#THE CAVE ENTRANCE IS BLOCKED OFF

[mimikinyuu]

STUCK

[obsessivevoidkitten]

The Manticore's Game

Kinktober Day 11: Paralytic Venom

Male Manticore Yandere x Gender Neutral Reader CW: Noncon, nonconsensual to consensual, venom, paralysis, non-human genitals, manticore, nibbling, licking, playful yandere, sweet yandere, general yandere behavior, he fucking purrs like a big house cat y'all, happy ending, kinda fluffy Word Count: 1k (I wrote this relatively quickly just today. I hope you all love it. Someone wanted me to write happier endings and yeah I do need a few sprinkled in a bit more often.)

There were reports of a mighty beast-like man devouring sheep from the flocks of the shepherds on the outskirts of the kingdom. It was in your jurisdiction, so you sent some lesser warriors to investigate and resolve the matter, but they had retreated in terror and refused to go back.

You were the head of the lesser noble house that oversaw the region and a skilled knight, and none of your subordinates were up to the task of defeating the monstrosity. So it seemed the task fell to you personally.

Bravely, you went on your own to the mountain village and tracked down the monster's lair. You found him at the entrance to his cave. He towered above you, fangs bared. You could see why the others had retreated. He was a rare and powerful creature, a manticore!

The beast had long shaggy hair that started black but ended in red, yellow eyes, fingertips with retractable claws, massive black and red wings, and a large scorpion tail.

Unlike the others, you fought through your fear and charged. You tried bashing him with your shield. But the manticore blocked the blow with his muscular arm before stabbing its tail into a chink in your armor.

You buckled instantly, falling to the ground like a chunk of lead. You couldn't move and were completely helpless as the monstrous man crouched beside you and removed your armor piece by piece. The last one that he removed was your helmet. After he removed it, you could smell the musk practically rolling off his crotch.

He wore no clothing, though he was covered in fur from the waist down. You were sure he was going to kill you, but instead, he stung you a second time, and you woke up hours later beside the village with no weapons or armor.

It was humiliating. Of course, you had to restore your honor. But you also weren't unfair. The next time you faced him, you used a blunted blade. He hadn't killed you, so you wouldn't kill him. Though you would imprison him as a livestock thief and make him work off his debts.

Once again, you ended up on the ground after the first sting. The beast stood over you and laughed before taking your belongings to taunt you. After that came the second sting, which sent you to sleep. Once more, you woke up outside the village.

It went on like this for months. It became the manticore's favorite game and your greatest embarrassment. He must have collected dozens of sets of armor as trophies.

Once more, you tried to best the beast, and once more, you wound up on the floor. This time was different, though. After removing your bothersome armor, he hauled you into a cotton and feather lined nest.

And, for the first time, the manticore spoke.

"Azin is in rut. Need mate. You're Azin's best friend! Always play games! You're all Azin thinks about. Will make the best mate."

He didn't stop at removing your armor. He took away all your clothing and didn't administer the second sting that would put you to sleep.

Azin purred loudly as he nuzzled his head against various parts of your body. He flipped you onto your back and licked and nibbled on your chest. His cock was hard, It stuck out large and proud from his sheath. It was also much muskier than normal, the strong smell alone made your crotch tingle.

You were a little scared but were more embarrassed than anything else. Maybe the venom had mellowed you out a bit, or maybe you just felt that comfortable with Azin after all the non-lethal combat the two of you had engaged in. If he wanted to hurt you, he would have.

His slimy cock craved the warm embrace of your hole, but even in rut Azin had the presence of mind to stretch you out first. Using gobs of precum as lube, he carefully tended to your entrance with several strong fingers.

Once you were good and prepped, he propped your legs up on his shoulders and then slipped his entire length into you with one fluid motion.

"Ahhhh," he sighed, "You take Azin so well~"

And he filled you so well. You would have been moaning, but all the paralytic he had envenomated you with would allow were soft gasps and whimpers. Azin licked and sucked your neck, your cute little sounds of pleasure spurring him on and into a frenzy. He pushed you into a mating press, his large furry nuts smacking into you as he bred you.

Nothing in your life had ever felt so good. No, not just good, but right. Having him pounding into you just felt right. Your paralyzed managed to shake slightly in orgasm just as he emptied his cum deeply into you.

"Azin loves you so so much! Going to breed you lots and keep you safe always!"

The two of you panted a bit before going several more rounds. When it was finally over, the venom had worn off. You cuddled up to him, his loud rhythmic purring helped lull you into the best sleep you ever had.

Of course, when you woke up, you'd have to do the only thing you could... take him back, marry him, and have him live with you in your little castle. There was really no other honorable option.

Azin's kind mated for life. It would be cruel to abandon him, and you had come to see him more and more as a friend rather than an enemy. You couldn't exactly just imprison him and make him work now.

Marrying him was honestly the perfect solution. With him at the castle, he wouldn't be stealing food. And just the fact that your house had a manticore would ensure safety from political rivals. It would be a great way for him to make up for his unlawful consumption of sheep. What assassin would dare trespass into the home of such a beast?

Sure, you'd be known far and wide as the monster fucking noble, but at least the dick was amazing!

[thelordofologies]

Chinese hourglass spider - 里氏盤腹蛛 - Cyclocosmia ricketti

The Chinese hourglass spider is a fascinating species of arachnid, a very rare one at that ! Between the years 2000 and 2016 ONLY six of these spiders have been spotted in China, that we know of.

@hispaatra, @zick-the-fairy more on the awesome seal :D

Description

Cyclocosmia ricketti has a very distinctive disk on its abdomen which resembles an ancient coin, a seal, or even a grinding disc. The male Cyclocosmia ricketti are about 20.5 millimetres in length while the females of the species tend to be slightly bigger at around 25.83 to 30.0 millimetres in length. The largest known specimens can exceed 30 millimetres. The disk located on its abdomen typically has a radius of around 16 millimetres.

Extract from 'Zhu, Zhang & Zhang, 2006 : Rare spiders of the genus Cyclocosmia (Arachnida: Araneae: Ctenizidae) from tropical and subtropical China.' Raffles Bulletin of Zoology, vol. 54, No. 1, p. 119-124

According to Zhao Li, Director and Senior Biological Engineer of the Insect Museum of West China in Chengdu, Sichuan, Cyclocosmia ricketti is a nocturnal animal.

Predation behaviour

Cyclocosmia ricketti, like many other trapdoor spiders, dig burrows which are closed off by hatches in the ground. They do this instead of making webs, as they are not good at spinning silk, to catch their prey. They line their burrows with silk threads and mud. They use their disk to plug the opening of the burrow. When a small insect would step on its disk, Cyclocosmia ricketti will then purportedly shrink its abdomen to allow its prey to fall further into its burrow to be devoured. The disk also makes it difficult for its prey to escape from its grasp.

Cyclocosmia ricketti doesn't always use this method to hunt, as when its confronted with a non-threatening insect, Cyclocosmia ricketti will get out of its burrow and then directly grab it to eat it. This spider can also use the coin-shaped disk on its abdomen to protect itself from enemies by blocking the entrance to its burrow with it, and using it as a shield, a phenomenon called 'phragmosis'.

Distribution

Cyclocosmia ricketti are found in the Chinese provinces of Fujian, Zhejiang, and Sichuan. They are primarily found living in caves. The farthest north they are known to have been found is Sichuan, this is notable as it was previously believed that Cyclocosmia ricketti were not able to survive in places where the temperature could drop below 13 degrees Celsius. Winters in the province of Sichuan are known to get even colder.

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

Image sources:

1.

https://za.pinterest.com/pin/604186106296940858/

2.

https://spidershoppe.com/products/cyclocosmia-ricketti-chinese-hourglass-trapdoor-sub-adults

3.

https://web.archive.org/web/20070811074158/http://rmbr.nus.edu.sg/rbz/biblio/54/54rbz119-124.pdf

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

Text references:

1.

Zhu, Zhang & Zhang, 2006 : Rare spiders of the genus Cyclocosmia (Arachnida: Araneae: Ctenizidae) from tropical and subtropical China. Raffles Bulletin of Zoology, vol. 54, No. 1, p. 119-124

https://web.archive.org/web/20070811074158/http://rmbr.nus.edu.sg/rbz/biblio/54/54rbz119-124.pdf

2.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cyclocosmia_ricketti

[jammed-out]

Hypnovember Day 9 - Creature

(CW: first person with vagina, tentacle fucking, ear penetration, brain fucking, hypnotic secretion, aphrodisiac, all the way through)

The cave seemed safe enough. Something inside was smelling incredibly sweet. As an explorer it was your job to document and explore uncharted places and locations. You raised your flashlight and crept inside the cave, slowly. The ground was slick, not quite wet but maybe slimy. Perhaps an unknown creature lived inside. You moved slower, your feet creeping carefully as you watched each step you took.

The air was damp, humid, and muggy. But still the sweet smell permeated throughout the room. You could see the slime on the walls as well and carefully reached out, touching it with your fingers. It was warm to the touch and sent a pleasant feeling through your fingers warming them instantly. Your fingers played in the liquid for a second, the gelatinous consistency pleasing to touch and spread on your skin. You smiled and pulled your hand away noting that it had an addicting sensation to it. You quickly wiped your hand on your pants, removing the slime from it.

You moved in farther, now far enough away that the only light was coming from your flashlight. Far enough away from the entrance to the cave to prevent anyone hearing you for help. But that was the life of an adventurer.

You could hear a sound, a wet slapping sound in the air. You stopped moving and immediately the sound stopped. Slowly you took a step forward and heard a similar sound fill the air again. It was humid here, so much so that you actually broke a sweat. You pushed on, slowly moving further in. As you did, you pulled off your jacket, tucking the flashlight into your waistband. You tied the jacket around your waist, baring your bare arms to the open air, sweat dripped down them.

You went to grab the flashlight once more only to accidentally send it tumbling to the floor. It bumped into something, blocking the light. You cursed yourself and got down on your knees, feeling about for it. There was no way you'd find your way out of here without it.

The slime here was thicker, thick enough to cover your hands fully. As you dug around you found your motions slowing, growing more sluggish. The warmth slid up your arms, spreading over them, wrapping tightly around them. It felt good to feel that way as the sensations spread further. You could feel it spreading up your legs too, almost crawling over them.

You could hear a wet sound as something pulled at your arms, slowly lifting them off of the ground. You tried to struggle but your arms felt so weak and heavy all of a sudden. The warmth draining the will to fight out of you. You glanced over and in the dark could make out a soft shimmering glow coming from what looked like a tentacle wrapped around each arm. They tangled tightly, sliding through your hands as your fingers gripped at them, wrapping tightly around your wrists, threading up over your elbows and biceps, before digging into your shirt. You could feel the warmth spreading as they moved further, teasing under your armpits.

You tried to squirm, to thrash against the restraints but found it harder to move. Other tentacles were moving now, Sliding under your pant legs, wrapping around your body. You could feel your shoes being plucked off of your feet by the unseen creature. The tentacles rose higher, tearing at your clothes as they stretched them to the point of fabric breaking. You could feel them climb higher, wrapping around your legs as they went numb hanging limply in the tentacle's grip. There was no escape for you now.

You could feel another tentacle moving towards your head. The warmth grew closer by the second. It wrapped around your neck, not tightly, just coiling for support before sliding up your neck creeping along your face. Your breath grew heavy now as you closed your mouth tightly. Your entire body was burning up aching for the tentacles to do what you knew they were planning for. You felt so empty and if the tentacles would just enter you, just fill that emptiness, it would be so much better. You knew the slimy secretions were causing these sensations, but you didn't care.

You felt a tentacle press against your clit, coating in the slimy substance. Immediately you felt it throb in need, swelling. Your body trembled in desire and you could sense the creature knew it. It slid back down, two tentacles pressing against your pussy. They slipped in, each almost pulling, stretching you wider as they slipped inward. You cried out in pleasure, cumming instantly. Your body wracked with pleasure.

The tentacle by your mouth wasted no time, slipping inside. It dove deep, quickly thrusting down into your mouth. Your tongue went numb as the secretions slid over it. You could feel the eagerness of the tentacle, digging deeper into your throat, sliding down stretching you out wider than you ever had before. Filling you deeper than ever before.

