#his development is from prey to predator | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

doumadono · 9 months ago

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Warnings: smut w/o plot, Bakugo jacking off, se*ual fantasies, male orgasm, ejaculation

Summary: you're Bakugo's roommate, and although you hardly ever interact, Katsuki secretly develops intense feelings for you. Unable to gather the courage to confess, he silently admires you from a distance — until the day he stumbles upon your OnlyFans account

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II

Living with Bakugo Katsuki was always an unpredictable ride. He was a walking firestorm - intense, brash, and always on the edge of exploding. But after a few months of sharing an apartment with him, you’d come to realize something: Bakugo wasn’t just a chaos incarnate. He was meticulous, sometimes even thoughtful, and despite his rough edges, he’d never once crossed any boundaries.

You’d gotten the room through your mutual friend, Kirishima, and Bakugo had agreed reluctantly.

From the very beginning, he’d kept his distance - never really speaking unless necessary, and most of the time he stayed in his room, went on missions or trained late into the night.

You could feel his eyes on you sometimes, though, watching silently, like a predator sizing up his prey. But whenever you looked, he was back to his usual aloof self.

What you didn’t know was that Bakugo was harboring a dangerous attraction to you. He’d never admit it, not to you, and definitely not to himself. You were out of his league. Too sweet, too gorgeous, and the very idea of being vulnerable enough to confess his feelings made him grit his teeth in frustration. He'd fantasized about you countless times though - his imagination running wild with ideas of what it would feel like to claim you. But he buried those desires deep, thinking you'd never look at him the way he wanted.

That was, until one night.

Bakugo had come home late from a mission, exhausted but restless. After a shower, he threw himself onto his bed and mindlessly scrolled through his phone, his thumb hovering over the OnlyFans app. He opened it to unwind, expecting to see the usual faces he followed.

Katsuki wasn’t the type to do things halfway. Whether it was in battle or in bed, he always gave everything he had. He liked control, craved it, and when it came to sex, that desire for dominance only amplified.There was something about seeing his girls completely undone - driven to the point of exhaustion, their minds hazy and bodies twitching from overstimulation - that made his blood rush straight to his meaty, veiny cock. He loved it. Loved fucking them stupid, pushing them until they were too weak to even move, taking them apart piece by piece until they were nothing more than a quivering, overstimulated mess. He'd fuck them hard, in the deepest, most mind-numbing positions that left them gasping for air, so lost in the pleasure that they couldn’t think straight. And when he was done, when he was satisfied and had cum deep inside them, he’d sit back and admire his work - the way his cum would slowly dribble out of their abused, slippery holes, their bodies so spent they couldn’t even squirm at the discomfort. That sight alone was enough to make him hard all over again.

Not everyone could keep up with him. He knew that. His sex drive was relentless, and sometimes, it was easier to find that satisfaction elsewhere - somewhere he didn’t have to hold back or deal with the aftermath. Because that was the thing about Bakugo Katsuki - he didn’t just fuck. He conquered.

That’s why he liked OnlyFans. It was a place where he could explore the things that got him going without any strings attached.

Bakugo liked to watch. He followed plenty of girls there who reminded him of the kind of sex he liked to have - the ones who weren’t afraid to push their limits, who would ride their toys until their legs were shaking, their eyes fluttering in that tell-tale sign of pleasure that had turned to something far more intense. The girls who let him imagine fucking them so stupid, until they couldn’t even think, until all they could do was huff and puff his name into the mattress, their bodies boneless, overwhelmed, claimed his.

Upon spotting a familiar figure suggested in his feed, he felt his entire body go rigid.

It was you.

No fucking way, he thought to himself, eyes wide in disbelief. There you were, posing in a barely-there lace bra and panties, your lips curved into a teasing smile. You looked so different - so confident, so seductive - nothing like the girl he passed by in the hallway every day. His cock immediately stirred, blood rushing south as he continued to stare, unable to believe his eyes.

Bakugo's mind raced, trying to process the image. You had an OnlyFans? Fuck, that’s hot. The realization hit him like a truck - he could actually watch you, see more of you than he'd ever imagined.

Without thinking, he subscribed, and a moment later, a notification popped up: “New subscriber: ExplosiveKing.”

His cock twitched at the sight of your next photo - a close-up of your tits spilling out of the lacey bra, your nipples hard and pushing against the fabric. Then came a greeting message, and Bakugo almost dropped his phone when he saw it.

Thanks for subscribing, handsome ♡ Hope you enjoy the content!

You even attached a photo of you in nothing but a thong, your ass up and face turned towards the camera with a playful wink.

He groaned softly, his cock already straining against his boxers as he stared at the image, replaying every interaction you two had ever had. All the tension, all the moments he pushed away, came rushing back in an overwhelming wave of desire. His dick was dribbling more precum into boxers, the fabric going from damp to soaked quickly as he feverishly sought his release.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, already palming himself through his Kalvin Clein boxers. His left hand reached down, cupping his dick through his pants. "Nnnnhhh," he couldn't stop the soft and breathy moan that escaped him as he flipped his dick up, into a more comfortable position. His hips were already pushing forward, into his hand. He needed more.

His fingers fumbled as he tugged his boxers down, needing relief as he gripped his length, hard and throbbing. His breathing grew heavy, and within seconds, his rough hand was wrapped around his cock, the image of your perfect ass burning in his mind. He pumped himself slowly at first, his imagination running wild. He couldn’t stop thinking about how you lived just a few feet away from him, and here he was, jerking off to your nudes.

"Shit, you're perfect," he muttered under his breath, eyes glued to the screen as he pumped his cock. He imagined your hands on him instead, the way your soft lips would feel against the tight skin on his rock-hard cock, the sound of your breathy, sloppy moans in his ear. His grip tightened, matching the pace of his fantasy, biting his lip to muffle the groan threatening to escape.

As he stroked himself faster, the guilt began to fade, replaced by raw, animalistic desire. You’d never know. And hell, if you were posting this shit for other guys to see, then why not him?

It didn’t take long before he was groaning your name under his breath, imagining you on top of him, your tight body grinding down on his cock. The idea of having you - right there, in the flesh - made his pulse race. His fist moved faster, eyes squeezed shut as he pictured the way you’d look riding him, those soft lips of yours gasping for breath as he filled you up with his meaty dick.

His imagination ran wild - your pretty face, your tits bouncing as he fucked you senseless, the way you’d cry his name. That thought alone sent him spiraling, his cock twitching. With a low growl, Bakugo came hard, hot ropes of cum spilling onto his hand as he panted, chest heaving. He kept pumping, riding the high of his orgasm, but even as the pleasure subsided, he couldn't get you out of his head.

For a moment, guilt flickered in the back of his mind again. You were his roommate. Hell, you were always so nice to him, always sweet and considerate. And here he was, jerking off to your pics in secret. But as his phone buzzed with a new notification, that guilt quickly dissolved into something primal.

You had just started a live stream.

Bakugo's cock twitched in his hand again as he opened your stream.

You were sitting on your bed, wearing a cute little lingerie set that clung to your body in all the right ways, thigh-high stockings completing the look. His breath caught in his throat as he watched you adjust the camera, giving everyone a perfect view of your body. "Hey, cuties!" you chirped happily, the camera lighting up with your playful smile as more viewers trickled in. "Hope you're ready for some fun tonight!"

ExplosiveKing: Damn, doll, you look fucking amazing tonight

"Aw, thank you, ExplosiveKing!" you giggled, reading his comment. "So sweet of you to join!"

Hearing you say his username in that sexy, cheerful voice of yours set something off in him. His eyes darkened with lust as he started stroking his slobbery cock again, the thought of you calling out to him making him harder than ever.

You started off slow, teasing your viewers with gentle touches, running your hands over your body as you spoke sweetly to them. But when you pulled out the vibrator, Bakugo nearly lost it. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his pulse racing as he watched you slip the toy between your legs, letting out soft moans as you teased yourself.

He couldn't take his eyes off you. Every little gasp, every roll of your hips - it was driving him wild. He matched your pace, fucking his fist like he was fucking you, imagining how your pussy would feel clenching around him.

Then, as if reading his mind, you slid the vibrator inside your already sopping pussy, your breath hitching as you moaned for your audience.

Bakugo bit his lip hard, stroking himself faster as he imagined what it’d be like to have you under him, begging for his cock. His grip tightened, pumping his length in time with your movements, chasing that high again.

It happened so quickly that his brain barely registered the exact moment.

His cum surged up through his throbbing, overstimulated cock in powerful spurts, spilling and bubbling from the slick, swollen tip, leaving a thick trail of pearly semen coating his hand and seeping through his fingers as Katsuki moaned your name.

The young man fervently hoped you hadn’t overheard him from your bedroom.

Weeks passed, and Bakugo’s obsession with you only grew. He watched every stream, donated more than anyone else, and even bought his first sex toy - a pocket pussy - just to mimic fucking you when you used your toys on camera. Every Wednesday and Friday became his ritual. He’d lock himself in his room, pull out his laptop, and jerk off until his cock was raw and spent. Sometimes he'd cum three or four times in a single stream, completely lost in the fantasy of you.

But as much as he enjoyed it, it started to get under his skin. The other men watching you, the ones leaving comments and drooling over you - it pissed him off. You were his. He hated knowing they were getting off to you too, even though you were right there, living with him, just down the hall.

One night, after one of your streams, you noticed something unusual - ExplosiveKing had donated more than usual.

There was a short comment attached to the donation:

"You have a way of getting under my skin like no one else. No matter how many others are watching, you’re mine in a way they’ll never understand."

And honestly? You didn’t mind. Among all your fans, he stood out as your favorite - dedicated, generous, and mysterious.

What you didn’t know, though, was that the man behind the screen was Katsuki Bakugo, your roommate. That the same explosive hero you lived with was jerking off to you multiple times a week, falling deeper into his secret obsession with every stream.

He wasn’t merely your biggest fan - he was the man who longed for you entirely to himself, who fantasized about fucking you dumb every time he heard your sweet voice. For now, Bakugo remained hidden in the shadows, silently worshiping you from his bedroom, awaiting the day he would muster the courage to reveal just how desperate he was to be your boyfriend.

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lazyneonrabbitt · 1 year ago

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The better girlfriend

Daryl Dixon x reader | SMUT🔞 [pt.1]

Having some alone time with Daryl in the woods was not as alone as you expected. But you won in the end so it was worth the drama.

It had been a good few months of being with Daryl and developing your relationship into the well oiled machine it had become these days.

Daryl had invited you to go hunting with him so you could spend some alone time away from the community, thinking the woods would be the best place to get some peace and quiet. Just the two of you in the vast greens of the forest.

There hadn't been many walkers around the area, to your luck, you thought. You had been dying to ask Daryl if he was willing to fuck you up against a tree, or at the edge of the lake when the weather allows for swimming.

"Look there." Daryl's hand found your shoulder to pull you in front of him, sandwiched between the large tree and his body. "Righ' there." His breath fanned your ear as his fingers pointed at an animal in the distance.

Or, you thought he was pointing at one, because you weren't seeing anything remotely resembling an animal in the direction of his fingers.

Were you truly that much of a sucky hunter?

"Dee, I don't see any--" The hand that pointed before dropped to your hip so he could grind against you.

"R'member ya sayin' ya watched. Was cuz ya were jealous, aint it?" His voice was low and gravely, barely above a whisper. "Lemme make this huntin' teip a lil' less boring for ya." The crossbow formerly in Daryl's hands was set on the ground, along with your bags, coats, anything but the pants pulled down to Daryl's thighs and the ones dangling from your leg.

"Tap me when yer legs don' want no more." With a swift lick of his lips he moved down to his knees and stuck his fave between your legs. His beard scraped your thighs and his tongue left a trail of heat in its wake. "Oh fuck, Daryl.."

Moving a leg for better acces Daryl now held you up with one hand on your hip and one on the back of your thigh as he lapped at you like he hadn't had a meal in weeks. "Hahh... ahh." You needed a hand up at your mouth to keep yourself from getting too loud. Daryl's wet, sloppy sounds were at least slightly muffled by the plush of your legs that you felt getting slicker by the second as they slowly started to buckle thr closer you got to your first orgasm of the day. Your hand found his hair, "Daryl.. close.." a harsh tug at the roots had Daryl tighten his grip on your hips and let out a vulgar moan against your clit, wrapping his lips back around it to finish you off. He made sure to lick you clean before pulling you down to his level and laying you down on the forest floor.

Daryl crawled over you, staring down at you like a predator ready to devour its prey. The lower half of his face still glitening with your slick and his thick cock dripping in anticipation.

"Looks like you enjoyed yourself too, dear." Your legs went to wrap around his ass and pull his down to you, feeling him press against your centre. Daryl sat up on his haunches to get a nice view of where his cock slowly pushed into your wet heat, rocking back and forth at a steady pace with his large hands on your hips and your legs wrapped around his waist.

Daryl only got a few rough thrusts in before feeling that familiar tug already, wanting to apologize for how short he'd last but the excitement of having you on his turf got the best of him. He finished without a warning, a loud, animalistic groan leaving him as he slumped forward. One hand landing right next to your head on the forest floor and his face inches from you, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath. He panted as he caught his breath, still semi hard inside of you making you want to squeeze your walls around him. Each little squeeze had him whimper, quickly falling to his elbows with his face in the crook of your neck. You could feel him getting hard fast, continuing to pant against your skin as his thrusts started to slowly pick up again. "You feel so good, Dee." Your hand found his hair and tangled your fingers into the strands, keeping his head in place as he rutted into you like an animal chasing its release.

"S'like heaven.." Daryl's entire world disappeared in that moment. There was just him and you, intertwined on a bed of leaves.

