#twisted wonderland dark content

[cvlutos]

“Hell Fire”

| Repost: 01.12.23 | 1.5 K | Mature |

Rollo Flamm X GN!Reader x Malleus Draconia

| Dark Content | Spying [Voyuer] | Sexual Themes | Etc. | Proceed with Caution, Dearest. |

T.Manor.Notes: The idea was from my lovely, @elenamegan14

“Tell me, how does someone like you? End up in a place such as NRC?”

The flames of the fire flicker and wave as you sit in front of them. Watching the red and orange flames dance freely. He stands behind you, the shoes of his heels clicking against the stone flooring as he nears you. You ignore him, your fingertips messing with the sheer fabric of your masquerade outfit, your mask placed aside. Over the crack of fire, you can hear the orchestra play.

“I do not take kindly to being ignored.” His icy hands touch the flesh of your cheek, searing you so that you automatically flinch. Yet he doesn’t let you crawl away, pulling you into his chest, shushing you as if you were a wild animal. “Shhh… I’m not going to hurt you…” His voice is hot against the shell of your air, attempting to lure you into false safety.

“I truly just want an answer. What makes you so special?” His hands move, forcing your face forward, forcing you to stare into the flickering flames as if they spoke in hushed whispers. Before stilling completely at the sound of the heavy wooden door being knocked upon.

“Answer.” His voice is quiet and threatening. He shouldn’t be here and he knows that. Your lips quiver as you speak, your voice cracking.

“… Yes?”

“Prince Malleus asks for you.” The voice of a guard. His grip on your tightens, a low ill-intended chuckle vibrating through his throat. “Tell him you’re on your way.” His voice is filled with amusement, squeezing your cheeks painfully.

“… Oh.. Tell him I'll be on my way…”

“Alright.” The room falls silent as the sound of heavy steps moves away from the door. The man drops you, standing up on his feet, watching you lay helplessly. “I do hope we can speak again.” He leans down, sliding the thin blue sparkly sheer scarf from your form, wrapping it around his hand, and exiting the room just as silently as he came.

Your gazes move up to the flames, slowly sitting up, and exhaling. You bring yourself up to your feet, adjusting your clothing, your hands sliding over the place where your scarf once was. You simply have to make do without it. You grab your mask, placing it on your face, grabbing the water bucket, placed in the corner of the room.

Putting out the flames.

══════ ♡ ══════

The Masquerade ball is lively.

Malleus’ hand gripping yours intently, leading you through the crowd. “You seem worried.” His voice snaps you from your thoughts, turning your gaze towards him and not the various masked faces. “I’m fine.” Your voice is curt and you can tell he looks worried behind his mask, moving to where both his hands hold yours.

“You can tell me anything. If something worries—”

“I’m fine. Malleus. I promise.” You pat his hands, though you know he doesn’t believe you as his hold on your hands tightens. Malleus looks over you, before landing on your waist, his eyes slightly darkening, brows furrowing. “The blue scarf. It’s missing.” Your stomach drops as he locks eyes with you, taking a step closer.

“Malleus—”

“I do hope that I am not interrupting.” Turquoise grayish eyes stare at the scene before him, watching the way yours widen and Malleus’ eyes seem to almost glow in disdain. “Monsieur Flamm, not at all. [Name]’s scarf is simply missing.” Malleus speaks, and Rollo tilts his head. Mocking concern, glancing at you for a millisecond. “I could possibly be able to help. If you were to, perhaps describe it to me.”

You open your mouth, stepping forward in panic before Malleus pulls you back to his side. Snaking an arm around your waist. “Blue and sheer.” His words are curt and venomous. Raising goosebumps on your skin.

He thinks to himself, his eyes seeming to brighten up as he looks at you. Pulling from his pocket, he reveals the scarf. Though it’s different, not the one you wore before. Malleus without hesitation, before Rollo steps back. “Ah. Ah. Ah. A good deed shan’t go unrewarded. It’s unfair. And you are everything but.”

“It is a scarf—”

“A dance! Yes. Thank you, I’m just so clumsy. But a dance, is that okay?” You cut Malleus off with faux excitement, ripping from his grip and taking the scarf from the noble bell college student, wrapping it around your waist and tying it sloppily.

“A dance. It shall suffice.” Rollo takes your hands within his own, pulling you towards the ballroom floor, leaving Malleus standing stiff as a statue. Rollo pulls you into his embrace, one arm wrapping around your waist, the other holding your hand.

“So eager to dance.” He speaks slowly as the music starts and you both begin to dance.

“Why do you keep bothering me?”

“I simply wish to know you. Is that a crime?”

“If it includes you stealing, spying, breaking into my room, being a headache. I could go on.” Your voice is firm and agitated, squeezing his hand to show your resentment, which only brings an amused chuckle.

“Ce n’est que le début. Bien d’autres choses vous attendent. Be overjoyed that I haven’t done worse. Wouldn’t wish to make your dragon further upset. That’d be a big dilemma for you to alleviate.” His voice has a dangerous edge, silencing you as he pulls you impossibly close. You twirl and dance around the ballroom, silent as a mouse. Saying nothing to the man you dance with.

“Tell me. Have you figured out an answer to my question?” The music ends, and yet he doesn’t relinquish his grip. Speaking into your ear, his gaze locked onto a glowering dragon.

“I ended up at NRC. Like anyone else. The mirror called me.” Rollo seems satisfied, taking a step back, his gaze moving down to your scarf, tugging at the fabric, making it tighter around your waist. You hear thunder crackle.

“Do your best not to lose it repeatedly. Many would do well to not return it and instead keep it, for such—” He pauses, his hands rising to pinch your cheek, his eyes swirling with something lustful. “Unsavory acts.” He steps back, his amused grin replacing with something smaller, almost unnoticeable.

“Enjoy the rest of the night. If you so desire another dance, do find me.” He leaves with a curt bow. Before you can turn around, you sense Malleus’ towering stature. He undoes the scarf, holding it in his hands as he watches Rollo disappear before finally speaking.

“Stay away from him for the rest of the night.”

He scorches the scarf to ash.

══════ ♡ ══════

Rollo Flamm pities you.

Feeble you. Soiled by the impurities of Night Raven College, tarnished by dirty hands of the several unruly dorms. He leans against the velvet of the couch of his study, a glass wine glass in hand, swirling crimson red wine. The clothing from the masquerade stripped aside, dressed in something more comfortable.

The original scarf he had taken from you, hanging delicately off his desk armchair. He rises from his seat, humming a melody from long ago, reaching his desk. Papers scattered across, each were reports about you. Anything that he could get his hands on.

He glances from his desk and out the large windows of his study. The light of the room in which you were staying was on. Showing your outline, you were changing. A soft sigh rolls off his tongue, placing the glass down, and sliding into his chair, wrapping the scarf around his neck and over his nose. Slowly inhaling.

He watches you calmly. It was like you were dancing. As if you danced from him. He hums, tilting his head to the side, feeling drowsiness take over. Almost lulling him to sleep, with the dull buzz of wine. Until a noticeable figure joins you. The prince of Briar Valley. Pressing you against his form, your silhouette merging into one as he furiously kisses you.

Rollo’s eyes widen, his breath becoming trapped in his throat. He clenches the scarf in hand, watching the intense scene unfold before him. You don’t attempt to push him away but pull him closer. He can’t tear his eyes away, his pants growing tight. He runs a hand through his hair. Tugging at his waistband and swallowing thickly.

The fires crackle wildly and dangerously, speaking and mocking the man who sits at his desk. His eyes glued to the shadow scene before him, as if a magician had cast a spell. Cum soiling the sheer scarf, his cock twitching in the warm air. As the man leans back in his chair, watching the shifting and molding of your bodies making love, chest heaving.

He nearly jumps from his seat, as if emerald green eyes peered at him, fully capable of seeing him and the shameful actions he committed.

Taunting his treasure. Rollo Flamm makes a vow.

He will have you one day. A sinful man like him will pull and pick at every fiber of your being. And you will love him.

Mais si vous choisissez de le renier et de vous enfuir, il prendra une allumette et brûlera tout le NRC.

Until the day he captures you.

ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.

[inkblot22]

What's Worse?

I finally finished this. This unpostable thing. It's done and even if it's bad, I do not care. In the end, it ended up being 4k words and I'm okay with this. Header by @/cafekitsune

Who is this fic for? I tried to keep this one very neutral despite the many references to body parts, so anyone who can handle it is free to read! Keep in mind that pronouns such as you and they are used to refer to the reader. The reader is human and does have hair.

TW for coercion, noncon, dubcon, allusions to a physically and emotionally abusive dynamic, captivity, everyone is at least a little bit untrustworthy in this, mentions of the smell of blood, beastman-specific oddities and anatomy, violent and morbid similes. Just in case, I'd like to say that this is DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT. A lot of the stuff is more so implied than explicitly stated, but it's still there.

The day he moved up a grade and began his “internship” is the same day he took you with him. Sure, Grim came along, but you’re often so busy, or he’s often so busy, either way. So you haven’t seen your familiar in months, and your life is filled with Leona.

You don’t know why he did this, but the first night you were there, he tapped your uvula with his fingers as he orally serviced you so feverishly that you left teeth indent bruises on his knuckles from biting down so hard as you tried not to be loud. He wore them like jewelry, and you know his brother saw them. Everyone at the table knew what happened, because, according to Leona, no matter how often you shower, the way you smell will always give you away.

That was a little over six months ago. As far as captivity goes, it’s rather cushy. You stay within the confines of the Afterglow Savannah’s palace. Sometimes Leona gets a bit aggressive and you take it, but you’re fed, clothed, and possibly pampered. It could be worse. It could be far worse. You could be in the dungeons. 

You actually don’t know if this place has a dungeon, come to think of it. The last time you asked Leona, he asked you if there was an issue with the room you shared with him. When you tried to explain why you asked, he called you a “dumb herbivore” in a very fond tone of voice, then fell asleep. You didn’t try asking again.

It didn’t stop you from wandering. As it turns out, the Afterglow is mostly populated by beastmen… beastpeople? Aren’t all people beasts? Whatever, the point is, you’re basically the only person in the palace with muted senses. You often think back to Rook, wondering how he trained himself to use his senses so well. You tried to practice once, but Leona caught you hiding a  ball and chucked the thing out the window, telling you to find something better to do with your “skills.” You sure used one of your senses, at least.

Unfortunately, these “muted” senses, despite them being completely sensible for your human state of being, have led to some issues. For instance, when someone approaches you, you don’t notice until they’re within your field of awareness. Beyond that, according to Leona, Farena, Cheka, and Farena’s wife, you also tend to just reek of blood.

You have no idea why, and you’ve never noticed this before. You get out of the shower, having scrubbed hard enough to rid yourself of any dirt but not enough to create micro-abrasions on your skin, and Leona still complains about it. You play fight with Cheka, gentle enough that neither of you gets harmed and he’s giggly, and he pauses his mirth and wrinkles his little nose before asking if you got hurt. Zuri, Farena’s wife, regularly would stop you whenever she saw you, her eyes wide as she asked you if everything was okay. The palace staff didn’t say anything, but they’d constantly be re-filling your first-aid kit, one that was “gifted” to you and one that the staff and Kifaji (despite him being human like you, or maybe just not obviously a beastman) insisted that you carry at all times.

But out of all of them, Farena was the worst. If you were in Cheka’s nursery, even just seconds after the kid fell asleep, Farena would pop out of nowhere. If you lingered a bit too long in the kitchen or hallways, anywhere too far from Leona’s wing, he’d approach with a smile, his arms spread wide. If you came to the dining hall without Leona’ his glowing brown eyes would find you, the intensity akin to a sudden knife wound. His persistence in being around you was all blanketed by his uncomfortable implications when he spoke to you.

Even so, you happened to somehow get lost. The hallways are sort of color-coded, but you’ve passed this same hallway several times, enough for you to be okay with admitting that you’ve been walking in a circle for the past twenty minutes. And, much like the devil, as soon as you thought that if you were there any longer, a certain lion-man would appear, Farena popped up and scooped you into a hearty hug as greeting, your feet coming off the floor.

“Leona’s partner!” He never calls you by name. It’s always just that. You are Leona’s partner, not your own person, you guess, “I knew I’d find you eventually.”

“Yes. Hello, your highness.” You wheezed as he placed you back on the floor.

“Oh, you’re so prickly, just like my baby brother. You two are a perfect match- he does like a bit of bite.”

You rarely knew how to respond to him, so you often didn’t. You just stared at him, like a total moron, but he continued talking like you aren’t giving him the most anserine of looks- a word he has used to describe you before, basically to your face.

“I’ve heard that you forgot your first aid kit. We don’t need you tripping and scratching yourself on Leona’s dresser again, and not with an inability to heal yourself.” He never gave you time to answer, “Of course, I know you aren’t magic, but those of you without it have made some wonderful inventions to make up for that.”

“Oh. Yeah, I just left for, like, two seconds so I could return something to the kitchen.”

He nodded, thoughtful, still smiling, “Well, did you hit your head? You’ve been walking in a circle, and you didn’t even stop to say hi to me.”

“No. I, uh.” You cast your gaze down the hallway closest to you, then looked back at Farena, “I am a bit lost. I guess someone else is usually with me when I’m wandering around.”

Leona is not the only person in his family with a cunning streak. You are marginally aware of this, and when Farena’s eyes narrowed, you sucked in a breath.

“Hmm. You’re right, Leona’s partner. It is rather strange not to see you by my baby brother’s side.”

It struck you multiple times in the past that the amount of times you bumped into Farena couldn’t possibly be a coincidence. He’s a king, so why was he never ruling or whatever kings did all day? It was incredibly strange, and you made the same subtle discomforted motions like clockwork. He usually pretended not to notice whatsoever.

His grin was always too bright. You did prefer Leona’s smirk, “Very well. It looks like I’ll need to escort you back to Leona’s quarters, won’t I?”

“Uh. I mean, if you’re not busy.”

“You’re such a mousy thing. Come,” He offered you his arm.

You took it, and true to his word, he led you back to Leona’s wing, then straight up to the door. He knocked, and you ducked out of his arm to cautiously open the door. Leona strolled out of the bathroom, hair and skin wet, his eyes not even skimming over you before they flashed to his brother, who strolled in as though he owned the place. Maybe he did. Who owns a palace if not the king?

“Ah, Leona! I found your partner, wandering the halls like a lost lamb.”

As soon as the words process in Leona’s mind, his green eyes are sliding to pin you down. Your limbs feel like lead, and you don’t move or emote, lest he strike. He’s like a snake when he’s like this, which is ironic. Perhaps it’s not ironic, and just comedic. Who knows?

Regardless, Farena keeps talking, “And I missed you at lunch! What a shame. They had your favorite, you know. Meat! And lots of it. Don’t you ever get hungry, being in here all the time?”

If not for everyone talking about the way your skin smells, that comment could have been written off entirely. It didn’t feel great, being indirectly told that you smell like fresh meat, and Leona wasn’t helping much.

“Mmm. No. I don’t like my meat that rare.” Leona grumbles, taking a seat on his bed and waving you over. “Hey, c’mere and braid my hair.”

What was worse? Being told you smell delicious or being told you didn’t smell delicious enough? It was one of those things. You cautiously tied off his braids, capping both of them in beads that Cheka had gifted you. His hair was wet, clinging to his skin as desperately as the water did. You caught yourself watching a drop sliding over Leona’s tattoo and hummed softly. 

Farena was still talking. You didn’t hear the beginning, and you didn’t care about the end, so you completely tuned him out so you could finger detangle the rest of Leona’s wet hair. While you were ignoring Farena, you were pointedly all too aware of Leona’s sounds of pleasure. It took you a while to get used to it. You were a primate, and he was a lion. More lion than ape. He snorted and rumbled, huffed and chuffed, his face twisted in a scowl. 

“Ah, what a shame. I’ll have to speak to you later, Leona. Perhaps you could talk about those plans with Zuri. I’m sure she’d love to listen.” You tuned back in as Farena turned to the door, opening it before remembering himself and waving at you, “Bye bye, Leona’s partner!”

When he was gone, almost as soon as the door was closed, Leona twisted his torso to grab you around the waist and pull you into one of his kisses. You read somewhere that the reason men kiss so… wetly is so they can mark their partner. It makes more sense if they just didn’t want to kiss with dry lips, but you’re no kissing expert. Leona is not an exception to this, you supposed. He always licked his lips before pressing them against yours, slicked with his saliva and often accompanied by a quiet, barely perceptible growl. 

His kisses were dizzying. Possibly because it was difficult to breathe while kissing someone, and possibly because you were usually held in a crushing vice whenever he kissed you. Your poor ribcage had been squeezed many times. 

And just as soon as it started, he dropped you unceremoniously and stood up, walking past your sprawled body on his floor, “We’ve got some big dinner to get to. Get dressed.”

You scrambled to your feet, “Big dinner?”

“Mhm. It’s some official’s birthday. I can’t be bothered to remember who.”

That made enough sense. In the time you’d been here, you’d learned pretty quickly that it wasn’t exactly worth it to go out of your way to be remembered positively by everyone, especially not since you were… with Leona. In all the time you’d been here, you’d never been sure about what the nature of your relationship with him was, either. Asking would get you some kind of snarky or irritated answer, and not asking but thinking about it made it hard to focus on anything else, so you didn’t think about it.

