#real monsters prey on real monsters

[frogspawned]

pet peeve is when a story tells us something is aberrant, but it seems to matter more about who does the behavior than the behavior itself. rorschach in snyder's watchmen isn't going too far; we watch nite owl and silk spectre ii snap necks and arms with gleeful, loving abandon, in slow motion no less, while they lecture the audience about rorschach's violence. heroes frequently torture the plot contrivance out of a villain and then moralize to the camera when the villains do the same. indominus rex's killing spree doesn't shock or appall me; all the jurassic world dinosaurs act like mindless killing machines, and the camera lingers, rapturous, on their cruelty. it's not an outlier. there's nothing interesting about it beyond as a set piece.

in a better script, the indominus rex would have had pathos; a chimera made for entertainment, for profit, stitched together with no regard for itself and placed in a lonely box. a freak among freaks. of course it would be mad. but the film wasn't interested in it as an animal, or a character, only as a moving piece of scenery for people to scream at or breathe tensely while it can clearly smell and reach them but doesn't, because it isn't a character and doesn't have motivations.

it's just sort of boring, i suppose. it tries like all other empty drab things do to cover it with bombast and roaring and soaring brassy scores but it's just sort of dull. a sprawl of nothing.

conversely peele's nope is a transcendent monster movie, imo, because it thinks about the the whys and hows, how jean jacket perceives the world, how the world perceives her, and lets that shape the narrative as much as jupe or emerald or gordy. they consulted biologists and behaviorists, digging into the meat of it. the creature as a camera as an animal as a device. nope has layers. it takes its own insane premise seriously, and has something to say, and is a goddamn good movie. i forgot where i was going with this.

[moe-broey]

I am a normal man who is obsessed with Alfonse Fire Emblem. Come closer -- wait nevermind don't worry about it 🧍👍

[feralfanged]

i SWEAR TO GOD if i see one more "41, cis man, misunderstood and twisted daddy, you don't want me babygirl the demons are my lover ⛓️🥀🔪 (looking for a harem of young impressionable barely legal girls to control)" ass bitch i'm going to spontaneously combust into a dom with an insatiable snuff kink and blowing ur fucking brains out

[jimmythejiver]

So Ang aka Recapkid aka Handsome Hugs aka whatever the fuck they calling themselves now* poisoning the discourse while doing exactly in rl what his art portrayed (allegedly) is why we don't get to have nice shit in ZADR fandom anymore, huh.

*My knowledge of Rek/Recapkid saga ended initially when they first made their first dramatic exit in fandom. Everything after is what I had to track down to verify tonight.

[blue-ink-pearls]

So, I know people are really desperate for Sandra Lynn to have hooked up with Pamela Dawn instead of Bobby Dawn, and I completely understand that!* Bobby Dawn is slimy and awful and we don't know much about Pamela, so maybe she's better? But it is 100% Bobby Dawn for two very clear reasons:

Sklonda literally said it was him

Bobby Dawn has always been a predator

The first thing we learn about Sandra Lynn's affair during Spring Break Sophomore Year was that she had just left Aguefort (she dropped out her senior year and got a diploma later on) and she was very young. She was asked to join an established adventuring party of people who were older than her and that had lost one of its members. She fell in love with another member of the party that was already in a relationship, they had an affair, and then when the affair was discovered, Sandra Lynn was blamed, kicked out of the party, and her name was smeared as far and wide as possible by the person who had taken advantage of her so that person could absolve themselves, likely in the eyes of their partner and the party.

So what we can immediately deduce from this is that Sandra Lynn was an outsider to her new adventuring party, likely looked down on as "just a kid", maybe disdained for being a dropout, and most definitely resented for taking the place of the (presumably) dead party member. She was in actively dangerous and stressful situations while questing with the party and she probably had little support from the group during that time.

Sandra Lynn was very very vulnerable.

When he met Sandra Lynn, Bobby Dawn would have been about 20 years younger than he is now, likely in his late 30s/early 40s.** Probably still handsome, still a "dashing" active adventurer. He was married to Pamela already (not just in an established relationship), since he had a child by then that was close to grown and I don't think the Church of Sol would be very happy about a child out of wedlock. He would have been a cleric of Sol and probably still preaching "the good word of Sol" but it likely wouldn't have been constant. You can't give sermons while fighting monsters. I'm sure he even saved Sandra Lynn's life a few times!

The thing about Bobby Dawn being a televangelist now, but not then, is that when he was young, he was probably just as good at persuasion, at finding vulnerable people and exploiting their weaknesses to get what he wanted, and yet he hadn't made a name for himself as a televangelist, so people wouldn't know to be wary of him trying to convert or manipulate them.

The scene between Bobby and Kristen, when Kristen is pretending that Cassandra died shows exactly what kind of terrible person Bobby really is. He is happy to find Kristen devastated, that she is having "a real dark night of the soul" and needs guidance. He refuses to help Kristen stay at Aguefort (something that's within his power), despite knowing how beneficial that would be to her well-being, because that goes against his own goals. He is smug and condescending and cruel. He is preying on Kristen's devastation and vulnerability (not knowing it's an act), to draw her back into the fold of the Church of Helio/Sol.

The person who did that to Kristen, is the exact same person who took advantage of Sandra Lynn when she was still basically a kid, just out of high school. He took advantage of her feelings for him, her inexperience and isolation. And then, when they were discovered, he threw her away and made her the villain so he could get away with it.

He ruined Sandra Lynn's life. Yes, she's happy now with her daughter, her partner, and the beautiful home they've made at Mordred Manor with Adaine, Kristen, Lydia, Ragh, Tracker, Zayn, Aelwyn, Boggy, and 15 cats. But Sandra Lynn ended up with self-esteem and relationship issues that she is still dealing with to this day. Those issues ruined her marriage, could have ruined her relationship with Jawbone, and likely played a hand in the difficulties between her and Fig in Freshman Year, as Sandra Lynn saw her daughter take her first steps into the world of adventuring.

Because Sandra Lynn first wanted to be an adventurer and Bobby Dawn took that away from her, just like he tried to do to Kristen.

Bobby Dawn has shaped his career as a high priest of Sol and as a televangelist by portraying himself as the epitome of righteousness. He is rotten to the core, a predator in a job where he is meant to help people, and I CANNOT WAIT to see the Bad Kids take him down.

*I don't really understand it. Pamela Dawn is likely just as bad as Bobby. She's the chief paladin of the church of Sol, her husband is a televangelist and a High Priest of Sol, and she would have been around the same age as Bobby and having an affair with a vulnerable young girl who she then kicked out of the group and slandered. It being Pamela would still be awful!

**Even with the assumption that both Bobby Dawn and his child had their kids at a young age, the math still has to take into account that Sandra Lynn's daughter is the same age as Bobby Dawn's GRANDSON.

[ozzgin]

I'm the anon who asked if your requests are open and i got busy assignments + presentations that i almost forgot about the request but now i remembered and it's based on my dream i saw that night..

How about a vampire who lost his relic (presumably a ring) and reader happens find it and tries it on, now the vampire is all panicking because guess what? That was a betrothal relic and it has binded the vampire's soul with the one of reader. They can't pull it out/take it of.. oh well, now they are stuck and obviously the vampire hates the idea of being stuck with a pesky human but hey they are kinda stupid..? How tf they tripped on thin air? Or how they are still alive even after being food poisoned 5 times a month? Vampire is now babysitter for his human *sighs * what has he gotten himself in..

(Please add yandere elements later on, my brain stoopid but i want a hot Victorian era vampire being obsessed with me ^^ muah!)

(I'm sorry this is so lengthy TT)

Yandere! Vampire x Reader

Featuring a ridiculously lucky Reader who constantly manages to escape a Vampire's assassination attempts. Did someone order a supernatural edition of enemies to lovers?

Content: gender neutral reader, obsessive behavior, mentions of stalking, romcom

[Monster masterlist] [Original works masterlist]

"Are you alright, (Y/N)?" your friends gasp in unison, eyes fixated on the fallen ceramic pot that scarcely missed you, now laying shattered at your feet. You laugh reassuringly and wave your hand in dismissal. "It's the fifth time it happens today. Maybe there's a storm coming?"

From within the shadows, menacing eyes glowing red follow your movements. "Damn it!" The mysterious man curses under his breath. He stares enviously at the bulky ring on your finger. The ring bearing his Family signet, where part of his very soul resides. It has stayed with him for centuries, and somehow, to his utmost shame, he lost it. By the time he rushed back to retrieve it, you were carelessly sliding it down your finger. He wanted to strangle the life out of you right then and there, but he felt it: the immediate surge of contractual power, dominating his will and holding him back from breaking your bones. "It's a little tacky, isn't it?" your friend remarked. You nodded in agreement and tried to remove it, but the metal band tightened around your skin, painfully constricting your digit. It was stuck. It was too late.

Now he has to rely on cheap trickeries like this one. Sure, he may not be able to directly plunge his fangs into your neck, but the bonding curse does not shield you from "accidents", you see. It would be a real shame if that flower pot was to land straight into your head, ending you instantly and thus breaking the connection with him. Except you simply refuse to die. A mystery, a paradox, one that enrages him to no end. It's almost as if the ring is bringing you fortune at the cost of his misery.

"Have you had any luck removing that ugly thing?" the person standing next to you mentions. The vampire lord grits his teeth at the blasphemous words. This is what's become of him: a deceitful buffoon, having to sit and listen to his inheritance being mocked relentlessly. He holds back the urge of shouting that thousands have bled to death in order to forge that magnificence. "Not at all", you respond idly. "I tried taking it to a jeweler, and she said she could try to cut it, but she ended up having a heart attack right in the middle of it. She didn't even look that old, maybe it runs in her family?"

Unbelievable. The thought of reclaiming his relic haunts every second of his day, to the point he's become your shadow. Stalking your every move, your every breath, observing his prey and waiting for an opportunity to strike. He can already picture that pathetic face of yours, twisting in pain, begging for-...huh. Well, look at that, you're reading one of his favorite books. Perhaps you do have a little taste, after all. It won't save you from your terrible fate, but he might skip the prolonged torture.

There's plenty of quotes out there about knowing your enemy in order to guarantee your victory, though one might wonder where the limit of such knowledge resides. Or what counts as useful to begin with. The vampire lord is presently wondering about this very aspect, as he mouths your coffee order from a distance. Less sugar, huh? You did mention losing your sweet tooth. He shakes his head indignantly. Absolutely not! The throb of his heart is fueled by raw hatred and nothing else. One of days he will savour your demise.

Your ridiculous luck might just end today. You've taken a shortcut on your way back home, and didn't expect a shady, burly man to block your exit. A perverted grin stains his face as he approaches you, twiddling with his pocket knife. "Alone at this hour?" You frown and try to find a way out, but the man suddenly begins to heave and convulse before your eyes, grasping at his chest as the skin shrivels and dries. He collapses at your feet, body wilted as if it's been emptied of its vitality. The Vampire Lord clicks his tongue.

To think he'd rush to rescue his sworn enemy, a pitiful mortal like you. He didn't even get the chance to consider the aftermath. You stare at the stranger, confused but observant. Pale skin, crimson eyes, unnaturally sharp canines...and the fact he just drained a living being into a bloodless corpse: everything hints to one possibility. "Are you by any chance a vampire?" you find yourself mumbling. "You must've graduated from Harvard with those deduction skills", he responds sarcastically.

Everything else unfolds in a haze. Wasn't he planning to kill you and retrieve his ring? When the hell did he offer to walk you home to avoid more creeps? Why is he twirling his hair sheepishly whenever you praise his demonic powers? Oh, but it gets worse: why did he suddenly feel the urge to kiss you before returning to his cursed lair? Why did he accept your invitation to spend the night at your place instead? One moment ago, he was doing his best to curse you off this Earth. Now he's tugging stray strands of hair away from your blushing, whining face, asking you if it hurts. Damned human.

"How did you know I like this? Have you been stalking me?" you joke, nudging your undead boyfriend and setting the gift aside. "More or less", he confesses with a yawn. He recalls all that time spent dutifully spying on your oblivious self. "You know, a human like you shouldn't be able to dodge death like that." He turns to you and scans your features. Then, abruptly embarrassed, he ruffles your hair to block you from noticing his blush. "I suppose my failure was the better outcome. It's not too bad, having you around."

[mammonsrockstargf]

HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS

contents: gn!reader, sfw, fluff, petnames (sweetheart, treasure)

Mammon watches you from the bar in the stuffy nightclub you’ve found yourselves in. He’s surprised you agreed to go. When Asmodeus initially proposed the idea (begged, with a pout on his lips and a pink glint in his eyes. “Please, sweetheart, it won’t be fun without you! Please, please, please–“) Mammon thought for sure that you were going to say no. He was already preparing to swoop in, say something about a private movie night, and steal you away to his room.

Instead, you’re here. The outfit Asmo picked out for you compliments your body perfectly. You look beautiful, but more so you look comfortable as well. Body effortlessly swaying to the music, a relaxed smile on your lips as Asmo puts his hands on your hips and pulls you close.

It’s all friendly. At least that’s what you think. But Mammon sees the glint in his brother’s eye, the subtle smile on his lips.

Of course, Mammon had to come too. How could he leave you here? He’s already spotted several demons looking at you for a little too long. He isn’t sure if they’re into you, or if they want to eat you. It’s probably both. But none of it matters. Mammon has already glared holes into their faces. None of them would dare touch you.

Besides that, you’re dancing with the Avatar of Lust. The demon might seem all sugar and body lotion, but no one would dare steal Asmo’s prey from him.

Yes, the real enemy here is Asmodeus. Sweet, lovely Asmo who definitely looks like he wants to devour you whole. Mammon loves his brother more than anything, but the yellow monster in the pit of his stomach is becoming increasingly harder to ignore.

Asmo leans down, whispering something in your ear. You gasp slightly, mouth falling agape, clearing feeling flustered.

Yeah, that’s enough.

Mammon walks away from the bar, making a beeline for you. Within seconds, he’s in front of you, pushing Asmo out of the way. The younger demon pouts, but nevertheless he gives your hand a kiss before slipping away to some other corner of the club. Presumably to find a succubus or incubi to spend the night with. (Or maybe both?)

You’re all smiles as you wrap your arms around Mammon’s neck, pulling him into you. Big hands settle on your hips as you nuzzle your nose into his neck, breathing in his cologne. “Hi, Mams,” you mutter.

It’s quiet, barely audible over the loud music blasting in the speakers, but Mammon hears it. He always hears you. Lips press against his skin, and Mammon feels a shudder run down his spine, his ears growing red.

“Hey, treasure,” he says, fondness laced into every word. “You havin’ fun?”

You hum, pulling him closer. It should be awkward, the way you’re embracing in the middle of the dance floor. Sweaty bodies everywhere, several pairs of demons shamelessly making out, fangs and forked tongues clashing against each other, but Mammon doesn’t take note of any of it, except from your warm body pressed against his. At this moment, he wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.

If home is where the heart is, then Mammon’s home is right here in this nightclub, with sticky floors and sweat in the air all included.

Mammon kisses the crown of your head, breathing in your smell. Shampoo, human, and so very you. It’s intoxicating.

“Are ya ready to go home?” he asks, and you nod.