Your shirt burst apart bearing you fully naked to the cave air. Tentacles swarmed your body, wrapping around you, covering you quickly in the slime. You became numb to everything except pleasure, filling every inch of your body inside and out.

You could feel the tentacle inside of you sliding further, wrapping around every inch of your insides, pushing further and further. You couldn't help but imagine if anything would ever feel this good again. Suddenly you felt a pressure at your ears. Tentacles pushing against them, sliding in slowly. It hurt and you could feel the tentacle almost respond to the resistance, to your pain. A large gush inside of your pussy of the slime immediately sent your mind into a daze as you shook, another orgasm pulled from you by the creature. You trembled lost in the bliss as the tentacles pushed into your ears with a loud pop.

You went limp in the creature's grasp as the tentacles began to wrap around your brain. You could feel them gushing the slime into your head, it leaking out of your nose and ears. They slid over your mind, every thought being replaced by pure bliss. The tentacles knew how to make you feel good and you wanted that didn't you. You wanted the tentacles inside of you. They wanted to help you feel good. You wanted to feel good.

You came as the tentacle inside of you finally found exit out of your ass, fucking you straight through. Every inch of you penetrated fully. You were nothing but a set of holes for the tentacles to make you feel good. And that's what you wanted. Because that's what it wanted. To feel so good. You could feel it's pleasure as it fucked your mind with its tentacles. You could feel every inch of your body as you were fucked, as you fucked yourself. Feeling the pleasure as you gave yourself pleasure. Feeling every inch of yourself in a way you never felt before. You came surrendering to the bliss of the tentacles inside of you.

It was hours before you woke up, crawling your way out of the cave, covered in slime, stretched to your limit, trembling from pleasure. You gasped as your body expelled another bunch of slime from inside, your stomach still distended from the filling inside. You stumbled over to your campsite. Perhaps you wouldn't share this place with the other explorers. You expected you'd be coming back here quite a bit. What you weren't sure about was whether or not you wanted to, or the tentacles had told you to. Then again, did you really care. You stroked your swollen pussy and looked back at the entrance to the cave, eager to walk right back in.

[howlingmod]

I ACTUALLY MADE AN OC BASED OFF YOUR COMPUTER Y/N( killer ) Could we possibly get a little more of them please!!! Remember to drink some water!

summary - guest 1337 x killer reader

misc - GIGGLES ... im so so so glad to hear that id luvvv i you'd be willing to share more abt your oc .... sorry this is a bit short !! didnt have many ideas ...

-While the reader can move all the wires in their system, they generally won't move many of them unless it's for a specific situation / purpose. Typically, they prefer to stay as hands-free as possible since it comes off as too 'human' to them. They'll keep it for the times they're messing with Guest, poking and prodding at him in the dark pathways of the tunnel system or barring the door to your beating heart to keep him around a little while longer.

-Guest's never been able to get a good look at your core. He's been in that room plenty but it's so dark in there he's not able to make out much more than a mess of cords and boxes. You refuse to give him more details because you prefer to see what he comes up with. He sees you as this almost deep-sea-creature-esque monster, what with all the tendrils and the darkness. In all honesty, you've only fed into any existing anxiety he has about deep bodies of water.

-He's fallen asleep down there once or twice before. He doesn't do it often to prevent any repeats with the Elliot situation but you encourage him to, cooing about he'll keel right over if he doesn't treat himself better. He'll just scoff and bite back something about you keeping him from getting any sleep with all your 'testing' and mind games. In all honesty, as long as the lights are on and you haven't fucked with him too much that day, he finds the closed quarters of the rooms to be comforting in a way. There's no room for anything to hide and pop out at him, it's just the remains of whoever came before and you. He'll never say it but he almost finds the fact you've got eyes everywhere comforting- you clearly hate others coming down here so he's sure you'd react if any surprise visitors came by. It's like having an alarm that could kill threats the second they gave any warning, even if walking past those kills is a little gut-wrenching. You can't exactly do more than pull on people with those wires ...

-A part of him does feel for you. He doesn't know how you've gotten into his head like this and maybe he's only feeding you by feeling this way but there's just something tragic about you. He doesn't know your history but based on how complex you are and how you're hidden underground in the middle of nowhere like this, you clearly were something important. You're in relatively good condition with the lack of passerby but age is still wearing you down- parts of the cave are crumbling, your bearings are falling apart if you don't tear them down in your bloodthirst before then, God only knows how far away the nearest deposit of water is. You don't like him pointing it out, it's one of the few times he's witnessed any genuine rage from you. He's learned to stop. He doesn't know much about tech, especially not on this level and you would never let Builderman touch you. So, in the mean time he suffices by just propping things back into place where he can, even if held shoddily.

-You've got some level of feeling. You've described him as 'warm' before and you're well aware of the amount of pressure you use whenever you hold onto him or some unlucky victim. He's blindly brushed up against some of the servers in your core, feeling over the grates and fans and flickering lights while you hum something low and amused- it makes him feel a little weird, some sort of fluttery feeling invades his chest painfully.

-Whenever anyone else gets near the area where the ladder down is, he gets antsy. He's quick to lead them away, practically blocking the entrance with his own body. He insists its for their protection but he knows that's not the full truth, otherwise he would be saying something about it instead of just deflecting their attention. He's never mentioned your existence to anyone, never even made a hint about it, it's strange. He just doesn't want them to know, doesn't want to risk it. He still doesn't know if it's more the risk of them or you being hurt. He doesn't like thinking about it much.

[sevastiel]

Assorted Warframe fun facts I've found as of late! With screenshots and such. I find a lot of stuff just going through tilesets, looking for lore stuff that I can write into GS, so here's a few of my favorite things, in no particular order.

Folks who know me on discord have likely been subjected to these before.

-

-

While most of the 'growing' void angels look fem, there are masc variants of the ones you can wake up and fight.

The dummy you can whack on in Teshin's cave uses a very similar model+mask to the drifter doll in the Duviri paradox trailer, and I'm pretty sure it uses the drifter heron voice too, save with an accent.

There are a lot of wally arts around the zariman, (and liminus ones and orowyrm ones, I think,) but they're often close by symbols that seem like both references to dualism, (see: The scaldra's symbol) and the zariman's main time stream splitting in two, for the drifter and the Operator.

This pillar in the Backroom, and the underside of the loft, have some very silly issues with the 'surface' things snap to. The ceiling itself is a fair bit lower than what you see, and the pillar is thinner on that particular side.

The mission entrance symbol on both the deimos hubs is notably duviri-esque.

If you remove the zariman food cubes from your dormizone, they will double in size, allowing you to make comedically large bricks of nutrition. This sometimes applies to the utensils, too.

In some of the caves in the murmur parts of Albrecht's labs, there are little mollusk like growths on the walls and ceiling. They are visibly added on, too.

On the main image thing for the Hex, Arthur looks Very different, and his hair appears to be missing its silver.

If you put the Zariman horse poster on the wall backwards, it becomes impossible to interact with, and pitch black.

In the murmur areas, lightning will occasionally flash in the fog below, revealing Wally!

The bottom of the Zariman food tray casts a solid block of shadow upwards, sometimes.

Also, the wall scribbles project over items put against it.

If you're using a thrown weapon like the Glaive Prime, (Or something with a very slow heavy) and your target dies before you can complete the heavy attack induced by your Wrathful Advance, you can get stuck in the animation. Weapons/Abilities are still usable, but you're invincible and cant move. (To escape, you must use the ability again)

You can 'escape' the backroom by stacking decorations until you're mashed against the ceiling, transferring out, and transferring back in, (And mashing some more) but you can't actually place decorations out there which is sad. I could only access the little window ledge and haven't tried it again elsewhere, though I do mean to.

Sometimes the drifter's legs will glitch out on his agile stance and either stretch the Fuck out of the textures, or make his knees look like a bent straw. It makes me giggle.

The drifter's model takes priority over the decor around the backroom mirror for some reason.

95% sure that the center beam on the rafters is off centered, and it makes my brain really mad to look at.

The windows in the backroom reflect the original decorations/coloring, not your actual ones

The sand dunes in the sanctum anatomica are facing the wrong direction. This is not a problem in the actual in level tilesets that I've noticed.

[majoryeager104]

Vampire Keigo, who was infamous in your town. Those vicious, hideous wings of his, like that of a bat, bringing terror to those up late enough to see him soar overhead. Yet despite the way he tormented and taunted from the dark skies, no one had yet found him during the day, let alone kept up with him long enough to take him down. That is… till you stumbled into the cave he slept in during the day.

Vampire Keigo, who was hanging upside down from the ceiling of the cave, dozing soundly and happily when he heard your footsteps approaching. He heard people often outside, and so he shrugged it off and ignored you. His cave was throughly covered in overhanging leaves and vines, you’d never get in.

Vampire Keigo, who’s eyes snapped wide open when you did in fact get in (lmao), his massive wings, like a cocoon, opening up to reveal the opening of the cave to him, and sure enough, there you were, looking around with an annoyingly innocent look on your face, vision too obscured to see the monstrosity just across the cave in front of you. That is, till he made himself known.

Vampire Keigo, who decided with a smirk, to make a game of you, with one flap of his wings he’d breezed by overhead and landed in front of the cave entrance, blocking it with his wings. He watched with a bemused smile through the dark as you gasped and reached into your bag, fumbling with some matches. He stepped closer, and closer, his eyes never leaving yours as you struck the match, its flame just bright enough to reflect off the walls and reveal those massive wings of his, as well as that cocky look on his face.

Vampire Keigo, who watched you scream and stumble back, your match falling to the ground in front of you. He chuckled, kneeling down to pick it up, still lit, and twirl it between his fingers. Slowly he approached you, watching with even more glee than before as you backed up against the wall of the cave. He stood a safe distance away, raising his hands in amity. He laughed again, handing you your match as he spoke, watching your expression shift and change in amusement. He spoke calmly, his voice still raspy from sleep as his eyes lingered on yours, his words sending a shiver down your spine. “You shouldn’t be in here, you know. Scary things hide in the dark”

[radiostaticlive]

Tim did not wake up in his bed. No, he woke up a dirty alley in the heart of Crime Alley.

Tim, hand pressed over his ear: Oracle, can you fill me in.

Silence. Not even static.

Tim looks down for the first time and notices he’s not in consume. He’s not Red Robin, but Tim Drake. And pointy does not have any of his equipment on him.

What the heck. He was pretty sure he was fighting the Penguin earlier. Had that bird knocked him out and strip him?

No. No, he’s in the same clothes he put on the morning before. The same clothes that he wore to that stupid W.E meeting.

Tim, muttering to himself as he slowly leaves the alley: Ok. Ok calm down Tim. You can figure this out.

He pats himself down, looking for his phone to call the cave. He finds it, noticeably cracked but still functional.

No signal.

Tim: Just my luck. Looks like I have to walk home.

When Tim gets to the entrance of the cave he finds it sealed shut. Like glued to the seems with concrete shut.

Ok. That’s ok. Tim’s siblings prank him all the time. This is nothing new. Just incredibly inconvenient.

Takes him an additional 20 minutes but he’s finally in the cave, thanks to one of the multiple entrances. Thank god for Bruce and his paranoia.

“As you can see here. Batman had a tool for pretty much anything and everything. “

Tim froze at the unknown voice in the cave. Sticking to the shadows he crept forward to peer inside without being seen.

The cave looked sterile. Velvet rope blocked off the Bat computer, and off to the side a table was out displaying case files and Bat-a-rings.

What the.

“And if you look over here, you can see what our hero’s wore to protect our great city.” The same voice drew Tim’s attention to the group of people in the middle of the room.

They looked like tourists. Cameras out, faces a mixer of intrigued excitement or boredom. They were fallowing a lady, presumably the tour guide, to there Jason’s memorial was.

Tim was quick to sneak into the back of the group and act like he was just another bored teenager. He had to figure out what was going on and if that meant touring his own house, so be it.