“Oh. You see Grim today?” You asked while getting dressed in your own green and black dashiki, like a couple’s outfit in the matching pattern of Leona’s.

Like he always did, he stared for a moment before making a few small adjustments. It was funny, he couldn’t be bothered to care about his own appearance, and yet, when it came to you…

“Yeah, He’s good. Still working on the mage stuff.”

“Mmm. Okay. Thanks.” You mumbled, lifting your arms so Leona could look you over again, “What?”

“You stink like my brother. If we had time, I’d fix that, but…”

“What does he smell like?”

“Shouldn’t you be asking what I smell like?” He snapped, and you flinched. Sometimes his irritation came with physical indications, but heavier than the physical indications was the energy around him, “Forget it. Stay close to me tonight.”

You usually did. You hated parties here, but more than the parties themselves, you hated the strangers who came up to you and just said whatever. Last time, someone approached you and asked how big Leona’s wallet was for you to stick around. You’re learning to like nobility less, not that you particularly liked them before..

You’re tucked against Leona’s back for the entirety of the evening. He’s like a ward. People see him and walk the opposite direction unless they’re drunk or stupid, and those types are in short supply at the beginning of the night. Unfortunately, by the middle of the night, amongst sips of his drinks and nibbles of various finger foods, you felt exhausted and Leona was straight up pissed.

You wondered why for a bit too long. You barely even realized when you ended up back in his room, outside on his balcony. He was stewing, pouting like a toddler. You unstuck yourself from his side and sat in one of the chairs.

“Mmm.” He grumbled. He often did this, putting a noise to his emotion, but no words to explain himself. You’d wised up and figured out early on that it was best not to approach him for this type of thing, “Hey, runt.”

Uh oh. He tended to use that nickname before he did something foul to you. You squirmed in your chair and flinched as he turned around and yanked his shirt over his head. His pants went next. Leona didn’t bother with underwear.

“C’mere. What are you hidin’ in the corner for?” He mumbles, “We’ve got time now.”

Your uh oh gets multiplied. It’s not that you aren’t attracted to Leona, or that you’re not in the mood. It’s not that you’re terrified of him, not that you’re confused by his awkward libido. It’s that you honestly don’t know what he sees in you, sprinkled with a bit of relationship insecurity. You’re here because of him, you and Grim have a home because of him, but what’s going to happen when he gets bored with you? 

He looks over his shoulder at you sharply, “What the hell are you doin’? I said c’mere.”

You swallowed and took a few steps forward, stripping as you walked. The night air makes your skin tingle with goosebumps, your nipples hardening and a shiver rattling through you. It’s a very strong possibility that these feelings have beset you based only on the fact that someone could look up from Zuri’s garden and see you and Leona, both naked on his balcony.

 When you’re standing in front of him, he just stares, one of his hands ever so gently stroking himself. You think it’s funny, the phrase “playing with yourself,” because that is what it is. His fingers softly paw at his heavy balls, gliding up the base of his shaft to tweak the head of his cock under his foreskin. He doesn’t break his gaze on you to look at himself. The hand that is not busy with himself reaches out to grab your waist, just above the start of your hip, and yank you closer.

He’s not gentle. Not really. You know he has the capacity to be gentle, but he doesn’t really seem to care. In the past, when you’ve pleaded with him to be gentle, he’s told you that he would treat you like glass if he thought you were made of it, but since he’s seen you suffer worse (what is worse?) he doesn’t see the point in bothering. That doesn’t change the fact that his touch often hurts. Now is not an exception, and you make your displeasure clear with a soft noise of discomfort.

“Shhh. You wanna tell me what happened earlier?” Leona mumbles, pressing his face against the skin on your stomach, taking a deep breath and letting out a sigh.

You absolutely hate it when he smells you like this, but that’s not important right now, “Wh-what?”

“With Farena. You looked freaked out.” Leona ever so lightly kisses the pit of your bellybutton, “He do anything to you?”

You’re not a fan of Leona acting like this. While it seems like he cares, you know from past experience that he’s typically, if not always, on the brink of a jealous meltdown. His jealous meltdowns almost always end with you sitting alone in the bathroom, tending to your own wounds as he sleeps like a kid who just threw a tantrum. So you decide to give a simple answer before distracting him, at least for a moment.

You scratch the nape of his neck, since he doesn’t like you touching his ears, “He was just his usual off-putting self. Nothing else.”

Leona grunts and looks up at you, so you take your chance. You lean down, sitting on your knees, and press a mock-reverent kiss to Leona’s thigh. He’s surprisingly hairless, for someone who is more lion than ape. You suppose the same could be said for yourself, as someone who is more ape than lion. 

Leona’s unimpressed face slants into a smirk, and his hand that was previously fondling his genitals slides to cup your cheek, fingertips rubbing behind your ear.

Now that it’s right in front of your face, you wish that you hadn’t decided that this was the best option for distraction. You think maybe anything would be better than catching those barbs in the back of your throat. The little softly-curved nubs circling the base of the head of Leona’s cock flare out a bit, resembling one of those Elizabethan ruffs, tattered by the passage of time and reduced to the skeleton. They aren’t sharp, not truly, but they’re uncomfortable, especially when you forget that the more worked up Leona gets, the further they poke out and the harsher they feel. It’s similar to someone’s very carefully blunted fingernail and fingertip rubbing against your cheeks.

You try to suck up your carefully hidden disgust and press a soft kiss to the very tip of Leona’s dick, wetting your lips with his salty pre. Surprisingly, he doesn’t taste bad. You would think that his skin, his cum, would taste bitter and harsh, but it’s not the worst thing you’ve ever tasted. Perhaps that’s a silver lining in this wicked situation.

Regardless, a quiet grumble from him makes you snap back into the reality of where you are, and you figure you may as well get to work. You slide your lips down to his base, wincing as the spongy head of his member punches the back of your throat and his hand slides back to grip your nape.

“You trying to bore me to death, runt? You know I hate this teasing shit.”

That’s right. He absolutely loathes it. You bob your head a little more expeditiously, trying to ignore the slick mixture of drool and pre that is escaping from the corners of your lips and the ever-increasing strength of Leona’s thrusts against your face.

Despite your senses being the most dull in the palace, you can sort of hear the festivities downstairs, and Leona chuckles, standing with your head still cradled in his hand so he can actually start thrusting. It always begins with you trying to set a gentle pace and it always quickly dissolves into chaos. He’s lazy, but if he’s anything more than lazy, it’s a shameless pleasure chaser. You would think that you would have learned by now.

“You can’t hear them. They’re not at all concerned with me, they’re wondering where you went off to. But everyone knows that you belong to me, so they should know that you’re with me.” Leona mumbles. 

You gag, his dickhead wetly popping against the back of your throat as the fluids in your mouth froth with the speed of his motions, gooey trails roping down to cling to your cheeks and collarbones, connecting to Leona’s shifting hips. At least he doesn’t stink today.

A bug lands on your shoulder and flits away as you choke on Leona as he shoves his cock down your throat. Maybe you should feel a bit more grateful that this is happening partially outside, and that way you can have constant reminders that you’re still alive and not in some form of purgatory, serving time for your very minor moments of humanity when you were alive. 

Leona snarls, “You’re just so cute, with those lips wrapped around me. I wonder if my brother would keep flirting with you if he knew that you were like this in private.”

The implications of that statement are absolutely lost on you. You’re aware that Leona knows how you feel about your current life to a degree, but he doesn’t give a damn about your emotions. Whatever he’s talking about is absolutely just him babbling out some sex-addled nonsense. As the barbs scrape against your uvula, you gag and try to push his hips away so you can catch your breath for a second.

He doesn’t let up. Sweat is sliding over his skin, beading into crystal pearls and sliding down to flavor the skin in your mouth with their salt. If you don’t puke from his roughness, you’re going to puke from ingesting so much sodium. His smirk grows and his fingers massage the base of your head as if he isn’t pounding into your throat.

“Aw… too much? Maybe if you were a bit more active, I’d be done a bit sooner.” He coos.

You don’t fully hate Leona. He has given you somewhere to stay, food to eat, clothes to wear, for both you and Grim, but whenever he gets like this, taunting you even though he’s using you like a cheap sleeve, you feel an indescribable, hopeless anger. Regardless, you bring one of your hands up to the copious amounts of drool and pre and sweat that are covering your skin, collecting the goop on your fingers. You cup his ass with your non-gooey hand and spread that cheek, plunging a finger into his asshole and aimlessly crooking your finger.

His hips spasm, his hand fists into your hair and he lets out a low grumble, “Rrr.”

You slowly ease your other gooey finger into his ass and hope that he will cum soon so you can catch your breath. You need a shower, and he’s probably going to just go to bed after this. You’re more tired than he is, and you’re actually beginning to think that you both might be a bit tipsy. You need this to end, and you need it to end soon.

Your prayers are answered. You feel his cock bob in the back of your throat, the glans tapping that soft spot that makes you feel it in the back of your nose, and he yanks your head back, your lips releasing him with a somewhat loud pop.

His cum is hotter than it has any right being. You suppose since he runs hot, it’s not that shocking, but you’re also aware that the whole reason that the balls are not an internal thing is because the human body is way too hot for sperm to live for long periods of time inside of the body. This information is irrelevant, however, because Leona has just made the mess on your skin that much worse. You sigh as he lets go of you, flopping back into his chair and gesturing to his cock again.

“Can you clean me up before you go running off?”

You’d love to tell him no, to ask him to shove it, but you grunt your acquiescence and tongue-clean his messy skin, as if you aren’t covered in more slime than he is. Once done, you stand up and gather your clothes, placing them in the laundry bin in the bathroom and getting in the shower.

You scrub a little harder than usual, but not hard enough to break skin, not even enough to create micro-abrasions. Once out, you throw on one of Leona’s gaudy yellow tees and take a seat on the bed. He’s already curled up under the covers, but the soft tapping of his tail lets you know that he isn’t sleeping. You slide under the covers yourself and Leona rolls over, pulling your back into his chest.

“Hey.” He mumbles into your hair, “You stink like a fresh kill.”

What’s worse? Smelling like blood in a den of predators or being in the den of predators to begin with?

[kurimiaki]

Without a name, things tend to get lost. [III]

Heartslabyul’s terms of endearment

Octavinelle’s set is here!

Content warning: dark content, toxic relationships, manipulation, verbal and physical abuse, forced intimacy

Riddle Rosehearts

By his word, Riddle truly had tried to remain amicable and open-minded for this date.

Too-rigid, too-coddling, too-stuck for time, too-unbending. You had tried to impress upon him the importance of fluidity, fun for fun’s sake, and a sense of ease which he has yet to fully feel on these types of romantic excursions. It’s difficult to entirely will himself away from ironclad routine and tradition, the dating guides he poured himself over in the library, what to do and what to avoid, the formulaic manner in which he wants to pursue your hand.

It’s all in the effort to satisfy you. To guarantee your partnership, commitment, and adoration. But it’s a hearty struggle for Riddle to live easily— rules are foolproof and unshakable, and shan’t allow his unease and insecurity to slip through the cracks. The fluid, lackadaisical attitude you wish him to assume certainly will, though.

He’d suggested a scarcely-populated and unfrequented cafe for a reason, and you’d vetoed his vote without care, adamant on lugging him over to some sleek new burger shop that recently opened on Sage’s Island, flush with people.

People he’d wanted to avoid, for fear of them robbing him of your attention. The things he’d wanted to speak about were overshadowed by your gushing over inconsequential things— the quirkily named menu items, their gargantuan milkshakes, that girl’s crazy boots, and, hey, was that an RSA student? Menial things, of no conversational value, void of substance. Things that deviated too far from his idealized date, that left him unsure and output. He had complacently nodded along, feigned a smile, and chewed up as much of his order as he could manage; but of course, change takes time to adapt to, and Riddle was less than content.

On your way back to campus, following along an isolated path cloaked in brushes and weeping willows, you become familiar with the consequences of pushing your boyfriend too far. Your takeout bag strewn about graveled ground, slushed and ruined strawberry milkshake soaking into dirt mounds and rocks, Riddle goes as far as to stomp down on the remains of your burger. “Was that fun for you, darling?” He jabs, emphasizing the last bit with a sneer, digging a finger hard on your sternum. You gape, grappling as to what could’ve spurred on such a drastic shift in his mood, but Riddle speaks for you.

“You’re a selfish little thing, aren’t you? You don’t think. Not about my preferences, my plans. Being seen fraternizing with you in public— alone, mind you— was a giant leap on its own. A risk.”

“I do try to be lenient, my dear, but all you do is take. You’ve even monopolized my time. See?” He lifts his wrist, removing his other hand from your sternum and unsheathing his casual dress shirt, showing you a watch. He taps the glass two times, clinking it with his fingernail, and sneers at you; so out of sorts, one might think you’d cussed out his mother. You open your mouth, the beginnings of a ‘how was I supposed to know that’ lingering on your lips, but he grasps your shirt collar and drags you down to him.

“If you’re so keen to make this relationship work, do right by me. Listen. That’s all I ask, darling.”

Riddle is not well-suited to the use of cheesy nicknames. Even something as benign as ‘my dear’ has the potential to throw him off kilter for his foreseeable future, utterly wrought with embarrassment and fear of coming on too strong. At his calmest, you’re not likely to receive an affectionate endearment from him— it’s much too unbecoming for a dorm leader to openly show favor like that, anyway. His inexperience is ultimately covered by the claim of ‘not wanting to be a biased ruler,’ which, quite blatantly, is an ineffective lie. To his credit, Riddle does try to be sweet on you. He has repeatedly practiced utilizing the name ‘darling’ in the isolated comfort of his dorm room, though he often finds himself flustered when merely conversing with a pillow.

But he’s fully in his element when buzzing with rage, isn’t he? He may not be the most articulate, gurgling and stomping around like a fussy toddler, threatening you with shattered teacups and sullying your dorm room with his tantrum: but he is free of inhibition and shame. Riddle will scream at you for allowing your grades to slip (it’s a burden to monitor you, you know, but he loves you well enough to take the task), but at least his blow is softened with the use of darling— albeit weaponized as a taunt, lilted and demeaning. In his furious blowouts, he’ll often take pause to berate you as if you were a fussy child yourself, cooing and verbally stooping to your (lower, in his distorted image) level, asking ‘do you understand that well enough, my dear?’ when your only transgression is running five minutes behind his predetermined schedule.

Riddle strictly calls you: darling, my dear. These are the only endearments he’s familiar with; he hasn’t been exposed to romantic media in the same way Ace has, for reference, and isn’t well-versed with what’s on trend to call one’s lover.

Trey Clover

“And now he won’t even answer me in class, Trey. And we sit next to each other!” You huff, throwing your arms into the air, growing increasingly irate, your every suppressed frustration bubbling up with ease in his presence. The beginnings of tears prick your eyes, and you feel your throat swell shut. To have an unresponsive group partner will always be an unbearable frustration— especially in Trein’s class, with his sink or swim curriculum, his rigid syllabus, his unwavering expectations. If your classmate doesn’t cooperate soon, you’ll fail.

You only wish you were headstrong enough to force him to comply.

All you can do, at present, is vent your every frustration with this situation to your sweet, doting, attentive boyfriend.

“I don’t know what to do…” You mumble, leaning against the cool kitchen countertop. You’re thankful that he’d entertain you so late in the night; not a soul can be heard in the surrounding rooms. It’s mostly silent, save for your ranting, the kitchen’s hum of electricity, the nervous shuffling of your feet.

Save for Trey’s worn sigh.

Exhausted, almost sounding more irate than even you, his mere exhale startles you straight. Is he mad? Eyes wide, worry seeps into you. Have you spoken too much? Had you even asked about his day? Are you being inconsiderate? You stutter something incoherent, but before your worn brain can muster something appeasing to say, Trey speaks up.

He lifts his glasses to rub his temple, green hair slightly tussled. He’s tired, and you certainly aren’t easing his tense mind.

“And what do you want me to do about this?” He starts, uncharacteristically monotone. Yellow eyes settle on you, unblinking, and you avert your gaze. Wholly intimidated, cowed into silence. When he wills it, Trey’s perfectly capable of sucking all the air out of a room.

Your sweet boyfriend speaks for you.

Pacing forward, he’s suddenly before you, so close the tips of your slippers touch. “I told you that one’s trouble, didn’t I?” Trey lightly chides, still cooly composed. ‘That one,’ being your fickle partner; the one your boyfriend did, indeed, warn you about. More than once, insisting that you inquire with your ever-intimidating professor about a group change, and to no avail. “Didn’t I?” He reiterates, pressing you for a reaction. You look away, a mix of scandalized and ashamed, called out on an error you hadn’t felt was too egregious to make. You thought you could handle it. You still can.

“Look at me, buttercup.” He implores, cupping your cheek with one hand and facing you to him— but, for fear of what you’ll find, and shame for the presumably selfish manner in which you’ve acted, your minor betrayal, you keep your eyes averted.