With Daryl's face buried in the crook of your neck it was your job to keep an eye on your surroundings, slowly moving your head towards the soft rustle of leaves that had you stare right into the eyes of the hag herself.

Daryl's ex stood further off between the trees with someone you barely recognised. With looking straight into the eyes of thr woman you put your hand back in Daryl's hair, tugging at the roots and earning a loud moan. Your heels dug deeper in Daryl's back, making him thrust even deeper, having you moaning out loud too. Daryl's hand moved in response, finding the closest piece of fabric to wipe his fingers on before moving his hand up to your face and stuffing two thick fingers between your lips to silence you.

All the while your eyes were still glued to hers.

Daryl had noticed nothing of the interaction by the time you returned all your attention to him, quietly whining you were close and getting a likeminded answer in return and not long after laying in each other's embrace, enjoying the afterglow and catching your breaths.

While you got wiped down and dressed you decided to give Daryl the much needed heads up. "Your lovely ex girlfriend and some douche walked by earlier."

Daryl's eyes moved to meet you as he buttoned up his shirt, lifting a brow as a dign to continue. "Yeah, so expect comments as soon as we see them back home."

An affirmative grunt was all you got in reply as you continued to get ready to move on again.

Your checkup along all of Daryl's traps became more of a repair session between cut ropes and raided traps. Not a single one was left untouched.

"No' only did they see us, they had ta break the damn traps too?" Daryl was quick to blame the two, seeing some were undone properly.

"Surprises me she actually listened for once, then. She remembered how to undo this kind." While you busied yourself setting the trap up properly again, Daryl was a few treea down entirely re-stringing one that got cut down in order to take the animal out. "Bet they're back home lyin' their asses off with stolen game."

There was venom in his tone. Daryl had only a few rules when it came to his work in the woods and normally everyone kept to those.

"Rick will know they took it, he'll call them out on their shit."

Your offer to go fishing was denied without a second thought. Daryl was done.

It hurt you to see him so defeated, and you hated how one person could dismiss the community's rules so easily for their own profit.

You came home with nothing, but the guards didn't seem surprised. Only a quick "Rick took care of it." before you moved on.

Before you went back to your house you stopped by Olivia to report the used materials for the repaired traps and swung by the pantry for something easy to eat.

You were about halfway home and couldn't avoid running into the one person you hoped not to see today. Across the street where you had to pass was her home, currently being used to house a get together of the women's clique. And all eyes were on the two of you.

Daryl tried his best to just look ahead and keep moving on, but the second you were right across her home your walk was interupted.

"You just Had to go see how good he is in the woods huh?" The shrill sounding callout was impossible to ignore and had you stop dead in your tracks, Daryl almost stumbling into you. The hand on your side that clearly meant to steer you away did nothing.

"Oh I Know Daryl's good at anything he does in the woods. Didn't need to have seen your squealing hog impressions to figure that out." You made your way across the street. "He's so good in the woods people need to steal from him and flaunt what's obviously his handywork."

"Besides," you cocked your head to the side in a thinking manner. "I could have sworn you thought he was horrible in bed. So what changed your mind?"

Daryl was silently praying for the pavement to swallow him whole at that moment, but then he wouldhave missed the stammering that was happening in front of him.

With all eyes now on her there were no words that could save her from this fuck up.

"Well?" There was a shit eating grin on your face that only added fuel to the fire that was her beet red face, full of anger but unable to form a proper response.

Daryl's side met with yours as his arm snaked around your back and he pressed a kiss to your hair. It was a small gesture, but it had enough impact to take the win as you two watched her walk off in a rage.

The others that still found themselves on her porch gave you two a shrug as they looked to where she disappeared off to. A few "sorry"'s and "I don't know either"'s came from them as you turned to make your way back home.

"Ya know wha'?" Daryl's hand squeezed your hip as you walked home side by side.

With raised brows and a soft smile you looked at him, the soft sunlight highlighting everything you found so beautiful about him.

"M'glad ya saved me from 'er." His hand slid from your body to take yours, lacing together your fingers and playfully bumping shoulders.

On the turn onto your yard Daryl stopped you with a soft tug on your arm, turning you towards him.

You watched him get in his head for a moment, but his hands found yours. The soft slide of his calloused fingertips over the skin of your arms down to the palms of your hands as he took them both in his again.

With a soft steadying breath he leaned in for a most gentle kiss. It took you off guard at first, Daryl never kissed you in public and now he was holding on to you like this for everyone to see.

You kissed him back with the same intensity he was giving, sharing maybe the most intimate moment you've had.

When you broke apart for air Daryl's breath was shaky, the nerves still clear as day in every fiber of his being.

But he was smiling.

Eyes squinted with the uncontrolable pull of the upward curve of his lips.

Your hands were still held in his when Daryl came back to earth. The blue in his eyes overflowing with everything he was feeling in this moment, but only one stood out.

"I love ya. More than anythin' else in the world. Aint no one gon' change tha'."

A/N: Thanks to a very excited sounding reply to the original fic we now have a second part!! I hope you all enjoyed it ♡♡

#sometimes i write #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #twd #the walking dead #twd daryl #daryl x reader #twd x reader

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borkunlimited · 3 months ago

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Take Your Time, Miss Deer (Sylus x Reader) - Ch. 7

In a tailor shop tucked in the calmer side of the N109 zone is a little room where all clothes of many different designs come together under the delicate hands of an unassuming deer living in the den of all sorts of beasts and sitting on them is the dragon who wears your clothes.

Your many interactions with Skye, Mr. Sylus’ messenger or-

-Sylus is waiting for you to finally figure out he is playing his own messenger.

A Deer Hybrid! Reader x Dragon Hybrid! Sylus Fic

Tags: Sylus x Reader, Hybrid AU, Suggestive Themes, Fluff, Angst, Predator/Prey

TW: Trauma, Implied Sexual Harassment, Implied Sexual Assault, Guns, Mentions of Violence

Chapter Summary: The trees have fully shed their leaves, a sign to a new season and with that, he gives in to one of your little favors, no matter how peculiar the reasons behind them.

Author's Note: Life has been long! Finally got new batteries for my pen so I am off to drawing a fanart for this on top of the drawings I actually need to do. Enjoy the chapter!

AO3

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch.4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10 / Side A / Side B

7: My Dearest, Troubled

The tree in front of your shop has lost most of its leaves, a herald to autumn finally coming to an end and a new season arriving.

“Close the shop?”, you asked, confused while you watch your father put on his coat.

“Take it slow for today, twig,” your father smiled, giving himself a once over. The last train station to the city from N109 zone this morning would leave in an hour and he has to catch it to go to the hospital. “You had a long day yesterday.”

“But why?”

“You’re already ahead of schedule. You might crash out if you do too much.”

“Alright but just today though. Mister Sewing Machine wouldn’t like it if I am gone too long.”

“Mister Sewing Machine will understand, twig,” your father replied, amused at how you treat every item inside your studio as if it is a living thing but it makes sense, he did raise you to look after and take good care of the objects that ensure your livelihood.

“Daisy and I will hold the fort then!”, you answered cheerfully and your crow friend also let out a beep.

Your father smiled at you and briefly glanced at the crow who always used your antlers at a perch. Most of Sylus’ business associates had expressed unease towards this odd friend of yours who always quietly assesses them every time they converse with you in your studio.

Every word this mechanical crow hears will also reach Sylus’ ears.

He wouldn’t deny that he used to be also uncomfortable under its observant gaze.

Yet, with time comes familiarity and your father admitted to himself last night that Sylus proved to be a gentleman around you, completely different to how the people around him paint him to be, especially when he watched the dragon hybrid carry you upstairs as if you are the most fragile treasure he ever held.

That dragon isn’t as bad as people claimed and you were the first person to see past rumors and his rough exterior.

Your father, the first person you managed to convince.

Still, he still can’t help but worry about this recent development. He is sure word has spread fast after hearing from neighbors that Sylus had taken a time-off yesterday just for you.

Which is in fact, a very, very rare occurrence.

“Twig, one last thing,” he said slowly, and he looked at your crow friend then back at you, holding both of your arms gently, “Just in case. I put Mister Louis’-”, he took a deep breath then continued, “- gift at the first drawer of the front desk.”

With Sylus’ watchful eyes, your father knows that no one would dare try to come near you with any malicious intent and he doesn’t doubt that the dragon hybrid would be here before anything bad happens.

But it will only just take a few seconds before something irreversible happens.

You looked down on your shoes and he grimaced. He knows you tend to be very touchy at the subject, initially very apprehensive on the thought behind the present and the implication of the words that the young deer hybrid left.

Louis, despite his wealthy upbringing, tends to be too straightforward, too protective of the other prey hybrids that settled in this area and your father knows Louis left the same gift to other households.

“Skye isn’t a bad person-”

“I know he isn’t. I have complete faith in him.”

“Then why do we still keep it?”

“I have no doubts about your favorite visitor, twig,” he insisted gently, hoping to correct the assumptions already forming in your head, “But he is a very influential man.”

And many people would do anything to snatch the crown from its bearer.

The gaze of your crow friend is heavy but your father maintained his eyes towards you until you nodded slowly, “Okay, I’ll keep it in mind.”

Your father let out a sigh of relief, letting go of you, then patting your shoulder.

“I’ll catch the first train on the way back then we will have dinner together, is that good?”

“Alright, can you bring me something from the bakery when you get back?”

“Your favorite?”

You nodded and your father ruffled your hair before stepping out, making sure the sign says ‘Closed’.

It is not the first time your father left you by your lonesome here in the shop and usually, sewing keeps you preoccupied that you don’t even notice he is gone but his simple request of taking a break is quite foreign.

“What do you do when you are taking breaks, Daisy?”, you asked your crow friend who is busy preening the braid on the side of your face.

Mephisto tilted its head and if you can understand it, it is telling you right now that visiting you is break time, a privilege it takes advantage of too often.

“Organize your treasures?”

That is usually scheduled at the end of the month so again, it shakes its head.

“Catch up with your crow friends?”

Mephisto decided to not do that for now, especially when the largest crow in the group tried to pull the ribbon you made for it off its neck.

“Do you clean your nest?”

It knows it has to give you an answer because you will keep asking, not that it minds.

So, Mephisto nods.

“Really now? I do enjoy looking after the house as well,” you smiled, folding your sleeves until your shoulders and putting your hair up. “Where should we start?”

You follow Mephisto, carrying a broom and laughing gently when it leads you to your studio, perching at the handle while it waits for you to give your verdict on its choice.

“Am I that messy, Daisy?”

It lets out a beep, which you took as a yes, and then opened the door.

“You are a very honest crow,” you chuckled and Mephisto wagged its tail.

It doesn’t think you are messy, no, not at all. It is because out of all the rooms inside your shop, this is where you and it spends time the most.

It only makes sense that you both start cleaning its nest first.

────────────────────

Sylus woke up earlier than expected, mostly because he is looking forward to checking if you managed to pick up the hint he left last night.

The chimes at the entrance of your shop announced his entry and while he didn’t expect you to come and greet him, he certainly did not expect your studio to be empty.

Boxes are scattered around, clearly a sign you are in the middle of organizing fabrics and sewing materials. Spools of threads in the middle of being shifted and arranged from darkest to lightest, assortment of buttons that got lost are reunited one by one to their siblings.

It was clear you are doing a quick sweep, a break, he assumed, but where are you?

“Sweetie?”, he called out.

There was no response except for a chirp.

It was Mephisto, diligently lifting blankets that covered the mannequins one by one as if looking for someone.

Or, looking for you.

It only took him moments to realize that in the middle of cleaning up, you and Mephisto had your attention diverted and now playing a game of hide and seek.

What even made it more amusing is you don’t know there is a new player joining in. For now.

“Where is she?”, he asked, watching as Mephisto perched on his shoulder and tilted its head, as if repeating the same question he asked albeit sarcastically.

If crows can shrug, Mephisto certainly did but it knows you haven’t stepped outside the shop, a rule both of you set before starting the game.

“Electric wires that connect the shop to the grid are not a hiding place!”, you quickly added earlier before running away when Mephisto started chirping with pause in between, a countdown.

Sylus rolled his eyes. Of course, he can immediately find where you are. He just had to shift through the scents, old and new, that lingered on your shop and follow it but where is the fun in that?

“No hints?”

Mephisto shook its head.

Sylus heard a giggle from behind him, the scent of cotton and wildflowers that is unmistakably yours hung briefly in the air but then faded away together with your soft footsteps padding further from him.

You already know he is here through the gap of the half-opened studio door.

Smart girl.

The familiar click of the heels of your shoes are gone, clearly having taken them off and carried them to not make a noise.

“Now, miss seamstress, is this how you welcome a new player in your game?”, he called out, making sure his voice was carried from your studio to every room of your house until to the very corners and crevices you may have thought were safe hiding spots.

Of course, Sylus did not expect you to reply but he took his time, walking casually and aimlessly at items that decorated your home, making sure his footsteps are loud.

Each step calculated, a movement under the pretense he is exploring rather than actively searching for you. He doesn’t have to close his eyes to know you clearly climbed up the stairs, hearing you gasp softly when you accidentally stepped on the fifth step that always creaked.

“I am starting to think you don’t actually want me to find you, sweetheart.”

Every living thing emits a certain scent when being hunted down and prey hybrids have the most potent ones but there is not even a trace of it in you.

In fact, Sylus can only pick up excitement.

Anticipation.

You are clearly happy he still came over to visit you even when you and him had spent the entire day together yesterday.

You can’t help but smile when you peeked from the second floor and saw the tip of Skye’s tail passing by. Daisy glanced up but you put a finger on your lips, a gesture that it is you and your crow friend against the dragon hybrid.