Tour guide: And here we are. The Robins. the boy, or girl, Wonders. Now there were a total of 5 robins, but Stephane Brown only hold the mantle for a short time. In order the Robins were first, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, and Damian Wayne.

This isn’t good. First some lady was giving a tour of the Batcave of all places and now she knows their names. And she just told about 20 people and god who knows how many more.

She knows.

She told.

Everyone knows.

Fuck.

Ok, maybe the bats went into hiding? That had to be what happened. But then why would they leave Tim? Did they think he was dead?

The tour went on. The guide went on and on about things that didn’t really matter or were completely inaccurate. Tim was trying not to freak out the longer it went on.

Finally the group went to the elevator, except the small 2 passenger elevator was replaced with one of those big ones that could hold a large group of people.

The manor proper was very much in the same state as the cave. Things were roped off while other items were displayed. It made his head hurt.

Tapping the shoulder of the guy next to him.

Tim: Hey, do you remember what the name of this place is?

Guy: Uh, yeah kid. Kinda hard with the cheesy name.

Tim: Which is? Sorry bad memory.

Guy: The Bat- Museum. Seriously kid. I know that this stuff is boring but you gotta learn your history. The Bats were good people.

Tim, trying not to show the panic at the perfect that he’s been hearing all day.

Tim: Yeah you’re right.

Thankfully the cave seemed to be the end of the tour as the guide lead them to the main foyer.

Tim in all his panic glory, ran out the doors the minute people were leaving.

Muttering a desperate plead to any god in the universe.

Tim: Please don’t be right. Please don’t be right. Please don’t be dead.

With all the stealth his shaking form could do, Tim makes his was around the Manor to the secluded privet cemetery.

Tim’s heart dropped in his chest. Even at a distance he could make out several graves in the once nearly empty lot.

Not bothering with the gate, Tim climbed and hosted himself over landing hard on the ground.

But he

Did

Not

Care.

Tears unwilling fell from his eyes as he read the names on the new graves.

His family’s names.

On sleek marble.

Dead.

Even Alfred had his own stone. Right next to Bruce, like he always did. Like he forever will do now.

Tim stared blankly at his own grave that was in the middle of Steph’s and Jason’s. The one he crawled out of. But not this time.

In loving memory of Timmothy Drake- Wayne

Beloved son, friend and hero.

“Reach for the stars chum.” - Bruce Wayne, adopted father

Tim fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face.

He failed.

He failed them.

Again.

He couldn’t protect his family a second time. What a worthless “hero” he was. He couldn’t even die right!

White light surrounded Tim’s crying form.

Phantom stood, tears still falling down his face.

With one last look at the graves around him, he flew up and away from Gotham.

Away from the city he failed.

Just like Amity.

[areyoufuckingcrazy]

“Stitches and Secrets”

Kix x Jedi Reader

Warnings: injury

The smell of caf, oil, and clone armor clung to the air as you strolled into the briefing tent, half a pastry in your hand and absolutely no shame in your step. Anakin was already leaning over the holotable with Ahsoka at his side, mid-conversation with Rex about insertion points and droid resistance.

“There she is,” Anakin said, smirking as you bit into your breakfast. “Glad you could make it. We were all really worried you might be doing something important, like sleeping in.”

You gave him an exaggerated bow, crumbs falling from your lips. “The Force told me to take five. Who am I to argue with destiny?”

Ahsoka laughed. “She’s worse than you, Master.”

“I’m standing right here,” Anakin said dryly.

“And I’m complimenting you,” you shot back, tossing the last of your pastry into your mouth. “You’re rubbing off on me, Skywalker. I’m starting to think I’m unfit for Jedi Council politics.”

“That makes two of us,” Anakin muttered.

Rex cleared his throat gently. “Briefing, General?”

“Right,” Anakin said. “Serious faces. Tactical minds. Let’s go.”

You stood beside Ahsoka, arms crossed, watching the blue holographic map flicker into life. The target: a droid manufacturing facility buried beneath a city block on this dusty, nowhere Separatist planet. Classic war story setup—deep insertion, sabotage, get-out-before-the-ceiling-caves-in sort of plan.

Anakin pointed to three key locations. “Ahsoka, you’ll take your Squad through the northern tunnel system. I’ll come in from the west. You,” he glanced at you, “get to lead Torrent Company. Rex is heading point. Kix is your field medic.”

“Excellent,” you said brightly. “If I get blown up, I know exactly whose name to scream out.” And winked at Kix.

Kix, who’d been standing with perfect form behind Rex, blinked and glanced your way.

“Don’t flatter him,” Anakin said, grinning. “It goes to his head.”

“I think he deserves it,” you said with a shrug.

“Force help us,” Ahsoka muttered with a smile.

Kix said nothing, but you knew he heard it. The corner of his mouth twitched. Just a little.

Anakin resumed the plan rundown. “Once we’ve cleared the tunnel entrance, regroup at the main lift shaft, plant the charges, and extract. Simple. Clean. Hopefully fast.”

“Hopefully,” you echoed. “But if it isn’t, I call dibs on the most dramatic death scene.”

“No one’s dying,” Rex said, exasperated.

You leaned toward Ahsoka and whispered, “He’s no fun at all.”

⸻

Things went sideways by hour three.

The drop had gone smoothly. Your team slipped through the tunnel entrance with minimal resistance. You moved like water through the dark—saber humming, the Force buzzing at your fingertips, and Kix never more than a few meters behind.

The issue? Droid reinforcements. Heavier than expected. A trap inside the sublevels. When the floor collapsed under you and half your squad, you barely had time to throw up a Force shield before the shrapnel cut through you like knives.

You hit the ground hard. Your saber skidded away, and a jagged spike of pain tore through your side.

“General!” Kix’s voice came sharp and clear, echoing through the smoke.

You coughed, tried to sit up, and gasped. Your hand came away red.

Kix dropped beside you in seconds, already snapping open his medkit. His gloves were steady. His jaw was clenched. “You’re lucky it missed your vital organs.”

“Define lucky,” you rasped.

“Alive.”

“You’re sweet,” you mumbled, swaying slightly.

“Try not to pass out,” he said, voice tight as he pressed a bacta patch over the worst of the wound. “You need to stay awake.”

“Trying,” you slurred. “But you’re very distracting.”

He blinked down at you. “What?”

“Your eyes. They’re the worst. Too blue. And your voice is soothing. It’s unfair. You should come with a warning label.”

You felt his hands pause for a fraction of a second.

“Considering you can’t see my eyes, and the fact they are brown not blue. You’re delirious,” he muttered, but you could hear the faintest crack of a smile in his voice.

“I am not,” you insisted, blinking up at him. “In the past 3 minutes I’ve thought about kissing you like, five times. Maybe six. Who knows. Jedi don’t count those things.”

Kix worked in silence for a moment, patching you up, checking your pulse, muttering about shock and bacta levels. You didn’t stop talking.

“You always there for them,” you murmured. “Always patient. Always there. And you never say anything. But I can see it. I see you. You’re kind, Kix. Gentle. That’s rare in this war.”

Kix looked at you then. Really looked. And something in his eyes softened—like a thaw he hadn’t allowed himself before.

“I’m not gentle,” he said quietly. “I’m trained to fix people. That’s all.”

“You’ve certainly fixed me,” you whispered.

He didn’t respond to that. He just pulled you close enough to hoist you into his arms, careful not to jostle your wounds.

“Rex, I’ve got the general. She’s stable but needs evac,” he said into the comm, already moving.

You leaned your head against his shoulder, groggy and fading. “You smell like antiseptic and courage.”

“You’re gonna be so embarrassed when you wake up.”

“I’m already embarrassed. I haven’t kissed you yet.”

Kix let out a breath that might’ve been a laugh—or maybe something softer. “Maybe next time, starlight. When you’re not bleeding out.”

⸻

You woke up in the medbay. Groggy. Alive. Sore as hell.

The lights were dimmed, and someone was sitting beside you, back straight, arms crossed. Kix.

“You stayed,” you rasped.

He glanced at you. “I wanted to see if you’d survive.”

“And…?”

His voice was quiet, but firm. “I’m glad you did.”

There was a long pause. Then, with a smirk:

“So, did you mean any of it?” he asked. “The eyes. The courage. The part about kissing me?”

You smiled, exhausted but warm all over.

“Oh yeah. Every word.”

Kix leaned forward slowly, carefully, one hand brushing your cheek.

“Then let’s see if you’re a better kisser than a patient.”

You definitely were.

⸻

You’d barely been discharged from the medbay when Skywalker and Ahsoka appeared at your door like vultures circling a wounded animal.

“Well, well, well,” Anakin drawled, arms crossed and grin far too smug. “Look who decided to flirt her way through a near-death experience.”

Ahsoka stood beside him, trying and failing to look serious. “Rex told us everything. Said you were practically writing a love poem while bleeding out.”

You groaned, covering your face with one hand. “Does no one in this battalion understand the concept of privacy?”

“Not when the drama’s this good,” Ahsoka said, plopping herself at the foot of your bed. “I mean, you told Kix he smells like courage. Who says that?”

“It was the blood loss talking.”

Anakin raised a brow. “You also apparently told him his eyes were ‘too blue.’ That doesn’t even make sense. Too blue? His eyes are brown!”

“Must’ve been the armor” you snapped, gesturing vaguely toward the corridor. “It’s aggravating. Like being judged by a beach.”

They both burst out laughing.

“Stars,” Ahsoka wheezed, wiping her eyes. “You’re lucky Master Yoda wasn’t in the room. You’d be Force-grounded for breaking the code.”

Anakin wiggled his brows. “Technically, I’m not allowed to judge.”

You shot him a look. “Please. You’re the last person who gets to bring up the Jedi Code.”

He didn’t deny it.

“Anyway,” Ahsoka said, sitting up straighter with a sly smile. “What we want to know is: did you get the kiss?”

You gave them both a very satisfied, very smug smile.

“I did.”

Silence.

Anakin blinked. “Wait. What?”

“You kissed Kix?” Ahsoka practically squealed, grabbing your arm. “When?”

“In the medbay. Post-stitches. Very romantic. Smelled like disinfectant and trauma bonding.”

Anakin shook his head in mock disbelief. “Force help us. You’re worse than I am.”

“I know,” you said with a smirk. “And unlike you, I don’t pretend to be subtle.”

Ahsoka howled with laughter.

Outside, you could’ve sworn you heard clone boots squeaking away from the medbay window. Probably Jesse or Fives listening in. Again.

“You’re never gonna live this down,” Anakin said, grinning wide.

You leaned back, smug and satisfied. “I don’t plan to.”

⸻

Fives and Jesse stumbled into the barracks like two kids who’d just found contraband candy in the Temple. Breathless, grinning, eyes wide with glee.

“Kix,” Jesse gasped, skidding to a stop in front of the medic’s bunk. “Tell me it’s true.”

Kix looked up from cleaning his kit, brow raised. “Tell you what’s true?”

“Oh, don’t play innocent,” Fives said, practically vibrating with energy. “We heard it. Straight from her own mouth.”

“She kissed you!” Jesse blurted. “Right in the medbay!”

Kix blinked once. “You were eavesdropping?”

Fives held up a hand. “Strategically positioned for morale updates.”

“You mean you pressed your faces to the window like nosey cadets,” Kix muttered, already regretting every life choice that led him here.

Fives flopped onto a bunk like he’d just been awarded a medal. “Kissing a Jedi… while she was still half-dead. That’s next-level.”

“She called you a ‘war angel in plastoid,’” Jesse said with a grin. “That’s poetry, Kix. Pure poetry.”

Kix groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I was saving her life.”

“Yeah, and then saving her lips,” Fives added.

Jesse smacked his arm. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Doesn’t have to,” Fives said proudly. “It’s romance.”

Kix opened his mouth to fire back—but then the door slid open, and in walked Rex.

“Why are you two shouting like regs on a first patrol—” He paused mid-sentence, eyes narrowing at the scene. Fives smirking. Jesse grinning. Kix looking like he wanted to dissolve into bacta.

Rex raised a brow. “Am I walking into a war crime or a love story?”

Jesse pointed at Kix. “Our boy kissed the General.”

Rex blinked. Once. Then twice.