“Yes, please,” you reply, voice groggy with sleep as you detach yourself from his neck and smile up at him.

“Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”

Mammon thinks his heart almost stops. He swears you’re going to be the death of him one day.

“Yeah, s– sure. Just don’t go hoggin’ all the blankets, okay!”

[lustlovehart]

Reversed

Pairings: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Jamil, Vil, Idia, Malleus, Rollo x Reader

Reverse Monster!Twst where instead of you being the hunter who hunts down those vermin, it’s them hunting you down, the most notorious beast famed for taking down whole citities with just a look (though, this is just rumors as no evidence with solid proof has proven this a fact).

They’re so sure they can do it, maybe with a great effort, but they have no doubt they’ll at least give you a challenge.

But then, they finally meet you and their former view completely shifts.

Riddle, is at an impasse. He’s conflicted with himself, on one hand he’s appraised as the sternest Monster Hunter there is, even following rules that make his job harder than need be. But, when he looks at you, his want for law following skews itself. Even as he brings his blade down to behead you, a split second hesitation gives way for you to escape his clutches.

When he finally clears his mind, he strives to hunt you down, you’ll just repay all the grievances you caused through punishment—! Who’s he kidding, he can’t lie…

He’s doing this not because the rules say so, but because he wants to. Whether through blood or air, he will see you again.

Leona… Thinks it’s inconvenient. He sets out on the mission with the “just another annoyance” mindset, ready to swiftly claw you down a step so he can go back to napping around the city. When the time comes, he’s a bit annoyed he can’t do it. He’s not sure what it is, maybe the way you look at him when you’re on the ground, whether pitiful or snarling. This was meant to be a simple job, kill and then swiftly take his leave, now he’s considering whether he should throw you over his shoulder or tie you up and drag you home.

The decision is finally made when you’re gone from his hold. He groans at himself for something so amateur, but realizes, he hasn’t taken a mission seriously for a while. Maybe it’s finally time for him to catch a worthy meal.

Crowley won’t know though, this prey, is for him and him only.

Azul views it as a simple means to gain popularity. Killing the most wanted beast available would surely boost him up the chart, he could even replace Crowley as NRF’s head. The moment he can finally do what he has been waiting years to do… he'd very much rather bunch you up in his arms and start an entirely different business branch.

When you’re down, the way you sneer at him and tell about his pathetically cowardice plan somehow reminds him of himself. He’s reminded of how weak he started before growing in power.

When you back away from his reach, only further growling at the human before you, he bunches your clawed hands in his placing a chaste kiss on your thick skin. He already knew what would happen as the moment he looked back up, the beast he gave such a vulnerable act to, was gone.

He tuts at himself, but quickly re-plans, he’ll just have to find a more efficient way of holding you down.

Kalim, is happy! He’s a soft hunter, he essentially hunts them down by giving them a stern talking about the goodness of the world, even giving them a good start in life! They get away believing they’ve achieved freedom only to be murdered in cold blood by Jamil, who was stalling in the formers shadow.

When they finally meet you, this dynamic changes. Kalims practically overcome by joy at the sight of you, caging your hand in his as he excitedly rants to you about the future you’ll have with him! … With him? It seems… Kalim doesn’t believe in free beginnings in your case, when he accidentally releases you back into the world, he’s determined, for the first time, to truly hunt down a monster and trap them.

Little does he know, the real snake, is ready to sink his fangs into you, not willing to share a single piece of his reward

Vil unfortunately believes, you’re the prettiest thing he's ever laid eyes on. Like everyone else, he went into the assignment with the belief he’ll be taking down an insidious ugly monster. It’s dark when he finally brings his weapon down on you, only narrowly missing when the light perfectly hits your face and accentuates your features to him.

Why are you beautiful?

He stops dead in his tracks, only further freezing up when you slowly resume your full height, you face inching closer to his as your eyes examine him, the moment he blinks is when you’re gone. Perhaps he should’ve let his eyes run dry if it meant you stayed here longer.

When he lays in bed, it feels like every time he closes his eyes you’re in the shadows, watching him. He doesn’t feel fear at this thought, if anything, he jumps up ready to take you away.

Ever since, he can’t seem to stop thinking about the beast so fair, he must know… why it is he finds you so beautiful.

Perhaps, he’ll just need to study such a beauty up close and personal.

Idia wants to hole himself away, but at the same time needs to see every part of you. He’s practically hidden behind the sword he has pointed at you, the iron trembling as you watch him emerge from his sleeve. He’s been obsessed with this moment for so long, to finally become the hero of the world after slaying the beast that torments innocent citizens!

But… is he sure he even wants to do that anymore..? He can feel the plotline change when he considers drifting apart from the cliche.

What if he like… falls in love with the evil monster instead..? Why’s he lying that’s exactly what’s happening…! After fixating on such a key moment, it’s like all his attention was on you as a living being, rather than the mission anymore…!

He has numerous pins and photos of you attached to his wall, each displaying your victims, towns you’ve raided, and even just photos of you standing there.

This might be the only thing he won’t shy away from in fear. Like the rest of them, Idia is just as determined to achieve the goal of catching you, maybe even more so with how much he needs to prove to people.

Malleus, finds you a curiosity. To think, despite his nature, you’ve caught the attention of one of the most renowned hunters. Even when his bare hands pin you to the ground below him, his body being used as a weight to trap you between him and the grass, he can’t help but wish to lean even closer.

He essentially, feels the urge to consume every piece of knowledge there is to know about you, he wants to know, every piece of data books have failed to recollect on you.

He has never felt such a strong desire like this, he’s smart in all fields, even powerful enough to do jobs weaponless, yet you’re the only thing he seems to consistently want to swallow.

When your form fades away, his hands grip onto the space you once occupied, desperately trying to cling to the vespers of you. He must better himself, on his need for you.

Rollo thinks you’re horrifically heinous. How… How dare you impede his mind with your impure presence. Out of everyone, even Riddle, his strive to put a stake through your heart is heavier than ever, why must such prudences exist in this land? If they hadn’t, living would be peacful.

Which is the exist opposite of his life right now. At every turn of a city corner has gone to such a delusion he imagines random people in the street to be you. His current turmoil is between existential longing and pure hatred.

You... You of the most immoral species possible, why is it you his heart has decided to beat faster and faster with every passing moment? You must’ve cursed him, yes that’s it... He must purify the filth you’ve instilled in him.

By taking you as the cure.

A/n: Rollo Flamme, from doting househusband coworker who toes the line of regular best friend and boyfriend, to loathing mortal enemy who hunts you down to pay for the fact you’re in his mind 24/7 because he simply can’t accept that he’s fallen deep in love with the pretty monster in the shadows.

May I offer up, Monster Hunter meeting with all of the factions telling their reports of their mission, collectively saying their lies in unison, that they killed you. Now they’re all giving each other the stink eye cuz “no tf you didn’t???”, meanwhile you’re in their weapons closet trying desperately to not get caught with the lowrank hunter you were feeding on. You could easily take five of them down, but twenty three highly trained hunters? You’d practically be dead—

Your hopes go unanswered as shadows loom of you with the most horrifying expressions on their face. (Little do you know it’s not because of you but because they’re a little jealous some random got to have you bite them).

Thank you for my presentation that had randomly struck me doing a road trip, on the bright side, Heartslaybul is half way finished??? Kinda??

[gremlingottoosilly]

saw ur monster 141 with pup reader (!!!!) and what about kitty reader who's just the softest, sleepiest, pliant little thing, who's breed is scottish fold so her little ears are flattened on her head - and she's so small, too :(

Cat reader!! yes!! Scottish fold monster breeds have a lot more problems than their cat versions have - weak spine and problems with walking are some of them, unfortunately. You are a lot sleepier than other hybrids, practically helpless in hunting and you don't even know how to play with your prey properly - as a show breed of a domestic cat, you can only lay down in your nest and purr for the amusement of other monsters. It doesn't free you from your breeding duties, however. Soap is, by far, the worst with you. Being a werewolf, he is your natural enemy - and he might mean well when he is dragging you out of your nest so you could run and play together, but you're too lazy and get tired too fast to actually enjoy playing with him...and of course, you simply hate hate hate his enthusiasm about everything!! Seriously, you need some time to recharge, how is this man even for real? He would bite you all the time, too, and you scratch him constantly, but it only makes him want you more( he will laugh and push his face to kiss and lick you all over, and it's so gross, you just can't stop cringing( Gaz is...nice. And you hate the he is nice because he makes it hard for you to hate him. Like many cats, you don't really enjoy bathing yourself. You're doing just fine with occasional showers or licking yourself in your cat form, why would you need to take a bath every night or two?? Gaz is the only one who is capable of dragging you - Ghost could, too, but he doesn't want to waste time, so you're stuck with smiling Kyle and his enthusiasm of spreading various shower gels on your body, making you all soapy and smell like flowers( he is getting his fair share of scratches too, but if he manages to clean and play with your pussy properly, you might allow him to proceed with washing you... Ghost is a cat person, by all his heart. It's weird, to watch this big, shadowy man loom over you like you're his precious pet, but he just won't stop staring at you. It's weird and somewhat creepy, but you love receiving surprising head scratches or belly rubs. What you don't like, is when you want to capture him in belly trap with your claws, but he just disappears in a puff of shadow and escapes(( it's not fair!! Ghost allows you to scratch him, however, when he is feeling like it - after a really good sex, when you both are just laying in your ruined nest, he would push your mouth on his bicep and allows you to bite him and cover him in your marks - it will dissapear, of course, but you just look so cute, like a helpless angry kitten... Against all odds, Price is your favorite sleeping buddy. Why? Because of his body temperature, of course! Gaz is warm too, but he doesn't have this bear-type tummy on his chiseled abs for you to curl up, so you opt to sleep on Captain's chest or lap. Price always laughs when you find him in his office when you push yourself on his lap and lay your head against his warm, soft chest. He won't let you go during the night, letting you bask in his heat - you just look so precious all sleepy like this, and you meowl perfectly when he pushes his cock in your pussy, making you even warmer. You would purr in your sleep and he thinks it's just the most precious sound in the world.

[ihavethedreamies]

Matter of Pride | Hongjoong

Kim Hongjoong - ATEEZ

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~5.9k

Pairing: Lion-Hybrid!Hongjoong x Gazelle-Hybrid!AFAB!Reader

Genre: Hybrid AU!, Historical?/Ancient?, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Strangers-to-Friends-to-Lovers

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, very tiny mention of noncon, Pet Names (Doll, Sweetheart, Sweet, Love, etc.), Swearing, Kissing, Biting & Scratching & Marking, Bonding/Mating, Heat/Rut, Pheromones, Oral (F! Receiving), Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…), Monster(?)!Hongjoong (not really, he's a lion hybrid)

Author's Note: Okay, here we go lol. This is NOT Omegaverse, but they do both go into rut/heat. They have animals ears and tails and he's got a spiny lion cock. Hongjoong is not necessarily bigger than reality, the reader is just small. I did also imagine this more to be set in the steppe of Central Asia/Southern Siberia rather than Africa.

I am planning on doing the other members, might just take some time since we are in the process of moving. I wanted to get this up sooner as well, but I live in Tornado Country™.

-> Series Hub <-

🐕 Yeosang's 🐕

🐻 Jongho's 🐻

🐯 San's 🐯

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

Ever since you were a calf, the elders of your herd told you to stay away from predators. You weren't for sure why thought, since all they told you was that they were dangerous. You found that quite odd considering you were not full animals, and as far as you knew, predator hybrids did not literally eat prey hybrids. There was probably some ancient lore-based superstition or something, and it wasn't till you were older did you really think about the real facts. Despite logically knowing that they weren’t going to eat you alive, you still were a bit scared about meeting a predator.

One day you were traversing the rocky steppe of your homeland, right at the foothills of the mountains. Crouching down, you ran your fingers through the grass, feeling for the tell-tale mound of the root you were looking for. The sun was beginning to set, the cool of late-spring settling in the air.

"No." you grumbled, not feeling anything. Standing back up, your attention was quickly drawn to a new sound. Your furry ear, sticking out from the side of your head, flicked at the noise. The wind shifted and your sensitive smell picked up something unfamiliar, but it triggered a deeper, primal part of you. Predators. Logic tried to fight back against instinct, the sound was voices, not the growls of an actual animal. Still, your heart raced, the sound of blood pumping thudded in your ears. Your furry tail swished back and forth nervously, and despite your apprehensions, you moved toward the voices. Finding a path that led a bit further into the foothills, you saw fresh boot marks. Gently, like doing so would trigger something, you placed your own foot in the print, the size difference was striking. You were not a child, you were actually quite a bit bigger than the other women of your herd, but… A boisterous laugh hit your ears, your head turning toward it on its own, instinctually. Swallowing hard, you followed the tracks and when you came around a large boulder, you peered around it. There was a small clearing created by tall, jutting rocks, and a camp had been set up there. Three figures sat around a firepit, great furry pelts wrapped around their shoulders and necks. Lions. There was a fourth figure, leaning against one of the rocks, making him closest to you. Peering closer, he was beautiful. Sharp eyes and jawline, his hair wasn't as long nor as shaggy as the others. His pelt was much nicer as well, and he was the only one with a tunic shirt on underneath. A large axe-like knife was attached to his belt and he had a deep red cloth tied around his bicep. You felt the end of your tail brushing over the rock as it swayed, your nose twitching as the wind carried their scent. You had a hard time pinpointing the exact fragrance, but the one closest to you was the most potent. And the most pleasant. The three around the fire smelled like the smoke wafting around them, and like sweat and dirt. The other one though, he smelled like spiced tea and fragrant tree bark. The wind shifted again, coming up from behind you, carrying your scent right into the clearing. You barely had time to realize what had happened, trying to back away and completely out of sight, but he noticed. As you ducked to hide, his deep golden-brown eyes met your own. The intense look shot fear through your very DNA and you turned to bolt, using your species' long and fast legs to sprint. You didn't make it very far though, and the back of your tunic was seized and you bleated as you were hauled back. Turning to look at your captor as best as you could, it was the handsome one. He smelled even better so close and looked even better. Your face was hot, for many different reasons, and you wondered if he could smell your fear. Was that an actual thing?

"What's wrong Hongjoong?" One of the other lions called and he was able to hide you with his own body. He wasn't as big as the others, but still a good seven or eight inches taller than you.

"Smelled a doe, I'm going to see if I can get her." He shouted back and they went back to their raucous conversation. The lion holding you wrapped his arm around your middle rather than gripping your tunic and easily carried you around the boulder fully and down the slope. You hung there, not sure what else you could do, and he only let you go when he got to the end of the path that led you in.

"S-sorry!" You spun around to face him, not trusting him at your back, "I wasn't eavesdropping!"

"I'm not worried about that, doll. Be glad the smoke covered your scent for the others."

"W-why? Would they…" You swallowed hard, your quivering obvious to him. So were your twitching ears, and he could see your tunic shifting from your wagging tail.

"Would they eat me?" Your question threw him off, to the point that he flinched back.

"What?" He huffed, "No, of course not. Is that what you were told?" You shrugged, feeling embarrassed now.

"That's not what I'm worried they would do to a cute thing like you." Your arm reached around your back, twisting so you could wrap your fingers around the end of your braid, tugging on it. You couldn't meet his gaze, especially because you understood his implication. Also, you weren't sure how you felt about him calling you cute.