But your sweet boyfriend doesn’t like that, doesn’t enjoy offering his tenderness and receiving none of your compliance in return. Trey squeezes your cheeks so harshly his nails dig into your cheekbone, and you gasp, eyes immediately flickering to peer up into his.

“You know you can always trust me, right?”

You nod. Faintly feeling like he’d just grip your cheeks and do it for you, if you hadn’t.

“Take his name off of your research paper, tell Trein what’s been going on, and own up to it. It’s your work, sweetheart.” Thick fingers loosen their hold, and a soreness stabs the meat of your face, but you refrain from soothing yourself. He brushes hair from your eyes, and leans in to kiss your forehead.

“If you’d just listen, we wouldn’t have hiccups like this, would we?”

It’s a tad uncharacteristic for him, but still expected, given his pastimes and upbringing— Trey utilizes sickeningly sweet nicknames to when referring to you. He feels he’s being unoriginal when he calls you things like ‘honey’ and ‘sweetheart’, largely because he’s playing it safe and sticking to what he knows: what his parents call each other. It’s a secure bet to call you the aforementioned endearments, normal things like ‘pumpkin,’ but Trey does have a tendency to let pure sugar drip from his lips when he’s cross with you, using grossly saccharine names so as to glaze over the pure venom he’s fully capable of dishing your way when it’s warranted.

His idea is that, the sweeter his words, the more willing you’ll be to acquiesce to the severe alterations he wants to impose upon your relationship, which will ultimately bind you to him. Because he’s so articulate and persuasive in the manipulation he does, working the rest of your peers out to be these wholly volatile creatures so as to solidify his position as the sole recipient of your love, this strategy is incredibly effective. He plays a long game, planting little seeds of doubt in your own capabilities whenever you have the smallest slip-ups, hinting to the possibility that, yeah, maybe you’re just not cut out for an environment like this, that it’s in your best interests to quit, save yourself this cutting mental strain. It ultimately snowballs into a bigger issue, wherein you’re constantly left too-hesitant to pursue bigger feats in your school life, doubting your intellect and hard work thus far, feeling deep inadequacy in areas that you may not even struggle in. He’s at the root of it. And he’ll be there to soothe and sway you to him when you stray too far from the path you’d set for yourself, falling completely behind.

Trey doesn’t use lover’s nicknames too freely with you, though. They’re an indulgence, and something he typically doles out as a reward, somewhat micro-dosing you with doting words when you do what’s expected of you, and unprompted. Holding his hand, never straying too far from his lunch table, not growing too needy, listening to him (at bare minimum)— even going as far as to check up on your flossing and treat you with a ‘good job, honey,’ if you stay consistent. Like you’re some child.

Additionally, he’ll wean you from his tenderness should he feel the PDA gravitates too much attention to the both of you. He’s got no qualms in publicizing your relationship, and is in favor of doing so— but, as with most things, Trey is partly wary of exposing too much of himself, and this applies to you. It’s a mix of possessiveness and a desire to keep the raw parts of his life squared away, untouchable, and unseen. You’re among those things.

Trey loves to call you: sweetheart, honey, buttercup, muffin, sweetness

Cater Diamond

Cater wrenches you to him, hands spread over the expanse of your back, rubbing you up-and-down, as if attending to a distraught animal. The evening sun gleams through the club room’s windowpanes, kisses your cheeks, bathes you and Cater in a warm, honeyed veil. You’re both sat snugly atop a pile of pillows used to form a makeshift couch, snack wrappers littering the floor, the room left vacant with both Lilia and Kalim having long darted off to attend to their own dorms. Your boyfriend gives up on his half-assed massage and wraps an arm around your waist, curling over you and stuffing his face in the crook of your neck.

It’s intimate, it’s sweet, and it makes you flush. His earring rests cooly against your flushed cheek, and a smile tugs on the corner of your lips. It’s nice.

Even still, what he’d just said bordered on creepy. Invasive, possessive, and utterly strange, coming from him. In good conscience, you can’t let it slide.

“Cater?” You push, trying to nudge his head away from you, but he’s fully leaning on you now, his nose nuzzling into your jaw, this close proximity lightly frying your nerves. “Can you just— can we talk for a second? I don’t want to glaze over that.”

A little sigh comes from him at that, warm breath spreading over the expanse of your neck, making you shiver. “Glaze over what, cutie?” He croons into you, not sounding quite as irked as you anticipated he’d be from the interruption. If anything, he only squeezed your midriff a bit tighter, and you couldn’t exactly complain. It’s nice to be held like this.

Why don’t you quit your club for me?

You take a beat of silence, hoping that he’ll remember the jarring little tidbit he’d dropped on you not twenty minutes ago, his phrasing then disregarded and brushed away by the crushing gravity of Kalim’s excitement at the prospect of your participation in their band-snack-club… thing.

For me, he’d said. It’s not too weird, is it? He wants to spend more time with you. You’re already skipping over your obligations to your own club every other week to be with him, urged on by his club’s cumulative persuasiveness and heady enthusiasm, the ploy that Cater just really, really wants to see you more. That it’s boring without you there. It’s sweet that he’s so insistent, you think, but a thing of doubt gnaws at your brain. A bit of queasiness, at how easily he’d suggested you disregard what’s so important to you.

It’d be fine thing to say, had this not been the fifth time Cater’s brought it up, disregarding the five respective times you’ve already shot this suggestion down.

You like your club. You like what you do, and you really like the people in it. And you love Cater, of course, but you can’t deny the twang of uselessness you feel at wasting two hours to simply lounge and snack and sit in silence as Lilia mercilessly shreds an electric guitar, the sense that you’re misplaced, that there’s another place you’d rather be.

You’re queasy because of his insistence. You’re queasy because he won’t let up, and Cater seems just a little more annoyed every time he brings it up, as if he’s fed-up with some unreasonable display of defiance you’re putting up, that this is the end-all decision to the fate of your relationship.

You could very well be overthinking.

This could be no big thing.

He’s mouthing your neck at this point, warm lips lingering over your pulse. The hints of teeth he’d let roam your neck have you squirming by now, arms twitching to shoot up and brush him away from you, but you resist, indulging him in indulging you. It takes a moment to gather your bearings, find a modicum of mental fortitude, but you persist in your interrogation, wanting to quit the creeping discomfort that’s been nagging at you for weeks now.

“Cater, I’m not— I’m not comfortable coming over here anymore. After school, it’s… It’s better for me to do my own thing. I think. My club relates a lot to the field I want to go into, you know? It’s not optional for me.”

He doesn’t stop kissing at you. He doesn’t show a hint of concern to you, not baring a glimpse into what he’s thinking, and you’re getting a bit scared, to be fully honest with yourself. You want to be honest with him.

“And… I dunno. You’ve been really weird lately? Not, like, creepy or anything, just a little off. You don’t open up to me as much, and I feel like something’s wrong.” You explain, still letting him lean into you, wringing your hands in your lap as his lavishing persists, not once acknowledging your words. Taking a second to open room for an addition, you sigh as you’re met with silence, the movement of his lips not once abating. So you continue. “I just think—“

Cater bites your neck without an ounce of forewarning. A sensitive spot, the place he likes to tease his fingers over when he plays with your hair, that he knows can cripple you with a single chaste kiss. He bites down there, and hard. You stifle a cry, overwhelmed with a conflicting wave of pain and minute pleasure that does not abate. Confusion and fear overwhelms it all.

Your hand jolts to cover the aching impression the instant Cater lifts away from you, and you quickly turn away to face him, face twisted up in shock and slight discomfort at the jarring action, feeling quite miffed and, frankly, betrayed that he’d do something like that without asking. For biting you so hard. Hard enough for tears to prick your eyes, which, as you observe Cater lean back on the pillows with boyish ease, you’re faintly certain has caused his smile.

Lax and nonplussed with your shock and awe, the hint of trepidation that lingers around you, Cater spreads his arms, opening himself for another hug. As the seconds tick by, the longer you remain stagnant in your disarray, the more impatient he becomes. He leans forward, taking initiative, wrapping you again in his embrace and falling back with you.

Your boyfriend lets out a little ‘oomph’ upon contacting with the pillows, chuckling a little— so lackadaisical in nature, you could mistake this rendezvous for the same teasing tousling he likes to do in his dorm room, not the serious conversation you’d intended it to be. Why won’t he take you seriously?

His hand soothes over your head, lightly brushing over your baby hairs, and a little kiss meets your earlobe.

“Let’s just be quiet for a little while, yeah? Take it easy. You think too much, babydoll,” He coos, but not without a twinge of warning to his tone, sterner than he’s ever been with you. You go a bit rigid.

“You shouldn’t wear yourself out with useless stuff like that. Everything’s just peachy, isn’t it?”

Out of every Heartslabyul member listed here, Cater uses endearments with the most frequency. It’s expected of him!

He experiments with your nicknames like one would throw darts, constantly changing his flow of speech and choice words, shooting either to hit or miss. He’s not super in-tune with your likes and dislikes— it’s more so how his peers react to the nicknames he lavishes you in. If hearing him call you ‘booga-bear’ makes his dorm mates crumple up and cringe, he’s not likely to ever use it again. Whatever is popular to call one’s beau online, he’s likely to start calling you. It’s very impersonal, quite obviously only intended to build him up as the sweetly doting boyfriend he aims to be, superficial enough to throw you off. But he doesn’t exactly want that, either, so he’ll ease up a bit if he finds it makes you increasingly wary to accept his attempts at PDA, sticking to what’s tried and true— babydoll. It’s equal parts endearing and embarrassing, just intimate enough to make you squirm, with how quietly he’ll whisper it in your ear. Just below the rush he gets from a hit Magicam post is the thrill of making you shrivel up, be it out of shyness or plain discomfort. He likes to have that level of influence over your state of being, to get you to curl up from a small word.

Cater marks you his: babydoll, cutie, cutie-pie, lovebug, hon’, sugarlump, puppy, sweetums

Ace Trappola

Petulant, mean, and uncaring. Your boyfriend is a rotten bully. You fume and stomp down a main hallway, steps long and wide, aiming to make Ace acutely aware of your indignation.

“Leave me alone!”

“Baby, come on!” He groans, the noise reverberating throughout the gymnasium, following him out as he slams into the push handle and jogs after you. You don’t look back, walking faster now.

Mean, mean, mean. Who is he, to tell you to fuck off? What sort of boyfriend is he, to mutter that you’re only showing up to practice to ‘soak up attention,’ to flaunt and flirt with his teammates? You had thought doling out refreshments would be a nice gesture, something he’d recognize for what it is; his partner demonstrating support on a hot summer’s day, being his mini-cheerleader. You thought he’d be happy to see you.

‘Leave them there and go,’ are the words Ace greeted you with. Not a smile, no wave, no questions of why you weren’t at your own club, none of his typical sweetness. None of it. No, the second he spotted you in the sidelines with Floyd, he was immediately abrasive and cold, meandering over to tell you to piss off the instant a whistle blew for a break. Even upon pointing out your reason for being there, a cooler packed with carbonated sweetness and water, you received; ‘That’s nice, babe, but we’re busy.’

Perhaps if Floyd hadn’t been so close to you on the bench, Ace’s mood wouldn’t be so sour. His jarring bouts of jealously are a sign and dance that you are, regrettably, well familiar with. And utterly sick of.

But he’s always been quick to make a smooth recovery.

Catching up to you, breathless from the last game and the mini-sprint it took to reach you, Ace snatches up your forearm. You, still furious, wrench it away from him, but his hands are quick to follow. In a flurry of motion, you’re spun around to face him, shoulders gripped tightly by Ace’s sweaty palms.

To top off his absurd assholery, he absolutely reeks. You scrunch up your nose in distaste.

“Hey, hey, hey! Babe, I mean it. I’m sorry for being such an ass back there,” He smiles, crooked, his eyebrows knit together in a blatant mockery of regret. “That’s what you’re all mad about, yeah? I didn’t mean to talk so harsh. Honest.”

You open your mouth to rebuke him, attempting to shrug out of his hold, but he’s even quicker to interrupt you, to hold you tighter.

“I mean it.”

Tighter, tighter, tighter. Tighter until your shoulder locks up, rigid with pain, threatening to pop out of socket. You whine, thrash, try to maneuver yourself in such a way that throws him off of you, but Ace doesn’t let up. Till he wrings out your forgiveness, he won’t.

“I-I know! It’s fine!” Is what you muster, more of a yell than the timid acceptance he usually likes to hear from you, but it’s enough. His grip eases. You breathe.

And then he holds you, more tender than before, in that performative tenderness you can easily see through. It’s always the same— brush hair behind your ear, pepper your cheek, nose, forehead, and neck in kisses, and stroke your back up and down. He must think this is all it takes to rid you of your hurting.

Ace uses nicknames as one would a bandage. He strongly believes that, with enough sappiness, any wound he’s inflicted upon you can be easily amended. Typically, he’s too flustered to use endearments around his peers, not wanting to appear as some lovesick puppy-dog who’s desperate to win your favor. Cooly, he’ll call you by name, occasionally switching to ‘babe,’ if only to solidify his position as your boyfriend when he feels threatened by another man. Those sickly sweet nicknames only come up when you’re well and truly put-out with his abrasive behavior; he gets aggressive and accusatory when you display interest in anybody other than himself, and is both deliberately and unintentionally cruel, often forgetting himself and going too far with barbed words and vicious snipes. Only when you’re teary-eyed does Ace bust out ‘baby,’ cupping your cheeks in his hands and softly leveling with you— cooing warmly, as if he hadn’t just marked you a whore for electing to work with Deuce over him in a paired project.

Ace likes to call you: babe, baby, and (very rarely) cutie. Will try and fail to woo you by calling you ‘sexy’ and ‘kitten’. He’s not suave enough…

Deuce Spade

“You know… I’m not really comfortable with you hanging around Epel so much.”

You take pause from preparing Deuce’s study guide, setting your pen down mid-vocabulary word, leaving the bright blue flash-card unfinished. Intrigued, albeit slightly put-out by the serious tone he so rarely takes, you devote your full attention to him.

He immediately interprets your blank staring as open criticism rather than a gesture for him to continue— justifiably so, you suppose— but what do you say to something like that? What exactly has made him uncomfortable? Is he about to accuse you of something? You’re not sure. So you wait for him to speak, your expression the image of neutrality.

“Sorry. I’m sorry if that’s overstepping a little. I’m just… I don’t know, he’s a bit touchy, I guess ? He knows that I’m dating you, but he still calls you such nice things, and it’s kinda irking to see him hover around you like he does. Like he’s trying to win you over or something. I dunno,” He rapid-fires, speaking so hurriedly that you can hardly deliberate on what’s being said, as if to gloss over this blatant source of his concern.

Deuce has been clingy the past few weeks. To say the least. You’re well aware of his fried nerves as of late, but you’d thought to attribute the incessant lingering and repeated calls to his concern for midterms— that’s the viable excuse he had, anyway, and the very reason why you’re going so far as to make him a study guide right now. For a class you don’t even have.

“Maybe I’m just overthinking.” He asserts, about to brush away his statement, waving a hand in the air. Deuce’s right hand deftly flicks and twirls a pen, a mesmerizing little gesture, one you’re certain he’s doing to curb his own anxiety. You can feel his leg jolting up and down, practically vibrating from the intensity of his nerves. You think he’s finished, and open your mouth to inquire further, to coax out a better explanation from him, but he fires off again.

“I mean, it’s weird, right? I call you up to come over and study, like we promised, and he’s with you at Sam’s shop. He mozies up to our table in the cafeteria and sits next to you, and I have to sit two people away because, y’know, my class is so far away I’m always late, which I’m sure he knows. The apple thing, too, you know?” Deuce whines, breathlessly exasperated, so frantic in his explanation that you’re wildly taken aback, minimally gaping and grappling for an area to interject. But you can’t, and he continues for you.

“Cutting that apple for you. Making the slices into little bunnies, all that. I couldn’t even do it for you when I tried after school, and you had to wrap my hands cuz’ I’m such a clutz and went and cut myself, and— geez.” He breaks off, voice cracking, and you’re forced to full attention at the warble his lip takes, the wet gleam that instantly floods those striking chan eyes, threatening to drip down onto your freshly inked flash cards.

You don’t mind it. Instead, You immediately lean over the desk to cup his hands in yours, trying to ease him into meet your eyes as his own go glassy. He dips his head downward, clearly hiding from you.

“Hey, hey! It’s okay! Please don’t cry, Deuce.” You quietly urge, not keen on attracting any watchful eyes from around the library, empty though it is. You’d be sorry if anyone else saw him like this. If he became the butt of some joke for his sensitivity— you’ve always liked that about him. You don’t mind the tears, but you do worry.

So you do what any good lover would do, and comfort him. Do anything to right what’s making him so wrong.

“It’s Epel, yeah? You don’t want me to hang around him so much? That’s all fine. We’re weren’t even that close in the first place, Deuce. I swear.” Reaffirming him, you acquiesce to the inquiry that so quickly wracked him with anxiety, leaning over and pressing your forehead to his. “I wish I’d known about this. I’m sorry that I didn’t catch on sooner,” You offer, trying to get him to look at you with gentle reassurances, half-empty promises.

Then you kiss his forehead, and he rockets upright.