Then, completely deadpan, he said, “About time.”

Kix’s jaw dropped. “Rex!”

Fives lost it. “I knew you knew! I knew it!”

Rex crossed his arms, smiling just enough to twist the knife. “She’s been making eyes at him the whole campaign. Whole battalion’s been waiting for someone to make a move. Just didn’t expect it to happen during triage.”

Jesse gasped. “You knew and didn’t tell us?!”

Rex shrugged. “Didn’t want to ruin the suspense.”

Fives snorted. “Cold, Rex. Cold.”

Kix looked like he was seriously considering injecting himself with a sedative. “I hate all of you.”

Rex clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ll live, lover boy.”

Jesse wheezed.

“Alright, alright,” Rex said finally, stepping back toward the door. “Joke time’s over. Back to your posts before I have you cleaning carbon scoring with your tongues.”

Fives groaned. “He always ruins the fun.”

Jesse saluted with a grin. “On it, Captain Matchmaker.”

They left laughing, boots thudding down the corridor, and Kix sat in the silence for a moment, staring down at his gloves.

Then, quietly, under his breath:

“…War angel in plastoid?”

He smiled. Just a little.

[moodymisty]

Author's note: Inspired by this anon along with the amazing snippet @kit-williams wrote for it

Relationships: Vulkan/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Pred/Prey, Rough sex, Blood

You fall again, and the jagged rocks bite at your knees and palms. Little speckles of blood dot across your palms as you look at him, before quickly getting up and trying to run again.

A stupid mistake- now he'll be able to smell exactly where you are. He already can, you know the scent of your sweat lingers in the air like smoke, but fresh blood is like a beacon you can't get away from fast enough.

You lost him for a short while, slipping through a tunnel that wasn't large enough for him to get through. Your smaller stature remains your single advantage you have against him.

But the tunnels echo sound incredibly well, and you can sometimes hear his footsteps ringing through the system of caves. He can hear yours as well, tracking you down and gaining on you.

"Did you cut yourself? I can smell the blood,"

Entering one of the wider, huge main tunnels you look around quickly for a little rat hole to take next, trying to avoid standing like prey in the middle of such a huge area. You think you see a few options, but the one farthest down seems the smallest, and your best bet.

Rushing towards it you're almost there when you suddenly hear the sound of his footsteps thundering through the system of caves; Rocks crumbling underneath his feet.

"There you are,"

He appears at the far end of the tunnel blocking off your exit, and you nearly fall attempting to scramble backwards.

You know he's just playing, that this is just a fun game you had propositioned, but when he starts running towards you every primal, instinctual animal part of your brain tells you he's a predator- to run- you let out a bloodcurdling scream that rips through your throat and puts spittle on your lips.

Quickly you scramble towards the closest tunnel that you think can't fit him, but only by a few feet. Dug by the astartes you assume.

Vulkan however laughs at your screams, like a wolf driven by the squeaks of an limping, injured rabbit.

He's being slow on purpose, letting you run into your safe tunnel out of his reach. He's trying to extend the game on purpose and enjoy it. He could catch you in an instant if he truly wanted to, but half the fun is stalking you; Cornering you.

In a less stressful time you might find it interesting how despite him being so much softer than his fellow primarchs, there is still that latent, apex predator instinct in him that loves this. You aren't supposed to run from predators, it triggers that prey drive in them, and that's exactly what you think Vulkan is feeling when you scurry away from him. There's something in his eyes that's changed the few times you've caught sight of him since the hunt started.

"I can hear you're getting tired. How much longer do you think you can keep this up?"

Your heart hammers against your ribcage as you hide, seeing him walk past the entrance you just went into.

You try to watch and listen as his footsteps trail farther and farther away, and you assume he's going to the other side of the tunnel you're in. Cautiously peeking out the way you went in you don't see him, or hear him, and quickly you scurry out to try another way.

Down the large main tunnel you run and try to ignore the burning in your throat; You're so thirsty, you'd almost consider letting him catch you to just get some water.

You don't know how long it's been- It could only have been an hour for all you know. But you're so tired, stopping in front of a step in your path.

For an astartes it would be a steep step up, but for you, it's a small climb. You jump and with a grunt manage to fold yourself onto it, legs dangling. Your feet kick trying to dig your shoe in to get purchase on the rocks, trying to wiggle higher and get the rest of your body up.

suddenly you feel the ground begin to shake, the sound of his footsteps quickly begins to close in.

You gather all the strength you can to try and clamber for more purchase on the rocks, feeling your heart begin to race as you panic. Despite everything telling you not to you turn around and see him come into view, right towards you. Once he realizes that you're partly stuck he quickens, and you let out another scream as you quickly try and pull up your other leg. But each rock you get a toe on crumbles, causing your heart and your breathing to quicken as he approaches.

You manage to get to your hands and knees on the stone only for him to suddenly grab you by the legs, and you let another another scream. Your hands dig into the dust and dirt and rocks to try and clamber away, kicking your legs at his arms. For a moment you almost don't even remember this is Vulkan- your mind is just saying run.

"You thought you could sneak around me?"

Dragging you across the stone floor to him he lets you dangle off the step, lying on your stomach while your legs hang of the edge. He's tearing at your clothes, your bottoms torn to shreds and you gasp as you feel the weight of his cock against you. The thick head of his cock slips between your outer lips and pushes against your entrance, and you feel the burn of your muscles trying to stretch while the dirt and stone scratches your skin. Your dry throat can only manage to let out a pathetic cry, one that hiccups as your parched mouth can't keep the noise smooth.

"The hunt is over, now I can enjoy the reward."

The light in he room is dim, the candles mostly melted. You watch the little flames flicker as Vulkan puts a bandage on your torn knee, patting it gently.

"You should try to fall less down there, I wouldn't want you breaking any bones."

You puff out your cheeks full of air before blowing them at him. The warmth of his palms radiates over your skin, feeling good almost as if using a heatpack on sore muscles.

"I try not to, but it's a bit hard to keep upright when a massive primarch is running at you. You're lucky I didn't crumple to the ground and let my heart give out."

Vulkan chuckles, a soft smile on his face that makes your face grow warm.

"You know I would never truly hurt you," He says, and you nod.

"I know, but it's still terrifying," You say. Vulkan moves to bandage your other knee. "I think I could go for longer next time, though." The way he looks up at you is amused but dark, implying that you want more.

"You want to do this again?" You nod, an eagerness held within it that had you embarrassingly warm.

"Of course; I know the layout of the tunnels better now, I think I could avoid you for longer." Vulkan finishes bandaging your other knee and puts his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him.

"You assume I would bring you to the same tunnels?" Quickly you loose your smile.

"Yes! This is your home and you dug many of these tunnels, let me have a bit of an advantage!" Vulkan laughs, hands squeezing your hips with a comfortable pressure. You swing your legs a bit and one bumps into his stomach by accident.

"That is fair." He looks at you. "You should try not to exert yourself so soon though, I knew right away you would tire yourself out and I could corner you." You look at him curiously, holding your arms.

"You want to make it more difficult for you?"

Vulkan leans in to give you a kiss. His eyes have a bit of that darkness you saw down in the tunnels.

"No true hunter enjoys easy prey. We want a real chase."

[robin-evry]

Maybe you could do Oni! yuu as well?

Sure why not, ask and you shall receive

𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐍𝐈 👹⚡

An oni (鬼おに) (/oʊni/ OH-nee) is a kind of yōkai, demon, orc, ogre, or troll in Japanese folklore. They are believed to live in caves or deep in the mountains.Oni are known for their superhuman strength and have been associated with powers like thunder and lightning

( English is not my first language )

Day 2 : oni!yuu

During the entrance ceremony it was going smoothly suddenly, one of the coffins burst open the door flew across the room and the person that burst through the coffin was swinging their club with spikes towards the headmaster.

The headmaster Crowley manages to dodge it just in time, the club hits the ground leaving a large crater. The attacker was wearing the entrance ceremony robe as well as wearing a hannya mask, which has a white wig with an extremely long and wild mane attached to the top. Not to mention how freaking tall this person is.

The student would be seen preparing to swing their club upon the headmaster, before they could riddle fire his signature spell upon the student to stop but it didn't do anything upon them, they basically dust it off as it was nothing. Their attention soon turns to the red haired dorm leader, before he could fire a spell the student appears in front of him and they slap his magic pen from his hand and it flew to the other side of the orientation room.

The students grabbed riddle's neck and started to choke him with, if the student added a little more pressure He swears his neck was gonna break. Suddenly a group of clones tackles them to the ground, this manages to give riddle to escape from their graps and Trey drags him to the underside far. Cater clones manage to pile over the student. But suddenly a large flash of lightning crashes down upon the pile and electrocuting his clones. His spell soon dispels and cater lay on the ground wasted.

The students stand up and continue towards the injured riddle and Trey. Soon Crowley blocked their path and begged the student to calm down saying that there might be some misunderstanding and that there in NRC right now.

Crowley asks everyone to retrieve back their dorms and then talk for a bit, in his office the student soon takes off their hannya mask. They introduce themselves as Oni!Yuu / nickname. Oni!yuu apologize for trying to kill him because they were confused where they were. In the infirmary trey was trying to calm riddle while Carter was being healed.

Regardless oni!yuu is allowed to be in NRC even after the accident, Crowley let oni!yuu to stay at ramshackle but during the school year oni!yuu is not allowed to hurt a student under circumstances as well as not having their club with them, during the night grim sneak into the ramshackle into the dorm at first oni!yuu thought grim was tanuki or kaibyo

On the first day, of school oni!yuu was approached by ace and deuce. Ace was the first one to approach them and introduce themselves to them. Ace was planning on teasing oni!yuu but before that could happen deuce managed to stop him. The storyline continues during the dwarf mind since oni!yuu is not allowed to use their club, they decided to punch the overblot monster in the head causing its body to explode. Well that was an easy win.

During the heartslabyul arc, painting the roses red, oni!yuu manage to apologize to Carter for electrocuting him, originally Carter doesn't trust and fear by oni!yuu but they seem like a nice person. At lunch no one was there to introduce them to the dorms since trey is trying his best to avoid oni!yuu while Carter even tho making communication Carter still prefers to not get close to oni!yuu... So the person who introduced the dorm was Carter minus trey.

Riddle by far was traumatized by oni!yuu. Riddle would avoid them like the plague, the hand marks they make upon his neck are still there. The marks aren't as red as before but it's still there. So basically after his overblot. Oni! yuu bow down and apologize for what happened during the ceremony, even tho riddle forgave them, he still prefers to keep some distance but his slowly warming up to him.

Oni!yuu would be incredibly tall towering most of the students at NRC plus they two large blue/red horns on their head, although oni!yuu is unable to use magic, they were blessed with an incredible body, they are able to lift up their club/kanabo without any problems. oni!yuu body is immune to magic they are able to withstand powered magic spells without getting a scratch on their body. Example of a riddle using his magic on them and they leave without a scartch. They can lift up the first years without any trouble, as well possessing incredible speed they can disappear in a blink of an eye.

Oni!yuu also has this bonus ability to control and summon lightning and wind. But this does not count as magic due to summoning lightning doesn't need to cast spells and enchantment or needing mana for it to be summoned. Oni!yuu are also able to shape shift into humans, the form they're taking in NRC is not their original form.

The kanabo/club they Carried is incredibly heavy literally no one else is able to lift it, not even malleus using magic. Oni!yuu would epel biggest role model as well as vil biggest nightmare. Epel ask for oni!yuu to train him but before they could say yes, vil drag epel by the ear. By now oni!yuu is secretly training epel when it's night or during the time vil is too busy. But soon vil caught on what's going on due to epel eye bags on his eyes, vil was about to confront oni!yuu but epel stop him. Seeing how epel is determined to keep training, vil allowed him to train but as long vil and rook are present.

Oni!yuu and malleus definitely are bff. They met during malleus visiting the ramshackle, oni!yuu just got finished training and was walking back to ramshackle. They saw malleus and immediately bolted towards him. Malleus thought that they were planning to attack him but surprisingly, oni!yuu look with excitement and say they both have horns, they gush at him saying how cool they look and they never thought they were going to meet another oni. Malleus corrected them saying that his a fae. And know oni!yuu is now ecstatic. This is a bloom of a beautiful friendship.