Will Mephisto choose you over Sylus any day? An absurd question.

It decided to buy more time for you, flying towards the receiving area, pretending to check if you were under the front desk.

“You’re a little traitor, do you know that?”, Sylus chuckled, crossing his arms while Mephisto feigned indifference.

The bird is clearly siding with you, he already knows when Mephisto’s gaze lingered on the top of the steps for a second too long.

One of the doors upstairs bang loudly followed by another carefully opened, a clear misdirection.

Daisy can only buy you a little time and you know Skye is bound to find you soon.

Predator hybrids have outstanding senses, that’s what you were told by others. They can hear the beating of your heart. They do not need your name, your scent alone is already a unique identifier.

You haven’t really asked Skye how true it is, if you already lost the game the moment he stepped inside your home but you don’t care much how different you both are, if he already had the edge between the two of you.

In this little corner of the N109 zone, all the rules your kind had imposed upon you are forgotten.

You held your knees close to your chest inside the floor of the cabinet, your ears twitching and listening to his footsteps. The fifth stepped creak and and his silhouette passed by briefly to your room only for it to return immediately after checking your father’s room.

“I know you’re in there, sweetheart.”

You put your hands on your mouth, stifling your giggles.

“I’ll give you a headstart to change your hiding spot before I come in, darling deer.”

There was no sound, no movement. You stayed where you are and if that’s your decision, then Sylus would take it.

Every person in every room Sylus steps inside would immediately avert their eyes to avoid his gaze but there will always be a handful who will lock eyes with him with subtle defiance and Sylus would always pick up the scent of fear, even the slightest ounce.

Narrow it down further and among the handful, there is only person that will meet his eyes, a vast ocean he will always come back to.

And that person is-

“Found you.”

The cabinet door opened, and there you were, hugging your knees and a shy smile on your lips as you looked up at him.

“Hello, Skye.”

“Hello, sweetheart.”

He crouched down to your height, slowly reaching out to you to play with the small braid on the side of your face and his eyes flickered on one of your antlers.

Tied around it is the red good luck ribbon he had left last night.

You leaned towards his hand, smiling.

“How did you find me, Mister Dragon?”

“I’ll always find you, Miss Deer.”

────────────────────

At first, you find Mister Louis quite rude.

You don’t have to open his gift to know what is inside. Everyone who enters your studio just to watch you always carries one of various sizes.

They usually keep it hidden behind their coats while others carry suspiciously long boxes, the wooden floor creaking every time they put it down on their feet before looking around your studio, making conversation with you.

Cold. Heavy. Powerful.

You only get to hold one when the twins come over, Luke carrying a rifle and Kieran, its case. They let you take a peek at the scope once when they saw two rival groups about to tear each other’s throats just past the boundaries set by the boss himself to all the denizens of the N109 zone.

“Have you ever held one before, Miss Deer?”

Kieran asked you before, noticing your fascination when they let you examine the rifle, making sure the safety is on.

You shook your head, focused on the little fight that was about to unfold between Mister Louis’ pride of lion hybrids and a pack of wolf hybrids.

The two chuckled, their tails wagging.

“I don’t think the miss needs to. She already has us and the boss looking after her.”

They never referred to Skye using his real name.

They always call him ‘boss’.

The distant gunshots rattled the utensils you have brought with your favorite visitor upstairs in the small rooftop garden you keep, the tea making small waves against the walls of your porcelain cups.

“It looks like the neighbors are being rowdy today, Skye,” you chuckled softly but Sylus did not miss the slight tremble when you took a piece of your favorite cake.

The entirety of N109 zone isn’t paradise, that Sylus knows.

Yet, he is very specific to everyone living here to not even dare cause not even a single ruckus within 500 meters of your shop.

“They just don’t know how to behave, do they?”, he mused, adding more strawberry macarons on your plate.

Your eyes fell on his hands. It was clear that he is familiar with defending himself using his fists. His hands were rough, the skin on his knuckles stretched tight against the bone.

As always, he checks the cut on your finger and your eyes trace the calluses on his palm and the finger he uses to pull the trigger.

With his pointed horns, a powerful tail, and senses so sharp, he doesn’t have to worry much about anyone hurting him.

“I have a request,” you started slowly, your eyes watching the last leaf of the tree land on your tea, floating quietly.

You have always welcomed each season with open arms but the end of autumn means it will only be weeks until you say goodbye to your antlers.

With them gone comes the feeling of defenselessness, of terror, and each distant gunshot reminds you that your kind-

-Really is pitiful.

“What is it that my sweetheart wishes for?”

“You can turn me down, alright?”

“Let me hear you out first, miss seamstress, then I’ll make the call.”

“I want to learn how to shoot,” you replied, and you immediately averted your gaze, looking down at your lap.

You know he uses one but he always keeps it on his back, covered by the coat he hangs on his shoulder but you always spot it when he shifts closer to you to study your work.

Sylus was expecting you to bring up your many plans of tying bows on his horns and tails but certainly not this. He had always told himself you don’t need to wield a weapon. Not because he thinks you are completely fragile but because holding one means you are pointing it to another person.

Your hands, they weren’t made to destroy.

They were meant to create.

“That’s not a small request, little doe, are you sure?”

“If it is fine with you?”

“Why do you want to learn, sweetie?”

“I am going to lose my antlers soon,” you admitted sadly, your ears drooping and Sylus’ gaze softened when he realized the cause of your anxiety.

The red ribbon tied on your antler sway gently against the autumn breeze together with the good luck ribbon on his horn.

It is hard to say no when his favorite deer is looking at him as if he ate her last macaron.

Sylus already knows he is a goner.

Still, he relished that you chose to ask him this favor over Luke and Kieran and he chuckled, his resolve gone.

“You’ve got me wrapped around your little finger, do you know that, sweetie?”

You know Skye’s services do not come cheap. He already did so much for you, carrying favors and messages so it is only fair you compensate him just as before when he helped you.

“Here,” you said, tapping your right cheek, “My downpayment.”

“You’re quite a charmer, aren’t you, little doe,” he whispered, reaching out to lean closer to you then pressed his lips on your cheek.

If Sylus has it his way, he would be demanding more, to shower you kisses. Will you be blushing madly when he does? Or will you just laugh and tell him he missed a spot?

As much as he wants his answers to those questions that come while he waits for sleep to come, he will take what he can have right now as long as it is from you.

“Downpayment received,” he murmured softly in your ear and you caught the red tints of his ears.

Among the quiet rustling of the dried leaves on the floor of your garden and the sounds of ceramic pots and bottles being lined up, he can only hope that his wishes carried by the autumn breeze will be heard.

────────────────────

Daisy gave you another reassuring nuzzle on your cheek, sensing your frustration and embarrassment.

Sylus knows you are clearly upset and he knows exactly why.

Thirty bullets in and your chances of hitting a target should be at least greater than before but every time you pull a trigger, it is as if the bullet ricochets itself and hits the wall.

Is this the universe's way of telling him that his precious deer shouldn’t wield a firearm? He is starting to think it is.

“Skye, they kept missing,” you sighed, your ears drooping, and he had to stifle a chuckle because even with tears threatening to spill from your eyes, you just look so adorable.

“Sweetie, it takes time handling a firearm,” he began, stepping closer with his thumb wiping a tear on the corner of your eye, “Just like when you were learning how to use your sewing needles.”

“Did it also take you years to learn how to use them?”

“Not years but it took practice and patience.”

“Don’t rush it, sweetie,” he murmured against your ear, standing behind you, his chest brushing against your back, “Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

One.

An erratic heartbeat.

It isn’t the quiet and steady rhythm you have. A tune trying to sync itself against the conductor’s lead but ahead by one note.

“Breathe for me,” he said quietly and your ears brushed his cheek, flicking. Your shoulders relaxed against him followed by a sharp intake of breath, an attempt to match the cadence of his heart.

Two.

Trembling hands.

The gun, a foreign object, your body’s natural reaction to push it away from you but your determination supersedes, holding on.

“Eyes forward,” Sylus continued, his warm breath fanning against your neck, soft but firm. His other hand moved from your waist to grip your wrist, a stable guide.

Three.

Shaky aim.

Every time you pull the trigger, the close sounds of the gun unloading startles you. The sound, much different, compared to the distant firing of the rowdy citizens of the N109 zone. Your deer instinct takes precedence over everything, telling you to flee.

“Ignore everything else.”

His hand holding your wrist rested on top of yours, his finger on the trigger with you. His voice a low, soothing rumble as he rested his chin against your shoulder.

You are as much a human as you are a deer.

The last bullet inside the firearm discharged, the golden casing shining against the afternoon sun until it finally met its target, the pieces of the old ceramic pot shattering.

Sylus was watching you closely, your stunned expression of finally hitting one of the targets both of you set up slowly replaced by a wide smile, relief and triumph.

Victory .

A small one but a victory nonetheless.

“That’s my girl,” he praised you, his hands moving around your waist to pull you closer against his chest.

“Did you see that, Skye?”, you asked, looking up at him, your nose brushing against his in the process.

“I did, sweetheart, I did.”

“You’re a good teacher.”

“And I have a willing student.”

“I supposed I should pay you in full now for the lesson,” you smiled, then pointing at your right cheek, “Here.”

Sylus is sure the twins and even Mephisto had a hand at this. The three of them most likely made you assume that little favors are to be paid by hugs and kisses, always seeking affection from you just like he does.

Unbelievable but it worked.

He chuckled softly, his lips hovering just above your skin before he planted a lingering kiss on the spot you pointed.

“Payment accepted, sweetie.”

Sylus had already given himself the role to be your protector and he knows what it takes to be one.

To you, he is your dragon, always yearning for your touch, content.

To others, he is the big, bad and will always be bad dragon and if he has to take, bite, and claw at every single being that is a threat to your small forest, then so be it.

────────────────────

Evening comes by too fast, the breeze entering the open windows of your shop becoming colder and stronger and you know it is time for your favorite visitor to go when he glances at his watch and lets out a heavy sigh.

The passage of time always picks up speed every time he is here and his shoulder slumps just slightly when he sets one of the boxes he is helping you move on one of the tables.

“Duty calls?”, you asked, his frown turning to a smile when you peek to check on him.

He nodded, “It’s time for me to go.”

You observed him thoughtfully, studying him and your eyes lingered on his watch, a new one, clearly expensive. He always wears a different one every time he comes over.

There is a question that you put at the back of your head when morning came where you were met with an unexpected surprise after you removed the wreath that Skye made for you.

“What is it like to be Mr. Sylus’ bodyguard?”, you asked, accompanying him to the door of your shop.

“It’s a demanding job but it pays well.”

“Does it also include making sure that not a lot of people know what Mr. Sylus looks like?”

“That’s one of the job requirements, sweetie.”

“If I tell you I now know what he looks like, what would you do?”, you asked, tilting your head with a knowing smile.

Who would have thought a little hint is all you need to piece together who is the man in front of you?

This is the face of someone close to solving a puzzle, a breakthrough. You have a question in your mind slowly taking shape.

All Sylus needs now is for the words to come from your lips.

A confirmation and there is only one correct answer.

“That depends, sweetie. Prove it to me and I’ll take you to him,” he replied playfully.

“You will?”, you asked, wagging your tail, “Really?”

“Really,” he affirmed, and his tail flicked in excitement, “We’ll go straight to the base if you give me the right answer.”

You paused for a moment, your eyes looking at your shoes and the dusty clothes you are wearing then you chuckled softly, “Tomorrow. I want to look my best when we meet Mr. Sylus.”

You want to doll up for him.

You want to be presentable.

He wanted to tell you that you don’t need to, that all he needs is for you to call him by his real name.

“You already look cute just the way you are, if you ask me,” he said, pinching your cheek one last time before opening the door and he was about to step out when you reached out to hold the end of his coat hanging on his shoulders.

“Miss me already, sweetie? Don’t we have an appointment set tomorrow?”

“You forgot something.”

“Did I?”, Sylus answered, a slow smile spreading on his face while he pretended to pat his pockets and scan his clothes, “I supposed I did.”

Late autumn.

His car parked just outside your shop at the front in this corner of the N109 zone while the lone tree standing tall near the curb had finally completely shed its leaves. Your wool cardigan rustles gently, the wooden floor creaking when you stand on your tiptoes.

This time, your lips finally hit the mark, right on his cheek.

A small noise, he doesn’t know if it is his, yours, or maybe both but it is clear that it is for your ears and his only, an intangible treasure, a song that will always play in repeat, forever sought.

Small memories, so small, but even then, all the precious gems are.

After he waved goodbye, Sylus had tucked the stray leaf on the dashboard of his car that day.

Tomorrow can’t come any sooner.

────────────────────

A classical tune filled the room, the papers and record books shuffling while you pile them up together for your father who is running late.

Your eyes occasionally land on the door, hoping you will see the familiar antlers and the package from your favorite bakery that makes the best strawberry shortcake, a little treat he promised from earlier and also, most likely to make up with you..

The chimes rang.

“Welcome home-”

“I always loved those antlers of yours, branches.”

Every part of your body froze, and your wool cardigan suddenly was not enough to keep you warm.

How long was it when you heard that voice? Your mind was close to putting a number to the distance you and your father had put between that voice but before you could even come up with an answer, you stopped.

Every cell that makes you up refuses to acknowledge his presence, no, his existence .

There is no person in front of you, the chimes did not announce a visitor. Maybe it did not ring at all and it is just you and Daisy in this shop, waiting for your father’s return.

But there is.

He is a human, that one you are sure.

No tail.

No horns.

Normal ears.

His voice?

A broken record, too many scratches but it still plays a distorted song, the lyrics a horrid amalgamation of disjointed tracks.

His face?