With a grin peeled over his lips, he leans forward to kiss your cheek, filled with fresh zeal and eagerness. Your eyes widen a bit at how quickly that crumpled expression fled his face. How immediately he resumed that easy boyishness of his, the sweetness that endeares him to you so much. It’s strange, but he kisses away the stitch that forms between your brows, too.

“I knew you’d understand, lovely. Thank you for being so considerate.”

Deuce knows much better than to degrade you in any capacity. Among a plethora of other life tips, his mother made it a point to drill into him the importance of respecting his partner, to communicate, harbor respect, to treat you as an equal. Ever since he meekly announced to her that he’d found you, she’s reminded him of this. Treat them well, she’ll note, every time he brings you up over the phone, which, admittedly, is incredibly frequent. So, he’s not likely to use the same monikers that Ace or Cater take to, which are markedly less respectful given the context they use them in— Deuce wants you loved and appreciated, and takes great care with what nicknames he chooses for you.

He’s flushed for hours after using it, but Deuce strongly favors ‘lovely’ for your trademark endearment, something to call you every day without fail, be it publicly or over the phone each night before bed. It’s sweet and easy, gentle, something that rolls off his tongue easier with repeated use. It’s comfortable and safe for him and you. It’s nice.

The issue with Deuce’s nicknames doesn’t pertain to you, necessarily, but trouble does arise when he seeks out a new individual to project his insecurities onto, someone he views as a threat to what you two have got going on. Be it with someone in his close circle physically inching too close to you, or an unknown classmate he shoulder-checks for staring at you too long, Deuce can quickly become volatile. To a fault, he’s incredibly possessive of you, and although it’s something he’s aware of, he struggles to keep it in check. Old habits die hard and, inevitably, he’s going to cuss someone out for crossing some benign and inscrutable boundary he’s made around you. Unbeknownst to you, or so he hopes. He’s not a massively threatening presence at school, but he’s got his fair share of bite— Deuce builds a bit of a reputation as an attack dog, where you’re concerned. If he deems it as warranted, he’s not above a bloody brawl. If his mom heard of any of this, she’d burst into tears. He’s quite certain that you’d leave him if you found out about him breaking fingers for the meager crime of latching onto your arm.

Deuce will call you: lovely, precious. He rarely deviates from these two, if at all.

[cummin-n-cryin]

The Camping Trip

Minors/Blank blogs Do Not Interact!

Jade Leech x gn!reader

Tw: Nsfw, dubcon, manipulation, drugging, aphrodisiac, yandere??? (I didn't write this with yandere in mind but I'll just throw it in), I think that's it lemme know if I missed any!

Wordcount: 4,470

Side Note: *drags their body out of a dark cave* Hey fellas it's been awhile huh? Anyway life's been a bit crazy I got sick with a nasty cold, my cats getting her teeth removed because her body is attacking them, ect. Anyway It took me awhile to write this and I hope you all like it! I'm still a bit awkward at writing nsfw but hopefully this turned out okay!

You had joined the Mountain Lovers club a while ago. At first you hated the idea of joining the club. Hearing your friends whisper of how the club leader Jade was cold, cruel, and manipulative, it kind of scared you.

However, after interacting with all the other clubs and their members, you found that none of them really held your interest like the Mountain Lovers Club did. In the end, you decided to say fuck it and just go for it, hoping that it would all go well.

And it did! It didn't take you two that long to become friends. Sharing his love of nature and exploration, you two found that you had much more in common than you originally thought!

While you couldn't say that you loved mushrooms as much as he did, you found his interest in them quite endearing. It was common for him to sit down with you and explain all the different mushrooms he had found after returning from one of his solo mountain treks. He'd answer every little question you had with a bright smile.

It was hard to see Jade in a negative light when he looked so happy with his little fungi. Watching him happily talk about how healthy his mushrooms are or how his mushroom spawn was finally successful after so much failure. To think that you used to think of him as such a horrible person...

If there was one thing that you didn't like about Jade it was how insistent he was on hiking alone. He would always tell you that, "You're not ready yet," or how he, "believes it would be safer if you didn't come along with him." It was very frustrating. Hiking in the mountains was one of the biggest reasons you even joined! Exploring the mountains is pretty much what the whole club was about!

So, why wouldn't he let you go hiking with him?

One day you had enough and cornered the slimy eel. You bombarded him with questions until he finally caved, though it wasn't the answer you expected. "I was trying to find the best route for you," he stated simply. "Since it's your first time I thought it would be nice to find the best route so that you could truly appreciate the beauty of the mountains without having to worry about the rough terrain."

He held his hands together, a small smile tugging at his lips as he continued, "Besides I thought I should make our first hiking trip something truly special. I had only recently been able to acquire a tent and thought that we should try camping as well. But, if you have better things to do then I suppose I'll just go all by myself," he finished with a small frown on his face. His eyes turning away from you, he looked like he was about to cry.

You felt like slapping him. "Of course, I want to go camping with you!" you yelled at him.

Jade smiled at you, "Well then, seeing how enthusiastic you are, take this," he hands you what looks to be a guide for hiking. "Oh, and this as well." He gives you a list of things to bring for the trip. "How about we go tomorrow? My schedule is empty for the next couple of days," you responded with a thumbs up, and soon you both went your separate ways.

You may not have completely thought this through.

Sweat dripped down your forehead and your legs were shaking like a newborn deer. You were beyond tired of walking. Jade was quite far ahead of you and seemed far too distracted within his own mind to notice your miserable state.

With a heavy sigh you decided to sit on a nearby fallen tree. Thankful for the cold water you brought with you, you greedily gulped it down. You couldn't help but wonder how you thought this was a good idea.

Well, you don't completely regret your decision. Jade wasn't lying about how beautiful this place was. Looking around you, you can honestly say you've never seen so much greenery in your life.

Everywhere you looked there was some mysterious plant that was sprouting or growing. Even looking up, the trees formed a canopy above you, the sun's rays glittering through the tree's leaves gave the area an almost mystical feel.

Now that you think about it, how deep into the woods are you? You know that you and Jade had been walking for a long time but, just how long? How far was the school from here?

You suddenly felt an icy breeze across the back of your neck.

.

.

Your breath caught in your throat, goosebumps covered your skin as your hair rose. You swear something just breathed on you.

You didn't dare move.

The sound of a snapping stick caught your attention. You whipped your head in the direction of the noise.

"Oh, my apologies for running up ahead. I must have overestimated how much you could handle. My sincerest apologies for my oversight. I promise it won't happen again," he said. You sighed; it was only Jade.

While you would have been mad at his almost cheeky tone, you were still freaked out about what just happened. If that wasn't Jade then what the hell was that?

You're snapped out of your thoughts by Jade's voice, "Perhaps we should set up our camp here?" he asked, already setting his backpack on the ground. "Uh- um- yeah, let's do that," you stuttered, pulling off your backpack as well.

Jade approached you looking concerned, "Oh my, did something happen?" You laugh off his question saying that you were fine. Thankfully, he didn't pry further and instead focused on helping you set up the tents.

Maybe you were overthinking things and it was just a simple cold breeze. Heh, yeah. That's all that it was...

Setting up camp was not as easy as you thought it would be. The strings of the tent occasionally whipped you in the face or escaped your grasp as you tried to hammer them down into the ground. Thankfully Jade was there to help.

The rest of the day was fairly uneventful. Jade went hunting for mushrooms and you decided to wander around the area, never straying too far from the camp. Night soon came so you and Jade decided to have your dinner, eating some of the mushrooms he collected along with a few snacks you two decided to bring on your trip.

You both woke early, the sun just barely peeking through the thick canopy of trees above you as you both walked deeper into the mountain's woods. You were a bit worried about straying too far from camp but Jade reassured you that you both wouldn't be going that far.

The adventure was far more calming than when you both had first started hiking up the mountain. Jade spent less time walking and more time observing his surroundings, sketching or taking pictures of all the interesting little plants he finds and of course documenting all the fungi he finds.

You would occasionally ask him about the things he was drawing but mostly left him to do his own thing. While he did that, you wandered around looking at all the rocks and small ponds that were scattered around the area. You even borrowed Jade's camera to take a few pictures of some beautiful flowers you found. Whether it be a little snail on a leaf or a running stream that reflected the sunlight causing it to cast a rainbow-like effect onto anything nearby, you were there taking a picture of it.

But, looking out into the beautiful forest, you realized that you couldn't really capture all of the scenery that you wanted. If you could somehow get just a bit higher up then you could capture a whole lot more.

Looking around, you caught sight of a nearby boulder. You quickly looked over to Jade, he wasn't paying any attention to you, instead he seemed to be busy with his sketches.

Good.

Smirking to yourself, you firmly held onto his camera as you climbed up the boulder. Looking over to Jade again you see that he was still very much engrossed in his drawing. Now on top of the boulder, you carefully stand up not wanting to slip off and hurt yourself.

Woah! You could see so much from up here!

The view from atop the boulder was beautiful. You could truly see the expanse of the forest. You hold up the camera, stilling your hands, you hit the button with a resounding click. You take a few more pictures. Once satisfied with the pictures you turn to get off the boulder.

.

.

You slip.

A loud cracking noise hits your ears as you land feet first on the hard ground. A searing pain shoots up your leg and you scream.

Your scream attracts Jade's attention and he quickly rushes over. He tries to calm you down, telling you to breathe as he carefully helps lift you off the ground. Jade lets you wrap an arm around him as he assists you back to camp. Jade had stayed true to his word, you both really didn't go that far from the camp as you make it back quite quickly.

Jade sets you down in your tent, leaving you there while he goes to get supplies to help you. All you can do is lay on your bed and try your best to not move your injured leg too much. He soon returns and carefully looks at your injury. You hiss in pain as he moves your foot around.

"Thankfully, it appears your ankle is only sprained," he says while still moving your leg around. You want to yell at him to stop moving your leg around so much, instead you bite your lip just wanting him to finish fixing your ankle. Jade sighs, "Perhaps you've been spending too much time with Floyd? Seeing how reckless you've become."

Great Seven, you've never wanted to hit him so badly. Maybe after you both return to NRC you should go to the Mostro Lounge and order smoked eel. Just imagining the look of disgust he'd give you almost makes this worth it.

He carefully wraps your ankle and it's... nice.

Jade treats your injury with a certain tenderness that you didn't really expect him to have. You can't tell if he's being so gentle because he doesn't want to make your injury worse than it already is or if there's something else. You watch him. Trying your best to see if you could figure out if he had some hidden motivation or if he really was just trying to wrap your stupid ankle.

Though, as you observe him you start to feel a bit odd. You quickly become a bit too aware of the way his hands feel on your skin.

His hands were a bit rough, more than likely from his gardening and his mountain treks, but they felt quite nice against your skin. His hands wrapped your ankle in precise and calculated movements as if he's done this thousands of times before. You found the way his hands moved almost mesmerizing; their fluid motion was messing with your head. You started to focus more and more on Jade, seemingly becoming entranced by him.

As quickly as the strange haze overcame you it had left as Jade stood up, dusting off his pants. You reluctantly thank Jade and suggest that it would probably be best if you two made your way back to NRC to get a proper doctor to help you.

"Do you not trust in my abilities, Y/n? Besides, I'd be quite lonely without you here. All alone collecting these mushrooms," Jade trailed off, a small frown on his face.

You rolled your eyes, "I'm sure you did a great job fixing my ankle Jade. It's just that-" you suddenly stopped. Hearing sniffling, you looked up at Jade's face only to see he was crying.

"I apologize Y/n. It's just that I spent so much time trying to make sure that this trip would go well and I know how desperate you were to come hiking with me. But if you wish for me to take you back to NRC than I shall," he said while trying to dry his tears.

You suddenly felt a bit guilty. After so long of bothering Jade to take you hiking with him, you're both finally out here together and while you just wanted a simple hiking trip, Jade went out of his way to make your first time out in the mountains memorable. Who knows what he had to do to let Crowley allow him to camp all the way out here.

Actually, that's a really good question. Does Crowley even know you're out here with him?

Whatever, it's not like you're both going to be out here forever and this might be the only time you can go camping with him. A couple days of not being bothered by Ace, Deuce, Grim, or Crowley is a blessing that rarely appears, so may as well enjoy the trip while it lasts.

With a sigh, you give in, "Fine, I'll stay."

Jade gives a small smile, his tears drying faster than you would have liked, "I assure you, I'll take good care of you while we're here."

He really tried to keep you happy. He'd help you out of your tent so you wouldn't be stuck in there all day. Unfortunately, because of your injury you couldn't exactly leave the camp site but he'd sometimes guide you to different spots that he wanted to show you. Small ponds with the occasional frog and numerous small plants, groups of fungi growing on a decomposing tree and other interesting things. And if he couldn't bring you with him then he'd just bring the item to you. He'd bring small plants, many mushrooms and sometimes small animals that he somehow managed to get his hands on.

Jade would sometimes leave for long periods of time but you didn't mind as whenever he came back he'd talk to you about everything he saw and of course teach you about all the mushrooms he's collected.

You were glad his mushroom hunting was going well but, it does kind of suck that most of what you eat is the mushrooms he's collected. At least you have a few different snacks in your bag but you're sure that by the end of the trip you probably won't be eating mushrooms for at least a month after this.

Things were going quite well until the next day.

Hot chills shook your body as you tried to sleep in your tent. Your skin felt hypersensitive, every little thing that touched you made you very aroused. Even the slightest movement of fabric against your skin made you shiver in need. You didn't know why you suddenly felt so hot and bothered by everything that merely touched you but, something was definitely not right.

"My you look quite distressed," Jade said observing you from the door of your tent.

You didn't respond, instead you tried to hide under your blanket. You could hear him approach your huddled form. Listening as he hummed thoughtfully to himself before speaking, "Can you tell me what symptoms you're having?"

You tried to come up with something, you weren't going to tell him that you just woke up uncontrollably horny for some reason! That's a very awkward conversation that you really didn't want to have with him so, grumbling a bit, you finally settled on, "Everything's hot."

He seemed to think about your answer for a bit, "Do you have anything else? Runny nose, sore throat, headaches, or coughing?" he asked. "No," you replied albeit a bit quickly. You felt him move closer to you. You could feel his gaze boring into you even while hiding under the blanket and it made you very uncomfortable.

He was quiet for what was probably only a couple minutes but it felt like hours as you waited for him to say something. You could hear him mumble to himself but you couldn't make out any of the words.

Suddenly, he grabs your thigh. You gasp as his cold grip sends a shock through your body. You're quickly overcome with a strong feeling of arousal. Panicking, you throw off your blanket to try and get his hand off of you. Thankfully, he pulls away. Jade looks at you surprised before he gives a small smile, "I think I know what ails you and I can help but I need you to tell me that you trust me."

You hate the way he words things so ominously sometimes. It's not that surprising that he probably knows something you don't, besides you're not originally from this world so maybe the way you're feeling is something that just happens sometimes? But his request is a bit too specific. You can't help but feel like he's planning something.

As you think, you realize it's becoming more and more difficult to think at all. You feel like your mind is slowly turning into mush. You're thoughts keep turning to the way Jade's hand felt on your thigh, much to your dismay.

Seeing your apprehension, Jade pulls out a glass vial from his pocket. "Here's your cure," he states simply.

Your eyes widen and you try to grab it but he quickly pulls away, "No, no, you need to say you trust me first." You make a noise of frustration before lunging at him.

You both fall to the floor. You're on top of Jade as you desperately reach out for the vial. He wraps an arm around you and pulls you close to him. You stop breathing for a moment, completely forgetting about the vial as you become hyperaware of the way Jade's body feels against yours. You can feel his chest rub against yours everytime he breathes, his strong arm wrapped around your lower back to hold you in place and his hand holding onto your side.

You feel breathless as he leans up towards you. His breath caresses your ear as he whispers, "Say it and it's yours," his voice sends shivers through you.

You stare up at the vial being held above your head before daring to look down at Jade.

His eyes glow in the darkness of the tent and no matter how hard you try you can't look away. "Say it," he whispers, his voice lulling you deeper and deeper into the fog of lust slowly clouding your mind.

You can't stop yourself when you breathlessly whisper, "I trust you."

.

.

Your heart beats faster as a wicked smile filled with sharp teeth crosses his face as he gazes up at you, his eyes glowing with barely suppressed hunger.

You think that you may have just made a grave mistake.

Quickly, he flips you onto your back and you go boneless, only having the strength to look up at him now looming above you.

Jade sits up and straddles you, his legs on either side of you, as he places the glass vial off to the side, just out of your reach. He then moves one of his hands to the zipper of his jacket, slowly unzipping it before pulling it off of him. You admire the way his broad shoulders roll as he removes his jacket.

He moves his hands towards you, using one of his hands to hold him up, he uses the other to slowly trace a line from the bottom of your jaw all the way down to your chest and further towards your stomach before finally grabbing the hem of your shirt. He pulls it up and you try to help him get it off of you. You feel so hot, you want him to just rip your clothes off already.

You reach up and grab his face catching him by surprise as you pull him down and kiss him. He laughs into the kiss, "Quite needy, aren't you?" You only moan in response and he takes the opportunity to quickly slip his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. His hands caress your body as his tongue dances with yours.