After their display of their bodies prowess, Azul is now hooked and will try to hire oni!yuu as a bouncer for monstro lounge. Depends on you guys whether or not they take the job or not. But if they did, bff #2 Floyd. Every time they see each other they will drop everything just to hug and squeeze each other.

[ladykailitha]

The Dragon Slayer Part 3

Boom, baby! We are back!! This is my new schedule for fics here! Be sure to check it out so you don't miss your favorites!

I would just go back and reread both chapters starting here. I cringe to think how long it's been. But I think I have where I'm going with it sorted out and hopefully I won't hit another road block.

Part 1 Part 2

Cliffhanger warning? That's more likely than you think. ;)

~

Steffan loved to sit on the rock outcropping near the entrance of the cave and watch Edgewraith fly around the mountain as he got ready to land. He thought he was the most beautiful dragon he had ever seen. And he had seen a lot. Killed a fair portion, that was true, but only the ones that people were genuinely frightened of.

Because there was a major difference between singing the dragon’s praises because it was well-beloved and singing its praises lest it be near and eat them.

Edgewraith landed deftly a hundred feet from where Steffan was sitting, buffeting him with wind from his wings. Steffan huffed as he struggled to get his hair back in place.

“You are a vain man, Sir Steffan,” Edgewraith growled, the fire and ash kept to a minimum as to not burn the grass around the entrance. “Always fussing with your hair or your clothes.”

Steffan laughed. “Got to look pretty for the beautiful creature who rescued me from a life of starvation and ennui.”

If dragons could blush, he was sure his friend would have been. Edgewraith ducked his head and turned away.

“Flattery will get you everywhere with me,” he huffed, smoke coming from his nostrils.

“Oh?” Steffan teased. “Everywhere you say? Duly noted.” He hopped off his rock and trotted up to him. “Does that include touching you?”

Edgewraith’s eyes went wide. “You’d want to touch me? Not hurt me or harm me, just to touch?”

“Very much so,” Steffan murmured, getting as close as he could to him.

Edgewraith lowered his head placed it within arms reach. Steffan reached out and touched the snout just above the nostrils. He huffed out a short, giddy laugh.

“You’re so warm,” he breathed. “I can feel you.”

Edgewraith ducked his head again, away from Steffan’s touch. “You’re very warm, too.”

Steffan gently took his head and face it around again. Then he pressed their foreheads together, cradling the dragon’s chin.

Edgewraith began to make a sound like a low rumble before an avalanche. Steffan raised his head in delight.

“Are–are you purring?”

Edgewraith jerked his head up in surprise. “No! Of course not! Dragons don’t purr. Despite what people think, we’re not catlike, cats are dragonlike. Thank you very much.”

Steffan burst out laughing. “Well, I thought it was a lovely sound. I hope to hear it soon.”

The dragon pulled up his tail in front of his face and then deftly slipped around him to dive into the cave.

~

Steffan followed his friend into the cave and saw him curled up around the stove.

Pouting.

He went up to Edgewraith and pet his snout. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It was a sweet sound and I was sincere about wanting to hear it again.”

Edgewraith lifted his head and huffed steam out of his nose. “I have never made that noise my whole life and you wander in and suddenly I purring.”

“And how long has that been?” Steffan said with a chuckle, leaning his face away from the fog.

“I am over a thousand years old,” Edgewraith groused. “But then, humans have never gotten this close before and certainly not as willing as you appear to be.”

“Consider me very willing indeed.” Steffan’s voice dropped low and soft. “I adore you.”

“Are you sure it’s not Edwin you adore?” Edgewraith grumbled and Steffan was forced to step back as flames and brimstone slid out of his mouth. Steffan was pretty fire proof, but it was not something he actually wanted to test that close to dragon’s fire.

“Do you think me that naive, dear friend?” Steffan asked tenderly. “I’ve known for awhile that the two of you were one. I was waiting for you to trust me enough to tell me the truth.”

Edgewraith hiccuped and landed on the floor hard as Edwin. He looked up at Steffan in awe.

“Oh!”

Steffan held out his hand to Edwin and he took it. He helped him to his feet and suddenly they were nose to nose. A dark dusky rose blossomed on Edwin’s cheeks, but he couldn’t hide as Steffan had both of his hands.

Steffan let go of one hand to brush Edwin’s hair out his face. “Now I know why you spent your evening hours as a dragon. You blush so beautifully in the dark gleam of the torch light.”

If Edwin could have blushed harder, he would have. Instead he did the only thing he could think of, he kissed the former knight right on the lips. He pulled him close as their bodies would allow.

Steffan could feel a warmth between them an almost glow. He felt like it would consume him. He almost wished it would. How wonderful it would have been to go out in the flame of his beloved. But alas, and also not, Edwin broke off the kiss and panting, pressed their foreheads together.

“I never thought that I would ever fall in love with a human,” Edwin murmured. “But Steffan, I do. I love you so much. I fear your death would be the end of me.”

Steffan cradled Edwin’s face in his hands and then kissed him tenderly. “Then for however long I have, we will be as one.”

Edwin huffed out a watery little laugh. “Such optimism. Humans have it in such spades. I adore it. Yes, Steffan for as long as you have, we are one.”

Steffan surged forward and roamed his hands all over him, trying to get as close as possible. Edwin pushed him back gently. “There is one thing that we cannot do, as it would be very harmful to you.”

Steffan tilted his head to side. “What’s that, my heart’s fire?”

Edwin blushed darker than his red scales. He tapped Steffan’s forehead. “While your father’s spell keeps your outside from being burnt, it down not protect your inside.” He cocked his head to side. “Technically two things we cannot do. You know how hot I run, trust me when I say that you don’t want my cock in any part of you.”

Steffan blinked for a moment. “But what about putting me into you?”

The dragon coughed and turned away. “That would be acceptable, seeing as a dragon’s inside isn’t any different from a human.” He turned to look him in the eye. “That said, my dearest knight, My mouth is a completely different kettle of fish. In this form, I run no hotter than you, but in my dragon form? It is highly protected from the flames of my own belly.”

Steffan carefully stroked the side of Edwin’s face, slowly turning it back to face him. “I think I follow what you are saying. So I propose that we keep our love making to hands and mouths on skin only. That way there is no hard feelings on either side.”

“I can agree to that,” Edwin purred. And he took Steffan’s hand to lead to him to where Edwin slept as a mortal.

The room was vast, vast enough to fit a dragon of Edgewraith’s size should that come that. It was decorated with trinkets and toys and games. Senet, mancala, go, chess and even parchisi littered the area with dolls and wooden toys everywhere and that’s when Steffan realized he was looking his dragon’s hoard.

Edgewraith collected play!

Steffan looked back at Edwin to see that he stopped and was looking down at his feet, picking at the skin around his nails. Gone was the happy, upbeat person that was both Edgewraith and Edwin.

He took a step toward Edwin, who turned away. Steffan placed his arms around him and kissed the crown of curls on his head.

“You shouldn’t be ashamed of this hoard, beloved,” he whispered. “It’s beautiful and perfectly you. I’m happy you trusted me enough to let me see it. Now trust me not to mock you for it.”

Edwin raised his head, brown eyes wide and wet with unshed tears. “You don’t think it childish or naive?”

“Yes, to both,” Steffan said gently, “but that’s their point to be those things and if you love them you should get to collect them without fear of recrimination.”

Edwin raised his head and looked at Steffan in awe. The tears had dried up and now his eyes sparkled with something a little bit closer to mischief.

Suddenly Steffan was being swept off his feet and tossed onto the nearby bed. He let out a surprise yelp before he realized what had happened. Edwin stalked his way across the room, and he felt heat pool in the bottom of his stomach.

Their clothes were quickly removed as Steffan situated himself on the bed. Then they were lost to the world for quite sometime as they explored each other’s bodies with their hands and mouths.

~

As they wound their lives together a niggling thought laid its nest in Edwin’s brain and slowly began to hatch.

“Darling?” he asked one night as they lay entwined around each other. “Tell my about your mother. What was she like?”

Steffan sighed. “Of course you know she was killed by a dragon shortly after I was born, but the man that my father gave me to, told me stories about her. She was beauty itself. Long honey-colored tresses and bronze eyes. She was every perfect picture of grace and decorum any man could want.”

“She sounds like she was very lovely indeed,” Edwin murmured against the skin of Steffan’s collar bone. “Did they say how she died? I know you said a dragon killed her, but there must be something more, right?”

Steffan sat up and drew his knees to his chest. “The story Iago told was one of flames and misery. During my birth, I was breech and as the midwife tried to turn me so that I could be born the dragon attacked, killing my mother, and nearly killing the midwife. Her arms were blackened from the fire as she drew me out of the now still body of my mother.

He squeezed his eyes shut. “She would later succumb to her injuries. I think it was then that my father decided to give me to the dragon slayers. Losing both the midwife and the queen was too much to bare.”

Edwin drew him close and laid his head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, sweet one. That must have been hard to hear.”

“I think he blamed my birth for her death,” Steffan murmured into Edwin’s collar bone. “That if I hadn’t been born she might still be alive.”

“Do you have a picture of her?’

Steffan nodded and pulled out the locket he always wore and took it off to hand to Edwin. Edwin opened the locket to a strand of honey colored hair and a miniature portrait of a stunning woman. A woman with whom Steffan bore a strong resemblance to.

“She was beautiful.”

“I wish I could have met her,” Steffan said, gently taking the locket from his hands and putting it back on.

“I wish I could have met her too,” Edwin murmured and pulled them both down to sleep.

~

Edwin kissed Steffan goodbye for a couple of days. He had things that he had to attend to. This wasn’t unusual for Edgewraith to go off for days in search of game or other resources, but it was the first time he did so with such a solemn air.

Steffan busied himself with playing with the children.

Dylan was bright but bossy, Morwen tenacious, but tender. But his favorite was definitely that of Eliwen the head watchman’s daughter. She was bright and curious but had this air of seriousness to her like everything she said was grave importance. Which Steffan supposed it was.

“When will Edgewraith be back?” Laurus moaned. “We wanted to show him our new kites!” Eligia and he both held aloft two beautifully crafted kites. One was black and red and the other was bronze and brown.

“Laurus’s is a boring brown and more brown,” Eligia huffed. “Mine is sleek and stupendous like Edgewraith himself.”

Laurus stuck his tongue at her and she did the same in return.

“It depends on how long the errand takes,” Steffan reminded them. “Sometimes it takes him less than a day, others a fortnight or more.”

All the children pouted.

“How long has he been gone, Steffan?” Matthew whined. “It feels like it’s already been forever.”

Steffan smiled at the thin, lanky boy. “He left but yesterday morning. If he comes back soon, the earliest would tomorrow night.”

Matthew pouted and Steffan got up to try and distract them. He had them all line up to teach them all how to sword fight, yes even the girls.

When Matthew protested, Steffan told him, “They need to be able to defend themselves.”

Eligia was eager, Morwen was intrigued, but Eliwen was unsure. Steffan knelt in front of her. “The world is a harsh place and though you have a lot of people who will protect you at all cost, but if you’re caught unaware or even alone, you need the skills to defend yourself.”

Then after a couple of days he wanted to laugh himself sick, Eliwen was the most tenacious and fierce fighter out of all them, including Eligia.

~

When Edgewraith returned, he was not alone. Behind him flew the most beautiful dragon he had ever seen and he had seen a lot. Their scales glimmered bronze and shone brightly in the dying light of the day.

Swiftly Edgewraith changed into Edwin and he came rushing up to Steffan, kissing him deeply.

“I have a confession to make, sweet one,” Edwin murmured. “I went in search of the dragon that killed your mother.”

Steffan’s heart dropped to his stomach. “Is that them?” He jutted his chin toward the beautiful creature sunning on his favorite rock.

Edwin shook his head. “No, Steffan. It’s better than that.” He tugged on his hand. “Come. Come meet Mirrorwing.”