A mess of black threads all tied against each other, there is no way to tell where it began and it started. It is as if they have been there ever since and will always be there.

“Who would have thought that the deer Sylus is keeping for himself is you? I have been looking for you everywhere.”

One.

Two.

Three.

Three strides. It also takes him the same number of steps from the store front of your old shop to stand beside you in the front desk when you used to be the one greeting customers.

You keep your eyes on your shoes, your hands behind your back and even when you try to move at least an inch, your body refuses.

Deers must stay still under the gaze of a predator.

An actual predator.

Humans.

Predator hybrids.

Prey hybrids.

Put all three of it in a diagram and you will find that you are as much as capable of harming each other.

The only question is- Will you?

Can you?

“It looks like he knows how to look after livestock,” the human continued, and your lips trembled when his breath was a little closer to your neck.

His name? What was his name?

Your mind refuses to cooperate. Do not put a name on this tangled mess of black threads that he calls a face.

Names only make them more real.

How does it even speak? No, there is certainly a face underneath it but if you even try to pull a loose thread, it will only just unravel itself further.

You might get caught in it too if you do.

“Lost your voice? But you were just talking to Sylus earlier,” he prodded further and your gaze moved from your feet to the drawer of the front desk. “Gave him a kiss too.”

Breathe for me.

Skye’s words echoed and his voice, always so gentle, is now distant.

“Too bad your little league isn’t here anymore,” the human continued then he gazed at the crow.

He clearly recognized this one. Its appearance is the reason why Sylus suddenly left a very important negotiation back then and who would have known, that beast really does keep an eye over you.

Oh, you aren’t Sylus’ emergency ration.

Not a feast either.

You are so much more to that dragon, alright.

Sylus is going to regret crossing a human.

────────────────────

“Hey boss, the packages have arrived.”

The twins weave their way towards him through the maze of boxes and crates scattered inside the main hallway of the base and more are waiting to be brought in outside the double doors of his home.

Weapons.

Experimental drugs.

Documents.

The whole nine yards, waiting to be opened by him one by one and all of it will fetch a hefty sum as long as it is sold to the most eager buyer.

Who would have known he will be doing a similar clean-up here at the base as well?

“Let’s get started. Time is money.”

It was the usual routine, Luke will hand him a package to open while Kieran continues to put everything inside.

The blade cuts across the tape holding the flaps and each item inside promising.

Sylus always notes the senders, these are from business associates after all. How the product performs is a test, an evaluation to know if the venture is a worthy pursuit or not.

“Say, boss, I thought you had that group blacklisted,” Kieran said slowly, approaching his desk and carrying a box.

A cardboard box.

No sender details.

Yet, it was faint, very faint, but Sylus knows why Kieran asked.

The box holds a faint stench of the black market that deals with prey hybrid meat.

“I did,” he frowned. He was clear to those sick bastards he had no intentions of dealing with their wares, “Open it.”

“I wonder if they are sending those vials again. That was creepy,” Luke said, standing closer to Kieran while he watched his brother rip the old parchment paper wrapping the box.

“Or those horns. That was nasty.”

“Or a bomb.”

“What? Nah, this box has been sitting outside for a while.”

“Let’s get this over,” Sylus said, sighing heavily, already thinking how he would dispose of these ‘samples’ as those people called it.

Sylus has always been decisive when giving orders and every decision comes with consequences, both good and bad.

Yet, there are many times that the universe is quick to remind him that he isn’t invincible as he thinks he is even if it gifted him the prowess to assert his claim against those who stand his way.

And right now, the universe is pointing at a chink on his scales.

Pictures.

The box is full of photos of you, all circled with a red marker.

His eyes traced the antlers decorated with threads, then at the crown of flowers and finally-

-At the glassy eyes of a taxidermized head of a deer resting on the white linen holding a note in its mouth.

And it says-

“Boss?”, Luke said slowly.

“Boss, what does it say?”, Kieran asked, the usual calmness in his voice slowly overcome by nervousness.

Pretty little deer.

Sylus had never been much dependent on fate. Every action is calculated, all variables considered and every odds must be in his favor.

But tonight, when he and the twins raced back to your shop, never he expected the day would come his car would roar on the highway as he stepped on the accelerator.

Let this be a sick prank.

Let this be an empty threat.

Let this be a cruel joke.

God, please.

────────────────────

Author's Note:

Do you know that part in the rollercoaster before you plunge at the speed of 80kph or more? Yeah, this chapter is that chapter. See you next Thursday!

My inbox is open~ (If you wanted to be mutuals, I will be happy!) I am still navigating how fandom etiquette is since it is my first time being active in one here in Tumblr.

AO3

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch.4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10 / Side A / Side B

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #hybrid au #lads hybrid au #lads #lads sylus

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mushroom-words · 4 months ago

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Run, Little Rabbit, Run || Tyler Galpin

Fandom: Wednesday Pairing: Tyler Galpin x GN!Reader Words: 1415 Note: This has been rewritten and reposted from a previous blog. Warnings: Dark content. Violence. Possessive behavior. Predator and prey trope. Blood. Summary: You've stuck your nose in where it doesn't belong. Now Tyler has to make sure his secret is safe.

YOU WERE TOO curious for your own good. That’s what they would tell you anyway. People would warn you about how the cat fell prey to its own curiosity. They never remembered to mention how many lives the cat had to spare. You weren’t sure how many you had left, but you knew the supply had to be running short by now.

Mud squelched beneath your feet and splattered up your legs. Rain showered down from the thunderous sky. The pelts of droplets whipped at you from all directions as it flew in harmony with the gusting wind.

All sense of direction had been blurred and turned around by the churning storm. Everything around you looked the same bathed in the moonlight. A thick fog had begun to roll in and blanketed any potential path through the underbrush. It perfectly depicted a scene out of a horror movie. Right down to the girl running for her life.

Tyler sang your name from somewhere behind you. “You can’t run forever, little rabbit.”

He sounded much closer than he should have been. Much too close for comfort. The only solace you had to cling to was knowing he hadn’t transformed into the Hyde yet. Once he did, there would be no hope of escaping his clutches. You still stood a chance while he was human.

Except he wasn’t exactly human. He was a beast masquerading as a teenage boy. A disguise that he had used to draw you in. Manipulate you into developing feelings for him. Tricking you into believing his act.

It wasn’t his fault. Not entirely anyway. Tyler couldn’t help what he was or what he did. Hydes followed whatever orders their masters gave them. Someone was making him disembowel fellow outcasts. But knowing that only made the situation far more terrifying. Knowing there were two killers roaming around but not knowing who the mastermind was.

You threw a precarious glance over your shoulder. He was nowhere to be seen. But you knew he had to be closing in and gaining on you.

The toe of your shoe caught on something hidden in the underbrush. You cried out as your body pitched forward. You flung your hands out just in time to prevent you from face-planting the mud. Small rocks and broken twigs stabbed into your exposed skin. You ignored the pain as you scrambled back up to your feet. His laughter ran throughout the woods like he could see you struggling. Watching your hands and feet slip against the slick mud. It echoed around you, nearly impossible to hear which direction it came from in the roaring storm.

“I can smell you, (Y/N),” he sang. “Your fear, it’s almost intoxicating. I bet you taste even sweeter.”

He was too close. You ducked behind a large tree and slapped your hand over your mouth. Your breathing was ragged and too loud for you to think he wouldn’t be able to hear it. You needed time to think. Fear’s icy fingers had a choke-hold on your ability to properly think about your next moves. But you knew there wasn’t much you could do. You were in the middle of the woods at night with no way to defend yourself against the monster so dangerous and unpredictable that Nevermore had banned him from the campus.

You felt your foot nudge something. Looking down to see a solid rock, you slowly slid down the trunk and picked it up. The jagged edges scraped against your palm. It was the closest thing to a weapon you could find out there.

Letting loose a shaky breath, you peeked around the tree to check his whereabouts. You squinted through the downpour but still saw no sign of him. His absence put you more on edge. Not knowing where he was was worse than if you had come face to face with him.

“Boo.”

Crying out, you jerked back and let your arm swing with wild abandon. Tyler easily caught your wielded hand and immediately snatched you by the throat. He slammed you back against the tree. Your head knocked against the wood hard enough for stars to speckle your vision.

He sighed as he looked at you. Just looked at you with eyes as dark as the secrets he held. You wished you were able to decipher the thoughts behind them. If you knew of his plans for you, knew what he planned to do with you now that he had you trapped, you might have been able to formulate a plan of escape. But even you knew that was wishful thinking. Even if you weren’t exhausted and disoriented, you doubted you would be able to see past the doors into his twisted mind.

The rock slipped from your muddy fingers. He glanced down at it before giving you a disappointed look. Yet underneath that disappointment was a depraved amusement that contrasted sharply against his once inviting features. He shook his head at you and clicked his tongue.

“Hasn’t anybody taught you not to run from a predator?” He leaned in with a smirk that twisted your stomach with tendrils of dread. “We enjoy the chase too much,” he said in a low voice.

Tyler released your hand to touch your face. You resisted the urge to flinch away from his fingers. He stroked his thumb over your cheek with a gentleness that belied the circumstances. Shivers skittered up your spine in the same panic that strangled your mind. You shuddered.

He chuckled at your body’s reaction to him. “The chase is over now, little rabbit.”

Not much scared you. Even now, you weren’t sure if it was Tyler himself who scared you, or if it was the unknown of what he wanted with you. It might have been the possibility of your death looming over your head that terrified you—or maybe it was how your imagination ran amuck with ideas of what he was going to do to you if he didn’t kill you.

You didn’t want to stick around to find out.

You let the saliva pool on your tongue before spitting it out in his face. As soon as it landed, you brought your knee up sharply. The abrupt fight distracted him just enough for you to shove him away from you with a desperate cry. Just the thought of hurting Tyler churned your stomach, but you knew he would hurt you if you didn’t do what was necessary to get away.

Your shaky legs could only carry you a few feet before a solid mass slammed into your back. You were tackled to the forest floor, the force knocking the wind from you. Tyler manhandled you onto your back and straddled your thighs. He pinned your wrists above your head with a single hand while you struggled to suck air down into your burning lungs.

Tears mixed with the rain, blurring your watery eyes as you stared up at his enraged expression. “Tyler, please,” you choked out, the words broken between sobs. “I won’t tell anyone, I swear. Just please don’t… don’t hurt me.”

The anger mingled with something akin to sympathy. Pity. Something that softened the edges of his gaze. But the twisted depravity glinted darker than the night. “Oh, baby,” he cooed mockingly. “I know you won’t tell anyone.”

He shifted, and it was then you noticed the jagged rock in his hand. You cried and begged until your throat went hoarse and tears and snot slicked your already wet face. He held you down with no effort despite your desperate thrashing beneath him. Not willing to go out without a fight. If you were going down, it was going to be swinging.

“You won’t tell anyone,” he repeated quietly once you’d exhausted yourself. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Your scream died out as he brought the rock down with a grunt. Pain immediately exploded across your skull—throbbed as you felt your skin split, warmth trickling down your chilled face in bloody streaks. He slammed the rock into your temple this time. Black began to edge your watery vision. You grappled onto the slippery cliffs of your consciousness as best as you could, but you could feel your fingers losing their grip until you were tumbling from the precipice.

Tyler leaned down and put his face in yours, making sure he was the last thing you saw before you were plunged into the darkness. “There’s nowhere left to run, little rabbit. You’re mine now.”

#wednesday #wednesday netflix #wednesday x reader #tyler galpin #tyler galpin x reader #hunter doohan #🍄.ffn

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takusan-no-ai · 2 months ago

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Original Me

PAIRING: Astra x Male Reader (Romantic) (Fluff)

SUMMARY: Astra develops feelings for Phaethon’s younger brother.

As the younger brother of Phaethon you naturally had connections with Chaotic Fried Rice, aka Astra Yao. You had previously talked with her about your siblings hiding their proxy work, and it led to a serious conversation between you too; one that formed bond before either of you knew it.

You both found solace in each other’s presence whenever doubt would arise. For you it was the trust of your family. For Astra it was the love of her fans. And that comfort became a genuine friendship as you both grew. You found it in yourself to forgive Belle and Wise, and Astra found her own strength and courage to be a light in the darkness for others.

Surprise, surprise, all that time together didn’t stay platonic. The casual handholding, cuddles, comforting words, shared laughter, and cheeky kisses from Astra led to you developing a crush on her. And Astra found herself becoming more attracted to you; the guy she can’t get out of her head. So much so that she’d developed the problem of writing about him in all her love songs.

But the thought of expressing those feelings left you nauseous. Your heart was already damaged from when your family lied to you. And although you’d forgiven them, there was still a fear. Fear that your heart might get hurt again if you opened up. So you did the only thing you could: avoided her. You hid in your room, pretended to be sick, anything. But it didn’t help the ache in your heart from how much you missed her.

But of course that never stopped Astra before. And it certainly wasn’t going to now. She knew the feelings she felt for you. And Astra would be damned if she wasn’t going to at least confess to you. So she tracks you down, studying your schedule with the help of Evelyn, and catches her prey when he least expected it.

A loud gasp erupted from himself, (Y/N) now being pinned to the wall. He was just walking in the alleyway next to Gravity Cinema, and having finished a pickup job for some new films, was on his way back to Random Play. However he wasn’t the only one aware of this.

Astra had him pinned. And she huffed at him with her eyebrows crossed. The young man looked away from her, blushing furiously.

Had it been a few weeks, maybe a month, since he last seen her? Either way it felt like an eternity. Her eyes were just as beautiful, no…more, than he’d last seen her. Did she get her hair done? The style looks nice. Wait he’s getting distracted now.