"What are you doing around here? What herd are you with?"

"I was gathering herbs…I'm with the gazelle herd southwest of here." You motioned vaguely behind you.

"What were you looking for?"

"Valerian root. It's too early for the plant to be flowering so it's hard to find." He didn't reply for a bit, glancing behind him.

"There's a big tree, east of your village?"

"Y-yes?" You were a little concerned he knew the area so well, but at the same time if they knew where your herd was, and had left it be, it was probably okay.

"What else have you been looking for?" His change of subject caught you off guard, but you answered.

"Meet me at that tree tomorrow evening, and I'll have some for you. Don't come back this way, those others aren't safe."

"You are, though?" Your question didn't sound as bold as you wanted it to. He chuckled a bit, then exhaled hard through his nose.

"Short answer, yes. I don't want to be working with them, but I don't have a choice right now."

"What do you want in return?" You asked, why would he help you just to be nice. It would be a lot of work to gather the herbs you were looking for.

"We'll see how hard it is, then I'll tell you. Deal?" He held his hand out and you eyed it. Finally, taking it, the strength behind the grip jolted you.

"I'm Hongjoong. Do you have a name I can call you?" He smirked softly and you pulled away from the handshake like he had burned you suddenly.

"(Y/N). About this time?"

"Sure, doll. Now go home, and don't come back here." Hongjoong stepped back and nodded for you to do so. Turning back to look at him a few times as you went, you trotted back home, your bag lighter than you had planned on it being.

All through the next day, your eyes kept flitting to the sun behind the clouds, waiting for it to reach the right point in the sky. You were glad you were the head healer, if you had not come back with a good haul before your mentor retired, she would've swatted your hands. In the beginning, it was weird to return to an empty tent, but after nearly six months, you were used to it. It wasn't like she was dead; it was just weird she wasn't there anymore. Your hands moved on muscle memory as you worked through the day, thoughts spiraling, always returning to the image of the lion you met the day prior. It didn't help that he was so attractive, the encounter would have been significantly less captivating without that factor. It was clear he didn't like his comrades, even past that, his appearance was very different from theirs. He had been standing far away from them as well and had even lied when he found you.

The closer toward the horizon the sun grew, the more distracted you were, and you were so antsy that for the last hour before the designated time, you stood at the edge of the village. Some of your herd had questioned your odd behavior through the day, and you brushed it off, telling them you were thinking hard about where to find more herbs. That time of year was difficult with so many different plants sprouting up, and most people accepted your reasoning. Only your mother wasn't convinced, but she also knew not to press too hard, or you would lose your patience. You didn't have too much of that.

From where you were standing, you could kind of see where the tree was, well, the rock that was hiding it. It was behind the big rock. Glancing up at the darkening sky, you could finally see the twinkling of the northernmost star, and you started to trek out. After you descended the slope, and gotten over the hill after it, you knew you were out of sight, and broke into a quicker pace. For some reason, you were excited. Was it the thrill of doing something that others would frown upon? Was it that you got to bask in the presence of the extremely attractive lion once more?

You reached the boulder faster than normal, it seemed your body was just as eager, and had decided to move faster than your brain realized. Swallowing hard, your hand brushed over the smooth stone surface as you moved around it, peaking around. Feeling a small sense of déjà vu, when you could see around the rock, you saw him under the tree.

"There's no need to hide, doll." His voice was warm and you giggled a little in embarrassment, fully coming around. Right when you got close enough, he took a bundle off his shoulder, leaves poking out from the leather wrap. Taking it gently, you crouched down so you could untie it and look. You gasped seeing everything that was there. Not only did he find everything you needed, but there was also a lot there.

"H-How did you get so much?" You looked up at him from your squat and he shrugged. No verbal response, but you were too grateful to question.

"H-here." You reached into your own bag, your string of coins jingling as you pulled it out.

"No, (Y/N). You don't need to pay me."

"But!" When you moved to give him the coins, he wrapped his fingers over yours so they wrapped around the metal pieces.

"What do you want as payment then?"

"Don't worry about it."

"I have, um. I have this mulled wine my grandfather made…" You went back to your bag, going to unite the cord of the wineskin.

"No."

"Um, okay, I have…" You shuffled stuff around in your bag, looking for the flute you still didn't really know how to play.

"(Y/N). You don't have to give me anything, it’s fine." He was closer then, trying to get you to stop your frantic search. His fingers went to your chin, forcing your head to tip back so you could meet his gaze.

"A-are you sure?"

"Yes." He dropped his hand and stepped back once more, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

"N-nothing?" You felt bad, it would have taken hours to gather that much.

"If you really want, you can sit and talk to me for a bit?" He suggested and the request flabbergasted you.

"Really?" Hongjoong hummed with a nod, turning so he could move to the tree, sitting at the base in a divot in the large roots. Sitting down next to him, you truly felt small then, scratching at a root with your blunt fingernail. Your eyes went to his own hands, sharp claws sat at the end of each finger. You also had noticed when he smiled, his canine teeth were bigger and sharper. His golden-blonde hair, rounded ears, and tufted tail all screamed that he was a lion, even if his demeanor didn't. He wasn't scary, but he was majestic and beautiful.

"Have you ever met a lion before me?" He rested against the tree trunk and you shook your head.

"Have you ever met a predator?"

"Not really. Just seen them from afar." You picked at a dried bit of some poultice you had made that was stuck on your tunic skirt.

"You weren't as afraid as I thought you would be, then."

"If it had been one of the others, maybe."

"Why was I different?" Hongjoong's gaze on you made your face hot, you couldn't return the look.

"You could have given me away to the others, and you didn't." Yep, that was it. Nothing more to it.

"That's it?" He sounded a bit disappointed.

"Why didn't you?"

"I told you; I don't care for them."

"Then why are you travelling with them?"

"It's hard to be a solo male out here. It's easier to work with a group before I try and get my own pride."

"Oh. So, like, a bunch of wives?"

"More like two or three. Not like full lions, but..." He didn't sound super eager for that.

"Are all lion hybrids like that?"

"More or less. Never appealed to me much, to be honest."

"Really?" This piqued your interest, and you didn't dwell too much on why.

"It's rare for lions to have one spouse, out in the wilds anyway. I've debated leaving for the capital, but…"

"Why not?"

"I don't mind living off the land, but I don't know where else to go to find a wife. Most lionesses also want to be in a pride, like some ancient call."

"Huh."

"Are gazelle monogamous?"

"Hybrids are. Have a shit ton of kids though." Your response made him laugh; the sound rumbled through you.

"Can you roar like a full lion?" You were too curious. You needed to know.

"Uh, no. Can you actually bleat like a full gazelle?"

"Not really…" Now you felt stupid, ears flicking nervously. Your tail thumped a bit on the ground, your eyes meandering down to look at his. It was much longer than yours, like his full animal brethren.

"What about you?"

"Me?"

"Do you want to get married and have a shit ton of kids?" You hummed in thought. No. It was more because you didn't want to be pressed into a mold. Most herbalists never marry, let alone have offspring, that was part of the reason you chose the trade.

"No."

"You even want kids?"

"Don't know. One would be nice, but that's not how it works…" You stared in the distance toward your village.

"How many siblings do you have?"

"I'm the oldest of eleven."

"Fuck." He huffed and his reaction made you burst into a guffaw.

"Yes."

"Is your mother…okay?" This made you laugh harder.

"Uh, I can't imagine five singletons plus three sets of twins would make anyone okay."

"Not your ideal future?"

"Oh, fuck, no." Hongjoong smiled at your obvious newly relaxed state. It was then you noticed the sun had set completely, little white stars twinkling in the dark purple abyss.

"I need to get back!" You shot up, retying the bundle he had given you.

"Wait!" He stopped you with a hand on your wrist. Turning to look back at him, he licked his lips, letting you go.

"Can you meet me back here in two days. Same time?" Your eyes widened a bit at the request, but you felt a smile tug at your lips.

"Yeah, I can."

You did go back when he asked.

"You came!" Hongjoong seemed genuinely surprised, standing up straight from where he had been leaning against the tree.

"Of course?" You were genuinely surprised at his reaction, "why wouldn't I?"

"I was a bit worried you only came last time for the herbs…" He wouldn't look straight at you, and you noticed he had something in his hand. It was obviously plants.

"Is that why you brought that?" You pointed to them, and he brought them around from behind his back.

"Y-yeah."

"Hongjoong. You're the first guy that still gave me the time of day after saying I didn't want to have twelve children." You motioned behind you toward your village, "honestly I've been really impatient, waiting for…now." Your face warmed and you swiped your leg back and forth, drawing an arch in the dirt with your toe.

"You're the first girl who didn't look at me weird when I said I only wanted one wife…" He huffed, the confident smirk coming back to his face.

"Is it weird, that we're so different?" You voiced the obvious concern between both of you.

"Maybe. But it doesn't feel like it."

For nearly two months you met at the tree, every two days. One night, under a full moon, when you arrived at the tree, he met you right as you arrived, immediately sweeping you into his arms. A bit shocked, you returned the hug, warmth flooding your whole body. You spoke like normal, sitting together, shoulder to shoulder. That time though, there was something in the air. You couldn't place your finger on it, and when you went to leave for the night, he hugged you once more. When he pulled back, his hand went to cup your cheek.

"I…I don't want to let you go." He barely pulled away from the hug but did release you. His head was bowed to be closer to yours, forehead brushing yours.

"Hongjoong?" You weren't for sure what he meant, considering he literally let you go.

"Run away with me. Come to me. Stay with me." He tilted his head, nose brushing yours, his breath mingled with yours. Tears pricked your eyes, a rush of emotions knocking your breath away as he stole it. His lips were hot on yours and a tear escaped your eye. When he pulled back, his eyes met yours, and he grimaced at your tears.

"Tomorrow. I'll come to you. Here?" You asked, ready and willing. You did want to at least say goodbye to your family, gather your things.

"No. There's a cave near where we first met-"

"Behind the vines?"

"Yes."

"I'll be there."

Your mother didn’t ask too many questions. She knew there had been something on your mind, and she knew and saw that you weren't happy there. You never would be, especially not after meeting Hongjoong. You didn't have the heart to tell your father, so you said goodbye to him like it was any other time you went to gather herbs. It wasn't like you would never see them again, but you weren't sure when you would go back, not sure where you would end up. With one last glance behind you, you left your village, your bag more full than usual, but no one noticed. Standing at the entrance of the cave, you swallowed hard, parting the hanging vines and stepping in. He was there. Of course he was, it seemed he had been staying there. A very convenient hole lay in the ceiling, casting the sunlight in. The whole cave smelled of him, and once he saw you, he moved forward. You gasped, his hands cupping your jaw, lips sealing over yours. That kiss wasn’t anything like the time before. Hongjoong pulled back slightly, just so you could breathe and you whimpered at the loss. Your tail rapidly flitted back and forth behind you, ears twitching just as fast. Hongjoong's spiced aroma had grown stronger, a slight rumbling building in his chest. His hands were still holding your jaw, the claw on his thumb just barely ghosting over your skin. Stepping even closer, your hands fell on his chest, and you marveled at the hard muscle underneath the pelt around his shoulders. The rumble grew stronger under your touch, and you could already feel your core clench around nothing. Swallowing hard, you breathed in his scent, over and over, like it was a drug.

"Fuck, (Y/N)."  He practically growled, one hand moving to rest on your waist. His face buried into the crook of your neck; nose pressed to your jugular. Your blood spiked and you felt your whole body shudder. You were unsure if it was arousal, or a sense of danger, having the large fangs of a predator near your weakest spot.

"You smell so good." Hongjoong groaned, hauling you closer, leaving barely a space between you.

"Like what?" You wanted to add, 'like a meal or a mate?', but didn't want to ruin the moment.

"Like when the apricots blossom." His other hand on your jaw moved instead to the back of your head, the one on your waist to the small of your back. You gasped at the pressure of his body, feeling him growing hard against your stomach. His face left your neck, and he kissed you again. You wondered if that was what the elders implied, being eaten alive. His tongue had easily entered your mouth, swiping over yours, his large canines clacking against your much blunter ones. You had expected his tongue to be rough, but he didn't know yours would be as well, though not nearly as coarse as your full animal kin. It seemed though, that he was literally drooling, the extra saliva made his tongue glide around yours. You whimpered again, the muffled noise was nearly a bleat, and the rumble of his chest nearly a roar. Hongjoong's lips left yours, a strand of spit connecting your mouths, another trail leaving the corner of his mouth. He licked away the extra, breaking the trail, his pupils had narrowed to narrow slits. Your own pupils were blown wide, the black nearly eclipsing the color of your iris. Part of you felt the need to run, flee, that you were being hunted. Somehow though, that thought turned you on all the more.

"Are you sure, (Y/N)?"

"Huh?"

"Once I have you, I won't let you go." His voice rumbled through you, straight to your cunt, and your scent of arousal built to the point you could smell it yourself. The spiced bark of his own aroma filled your nostrils, making your thoughts hazy.

"You already have me." You replied, voice very soft, to keep it from shaking. Your brain didn't register his next move till it was already done, your back pinned to the rock of the cave, his hand still on the back of your head to make sure it didn't smash against the stone.

"Tell if it hurts too bad." His voice was in your ear, nose pushing against the collar of your tunic. Your hands around his neck moved to his upper back, gripping hard into the pelt as his teeth sank into your shoulder. Your eyes rolled back, the stinging pain just aroused you further, and his hips rutted forward once, pressing his even harder cock against your tummy. As his fangs left your skin, he licked over the spot and you flinched at the sting. Just then, his scent spiked, the aroma becoming sweeter, mingling with yours. You knew predators bonded through mating bites, but you had no idea what it would do to your body. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, blood rushed in your ears and a drop of slick started to flow down your inner thigh.

"Gotta warn you, sweetheart." He huffed, a cocky smirk gracing his features, tongue licking over the drop of blood still on his lip. He palmed his hard-on through his tunic pants, "might look a little different than you're expecting."

"Huh?" You weren't fully registering what he was getting at. Hongjoong's fingers wrapped around yours, bringing your hand to his covered cock, letting you palm over him yourself. You whimpered, you had dealt with plenty of naked males being a healer, and none compared. The thing that you noticed really, what he was talking about, were the little spines at the base of his cock and below the head. Your eyes widened, normally that would concern you some, but your body was ready and waiting. Eager even, begging.

"They don't hurt like a full lion, but I wanted you to know."

"I don't care, I just want you to split me open on it." Your bold declaration made him chuckle, his tongue licking against the tip of your ear. It flicked under the touch and the hand at your head brought your lips back to his. He swallowed your mewls, the hand he had on your back moved lower, gripping the base of your tail. When he tugged, a bleat escaped your throat, and his hard thigh nestled between your quivering ones. He immediately felt the heat of your cunt through the thin leather of his tunic pants, your slick quickly dripping over the material.

"You're soaked, love." He pressed harder, your hips jumping, the slight friction intensified by whatever hex he seemed to have you under.