Steffan allowed himself to be lead to the new dragon, but as they approached the dragon changed into their human form. Her hair was the color of honey and it flowed all the way to her slim waist. She wore a brown dress over a white shift, tied at the waist with a dark brown leather belt.

“Mama?” Steffan cried.

She held open her arms and he ran into them. She wrapped him up tight and held on for dear life. “Oh, my little Steffan.” She kissed the top of his head. “I’m so sorry. I did not know your father had been so cruel. Otherwise I would have stolen you away with me.”

“What happened?”

She led him over to the rock and sat him down.

“The midwife was also a dragon,” she explained. “And birth for dragons is harder than for humans, so I was trying to give birth to you as a human, if nothing else than to protect both our identities. But you were breech and Olga–Oddwing reached into turn you, the pain was too much for me and I accidentally turned back into my dragon form...” She took his hands and held them.

“Burning her arms.”

Mirrorwing nodded. “Your father came rushing in and understood everything at glance. He knew who I was, he knew what you most certainly could be.”

“A half dragon,” Steffan breathed.

~

Part 4

Tag List: TWO SLOTS REMAINING

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10- @steddieislife @ollyxar @eyehartart

[minniesmutt]

Oooh okay congrats btw and I have TWO b/c I can't make up my mind and you can just pick one PLEASE!!

1. Wolf!Chan X human!reader

'Oh no not until you beg'

OR...

1. Siren!Hyunjin X human!reader

'You look good enough to eat'

Because get it??? He's a siren haha

Hope these are good! Thank you 🙏

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: HYUNJIN X READER ☾ ━━━ PROMPT: 25 “You look just about good enough to eat.” ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: SIREN!HYUNJIN, HUMAN!READER, FEAR OF THE OCEAN, ORAL (F. REC), PORN W/O PLOT, FINGERING, IMPLIED MORE ROUNDS ☾ ━━━ WC: 0.5K ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     The ocean was dangerous; heavily unexplored and no one knew what lurked below. But if the creatures below wanted to be seen, they’d show.

     “You’re back,” Hyunjin smiled as he swam from the ocean entrance to the enclosed cove.

     “I promised I would be,” Y/n smiled as she dropped her bag down and sat on the ledge, dipping her feet in the water as the siren swam closer.

     “Going to actually get in the water with me today?” Hyunjin asked

     “I’m not going out in the ocean,” Y/n told him

     “We won’t. Just float in here,” Hyunjin offered 

     “Alright,” Y/n agreed, standing up and taking off her shorts and top, leaving her in the swimsuit she wore underneath. 

     Hyunjin helped her into the water, instantly pulling her close to him to lap her afloat easier. He’d never deny his attraction to the human, but that didn’t mean he’d say it to her either. He knew their relationship could never work. Two different worlds and they were sneaking around in coves. But having her this close and the way she looked in the swimsuit was making him question all of it. 

     “Hyunjin?” Y/n asked 

     “Hm?” He hummed

     “What are you thinking about?” She asked, brushing back his wet hair

     “Thinking how you look just about good enough to eat.”

     “Coming from a siren, that’s a little scary.”

     “Not like that.”

     Even in the cold water, Y/n felt like her body was on fire. Hyunjin just weirdly confessed to her and all she could do was kiss him. The siren wrapped her legs around his hips and pushed them up against the rocky wall of the cave. “Hyunjin,” Y/n moaned

     “Need you,” Hyunjin said, practically tearing the fabric off her before disappearing underwater. Y/n looked down, seeing the black hair floating as he moved her legs over his shoulders.

     Y/n barely managed to grab hold of the rocks behind her when she felt his plump lips she spent hours staring at wrap around her clit. A gasp left her as he sucked on the bud, his nails digging into the tops of her thighs to keep her close to him. 

     She felt a twinge of guilt that she might be covering his gills but the way his tongue danced with her clit made her forget quickly. She let her head fall back against the rocky wall. Her moans echoing off the walls as Hyunjin pushed tw webbed fingers into her. She managed to reach underwater and grab a handful of his hair. 

     She couldn’t hear him moan but she could definetly feel the sound vibrating her clit. His lips and tongue working the small bundle of nerves all while his fingers brushed up against her walls. She didn’t know how much longer she was going to last between his lips and fingers. 

     Her body felt hot as her back arched off the wall of the cave and the knot she barely felt forming snapped. Cumming on the siren’s fingers and feeling his tongue on her entrance too. If it wasn’t for Hyunjin holding her up she would sink into the water. He came up from the water and wrapped his arms around her waist to keep her steady.

     “Taste better than I thought,” he teased

     “Think you’re tongue works better than a siren song,” Y/n told him, arms wrapping around his shoulders

      “Let’s get you on land, maybe get to our main course.”

☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR     WANNA JOIN MY TAGLIST?

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© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[hometoursandotherstuff]

OMG, look at this cave house built into the side of a mountain in Oia, on the Greek island of Santorini. It has 2bds, 2ba, and can be expanded to a 3rd suite on the upper level. These homes date back to over 250 yrs. This one was updated in 1990. Investors rent them out as vac. homes, but there are permanent residents, as well. $985,752.

Can you imagine living here?

Look at how cute and cheerful it is.

A built-in rock niche with shelves.

I don't know why, but they only show a glimpse of the kitchen and entrance to the lower level.

Oh, that's so cute, the way they have the main bedroom blocked off.

The bed and this couch are built in. It looks like one can easily sleep on here, too.

Plus, there's a 2nd built-in sofa. According to some listings, the house has 2bds, 2ba, and others say it's just 1bd, 1ba.

This is a sitting room, in addition to the seating area when you enter.

Mosaic shower.

Look at the view from the front yard. Isn't that little gate cute?

This is stunning.

This is probably what the listing means when it says that you can put in a 3rd suite. There must be space up here.

Can you imagine even having this as a vac. home? I wouldn't mind living here, though.

Look at the rock the town is built on and in.

Beautiful blue roofs.

Here's the beach, and the listing says there's also access to a pool.

You can see how small the Santorini island is.

Oia is at the tip, right on the water.

https://www.jamesedition.com/real_estate/santorini-greece/super-investment-opportunity-in-oia-santorini-cave-house-at-caldera-10618160

[fratboykate]

Wait papi what about the first time Yelena finally caved and fucked Kate? And was it their first kiss as well?

And then how long was it from that to like them actually figuring out they had feelings for each other

You already got the first time they kissed/fucked before. Here...BUT what about three times they ALMOST kissed right before her birthday? Here's 4.4k of pure sexual tension.

---

11:52PM. On a Tuesday.

That particular shade of Tuesday night that only exists for people who don’t live normal lives. The air smells like city steam and late-night decisions. The streets are quiet but the tension’s loud. The kind of hour when sidewalks empty and everything sharpens. Streetlights smear gold across the pavement. A black Escalade hugs the curb.

Yelena paces beside it, hands deep in her coat pockets, boots beating the concrete, eyes scanning the area. Her breath fogs in the air. She’s been standing here too long, waiting. Not that she minds. She’s used to waiting. It’s part of the job.

Her phone buzzes.

DING. A text. From Kate.

“We’re coming out.”

Yelena exhales slowly, controlled. Slips behind the wheel, loops the SUV around the block. The headlights hit the restaurant’s main entrance just as the door swings open. Flawless timing.

Kate and Eleanor step out into the glow of the streetlamps. Both clearly overserved with their flushed cheeks, glassy eyes, wine-loose shoulders. Laughter edged with wine and weightlessness, like they don’t remember who’s watching. The paps haven’t left. Their lenses gleam like the eyes of predators.

Yelena clocks them all in half a second. Same group as when they arrived. Same angles. Same lenses. Lurking.

Shit.

She moves. With urgency. She’s up the stairs in three silent strides. Slides into Kate’s space breaking into their conversation by leaning in to murmur into her ear. Low. Her lips almost grazing Kate’s lobe.

“Cameras. At four o’clock.”

Kate nods. Tries to straighten. Fails and sways instead. She covers it by leaning into Yelena’s side. Casual. Yelena catches her. One hand on the small of her back, the other guiding. Yelena always guides. To anyone watching, it looks professional. Practiced. It’s neither.

The flashes explode as they hit the sidewalk. Yelena’s body shifts instinctively, always between Kate and chaos. Eleanor lingers, oblivious or indifferent. Kate turns to hug her.

“I’ll let you know what weekend I’m off when the schedule’s clearer. I got a two-bedroom this time.”

Eleanor cups her cheek. “Have fun. I love you.”

They hug again. Cameras snap. Blinding.

Eleanor climbs into the car the valet hands over. Yelena opens the passenger door. Helps Kate in. The door closes with a click.

Yelena rounds the front, slides in behind the wheel, starts the car. Drives. The paps follow.

Silence fills the car.

Kate leans her head back. Watches the rearview flashes die out as they gain distance.

“You know what’s wild?” Kate asks. Quieter. Rough-edged. Like she’s thinking out loud but too aware of the listener. “I can sell out Madison Square Garden, headline a billion-dollar franchise, and get mobbed in every continent…but I still can’t get my mother to admit she hated my last album.”

Yelena arches her brow, doesn’t answer right away.

“She said that?”

Kate scoffs.

“No. She just made that face. The one that says ‘I’m so proud of you, but also, I raised you better than to rhyme ecstasy with me.’”

Yelena almost smiles. But doesn’t. Not really. Her eyes stay on the road.

She doesn’t comment on Kate’s tone. Or overwhelming sadness emanating from Kate. Or the quiet hollow behind her eyes. Yelena knows what this is. Knows Kate’s deflection tactics better than anyone by now. Knows her brain is spinning because she’s been off-kilter since the late-night talk show interview earlier. Knows the weight of what the smug host said. She saw the way Kate’s face froze when he ran a montage reel of her exes and followed it up with the world’s most unoriginal question:

“So…who’s keeping your bed warm now?”

Kate had smiled on cue. Said something clever. Forgettable. Something that wouldn’t make headlines. She hadn’t looked at Yelena once since then. Now, here they are.

Now Kate does. A side glance. Long. Measured. Weighted with something she doesn’t yet dare say.

“You’re ignoring me.”

“I’m working.” Yelena’s voice is clean. Flatline steady.

“Well I say you’re off the clock then.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re still mine to worry about.”

Kate huffs and looks away. Back to the window. Much too histrionic. That hangs between them. Lingering. Unbearably loud even in the stillness. Something catches in her chest. Her expression shifts.

“You don’t have to worry about me.” Yelena doesn’t argue with that statement. That would mean she cares. That would mean it’s real. The silence sprawls. Heavy. Brittle. Kate fills the silence again. She always does. This time, she cuts through it with a quiet spark of rebellion. “You ever think about how weird this is?”

“Define ‘this’.”

“All of it.” A vague wave of her hand. “This world. The way you ended up here. The way I…fuck it, I don’t know. I’m spiraling.”

“You’re tired.”

“I’m always tired.”

“That’s because you work yourself like a rented mule.”

Kate barks a laugh. Quick and involuntary.

“My mom used to say that.”

“Your mother is a smart woman.”

“She likes you. Thinks you’re good at this. Says I ‘listen’ to you.”

“You don’t.”

“I do. A little.”

“You argue with me. All the time. About everything.”

Kate grins. But it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I like the way you argue.”

Yelena doesn’t take the bait. Kate studies her like she’s trying to memorize the things she’s not allowed to touch. She looks at Yelena the way you look at something you’re afraid of loving.

“You’re tense.”

“I’m Russian.”

Kate smiles. It’s real this time. At least for half a second.

“You were jealous.” It’s not a question.

“Of what?” Yelena’s fingers tighten on the wheel.

“The ex montage.”

Yelena takes her eyes off the road to look at her. Eyes unreadable.

“Why would I be?”

Kate tilts her head.

“Because I looked hot in all those clips.”

“You’re always fishing, Kate Bishop.”

“Because you never bite.”

There it is. The shift. The snap. The drop in oxygen. Something hangs suspended between them, electric and raw.