Astra crossed her arms, huffing and puffing, walking back and forth, circling around him like a predator would its prey. “You avoid me for so long and all you can do is ogle me? Just say you love me already!” She left no room for comfort, immediately getting in (Y/N)’s face. Despite her crossed brows and forcibly deepened voice, her eyes sparkled brightly, and her mouth almost curved into a smile.

She was enjoying this.

(Y/N) turned away. “I’m not saying that.”

“Hmmmm.” Astra kept turning his head every time he looked away, forcing him to maintain eye contact. All the while she had her hand pressed on his chest. “But when I say I love you, your heart beats faster. So much so that even you have to notice it.”

“Still…,”

“Why won’t you say it?”

“…I,” he hesitated. “I can’t say it.” Astra stared at him, confused. “You’d get bored of me. Or find me annoying. Plus I’m not a cool proxy like Belle and Wise, or a strong fighter like Evelyn.” He kept prattling on reasons for her to not like him.

Astra pinched his nose, effectively making (Y/N) shut up. She leaned close, smiling at him.

“If I say I love you then I love you. Simple as that. And if I need to prove that to you then I will. But you have to let me.” They were now so close they feel each other’s breath.

Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to open his heart some more.

“I…really love you, Astra. And I want you to love me too.”

…

“Congrats.”

“Happy for you.”

“Nice.”

Back at Random Play, Wise, Belle, and Fairy cheered at the news of Astra and (Y/N) being an official couple. Though it was through the gritted teeth and codes of slight jealousy, it was mostly cheers of joy.

Astra had a new person to sing for, to ignite that hope in humanity. And (Y/N) had a new person to believe in, to help him open his heart to the world.

- Fin

#male reader #zenless zone zero x reader #astra yao #astra yao x reader #imagine

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nuggetpool-hi · 7 months ago

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Guess who watched X-Men origins again

OK SO I got THOUGHTS of this movie but specially Wade's fight style because it's really similar to our current Deadpool's fighting style... so yeah I wanna yap about that hi

WELL FIRST OF wanna talk a lil about Victor, Logan and Wade's different styles... from a mortal's view point I am no expert on this just insane about these movies and I need to write my thoughts or i'll explode

Starting with Victor!! the ultimate kittycat girlypop

I love his kitty self I'm sorry ANYWAY EXAMPLES

youtube

OKAY SO VICTOR. Victor's style is obviously very animalistic but also stylized, he makes the fight a show for himself! He likes to hunt and he tries to always give chase or play around a bit before the kill, just like a cat playing with his food!

AND IF you pay attention to the start of the movie, this game he's got with his target isn't initially how he fought, he kinda developed it as the years went by and the eviler he got the more he played with his food. The first few wars he goes to he's fighting like a human soldier, then you can see him slip up some animal jumps and uses his claws more until at the end he's full on predator chasing his prey (just like when he captures Scott, my god I love that scene he's terryfing)

AND A BIG DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HIM AND LOGAN (that I will also talk about later I guess) is that with this play thing Victor has going on it SHOWS that he THINKS about the stragety when fighting, he's aware of his surroundings and his target's strenghs and weaknesses, he's good at coming up with solutions on the spot (see his fight with John, he can predict where he's going to teleport and catch him) and how to give a good chase without losing WHILE LOGAN WELL, at least in this movie he seems very lost when fighting?? he mostly just launches at his target and attacks, if the target runs away he chases, very animalistic but in a feral-based on instincts way... prolly why he coulnt win agaisnt Victor at first, because he was being blinded by his rage while Victor was quite literally playing with him lmao

ANYWAY LOGAN our favorite traumatized babygirl

and boy does he suffer in this one aughh EXAMPLES

youtube

Now you must be wondering why did I put the bathroom scene, well I feel like it represents Logan's general situation pretty well! (and its silly let me be), hes confused destroying everything and just keeps making it worse every time he tries to fix it.

The thing about Logan in this movie is that he's honestly just- confused and angry from the moment he killed his father, he runs away over and over again from EVERYTHING and he's constantly being manipulated BY EVERYONE!! Poor man has no idea what to do with himself of who he can actually trust but damn he tries, his enviroment is contantly changing and he's trying his best to adapt but he does it in a messy way.

The way he fights and acts in general is animalistic, yes, but more of the "scared dog attacks" kind of way, he's always acting on his instinct that it's mostly led by anger. When he fights he just throws himself and tries to slash whatever he can, he runs he hides and then when he gets the chance to he attacks again.

He constantly has little to no control of the situtation WHICH IS SPECIALLY SEEN pre-adamantium where he keeps losing to Victor because unlike him- he has no plan, he's being manipulated and kept blind of everything ON PURPOUSE which obviouly puts him in a disadvantage so yeah.

AFTER he gets the adamantium you can see his skills strengen with his knowledge, the more he lears about his situation the more focused he is and his fighting it's cleaner, he still moslty just launches himself head first into fights BUT he's not running away, he's able to evaluate his situation and adapt (See his fight with Gambit, he looks at him when running away and then destroys the stair so Gambit can't run away OR with Deadpool where he decides to gain height as a way to create the space needed to evaluate his enemy?? that one might be a lil bit of a stretch tho)

WADE WILSON THE ULTIMATE CUTIE PRINCESS

let's ignore how dirty they did him ok...

OKAY SO SADLY- The bullet scene is pretty much the only scene where we see him fight and it's honestly not enough to tell how his normal style is BUT I WILL SAY his general style is fancy to look at and scarily effective (which is mostly seen with our current Wade but you can see a bit in origins deadpool) he makes a show for everyone to see, which is also his stragedy to make himself even better at combat! He uses a lot of fancy movements and acrobatics that help him AND takes his enemies off-guard, confusing them as where they should attack or what he's going to hit?? anyway-

Comparison time yippieee THIS IS WHAT THIS POST IS SUPPOSED TO BE ABOUT LMAO

I did not get side tracked idk what you mean.... and now seeing it over and over I'm realizing not that noticeable.... so it's just not that much to talk about oops

LOOK AT THIS WADE, LOOK AT THE MOVEMENTS HE DOES WITH HIS LEGS!! HIS HANDS??? THIS MAN IS SHOWING OFF he's using all kinds of acrobatics and fancy movements while fighting, he attacks with his hands and dodges using mostly his legs, he's using all he has!! and it's making Logan lose BECAUSE LOGAN CAN'T FOCUS!! specially since he's so "target locked will attack", Wade makes it SO HARD for him to focus on a pose long enough to actually stab him also Logan ain't too good at dodging, I'm guessing it could be because he heals? dunno

now what inmediately came to my mind upon rewatch was THIS scene (maybe because I saw it recently who knows)

THE SETTING IS SO SIMILAR!! Wade is using a lot of fancy movements to get up, dodge and attack all way too fast for Logan to process, once again Logan is looking everywhere confused about where to aim bc this silly red guy it's dancing on his face and he's struggling to keep up JUST LIKE IN ORIGINS except well he IS able to get a hit bahah

Dodges like crazy, jumps over Logan (he did in origins too) just moves a lot between every attack

Actually now that I think about it Wade feels a bit less effective in the car, like yes sure he's putting up a good fight but Logan still feels like he's leading it BECAUSE WADE IS MORE EFFECTIVE WHEN HE HAS MORE SPACE!! he likes to be able to move around and do gimnastics while Logan it's a lot better the closer he gets to his target so omg yeah... ALSO LIKE WADE STILL TRIES TO MOVE AROUND he shoves Logan away from him, he gets out of the car choking logan with a seatbelt and gets to the back, he tries to create space because that's where his speciality WHILE LOGAN keeps trying to get closer to have him in his power, which he gets to do since the car isn't allowing Wade to move as freely as he would want to...

AND YOU CAN SEE HIS FANCY MOVEMENTS WITH FRANCIS TOO he's constantly circuling him, dodging and spinning while Francis is just trying to get a hit, Wade keeps his enemies chasing him when he fight THAT'S the way he controls it and gets it wherever he wants aughh

ANYWAY YEAH I think that's it, don't really know how much sense any of this does since I've been writing it on-and off the whole day lmao it's so messy but yeah feel free to add onto it I'd love to see opinions on this wahoo

Might keep talking about stuff I find interesting in the movies bahah this has been funn

#deadpool and wolverine #wade wilson #logan howlett #deadpool 3 #deadpool #xmen origins #james logan howlett #origins deadpool #x men origins wolverine #Youtube

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clannfearrunt · 7 months ago

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Hi I'm spitting out biology (and a liiiiitle bit cultural) musings more of them. These guys are actually terrestrial holothurians (sea cucumbers). I'm putting my stonks into echinodermata we have to believe in their Powers to evolve new and exciting shapes.

The people who keep symbiotic fish in their tentacles call themselves Anemones, while the ones that reject the fish as parasites and wear shell-like hats over most of their tentacles call themselves Nautilus. In the modern day there is an increasing population of those who consider themselves neither of these things but due to the history of these two cultures there isn't a widely accepted colloquial name for the species as a whole.

They're not cnidarians so they don't possess stinging cells, but they produce a thick venomous mucous from their tentacles that causes paralysis and inflammation on contact for various other animals. They evolved as social ambush predators that would jump on their prey and slather this mucous over them to subdue them. Their ideal diet is like 60% meat and 30% fruits, with bonus whatever the fuck else they feel like eating as a treat.

The venomous mucous may have been what initially started the Nautiluses' practice of covering most of their tentacles, along with protection from the sun and aerial predators. They have a long history as a multi-species people, and keeping contact venom just exposed around your loved ones without resistance to it is just plain dangerous. These days it's more of a visual identification and religious thing though.

These guys don't have real eyes, but are covered in light sensing cells all across their skin. They have shit visual acuity and can't see very far, but they're usually aware of the general silhouette of large objects a few feet around them, and are sensitive to movement. The Anemones, at least, formed a symbiotic relationship with a species of amphibious fish partially due to them being able to see farther and with higher acuity and warn them of things they might not have picked up on by themselves.

There's a lot of in-universe debate over the exact intelligence of the clownfish, but the average seems to be kind of parrot-like, with occasional exceptionally intelligent, probably sapient individuals. They're hard to study, because they're usually extremely shy towards other people, plus Anemones tend to develop a very strong bond with their clowns that skews their perception of what their own fish is capable of. In the modern day the relationship between Anemones and their fish is largely religious rather than out of any real practical necessity; the Anemone religious hegemony considers these fish as one half of a full person, and places an extreme importance on maintaining this relationship. This is usually fine and what ever, but can place Anemones and clownfish alike into difficult situations when the relationship is unwanted or cannot be maintained properly for whatever reason. It's also the reason Anemones and Nautilus have historically considered themselves separate, often rival species; the presence of the clowns or lackthereof have been considered mutually repulsive and a sign of something being deeply Wrong about the other group.

Most terrestrial holothurians are small, trundling insectivores, but there is one large species these guys share a close evolutionary relationship with. The dropbear are solitary, arboreal ambush predators that used to share much of their range with Anemones, but are currently critically endangered in the wild. Anemones, with their very low visual acuity and poor sense of smell, have a very hard time distinguishing dropbears from members of their own species. It's thought the need to tell friend apart from foe is what drove them to develop complex vocal capabilities.

Side note the Example Anemone here is wearing an extremely hastily designed example of traditional Anemone accessories; they didn't have a nudity taboo and actually prefer to keep most of their skin uncovered so they can see, but they enjoyed wearing accessories with tactile or audible elements built into it. Beads were often placed so they'd click together when moving, and combined with knots in the cords were often arranged according to their traditional system of cord "writing" so that people could read each other's clothing.

These guys support themselves on land through an endoskeleton made up of a network of mesodermal ossicles and catch connective tissue. When threatened, they can dramatically loosen their skin and let a predator or perhaps a guy easily tear off whatever part of their body they've grabbed, allowing for an easy getaway with relatively easy wounds to regenerate. This easily gooped skeletal structure does make them very prone to fatigue though. It was fine, because they're ambush predators. They were just supposed to be sitting there most of the day. Please.

#Conarts #UHHHH #Paruko #Harmony splatoon #gnarly eddy #do i even tag karen hey did they rename karen in english. i dont care anymore #Squid 2 the evolution of the squid #Splat Bio #long post

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pradaax · 3 months ago

Text

Dark But Just A Game

Choi San x Reader 18+

A pretty little fool to think exceptions still rule

Killers take life, hunters chase prey, lovers surrender hearts, yet money is all of the above. You understand this better than anyone. Some might call you crazy, but you prefer to think of yourself as ambitious. Ambition tastes sweeter when dipped in danger, and you've developed quite the appetite. You follow the rules, but only because they’re the game you’ve chosen to master

You adjust the black fur coat draped over your shoulders, the plush texture a stark contrast against the cool bite of the Parisian night. Your fingers trail over the diamond necklace resting at your collarbone a piece worth nearly half a million, a symbol of conquest, of power. The driver steps out, rounds the sleek black car, and pulls the door open for you, you step out, heels clicking against the pavement. The breeze snakes around you.

Your eyes lift to the grand entrance of Le Mirage Noir, the most exclusive casino in the city. It looms before you, opulent and decadent, its golden glow bleeding onto the cobblestone streets. A playground for the rich, the corrupt, and the dangerous.

The grand stairs leading up to its entrance feel like a runway. You walk them as if they were, each step a statement, each movement calculated.

A guard eyes you as you approach, but you don’t even spare him a glance. Instead, you slip the gold card from your clutch and place it in his gloved hand. He inspects it briefly before punching in a code. The doors swing open, revealing the private sanctum of the elite. The real game isn’t played on the main floor with common millionaires throwing away their fortunes on roulette and whiskey—it’s played here, in the shadows, where the stakes are more than money.