"Sorry, sweet. You're sending me into a rut." His chest was rumbling again, deeper than before, "It'll be hard to hold back." Is that what was happening to you? Was he putting you into heat? Yours were normally extremely weak since you were unmated, and was it much worse because he was a predator? Did your body need to compensate for his own body’s greater power? The hand on your tail moved to cup your butt, then to your thigh, prompting you to pronk up and into his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist, the bulge of his cock pressing over your bare cunt and you whined, breath hitching. You felt so small then, he easily held you up against the cave wall, broad enough that most wouldn’t even know you were there but your legs around his middle. Hongjoong kissed over your neck, down to your collar bone, rough tongue searing over your skin. Your hands scrambled, gripping and pulling at the pelt around his neck, trying to get it off. He helped you, reaching under to undo a small button and you pulled it up over his head, letting it flop to the ground. His toned arms were fully on display then, the red cloth around his arm somehow made the sight all the better. He never told you what it meant, and you just assumed it was an accessory. Before you could start trying to wrestle his tunic top off, he held you to him, carrying you to a pile of pelts it seemed he used as a bed. Softly, he laid you down on it, but his following movements were anything but. He ripped his shirt off and you didn't get time to ogle his bare torso because he proceeded to literally tear yours off. You had only been in a linen tunic dress, but still the ease with which he turned it to shreds was incredible arousing. His palms were rough against your soft skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Hongjoo-!" Your breath was kicked from your lungs, vision spattering with dots of light when his tongue buried into your cunt. You hadn't even realized he was down there, hands pressing to your thighs to hold your legs open. Even the slight brush of his lips over your clit as his tongue licked over your walls was intense. A strong wave of pleasure was quickly cresting, your womb pulsing hard, walls clenching.

"Fuck~!" Little bleats and whimpers left you, your tail whacking against the pelts beneath you, dull nails raking through his hair. While you had never had an orgasm, you knew that's what it was. With how quick he brought you up to and over the edge, you knew you were in for a long night. Hongjoong growled, his purr rumbling through his tongue into you, drinking your essence as it squirted from your cunt. Smirking, he pulled back, thumb gathering a drop from his chin so he could lick it off.

"You think your cute little cunt can take my cock?" His knuckles brushed through your folds, careful of his claws.

"Please, need it~" Your foot came up, pressing over his hard-on. He grunted, wrapping his hand around your ankle, forcing it off so he could take his pants off. You watched, hazy eyes trying to focus as the leather hit the cave floor. Your eyes subsequently widened, brain fogging further. Little spines circled his cock, thick and long. Hongjoong kneeled between your legs, spreading them and hooking one of your knees over his elbow to keep you open for him. He chuckled at the twitch your whole body seized from when the hot head met your dripping folds.

"It might sting, love." He warned once more, the thumb of his hand on your waist rubbing small circles over your hip. You nodded, trying to relax but also steel yourself. Yes, it stung, it burned, but it was amazing. Each little bit he sank his fat cock into you, the little spines rubbed and pulled at your walls. Your slick allowed an easy glide, but his own head was swimming from the tight vice of your cunt, eagerly sucking him in. You shuddered with each breath, heat searing through you from your core out, and he was barely half-way in when you felt another orgasm cresting. You thought the pain would diminish the pleasure, but it was the opposite, the burn heated you even further. Hongjoong laid kisses over your shoulder around his mark, letting you adjust to the stretch, even if it was nearly painful for him to go so slow. As the head of his dick pressed against your eager and weeping womb, the little spines at the base brushed your clit and folds, and the final little push finished you off. You threw your head back, eyelids fluttering, nails leaving crescents on his shoulders. He groaned as your tight cunt pulsed around him, more of your slick spurting out from where he was filling you. When the waves of your orgasm faded, you still were shuddering, tipsy on the pleasure.

"Ready, love?"

"Hongjoong~" You mewled, fingers rubbing over his hot skin, blunt nails scratching a path down from where you had them. Your other leg ended up hooked over his elbow as well, and when he pulled out, only about halfway, the little barbs tugged at your gummy walls. He snapped his hips then, burying back inside, battering the fat head against your cervix. He was right, he couldn't hold back. He wanted to start slow, let you get used to it, but he couldn't. The next thrust had no warning, his pace was immediately relentless, your knees pressed up toward your ears. He was fucking you stupid, the noises you let out sounding more and more like your animal kin, bleats and moans melding. Your body had gone limp, only your arms had any strength, hands digging into the pelt under your hips. Your head lolled and your breasts bounced with each thrust. You couldn't think to let him know as he barreled through your third orgasm, more slick gushing from your cunt. His noises were animalistic at that point, anyone passing would think a real lion was rutting in that cave. His tongue ran over his long fangs, saliva spilling from his lips as he growled and grunted.

"Aw, fuck, (Y/N)." He chuckled, burying his cock as deep as he could, pressing those little spines into your groin, pumping your eager womb full. You weren't even sure you could actually get pregnant, but he was bound and determined to fill you to the point that it would leak out of you for days. The heat of his cum inside brought you over the edge too, a much smaller climax racking you. He was still hard as a rock though. You gasped, your lungs spasming as he pulled his cock all the way out, those little barbs digging in. Your world spun, your chest and stomach to the pelts below then, and he yanked your hips up, sinking his cock back in once more. At that angle he got even deeper somehow, each rough plow of his dick battering your back walls. Your vision blurred further, eyes rolling back, fingers futilely digging into the fur below you. His hips pummeled against the skin of your ass hard, the smacking combined with his beastly grunts made your ears twitch. His hand went back to your tail, wrapping around the base, tugging a bit. Shivering shot straight up your spine from where he had you, cunt weeping along with you, tears and drool leaving a puddle on the pelts under you.

"Fucking hell, love. You're so good for me~" He groaned, chuckling as your walls fluttered through another climax. Your cunt and clit stung from the overstimulation, but you needed more, you needed him to pump you full more. The bite on your shoulder flared with heat, so did your skin as his hands wrapped around the small of your waist. His thrusts once again grew unsteady, instead they were hard and shallow, pulling back just enough to rake those little barbs over your clit over and over.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck." You rambled, vision already spotting with white, then nearly screamed when he came again, spurts of white hot jizz leaking from your hole, not able to handle the amount. Your cunt sprayed out as well, the mix of your release leaving a mess on the pelts. You gasped for air, heart thudding, sweat dripping from your forehead. He was still hard. Maybe that's why your people were warned about mixing with predators. His stamina was a beast in itself.

"Can you keep going love? Lions go for a whole day sometimes." Hongjoong groaned when your cunt clenched again, really hoping you could keep going. His body needed yours, just as bad for both of you, and he wanted to fuck you the rest of the week if he could. He might be able to, you on the other hand…

"Fuck me stupid, I don't- just your cock~!" You whined and moaned, giggling like an idiot as his hips rolled again. Picking back up to his monster pace again. Every drag of his dick seemed to eek a tiny little orgasm out of you, your body strung so tight, it sang with every one of his movements. Your brain vaguely registered as the sunlight faded from the hole in the ceiling, fading to the cool moonlight. You didn't think you could walk for a week after, he had fucked so many orgasms out of and into you, you lost count. Globs of thick seed slipped out of your cunt when he finally pulled out, cock finally softening. Your face was blank, eyes open but barely conscious.

"Sleep, my love. I'll need you again in the morning."

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[altf4d3lete]

Anyway,, saw a weyler saying that Enid may have seen Wednesday as prey in ep8 and Tyler could have potentially saved Wednesday from Enid.. and to that I have to say,

does this look like the face of a killer to you??!?! That is a SMILE if I’ve ever seen one. Girly was so proud of herself. She WANTED Wednesday to recognize her, that’s why she stopped. She WANTED Wednesday to acknowledge that she shifted, wanted Wednesday to know that she was protecting her. Like look at her. She STOPPED IN HER TRACKS while fighting a huge ass monster to fucking smile at Wednesday and be like “babe look omg I’m a real werewolf look look!!!!!!!!”

That is a golden retriever bruh. The only thing she would have done to Wednesday is fucking smother her with love or some shit let’s be so fr rn. If bro had a tail it would be wagging so hard.

She’s such a silly lil creature I love her sm

[oddheadd]

Perfect Husband

You didn't have that much experience with guys, and the little things you did experience weren't good at all. Everything felt so... Empty. The "Wyd" texts and shallow conversations at the bar didn't satisfy you. You knew what you wanted, and you decided to go for it.

So when you met him it felt so real and unreal at the same time.. He felt real as in he understood you, he engaged in interesting conversations and knew just what was the best for you.

...And he felt unreal as in he wasn't... Human? Like a man from 19th century novels, he was gentle, polite, relatable but mysterious enough to keep you wanting him. The problem before was everybody acting same, now you were weirded out with how unique he was? You started thinking you were the problem.

Therefore, after a few months of dating, when he set up a beautiful dinner table for you two, with candles, flowers, perfectly cooked delicacies and asked you to marry him, you said yes.

You cut the steak and...

"Oh... This seems raw..?"

"It's medium rare, dear. But I won't feel bad if you don't want to eat it." - he smiled.

You felt lucky. So, you cut a piece of it, and put the red, moist and almost slimy piece of meat in your mouth. His smile widened as he watched you do so. You chewed and chewed, trying not to think too much about the texture or the taste, instead washing it down with red wine and forcing a smile.

The night ended with him gently holding and kissing you, while not so gently fucking into you. It felt almost like a reward for accepting his proposal, and the amount of times he made you cum only supported that theory.

The wedding happened shortly after, him making sure it was as big or as small as you wanted.

Everything after that felt like a dream... In a literal sense. You found yourself derealizating on more occasions than you can remember. Feeling dizzy, out of the place and unreal was then a daily accurance for you. And you didn't quite feel comfortable with talking about it with your husband.

But it didn't matter... Not as long as at the end of the day you laid in his arms.

However, even that comfort was broken when only weeks after your marriage, he started staying at his job later and later... As soon as he got home he'd take a shower, too.

Suspecting that your husband was cheating, you decided to follow him one day.

The day went on fine, he stayed at his job til 8, but then he left. You quietly followed, wanting to catch him in the act. He... Went into the woods..? Was he actually fucking someone in the woods? Then you saw another person... But they seemed to not be aware of your husband being there. In fact, he was watching them... Stalking them like a predator would to a prey. The person was obviously wasted, having come in the woods to relieve themself.

Your dear husband got up from his hiding spot, and approached the person... And so you watched in horror as his limbs started twisting unnaturally, making popping and cracking sounds as, his skin changing it's color into a dark red, almost a bloody color. He turned into something incomprehensible... A monster.

His now inhumane looking jaw unclenched, opening so wide he could swallow a man whole, and he took a generous bite out of the person, their bloodcurdling screams not loud enough to bury the sound of your ears ringing.

Despite the scenery being hard to look at, you turned around to leave, but stumbled and fell down with a loud noise.

Your husband's head turned towards you slowly, and his smile fell.

The dream turned into a nightmare.

Man I just love creepy, cannibalistic, eldrich monsters/gods and not in an only ha they're sexy way (I blame the movie Ritual)

[edgeray]

“LATE NIGHT DEVIL, PUT YOUR HANDS ON ME

and never never never ever let go”- Teeth, 5 Seconds of Summer

Mafia AU! Arlecchino x Reader Oneshot

Author's Note: It's been a while since I've actually published anything on here. Well, my gay ass is back with another oneshot. This one has been in the works for at least a month. I'm considering making a Part 2, but that will definitely take at least a couple weeks for me to publish (if not months). I wish I was kidding. School literally hates me and my teachers are incessant on killing my GPA. This is also a gift for @megistusdiary because it'll be her birthday when I post this. Please go check out her blog for amazing genshin wlw content (especially Arlecchino content!) Would you guys like this on AO3 as well?

Content Warning/Info: This is a long af oneshot (6.3k words), long af descriptions and kinda long intro, Arlecchino is referred to with they/them pronouns, implied female but no usage of feminine pronouns for Reader, general dark-ish content, pet names, Arlecchino is a lil scary, I've never been to a club so I apologize for the very inaccurate information, nor have I ever been apart of the mafia so also inaccurate, a bit suggestive but otherwise sfw, if I'm missing anything feel free to tell me!

---

Monsters are said to have lied underneath beds–waiting to ensnare an unknowing victim–or stalk hidden among the depths of a closet–awaiting an opportune moment to strike its next prey. Monsters are fabled entities that are used to scare off children from bad behavior and are quickly eased from the mind by coddling parents. The mere notion of a monster shooed away like a pesky fly, swept underneath the subconscious like forgotten specks of dirt. 

You know otherwise. Real monsters don’t lurk on the undersides of mattresses; no, they lurk both in the skies above and the depths below. They do not stalk dark closets because they instead stalk alleys in daylit streets. Monsters are very real, that you know is true since you’ve seen your fair share of them. You’ve met monsters in person–they’ve come to you before. Terrifying is an understatement for them, and each time one has appeared as a client, you’re no less scared shitless.

You’ve learned that even inhumane demons find themselves in need of entertainment; like the sinful creatures they are, they seek self-pleasure. And that is how you found yourself in this particular circle of hell, meant to serve and please demons, devils, and monsters alike. Perhaps it was a revolting job, working at a strip club run by a criminal organization but it paid decent money for being danced on the fingertips of whoever you were unfortunate enough to be assigned to.

If it was a regular strip club, being an exotic dancer would have been fine. It wouldn't be so bad. Lustful and prying eyes can be accustomed to quickly, and so are the flattering compliments and the awkward flirting by middle-aged married men. However, there was a difference between lecherous and predatory gazes. Here, you aren’t even viewed as a person, no, the clients here, those that come in reeking of smoke or blood (though sometimes both), armed with knives and guns on their person, see you as nothing more than a toy or prey for them. Even in the eyes of your employer, you're less than human in their eyes. 

‘You harm our merchandise, you’ll pay for it,’ is the warning given to every guest when they first enter. Merchandise. That's what you are. And that single line of words is the only thing that assures you of your safety among mafia members, gangsters, crooks, and whatnot. You've heard that the organization behind this strip club does well in enforcing that rule according to other dancers, but you personally don't want to see if the statement is true. You've been here for a little over a year, and besides bruising grips and pulled hair you’ve surprisingly yet to be seriously injured in any way. So maybe monsters do have a little humanity in them. 

You're quickly growing to be a fan favorite as of recently, which means more money goes your way, but you're not sure how you feel about all the attention on you. It's most likely because of how often you offer private dances and private rooms to clients. Whatever gets you the most money; the faster you make money the faster you can pay off your debt and be out of here. 

Tonight is supposed to be no different from other nights. You perform on stage, you rile up the crowd, you get showered in tips, and if there is a customer that looks mentally sane enough not to murder you in private, you take them to the back. Except, tonight, you're approached by your boss, who informs you that the entirety of the club was reserved by the Fatui, a well-known mafia more powerful and larger than the one that backs you up, for some celebration. These kinds of occurrences in the club rarely crop up, but when they do, they're often the most opportune time to bag in an abundant amount of money. Big shots like the Fatui pay and tip well, but there's one unsaid risk that comes with this: as a mere dancer like yourself, your life quite literally dangles in the Fatuis’ hands tonight. The organization that owns this establishment can't retaliate against the Fatuis if they so choose to dismiss the warning. They can't even compare to the might of the Fatui.

