s had to go through, especially when he found out she got down to 7 hearts. He also looks out for her any way he can at all times

[theshadowslove-if]

The Shadows' Love

DEMO TBA | Description of the ROs

Synopsis:

Welcome to The Shadows' Love, a game full of magic and romance!

Step into the world of Iriecester which has no light, only shadows and darkness. Every being in the realm has a curse, a condition placed on them to balance out the magic flowing beneath their veins. And yet, they still have the joy of being alive, their realm thriving like never before.

Play as a Yonuthia (a shadow being) and pick whether you have advanced powers or basic powers and what curse you were born with. Enjoy the rich history of Iriecester and its culture, dance with the shadows and feel their kind touch.

Features:

Play as a man, woman, or a nonbinary person. Choose your appearance in terms of hair, height, body type, and more.

Choose what type of magic you have and your curse. Navigate the world with the curse at your heels and keep the curse sated (if you can sate it) to keep your powers.

Romance six characters and get cute and emotional snippets of their personalities with the choices you pick!

Experience the realm's culture by dancing with the shadows and eating native food. You can even visit the city where the non-humanoid beings live!

Possibly communicate with the omniscient void which provides you with the powers you enjoy?

This WIP is 18+ due to content such as: (optional) sex scenes, drowning, death, grief, bestiality, and more that will be added as the game goes on.

Romance Options:

>The King, Orinothicor (M):

Orinothicor has the burden of the entire realm of his shoulders, coronated as king as soon as he was birthed from The Neximor. He's terrifying and yet breathtaking at the same time, a man who does not relax—not even for his adult children. Can he relax or is he just meant to be a stern king?

>The Princess, Lerdadicor (F):

Lerdadicor is not only one of Orinothicor's children and princess of the realm, but she is also the general of the realm's army. She can be kind but also temperamental, easily switching to anger if she sees injustice, or if someone is just plain rude for no reason. There's a longing to her, a hole that was once filled but now is empty.

>The Monster of Iriecester, Sashithia (M):

Sashithia is the only Yonuthia hybrid to be born from a humanoid Yonuthia and a non-humanoid Yonuthia. For this reason, he is ostracized, vilified simply for the circumstances of his birth. But are appearances all that matter?

>The Thief, Aesalrith (M):

Aesalrith is the leader of the Dravivors, a band of convicted thieves who turned bounty hunters for the king in order to escape prison time. He is bold and he is loud, loving to test the limits of his king and those around him. Is he as carefree as he seems or is there something deeper under the surface?

>The Forgotten One, Bredadith (M):

Bredadith is the Hexiltor's bodyguard and he is the only Yonuthia to ever survive a dip in Iriecester's only source of water, the river Grithior. Circumstances of his life before the dip in the river are unknown and he seems to only live now to protect the Hexiltor, even with his blindness. Perhaps he can be shown how joyful life is when someone is finally looking at him.

>The Second-in-Command, Erakithia (F):

Erakithia is Aesalrith's right-hand woman and while she's a ray of sunshine in a realm full of darkness, she's more soft-spoken than her boss. She knows when to quiet down and let peace wash over her, a trait many like in her. There's a wistful presence to her, a faraway look in her eyes when she talks of her adventures.