They stare at each other, something taut. A live wire dangling between them. Humming with every second that passes. Invisible but impossible to ignore. Ignored but continuously sparking. It’s always been there between them. Since the first day Yelena was assigned to her. Since later that afternoon, when Kate stepped onto a red carpet in that now-iconic silver gown and turned to find the woman in black standing just behind her, scanning the crowd like she already knew which face would be the threat. It had unnerved Kate. The steadiness. The way Yelena didn’t blink.

Kate cracked a joke, like she always does when feelings overwhelm.

“It’s not a real threat unless they have a podcast.”

Yelena had remained absolutely deadpan when she replied with: “You talk a lot.”

It should’ve been a dismissal. Instead, it was the beginning. Kate had smiled. And she hadn’t stopped since.

Now, months later…in this car, that same gravity pulls at them. Charged silence, hot and magnetic. Kate shifts. Her hand moves to the back of Yelena’s headrest. Fingers digging in. Close enough to graze.

“You’re doing it again,” Yelena says, eyes still on the road.

“Doing what?”

“Pushing.”

Kate leans back against her headrest, gaze locked on Yelena. Her smile curves slow. Dangerous.

“And you’re pulling. That’s the game, isn’t it? I push. You pull. We keep circling until one of us snaps.”

Yelena white-knuckles the wheel. Barely perceptible, but Kate notices. She always notices.

Neither one says what they both know: the snapping point is close. It always is when they’re alone. A near unbearable amount of emotional gasoline waiting to combust. The car keeps moving, but they’re not going anywhere. Not really. Not yet.

They turn into the driveway of Kate’s Los Angeles home. Yelena rolls down the window, nods at the guard. The gate swings open. Kate turns to look at her.

“You think you could handle me?”

No response. The car stops. Yelena gets out. Walks around. Opens Kate’s door like protocol dictates. Tonight, not a single damn thing happening inside Yelena is following protocol. Kate rolls her eyes and steps out, but doesn’t walk away.

They’re inches apart now. Closer than usual. Closer than allowed.

“I’m not scared of you.” Kate declares.

“You should be.” Yelena’s eyes darken.

“You’re not dangerous.”

“Yes. I am.” Yelena retorts.

Kate doesn’t back down. Steps forward instead.

“You’re not going to hurt me.”

“I need you to go inside so I can go home.”

Kate lifts her hand. Not touching. Hovering beside Yelena’s cheek. Fingers twitch.

“You keep saying no with your mouth…but your eyes are begging to shut me up.”

Yelena’s jaw clenches. Breath hitches. Kate leans in. A hair from her lips. Just their breath now. Just the static hum of something inevitable.

“Tell me to stop.” Yelena doesn’t move. Kate doesn’t kiss her. Just brushes her nose against Yelena’s. A ghost of contact. A test of boundaries. “Tell me to stop.” Again. Softer. Meaner.

A heartbeat passes. Yelena’s lips part. The breath between them sharpens.

“Good night, Miss Bishop.”

Kate steps back. Smirks like she’s won anyway. Walks to the door. Doesn’t look back.

Not once.

//

Days Later.

They’re in Vancouver now. It’s the kind of grey day that seeps into your bones. Rain taps at the windows, a constant drumming, blurring the streetlights into a watercolor smear. Kate’s been filming nights…long, cold, brutal…so days dissolve into blackout curtains, crumpled scripts, and the occasional IV drip when she forgets to eat again. Her body is running on caffeine, protein bars, and whatever residual fury’s keeping her upright.

It’s another night shoot. Yelena yawns in a beat-up camping chair she dragged next to the trailer’s door. Her hoodie’s zipped halfway up, sleeves shoved past her elbows, a slim paperback in Russian balanced across her thigh. She hasn’t turned a page in ten minutes.

The trailer behind her is absurdly upscale. Leather seating, a gas fireplace Kate’s assistant decided to light for "vibe," granite counters no one touches, a stocked fridge no one opens. It smells like lavender cleaner. It’s unnervingly clean. And uncomfortably quiet.

The door creaks open. Kate pops out in leggings and a hoodie with the franchise’s logo plastered over her chest. Her hair’s scraped up. Her face bare. She looks real in a way she never does on set. She’s holding a script. Still warm from the printer.

“I need you.”

Yelena doesn’t even glance up from her book. “For?”

“Just…come in here.”

There’s something in Kate’s tone. Raw at the edge, quiet underneath. Yelena huffs, folds the corner of her page with military precision, and rises. She moves like she’s bracing for something. She always does when it’s Kate.

She steps inside the trailer. Closes the door behind her.

Kate’s pacing. Not performatively. Just kinetic. Restless in her own skin. A bomb in motion.

“I think the rewrites made it worse,” she mutters, half to herself, like she’s trying not to ask for validation out loud.

“I’m sure they did.” Yelena retorts, leaning against the door.

Kate stops mid-stride. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve seen what you’ve shot…”

“That’s very supportive.”

“I’m not here to be supportive. I’m here to keep people from kidnapping you.”

“Romantic.”

“You want romance, call that weird grip. He doesn’t take his eyes off you.”

Kate snorts. Heads to the fridge. Opens it. Stares. Closes it again. Too quick. She doesn’t actually want anything.

“Why are you always like this?”

“Like what?”

“This.” She gestures, vague but loaded. “You’re always just… unbothered. Like none of it matters.”

“It doesn’t.”

Kate crosses her arms, leans against the counter. Eyes narrowing.

“You’re such a dick.”

“Correct.”

They fall quiet again. The air electrifies. Static in the space between them.

Kate watches her. Really watches her. The way her hair is slicked back, not a strand out of place. The clean arches of her cheekbones. The way her hands are tucked just behind her, fingers flexing against the door handle. The gleam of raindrops on the fabric of her pants. And her…Yelena…impossibly still. Unmoved. Or pretending to be.

“I’m trying to decide if I like you,” Kate declares, deceptively playful. Dangerous, in the way someone leans too far off a ledge just to see if gravity will take them.

“Don’t strain yourself.”

It should end there. Another round of sparring. Just that thing they do. The usual edge-of-something banter they’re too proud to name. Just enough bite to keep the space charged, never enough to name it. But something’s changed. But Kate’s tired. Not tired like needs a nap. Tired like something raw’s been rubbed open too long.

Kate crosses the room. Swiftly. Stops in front of Yelena. Close. Closer than comfort allows. Yelena doesn't move an inch.

“You’re in my bubble,” Yelena utters, low.

“I don’t think I like not knowing what you think of me.”

“You already know.”

“No. I don’t. I think you maybe tolerate me. I think you want to push me away but can’t. I think you think this is a job.”

“It IS a job, Kate.”

Kate holds her gaze. Searching. Digging. The kind of look you don’t give someone you’re pretending not to want.

Yelena’s fingers flick the handle behind her, flips it open. Never taking her eyes off Kate. Kate leans forward. Pulls the door shut again. Yelena glares.

“You’ve never asked the real question,” Kate adds.

“What’s the real question?” Yelena’s voice drops a register. Gravel and hesitation.

“What do you want me to be?”

Yelena’s chest tightens. She straightens. Reflex. Posture as defense. An intimidation tactic. Unfortunately for her, even with her bare feet, Kate is still looking down at her. Still unyielding.

Hardly any space between them. The air shifts. Kate can smell her. Faint musk, clean linen, something sharp and green beneath it. Familiar. Unsafe. They’re chest to chest now. Neither backs away.

“You want me to say it? You want me to say I think about it?” Kate whispers. Yelena doesn’t blink. Doesn’t move. Her lungs stall. “Because I do. Every day. Every fucking day since the first time I heard you laugh.”

“I’m not one of your toys, Kate.”

“I don’t want you to be. I’ve never asked for that.”

“You’re reckless.”

Kate nods once. Firm.

“Maybe. But I’m not lying. Not now.”

“You’re shaking,” Yelena adds, nonchalant.

“So are you.”

They stare. Raw. Stripped. Both wild-eyed. Breath ragged.

“I need you to step back, Kate,” Yelena demands, but her voice betrays her. It wavers.

“I don’t care.”

“I do. I don’t play games. Whenever I do things, they mean something.”

“I want it to.”

A beat. Yelena opens the door again.

“I’m going back to my book.”

Kate’s heart stutters. Her lips part.

“Don’t run.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re leaving.”

“I’m going back to my book,” Yelena repeats, more firmly this time.

She turns. Moves down the steps without looking back.

Kate sees her sit back down on her little chair and open her book as the door swings closed. Exactly where she was before. In the chair. Face blank.

Through the little door window, Kate watches the page Yelena had folded is still dog-eared. But she’s not reading. Not really. Neither of them is doing what they’re supposed to.

They're both still there. Still stuck on the same sentence.

//

Five days later.

Yelena smokes. A rare indulgence. A reminder that she’s still human beneath the layers of discipline and duty. The other bodyguard beside her is ex-military. She guesses Air Force from the posture. They’re deep into some conversation only people who’ve fired the same rifle for over a decade can have. The kind that involves ballistics data and acronyms no civilian would recognize.

Yelena listens with half her attention, nodding occasionally, pretending not to scan the exit.

Then she hears it. The sharp, unmistakable click of expensive heels on marble. That particular rhythm…cocky, intoxicated, stubborn. She could recognize that exact gate even in a riot. It cuts through the drone of city noise like a metronome.

Yelena doesn’t turn. Doesn’t need to. Her body already knows.

She drops the cigarette. Grinds it out with the heel of her boot. Taps the other bodyguard once on the shoulder. A silent goodbye. Moves. No words. No warning. Just pivots on instinct and starts walking just as Kate emerges.

Yelena meets Kate at the top of the venue steps.

There’s a rustle. A half-trip. A muffled thud. Then Kate’s voice, pitched high and petulant. Whiny. Velveted with exhaustion.

“I’m firing Sam. Just so we’re clear.”

Yelena’s mouth twitches.

“Again?”

“Why the fuck would she say yes to this when she knows I had a fitting, then a full day on set? Who hates feet that much?” Kate grumbles as she leans against Yelena’s shoulder, one leg bent like a flamingo as she kicks off one shoe. Then the other. The sound of stilettos hitting concrete is weirdly intimate.

Without hesitation, Yelena bends down to pick the shoes. Then her free hand flies to Kate’s back, steadying her.

“You say that like it wasn’t your idea.”

“It’s her job to say no to my dumb ideas.”

“Yeah… that’s impossible.”

Yelena opens the car door with one hand, her other still at Kate’s waist. She gets her into the SUV with practiced ease.

Kate groans as she drops into the seat, melting into the leather like it might absorb the exhaustion out of her bones. She smells like champagne, sweat, smoke. Her lipstick’s smudged near her jaw. There’s glitter on her collarbone like a constellation.

Yelena gets in. Starts the car. Drives.

This has played out like so many other nights before. It’s muscle memory by now. This part is routine too. The post-event unravel. Kate Bishop, media-trained to a knife’s edge, peeling herself down to something real. The quiet shedding of performance. Yelena knows the rhythm of this Kate. Not the brand or the persona anymore. Just a human. Squishier around the edges, sharp when provoked, perilous only if you think you’re immune to her.

They don’t speak for the first few blocks. Kate’s halfway asleep, slouched, legs splayed, head tilted like she might tip over.

Yelena should be focusing on the road. She isn’t. Her eyes flick to Kate in the rearview. Then away. Again. Then away.

The tension’s been there for months. Brewing slow. Slipping through cracks and codes. It lives in the stolen glances that linger too long. In the silences that stretch just one beat past appropriate. In the places Kate touches Yelena. Wrist, waist, shoulder. Like she’s trying to figure out which part she’s not allowed to hold.

Tonight? Something’s different.

Maybe it’s the irresponsible amount of drinks Kate didn’t pace. Maybe it’s the way exhaustion is forcing Yelena’s own restraint to fray to the point it’s near impossible to pretend she doesn’t feel whatever the fuck this is too. Maybe it’s the way Yelena caught Kate brazenly staring down at her from one of the mansion’s balconies earlier. Kate was up there…in red silk, perched above the party, laughing at nothing, some guy at her elbow. Too close. Too eager.

Yelena had watched from the street. Fingers fisted as she fought the urge to rush up and throw the dude over the railing when he touched Kate’s waist. Kate didn’t smile. He kept moving in. She kept pushing him away. Not entirely playfully. Yelena had wanted to hurt him. Not because she’s Kate’s bodyguard. It was…something else. Something more primal.