Simply put, if a Fatui kills you tonight, no one could do more besides bat their eyelashes. You're not at all pleased with this predicament of practically bordering on death, especially when you know one wrong move with one too hot-tempered Fatui could land you at the pearly gates. Keep pleasing the crowd, keep entertaining them, keep racking in the money, you remind yourself as you continue your dance, twirling around the pole sensually, and the customers devour every movement with their eyes. The only comfort you're given is that you've heard the Fatui are quite reasonable and diplomatic most of the time. This is especially true for the Harbingers, you've heard, the twelve most elite members that serve under the Tsaritsa, and the ones that are the most exclusive customers this night. That doesn't mean the Harbingers are any more humane than the average crook. Having worked in a strip club run by the mafia and surrounded by criminal organizations, the more rumored something is, the more dangerous it is. They can be considered devils amongst demons even. That's simply how vile they're supposed to be. 

The most concerning problem about the Harbingers is that you don’t know what they look like, only the occasional whisper has alluded to how to distinguish between the twelve. Perhaps, you can survive through the night if you try not to draw too much attention; let the other dancers shine instead and hope you don’t get requested for a private room or dance. That way, you can ensure you don’t end up dead. 

Your time to go upstage comes sooner than you’re prepared for. Your hands are clammy, and your form trembles in a way that only happened during your first month. Both reactions don’t make for a very good combination when your survival relies on you not fucking up and disappointing criminal customers. As you approach the pole, just like every time you’ve done, you make sure that the crowd’s gazes are in the backdrop of your mind, and instead, fixate on repeating the movements you’ve been taught and have mastered with your experience. Bet your survival on the provocative sway of your hips, the practiced showcase of your legs, and the allure of your dancing form. Beguile the crowd, but not too much, just enough to wow them. From what you can tell by the volume of the crowd, you’re doing a good job pleasing the Fatui enough. Your body stops tremoring after a few minutes on stage, and with one last final push of courage, you focus your eyes on the crowd before you.

Unsurprisingly, the makeup of the Fatui are men, though there are notably quite a few women. Either way, all of their attention is on you. As your eyes scan across a crowd, for one reason or another, you stop at a particular set of eyes near the back of the crowd. Intent, pitch-black abysses stare back, like they were trying to bore into your soul and devour every single motion of yours. They don’t quite hold the same ravenous desire as many of those before you right now, you mentally note with curiosity. It feels like your form is being calculated, in the way a predator would cautiously observe their next prey, a sensation you’ve experienced a few times, but each is no less chilling. The weight of their engrossed gaze causes you to shiver momentarily, and you snap away from their disturbing gaze to prevent any fumbling or faltering while you’re on stage. 

Tonight marks the first time you actively seek out the same viewer while on stage, or even, during your entire time here. For some reason, you feel awfully bold, or curious, whichever two comforts you more, and unlike the meek little rabbit you usually are, you instead search for the viewer’s gaze. You find the pair of eyes with relative ease, as you remember that above their eyes are distinctive snow-white strands with streaks as black as their orbs. You take a moment to study them, and they remind you of a lion–or lioness–among hyenas. The aura they exude varied quite a bit compared to the other Fatui in front of you: not rambunctious, or arrogant; it's apparent they held an aura of indomitable authority just from the way they held themselves. Perfect posture with their clasped hands nested in their lap, with one leg raised over the other. They’re an embodiment of perfected elegance, however, much like a porcelain doll, they’re also expressionless, their appearance unmarred. You don’t examine the Fatui’s form for much longer because their scrutiny on you pricks at your skin irritatedly. 

You don’t look for them again throughout your performance. In fact, you hope you never meet those charcoal pits again. You’re afraid that if you do, you’ll be ensnared by whatever beastly claws or fangs you know that Fatui hides underneath that impenetrable mask. The moment your time on stage ends, you rush back to the changing room to shake off your nerves. You sit down at a nearby chair, taking in deep sighs as you attempt to forget how you were stared down like a you were cornered, defenseless animal. And that is what you are, as much as you hate it. There’s nothing that can protect you from the Fatui. Maybe if you hide, never show your face for the rest of the night, they’ll forget they ever saw you and they’ll target another dancer. Surely, that will work, won’t it? 

You’re able to steady your breathing before you can delve into a panic attack. Tonight, you decide, you’re not going to take any customers to any private rooms or take any private dances. You’d be missing out on a lot of money, but your life is more of a priority as of currently; not after the ‘encounter’ with that individual, you don’t want to think about how many more are just like them, hiding in the crowd like they were awaiting an opportunity to pounce on your vulnerable form. 

Unfortunately, it seems like someone else has other plans for you because your manager storms into the room asking for your whereabouts before his eyes narrow on you. You immediately sit up, stiff as a board when he practically marches his way towards you. 

"Someone wants you." 

You sigh and shake your head. You should have known. "Not tonight." 

He clicks his tongue. "You know I can't allow that tonight." 

You bite your lip. "Just pass them to someone else." 

"They're not someone you or I can refuse." 

"Who?" You question with a shuddering breath, your nails digging into your thigh. 

"The fourth one. The Knave. Lord Arlecchino."

Fuck your life. You might as well pull the trigger now. You’ve heard faint whispers of each Harbinger from the customers audacious enough to speak of them. The youngest, the eleventh, charming and boyish. The ninth, money-obsessed but a pretty looker. The eighth, elegant and cold, yet no less alluring. The seventh, as human-like as their robotic creations, which to say isn’t very. The sixth, is hotheaded and mysterious. The fifth, unknown. And the fourth?

Insane. Ruthless. Bloodthirsty. That’s how the fourth is described. You shiver at the horrors that appear on the forefront of your mind when imagining what may come for you. If you're lucky, you'll be alive at the end of the night, more than likely clinging to the edge of living. 

“Well? What are you waiting for? Get ready as soon as you can.” 

And you do. It’s not long until you stand in front of the private room’s door, your guest is already inside more than likely. The Fourth Harbinger is waiting, you remind yourself, fruitlessly trying to swallow down your stress. You can be dead the minute you step inside, this room could be marked as your grave. Whatever he tells you to do, you’ll obey wordlessly to survive. Just nod along, smile, and do whatever it is that he tells you regardless of the demand. You inhale deeply, regaining some ease of mind, before you bring your knuckles to the door, knocking. 

“Come in,” comes a deep, flat voice, slightly muffled by its distance but what surprises you is how feminine the Harbinger sounds. Maybe you got the wrong room. You glance back at the room number plate on the door, and it’s the room you remember your manager mentioning. It’s the right room. Maybe someone else? You don’t have time to wonder, however, as you enter the room, knowing that if it is the Fourth, it wouldn’t be wise to keep him (Her? Them? You’ll just stick with ‘them’ now.) waiting. 

“Lord Arlecchino?” You inquire as you enter the room, closing the door behind you. Sucking in a harsh inhale, you instantly recognize their distinct hair. It’s them. Your sight is immediately greeted by the figure sitting on the couch before you, sitting in exactly the same way you discovered them–crossed-legged and lounging back with unfaltering confidence. The Knave wears a scarlet blazer over a black compressed turtleneck, with a matching set of crimson leggings. Upon closer inspection, you’re able to make out red irises in their jet-black eyes. Despite the blatant and literal red flag, something about their appearance draws you in even when they scream danger. They’re… you’re not quite sure how to describe them. You admire the unblemished and pale skin, their elegant and rugged demeanor is like the perfect balance between femininity and masculinity. Are they beautiful, or are they handsome? You think both. 

Arlecchino stares back at you like they’re considering devouring you then and there. You can’t suppress the shudder that runs down your spine. You’re a sheep before a wolf. There’s something so chilling about them that even with your experience with other clients, none has ever made you feel this way with just their mere gaze alone. This is what separates the average crook from one of the most powerful mafia members you've ever heard of.

You wait for a response but they only continue to observe you. You take the silence as confirmation to your question and that they’re anticipating something from you. Biting back a sigh of resignation, your hands hook underneath the band of your bra top and you lift it just the slightest amount before a cutting voice makes you freeze.

“What are you doing?” the Harbinger demands, their tone chilling and apathetic, making you want to shrink in yourself immediately. Your blood pumps loudly in your ears and your hands tremble a bit. Something about how designing their gaze makes you suddenly self-aware in a way you’ve never felt before another client–you’re practically half-naked in front of them with your skimpy bra top, undergarments, and fishnets and now is the only moment that you've actually considered how little covering is on you. 

Why are they stopping you? Isn’t this what they wanted you to do? Or maybe they just want to do it themselves. Those types of customers always have the most bruising of grips and suffocating of holds. You stiffen at the notion. How are you going to survive this night with a Fatui Harbinger of all things? How many of your limbs are going to be fractured and how many of your bones are going to end up broken? 

“I…I’m undressing,” your meek voice sounds out and you hate the crack in your speech. The Harbinger continues to scrutinize you. You don’t dare continue disrobing yourself. 

There are several beats of wordless response before they then stand up from the couch. 

Oh shit. You’ve fucked up. Are they going to kill you now? Is this your end? 

Every thought is telling you to run in the opposite direction as they stalk up to you, but you're petrified as you realize with a chill that they’re taller than you. You’re not short by any means, a bit above average height, but they tower over you, looking down at you from above and casting judgment on you like a god. Once they stride toward you, you avoid eye contact by looking straight, observing their neck and clavicle that protrudes from underneath the fabric. You tense when they raise a hand, their manicured fingers placing themselves underneath your chin and long, carmine nails dig into the underside of your jaw, making you wince. They forcefully tilt your head, raising your focus onto their face. 

It’s like they plunged their hands down your throat and ripped out the oxygen from your lungs, leaving you unable to breathe. Up close, the first thing you notice is their lips, plump and red from their lipstick. Briefly, you wonder what color their lipstick would look on your skin. Then your eyes travel up, red-crossed eyes gaze back at you and you gape quietly at the distinct shape of their pupils. You swear that their pupils flash red as you finally lock eye contact with them. 

“Did I tell you to?” Their tone is cold compared to the strange softness of their handsome (beautiful?) face. 

Something in your gut coils inwardly and you want to look away, but their firm hold on your chin prevents you. You bite your bottom lip to repress a whimper. You’re delicate glass in their hands, and they can break you so, so easily. 

“No, sir.” Only the numerous times you’ve said this phrase ensures you don’t stumble over your words. They don’t answer promptly, but as they observe your features, their lips quirk up the slightest amount. 

“You know how to address me. Very good,” Arlecchino purrs after several beats of silence, in a low, oh-so-sultry tone, and oh. Oh. 

You’re not sure why, but their last two words make your stomach churn, but not in a discomforting way. In the way that lights a fire underneath your skin and spreads heat to every part of your body. You’ve never quite felt this way with another customer. You couldn’t believe that your body reacts this way just from a single praise but it doesn’t stop the pooling heat in your bowels. The chill down your spine still remains in place, but there’s an off-putting equilibrium of iciness and fervor generated from the client. 

The Fatui’s eyes stay fixated on you wordlessly until the hand on your chin turns your head, finally breaking you free of their intense behold. Their grip slackens so that they can trace their nails gently down your throat, every inch of surface their fingertips brush against ignites a blaze on your skin. A shuddering exhale leaves your lips and it seems like they take notice because from the corner of your eye, the small uptick of their mouth grows. Despite how sensual and probing the Harbinger’s touch feels, there’s nothing lecherous about it–purely just intrigue and fascination. It’s a touch you both have and never experienced before. Cold nails rake against your throat, not enough to mark or scratch, but enough to invoke shivers. 

You’re aware you should be terrified, but for a reason you can’t pin down, you can’t jerk away from their touch. You try to reason with yourself it was only because you’re one upset away from getting yourself killed but that reasoning falls apart when their hand gingerly traces your jawline and you make the softest of groans, a barely audible noise of content. Unfortunately for you, the sound seems to have reached Arlecchino’s ears and their expression softens slightly: their eyes narrow less and their brows aren’t as creased. And that smirk–if you could even call it that from how faint it is–becomes a half-smirk. 

They pull their hand away and your trance is broken, reality returning back to you as you remember that the person before you is still a Fatui Harbinger, no matter how bizarrely melting their touch was. They turn on their heel and walk towards the couch in front of you; the slightest bit of heaviness is placed on your heart. You remain stationary where you are, observing them as they seat themselves gracefully on the couch, and their attention encounters yours again. Their black pits hold expectancy in them. At first, you’re clueless as to what the criminal desires from you, but then their legs spread apart, an inviting gesture that beckons you and every rational thought leaves your easily swayed mind. Your heart skips a beat, and you're sure this time it's not out of trepidation. 

Even if you didn’t command them to, your legs would take you to their seating figure. You stand before them, feeling blatantly disrespectful to look down at Arlecchino, but you await their order. They lean back, lounging laxly against the couch, their posture never lacking their usual self-assurance. It only ties the knot in your gut tighter. You’re aware of what they’re instructing you to do, but the absent confirmation makes you hesitant. It seems like the Knave picks up on this because the room echoes with one definitive spouted word from their lips, authority and dominance ringing through their husky voice. 

“Sit.” 

Your legs buckle underneath you from the one-worded response, the demand only stoking the consuming fire inside you. Eager to please, you perch yourself on their lap, straddling them, your knees pressed into the furniture below you and encasing both of their thighs between your own. 

Oh, you think to yourself as your legs make contact with their thighs. They're firm. And for some reason, that provokes your stomach to churn in itself even more. You're so close to them, enough to feel their breath cascade against your skin. 

As you seat yourself, you nearly clumsily topple over, instinctively grasping onto their shoulders for support. Their shoulders are remarkably broad, you regard, well-muscled as well. Their hands creep up on your hips, steady but gentle hands grasping on each bare side of yours to stabilize you. The heat that radiates from their hands is infectious, regardless of the nails that burrow into your plush waist. For the first time, you flush considerably, a sweltering inferno forming in your cheeks and your head fills with dizziness. Their touch is gentle–something you rarely experience with customers–so, so gentle that you would describe it as heavenly. How can someone so inexplicably vile have heaven on their fingertips?

It's not a position you never found yourself in. In fact, it's far from the first time you've been like this with another client. But here, as you're sat on top of the Fatui Harbinger, and red x-pupils search yours, a foreign feeling passes through you. Placing your finger on it, you dubiously think it's bashfulness, but the heartbeat that sings in your ears and pulses underneath your fingertips tells you otherwise, tells you it's something more. Against that, you remove your grasp on their shoulders and place your palm flat against the couch’s surface behind the Knave. 

You squirm a bit, nervousness in your form as you remain as still as you possibly can, waiting for any more instructions. All you need to do is act like an obedient doll for them in order to survive; compliance is the best way of ensuring survival with people like these. You feel like you're merely eye candy from the way that their attention flits across your body, but you're immobile throughout the entirety of their observance. Being looked at is much better than any physical interaction. Their hands still cup your hips, but slowly, they descend to the side of your thighs, making your skin feel tingly. 

Impulsively, you mumble out a quiet "Sir…" as strange sensations brush against your skin. 