You can't think at all anymore, your mind nothing more than a pile of mush. All you can think of is Jade and the way he's touching you. How his rough cold hands soothe your burning skin and how his soft lips feel against yours. It's almost overwhelming. You're so focused on the kiss and the way he's touching you that when he finally pulls back, a string of saliva connecting your lips, you don't even realize you're completely naked.

Jade changes position, opting to sit in between your legs. You feel his hands glide down your naked body. A moan slips out and you quickly bite your hand to try and muffle it. Jade smiles, "No one but me is going to hear you my dearest, I've made sure it, so please," he looks down at you, his eyes dark with lust, "be as loud as you want."

He grasps your hips lifting you up slightly as he leans forward. You can feel the hard bulge in his pants pressing against your core. He grinds into you and you almost pass out right then and there. He's so close, so close to giving you what you want.

"Jade please-" you're interrupted by another roll of his hips against you.

"Hm? Do you need something?" he asks teasingly, a sly smile on his face. You groan in frustration. If he's not going to give you what you want then you'll just take it for yourself.

You quickly sit up and reach out, grabbing his pants. You try to get them off of him, not wanting to wait any longer. But your lust leaves you weak, your hands are shaky and with little effort Jade pushes your hands away from him. He sighs, "You're so impatient but if this is what you want, I'll strive to live up to your expectations."

He undoes his pants for you and pushes you back so you're laying down again. He leans down and kisses you, shoving his tongue into your throat as if he's trying to devour you. At the same time, you can feel something hard nudging against your entrance. Before you realize what it is, he quickly thrusts himself into you.

Your nails dig into his skin and you let out a choked moan as you feel all the wind get knocked out of you. Jade pulls away from the kiss, breathing heavily as you squeeze around him. "So impatient," he mumbles against your neck. You moan and writhe against Jade, tears stream down your face as he waits for you to get used to his size.

He places kisses on your neck, occasionally nibbling the skin with his shark-like teeth as he very slowly thrusts into you. You can't help but think that if he really wanted to, he could probably kill you. It's a morbid thought but thinking about it sends a shiver down your spine.

His speed increases as you get more adjusted to his girth. His thrusts becoming harsher and his grip on you grows tighter, almost painfully so. He pulls his face away from you, looking down at you.

"I'm sure somewhere in your mind you must be wondering why you've become like this, yes?" You don't respond to his question. The only thing you can think about right now is the way his cock feels pounding inside you and how when he angles himself a certain way it makes you see stars.

But soon he slows down, his thrusting stopping altogether. You try to make him move again, pulling him towards you and whining in desperation but he easily holds you down, seemingly unbothered.

"Well," he continues, "You might have figured it out by now but the mushrooms I've been feeding you have aphrodisiac like effects. I'll be honest, I didn't believe mushrooms could effect someone in such a way. Originally, I was going to try them out on myself. But you just wanted to go on a mountain trek with me so, so badly and it made me think that perhaps, you would be the perfect test subject and well," he grabs your tear-stained face forcing you to look at him, "looking at you now... You certainly are perfect."

"Though," he suddenly continues, letting go of your face, "I hadn't intended to give you such a large dosage. I must have overestimated how much your body would be able to handle. I apologize for not keeping my promise." He feigns a sad expression.

"Sh- Shut up," you barely mumble out.

Jade's eyes go wide in surprise for a moment before he laughs, "Oh, so you can speak? I see..."

He reaches over and grabs the vial, "Well, considering that I've gotten what I've wanted, it's only fair that I give you what you want."

He pops open the glass vial, grabbing your face, he opens your mouth but as he goes to pour it, the vial slips out of his hand and breaks, the liquid spilling out onto the floor next to you. A small, "Oops," escapes Jade's lips as he looks at the now spilled vial.

"Oh, well I suppose we'll just have to cure you the natural way, hm?" Jade says with a smile.

You let out a long, frustrated groan.

Jade lightly takes your ear between his teeth before moving down to plant light kisses along your shoulder and neck as he roughly slams himself into you. His hands harshly grab onto your thighs and hip. His nails digging into your flesh as he slowly loses himself to pleasure.

"Ah, don't be like that. Besides," he sharply thrusts into you making you gasp, "You seem to be enjoying this." His thrusts increase in speed, his hips snapping into you, driving his cock even deeper inside you.

He leans down towards you, breathe heavy as he whispers into your ear, "And, if I had to make an educated guess, I think that truthfully this is what you really want."

It soon becomes too much for you and you can feel yourself tighten around his cock before cumming. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as the intensity of your orgasm leaves you breathless.

He slightly slows down but he doesn't stop. With what little strength you have, you try pushing him away as the stimulation becomes too much for you but he grabs your hands and places a kiss on your palm.

You can hear the cruel smile on his lips as he whispers, "I'm far from done with you."

[dreaming4peace]

Sea Shell

Character(s): Yan! Azul Ashengrotto

Content Warning(s): Dark content, Possessiveness, Yandere, OOC

______________________________________________________

You had given him a glowing sea shell that you thought he would like when you were in middle school. That was probably the first mistake you had ever made. You could still recall how bright his smile was when he received the item, a step towards restoring his self-confidence, you had assumed happily. Azul was your friend and you wanted him to be happy, as childish as that sounded. It was an extra sea shell afterall, something you had thought nothing about.

It was clear that your friend does not share the same uncaring feeling about the item. Instead, the item was kept and protected from any other prying hands, that might, to him, steal it. You had brushed it off, certain that once he finds other interesting objects, he would think of it as nothing more than an accessory.

Throughout the years, Azul still had not forgotten the shell. It had shrunk to a small size by the time the two of you were in college and your friend had proceeded to make it into a ring that he will only wear when it was only him and you together. 

Now, the shell glows ominously as Azul approached you. “Why can’t you understand? You are just making this ten times harder than it is supposed to be!” Your friend shouted, causing you to freeze. What does he mean? You darted your eyes around your bedroom nervously, not knowing what he meant. 

“Azul, look I know things may be stressful now but you don’t have to-!” You were cut off by his intense glare. “Shut it. Were you playing with me throughout the years? Were you pretending to be my friend just because it is fun?” You did not know what to respond with but you still shook your head nonetheless. 

“Hah, you think I am just some useless octopus-mer who can’t swim right? An ink-squirting crybaby who cannot do anything right at all...” Tears were streaming down his cheeks but he still mustered a small smile. “Of course not. Can you hear yourself right now-?” You tried to snap the male in front of you back to his senses but it seems to be doing the exact opposite.

At this point, he was just a few inches away from you, as you were backed onto your desk. “That’s fine though. I cannot blame you for thinking like that...” He trails off before gazing into your eyes, allowing you to see the raw, dark emotion he is feeling. 

Before you could react, he embraces you into a hug. However, it was anything but warm and comfortable. Instead it was tight and suffocating, much like the man. “However you had charmed me a long time ago, and it would certainly hurt to stop now.” You feel your stomach drop with his next words.

“I had long accepted that I will never be who you want but taking is much easier isn’t it?”

____________________________________

Notes: Just pretend this is an AU where it is not that easy to overblot since I am pretty sure Azul would have overblotted like halfway through the story. Have not proofread this so apologies if the story may have awkward expressions etc. 

[dreamofjoys]

𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟑 ‒ 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 , 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐭

scenario: rook's obsession towards you is unhealthy. he kidnaps you, uses potion to turn you into an immobile doll. and next, he takes advantage of your body, claiming that this is how he show his love to you.

tw: yandere, kidnapping, reader is turned into a doll (slight horror??), stalking, noncon, virginity loss, oral, dark content

back to kinktober's 2022 masterlist

you want to scream, cry and kick something, but you can't. not when your upperclassmen rook hunt has you trapped in his palm.

the obsession starts off slowly. rook first saw you in nrc and decided that he wants to learn more about you. after knowing more about you, he grew protective, wanting to shield this innocent side of you. he wants you to stay this way forever, so he kidnaps you, bring you to one of his homes, fed you potions that would make you lose the ability to move or speak.

gradually, you could only lay on the bed still, unable to move, speak, or even escape. it was hell for you, seeing as to rook would personally sing you praises everyday, dress you up in different clothes, telling you how much he loves you. you could only stare into space, giving no reaction as rook continues on his duty as a "lover" ; well, it's not like you can give him any expression anyway, you are unable to do.

you thought that rook would only keep you on the bed, change your clothes, feed you potions so that you will remain immobile while he declares his undying love for you.

however, rook is a creative man. one day, he approaches you, claiming that he knows how to prove his undying love to you! lovers often have intimate sex right? so that's what he is going to do, he is going to give you his first (while also taking first) and you just have to lay there and take all of him.

you panicked when you heard about his idea. you wanted to struggle so badly when he strips off all of your clothes, marveling at your nude frame, babbling about how good you look. both of his hands went forward to cup your breast, index finger and thumb pinching at your nipples, watching it harden under his gaze. he literally has heart eyes for your body, making sure to suck on your nipples like a good "lover" that he is. he would give kisses all over your body, making sure that not a single spot is missed. your wrist, under your knees, your ankles, whatever spot that you name it, rook will give his attention to it.

he was most excited about it when he reaches your pussy, looking in awe at the pretty pink organ. what does he do when he sees something pretty? he devours it down.

rook makes sure to give a long lick down from your clit, to your folds and your hole. he absolutely loves the way you taste, and would continuously eat you out till he is satisfied.

but does rook stop there? nope. he has his thick cock ready. the head of it gathering slicks at your folds before promptly slamming himself into you. you would have screamed, except you can't, so you watch him take your virginity, feeling the head of his tip kissing onto your cervix with each sinful thrust.

he is shameless about it too, moaning your name loudly, hands roaming around your body to feel you. he gives you a kiss on the lips, but obviously you are unable to kiss him back. rook is okay with that too, because he have you under his control now, a fragile innocent doll.

you can't do anything, except watching rook ruin you and hearing the sound of your own heart breaking.

[heavenlyakin]

cw: knife play, blood, and dark content ig. Not edited.

rook hunt x fem reader

—

Cold, sharp, and deadly. Your mind can’t decide whether the man straddled over you or the silver blade in his hand is deadlier.

Rook trails the tip of the knife down your collarbone, humming to himself as he goes. A smile breaches his lips and his green eyes focus on yours. “So delicate, ma chérie” he comments.

You try to squeeze your thighs together but under his weight, the ties around your ankles, and the desire to behave keeps you still. Biting your lip, you try and focus on where the knife might go next and whether or not he’ll turn the blade and knick your skin again. You feel yourself getting wetter at the thought.

Rook has taught you a lot, and one of the best lessons has been that pain and pleasure can coexist in one incredible sensation.

“Tell me,” he goes on, the knife tip drawing a circle around your perked nipple, “are you going to behave?”

You hadn’t, and that’s how you ended up here. You still can’t get the tearing sounds from when Rook cut your clothes off of you. What will you wear home later? Certainly other students will notice if you borrow something of Rooks.

Smiling at him, you nod. “I’ll behave.”

He smiles, “For some reason, I just don’t believe you.” He tilts the knife, the sharpened end now teetering on your breast. “A little scar here would look pretty… give me something to remember this moment every time I wrap my tongue around your nipple.”

You arch your back, his words sending shivers down your spine.

“Ah, ah, ah, little brat” he coos, leaning forward and kissing your lips. “Remember, all it would take is one foul move and I’d be all that’s left to remember you.”

The sharp, agonizing sting from the blade takes over your senses. You squeeze your fists together, tugging on the cuffs and biting hard on your lip. Your breast is aflame with pain and your eyes roll back. You feel the trickle of blood streaming down your breast to your side, spilling onto the towel Rook laid you on.

“Fuck,” you moan, your eyes fluttering back open.

He’s no longer hovering over you but instead between your thighs, his eyes watching the blood drip down your body. He watches as if it’s his favorite show, intense and focused. As he gets closer, his tongue drags across your skin, lapping up the blood from your breast.

“Rook!” You whine, the sting intense but the scene too erotic to look away from or beg for him to stop.

“——-“ he moans your name, looking at you with wild eyes. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

[lunareclipses-moments]

Yandere idia shourd

Warning: manipulation, stalking behavior, gore , Stockholm syndrome, kidnapping

Firstly I don't encourage this kind of behavior and everything written here is made of fiction so please don't take it seriously and if you are uncomfortable with these kinds of stuff please leave

Idia shourd x gnreader

Enjoy reading if you are still here

Yandere boyfriend idia Who hates it when you don't answer his calls so he installed cameras in your room just to make sure you are safe

Idia who hates when you pay attention to others and ignore him , you need help in your class why ask your classmates when you have him you don't love him anymore?

Idia who cried when you say you are leaving to do anything else and begs you to stay because he is afraid to be alone

Idia who is slowly making your life revolves around him and only him

But when you finally break away from his manipulation and put some lines on your privacy,he starts stalking you more than usual, and he becomes more clingy and demanding more attention

Idia who hides your things on purpose so you start depending on him more to find him

Idia who finally had enough of your annoying friends who tries to always warn you about how creepy and manipulative your boyfriend is but you always brush them off telling them how it's his love language

" guys it's okay, he is making sure I am fine in his own way "

" will you stop being delusional, it's the third time he calls you asking who is with you, "

Your friends tried to warn you about him but you are already far gone down in his rabbit hole and the only one you can blame is your stupid, naive brain for trusting him

"don't worry darling, they are far away from you and me after all the only one who can love you is me and only me "

Maybe he is right because no matter how much you scream for help no one hears you, but he is always here whipping your tears away hugging you keeping you safe from the cruel world

He broke your brain making you believe he was the only one you need even though he is probably the only one you need to stay away from

Maybe deep down you love him too

Yeah you love him , you adore him , he is the only one you need, the only one you will depend on for the rest of your life

" yes dearest you are the only one I need I love you"

The happiness he felt after hearing those words was undeniable he successfully broke your mind and made you his helpless sheep who will die without his love and affection and will never leave him

" even death wouldn't tear us away from each other "

[aliceattheart]

Pls make request

I love writing, I wish to get better at it. If you do end up requesting please follow the rules. If you have any questions DM me about it before requesting, Thx.

Alsooo, please request by clicking the request button :3

Also I right for Chubby, Bigger gals! As well as POC :]

Character fandoms

One Piece

Most characters

Twisted Wonderland

Everyone but Grim and Ortho

Black Butler

Everyone but the kids :)

Dragon Ball

Everyone but the kids 😼

Hunter x Hunter

Inside Job

Persona 5

Hotel Hazbin I'm no longer taking requests for this >:( I'll open it up later on

Mostly only Alastor

Undertale

Sans

Twilight

Jacob

Creepy Pasta

Anyone basically but the children or the animals

Villainous

Everyone

Osomatsu

Everyone

John Doe 🤭

This is self explanatory

Just ask me for another fandom and I'll try my hardest to make a story, if I can't my fault lmao.

Things I'll write

Angst

Yandere

Dark themed

Kidnap

Slight gore

One shots

Semi stories

NSFW

Stuff I will write for

Mostly anything that isn't on the bottom list

I do not write for are

Scat

Watersports

Incest

Vore

Heavy Age play

Pedophilia

Knife play

Threesome / Party play (sorry, I don't think I can write for this)

Beastiality

Probably will edit this later

Thxs for reading and please make request! I'll make it worth your wild 😼🤭

[cvlutos]

"NOTHING GOOD HAPPENS AFTER DARK"

RIDDLE R. v LEONA K. [MALE!READER]

ALICE IN WONDERLAND x RED RIDING HOOD [CROSSOVER]

WARNINGS: DARK CONTENT | YANDERE | VIOLENCE | PREDATOR n’ PREY | HUNTING | BLOOD | SUGGESTIVE | IMPLIED MURDER | PERSECTIVE JUMPS | SPECIES DISCRIMINATION | ETC | BE CAUTIOUS, BELOVED

T.MANOR: TRYING A NEW LAYOUT AND WRITING STYLE. ALSO, THIS IS PRETTY MESSY WRITING SO BE AWARE

| PART TWO |

| FEM!VER | GN!VER |

EVERY Tuesday, exactly at noon, does the stone clock tower chime. Without delay, you hear the sound of trumpets, the marching of hooves, as the golden gates of the palace open. Wide and big, as the card soldiers, in perfect position, march upon horses of black and white, wearing that of red with swords attached to their hips and spears within their hands. Preparing for the Queen’s weekly hunt. The crowd cheers, waves banners, as they yell sayings of good luck.

The cobblestone path is tight, crowded with people, big and small, infants to the elderly, all in hopes of seeing the benevolent Queen off. Even if this same celebration will happen next week as well. In seeing him in all his grandeur. Something you’d “sadly” miss, with your woven basket tight in hand, warm and heavy from the fresh baked delights, all from the Clover bakery. You shimmy through the tight crowd, moving in the opposite direction and were, quite frankly, in the way, even as you walk along the side house and store walls. You mummer ‘excuse me’ and apologize as you go, giving sheepish grins to those who spared you a glance.

You would rather be at home, yet you promised your mother you would go. You promised to go to the bakery, to buy your grandmother’s favorite treats and sweets and deliver them to her. She lives just outside the town and in the center of the thick woods, just on the other side in a small cottage in the middle of the northern woods. A journey you’ve made countless times, and on less crowded days. Yet today, your mother was extra worried, extra concerned for your grandmother’s well being. Even if you promised, you’d go first thing in the morning tomorrow. Yet she forced you anyway. Well, guilt-tripped you into going.

