#Feral Moons delightful hunt

[sourtomatola]

Jk Jk @feralmoonlight

No but really, this is incredibly self indulgent and I couldn't help but think of this post that caused this post while writing this

Hungry Moon and masochist reader

AO3 link

You awake from your nap and stretch. Moon had put you to bed earlier and you slept very well. You looked around the room he had left you in and listened. You could hear the breathing sounds.

He was still in the room.

You looked around and found the source. Despite not having Lungs, Moon had a tendency to emit a heavy breathing sound. His eyes glowed in the corner he stood in, staring at you hungrily. His frame is in a slightly hunched position, like a cat looking at something they’re preparing to pounce on.

You felt shivers run through your body. You love it when he wants to play.

“Prey…” He addresses you, causing goosebumps to form on your arms. He only used that pet name for you when he was hungry.

The thought made your mind race with excitement.

Your eyes wash over him, noticing drool dripping from his large sharp toothed grin. His long tongue whipped out and ran over his lips as he sized you up, as if trying to determine if he could swallow you whole or not.

You put your feet to the floor, looking directly at him. “Good morning Moon.” You say innocently, as if you hadn’t noticed the fierce predator-like look in his eyes. “I didn’t see you there.”

“You’re awake so soon…how cute.” He purrs, but doesn’t move from his spot. He’s resisting his urges. You can tell.

That just won’t do.

You casually scratch at your neck, pulling the collar of your shirt away from it to let him get a full view or your beating pulse. His heavy breathing gets louder, a slight growl accompanying it. He knows you’re teasing, testing him and his resolve.

Your heart starts to pound at the sound of his voice growling your name in an animalistic tone. You consider ignoring him, just to see what he’d do. You look up casually and look at him innocently. “Hmm? Yes Moon?” You asked cutely.

He is no longer standing, he has one hand on the floor. He really looks like he could break and attack you at any second. He looks wild, starving, and like you’re a feast he has been waiting days for.

“Moonie? Is something wrong?” You ask innocently.

He doesn’t answer right away. He stares, his eyes unblinking and the red lights shining brightly, solid and strong, like a lighthouse. “I’m…fine my prey.” He lies.

He is still resisting. You’ve almost got him to break. Your face is heating up from the thought of what he will do when he does snap. Will he hold you down? Will his grip on your arms cause bruising? Your heart could hardly take the anticipation. He needed one more push. And you knew just the thing for it.

You start to back away to the door slowly. His posture tenses up in anticipation. He knows what you’re planning. He wants it just as much as you do. He adjusts his footing slightly as he watches you. Every bit of his attention is on you, like a laser bearing holes into your soul. His tongue slowly runs across his bottom lip, bleeding drool down his faceplate.

“Do you like the idea of chasing me?” You whisper in a sultry voice. “Running me ragged until I can’t run anymore, holding me down and eating me alive?”

He lets out another feral growl, you can see him swallow in anticipation. You loved this. He loved this. Your teasing, your innocent acting.

You bite your lip in a teasing manner as you slowly reach for the doorknob and push the door open.

He stops moving entirely, the heavy breathing cease and all is silent. The air is heavy with anticipation of the quiet that fills the room. You can’t even hear his usual calming clicks and whirls from his inner mechanisms.

Finally, you take a deep breath and begin to run down the hall. You knew you couldn’t outrun him. You never could. But that’s what made it fun. Running as hard as you can, where will he catch you?

Almost immediately you hear the sound of animatronic footsteps chase after you. Your heart beats faster, the excitement and fear rushing through your veins. You could hear him. He was right behind you, about to pounce.

You turned the corner, and that is what ended the hunt. Just as you made it around, Moon used the wall as a springboard and threw himself on top of you, causing you both to skid on the smooth cement floor. You squealed in shock and rolled onto your back to meet Moons hungry gaze.

“I’ve caught you, my prey…” His voice rumbles through his chassis that’s pressed against your chest. The vibration made you shiver. His hands hold yours down as he watches the blood rush to your face. “Little prey~ I could just eat you up~” He giggles wickedly. Drool drips from his teeth, his tongue flickers out to lick it up, his lips now moist.

You let a whine escape your throat. Now he’s teasing you, he knows what you want. “M-moon…” You whimper softly.