The sound surprises you and you feel on edge as their eyes travel from your lower half to your face. You gulp considerably. From their stare, they expect more of a response, a reason for their addressment, but even you don’t know yourself; it seems like an unconscious calling that just rolled off your tongue. You cow underneath their gaze, even when the two of you are at eye level. When you linger in quietude, their hand releases one of your thighs and lifts to your face, supporting your chin while their thumb rests on your bottom lip, unfurling it just the slightest amount to implore an answer from your now parted lips. Gleaming scarlet pupils grip your regard sternly, piercing into you and instilling you to spew something out. Except, you still can’t, now too entranced and lost in the crimson. 

“Doll.” 

Despite the pet name, it's devoid of any affection or warmth. It's a word that drips of command, a reminder of your place: simply a toy that they can play with however they want, a manipulated and decorated plaything for their amusement. That means you answer to them, and so when they request a response, you're under the obligation to please them. Your survival is in their palms anyway, if they wanted you to dance, you would just so they wouldn’t strangle the life out of you. 

However, its implication doesn’t prevent the tingling shudders that wrack your body nor the involuntary clenching of your thighs around theirs. Was it the gravelly voice that aroused your behavior? Your cheeks flare at the knowledge that Harbinger sensed the physical reaction. It shouldn't be possible. It shouldn't be possible, your thoughts repeat, but then they're interrupted by: 

"Oh?" Arlecchino inquires to themselves, a stark amusement in their speech. Their red glare illuminates slightly, replacing the lost darkening with a faint glow in their pupils, and the corner of their mouth curls up. It is only then that you discover something entirely new: that monsters can be sinfully, cataclysmically, terrifyingly beautiful and the sight before you is the most exquisite example. A devil has you wrapped in its claws and its fangs readied for devouring but it’s disguised as an ethereal angel; blinded by their perilous allure, you mistake their snow-white hair, their lustrous piercing rubies, their flawless porcelain skin, and their burning, fleeting touches as traits of a seraph. From a measly smirk, you forget the atrocities lying underneath their fingertips and dismiss the hazard their presence holds. 

The hand on your thigh rakes its fingers up, red nails trailing across the surface of your fishnet, wrenching out a breathy gasp from you as they travel inwards. Tingling pleasure injects into your veins as you subconsciously lean in, imploring for further sensual contact. A plea sits on your tongue and nests in your eyes as you beg them through your pitiful expression. They drink in your desperation with a slow swipe of their tongue over their lips, and that single action is debauched enough to elicit a soft groan from your throat.

“Well, aren’t you an amusing toy?” They drawl out with a preposing rasp and dark abysses glint with an insatiable hunger. 

They smirk enticingly, their thumb running across your bottom lip and smearing your lipstick on their thumb pad. Their grip on your chin tightens a bit, pulling you even closer to them before a shadow casts over you when their face nears. Before you can even fathom their intentions, they descend upon you, closing the distance between the two of you. Your lips are greeted with something pillowy soft and fervently warm, and you sharply inhale from the sensation. Every one of your nerves sings frenziedly, your muscles tense all over, and your heartbeat drums deafeningly in your ears–all of this as your body is engulfed in a fervid tornado of heat that makes you lightheaded with pleasure. It takes you several beats to realize the reason for this is that Lord Arlecchino, the Fourth Harbinger, the Knave is kissing–no, kissing is far too intimate, devouring–you voraciously like they're trying to rob you of any air, trying to imprint themselves on your mouth. Their mouth dominates yours, pushing against them with a deep fervor and famished urgency, eager to swallow every bit of shocked noise you make. 

You close your eyes and allow yourself to indulge. 

You first taste lipstick with a waxy flavor hitting your tastebuds. It’s cold against your lips, yet warm at the same time. But the physical texture and flavor of their lips are irrelevant; there’s only one true manner you would distinguish their taste: 

They taste like sin. 

The type of sin that’s chocolate coated and sprinkled with colorful toppings; depravity so sweet and charming it makes you reconsider the bounds of right and wrong. Degeneracy is far, far tastier than anything you’ve indulged in before. How can something so evil be so heavenly? Cushiony soft, placidly warm, flatteringly zealous, it’s like having a dance with a devil; so unequivocally immoral but no less gratifying. You question if they really belong to the Fatui because how can something like this come from such? You want to engrave the texture of their mouth onto your memory, feel this faux intimacy even when you’ve long parted. The Fourth Harbinger, you surmise as you surrend your will to them, is decadent–the only word that can be defined as both wicked and delectable at once–the perfect word to describe them. 

The last remaining bit of reasoning comes to the backdrop of your thoughts and begs you to not be swept away in the heavenly embrace. You discount it in favor of accepting this godsent gift by leaning further with a weak imitation of their ravishing lips and pressing back. It’s a feeble attempt to match their insatiate nature, far too domineering and forceful than you can manage but they display a token of appreciation when they squeeze your thigh, indenting your skin shallowly with the burrowing of their nails. The action exposes just how sensitive you’ve gone underneath their touch and you reward them with the sweetest of sounds. 

“Arlecchino,” you mumble with half-lidded dazed eyes in between ravenous exchanges and it evokes a depraved throaty growl from the Fatui, like provoking a call from a starving beast. They lean deeper to indulge in your taste. The gruff sound reaches your ears and it’s like a psalm–you shudder from its musical melody. 

Their clutch on your jaw releases and their fingers outline your jawline before snaking to the back of your head. Well-manicured digits entangle themselves in your hair, and there’s a gentle shove against your skull that forces you deeper into the kiss. Your hands clutch onto the couch underneath you as tight as you physically can for any sense of grounding and your knees attempt to close in even more to feel more of their body against yours. The hand on your leg, in turn, caresses the length of your thigh. 

Every graceful touch, stroke, and brush exudes an unyielding and infectious warmth that only adds to the stoking fire in your gut, and you’re bathed in so much swelter from the ecstasy that you feel dizzy. Yet, you never want it to end, you grow more addicted and drunk with each encounter of their lips. That, paired with your strained breathing, prompts your stamina to falter much sooner than the Harbinger’s. You let out a soft whine to signal your depleting oxygen, and their mouth unlatch with yours, pulling away despite your ache for more. With the separation comes a small string of saliva attached between the two of you, evidence of the shared intimacy that’s snapped when they lick their lips. The hand behind your head detangles from your hair and you silently mourn over the loss of contact. 

You heave for air, your chest rising and falling rapidly. You’re a little perturbed when you notice that they’re not even out of breath, a small but firm reminder that they’re as inhuman as humans can be. That knocks a sense of reality back into you. Customer, mafia, Fatui, Harbinger, it comes back to you like a train. Here you are swapping spit with them while in the lap of potentially the most dangerous criminal you could ever meet, but fuck were they a good kisser–you’ve never experienced anything that came close to this in your lifetime.

Any foolish doubtful contemplation of the morality of this interaction is swept away just like that when you hear:

“Greedy little thing that you are,” they regard with the most cunning and handsome of smiles, discrete amusement dripping from their words. Their dark pits behold you entirely, the same way they have always done when it seems like they were contemplating what part of you to savor the most. Only this time, you’re not so disturbed by the notion. If anything, the swirling heat in between your legs suggests the opposite.  

Greedy wasn't a word often associated with you, yet you couldn't more correctly describe yourself in that moment. Greedy. Greedy for a Fatui Harbinger no less. As ashamed as you should be, there's no use denying that you crave for their touch, for their gaze, for anything and everything they're willing to give you. You want everything and more. The more you contemplate, the more it seems obvious why you wouldn’t. Are they a devil disguised as an angel, or are they an angel that fell from grace? Regardless, they bring nirvana to you. An incessant desire bubbles inside you, your throat swelling up with an urgent request on the tip of your tongue. Would they allow such a thing if you plead? Would they be offended by your impudence? Would they punish you for such? But the necessity outweighs any reconsideration of your insolence and the supplicant beg tumbles out of your loose lips. 

“Can I… touch you please, my Lord?” You croak out, wincing at just how wretched it comes out. The response from them is not immediate as the two of you stew in silence, a building sense of dejection inside of you. The expression on their face noticeably contorts, smile lessening, their brows furrowing, and their red x’s glinting dimly. Their free hand raises to near your neck and you suck in a harsh breath as their fingers enclose around your throat. The mere action sends a stinging reminder to your lust-dazed thoughts about their position, and a chill pierces you. 

Mafia, Fatui, Harbinger, the Fourth Harbinger, the Knave–the labels cycle through your thoughts. Though their grip is lax, not exactly suffocating and giving ample space to breathe, their fingertips does acutely jab into your skin, a display of their impressive grip strength. You have no doubt that they can suffocate you with one hand alone, snap your neck, or, as your mind ventures into more harrowing territories, crush your skull. Those thoughts alone has you breathless with anticipation. A heavy weight suddenly appears in your gut, so heavy that you feel like you can’t move so much as a muscle. 

Did you just go too far? Was that too much to ask? Was this how you were going to die?

The reflex to gag and inhale combat each other in your throat, a discomforting sensation that crawls up your spine while you tremble. You’re almost certain that the nails have penetrated the layer of skin, drawing beads of blood that’ll trail down your mark. You whimper at the prickly pain. Yet, in all your unease, the most masochistic thought arrives briefly at the forefront, and you can’t help but consider: this position is just as intimate as all the other interactions. You’re already so vulnerable in their lap, does the hand around your neck change your peril in any way? No, you’ve been a defenseless lamb to a slaughter the moment you’ve stepped into the domain of a menacing wolf. 

Ah. Even now, you can’t dismiss the warmth of their fingertips. 

“Do you still want to touch me when I do this?” They demand callously, their voice harsh and reverberating through the room. Their grasp closes more around, and you feel your supply of oxygen inhibited. Tears begin to brim your eyes, but you’re undeterred. Unlike Arlecchino’s, your answer is instant and breathless. Your eyes intently lock on theirs, the hardened expression enough to satisfy their question. There’s no need for contemplation. Danger, you determine, is addicting. 

“Yes.”

The previously small smile stretches across their lips considerably. Content, or dare you say it, thrill writes itself over their face and the boulder previously pressed against your shoulders is lifted. Your throat is freed from their hold, but their touch doesn’t halt there. Instead, they rotate your head for you to face to the left, exposing your side profile to them. From the corner of your eyes, you watch as their face draws closer to your skin, hot breath cascading across the small dents her nails created. The one on your thigh finally leaves, moving to one of your hips, tender strokes across your flushed surface. They lean forward, and moist, plush skin meets yours. Lips traverse over the length of your neck, teeth scraping against, making you weakly groan. It takes all of your will to still your body, only allowing for the Harbinger to do whatever they desire to your form. Their touches are burning, burning, burning–so hot that you wonder if you’re experiencing a heat wave. Peppered kisses follow the edge of your jawbone, all the way up to your earlobe. A wet kiss graces your ear and then the most sinful of statements dignifies your eardrums, like a devil whispering hymns directly into your ear. 

“I think I’ll keep you to myself after this.”

A short hum follows afterward. 

“If you want to touch me, you’ll have to work for it. You’re only mine for tonight, aren't you? Entertain me. Give me a private dance, doll. After all, you have me for all night.” 

---

Link to M-Alexa's amazing art and how I imagine Arlecchino to look like in this oneshot.

[niki-phoria]

NOT EVEN THE GODS ABOVE CAN SEPARATE THE TWO OF US

pairing: leon kennedy x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: hurt comfort word count: 731

notes: set in the re4 castle, leon cries (kinda), reader cries, not proofread so pls forgive any mistakes !!

summary: leon can't bare the thought of losing you for a second. so what happens when you disappear for four hours in a haunted, monster-filled castle?

four hours. it’s been four hours since leon found himself in this hellhole. four hours of mindlessly wandering through seemingly endless corridors of concrete and stone. four hours of agonizingly tracing and retracing a maze filled with monsters. it almost reminds him of the haunted houses you’d drag him to, all too eager to bring him along to experience some fake scares for once. 

it’s been four hours since he lost you. 

an unrelenting chill blows past him again, causing goosebumps to arise along his exposed forearms. monsters don’t care about the cold, he supposes, though it would be nice to have his jacket. with his adrenaline slowly wearing off with each step he finds himself more and more susceptible to the unrelentingly cold castle. 

studying the monotone bricks ahead, leon’s mind wanders. he’s distracted. you shouldn’t have even been on the island, much less this close to whatever monstrosities linger far too close for comfort. what if you’re hurt? what if those monsters have somehow gotten to you. what if… the worst has already happened?

leon sighs. his eyes flutter closed for a second as he sends a silent prayer to a god he isn’t sure he ever really believed in. please be okay. if anything happens… take me instead. please be okay.

his heart leaps when he notices a soft scuffle. it’s nearby. something - or maybe someone - is in the darkness. leon’s hand instinctively draws to his knife. his fingers dig into the handle as he grips the blade tightly against his side. ready. 

he moves like an animal. a predator - ready to strike at any moment. the stone bricks behind him are ice cold as he presses his back against the wall, silently waiting for his prey. 

there’s another step. then another. and then -

“y/n?” he can almost feel his heart cease its beating in his chest. he blinks once. twice. like you’ll disappear in the milliseconds it takes for him to open his eyes again. his knife clatters to the ground in his shock. leon’s fingernails dig into the thick fabric of his gloves. he has to resist the urge to pinch himself in fear of waking up from whatever fucked up dream this is. 

“leon.” your voice wavers. a second passes. then another. and another. 

and then you’re running at him, all but tackling the man as you jump into his arms. leon stumbles backwards slightly. his combat boots scrape against the concrete floor as he scrambles to maintain his balance. he’s unfortunately not fast enough; the momentum sends both of you tumbling to the ground. 

leon’s back aches from where you both slammed into the cold floor below. he’s sure your knees do, too. you’re both covered in dirt. a layer of sweat and grime stains the fabric of your shirt. your hands are bloody and bruised and your arms will be littered with a variety of new scars by next month - you’re sure of it - but it doesn’t matter. because you’re real. 

you’re really here. you’re really wrapping your arms around his shoulders. you’re really burying your face into the crook of his neck. you’re really here.

