#i'm making her paw pads yellow too (the paw pads and ear insides will be applique)

[loverdude]

I think I have bought most of the supplies I will need to make Carrie plush become real 😈

[palushiemalis-fr]

She laid downwind at the crest of the hill. The wind rippled her mane and she swished her downy tail back and forth. Body rigid as she scoured the landscape. Her raven pinions fluttered about her ears and she twitched them in annoyance. At the bottom of the valley, a healthy herd of cerdae grazed by the banks of a stream. There was a wobbly foal amongst them, bleating at its weary mother who stumbled as she knelt in the grass. Rynka sighed, she knew just how she felt, she had been following this herd for hours and they hadn't settled into a convenient place to catch them. Now, finally, as hunger gnawed at her insides, she could make her way down the patch of woodland to the east and corner them, forcing them into an uphill chase she would surely win. She stood up and felt a small quiver in her legs. Her heart felt heavy in her chest and her blood felt thin. She needed to eat. Now. She picked her way down an elk trail to a patch of birches and willow, their golden leaves shivering. Autumn made the woods flush with bird song as waxwings and sparrows gorged on the last of the berries. Quail skittered through the brush and a fat toad lolloped across her path. She felt desperate enough to snap at it, but it leapt clear into a puddle and splashed her snout.

Rynka's thoughts turned to sleep for a moment; she could give up her hunt for a few hours and listen to the birds chirp, she could scrounge around for mice or snakes as it got dark. She shook herself out of it -- no, she needed to eat, she could grow too weak to get up. Then who knows, she could become the prey. Her mind was clouded with hunger, anxiety and frustration. Perhaps she was wrong to have left Dragon Home, insisting she could fend for herself. This was only her second Autumn and she had crossed half of Sornieth, avoiding dragons wherever she could. She was a seeker and a hunter, and there was no backing down from that call. "Hello?" This is how a blundering dragon managed to make her jump out of her skin. With a short, sharp scream Rynka fell over herself with shock. In the distance, she heard the scattered beating of hooves as the Cerdae galloped away. The Gaoler had padded out from behind an Alder with a basket of mushrooms in his mouth. Yellow patchy fur and smudgy black tips as if he'd ran through soot. Twigs and leaf litter tangled in his mane, his tail wagging apologetically. "...Sorry about that." Rynka sputtered and leapt up, taking a defensive stance, "Who are you to ruin my hunt?" The dragon cocked his head, "I've never seen a dragon hunt alone... Oh, but I'm Pen. Penemue." He held out a paw to shake, it was her turn to stare at him in confusion. "Uh, I am sorry about your hunt. There's food back at the lair if you want, we're happy to have guests. I guess I owe you after scaring that herd away. I mean, its the least I can do." Rynka bared her teeth at the suggestion before she felt the pit of her stomach grow sore. It had been days since she had eaten, the last few nights she had slept through rain and thunder. The pads of her paws were cracking and blistering. She felt hollow and ragged. "I... accept this proposal." She sighed, "I admit, I could use somewhere to sleep as this storm passes through. I provide myself, I will bring ample food after I recover." "Of course, we wouldn't let anyone sleep out in the cold! Unless they wanted to -- we have a few tundras and obelisks who don't mind being out in the snow, y'know. I don't mind much either, but I prefer having a nice warm fire place. Qian Xue likes to take off to the Ice territory now and then, he says he makes a thing called an igloo to sleep in. Its like a house made of snow, its wild! But then again, everyones a bit strange sometimes, like me, they said there weren't any mushrooms left in the season but I knew about this woodland and..." Pen chattered away as she followed behind him, trailing out of the woodland to the top of the valley. A grand lair of sandstone rose out of the horizon, dragons circled up above and sauntered below. None were thin, all were bright eyed and had kindly voices. She ate stew, lamb that fell off the bone with what she learnt was rosemary and thyme, and plenty of mushrooms. She combed her mane and washed in miraculously warm water. She was given a small chamber, with no wind or rain or frost. There were blankets. She hadn't used a blanket since she was a child. Pen offered to light a fire and roast chestnuts in the embers as he read from a book of epic poems to break the silence. Rynka fell asleep next to her new companion as he wittered the night away.