A woman in a tight red dress, iPad in hand, scans the room. "The game will begin after when our last guest arrives," she announces, her voice clipped and professional.

You barely acknowledge her, the scent of aged whiskey and burning cigars lingers in the air, mixing with the quiet tension that settles over the room. You slide into a seat at the opulent card table, ignoring the curious glances from men who think they’ve never seen a woman like you before. They are wrong, of course. They have seen your kind in their nightmares.

And then, the air changes.

A presence strong, deliberate, commanding.

Choi San.

You knew he would be here. His reputation precedes him, though no criminal record taints his name, the best predators leave no trace. His business dealings are whispered behind closed doors, and tonight, you are finally close enough to see for yourself.

His dark hair is slicked back, not a strand out of place, features sharp enough to carve into the weak. The suit clings to his broad shoulders, but it’s the lack of a shirt underneath that draws eyes. The sharp lines of his torso are on display, a deliberate provocation. He moves with a confidence most men fake, his presence a force even before he speaks.

He slides into the seat beside you, and the scent of his cologne, a blend of cedar-wood and something deeper, more dangerous wraps around you like a silk noose.

“Game will now begin.” The dealer announces, his uniform crisp, his tone devoid of emotion.

Rules are read and cards are dealt. The game is simple but the true game is not in the cards; it is in the glances, the subtle movements, the power play beneath the surface.

You are aware of San’s eyes drifting to you occasionally, studying, assessing. He leans slightly closer as he picks up his cards, his voice a quiet murmur, meant only for you.

"I don’t believe we’ve met."

His accent filled your ears, you don’t look at him immediately. Let him wait. When you do turn, it is with the ease of someone unimpressed yet vaguely entertained. "Haven’t we?" You muse, taking a slow sip from your crystal glass. "I feel like we have."

His lips curl slightly at the edges, a ghost of amusement dancing across his face. "No, I would remember."

"How flattering." You say dryly, placing your bet without hesitation. The dealer moves to San. He doesn’t even glance at his chips as he matches your wager effortlessly.

The room hums with quiet tension, the soft clink of glasses and the shuffle of cards a background symphony to the game unfolding before you. Your fingers rest lightly against your stack of chips, your expression unreadable.

San studies you, his gaze carrying the weight of someone who rarely meets his equal at the table whether it be in business, in power, or in danger. His fingers tap against the green velvet, a single, rhythmic beat, like a countdown to something inevitable.

"You play with confidence," he remarks, his voice smooth, rich like aged whiskey. "But confidence can be mistaken for recklessness."

You turn your head meeting his eyes, "And hesitation can be mistaken for weakness." You counter.

San lets out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating between you. He enjoys this. The push and pull, the veiled threats wrapped in silk words.

The dealer flips the next card. A queen of hearts.

Your pulse remains steady, though you can feel the shift in the game. This is not just about winning. Not in the way these men at the table think.

Your true game is being played between glances, in the way your fingers trail the rim of your glass, the way San watches the movement, as if deciphering a secret code.

"Tell me," he muses, placing his next bet without looking. "Does a woman like you follow rules?"

The way he asks makes it clear he already has his own theories.

You lean in slightly, close enough that your perfume something dark, laced with jasmine and intrigue mingles with the scent of his cologne. "I could ask you the same thing." You murmur, a ghost of a smirk on your lips.

San’s gaze darkens just slightly, something shifting behind those sharp, unreadable eyes. "Perhaps, but I have a feeling we both already know the answer."

The final card is revealed.

A heartbeat of silence.

Then, San places his hand down, revealing his cards. A strong hand. One that would crush most opponents.

But not you.

You let the moment stretch before flipping yours over, stronger. Unbeatable.

A slow, deliberate victory.

San exhales through his nose, a quiet huff of amusement rather than frustration. He lifts his glass, tilting it toward you in a silent toast. "Impressive."

You accept the compliment with the slightest tilt of your head. "I know."

The dealer clears the table, sweeping away the remnants of the game, but the real match, the one unspoken, lingering between you and San remains unfinished. The weight of his gaze presses against you as he stands, fastening the single button of his suit jacket with an almost lazy confidence.

He extends a hand, palm up, an unspoken invitation. “Join me for a drink?”

You let a beat pass, letting the moment stretch just enough to make him wait. Then, with an almost amused tilt of your head, you place your fingers in his. His grip is steady, warm, but never desperate. A man who is used to control.

At the bar, a glass of deep red wine appears in front of you before you even speak. San slides onto the stool beside you, his own drink. A dark amber whiskey already in hand.

“You don’t second-guess yourself,” he observes, his eyes locked on yours over the rim of his glass. “That kind of certainty isn’t common.”

You take your time with your drink, savoring the taste before you respond. “Certainty comes from knowing exactly what you want.”

A small, knowing smile plays at the corners of his mouth. “And what is it that you want?”

You set your glass down gently, your fingers tracing the rim. Then, you turn toward him, your expression unreadable, but your voice smooth as silk.

“What makes you think I’d tell you?”

Perhaps it was the drinks or perhaps it was the way his gaze lingered on your exposed thigh through the slit in your dress, or how he would slowly lick his bottom lip, or even how his knee would gently nudge yours, each time with a quiet, unspoken tension.

Maybe that’s what led to this moment.

Pressed against the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse, the city lights flickering in the background, his lips trailed down your neck as he pulled your coat off with an urgent intensity.

Your fingers deftly undid the button of his jacket, your hands trailing down the hard line of his abs. He smirked against your neck, the heat of his breath sending a shiver through you, before his lips found yours again.

The kiss was far from gentle; it was raw, desperate, a battle for control. San’s hands slid down your waist, his nails biting into your sides, making you gasp against his mouth. He yanked you closer, and your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck. In an instant, your legs circled his torso as he lifted you effortlessly.

He carried you down the dimly lit hallway and into his room, where you were roughly thrown onto the plush, king-sized bed. His jacket was tossed aside, his strong arms on full display, the noticeable bulge in his pants making your pulse quicken. You bit your lip at the sight. “Let’s see how good you feel, darling,” he murmured.

He tugged your ankles, dragging you closer with ease. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you pressed your heel against his chest, a sly grin playing on your lips as you applied just a bit of pressure. His grip on your ankle tightened, but he didn’t stop you. Slowly, you dragged your heel down his chest, stopping right at the bulge straining against his pants.

“Let’s see what you’re hiding under there.” You teased, your heel pressed against it gently. Your eyes locked with his, dark and heavy lidded. He let out a low scoff, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Come on, I'm waiting, darling." You taunted mirroring his smirk, tilting your head slightly. The mockery in your tone didn’t go unnoticed, and you could see the way his jaw tensed. You had him right where you wanted. You had the upper hand now, and you both knew it.

He catches your ankle, gripping it tightly, pushing it aside. “You’ve got a sharp tongue,” he says, the amusement evident in his voice, but the dangerous edge never leaves. In one smooth motion, he shifts, pulling you closer, his body settling between your legs. His fingers trace the line of your thigh, sending warmth trailing up your body as he whispers, “But sharp tongues tend to get bitten.”

You bit your bottom lip as his hand slid under your silky dress, his gaze locked on yours, never wavering. His fingers brushed your heat, and he let out a low hum, feeling how soaked you were through your panties. Without a word, he pushed them aside and slipped a finger inside. The soft moan that escaped your lips only made his eyes darken with hunger as his finger curled inside you.

San slowly withdrew his finger, and in an instant, you were flipped onto your stomach. He yanked your dress down, followed by the lace panties you wore. The sound of his zipper being undone made you turn your head just slightly, and as he pulled down his pants and boxers, his large length was revealed. He reached over to the nightstand, pulling out a condom.

He held the edge of the gold wrapper between his teeth as he grabbed your legs pulling you closer to the edge, your eyes lifting to catch his reflection in the large mirror in front of you. With a practiced motion, he tore open the wrapper and slid the condom on.

"Going to fill you up so good." He whispered, his voice low and steady. He crouched down, parting your cheeks, and ran his tongue over your heat, making you flinch at the unexpected sensation.

His nails dug into your skin as he continued, flicking his tongue with steady precision. You moaned, your body reacting to the pleasure. San stood upright, positioning himself at your entrance, and slowly pushed in, making sure you took every inch.

"Fuck-"

"Taking it so well, aren't you?" He chuckled, his nails digging into your sides, and you knew the marks would bruise later. One hand gripped a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back. Your eyes met his in the mirror, a trail of drool slipping from the corner of your lips. "Look at the mess you’ve become for me."

He suddenly pulled away, leaving you gasping at the emptiness. With a swift motion, he turned you onto your back, leaning down to take your breasts in his hands. He tugged at one, his mouth closing around it as his tongue teased the hardened tip. Your hands instinctively fisted in his hair, pulling him closer.

He surged forward, pressing his lips to yours once more, the kiss growing deeper. A soft moan escaped you as he entered you again, and you bit down hard on his bottom lip, making him groan lowly. The sharp, metallic taste was mingled with the sweetness of the kiss.

His hand tightened around your throat, breaking the kiss as he gazed down at you, a mess beneath him. With each hard thrust, he kept pushing deeper, his thumb tracing the trail of saliva from your lips, sliding into your mouth. The room echoed with the sounds of your bodies colliding, the air thick with heat and desire.

"You're so tight." He whispered, the words making you tighten instinctively around him. He groaned as you wrapped your legs around him, pushing him deeper. "Can you feel me in your stomach?" He breathed out thrusting into you harder. You could only hum in response, words slipping away in the overwhelming sensation.

San lifted himself, placing one of your legs over his shoulder as he began to rub your clit, causing your back to arch. "Ahh—San," you moaned, your head turning as your eyes rolled, unable to hold back the wave of pleasure but you couldn't finish yet.

"Let me... mmm... ride you." You whispered, your words barely audible. His movements froze, and he slowly pulled away. You gripped his arm, pulling him down onto the bed. He settled onto his back as you kicked off your heels and crawled toward him.

With deliberate slowness, you sank down on him, a groan escaping his lips as you took him in completely. You threw your head back as he filled you, the sensation overwhelming. Gently, you began to move your hips, building a steady rhythm.

"Your dick feels so good inside me." You moaned out unable to hold the sinful words coming from your mouth. "I bet it does, baby girl." His hands firmly on your hips, guiding your movements to quicken. A tingling sensation on your clit caused your walls to tighten.

Your hands grip his shoulders firmly as you move rhythmically on his cock, leaning forward with louder moans while your nipples brush against his chest, pushing him even deeper.

The warmth creeping through your body intensified with each slide downward. He cupped your chin, lifting it gently to press his lips against yours.

Your legs grew weaker as your walls tightened around him. San pushed upward with greater speed and intensity, causing you to cry out from the overpowering pleasure. "Oh God, I’m abo-"

"Me too, baby, me too."

With one final movement, you both reached your peak. You collapsed onto his heaving chest, your legs trembling and both your breath mingling in the aftermath.

Dark But Just A Game

#choi san #choi san x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #kpop #fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez #choi san x y/n #choi san x you #choi san x female reader #san x reader #ateez smut

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cozymochi · 7 months ago

Note

If you don't mind oc questions, how does Nyoka, Emilio and Cecil feel about the prefect?

Do they see MC as a nuisance? Or someone interesting for managing to deal with 4 overblots? Excluding Jamil, Vil, and Malleus since it wasn't public to the entire school and since book 7 isn't finished yet

I ACCEPT OC QUESTIONS!!! they keep me from dwelling on doom :’) 💖 I know I answered something similar to this before but I’m going to use this to do better since this is non-specific (my old answer sucked anyway since I was unprepared). For simplicities, sake I’m going to disregard all OBs since the general Prefects involvement with them is barely addressed in a diegetic way to begin with outside of Book 3. So that’s a non-factor going forward.

——

Across all three boys I think they probably find the Prefect/MC to be a nuisance. But mostly framed under that “NRC great-mages-in-training with huge egos” finding the fact that a human with NO magic gets to be a student there (with Grim) for #reasons to be kind of insulting. It’s just a territorial and pride thing common for majority of the students there. These three aren’t exempt from that. But, they do act out in different ways.

Since Emilio is so shameless, Emilio will take any potshot to undermine the Prefect’s status, accomplishments (if any) and their popularity, even is this popularity is more so “infamy” than anything else (which it is). They are in the same grade level, so encounters are more frequent. I think he probably sees a bit of himself in the Prefect, and ends up projecting onto them more than he should. He’ll probably warm up eventually though depending on how development goes, but it will not be an easy task, assuming this Prefect is a general good faith person. And yes, he would apologize and take every moment to atone for his behavior if they ever became friends.