“y/n.” this time his voice is louder. his body moves before his mind does. wrapping his arms around your waist, he sighs, taking in the feeling of you finally back in his arms once again. leon slips his hands underneath the fabric of your shirt, tracing his fingertips along the ebbs and flows of your back. 

leon squeezes his eyes shut; his grip around your waist tightens. his heart cracks a little more with each new tear he can feel drip against his skin and stain into the fabric of his shirt. gently rubbing his hand against your back, he hopes that with enough loving touches and whispered reassurances he’ll be able to mend your heart back together. 

leon is desperate. dull nails dig into the skin of your hips, as if the lack of separation between your bodies now will make up for lost time. “you’re here,” leon whispers. he isn’t sure if you can hear him. he can barely hear himself over the noise of his own beating heartbeat and your quiet sobs. “it’s okay. i’ve got you.” stray tears escape his own eyes before leon has the chance to stop them. “i won’t let anything happen to you ever again. i promise.”

if you enjoyed this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, consider checking out my resident evil masterlist <3

[blondephil]

hello (one of the) resident phannie data analyst(s) here with some parasocial stats on dnp’s movie tastes! following: distribution of dan and phil's ratings overall, movies they each rated 5 stars, their lowest-rated movies, and the similarities + differences in their tastes

(lore moment: yes i am a data analyst in my real job. yes i surprised myself with wanting to do this in my spare time. but then i remembered when we read dracula in college (yes i was an english major) and i graphed like, how many times dracula was referred to as vampire versus monster or something. so i shouldn’t be surprised.

first up, their overall rating patterns and by ~special status~ (i.e., wall-e, kill bill, avatar, lmao, plus big hero 6 for the fun of it)

dan’s rated 304 movies and phil’s rated 305. both of them have mean and median ratings of 4 with min 1 and max 5.

both rated kill bill vols. 1 and 2 a 5. wall-e got a 4.5 from dan and a 4 from phil (phake phans). both gave avatar a 3.5. and big hero 6 3.5 (dan) and 4.5 (phil)

rating distribution:

i did analyses here by genre but i need to fix the output (i’m writing all of these based on the markdown document from my phone on the subway, but i need to fix the outputs and i don’t have my computer. so those are pending but there are other genre analyses that i could do & haven’t yet!)

while i was sorting through the data i got the impression that dan overall rated movies higher than phil. so, among movies that they've both rated, here's some information

number of movies dan rated higher than phil: 65

Empire Strikes Back, Blade Runner, Return of the Jedi, My Neighbor Totoro, Back to the Future II, Nightmare Before Christmas, Toy Story, Phantom Mence, Donnie Darko, Attack of the Clones, Finding Nemo, Oldboy, The Notebook, Batman Begins, Brokeback Mountain, WALL-E, (500) Days of Summer, Up, The Hangover, Drive, The Cabin in the Woods, The Avengers, The Dark Knight Rises, Life of Pi, Skyfall, The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey, Whiplash, The Amazing Spider-Man 2, Room, The Hateful Eight, The Force Awakens, Manchester by the Sea, Deadpool, La La Land, Moonlight, Rogue One, Call Me By Your Name, Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 2., Wonder Woman, Spider-Man: Homecoming, I, Tonya, Thor: Ragnorak, Phantom Thread, Roma, The Favourite, The Lighthouse, Toy Story 4, Midsommar, Ad Astra, Knives Out, Soul, The Green Knight, No Time to Die, Don't Look Up, Spider-Man: No Way Home, Turning Red, Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness, Thor: Love and Thunder, The Banshees of Inisherin, The Fabelmans, Glass Onion, Beau is Afraid, Barbie, Oppenheimer, Poor Things

number of movies phil rated higher than dan: 55

Star Wars (New Hope), Blair Witch Project, Requiem for a Dream, Memento, Ocean's Eleven, Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, Iron Man 2, Thor, Captain America: The First Avenger, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Moonrise Kingdom, Iron Man 3, Gravity, Prisoners, The Wolf of Wall Street, The Grand Budapest Hotel, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, The Imitation Game, Nightcrawler, John Wick, Gone Girl, Big Hero 6, Jurassic World, The Martian, The Revenant, Nocturnal Animals, Split, Get Out, Baby Driver, The Disaster Artist, Dunkirk, The Shape of Water, The Greatest Showman, The Last Jedi, Ready Player One, Crazy Rich Asians, A Star is Born, Rocketman, Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood, Joker, The Rise of Skywalker, The Invisible Man, A Quiet Place Part II, Greenland, Tenet, Malignant, Eternals, The Matrix Resurrections, Scream (2022), Nope, Prey, Talk to Me, Avatar: The Way of the Water, The Super Mario Bros. Movie, Mission Impossible - Dead Reckoning Part One

number of movies they rated the same: 99!

Alien, ET, Gremlins, Back to the Future, Top Gun, Aliens, Home Alone, Silence of the Lambs, Jurassic Park, Pulp Fiction, The Lion King, Se7en, Scream, The Fifth Element, Titanic, The Truman Show, The Matrix, Magnolia, Spirited Away, Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, Spider-Man, Lost in Translation, Kill Bill, Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, Kill Bill Vol. 2, Mean Girls, Howl's Moving Castle, Children of Men, The Dark Knight, Pontypool, Inglourious Basterds, Avatar, Toy Story 3, Inception, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, Black Swan, The Social Network, 21 Jump Street, The Hunger Games, Silver Linings Playbook, The Conjuring, Snowpiercer, Her, Thor: The Dark World, The Hunger Games: Catching Fire, Boyhood, It Follows, Guardians of the Galaxy, Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance), Interstellar, Ex Machina, The Witch, Avengers: The Age of Ultron, Mad Max: Fury Road, Inside Out, Ant-Man, Captain America: Civil War, Your Name., Arrival, Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri, mother!, It, Blade Runner 2049, Hereditary, Black Panther, Annihilation, A Quiet Place, Avengers: Infinity War, Captain Marvel, Us, Avengers: Endgame, Parasite, It Chapter Two, Marriage Story, Uncut Gems, 1917, Black Widow, The Suicide Squad, Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings, Dune, Last Night in Soho, The Batman (2022), Everything Everywhere All at Once, X, The Northman, Top Gun: Maverick, Bullet Train, Barbarian, Pearl, M3GAN, Dungeons and Dragongs: Honor Among Thieves, Evil Dead Rise, Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 3., No Hard Feelings, Saltburn, Priscilla, Society of the Snow, Saw X, Leave the World Behind

i didn't analyse this by genre or anything, but i could -- so if you're interested lmk!

the 5 movies with the most different ratings between dan and phil

- Iron Man 2 (dan: 2, phil 3.5)

- The Greatest Showman (d: 2.5, p: 4)

- Malignant (d: 3, p: 4.5)

- Scream (2022) (d: 2.5, p: 4)

- Beau is Afraid (d: 3, p: 1.5)

Interesting that even though dan has more higher rated movies, 4/5 of these ones phil rated higher.

next, their 5-star movies

dan's five stars: 80

Alien, Empire Strikes Back, ET, Blade Runner, Gremlins, Back to the Future, Top Gun, Aliens, Stand by Me, The Grave of the Fireflies, My Neighbor Totoro, Back to the Future II, Home Alone, Silence of the Lambs, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, Jurassic Park, Nightmare Before Christmas, Schindler's List, Pulp Fiction, The Lion King, Toy Story, Fargo, Scream, The Fifth Element, Hercules, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Titanic, The Truman Show, The Matrix, Fight Club, Magnolia, The Emperor's New Groove, Donnie Darko, Moulin Rouge, Shrek, Spirited Away, Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, Finding Nemo, Kill Bill, Oldboy, Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, Shaun of the Dead, Kill Bill Vol. 2, Howl's Moving Castle, Revenge of the Sith, Brokeback Mountain, No Country for Old Men, The Dark Knight, Inception, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, The Tree of Life, 21 Jump Street, The Avengers, Life of Pi, Skyfall, Under the Skin, Whiplash, Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, Interstellar, Mad Max: Fury Road, Sicario, The Hateful Eight, La La Land, Arrival, mother!, Blade Runner 2049, Avengers: Infinity War, First Man, The Favourite, The Lighthouse, Parasite, Midsommar, Uncut Gems, 1917, Dune, Everything Everywhere All at Once, Top Gun: Maverick, Oppenheimer, Poor Things

phil's five stars:

Star Wars (New Hope), Alien, ET, Gremlins, Back to the Future, Top Gun, Aliens, Home Alone, Silence of the Lambs, Jurassic Park, Pulp Fiction, The Lion King, Scream, The Fifth Element, Titanic, The Truman Show, The Matrix, Magnolia, Requiem for a Dream, Memento, Spirited Away, Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, Kill Bill, Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, Kill Bill Vol. 2, Howl's Moving Castle, The Dark Knight, Inception, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, 21 Jump Street, Interstellar, Mad Max: Fury Road, The Revenant, Arrival, Dunkirk, mother!, Blade Runner 2049, Avengers: Infinity War, Parasite, Uncut Gems, 1917, Dune, Everything Everywhere All at Once, Top Gun: Maverick, Terminator 2: Judgment Day, The Shawshank Redemption, Gladiator, Little Miss Sunshine

overlap: 39

Alien, ET, Gremlins, Back to the Future, Top Gun, Aliens, Home Alone, Silence of the Lambs, Jurassic Park, Pulp Fiction, The Lion King, Scream, The Fifth Element, Titanic, The Truman Show, The Matrix, Magnolia, Spirited Away, Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, Kill Bill, Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, Kill Bill Vol. 2, Howl's Moving Castle, The Dark Knight, Inception, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, 21 Jump Street, Interstellar, Mad Max: Fury Road, Arrival, mother!, Blade Runner 2049, Avengers: Infinity War, Parasite, Uncut Gems, 1917, Dune, Everything Everywhere All at Once, Top Gun: Maverick

& their lowest rated movies...

dan: matrix resurrections (1) , thor: the dark world (1.5), the rise of skywalker (1.5)

phil: crimes of the future (1), attack of the clones (1.5), thor: the dark world (1.5), don’t look up (1.5), the matrix resurrections (1.5), doctor strange in the multiverse of madness (1.5), beau is afraid (1.5), black bear (1.5)

not even chris hemsworth could save thor the dark world, i guess (kat dennings, though…)

movies they logged on the same date:

note that this is like, non-exhaustive, because this is only based on their diaries that list the date. i think in reality they've watched most of these movies together. frequently dan logged a couple days after phil which aren’t shown here. procrastination queen

Pontypool, Eternals, The Northman, Nope, Barbarian, The Banshees of Inisherin, Glass Onion, The Super Mario Bros. Movie, Beau is Afraid, Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 3., Mission Impossible - Dead Reckoning Part One, Saltburn, Poor Things, Priscilla, Saw X, Leave the World Behind

movies that one logged and not the other:

dan but not phil: 85

The Exorcist, Stand by Me, The Grave of the Fireflies, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, Home Alone 2, Schindler's List, Fargo, Romeo & Juliet, Hercules, Men in Black, Neon Genesis Evangelion, The Mummy, The 13th Warrior, Fight Club, The Emperor's New Groove, Moulin Rouge, Shrek, Legally Blonde, Monsters, Inc, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, Scooby-Doo, 28 Days Later, Matrix Reloaded, Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl, School of Rock, Matrix Revolutions, Saw, Shaun of the Dead, Shrek 2, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Revenge of the Sith, The Devil Wears Prada, Borat, Casino Royale, No Country for Old Men, Death Proof, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, There Will Be Blood, Tropic Thunder, Slumdog Millionaire, Moon, District 9, Fantastic Mr. Fox, The King's Speech, We Need to Talk About Kevin, The Tree of Life, X-Men: First Class, Prometheus, Argo, Les Miserables, Django Unchained, World War Z, Pacific Rim, Under the Skin, 12 Years a Slave, American Hustle, The Babadook, The Lego Movie, x-Men: Days of Future Past, 22 Jump Street, Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, The Theory of Everything, Green Room, Sicario, Spotlight, The Big Short, 10 Cloverfield Lane, The Conjuring 2, Train to Busan, Hacksaw Ridge, Doctor Strange, Hidden Figures, Logan, You Were Never Really Here, Game Night, Isle of Dogs, First Man, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, Suspiria, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, Glass, Hustlers, Pig, Violent Night

phil but not dan: 86

Jaws, The Terminator, Beetlejuice, Die Hard, Terminator 2: Judgment Day, Groundhog Day, The Shawshank Redemption, Leon: The Professional, The Usual Suspects, The Frighteners, The Sixth Sense, Being John Malkovich, American Beauty, The Green Mile, Gladiator, Catch Me if You Can, Elf, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Little Miss Sunshine, Pan's Labyrinth, The Prestige, Zodiac, Spider-Man 3, Iron Man, Juno, Lake Mungo, Twilight, Zombieland, Kick-Ass, Brave, Evil Dead, The Great Gatsby, Now You See Me, Monsters University, Man of Steel, About Time, Dallas Buyers Club, Edge of Tomorrow, The Hunger Games: Mockingjay Part 1, The Hunger Games: Mockingjay Part 2, The Boy, Raw, Finding Dory, Suicide Squad, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, John Wick: Chapter 2, Lady Bird, The Ritual, Happy Death Day, Deadpool 2, Ocean's 8, Ant-Man and The Wasp, Bird Box, Booksmart, Crawl, Spider-Man: Far From Home, The Platform, Black Bear, Palm Springs, The Empty Man, The Innocents, Titane, Old, Free Guy, The Black Phone, Fresh, Watcher, Bodies Bodies Bodies, Ambulance, Aftersun, Crimes of the Future, Fall, Bones and All, The Menu, Sanctuary, Do Revenge, Smile, Hellraiser (2022), Mr. Harrigan's Phone, Plane, Missing, Infinity Pool, Past Lives, Knock at the Cabin, Scream VI

i’m interested to see how this varies by genre!

miscellaneous non-statistical things that made me parasocially emotional and/or laugh during this process:

they watched nope together on christmas eve 2022 <3

dan rated moulin rouge a 5 <3 nature boy <3

he also rated shrek a 5. of course. (valid).

4.5 from dan and 4 from phil from the notebook

5 from danny for brokeback mountain <3 and a 4.5 from philly

cmbyn, yes, has its issues, but dan rated 4.5 and phil 4

the shape of water got a 4.5 from monsterfucker phil lester (dan gave it a 4)

surprisingly phil rated rocketman higher than dan! surprising because dan liked so many musicals

dan gave hustlers a 3.5. i don't know why i think this is funny, but i do. phil doesn't have it logged or rated, lmao.

a 4 (d) and a 3.5 (p) for barbie!

phil gave twilight a 3. lol.

phil also gave do revenge only a 3.5. tragique.

phil watched a LOT of horror alone in october 2022 (aka while dan was on tour). anyway he's just like me <3

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♰ ₥ØĐɆⱤ₦ ĐɆ₥Ø₦₴ ♰

♰ Pairing: slasher!yunho x chubby!fem!slasher fucker!reader

♰ Genre: smut/dark romance/horror

♰ Summary: With a ruthless, brutal killer on the loose the safe thing to do would be to stay as far away from dangerous men as possible. But you've never been the kind of girl to play it safe and when danger comes in the form of a man like Yunho, how's a girl to stay away?

♰ Word Count: 3.4k-ish

♰ Warnings: Yunho's a literal serial killer, neither of you die but someone does, sorta vivid description of a limb being chopped off, voyeruism in a way, slasher fetish, sadism, masochism, dom daddy Yunho, choking, restriction of movement, a lil nipple play, penetrative sex, sex covered in blood, dirty talk, scratching, hickeys, other forms of marking, creampie, manhandling, pet names (baby, princess, good girl), you're both kinda psychos...obviously.

♰ A/N: I'd like to say, "Oh, I wrote this because Halloween is coming up!" but, no, I didn't. I'm just a slasher fucker, okay? A part of this was inspired by one of my favorite horror movies and if you can guess it then let's get married. Love you forever.

On a side note, thank you @dawn-iscozy for suggesting Yunho for this. I didn't regret that decision for a solitary minute.

There’s a killer on the loose. A brutal, wicked man who stalks the night preying upon unsuspecting victims. Some say he only goes after those he perceives as having done something wrong. His own perverse way of balancing the scales, righting the wrongs that the cops don’t have the balls to fix.

Others say it doesn’t matter who you are or what you do. Your chances of being butchered are all the same, sinner or saint. One thing’s for sure, once he has his sights set on you not even god himself can save you from the fate that awaits. You’re gone in the blink of an eye, never to be seen again. At least not in one piece. 