‘What if she’s already dead? Hm? What would you do then?’

Return home? Tell the authorities? Cry? Yet the look on her face told you she didn’t want any back talk, so you gave in and left.

You forced yourself further down the path, spotting the familiar opening that you’ve always taken. The town you live in is surrounded by a large stone wall. Tall and thick, with only one way out of the village, and one way in. Yet this impenetrable wall has a hole, fairly big, that anyone could fit their largest ox. So you had no trouble merely crawling or walking through. The alley that led to your secret path was uncrowded, as if waiting for you and you alone.

You shimmy forward, pushing past local residents. Some allowed room for you, having noticed you, others merely rolled their eyes. You pop your head past the road barricade, searching the long stone road. The card soldiers were far. Far away to where you could make it without interrupting them, or them even noticing you. You step over the thick string, glancing one more time, before you make haste. Darting onto the clear, wide road. Ignoring shouts and gasps as you make your way to the alley. Stopping to catch your breath, you turn around. Some of the crowd are merely laughing you off, others completely ignoring, some glared at you disappointedly, yet none made a move to call the guards on you. Your eyes scan the road. You hadn’t dropped anything, and if you did, you’re sure no one would even notice.

Slightly proud of yourself, you continue on, moving past the eccentric alley system, moving quickly past houses and shops, jogging towards the large wall.

You’d be fine.

══════ ♡ ══════

“HALT.”

The crowd becomes silent, and everything pauses. A send off has never once stopped. The Red Queen, golden crown glinting in the sun, his hand raised high. His horse stands still, the same confident and demanding energy as his owner, bows his head, as the Queen flows off the saddle. Heels clicking against the stone road. He walks forward, taking exactly five precise steps, before crouching, leather gloved fingers swiping along the stone. How he saw just a small thing, no one will ever know. The squished remains of strawberry cream cheese tart, a small delight. He rubs the cream between his fingers before rising just as quickly, holding out his hand for a napkin. It appears within a second. He turns on his heel, glaring eyes scouring the crowd, before landing on an older man.

“You! Who ran across here!?”

“Uh! I have no clue, your—your majesty.” He gives an embarrassed, clumsy bow, keeping his eyes glued to the ground. “Then you tell me?” The Queen looks at another, a young woman, who automatically stiffens her posture, face paling.

“A-a man! A young man. With—with a wooden basket and red cape.” The crowd nods along eagerly.

“In which direction?”

Multiple hands point towards the alley, all in fear to face the Queen’s wrath. With a single snap, five card soldiers appear by his side. “Search for the one with a red hood. Such disrespect shall not be tolerated.” There’s a chorus of ‘yes! your majesty.’ Yet not a soul moving til the Queen re-asummed his position upon his horse. “We will resume! While in search of this Red Hood!” His voice is thunderous, and as if nothing happened, everything returns to normal.

══════ ♡ ══════

The leaves crunch beneath your feet. As you continue your long trek, the path is winding and bumpy, covered in wild leaves and branches, the cobblestone hidden beneath the foliage. The basket sways within your hand as you walk and wander along the familiar path. The cool breeze flutters your crimson cloak, and you pull the hood to cover your head and protect your ears. Wishing to have worn pants instead of trying to be cute with your red shorts and white knee-length socks.

The Queendom is never cold, unless the Queen desires cold weather.

It always remains at the perfect temperature, always a warm summer breeze and a perfect summer day. And as you venture deeper into the woods and further away from the Queendom, the cobblestone path slowly crumbles and slowly turns to dirt. You stop at the threshold, glancing behind you. Something about today seems different.

You hope it’ll be a good day.

You venture into the woods.

══════ ♡ ══════

“Ruggie. I’m heading out. Ill be back.”

He lets out a low yawn, stretching his muscles as he walked towards the cave entrance, not giving Ruggie, his right hand, a chance to respond, leaving the hyena beastman to do whatever it is he’s doing. He pushes past the thick vines of the cave, leaving the warmth of the cave and giving a shallow nod to a young wolf beastman who currently was guarding the large camp, with the others like him. “Ill be back before dawn.”

“It’s noon? And the Queen and his guard is hunting today. Far from us, but still. Are you sur—” The lazy king gives a short wave, swatting away the beastman’s concerns, stifling another yawn, leisurely wiping tired tears from his eyes, while the wolf opened his mouth to speak.

“Jack!” The duo looks towards the urgent voices. Two young beastmen, a young tiger and an older bear, both you jogged frantically, seemingly having to run across the majority of the temporary camp. They slow to a stop, giving a quick bow to their pride leader before turning to Jack.

“The Queen’s Knights. Theres five of them! Theyre asking for you presence!”

“Of course. I’m on my way. Leona.” Jack turns to their sleepy leader, only to find the place where he stood empty. He’s brows furrow, before quickly giving up and motioning for the two to lead the way.

The Queendom of Roses and the Pride of Kingscholar. While the Queen occupies the Northern woods, the Kingscholar current occupies the East portion. Over months of arguments and fights, the Kingscholar Pride has been slowly forced to the outskirts and south, while the Queendom slowly takes over the North and East.

Jack and the two beastmen run side by side, running towards the end of the camp, coming across the five poised card guards. They all sit on white pristine horses, not moving an ounce as Jack slows and straightens out his white button-up shirt. “Where is Leona Kingscholar? We shall only speak to one of authority.” The voice is muffled by his thick metal helmet, clasping to his reins and swords.

“He’s away. What you need can be spoken back to him.” Jack crosses his arm, keeping a scowl upon his lips as the knight scoffs.

“I shouldn’t expect more from your kind,” Jack clicks his tongue but doesn’t speak, letting the knight continue, “There’s a human boy in red. He has ruined the Queen’s sendoff and thus must receive punishment. If you find him, you know best to hand him over immediately.”

“I have no such obligations.”

“Right—” You can hear the confidence in his voice, as he shifts the reins, getting ready to move, “It’s only best to consume your meat fresh. I hope you don’t get red fabric between your fangs, wolf.”Jack gives a low growl as the horse becomes spooked, rushing over, earning a yelp from the knight and gasps from the other silent four. They watch the group ride off into the forest, before letting out a huff.

“Jack. What should we do?”

The tiger beastman speaks first, which earns a thoughtful sigh from the wolf beastman. “Nothing. I’m sure Leona will find the boy before we do. Continue as you were.” Jack turns on his heels, rolling his shoulders as both boys shout and eager ‘yes’. This camp is only temporary until they reach the eastern mountain’s summit, and beyond that will be the savannas once you cross the mountains. Something Leona has been avoiding for the longest time.

══════ ♡ ══════

The farther you walk, the darker the woods get. Yet the twisting and winding path doesn’t lead you astray, a path in which you’re acquainted with. And as the trees grow closer and the leaves block the sun, it feels colder, as luminescent mushrooms and flowers that grow alongside the path glow in hints of blue and yellows, give you little light, while pollen that glows a soft purple flutters through the air. It’s absolutely enchanting, with towering thick trees and small sections which sunlight peeks through, highlighting the vibrant green plants and bushes. You hum softly, playing different games as you walk, occasionally eating one of your grandmother’s snacks.

“Youre quite far.”

You screech, nearly jumping out of your skin at the new presence of a voice. You look around and see no one. Your heart pounds against your ribcage. After a few moments, you left out a huff, slowly calming yourself.

“Especially during the Tyrant’s Hunt,” There’s a low chuckle that sends shudders down your spine and you look around frantically, “He might very well mistake you for a deer.” A rock zooms past your head, barely missing you and striking the tree behind you. Your body stiffens.

“Can you not speak?” It’s taunting and drawn out and you shiver as if ghost hands caress your body.

“What do you want—?”

“Now that is the question,” The voice lets out a low hum, and you hear the shuffling of plants, “I am quite hungry.”

You get a horrible feeling, and nearly trip, as something, or a someone, bolts through the thicket. A lion beastman. Before you can react, nails digging into your shoulders, and the new weight forces you to fall back, and momentum pushes you and him to roll over yourselves. Until you’re once again on your back, with the air from your lungs. Your eyes fly open, staring into amused deep emerald green eyes. You wince at the feelings of nails digging into your shoulders, close to breaking your skin and making you bleed, but he doesn’t. Only giving you the sensation of nails breaking skin. Your heels dig into the earth as you desperately try to regain your breath.

“Oh… Dont look like that. You act like I’m going to eat you. Well,” His hands move from your shoulders, letting you crawl backwards and away as he rested on the balls of his feet, forearms resting on his thighs as he tilts his head to the side. Eyes trailing you up and down, staring at the expansion of your bare thighs and legs, a low whistle slipping past his lips. “I might. In a more human way.” A shiver rolls down your spine as you use your cape to cover your legs. He visibly looks displeased as he looks at your face.

“Little Red Riding Hood on the run from the Queen.” He hums and youre eyes widen as you stagger to your feet.

“What? I didn’t do anything?!”

“Doesn’t seem that way,” his tail flicks lazily, his finger drawing in the dirt in clear boredom, “you somehow made the little tyrant mad.” He stands and you step away, he makes no move toward you. Green eyes gazing around the forest before stopping and landing on the path, in the direction in which you came. You follow his gaze and when you look back, the lion beastman is extremely close, his nose brushing against yours. You jump away and he rests a hand on his hips, while the other holds out your forgotten basket.

“I would get going little red. Unless you want to be headless.”

You take your basket and glanced the path, you could hear the pounding of hooves. You grimace before turning around, sharing one more glance at the beastman before darting down the path, back onto the road to grandmother’s house.

══════ ♡ ══════

There’s six. Six horses, five knights, one tyrant.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, kicking up dirt and letting out a yawn, he was pretty hungry. Maybe you’d and your grandmother might make a good snack after he’s done here. He counts the seconds before the Tyrant comes into view, an ever-permanent scowl upon his youthful face. He’s pristine and upon seeing Leona, he ordered his soldiers to stop and with ease slides off his horse and marches 10 steps before glaring at the Lion Beastman.

“Queen’s rules dictate that youre not allowed within the northern forest on Tuesday afternoons. In all honesty, I should send you and your pride further east for such disrespect of the Queens’s rules.” His words are venomous, speaking precisely that has his knights flinching even if the words weren’t for them.

“It’s Tuesday? I had no idea. Oops.” Using his pinky finger, he cleans out his ear with a bored expression, earning a harder glare as the Queen struggles to remain calm.

“No matter. Do what you want. I have more pressing matters.” He holds out his hand, and immediately, a parchment scroll is placed within his hands. The Queendom of Roses has always been the most efficient and quick. Undoing the rolled parchment and holding up the paper, your face was drawn most beautifully, a perfect reflection almost.

“Pretty isn’t he.” Leona furrows his brows, watching the Tyrant marvel at the photo, his nose scrunches in disgust.

“What are you on, Riddle?” Gasps and quick inhales come from the knights, yet the Queen doesn’t seem to mind, only few can call him by his name.

“If you must know. He disturbed my send off, and I assumed he was some ruffian. But to now see a drawing of him. He is quite cute and I am in need of a King,” He tilts her head with a gleeful grin, that seemed misplaced and lovesick, “Though I will have to break him in, make him more obedient. But I’m sure it’ll be worth it.”

“You truly are sick.” Riddle face morphs from love-struck to angry, rolling up the parchment delicately, before clearing his throat.

“I suggest you go. Unless—” A arrow shoots past Riddle’s head and grazes the fullness of Leona’s cheek before striking the tree behind him. Green eyes widen a mere fraction, and the tyrant beholds the tiniest smile. The card soldiers werent mere decoration, yet they arent that smart either. One of them must be a skilled huntsman.

“You know what I am capable of. I hate to have to make you my target instead.”

The leader of his pride rolls his shoulders lazily, with his thumb wiping away the blood on his cheek. “Absolutely. Id hate to make you angry. Know if you’ll excuse me, this lion is quite hungry.” And without another word, the lion stalks into the unknown of the woods.

══════ ♡ ══════

The path to grandmother’s house seems a lot longer than it usually does. Usually you’d be at her tiny cottage within an hour or two, yet it feels like days since you entered the woods and encountered the lion beastman. As if the forest was alive, living, breathing. As if the path beneath you were snakes whose bodies twisted and turned, knocking you off your feet.

You land with a hard thud, shaking your head. The forest is darker than before. How long has it been? You know the path and you know it well yet; you search your surroundings lazily, feeling as if you were submerged in thick oil, and the word seemed muffled. You spot vibrant red mushrooms that seemed to inflate before releasing a thick white gas. Hallucinations. They’re carnivorous mushrooms, but they’re never active during the day, nor on the path. Theyre new. As if purposely planted, but that’s ridiculous.

And it couldn’t possibly be night.

No.

You struggle to your feet, gripping the basket and meandering.

Walking.

Walking.

Walking.

Walking.

Walking.

Walking.

Walking.

Until a beacon.

Off to the side of the path, nestled in between two large trees, if you walked further down the path you’ll come across the small cottage village, with her golden porch light, was your grandmother’s house. With her stone walls and wooden roof were covered in moss and mushrooms, while her red painted door was visible. You pick up your pace, stumbling occasionally as you reach her rickety wooden porch, a wide grin upon your lips as you knock on the old door.

“Grandma!” You call through the wood, yet no reply. You grab the gold doorknob, turning it and slowly pushing the door inside, letting yourself in.

It’s the same as you remember, with the fireplace on, with fresh logs. There was no collection of dust, and the couch looked recently sat on. Her throw blanket and decor pillows were out of place. You close the door behind you, slipping off your shoes, and placed the basket on the dining room table. While undoing the strings of your cape and calling out to your grandma. You move deeper into her home, before reaching her bedroom. You knock.

“Oh, darling! I’m feeling quite sick, but come in. Come in.” Her voice sounds the same, and your tense shoulders drop, as a smile spreads across your face as you open the door. Only to find her bed empty and made, with the window wide open. You step further into the room, looking around, before you hear a soft click and you spin around, only to find the lion beastman from before. He isn’t looking at you, but instead squeezing a small bird.

“Mimic birds are quite useful. Able to mimic to the voice of anyone and anything once they hear it.” He releases the bird, and it frantically flies out the window. You step back. “You—My grandma!” You suck in a panicked breath and the man only shrugs. Striding his way towards you, his hand moving faster than you could comprehend to grab your face and squeeze your cheeks.

“What do you think—” His free arm slides around your waist and forces your close, you try to push him away, “I did. Maybe I ate her. Gobbled her up like a big bad wolf,” He faux pouts before clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes in personal annoyance, “Or lion, that fits better doesn’t it.” He shakes your head aggressively, speaking like a mother would to a child when they’re fussy,

“Maybe ill eat you up. Wouldn’t you just like that—” He lets you break away with a laugh, watching your glare, and he tilts his head and eyes moving out the window.

You can hear horses.

ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.

[theodora3022]

Efforts

Genre: Yandere/Dark fic/Horror

Rollo Flamm x gender neutral Reader

Summary: As much as Rollo Flamm loves a challenge, he only has so much patience towards you, the object of his endless affection/obsession. 

Author’s Note:

This one is for all of  my friends (yeah you @187-mg) that love this freaky man. What can I say, those who claim to be the pious and holy, are often secretly the most perverted and repressed. This belongs to the same series as the Malleus “steal someone else’s partner”.  Not proof read!!! Be warned for my incoherent grammar!!!

Word count: 1.7k

Content Warnings: MENTIONS of starvation(willingly on reader's part) Canon divergence, mild nsfw, overall just awful*cough yandere content, Rollo is his own warning! 

Disclaimer: This is NOT healthy love and is MEANT to make you feel uncomfortable! 

By clicking the READ MORE you are assumed to have read the content warnings above.

Hard work produces results, no matter how distant one’s goal might seem. 

Rollo Flamm likes to think of himself as a man who applies that respectable rule in his everyday life. To him, being respectable is the basic condition for him to reach his goal. Of course, there is another rule: only strike at the right moment, which Rollo used to hold himself to, but he has failed on it recently.

The prefect of Night Raven College, who for sure has enchanted him with evil magic! Worse, they dare to claim to be a magicaless person? 

What urge, what dissatisfaction! These intense, sinful emotions have been preventing him from sleeping at night, making him lose focus during lectures and meetings. The burning desire is practically eating him up from the inside, in Rollo Flamm’s every waking and sleeping moment. In his eyes, you are the culprit of his suffering. Although you appear to be none the wiser, still greeting him with a smile and kind words. 

It was only later when he found out you had promised yourself to another, way before meeting him, that Rollo Flamm stilled his maddening heart rate for a bit. 

So, it has been your natural charm all along. Dangerous individuals like you cannot possibly be permitted to roam free in this continent. Not anymore now Rollo Flamm, the one who understood the legacy of the Great Judge the most, has a say in the matter. 

All of Night Raven’s students are losing their minds over the disappearance of their dear friend. Even Grim, who often acts nonchalant about your well being, is beside himself. Rollo Flamm offered the group almost unlimited access to Nobel Bell’s campus grounds; search parties were dispatched daily, only to return with little results. They are still grateful for the Student Council President’s support, as they should. 