[ikevamp-shrine]

Hii i'm just wondering if you're taking regular requests? Like, not the nsfw ABC one? If you are, then can i maybe request a hc of how the boys would react when they're getting turned on from something MC does but she doesn't realize it? (If everyone is too much then just Arthur, Vincent, Isaac, Dazai and Mozart hehe) anyways, thanks in advance!

Yes I am still taking requests. (I really enjoyed this one) Thank you for requesting and if you would like me to do the rest of the residents just say so and I shall do as you ask. Enjoy.

Author: @ikevamp-shrine

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Character(s): Le Comte, Sebastian, Arthur, Vincent, Dazai, Mozart, Isaac

Pairing: x Female MC

Word count: 2183

Warnings: mentions of blood, character unwillingly being watched while naked, nsfw (barely though)

Le Comte 

His body rocked gently with the carriage; the movement already lulling her to into a deep sleep. Moonlight trickled in from the window, caressing her skin like ghosts dancing across a marble floor. Her breathing is interrupted, speeding and slowing at times as is she was being pleasured. Her lips parted slightly to release a breathy moan, “…comte.”

The scent of arousal stained the air in the carriage as Comte’s face pinches in pain. “Ma Cherie,” he whispers; the wisps of his voice inaudible to any soul other than himself. “Such a wicked temptress you are.”

He reaches out; her skin warm against the cold pads of his hands. His fingers trace the curve of her reddened cheek, ghosting over the sharp cut of her jaw, dipping lower to kiss the rushing vein of her neck. His fangs pulsed, chest heaved, eyes stalking the female like a wolf would its prey. The pureblood hastily jerked back, hissing as if her skin had scalded him. A quick movement and fangs penetrated the tendon of his thumb, his eyes rolling closed as he reigned in some semblance of control. Releasing his hand, Comte panted, a thin trail of saliva connecting his abused flesh and lips as his nails raked tears in the plush seat below causing white feathers to float down like snow on a cold winter’s morn.

“You shouldn’t leave yourself so vulnerable to me, Ma Cherie… after all, I am a still beast,” he paused his smooth words to watch a ribbon of red seep from the healing marks on his flesh, “and you, a lamb ripe for the taking.”

Dazai

Her skin was flushed from the heat of the thermae, her features relaxed in a soft smile. The candle light illuminated her curves causing her to appear to be what Dazai could only define as a fertility goddess basking in the warmth of light, unbashful to any who might stumble upon the ethereal sight. Her soft breast surrounded by ringlets of wet hair raised as she placed a towel along the top of her head, shifting her hand along the white threads. Water droplets slid down her flesh forcing pale yellowed irises to stalk the clear liquid.

The mysterious turn of his lips seemingly permanently chiseled into the planes of his face dropped into a frown; the want to overtake and claim her body was demanding and too fresh.

Like a wounded animal lapping at its bloodied paw, the beast inside his heart curled, growling, daring anyone to approach him and his possessions. Blood dropped down his chin as his fangs chewed wildly at his lip. His cock raised, sliding against his thigh, swelling with lust and need for the vulnerable female before his trembling form.

Her eyes shot towards the widow mimicking the shiver sliding down her spine; her mind reeling with images of feral yellow eyes watching her, memorizing every dip of her body, but was greeted by a lone tree branch swaying gently in the breeze.

Dazai heaved against the trunk, nails clawing at the harsh bark, moans muffled by the tight palm of his hand as a wet stain slowly spread over the fabric of his clothing, concurring the cloth like the pleasure tumbling through his mind. 

“How far I have fallen,” Dazai whispered, pleasure still rolling through his body, “she who was oblivious to the monster peering through the glass barrier will surely gaze at my dilapidated form with astonishment when the sun kisses the horizon. Innocence dripped from her womanly body like the water warmed by her flesh.”