Cecil, despite his own issues, would rather ignore the Prefect and generally wants nothing to do with them. I don’t think he’d be mean like Emilio, just a little snarky if they crossed paths. But he’s just naturally pretty snarky despite his bumbling nature. He wouldn’t do anything though. He doesn’t know it yet but it’s not really in him to be all that mean. He does know that Housewarden Malleus regards the Prefect highly, but can’t understand why. If the Prefect were to an extend a friendly hand first towards Cecil and remain persistent (persistence is key), then Cecil would eventually come around tenfold. I think a Prefect friendship would do Cecil some good. Maybe even improve his magical performance even— who knows 👍

Nyoka sees the Prefect as prey. A mouse, even. That is food. However, in general Nyoka doesn’t regard the Prefect at all and would rather ignore them. This is pretty easy to do since they wouldn’t be too likely to cross paths. If they did though, in a non-confrontational way provided they keep a respectful distance, he would be deferential and civil. On paper this sounds good, but this is not exactly a warm scenario. Rule of thumb is to just not engage. If they did somehow frequently cross paths and a Prefect were to remain respectful of his space (and perhaps engage with his interests) then maybe that civility would become genuine. He might find the idea of a predator becoming slightly chummy with prey a little amusing, in its own way.

lol like how I spun this into “BUT WHAT IF FRIENDS???” Scenario

THANKS BYE

(OH right. @servamp01 )

#cozy ask #my art #twstposting #twst oc #ERRRM OKAY LETS TAG SOME BOYS #Emilio estrada alvarez #cecil mugwort #nyoka wadjet #twst grim #starring grim as the placeholder #flop hall of fame

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tauforged · 8 months ago

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if we assume warframes have some amount of biological function rather than being meat suits, it would only stand that in the process of becoming protoframes, the hex would not only change appearance-wise but the way their bodies FUNCTION would change as well as their behavior. I don't have solid ideas for everyone YET, BUT i'll elaborate on what i have so far below...

we don't have a lot of solid info about how cyte-09's kit would work, but being that he's a sniper-centric frame, it makes sense that quincy would start to subconsciously adapt to that 'ambush predator' function, in terms of behavior and also metabolism.

instinctually he feels safest/most comfortable when he's somewhere High Up and Isolated. he likes a vantage point, not much else to it. randomly feeling compelled to climb on top of shit and Perch even outside of patrols while just hanging out because it just feels more secure

bradymetabolic -- his 'natural' state is objectively slowed down in comparison to a normal human being, his resting heartrate is slow his body temp tends to be lower and he can go considerably longer in between meals if he isn't actively making an effort to eat on a schedule. his body is rewiring itself to be best suited towards finding a vantage point and lying in wait, staying as still as possible and expending as little energy as he can until the moment is just right.

HOWEVER, the moment something triggers him to act fast (usually in combat situations although its technically a 'prey response') his metabolism will kick into overdrive and he strikes FAST. for the brief period where he's active, heart rate and body temp shoot up and he burns through however much energy he's been storing in the interim. once the adrenaline wears off, though, he's back to business as usual. if he's in a high-energy situation for an extended amount of time, though, he runs the risk of exhausting himself, hyperventilating, or overheating.

tends to blink less than it seems like he should and picks up a habit of unintentionally holding his breath. trigger finger twitches unintentionally when he's focused on something/someone in a way that kinda resembles how dart frogs will tap their toes while hunting or how the raptors in jurassic park click their claws on the ground. develops and exaggerated freeze response -- when something startles him when he isnt expecting it, he goes completely stock still in an attempt to 'blend in' and wait out the threat.

on the opposite end, amir adopts a fucking hummingbird metabolism. he runs hot and fast and needs to eat a lot more than you would expect because his body is CONSTANTLY. GOING. he's somewhere int he middle between regular human and obligate nectar-eater -- he processes sugars WAY faster/easier than normal and is pretty dependent on them for energy in the immediate moment, although he does still have the capacity to store longer-lasting energy for later rather than having to eat every thirty minutes lest he starve to death. the more active he is, the more demand is on him, though and he is VERY fucking active. he's built to be on the move 24/7 now, and gets really antsy when 'at rest' because even when wholly idle his body burns energy like a motherfucker and it makes him restless. constantly craving sweet things because his body is demanding sugar NOW or we are going to DIE (this is not true, he's mostly being dramatic, but he DOES feel adverse effects from lack of food or water much sooner than he normally would)

can take short rests that are basically like power naps where he sleeps "normal", but when he actually Sleep sleeps he goes into a torpor state to preserve his energy, slowing down and dropping his body temp and it takes him between 20min to an hour to actually Wake Up completely. does not like doing this but while his body is meant to be constantly moving, his brain still runs on a human schedule and he Needs to get actual sleep. he needs to hard reboot every couple days or else he starts fighting demons. you know how it is.

aside from inconvenient desires to eat raw meat/random animals (imagining excal as an obligate carnivore just feels right), arthur isn't too METABOLICALLY different from the average human, but behaviorally he is fighting for his life. in contrast to quincy preferring open, elevated spaces, arthur is compelled to seek out dark tight enclosed spaces and hole up like a sick animal looking for a place to die (he's fine, but the way he's always stressing out crosses some wires in his brain and makes him Feel like he's dying)

you can tell when arthur and quincy have been getting on eachothers nerves or arguing because they will Immediately retreat to their respective territories to Sulk (quincy starts climbing on top of the stage light scaffolding, arthur is in the security office trying to find a dignified way to crawl under a table). it's objectively really funny to witness. they both do this when theyre in bad moods but when theyre BOTH doing it the chance of it being coincidence is very very low

both arthur and eleanor are VERY catlike, not really in a cutesy fun 'uwu nya' way, but in a 'bites people and knocks shit over and gets random bursts of energy at ungodly hours and feels compelled to chase things that move like prey' way . eleanor leans into this and does not care, she is biting you as a show of affection and you WILL accept that. arthur hates it and suppresses it at all times. catboy instincts calling to him like the green goblin mask 24/7

in tandem with the 'aoi's teeth are more like a squid beak and are dark in color because they're reinforced with metal' hc ive discussed before, i feel like she might feel the urge to try and Consume metallics somehow to feed that process. or maybe her constant melting down and playing with metal is how she assimilates it. not sure yet

i have not many ideas regarding trinity or lettie yet because i almost never play trin and dont have a good handle on how her kit would translate to biological functions LMFAOO im so sorry girl i love you so much but im still chewing on this one. welcome to ideas!

aaand of course, the conversation that started it all:

and the grand finale: bullying arthur

#thank the lord for the extended image limit on desktop LMFAO #but. yeah. sorry for the novel . i just think theyre neat!#warframe 1999 #quincy isaacs #arthur nightingale #amir beckett #eleanor nightingale #I REALLY BADLY WANTED TO INCLUDE AOI AND LETTIE MORE BUT IM STILL CHEWING ON IDEAS FOR THEM AND IF I WAIT ANYLONGER TO POST THIS ILL LOSE I #SORRY GIRLS

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pincushionx · 7 months ago

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Is needing raw meat and blood the only traits hunter has in this AU? or does he have others?

Nope, our boy developed increased senses like better smell, hearing and eyesight. One big difference between Hunter and the other witches is that his ears are constantly moving, detecting every little sound and are more emotive in general. It’s cute if not odd to the other witches.

One clear difference is his teeth. While witches can have fangs, Hunter chompers are absolute killers compared to theirs. His canines jut outwards a bit to stab into his prey and hook his teeth under their skin, making it impossible to escape without causing excessive bleeding. His later incisor and first molar are sharp to tear into meat better. The rest molars are relatively normal if not a bit sharper than usual. He does have an extremely strong jaw that can break through bone, fun when eating jaw breakers but also means if he gets you, he ain’t letting go without at least a piece of you with him.

His biggest differences are in the inside with his digestive system with developing a smaller intestine, colon and cecum making it difficult to get any sort of nutrients from normal food. He found that outside of raw meat and blood, raw eggs and certain dairy products are fairly good. (Fish too but that’s included in meat)

Eyes constricting happened during hunting since it’s a way to protect the eyes if sun is out. Basically the pupil and iris getting really small.(it also makes him look a bit scary)

Their some other grimwalker head canons thrown in here like immunity to the heat like boiling rain and fire, lack of pulse, stone lungs when sleeping, and being able to hold his breathe for a really long time. This is all to build Grimwalkers to be super predators in a way, something for witches to fear. heheh they’re kinda like cats.

Thank you for the ask :33

Here’s some extra references

#I love speculative biology #fantasy biology?#any who this was just to provide some explanation to Hunter grimwalker anatomy #my art #the owl house #my asks #ghoul hunter au #ghoul au #hunter toh #hunter the owl house #hunter the golden guard #the owl house hunter #toh hunter #grimwalker biology #Grimwalkers are lil creatures #the owl house au

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bethanythebogwitch · 3 months ago

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Wet Beast Wednesday: true water bugs

A while back, I made a Wet Beast Wednesday post about aquatic insect larvae. In that post, I said I'd do another one on aquatic adult insects. Well the time has come, but there are too many aquatic insects to do a whole post about. Instead I decided to cover one group of them, the true water bugs of the clade Nepomorpha. These are all members of the true bug order Hemiptera notable for their aquatic lifestyles, though some spend much of their time on shore and a few species can even fly. Like the larvae post, I'll split this up into brief overviews of some notable groups.

(Image: the water scorpion Nepa Cinerea in a threat posture. It is a large, brown, beetle-like insect. The front pair of legs are developed into mantis-like grasping limbs. The wings are spread, revealing a red abdomen. A tube-like tail extends from the rear end. End ID)

Probably the most famous of the Nepomorpha are the giant water bugs of family Belostomatidae. Also known as toe-biters, alligator ticks, and electric light bugs, these bugs are know for their extremely painful bites. Like other Nepomorphs, their mouthparts are fused into a proboscis which they use to pierce the hides of their prey. They then releases digestive venom into the prey, causing its insides to liquefy for the bug to suck back up. The bites of giant water bugs are described as being excruciatingly painful, but are not medically significant. Giant water bugs look similar to beetles, but their front pair of legs are modified into grasping claws that are used to grab prey and hold it still. In insects, grasping limbs like this are called raptorial. They are primarily ambush predators and their prey includes other invertebrates as well as small fish and amphibians. The largest species are in the genus Lethocerus, which are large enough to hunt young turtles and snakes. The largest can reach over 12 cm (4.7 in), making them the largest of the true bugs. Members of Lethocerus are also powerful flyers known to congregate around electric lights during mating season. After mating, the female lays her eggs on the male's back. He will protect them until they hatch, though he is rendered flightless during this period and cannot mate again until they hatch. Females will mate many times each season. The species Lethocerus indicus is often eaten fried in southeast Asia.

(Image: a giant water bug standing on a stick just below the surface of the water. It is a large, brown, beetle-like bug with a distinct head and large eyes. The front legs are adapted into grasping claws. It has grabbed a small, silvery fish and is feeding on it. End ID)

(Image: a female and male giant water bug having recently mated. They are visually similar, but the male is carrying eggs on his back. They are light brown, oval structures laid in a large cluster. End ID)

Similar in appearance and lifestyle to the giant water bugs are the much smaller creeping water bugs of family Naucoridae. While their lifestyle as sit-and-wait predators who use raptorial front legs to catch prey and a proboscis to inject digestive venom is very similar to that of the giant water bugs, they max out in size at about 1.3 cm (1/2 in). Despite being much smaller than giant water bugs, their bites are reported to be far more painful, among the most painful of insect bites, though still not medically serious. They trap bubbles of air beneath their wings to bring an air supply with them as they dive.

(Image: a creeping water bug. It resembles a giant water bug but with shorter limbs and a less distinct head. Its body is yellowish with darker brown patched and dark wings folded over its body. End ID)

Water scorpions are members of the family Nepidae. All true water bugs have a tube-like structure on their rear ends called the siphon that is used to intake air from the surface of the water. The Nepinae have siphons that are much longer than those of other true water bugs which, combined with their raptorial front limbs, has given them the nickname water scorpions. The water scorpions are divided into two subfamilies, Nepinae and Ranatrinae. The Nepinae have rounded bodies that make them look very similar to giant water bugs while the more common Ranatrinae have slender, elongated bodies that make them look more like stick insects. Water scorpions lay their eggs in mud of vegetation near the water line and prefer slow moving or still water habitats. The family is highly adaptable and has species adapted to hypersaline salt lakes and brackish waters as well as an eyeless, cave-dwelling species found in hypoxic water in Movile cave, Romania. Water scorpions are predators that target invertebrates, tadpoles, and small fish. Their bites are painful to humans, but not dangerous.

(Image: a Ranatrinid water scorpion held on someone's hand. It is a very long, skinny insect with long, slender legs and forelimbs adapted into raptorial claws. A long-strait tail almost as long as the body emerged from its back. Its grabbing limbs are interacting with another, smaller insect. End ID)

Some true water bugs with a disputed taxonomy are the backswimmers, pygmy backswimmers, and Helotrephids. Typically, backswimmers are placed in the family Notonectidae while the other two are in the family Pleoidea, but some taxonomists argue they should all be in the same family. Backswimmers and pygmy backswimmers have similar body plans and lifestyles, with size being the main difference between them. Both are beetle-like bugs that swim with their bellies facing up. The hind pair of legs is longer than the first two pairs and hairy, allowing them to be used as paddles when swimming. Unlike many other water bugs, which primarily crawl around their habitats and act as ambush predators, backswimmers are powerful swimmers who actively hunt prey as large as tadpoles and small fish. Their front limbs are raptorial and they are capable of flight. Pygmy backswimmers similarly swim upside down and hunt prey, tiny invertebrates in their case. Both groups also have a soft part on their abdomens they use to store air bubbles, which can be refreshed by a trip to the surface. Helotrephids are a sister group to the pygmy backswimmers and are less adapted to swimming, instead crawling for most of the time. Backswimmers can deliver a painful but non-dangerous bite to humans while both pygmy backswimmers and Helotrephids are too small to pierce human skin with their proboscises.

(Image: a backswimmer using surface tension to cling to the surface of the water. It is an insect whose back legs are much longer than the others and have hairy, paddle-like tips used for swimming. It is light brown and has large eyes. end ID)

Similar in appearance to backswimmers are the water boatmen and pygmy water boatmen of families Corixidae and Micronectidae (pygmy water boatmen were formerly classified as also being in Corixidae). The easiest way to tell water boatmen and backswimmers apart is to look at their posture while swimming. While backswimmers swim belly-up, water boatmen swim belly-down. Their four back limbs are long and end in scoop-like tarsi that act as paddles while the forelimbs are shorter and hairier and used for swimming instead of the raptorial forelimbs that backswimmers have. Like backswimmers, water boatmen are powerful swimmers that hunt prey. Unlike all other true water bugs, not all water boatmen are predatory. there are omnivorous, detritovorous, and even entirely herbivorous species that feed on algae and aquatic plants. Note that in some places, water boatmen are known as lesser water boatmen while backswimmers are called greater water boatmen.