Almost unlimited access, which does not include private quarters of Rollo Flamm. Not that anyone would dare, or bother to look there in the first place. 

You tried screaming, pouding the door for hours, but all it ever does is make you dehydrate faster. Convinced he placed a magic barrier over his living quarters, you ceased the fruitless labor. 

Grim must be so worried! What about others? Oh, and him… you cannot imagine the sadness he must be going through right now. Although you are trapped in this windowless room behind a bookshelf, your sense of time is not yet lost, being able to realize the passing of days by counting three meals per day. Those scrumptious meals went cold, untouched, and you only drank the water from the tap in the adjacent washroom knowing it was not as clean as the water in mugs on the trays, but you are not willing to give in an inch more than necessary . 

The stubbornness was endearing at first, so were your glares of hatred. Even though he is not accustomed to feeling such a way, he labels these bizarre feelings as ordinary. Rollo has read and heard about how when you are in love, everything the other person does will be filtered through a rosy stained glass.  But Council President Flamm worries for your health after a while, and he does not wish to force food down your throat(as for other things…that’s for later). 

The bell rang six times, and Rollo snapped out of his concentrated state, his mind wandered to what those on kitchen duties have to offer today. Maybe you would finally nibble on something today. A small blot of ink dripped off his quill due to its tiled state, and he had to suppress the urge to curse out loud. Knowing you are in the next room makes Rollo’s lips curl upwards, calming him,  and he does his best to finish up the bothersome task at hand so he could spend time with you. 

He had almost finished writing that Headmaster Crowley one out of many reassuring letters, about how he is doing anything in his power to help find the lost prefect of NRC. It is amazing how far a few words of praise and sweet lies can get with that crow. Sealing it with a wax seal, he tucks it away into his outing robe, to have it sent out first thing tomorrow morning. 

There you are, in that corner cot, back against the bed frame, all defensive hugging your knees close to your upper body. You never acknowledge Rollo when he comes in, set the silver tray on the nightstand; only shooting him angry glares when the tall man pushes you to have some of those tartiflette. 

“Still not willing to touch your food? This kind of pathetic act is beneath you, my love.” Sitting down on the other edge of the bed, Rollo scoops a spoon full and brings it to your lips. “How wonderful it smells, aren’t you famished? Just open.”  

My love? How dare he refer to you like that. This crooked being has no clue what love is. For the first time since the start of your captivity, you managed to make direct eye contact with him. “No, leave me alone!” Pushing the spoon away with much force, you panic a bit after noticing it gets knocked out of rollo’s slender fingers, producing a horrifying noise on floor tiles. Previously you dealt with similar situations with dead silence, and Rollo never insists too harshly, exiting with a sigh to leave you to your own devices in this makeshift prison.

But he is right. You do need food, and you are scared how good it smells, how dangerously close you were to opening your mouth to that spoonful of tartiflette just now. 

To think you would obey him. No, you will not give him that. Despite your logic telling you to accept the nourishment, you cling to what’s left of your autonomy like a drowning individual to a small wood chip floating on open seas. 

Seeing how you turned to face the wall again, the already shaky patience of Rollo Flamm leaves him all at once. Does he mean less than nothing to you? Do you hate him this much, to the point of hurting yourself to hurt him? Did that swine who you look to so longingly taught you this? Whatever it is, Rollo does not think he can suffer to see you in this state any longer. 

Before you get a grasp of what has transpired, Rollo is standing beside your end of the cot, towering you with his large form. Perhaps the reduced senses from hunger is to blame, you fail to realize how he always has his overly decorated staff with him when he comes to see you.

Rollo is done with humoring you, and you are making your best efforts to hide your fear of what he could do to you. He has not done anything despicable to you yet, other than denying your freedom, but you had enough time to analyze all those traces of his sickening fantasies he hides behind this constructed affable facade. 

You do not want to see what is underneath, not ever. But what you want does not matter to him now. “Still thinking about him? I am your master now, and I order you to forget about that damned person. Where do you think these acts of defiance will get you? Out of here?”

He exclaims while using the metal staff to lift your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. There are unmasked flames of anger in Rollo’s eyes, where usual calmness and feigned friendliness have been. 

Coldness of the metal almost got a shiver out of you, you struggled to not let him have the satisfaction of getting your reaction. Screw you, Monsieur Flamm, you want to yell and slap the one in front of you, the selfish monster that took you away from your friends and loved one. However you are powerless against Rollo, and your senses are not as sharp as they were when you are fed and happy. 

Rollo Flamm’s heart clenches a bit when he sees tears circling in your eyes, and how much effort you are making to not let them fall. Crying, you should not be like this,you should be smiling with admiration at him. Yet you leave Rollo with no other option. You are making him act cruel with you, because you refuse to listen, to be good. 

The noise of the staff falling to the stone floor was similar to that of the spoon, it was the last thing you heard before he forced his hand on the back of your head, and covered your lips with his own. His lips are of feverish temperature, and the way he does it is too rough; practically hungrily devouring you while you are the one who went on days without food. Kissing is supposed to be a romantic gesture, shared by couples in love, in moments of intimacy. There was no romance in that kiss, at least not to you. What you do feel is Rollo Flame's strong sense of entitlement, the desire to have you all to himself, with a mixture of unknown frustration. You shut your eyes, not wanting to take in the visuals of what is happening. 

After what feels like eternity, he lets go of you. You are so focused on catching your breath…that you failed to notice how much the man is savoring the sight of you panting rapidly with flushed cheeks. 

Only he can see this sight. No one else. Thought of seeing this everyday puts Rollo in a state of frenzy, as if he is not in already when he “falls in love” with you. 

Grabbing your hand that attempts to wipe your mouth clean of traces of him, Rollo whispers threats into your ear the same way a lover whispers sweet nothings. 

“Listen now. You will open your mouth when I feed you, understand? You and I both know defiance will do you no good. If you are good, you can have anything you ever wanted. But you will have to obey.”

Pulling your frozen body into his arms, Rollo starts to plant tender pecks on your cheek, the tenderness you would expect from someone who claims to be head over heels for you. 

“I don’t wish to harm you in any way. Quit making things harder for the both of us. Accept me as your one and only, we will live happily together.” 

No, you will not. It does not matter. Your efforts are in vain, it was worthless from the start. Rollo Flamm has got the upper hand from the very beginning. As the helplessness of your situation finally dawned on you, you did not try to resist when the monster kissed your tears away. 

[inkblot22]

(PS I don’t actually know the source material for idia I just stumbled upon one of your fics while looking at FFXIV Yandere fics so sorry if this sounds OOC)

I’m not super creative but what do you think might actually be Idia’ routine with his darling? Does he fall into any routine, does it change a lot?

Have a wonderful day (and happy late bunny day!) 🫶

I actually am of the opinion that this is a very creative thought! You should give yourself more credit. I like to idealize the day to day life, but it never occurred to me that writing it down might be a good idea. On that sentiment, I think maybe Vil or even Leona would have a better day to day routine. Dividers by @/cafekitsune

Also, wow, what a pipeline, FFXIV to twst?? You've got good taste lmao welcome to my blog.

I'll put this under the cut, and I'm also not promising that this will be very good. I use the 24 hour clock. I am constantly getting told irl that American people don't do that, but I'm evil, so I'm putting the times in 24 hour clock format.

TW for mentions of noncon, coercion, captivity, someone keeping someone else awake, a hint of Idia being an asshole

+ Idia doesn't really seem like he has much of a set schedule, but Ortho absolutely does and Ortho is lowkey kind of bossy, so...

+ Yeah uh, Idia's partner is absolutely out of luck. Idia likes night gaming a lot, and he gets loud, so good luck sleeping. Idia himself goes to bed late and wakes up whenever the heck he wakes up. He could go to bed at 0300 in the morning and wake up again at 0700.

+ As his kept partner, the schedule is a little more normal, like I said. Ortho doesn't really need to sleep from what I understand, (I haven't read all of book 6, no spoilers or else I WILL temporarily block you) but it's silly to imagine that he doesn't wake up or attempt to wake up everyone else around him as early as 0600.

+ After waking up, Idia will eat breakfast. I think it'd be delivered usually since Idia and his partner are basement dwellers, one by nature and the other by force. After breakfast begins work...

+ Or procrastination. Idia flip flops between extreme focus on what he should be doing and what he should not be doing. He manages to get his schoolwork done, but more often than not, he's asking his partner to cuddle up and watch a movie, drama, or his fingers flying across the keyboard. Idia will not ask them to cuddle if he is doing schoolwork or virtually attending classes.

+ I like to think that he smells smoky, on account of the flaming hair, and he runs hot, so prepare to SWEAT. In the case his partner doesn't really want to hang out with him, he will usually sulk and only occasionally get upset to the point of doing something about it.

+ I don't think he showers every day. I think he's an every other day type of showerer, based solely on him not being particularly active. This means that his partner doesn't have to run on his showering schedule and gets extra hot water on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.

+ By the way, in the case that Idia's darling ever gets peckish, Idia has a snack stash that he proudly pulled out and showed them as soon as they were allowed to wander a bit. I figure they get hungry some time around 1400, especially if Idia is also eating at that time.

+ I think his metabolism is fast, but also a bit odd. He is a young person, and therefore he strikes me as the type to get randomly hungry. If asked very nicely (and with the promise of physical affection in some form) he'd be incredibly willing to make his partner something to munch on when he makes his own.

+ Despite Idia's partner being literally held captive in his room, with all his suspicious items and, worst of all, himself, Idia is about as respectful as a kidnapper can be about demanding sex. He doesn't like to be physically forceful about it, and he often will just jerk off in the bathroom.

+ The reason for this is very simple: If Ortho ever saw Idia having sex with ANYONE, Idia would spontaneously combust. Well, obviously he doesn't know that for certain, but it's a theory that he is not willing to test. He won't even talk about his preferences around his little brother.

+ As far as I'm aware, most people in captive situations do not tend to ask their kidnapper to fuck them unless they're being threatened in some way, but Idia's partner isn't typically being threatened (ignore the shock collar,) so they never ask Idia to have sex.

+ This does not stop Idia from being a whiny bitch about not having sex enough as soon as Ortho is gone for a few hours. The close quarters and sudden advent of a human being who he doesn't mind touching him is a big thing for Idia.

+ Ortho goes on "walks" in a sort of unusual schedule. That is to say that he doesn't have a schedule. If something needs to be picked up, he's tired of Idia not listening to him, he has his own stuff to do, or he just feels like it, Ortho will go out, sharing his location with Idia. From there, Idia will typically calculate how long it'd take Ortho to get back paired with whatever Ortho said he was going to do before he left, and see if he can squeeze in some coerced touching.

+ So. Good luck, Idia's partner. Idia will make a big stink until he gets bored or his partner gives in. His partner usually gives in, based on fear of what he might do alone.

+ Bedtime is somewhat randomized. If Ortho was out, when he comes back and it's any time after 2000, he will very subtly try to get Idia and his partner to start winding down. If both or one ignores him, he'll start getting upset.

+ Like I said, Ortho is kinda bossy. He will nag someone, and the worst part is that he's usually got their best interest in mind.

+On the off chance that Idia decides to go to bed at a decent time, he curls up behind his partner. He runs hot and smells smoky, and at some times it's not the worst thing. Some times.

+ By the way, a lot of this flies out the window in the event that Idia decides to attend classes in person. This is rare, so don't expect it to happen often, but it's not as good as it could be. Ortho goes with him and he locks up any way to reach the outside world, so all his partner has to entertain themselves is his manga collection, or the fun pastime of destruction of property. (This is a very bad idea, and I can expand on punishments later.)

+ In Idia's partner's case, every day is much of the same but just a little different, which makes it hard to keep track of time. The fact that Idia prefers low lighting and no natural light doesn't help this whatsoever.

[twistedgardens]

Kinktober #4

Since there's no confirmed age for Lilia, I don't feel the need to say that he's aged up. He's just a really old man in a very young body.

Content: pet names, somnophilia, oral (female receiving), breeding

Warning: yandere content ahead and all it might entail. Readers are warned that the content contains but not limited to drugging, non-con (non-consent), delusional behavior, somnophilia, forced orgasms, etc. Reader's discretion is advised. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

Original yandere prompt found here by drxwsyni (iris). Not mine.

"Y/N, would you like to join me for tea tomorrow afternoon?"

You were startled by Lilia's question. He came out of the blue in his usual fashion right after lunch. There were a million and one things on your mind. You should have refused, but the temptation of peace and quiet and lovely company proved too strong.

"I'd love to! What time?"

Lilia gave you explicit instructions to come in casual dress, and to leave Grim at home or with a babysitter.

"You look like you could use a break from Grim's...antics. You don't mind keeping an old man company by yourself, do you?" Asked Lilia.

You could have sighed with relief. You didn't mind Grim, and you were close as room mates and friends, but his attitude and ego grated your nerves sometimes. It was like living with the embodiment of chaos, between him, the ghosts, and the occasional overblotted student. Tea with someone more mature, albeit just as eccentric, sounded like a respite from the usual noise and shenanigans that Grim brought along with him wherever he went. It was almost an offer too good to be true!

"I wouldn't mind at all. You're not old at any rate. You seem younger than Crowley even or Professor Trein. Don't be so hard on yourself," you said.

Lilia smirked as if you just said a joke." You know sometimes I think, you're too kind for this place. Much too kind. Crowley takes advantage. How do you put up with him?"

You both laughed.

Lilia took in the scene he crafted. A small table in the garden, secluded from where anyone could see them. The trees camouflaged the table with leaves and sweet-scented flowers. He made sure that the students of Diasomnia would be away, including his own charges. Sebek and Silver would guard Malleus just so Lilia could clear his schedule. Tea and treats and little savories were made by someone other than Lilia, sad to say. As much as he wanted to, Silver was quite adamant that Lilia did NOT make anything the prefect of Ramshackle House was intended to eat. Well, that left Silver plenty distracted to not see the ingredients that went into the tea. Nothing harmful.

The hour arrived. The prefect arrived like an ambassador from a foreign kingdom. Lilia pulled out her chair for her before sitting down himself. His old, old bones felt nimble again. This form of his which he presented to everyone was hard to maintain. Though, it had it's good qualities. For many a human, youthfulness and beauty belied hidden dangers. Humans could be so fickle sometimes unlike you. Lilia never met a human like you. You were full of strange stories about your own world, not too much unlike his own, but to live in a world completely without magic? How painful, how dull. Nothing more would please him than to show you how wonderful magic could be. How it could make your life a dream come true if you'd only let it.

Lilia poured two cups. The fragrance was bitter-sweet with a bit of lemon. He brought the cup to his lips, but did not drink. He watched you do the same. Only that her cup was filled with a little than his. Lilia distracted her with conversation and jokes to keep her from looking at his cup.

"Is there anything you miss about your world, Y/N? Anything back home that you care and miss deeply? Family, perhaps?" Asked Lilia.

You take a bite out of a lemon tart and chew before answering. You shrug.

"I have a few things, family, pets, a job. Being here, makes everything feel so small. Going back, I don't know how I'll be able to reconnect with all of that after being in a place like this."

"Do you miss them, your family and friends back home? Do you think they're missing you right now? "

"I imagine they would. Wouldn't anybody? Would Silver miss you if you went missing one day?"

Lilia nodded. "Family is very important for us, especially the Fae. It is sometimes difficult to conceive children, and many of us are selfish and fickle. Cruel, even. But when we appreciate someone, that kinship lasts forever. It becomes a thorn."

"A thorn? That seems kind of mean if you ask me," you said.

"What would be a rose without thorns? The rose didn't grow up one day and decided to arm itself for no reason. Thorns provide protection. When I say a person becomes a thorn, what I mean is that they become someone who surrounds the other person with caring protection from intruders and thieves. To arm oneself against danger is not a sin or weakness, it is the nature of those who have been hurt before."

"And...have you been hurt before, Lilia?" You asked.

"More times than I can count. More tea?"

Lilia refilled your cup. The tea in the kettle was a different hue thanks to it steeping a little bit longer. Lilia continued to smile though you felt your brain becoming fuzzy. Remembering little details slipped through the cracks. From across the table, Lilia watched your head begin to droop towards your chest and your eyelids flutter close. It was an admirable fight between you and the inevitable sleep that consumed you. Your body slumped in the garden chair, limp as a rag doll.

It took Lilia some effort to carry you from the garden to a secret room he'd been preparing for weeks. Your limbs were all gangly and doll-like thanks to the special brew. The chamber, built entirely of magic, hid behind a wall in an unused room below his. No one would venture to looking inside until you were long gone. One year more, Lilia estimated, he only needed to remain at Night Raven for one more year, just long enough to see Malleus graduate. He would make his excuses and bring the prince of Briar Valley to take his rightful place as ruler. But unbeknownst to anyone, including Malleus, was that Lilia also intended to take you with him.

He laid you out on the canopy bed fit for a queen, for you were royalty in all but name in his eyes. You wouldn't be comfortable waking up in this sort of place if your shoes kept biting into your heels, so Lilia removed them. While he was at it, he took off your knee-high socks as well. Long, slender fingers ran up your legs, stopping only at the knee. His fingers itched like nothing else. Lilia sat on the bed to watch you sleep. You were completely unaware of your new surroundings and situation. You were pliant, unresisting, and so ripe for the taking. You truly didn't know the effect you had on men, did you?