Dazai smiled a broken smile only men who had been starved of all hope would recognize, “my, how these sinful fingers would corrupt that innocence she holds so close to her breast.”  

Vincent

The stroke of his brush against the canvas was wild, vigorously hurried. The thought of losing the memory chiseled into his mind’s eye fastening his pace. His heart beat with a fury the painter didn’t know was possible as his breath stopped; the air only releasing from his lungs when the pounding in his head became too unbearable.

All she had done was smile, her lashing fluttering, colored orbs bashfully glancing away, a blush staining her cheeks as she tucked a stray piece of silken hair behind her ear. Behind the same ear that glinted with a sliver cuff matching both Theo’s and himself. Vincent’s eyes had widened in absolute disbelief in what he was witnessing. Beauty beyond humanly possible had stood before him; enchanting him, leaving him a slave for her touch.

Every emotion he possessed was being laid bare on the canvas with each brush of color against the skin of the canvas. He worked until red stained the sky, rising over the horizons like the god of war riding a flying chariot. His fingers throbbing with pain from the constant movement, never being allowed a break. He gazed at the painting like a lover would their other half. The oils still vibrant was moisture. Vincent craved for the color of her skin to be beneath his fingers, warming the rough flesh of his palms, not stuck, forever frozen in time, trapped in the same position for all eternity.

His cock strained against the confines of his trouser, lips being tugged into a pained whimper. The smell of linseed oil and turpentine refused to drown out the overwhelming scent of her very being still coating the insides of his lungs. His tongue traced over his fangs; the wonder of the taste of her blood running through his mind. His eyes rolled back as he imagined the softness of her body against his own. His soul was on the canvas- the act a declaration of his love and lust for the woman he had yet to call his. 

“Will you ever look my way, I wonder,” Vincent murmured into the night. His words never being heard by another soul.

Arthur

The door creaked as Arthur pushed it open, stepping into the dimly lit room, the candle on his desk burned down to a nub from the hours of being aflame. It was well past midnight when he had returned from the tavern with Theo, he had told her not to wait for him, but she had tried to stay awake; that much was obvious with the scent of chilled coffee mixing with the sweet smell of her flesh and old paper staining the air. A dark mug placed beside her sleeping form on the nightstand as well as a book, forgotten, tucked between the pads of her fingers. Lips parted slightly to release soft, comforting snores, her hair flowing around her form like wings, the curve of her hips being insinuated by the wrinkled, white fabric of his shirt that clung to her slowly breathing body. The sheets of his bed bunched around her knees; the sweat lightly dampening her forehead a sign of overheating.

Arthur took a sharp inhale of breath at the sight of her heart shaped bottom peeking out from under the shirt. How he would love to see the flesh of her bare bottom rippling from his thrusts as he pounded into her, making her squeal with pleasure.

“Did you do this on purpose? You naughty little minx,” rumbled Arthur. His jaw clicking with movement as he advanced towards his desk, shaking his head to clear his lust filled mind. His stomach grumbled, mouth watering when he noticed the small, mesh pouch of packaged fudge resting on the wooden surface of his desk. Arthur threw his head back, groaning with pleasure, eyes drifting closed as he whispered, a content smile tugging at his soft lips “ass and fudge… damn I love this bird.”

Isaac       

 Isaac shifted his shoulders, forcing a crack to resonate down his back- a regular occurrence the entirety of the day. His form was hunched over his desk, his cheeks flushed, and brows furrowed in concentration; gentle metal clicking reaching her ears. The sheets were soft against her bare legs as she shifted, placing her book down against a nightstand; stretching her arms above her head.

“Isaac,” she hummed.

It took the physicist a few second before he recognized her voice slipping through the air. “Yes, my love?” He responded.

“Does your back hurt?” He didn’t realize she had left her place on his bed to tip toe behind him until her breathy whispers tickled his ear, causing him to jolt slightly.