(Image: a water boatman clinging to a green fiber. It is a beetle-like bug with long, hairy back legs and shorter front legs. Its body is brown, with numerous small, yellow stripes along the back. End ID)

Two closely related families of true water bugs that live along the shore rather than in water are the toad bugs of Gelastocoridae and the velvety shore bugs of Ochteridae. Both are named for their appearance, with toad bugs being warty and capable of jumping while the velvet shore bugs are known for the extremely fin hairs some species have that helps keep them dry. Toad bugs are predators of other insects who leap onto prey and hold it down with their raptorial front legs. Velvety shore bugs are believed to hunt similarly and can fly.

(Image: a toad bug held on the tip of someone's finger. It is a small, beetle-like bug with a lumpy back and head and short, grasping forelegs. End ID)

The last well-known of the true water bugs are the closely-related families Aphelocheiridae and Potamocoridae, about which almost nothing is known.

(Image: a member of Aphelocheiridae, a small, beetle-like bug with grasping front legs. End ID)

True water bugs are a very successful group, living in freshwater and (in some species) brackish water all over the world, with only the poles being too cold for them. If you spend enough time around fresh water, you will probably see one eventually. If you do, take a look, but don't touch. You never know which ones can give you a very painful bite.

(Image: a giant water bug with its wings extended, standing on grass. End ID)

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praxieserver · 28 days ago

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The Wolf (He/They/It)

(hi i made a cotl oc) God of Life, adolescent deity, and a loony drunk— Wolf!

they're very much still in the concept art/development stage but i have maaaaaaany brainworms of them that i would like to release. so see under the cut if you want in

Lore

Significantly younger than the Bishops, a few centuries older than the Lamb. Usurped the original God of Life shortly after the start of the Bishops hunt for the lambs.

Visited the afterlife often to deliver souls to Death's Domain. Stayed for a quite a while too, to watch, observe, and mourn. Narinder took notice, seeing as they were one of the few Gods that remained, let alone dare visit the domain of the Bishops.

Had a Divine Contract with Narinder. The exact details of such are only known between the two of them, and as of the Lamb's ascension that contract has since been void.

Strives for an amicable relationship with the Crown of Death, with the belief that Life and Death are parts of a cycle that ought to be in equilibrium. Even if the current holder of the Crown believes both should be in his hands.

Is very lucky that Narinder was chained and still raw from battlng his siblings when they visited the afterlife.

His dominion includes all living life/souls, and only the living. Can control elements of nature/plants, can de-age or further age living beings, and can grant immortality to others under specific instances.

In terms of combat they basically have Lamb's powers with a flower power skin on, and they're just a bit stronger (if only due to having more experience in handling their powers). Very fast though.

His territory is on an entirely different island. Timeline-wise, he visits the Land of The Bishops after or during Lamb freeing the Bishops from Purgatory to investigate the sudden loss of authority in the Afterlife and the apparent purging of The Bishops.

Concept Notes

Made them a white dog to contrast Narinder being a black cat.

Additionally, gave them the title of "The Wolf" while being the God of Life as a point of irony with "The Lamb" being death; the supposed predator represents life while the supposed prey represents death. (He's not actually a wolf, but he is a canine)

His "crown" is pink and bears a diamond shape because i like it and because I thought it would represent well the aspect of life and death being interconnected/cyclical through their colors simply being a different shade/different tint than the other, but also represent their distinct separation by making them separate crowns?

To extend the previous point, this is also in reference to the fact that in COTL lore (atleast according to the wiki) Narinder was the only who could not offer his followers the inverse of his domain in the way his siblings could (The Bishops' followers allegedly prayed for knowlege, medicine, bountiful harvest, safety, etc. just the general opposite of their dominions, and i assume they granted it to their faithful) So I thought it'd be interesting if the opposite of Narinder's dominion is an entirely separate crown altogether since they are both "constants"

Hence why I also said Wolf is lucky that Narinder was chained and beat up when they visited the afterlife lol if Nari was any more energetic he would have killed them and absorbed their ass

Lastly made their crown a ribbon instead as a visual representation of them not being particularly power-hungry/a sign to the lamb that they are not similar to the bishops in hostility. It still is a crown it just takes the form of a ribbon bc its chill like that

Based off of working dogs, herding dogs specifically. (Samoyed, Swiss White Shepherd, Alaskan Malamute, etc.)

that's all folks please send me ask and questions about this guy THANK YOU

#myart #cult of the lamb #cotl #cult of the lamb oc #cotl oc #cult of the lamb original character #cotl original character #cult of the lamb fanart #cotl fanart #cult of the lamb narinder #cotl narinder #The Wolf

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reallyhatethiswebsite · 6 months ago

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for @artilaz

afab gn tav, voice kink, smug insufferable raphael

The devil just kept appearing when he wasn’t wanted. It didn't seem to matter how Tav or their companions always told him to buzz off, that they weren't interested in his infernal offers. Raphael was a persistence predator, and every time he showed his handsome mug, he was patient and cordial, as if each stale interaction hadn't happened. As if he was so confident they would return to him, they would need him, that their disregard for his generous attention simply slid away like water off a duck's back. He was like a hyena waiting for his cornered prey to fall into his mouth – toying with his food, as Gale had said – and it was infuriating. So when Tav heard that now familiar little sound of hellish teleportation, when the stink of fire and sulphur flooded their nose for a moment, they and their companions shared a grumble. Not this again…

“Haven't you got anything better to do than bother us?” Tav said; they wanted to get the first word in for a change.

Something was…different about Raphael this time. Though he was always polite to a fault, Tav thought that maybe they could sense an undercurrent of irritation or frustration developing from their constant rejection, that even a powerful everlasting creature like him had his limits – wishful thinking, probably. Yet as he stood there, emerging from his portal of hellfire and brimstone, there was a certain energy to him, something in the tilt of his smile, the gleam in his eyes…some kind of dark delight he was thrilled to share. Tav felt on edge, and they weren't the only one. They heard their friends shifting uneasily behind them, moving to grip weapons just in case.

“Now, now,” Raphael crooned, waving his hands in a passive motion. Always so expressive. “There's no need for such a vitriolic response. I'm not here to try and convince you of the error of your ways. Quite the opposite, in fact. At least, for one of you in particular…” His deep, soulful brown eyes stared at Tav, through Tav. I know something interesting about you, they said. Tav's stomach dropped.

“The fuck are you talking about?” Snapped Karlach. Raphael's eyebrow twitched, but he barely glanced at her.

“He's not talking about anything,” said Tav. “He's just being cryptic as usual.” Raphael's twitching eyebrow raised high on his forehead.

“Really?” He drawled with an obnoxious little tilt of his head. Dragged the word out, growly and amused. Deliberate enunciation. Sweat began to bead at Tav's temples, cold fingers of suspicion crawling up their spine. “Talking…such a simple concept, and yet, words…their sounds…can hold so much power.”

The baby hairs on the back of Tav's neck and arms rose. “You know,” they whispered.

“Yessss,” Raphael purred. A viciously smug smirk twisted his features, showing a glimpse of the scheming fiend he truly was. How much he was enjoying their horror and discomfort. “Sweet little mouse…I know.”

“What does he know?” Asked Karlach. “Tav, what's going on?”

“Please, not in front of them,” begged Tav when Raphael's smirk widened.

“As you wish.”

He clicked his fingers and, just like when he first accosted them, Tav found themselves in his House of Hope, at the mercy of its master. Raphael stood, backlit by the roaring fireplace, creating elongated shadows from his human guise. He observed them for a moment in silence, clearly delighted.

“Imagine my surprise,” he said after consideration, speaking in swaying dulcet cadence. “When I learned that the stalwart adventurer rebuffing me at every turn, denying my every attempt at co-operation and treating me as though I were naught but a bothersome snake oil salesman…is the very same adventurer bringing themselves to a breathless, mewling climax each night in secret, beneath their hot and sweaty covers, aroused by thoughts of…ah, how did you phrase it in your throes of ecstasy? My “rich and rumbling baritone”? Creative, I'll give you that.”

“How did you find out?” Demanded Tav despite their mortification.

“I have my ways. Don't fear, I've hardly the spare time on my hands to watch you every night, but let's just say that, for a devil of my calibre…the magnitude of a mortal's lust for me can be something of a beacon through the din of your chaotic realm.”

“Well, then,” Tav muttered miserably. “What's your plan? Are you going to blackmail me into signing your bloody contract?”

“Tempting,” Raphael hummed. He stroked his chin. The way he was looking at Tav made them want to fidget. They resisted the urge. They'd given this devil enough already. “Hmm…no, I think…tonight, little mouse. When your friends are sleeping, when you've tucked yourself so sweetly in bed, when you feel the first embers of desire stirring and your greedy little hands begin to wander…that's when I'll be there.”

“What? What does that mean?!”

Tav received no answer.

“See you soon,” the devil cooed, and Tav was back with their alarmed companions, scrambling for an explanation. Eventually they managed to defuse the situation after they swore they hadn't signed anything and wouldn't sign anything, but in truth they weren't so sure anymore.

They tucked themselves away earlier than normal, when the sun began to sink beyond the horizon. In their thin sleeping clothes, beneath their scratchy blanket. Their small tent, far away enough for some privacy. They lay in their bedroll, listening to their friends talking and milling around without really hearing what they were saying. They were waiting for that sound, that smell. For the indication that the devil was making good on his promise, for whatever insidious purpose he had in mind. To say that Tav was nervous, fraught with anticipation, would be an understatement.

As time passed, as noises from the camp dwindled, Tav's nerves grew. Their eyes stung from staring at the canvas ceiling of their tent. They shifted, stretched their legs, certain that no one but they were awake. Yet the devil didn't appear.

Where are you, Raphael? They thought, too wired to stubbornly fall asleep and snub the fiend again. You said tonight…

He also said other things. Things in the dangerously smooth and terribly attractive voice that had got Tav in this situation in the first place. When your greedy little hands begin to wander… Tav knew, conceivably, what that meant. What Raphael wanted them to do. The question was…were they going to do it?

Little mouse…

He'd never called them that before. The way the syllables melted off his devilish tongue, that deep crooning purr and the implications of the pet name…Tav felt the warmth of arousal tingle and tighten in their belly. They squeezed their thighs together, feeling a brief shock of pleasure. Their body had grown used to nightly masturbation. Looked forward to it, even. Their hand habitually crept under the waistband of their trousers, fingertips brushing through soft curls to touch their sex. To stroke their fattening clit with their index finger, eyes half lidded. Little mouse, little mouse, little mouse…

“My, my…the taste of your unfurling desperation is almost divine…”

Inhaling sharply, Tav yanked their hand away. The devil was a looming shape in their tent, watching them. Tav hadn't heard him arrive.

“What do you want, Raphael?” They hissed.

“A show, of course,” the devil answered bluntly. “You didn't think I'd forgotten your appalling behaviour, did you?”

“You can't be serious…”

“Oh, but I am. After all, my time is precious, and you've wasted enough of it as is.”

“That's your excuse to act like a pervert?”

Raphael threw his head back and laughed. “You poor, naive thing. Perverted? Hardly. But if that's what you want, perhaps I'll wake your friends and have them watch their mighty, fearless leader tremble and sigh and fall apart to nothing but the sound of my voice…”

“You're despicable,” sneered Tav.

“Don't pretend you don't enjoy it,” the devil quipped, tilting his head. “I can smell your excitement…little mouse.” Tav clenched their jaw, trying to fight the shudder that rippled through their body. Raphael had growled those last two words, a spark of fiery orange in his eyes. Flexing his power over Tav. Basking in it. He inhaled deeply, rolling his shoulders “Now…I tire of this banal chatter, much as it excites you, droll as you can be. But fret not. We have far more interesting things to talk about…such as your dripping quim, and how you're going to touch it for me.”

Positioned like a leering gargoyle, Raphael began his instructions; rasping a lewd sermon, his scripture filthy, obscene cruel promises and commands.

“Take off your trousers and part your thighs, pet. Let me see your wanton caresses.”

Tav obeyed. How could they not? Wriggled free of their trousers and spread their knees to let Raphael see their damp curls, flush slick folds and swollen clit peeking from their hood. Hot, sticky flesh they stroked and rubbed to Raphael's throaty, self-satisfied croons.

“Look how wet you are. So desperate. All for the sound of my voice… of course, I can't fault you for your taste, but I wonder…each time you shooed me away, denied even my attempts at conversation…was it because you feared the thrill? Tried to deny it? Or because you longed to hide, to touch yourself to completion faster? Mmm…” The devil sounded like he was getting off, too. Tav bit back a gasp, thinking of him squeezing his thick erection through his clothes. Was it leaking? Did his balls ache, wanting to empty? It didn't matter that Tav knew his arousal wasn't for them, but for the swelling of his ego. They were thrilled all the same. They groaned, pelvic muscles clenching. Fresh slick spilled over their fingers. They dipped a fingertip into their entrance, swirled their clit and pinched it – until their hand was magically forced to stop. Raphael inhaled deeply, releasing a rich chuckle. “Oh, pet…I hope you don't think you're going to be finished already. No, no…you're going to tell me about every little fantasy that's passed through your simple mortal mind, every orgasm you've experienced thanks to me…every dirty thing you've wished I would say…and if I'm satisfied, I might consider letting you rut your pleasure to its peak.”

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #raphael the cambion #fanfic #cringe

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