But Yelena didn’t rush in. Because that’s not her place. Kate is inside, up there. Where she should be. And Yelena is outside. Where she belongs. Two very different lives. Two completely different realities.

Kate is in and out of sleep as they drive. Yelena pulls into the garage of the three-story mansion Kate’s rented for the duration of production.

Kate startles awake when Yelena’s door slams shut. Seconds later, her door swings open. Kate looks at Yelena, half-lidded, hazy eyes and a lazy drunk grin painted on her face.

“I’m hungry…I could eat an entire cow.” Kate announces.

Yelena helps Kate and her wobbly limbs out of the car and into the house. Doesn’t acknowledge the comment. Yelena gets her as far as the two steps past the door. The second Kate is through the threshold, Yelena turns around. Kate hears Yelena’s steps getting further. Turns to look at her. Confused.

“Where are you going?”

“It’s three in the morning, Kate. I’m going to my hotel to sleep.”

“I’m hungry.”

“Order something.”

“It’s three in the morning. Nothing’s open.”

“Call Sam. Make her figure it out.” Yelena keeps walking.

“Sam’s asleep.”

“Kate, what do you want from me?” Yelena stops and spins, aggravated.

Silence.

Then, small. “I’m hungry.” A beat. “…I want pasta.”

No movement. No sound. Just the two of them staring at each other, the echo of something unsaid hanging in the air.

“Fine. I’ll make it myself.” Kate walks away from the garage door. Leaves it wide open.

Yelena watches her go. Watches her sway down the hallway. Pathetic. Drunk. Barely standing. Her dress rides just enough with each step to flash skin. Her hair’s falling out of its pin. She looks like trouble. And it woul dbe irresponsible to let her go anywhere near an open flame.

“I need a fucking raise.” Yelena mutters. Then louder: “Do NOT go anywhere near that stove, Kate.”

She climbs the stairs two at a time. Finds Kate sprawled on the couch, silly drunk smile on her face.

“You’re making me pasta,” Kate slurs.

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

Kate rolls over. Now facing the ceiling. Her dress is wrecked. Her skin flushed. Hair messy. Dress wrinkled. The neckline has shifted just enough to reveal the edge of something see-through underneath. Lace, maybe. Very deliberately worn. Yelena doesn’t let her eyes linger.

“You always stand like that.”

“Like what?” Yelena asks, visibly annoyed while she collects things from cupboards and cabinets.

“Back straight. Feet flat. Like you’re waiting for an ambush.”

“I’m trained for one.”

“There’s no threat here.”

“That’s what everyone says before something goes wrong.”

Kate sits up. The alcohol haze is thinning. What’s left is heavier. Calmer. Hungrier. She studies Yelena. A beat. Then another. Her voice is quiet when she speaks again.

“You always this careful?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t have to with me.”

Yelena doesn’t answer. Kate stands. Bare feet on tile. There’s a flush rising to her cheeks, but it’s not from wine. She closes the distance slowly. Her presence fills the room like heat.

“You know you’re the only person in my life who doesn’t ask for anything?”

“I’m literally paid to be here.”

“You’re not paid to care.”

“And I don’t.”

“Liar.” Kate’s smile is utterly disarming.

Yelena opens the fridge. not because she needs anything from it right this second, but because it’s something to do with her hands. Just to put something between them. She grabs a Tupperware. Cheese. Grated.

Behind her: silence. Then more footsteps. Then the air thickens. Kate’s warmth, close. Her breath, closer.

“I watched you tonight. From the balcony.”

“I know.”

“You never look away anymore.” Yelena keeps working in silence. “I wore this dress for you.”

Yelena doesn’t turn around.

“It’s a dress.”

“It’s backless.”

“I noticed.”

“Did you?”

Kate moves even closer. Yelena can feel her. Yelena spins on her heels. Kate is closer than she realized. She is…right there. One step and their eyelashes would touch. More bare skin than not. Pink lips, gap between them. The curve of her neck exposed like a dare. Kate smirks, too casual to be actually casual.

“Kate…”

“I’m not a kid.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

“You act like I am. Like I’m going to break if you touch me.”

“I don’t.”

“You do. Why?”

A silence sharp enough to cut.

“Because it’s not my job to touch you.”

“But you want to.”

It’s not a question. Yelena loathes when Kate does that. Assume. Like she knows her. It’s even more irritating because she’s never wrong.

Yelena breathes in. Exhales. Centers herself.

“Kate, don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I like my job. I need my job. Some of us actually have to look at our bank accounts. I’m not blowing it for some rich girl whim.”

Kate laughs. It’s short, tired, but not cruel.

“You think I’m reckless. Spoiled. Impulsive. Used to getting my way.”

“You said it, not me.”

Kate closes the last inch. Her fingers skim Yelena’s jacket.

“What if I told you I’ve thought about this longer than you have? What if I told you I’ve been waiting for you to catch up?” Kate whispers against Yelena’s lips.

Green eyes meet blue.

“You’re drunk.”

“I was. I’m not now.”

Yelena’s heart thunders in her chest. Loud enough she’s afraid Kate might be able to hear it.

“We can’t…”

Kate’s hands slip under the hem of Yelena’s jacket. Her palms rest against Yelena’s ribs. No pressure. Just heat. Intention.

“You’re so goddamn stubborn. Stop pretending you don’t want this.”

“It’s not about wanting.”

“Then what is it?”

“This is my job.”

“You think I don’t know that? But I also feel your eyes on me. All the time. On the carpet. On set. In the studio. You look at me when you think I’m asleep. I never am. You watch me and pretend you’re not memorizing every inch. You also say my name different than anyone else’s. Sometimes I call you just to see that look on your face when you walk into a room and find me. Tough guy goes all soft.”

Beat.

“You’re not the center of the universe, Kate.”

“No. But I am yours.”

“I’m not one of your little fans.”

“I don’t want you tobe. I just want you to stop pretending this isn’t killing us.”

There’s a pause. A silence that stretches. Then Yelena leans in. It almost feels like it’s going to happen. Kate braces for it.

Kate’s hands move. One slides up, brushing Yelena’s collarbone. Thumb at the base of her neck. She’s shaking. Just slightly. But Yelena feels it. All of it.

Then…Yelena whispers.

“Make your own pasta, Miss Bishop.”

And then she backs away, heads for the door without another word. Kate doesn’t move. The door closes. And for a long time, Kate just stands there. Heart pounding. Alone in a house full of heat. And no pasta.

[rottencherrypie]

R-18+; Milk (Sub!Kili x Dom!Reader)

Summary - Kili drains your tits.

Warnings - Smut (leans more spice imo), language, reader can lactate, lactophilia, breastfeeding kink, sub!Kili, dom!Reader, fem!Reader, sub/dom dynamics, mommy kink, reader is called Mommy, name calling (Kili is called a slut), mention of a cock cage, implied pet play, grinding/dry humping (Kili humps the reader's leg), mention of male genitalia (Kili), mention of breasts (reader), mentions of nipples (reader), brief humiliation kink (Kili), Kili whimpers, and a partridge in a pear tree.

Pronouns & POV - None, third-person

Word Count - 900+

A/N - Sub!Kili has made a comeback! I am still in the midst of a writer's block, hence why I did not post last week, and am a tad sick awaiting a period so I made this? I am working on a masterlist and realized I have not written for Kili much, so I wanted to have another little something to add on for his section. The reader does not have any defining traits other than tits and soft lips. I am also trying out a new header and divider so I hope you all like it! It took me a while to figure it out. Pure smut below.

Read on Wattpad Read on AO3

A pleased hum vibrated against your sensitive nipple as the suction continued, though the cheek that leaned firmly into the fullness of your milk-filled teet was not a babe. No, instead of a cute little babe, it was the second dwarven prince of Erebor, your beloved little pet.

The lids of his amber-colored eyes had fluttered shut the moment his lips encased the sensitivity of your nipple, the weight upon his shoulders seeming to ease away for a moment as the sweetness of your milk flooded his mouth. Not too salty, not too sweet: utter perfection.

A string of varied sounds vibrated against your breast—some moans, some whimpers, yet all sounded so utterly and adorably pathetic.

As the life-sustaining liquid continued to fill the dwarf's mouth, coating his tongue with your delicious flavor, his hips mindlessly bucked against your thigh. Gliding back and forth upon the length, sliding back to the edge of your knee before bucking back as he continuously swallowed your milk. You could feel how his cock twitched and throbbed with each mouthful he downed.

It was as if the dwarf was in a world of his own. Completely entranced by the taste of your milk, as if it had enveloped him entirely—similar to how his lips and tongue enveloped your tit.

His aching cock continued to throb and twitch as he greedily gulped down another mouthful, his calloused hand grasping at your free breast as he whimpered eagerly for more as the weight of which his lips surrounded began to lighten.

"Aww, you want more?" The question left your lips in a teasing coo, knowing the dwarven prince would do anything you said if it meant another sip of the liquid gold from your breast.

The weight of his head shifted, now bobbing into your draining breast as his amber-colored eyes fluttered open. The size of his pupils enlarged, making his gaze appear even more puppy-like as he whimpered with your tit still between his lips.

"Please." The word was muffled partially upon the fat of your tit; the lids of his eyes grew heavy as the suction of his lips eased. It was clear the dwarf thought you would cave to his pathetic plea. But he thought wrong. "And you believe you earned more of my milk by fucking my leg like a dog?" Your words came out harsher than intended, and for a brief moment, you wondered if you had been too cruel—until you felt his cock twitch against your thigh. The dirty little whore.

"I—" The words died upon his tongue, or rather your breast, as the dwarf attempted to find a way to excuse his lewd acts. "I am sorry." He trailed off, his lips detaching from your breast as the heat of his calloused hand left your other.

"You are sorry, what?" You questioned, your tone dripped with assertion as you leaned your chest towards him, taunting him with what he so desperately craved. "Say it right, cunt." The words left your soft lips in a commanding snarl, causing the weight of his cock to twitch against your thigh yet again.

"I am so sorry, mommy." Though the words left his lips in a humiliated quiver, the size of his pupils dilated further. What a pathetic little slut.

A mocking laugh rumbled within your chest. "Aww, look at that," As you began, your hand glid up from the dwarf's toned lower back to his auburn locks, tangling within the smooth strands in a firm grasp. "he can be a good boy." The purred praise was quickly masked by the dwarf's surprised hiss in pain as you tugged at the soft strands, the stinging sensation making his aching cock harden further. The tip was now a purple-ish red tone, as it leaked with creamy white tears as his hips subtly jutted forward, desperately seeking relief.

"Ah, ah, ah." You tutted, snagging at the auburn strands further, forcing his head to the side—exposing the various marks you had left upon the crook of his neck the week prior. "You are going to be a good boy for mommy and drain her tits without fucking yourself like a hound in heat on my leg." You spoke sternly, yet the corners of your lips curved up in a grin, enjoying how pathetic the dwarven prince was under your control.

"But—" The prince began to speak, but you did not allow him to get another word out. "No buts or I'll put your cock back in its cage." A threat that sent a shiver down the dwarf's spine, knowing that you would act upon it as his cock is always kept within it when he is not of use to you.

"Now, drain my tits," You spoke as you leaned forwards, the nipple of your heavier tit grazing against his thin lips. "and perhaps I will consider draining your balls if you do a good job." "Yes, mommy!" The dwarf's eager words nearly masked the end of your sentence, his thin lips quick to part open to encase your nipple, yet he was smart enough to wait for your command.

"And?" The expectant question hung heavy within the chilled air, air which nipped at your nipples, hardening them further as they waited to be encased by the dwarf's hungry mouth. "Thank you, mommy." He spoke sheepishly, the corners of his lips curved upwards in a lopsided grin, the same stupid grin you had fallen for.

"Good." You nodded, the tension of your grasp eased from his hair as yet the weight of your hand remained on the back of his head. "Now hurry before I change my mind." A command that did not need repetition, as the dwarf's lips quickly encased your tit—draining it like the good little pet he is.