Lilia crawled on top of the bed, on top of you. He placed his knee between your legs, crumbling up the skirt you wore. His arms kept most of his weight off you. Lilia lowered himself to place an innocent kiss on your temple. The scent of your hair and skin drove his senses mad. He kissed lower.

Your forehead. Peck. Your nose. Peck. Your cheeks. Peck. Your mouth.

Your lips he devoured last to savor the moment. Though you could not reciprocate for the time being, Lilia lost all of his patience. Your lips were warm and full of life and sweetness. He kissed you and explored inside your mouth with his tongue. He needed to feel more, more, more.

Lilia slipped the blouse off, then your skirt. His flesh felt like it was burning, so he shed off layers too. He pulled your underpinnings off and laid them aside like treasures. Those might come in handy for him later. Your legs were supple, pliant, and easy to hoist one over his shoulder without you resisting. Lilia rested between your legs and leaving a trail of kissed along your inner thigh. With your pussy uncovered, Lilia licked his lips and turned his attention to you and the bundle of nerves begging to be played with. You didn't make a sound at first when Lilia pressed his face against your cunt nor when he gave it experimental licks.

You tasted better than he imagined. Your body writhed in your sleep as Lilia lapped at your folds and nibble gently on your clit. When he caused you to drip, he suckled on your clit and pumped his fingers inside your wet heat until he felt you squeeze on his fingers. Your back arched off the bed and settled back into the mattress, but you remained unconscious. Your slick juices coated Lilia's fingers and tongue. He sucked on his fingers and hummed at the taste of you. His pants were now too tight for him.

Lilia didn't have the time or patience to pull his clothes off. The least he managed was undo his zipper and pulled down his shorts, leggings, and boxers just enough to release his cock already dripping pre-cum. He aligned his cock up to your cunt and waited only a few short breaths before pushing it inside. Lilia closed his eyes, savoring the moment, as he sank deeper. Your eyelids fluttered but did not open. Your body lurched and writhed as if trying to push off the invader. Lilia's grip on your hips kept you in place. He slowly dragged his cock in and out, building a rhythm.

"I couldn't help myself, little one. You're just so precious when you sleep. All vulnerable. You're so pretty it makes me think you might have wanted this to happen. For me to take you away and make you my own. The next time you wake up, I promise, you'll feel every inch of me kissing you, licking you, suckling on those pretty tits. You'll know nothing else but the pleasure I give you."

Lilia rocked his hips against yours. Your body writhed but still did little else. Your eyes remained closed. You were living, breathing, and warm, so it wasn't like Lilia wanted to fuck you as a corpse. Your heart was what he wanted the most, but for the time being, having your body was second best.

"Just think of it. Our children will be so pretty. Half you, and half me. I wonder if I filled you up this time you'd wake up full and pregnant already? I just want to see that belly grow full. My own sleeping beauty so full and round from my cum seeping inside of you, bearing cute little progeny. Won't that be wonderful?"

Lilia didn't worry about making too much noise with his hips slamming into yours and the bed rocking into the wall. He could be, you both could be, as loud as he wanted. The thought of you laying in his bed back at Briar Valley, dressed in silk and carrying a huge belly. He would still fuck this tight, warm cunt of yours even while you were already heavily pregnant.

“I’ll make you feel so good you won’t even be able to think about anyone else.”

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Lilia chanted in his head while he continued to abuse your cunt. There was too much pent up emotion that he needed to let out before moving forward. You'd be nothing but sore when you finally woke up. Lilia needed to make further preparations. But first things first, he needed to bury himself all the way to the hilt of you and fill you up. Unfortunately for you, Lilia had the stamina for days after waiting this long to get you here.

[messycunt]

Savanaclaw period kink hcs

partially inspired by an ask sent from a good friend that I am working on answering!!!!

I wrote these on my phone lol

you can find something similar w malleus here

cw: afab reader duh, period kink, blood kink, noncon, somnophilia, dacryphilia, manipulation, coercion, panty sniffing,

Being beastmen these 3 would be able to tell when you're on your period wo you having to tell them so i wanted to throw some thoughts out there revolving around that >:3c

Leona:

Lion beastmen don’t go into heat technically, not seasonally anyway so that's one less thing you should have to worry about when it comes to Leona

But you don't need to know that

Keeping you under the lie that he does go into heat monthly and it just so happens to coincide w your period at first as an excuse to keep you as far away from him while you're moody and irritable because it scares him he doesn't wanna have to deal with you

Then it turned into something else…

Sure he feels the obligation to respect you and all that and although any mood swings if any you go through do make him feel a little on edge at the end of the day he is much stronger than you so he really has nothing to worry about

Outta these 3 he's the most likely to bring up the idea of fucking you while you're still bleeding wo easing you into it and probably the only one that would force you if you say no to it

He doesn't care if you think it's "gross" or "embarrassing" or "hurts too much because you are completely sore and achey from the waist down" shut up let him take you

Though your whining does get on his nerves he does think you look prettiest w glassy wet eyes and hyperventilating from sobbing so much

He's gotta fuck you atleast 3 times when he going through his "heat" so you must understand, surely as a future princess you wouldn't want to disregard your soon to be husband's needs would you?

Poor Ruggie btw he 100% is leaving the mess of blood cum and tears for that boy to clean

He would definitely force you to suck him off, eat you out and then make out w you but who doesn't love a strawberry milkshake :3c

all that to say big rude lion man is big and rude who would have guessed

Ruggie:

Being a male hyena means Ruggie is submissive to you in general, whether you're a dominant person or not, so sensing that you're going through your cycle bumps that up to 11

He’s extra cuddly for some reason? Keeps mumbling about how you smell so good and he cant get enough of you

Willing to do any and everything for you

Want breakfast in bed? He's on it

Need something to keep you warm? What about someone instead! He’s an excellent cuddler and he can purr to boot!

Your cramps are bothering you? Well this may sound weird but he knows just the thing to take care of that … just pull your bottoms down, lay back on this towel and let your good ole bud Ruggie take care of the rest.

He would try his hardest to finesse his way into getting you to let him go the whole mile wo making you uncomfortable he doesn't wanna scare you off or anything!

You know he makes for a great service top you wouldn't even have to do a thing! and don't worry about making a mess either if anything leaks out he'll clean it up no problem

If you don't wanna go through with anything penetrative that's ok too, he wouldn't mind settling got a quick 69 and could always let him fuck your thighs just so that you're even and you don't owe him any favors later on ofc!

But you know if you do go through with it he would be sure to make you something realllllly yummy to snack on afterwards

He may or may not have thought about fucking you on Leonas bed and making a huge mess of it but he'd drop dead b4 telling you to your face

Jack:

Jack smells your period coming before you even notice so no need for a menstrual tracking app when this wolfboy is your bf!

Just like Ruggie it's not just sexual to him he feels the need to take care of you in general

Would cuddle you if you ask but still keeps up the tsundere act and it all “tch I’m only doing this cus you kept askin’ ok?” about it but his tail is wagging real hard and he’s quick to shove your head into his chest so you can’t see the huge wolfish grin being so close to you puts on his face

Like I said he wants to do his best to take care of you in his own standoffish way but he does let his horny instincts get the best of him at times

You know that thing dogs do where they sniff your crotch real hard …yea

It's v common to wake up to him shoving his face between your thighs, not even bothering to try getting you undressed, and sniffing you so loud that the sound alone is most likely what woke you

He's not trying to be creepy by taking advantage of you while you're unconscious honest! he just wanted to indulge himself when he knew it would bother you the least that just happened to be when you where asleep don't get mad at him :<

Defo the type to take the panties that you discarded after bleeding through them out of the trash and use them to get off

not even just to smell I'm talking slobbering all over them and wrapping them around his dick typa getting off

If you ever caught him he'd melt into a puppy puddle right then and there

He's a desperate perv not a shameless one ok!! The last thing he needs is for you to think lowly of him!!!

11.16.22 - more

[estcaligo]

Twisted Thoughts: Why each dorm can be dangerous for you

TW: dark content, drugging, poisoning, implied rape, mental disorders, eating disorders, physical injuries, death, many deaths, suicide, slavery, drowning, closed space, murder, etc.

Careful~

Heartslabyul - drugged at a tea party. / Poisoned. / Collared by Riddle and broke your neck because of it.

Savanaclaw- Beastmen. In. Heat. Good luck there. / Just beaten half to death. / Probably eaten.

Octavinelle - drowning in that sea. Definitely not without help. / Scammed and put in a life threatening situation meh. / Drugged at Mostro Lounge. / Slavery aka working at Mostro Lounge without any rights 24/7 etc.

Scarabia - get lost in the desert, die of dehydration or freeze to death at night. / Drugged at a banquet. / (Alcohol) poisoning, it’s a banquet after all. / Bonus: fatal snakebite.

Pomfiore - Eating. Disorders. And. Body. Shaming. Yes, mental tortures can be as harmful as physical. / Death from starvation. / Death by exhaustion. / Most definitely suicide. / Plus you get poisoned of course.

Ignihyde - your automatic door breaks (accidentally or not) and you’re stuck in your room and nobody hears your cries because the walls are soundproof and you die of starvation or commit suicide. / Machine injury. Crushed limbs. Slow and painful death.

Diasomnia - you fell off that fucking bridge and break your spine plus you fell on thorns so it hurts like hell I am sorry. / Got into a fight with some Dia bullies and they killed you with some horrible spell. Ugly death. / Lilia’s food is too cliche so I don’t want to mention it.

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

I'm so glad to have found a blog that writes for twst and does male pronouns. Such good writing too! I'm not gonna lie, I have it bad for Jamil. I love his character. He's so smart and has such a pretty design! If it's okay, could you possibly do something nsfw where he's trying to calm an overbloting mc? The idea of mc trying to be loving and gentle with Jamil while trying to fight off the blot and all the stress that Crowley puts on them just gives me such bad brainrot. I love the idea that Jamil sees them trying to be careful with him even in such a state causes him to realize that he is loved and not seen as just some servant. Regardless, thank you for giving the fandom such good content.

Blot Poisoning

So this didn't really become NSFW is anything it was the tinest bit suggestive and I apologize. If you want to send this again for some gentle monsterfucking feel free.

Read tags for TWS! it is a little dark

Blot poisoning. It threatened to swallow you whole as it coursed through your veins. Veins, now a nightmare black and protruded out of your skin, making deep-dark patterns that spread across your arms and body. How could you even get this? The question in the back of your head died as another pulsing migraine came on. 

Your head throbbed as you held it- now sharpened talons that were once normal nails threatening to dig into your skull. Intrusive thoughts that weren't your own whispered and groaned in a cacophony of harsh sounds. This blot felt like a sentient virus threatening to hollow out your body to puppeteer you.

Kill them. They have nothing but hurt you. They tried to kill you. I am just trying to protect you, can't you see? They've done nothing for us! All they do is use us. They will hurt you again! I can't let that happen. They're going to kill us! Please!

Paranoid delusions and violent answers slurred with the sounds of groaning, creaking, crackling, and scratching ate at you. In a way, they were right. You didn't matter. That is why you were the errand-runner. Easily replaceable. Without a family to mourn you and sue the school or true friends that genuinely didn't care you never had a leg to stand on and defend yourself with. 

Basic needs like shelter, water, and food can be stripped away the second you weren't useful. Your value was never within you but rather what you can do for everyone else. No one else gives a damn either. All you've gotten were judgmental stares and sneers. 

Everyone that knew your situation didn't bother to help. They didn't bother to offer you even the scraps of their food, or bandage for your wounds. You never even got a damned 'Hey how are you?' Even your close friends with the freshmen make fun of you for doing favors so easily, completely ignorant to the true extent of your reasons and suffering. You've been crying out for help ever since you got here and everyone misconstrues your cries for an orchestra of entertainment. You are in a world that isn't your own and suffocates you.

Your body felt numb. There was bile threatening to rise up your throat as you moved your hands from your head to your arms, digging them in and letting out a shriek of anguish and frustration. The monster inside you beckoned and comforted, trying to get you to listen. You want to go home. You want to die.

A knock at the door is mistaken for pounding in your head before it is opened. The Scarabian Vice-Housewarden strolls in. You haven't even noticed during your episode someone else was there. "Yuu– are you…" 

The voice trails off, making you turn around to see him. Him. Jamil Viper. It was a rough start, a very very rough start but just somehow, somehow your pathetic self managed to make friends with him after everything. Somehow you managed to get close to him. Perhaps it was the way he would offer you a meal or wouldn't immediately question you when you take on yet another errand. 

Just basic acts of kindness melted your brain and made you pathetically attached. You craved just the smallest ounce of kindness and grasped desperately for a warm hand. You must have looked so desperate to him, but deep inside after hearing his story, you know how desperate he must be too for the same thing. Misery loves company, perhaps not so much for Jamil. So desperate for a bit of validation you fell in love with someone that shows basic kindness. The feeling seemed mutual with how you both started dating…. A while later to say the least.

You didn't even realize you were staring at him magically, you must look insane to him. Jamil was frozen stiff, shocked expression turning into a forced calm. He recognized the signs of an overblot– hell, he's done it himself, but this looked different.

Your eyes were sunken and glowing, your body looked like it was gonna cave in, and there were all sorts of scratches across your body. The energy around you was menacing and the way your pupils dilated was feral. This was beyond an overblot.

"Yuu… calm down," Jamil took a few careful steps toward you avoiding direct eye contact and trying to seem non-threatening. "I'm not gonna hurt you…" "Jamil, what's wrong with me?" Your voice seemed faint like it was going out. "..." 

He carefully reached out a hand towards your arm, flipping it to see the extent of the damage. The blot was in your system, your veins. His stomach churned at the sight of tangled and visible black veins, pumping poison. Through your body. "Stay here, I'll go get you help." "No, wait! I... I'm afraid to be alone with myself! Please don't leave me! I-i don't know what to do! This thing won't stop until I or the people around me are dead!" 

Jamil closed his eyes. He took out his phone and texted for help, informing your group of friends about your situation. From there it was time to soothe, and step through your blot.

****

It has been a week. Most of the poison has been flushed out of your system. Chances are this will stay within you for quite some time, the doctor said. 'It was festering for a while, you have a lot of self-control to have not given in' they said. You shut yourself off from visitors. You didn't feel like dealing with Crowley or seeing anyone right now. Even now you looked over at your nearly broken phone, cracked screen flashing every minute or so with people asking if you were okay for once in your life.

You needed to see Jamil. That wasn't very cool of you at all to let him see you like. To put your life in his hands. You wanted to apologize, maybe even break things off with him. Your body was fine, and the doctors even encouraged you to go out for a walk when you felt safe.

Informing them of your walk during the evening, they gave you a pass and you slipped out in your hospital gown and pajama pants. Your grippy socks made sticky noises as you walked off to the hall of mirrors.

So far, undetected. Not many students were out, and the ones who were simply didn't care. Scarabia was surprisingly scarce for once. You assume Kalim knew it would be inappropriate to throw a party after hearing about what his friend went through. 

Jamil's door was right in front of you. You knocked softly and stood there for a few moments. What do you do? You scratched at your head for a moment before the door opened in front of you. Your lover stood there, completely shell-shocked for a moment. You used that as an opportunity to slip in and shut the door, not wanting anyone to be seen.

Now you both stood there. Jamil gawked at you and you looked nervously at him before the words came to you. "I wanted to apologize for all of that… I didn't- I mean— I'm sorry. You shouldn't have had to deal with that, no one should have. I should have just dealt with it on my own. If you want to break up I under-" "Y-you fool."

Jamil's voice shook and he held onto you tightly, allowing tears to roll down his face. "Do you know how worried I was?! You were taken away for a week with no answer to if you were okay or not– knowing you were suffering like that for so long??" Jamil's voice grew hoarse.

"Then having to realize just everything that you've done." Jamil pulled away, holding your face in his hands. "I was scared I was going to lose you because I realized something. You saved my life too. You saved so many lives from so many overblots, you're just— and I" Jamil trails off again, and you hug him close to you. 

"I'm sorry for never checking on you. You seemed so strong and I was… weak. I didn't know you needed me and I thought you were okay, and I was wrong but I realize that now. I went in to check on you and I was almost too late…" Jamil shakily pushed you away and regained his composure, his eyes were clothes as he stood there, controlling his breathing. After what felt like minutes he opened his eyes and look at you.

"I... I didn't mean to…" You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him close just standing there for a few moments. "I missed you," your voice a whisper and you squeezed onto him. It took a moment before Jamil returned the hug. "You… ugh.."

"Just don't ever do that again…" Jamil muttered. You spend the rest of the night in each other's embrace, catching up with each other, memorizing each other's bodies, and locking lips. The blot was still in your system and you can feel it coursing through you once again, inky tentacles under your skin threatening to burst out of your back…

But perhaps you'll save that for another night when you get used to your new abilities along with these new urges. You still had much to use after all. Claws, a long tongue, some fangs. Perhaps this poisoning wasn't so bad…