“A little. The damned thing refuses to stay connected,” the chair creaked under him as he leaned back into his lovers hold, gesturing to the trinket pieces resting on the wooden desk. The warmth from her arms seeped into the skin around his neck while he continued, “I might have to ask Leonardo about it, unless I find-.”

Isaac was irrupted by the strong caress of female fingers shifting over his shirt clad shoulders. Her lips pecking once at the top of his head, thumbs tracing the curve of his tense shoulder blades, digging into his muscles in a pleasant motion.

“Wha-what are you doing?” Stuttered the pale haired man, his hands raising slightly off his lap in shock.

Her slow, relaxed sigh sent a pang of electricity straight to his slowly hardening member, “taking care of you. What else would I be doing?” The flirtatious tone of her voice paired with the warming friction of her fingers against his skin forced Isaac to tug at his tightening trousers; a low whimper being muffled by his teeth, an embarrassed blush warming his ears.

“…the gods help me,” he whispered.

Mozart

The piano was chilled as Mozart leaned against the whitened wood, her giggle forcing a small trimmer to befall his lips. The sweet taste of the chocolate paired with the strong hints of coffee filling slid over his palate like the words falling from hers, “do you like it?”

Her eyes were bright, humorous with a small, barely-there tint of insecurity as he swallowed, smacking his lips to further live in the taste. “It is alright, I suppose,” he mumbled.

She smiled softly, returning to nibble at the half-bitten piece of chocolate resting between her thumb and forefinger. “Ah, its melting!”

Mozart rolled his eyes at her disbelieving tone of voice, answering with his own, “yes. It does that. I thought you weren’t idiotic enough to not acknowledge that-.” His words were caught in his throat as he saw her finger disappearing into the cavern of her mouth; her cheeks hallowing slightly as she sucked at the digit. Her eyes stared at the floor in concentration, her brows being pulled together from the thoughts running through her mind. Slowly her finger reemerged, her lips releasing the flesh with a soft pop.

Mozart swallowed thickly. Denial ran rampant through him at the feeling of his trousers becoming tighter to a point it was somewhat uncomfortable. He could still see the melted brown on her tongue as it darted out, licking at her thumb like a snake scenting the air.

“Wolf? Are you feeling okay? You’re a little red,” her words were close, her breath smelling of cocoa as she placed her lips to his forehead, checking for fever. He sputtered, falling back to place his hands roughly against the ivory keys forcing a deranged concoction of notes to shift through the air, “do not- do not do that…,” he huffed. Wishing nothing more than for the earth to split and swallow him whole at the high-pitched crack of his voice.

Sebastian

His hair was a mess, water still dripped from his chin, his tie loosely dangling around his neck, his breath coming out in hurried pants as Sebastian launched himself into the kitchen, throwing himself into motion only freezing when his lover’s laughs penetrate his ears.

“I’ve never seen you this frazzled Sebastian,” she giggled walking over to him, taking the tie between her fingers and knotting the fabric. She had yet to notice the panicked scowl on his face.

“Why didn’t you wake me up? I don’t see how being late to wake is a laughable matter when it concerns the wellbeing of the residents.”

She glanced up, a brow raising slowly at his accusing tone of voice, “I woke up early and did your portion as well as mine,” she paused, placing a gentle kiss to his wet cheek, smiling gently, “you have been more tired than usual so I figured I let you sleep in.”

Sebastian took a deep breath, wrapping his arms around his lover and letting his head fall back, his eye lids closing as a low groan left his lips, “I love you.”

Her love-drunk giggle made him smile brightly; his stone façade non-existent as his lips locked and parted with her velvet hills quickly. Hands slid down his back to rest against his hips making a shiver run up his spine; heat pooling into his eyes at her affections. He growled lowly, nipping at the shell of her ear, “good girls get rewards, and you’ve been a very good girl.”

Breakfast was a little late that morning.

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