You’ve heard the warnings a thousand times over but none of them struck fear into your heart. On the contrary, you have quite the erotic fascination with his art as he calls it in the letters he leaves behind. There’s something about what he does that taps into a fetish for danger that you dare not tell another living soul about. You want to play with fire, scorch the tips of your fingers in his flames. That’s how you ended up here, straddling the lap of a man who claims to be the killer your sick little heart yearns for. 

You met at a club. The kind where people go to indulge their wildest fantasies, no matter how depraved. You were wandering around alone in a tight latex mini dress that fit the richness of your curves like a glove. You had your hair pinned up the way you do now, waterfalls of curls spilling down to frame your face. Expertly applied black lipstick adorned your kissable lips, drawing men in enough that they’d lose their minds thinking of all the things that pretty mouth could do. The man beneath you was among them. 

He spotted you from across the room, your figure bathed in red neon light as you sat at the bar plotting your next move. You let him buy you a few drinks, loosening you both up enough that secrets began to spill as freely as the vodka in your glass. “I wanna know if I tell you a secret, will you keep it?” the dark haired man whispered in your ear, a hand hovering dangerously close to your inner thigh. You swore that you would, hand over your heart. And that’s when he confessed. Your clear fascination with the man known as the Seoul Slasher had prompted him to reveal himself to you. 

You couldn’t believe it. A real live serial killer, an absolute monster, so hypnotized by you he was nearly drooling down your cleavage. Going against every self preservation tactic they taught you in school, you invited him back to your place for a bit of fun. An offer he excitedly accepted. For a man whose entire modus operandi is control, he was more than happy to relinquish it to you. In no time you had him spread out on your bed, arms and legs handcuffed to the bed frame. 

The entire room’s dark save for the flickering wicks of a few candles sprinkled about the room. You run a hand down his bare chest, sharp nails nicking at his tattooed flesh. He hisses at the sting, grinding his hips up against your core to add some pleasure to the pain.

You let out a giggle, fingers teasing the waist of his pants, “Tell me how you did it.” You flash your doe eyes, tightening your plush thighs around his hips. 

“How’d I do what?” he asks, far too preoccupied with your body to hone in on your words. 

“Those last two guys you killed. I wanna know every gory detail. You can tell me while I ride your cock.”

Your words certainly aren’t falling on deaf ears. He heard you loud and clear. He takes a calculated pause before providing you with a less than satisfying answer. “I used a butcher knife. Chopped them up real easy. Some of my best work I’d say.”

“Oh” you pout, shoulders dropping. You fold your arms across your chest, your disappointment hanging heavy in the air. “You really shouldn’t lie, you know? It’s a nasty habit.”

“Lie?” he scoffs, a nervous smile creeping across his face. His deception has failed and he doesn’t have enough brain cells to save this sinking ship. “I’m not lying, babe. I’m telling you. I used a butcher knife.”

You point an accusatory finger at him, applying pressure right between his eyes. “Dirty, dirty, liar” you sing, “You aren’t the Seoul Slasher.”

“And how would you know?” he asks, unjustly offended at the fact that you aren’t stupid enough to buy his bullshit. 

You lean in close, the warm flames of the candles reflecting in your eyes like hellfire. “Because I’m already fucking him and he’s not too happy about you going around pretending to be him. It’s just bad manners.” 

His smile grows more strained, his nervous laughter tickling the tip of your nose. He can’t tell if you’re serious or not but this is getting a little weird. Even for him. You watch him for a moment before erupting in soft, sweet laughter that mocks him. Reaching underneath your pillow you pull out a gag and shove it right into his mouth, shutting him up for the first time tonight. 

“Baby, I’m done playing now!” you call out like a housewife announcing that dinner’s ready. 

You sit back up, climbing off of him, and skip your way over to the dresser on the other side of the room. You hop up, feet giddily swinging back and forth to the tune of heavy footsteps descending the hallway. The man’s eyes dart over to the closed bedroom door, his heart thumping out of his chest. You can make out a few muffled protests but you dare not take it out. There’s nothing he can say that interests you now. Not that it ever did. 

When your best friend first told you that a guy at the club was going around claiming to be the Slasher, you couldn’t believe your ears. Especially not when the real one was sleeping peacefully beside you. Further investigation proved that your best friend had been telling the truth so he had to be dealt with. Then another popped up and another. This one will make for the 4th and you must admit, as annoying as identity theft is for your boyfriend, you get a kick out of luring them here. 

They always start out so cocky but once the gag’s in and those footsteps come, getting closer and closer at an agonizing pace, they’re not so confident anymore. At first they freeze up just like the corpse they’re soon to be. The shock does need a few seconds to set in. And then they panic, screaming through the gag and tugging at their bindings, their bodies writhing like a fish out of water. This one’s no different than the others. You can guess his next move like a film you’ve watched a dozen times and all of it’s in vain. 

Sweat slicks his brow as the door creaks open and your face lights up like the Fourth of July. You breathe a sigh of relief. There he is. You’ve only been apart for hours but it feels like an eternity. A tall figure steps out of the shadows into the candlelight, revealing a handsome man in tailored black pants and a black button up you pressed yourself. His sleeves are rolled up, tucked just below the elbow where a pair of long black latex gloves begin. He spares the unfortunate soul strapped to the bed a passing glance before approaching you. He leans forward, palms flat on the dresser, caging you in. 

“Did I do okay?” you question innocently, always hungry for the praise he never fails to feed you. 

Yunho nods, gloved fingers stroking your soft cheek, “Oh, my good girl. You did more than okay. What would I do without you?”

Taking your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, he tilts your head up, capturing your lips in a kiss that would soak your panties if you were wearing any. He takes a deep breath as he pulls away, not wanting to but knowing that time is of the essence.

“Did he touch you?” Yunho’s jaw tenses, gloved hands flexing to warm up for the night’s events. 

You peek around him to check in on the dark haired man. His face is wet with tears and he’s sobbing all over your new gag. You pray he hasn’t pissed himself. You’re not in the mood to have to buy a new mattress again.

You look back to your boyfriend and nod. “In the car he put his hand on my thigh.” 

“Thank you for telling me, baby,” Yunho says, kissing you on the forehead. He turns around, eyes darkening as he approaches the foot of the bed. “I’ll start with his hands.” 

Kneeling down, he slides a large case from underneath the bed and pops it open to reveal his tools. The spread is a pristine assortment of autopsy tools, not a lowly butcher knife in sight. He delicately runs his fingers over them, settling on the fine toothed bone saw. Your gaze never leaves him as he rounds the bed, aligning the sharp teeth of the saw with what you’ve come to know as the ulna. The bone right on his inner forearm. 

Yunho grinds the saw against it and the man’s arm tears open, tattered pieces of flesh splintering off to the side as he carves his way through tough tendons. Blood gushes from the man’s arm, drenching the brand new sheets in a river of crimson. Yunho’s movements are precise and purposeful. The saw taps bone as the body below him convulses violently, the pain beyond anything you can imagine or ever care to. 

Your boyfriend pauses, glancing over at you, and you know it’s about that time. You open one of the drawers beside you, fishing out your phone and a pair of over ear headphones. You sync them up, hitting play on your favorite song, and smile lovingly back at him.

He can’t be as brutal when he knows you’re listening. It’s one of few things about his profession he’s never quite been able to bring himself to expose you to. Even with the man’s cries muffled, being dismantled brings sounds out of someone that could give the most vile person nightmares. You can watch all you want but you won’t hear them.

It’d be easy to say that you weren’t like this before you met him. You were a sweet, delicate flower and this charming psychopath came along, corrupting your young soul. But a girl doesn’t get wet watching her boyfriend dismember people because she had her purity corrupted.

You were never innocent, you’d simply presented yourself as such. Yunho just freed you from the prison of feeling guilty about what got you off. Power. Not being at the mercy of anyone. Yunho treats you like a princess. You’re never left wanting for anything. Your every desire is satisfied. So what if your Prince Charming comes with a body count? Nobody’s perfect. 

Yunho makes quick work of the body. After the slice to his second arm the man’s already at death’s door and the severing of his knees puts the final nail in the coffin. Yunho tosses the body parts to the ground like the limbs of an old doll. Breathless and blood soaked as he licks splatters of scarlet from his lip, he goes in for another cut.

You’re the only other thing he looks at like he does his work. The excitement of the kill is borderline orgasmic, dopamine coursing through his veins with every gruesome cut. Once he starts he has to keep going, chasing his high until it’s finished and the body’s nothing more than scattered pieces of an impossible puzzle. 

Shoving the torso to the floor, he steps back to catch his breath, waving to get your attention. You slip your headphones off, setting them down to navigate the landmine of limbs and entrails to reach your love. 

“You need some water, Yunie?” you ask, throwing your arms around him. The blood weighing down his clothes sticks to your arms, cool against your skin. It used to feel a bit strange but after a few times you’ve come to find it refreshing like a cool shower on a hot day. 

Yunho shakes his head, a dazed look in his eyes. Usually the adrenaline begins to die down after that final cut but it’s only getting more intense. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he salivates over you like a man on the brink of starvation. “No, I need you. Right now.” 

His lips crash into yours at a thousand miles per hour and you don’t even attempt to stop him. Why would you? Bloody gloves cling to your dress, stripping you of the material. You rip his shirt open, sending buttons raining down onto the slippery hardwood floor. Yunho’s hands ravenously explore your body as you rid him of his pants, painting your plush figure in blood like a canvas. 

Attempting to feast upon your body through gloves is as close to torture as he’s ever come so he tears them off, groaning in delight as his bare hands sink into your pillowy ass. He picks you up, tossing you back on the bed, your breasts bouncing marvelously as you land.

You grin watching your boyfriend stare down at you like an absolute animal. His body’s everything dreams are made of, his flawless, rigid cock already leaking in anticipation. You spread your thighs, teasing him with the arousal dripping from your entrance. Bringing two fingers between your legs, you stroke them between your lips, spreading yourself open for him.

“You want it?” you moan, back arching as you pinch your sensitive clit. 

Yunho positions himself between your legs, palming his cock above a pussy that’s clenching wildly at the ghost of what could be. He places a hand on your thigh, admiring the view. You in a sea of blood toying with yourself for his pleasure. What a sight to behold.

“You aren’t teasing me are you?” he asks, gripping your thigh tighter. His voice is low and rough, feral in every way. 

You bring your slick fingers up to the head of his cock, coating it on your juices. “And what if I am?”

You motion to get up, your brain set on tasting his cock on your tongue, but Yunho’s quicker than you, grabbing your wrists and pinning your arms over your head. His free hand wraps around your neck, the veins of his arms pulsing as he applies the right amount of pressure to leave you breathless but not in pain. 

“Do you want it?” He bumps his cock against your slit, missing on purpose to drag it between your folds. Your body shudders as much as it can with his full weight on you. 

“Mmhmm” you hum, knowing he won’t hurt you but loving that you’re completely at his mercy. 

“You know that’s not enough, baby” he smiles, squeezing your throat tighter, “I need to hear it, princess. Tell me you want it. Beg for daddy’s cock.”

He presses his throbbing tip to your entrance but this time he arches into you, giving you the head and nothing more. The stretch of that alone is disorienting, a wave of heat rushing through you. Releasing his hold on  your throat, he brings his lips to yours, parting them to taste the desperate pleas that spill out. 

“I want you to fuck me, Yunie. I’m so needy for your cock. I have been all night” you whine and his tongue traces your lips. You taste delicious. He inches into you, feeding you a little more then stopping. A little more then stopping. And your body jumps with every motion, pitiful sounds pouring from your lips onto his. 

“Fuck me” you beg, an undeniable brokeness in your tone, “Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck…” Your voice trails off, eyes rolling back as he bottoms out. He lifts off of you, still holding your arms in place above your head, and thrusts into you ever so gently. You clamp down around him tightly enough that it’s hard to move, your pussy's too needy to let go. 

Yunho grins, cupping one of your breasts, “I didn’t know watching me kill got you so hot. You’re sick, you know that?” He pinches your nipple harshly and you squeal, twisting in his hold. 

“I know” you moan, blowing him a kiss, “But so are you.”

“Fuck, I love you” he growls, pulling you under with another dizzying kiss.

His thrusts grow harsher, your warm, spongy walls drawing him in impossibly deeper. His fingers knead the tender flesh of your breast as he brings his tongue down to soak your bud in equal parts blood and spit. Taking the bud between his teeth, he wraps his lip around it, suckling at it without losing his rhythm between your legs. 

“Yunie. So good. So, mmph, aah…” you’re moaning but he gives one particularly hard thrust to your cunt, knocking the words right out of your mouth. 

You want to touch him so badly. To dig your nails into his back while he fucks into you. To run your fingers through his hair, tugging at the deep brown strands as his tongue swirls around your bud.

“Touch” you pout, wiggling your hands. 

Yunho pops your bud free of his lips, licking his way up your breasts, across your heated skin, along your neck, until you’re eye to eye. “Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“Wanna touch you. Please, daddy” you plead. You’re so helpless. So beautiful.

Yunho watches you squirm, feigning indecision. After an agonizingly long contemplation, he turns your arms loose, the redness on your wrists marking where he held you. Your hands are drawn to him like magnets, scouring every inch of him they can reach just to feel him.

Your nails find his back, digging into the flesh. Yunho buries his face in your neck, moaning at the sensation. “Harder” he whispers, fingers knotting in the sheets beneath you. You dig your nails in deeper, breaking skin, and he’s on the edge of a whimper, the sensation nearly too much for him. 

Slipping an arm around your back, he keeps you flush against him, sinking into you over and over. Your mouth falls open, eyes squeezed closed. You’re saying something but nothing’s coming out. Only whines and moans, the occasional fractured piece of his name.

There’s no bracing yourself for a cock this long and thick. You just have to take it, let it destroy every bit of you until there’s nothing left. A sense of euphoria surges through you and your legs instinctively lock around his waist. 

“That’s it” he coos, fawning over the string of hickeys he’s left on your neck, “Be a good girl and cum for me.” Yunho grabs for your wrists one last time, locking them above your head. He pounds into you so hard the bed creaks, maybe even moves a few inches. “I wanna feel you gushing around this cock.”

Suddenly your breath hitches and your body feels weightless. It’s as if you’re floating above yourself. Watching this gorgeous man fuck you into the mattress like his own personal whore. And you are. You’re more than happy to be. Your senses come back to you in a rush of ecstasy and you’re trembling, crying out as you do exactly as he said. Creaming, gushing, dripping down his length. 

Yunho pulls back, kneeling between your legs to drag his cock out and glide it back in. He goes all starry eyed at the sight of his cock glistening in your cum and soon he’s spilling inside of you. Your needy walls milking his cock of the warm, white liquid that overflows from your delicious pussy.

His hand comes down on your plush belly, enjoying its softness as he feeds you those last few strokes. You’re still moaning weakly when he finishes, laying back on the bed and pulling you on top of him. 

Curled up safe and warm in his arms, you bask in the afterglow, thoughts of the man your boyfriend dismantled little more than a distant thought now. But ultimately it’s difficult to ignore. Especially when your eyes drift up and you notice something dangling in the corner of your eye. 

“Yunie” you say, lightly petting his shoulder. 

Yunho strokes your hair, looking down at you lovingly, “Yes, baby?”

“I think his hand’s still attached to the handcuff.”