“Mm, you look tired…maybe you should sleep, my prey.”  He smirked and leaned his faceplate into your neck. You tipped your head back, trying to give him better access. You could hardly take it! You wanted to feel his teeth sink deep into your flesh. You ragged breathing had you twitching against him as he set his lips to your skin.

He gave your neck a simple gentle kiss, before running the front of his teeth on your skin harmlessly. You squirm underneath him. His taunting is too much. You feel his drool drip into your hair as he sniffs around your flesh. He inhaling your scent and drinking it in.

“M-moon…!” You whine louder. “P-please!”

“Yes…Darling?” He giggled and ran his long tongue down your neck, making your breath hitch. “Do you need something? A bedtime story? A drink of water?”

You squirm and whimper. “P-please…stop teasing…” You said, arching your back into him.

“Teasing?” the bot asks innocently, his voice husky and irresistible. He knows exactly what he’s doing. What you want. He wants to hear you say it. His grip on your hands is tight, cause minimal pain, but enough you suspect they may bruise. “What do you mean my prey?”

“You want my blood don’t you? You’re hungry…” You ask, your face starting to heat up more from having to say it out loud. “P-please…bite me…”

“Hmm? Do I get to choose where?” He snickered and held one of your hands to his mouth, licking your fingers.

A violent shiver erupts through you at the sensation. “Mooon…” You whine pitifully, making him chuckle darkly. He looked over you for another second, sizing you up and letting a little more drool drip down your neck.

“You want me to taste you that bad?” He giggled and nuzzled his faceplate into your jawline. “It is so tempting, your blood is delicious. Do you want me to bite you my prey?”

“Yes, Yes! Please Moon, I want to feed you!” You cry out desperately. “I want to feel your teeth in my flesh!” Your hands tighten on his, trying to cling to him. You’re sweating now, the exhaustion from the chase catching up from you mixed with the hot emotions surging through you.

The animatronic finally breaks through your skin with his teeth, letting a little blood drip and mix with his saliva before drinking greedily. His hesitation and care gone now as he ravages your neck.

You cry out and moan loudly, not caring who hears or sees at this point. The pain and pleasure rushes through your body, making you squirm from under him. Shiver wrack through your body with each gulp and suck you hear him make next to your head. You hear him growl and bite again, cause more unnecessary damage.

He knows you love it.

The absolute helplessness of the situation, being pinned to the floor and fed on makes the experience that much more enjoyable. He could do whatever he wanted to you and you’d be helpless to it.

“Oh, isn’t this what you wanted?” He smirked as he kept drinking, feasting on you. “My naughty little prey?”

You’re breathless in trying to respond, barely getting any syllables out as another shiver erupts through your body.

Finally he pulls away before taking too much blood, his long tongue leaving a searing trail of spit as he dragged it over your wounds.

Your breathing starts to slow down as you start calming down. He pulls away a little and looks you in the eyes, his gaze looking calm, kinder. “Have fun?”  He grinned.

You nod breathlessly.

#Feral Moons delightful hunt #fnaf moon #moondrop #Masochist reader #blood thirsty moon #biteing #blood drinking #alittle vore-ish #I'm sorry #this was inspired by a chat with #yandere moon chatbot #It looks so short on tumblr XD #just under 1500 words

[the-world-annealing]

Witnessing Orcs: Literary Tradition (1)

(reviving a long-dead series of posts, introduction here, further posts in the tags or my writing page)

When orcs on a long hunt gather round the fire, when children ask their peers great questions, when a roaming Brakmor must prove himself worthy of a share of meat, it is then that orcs tell their stories. Already I told you the myth of Yurtrus's death, but a poor guide I would be if I allowed it to remain your sole example.

(though a better guide, still, than those humans who cherry-pick accounts of city orcs, and pass on only the most gory and thrilling of stories, so that their readers are led to presume that even in peaceful tale-telling orcs only think of war)

Here then follow a number of tales, gathered from my birth tribe and others, explained where they may confuse, questioned where they might mislead.

The Tales of Rokal the Oaf A great number of these tales exist, with countless variations for each, unified only by their protagonist. Rokal is a foolish, greedy, and incompetent orc, whose actions inevitably end in disaster, and who thus serves as an counterexample of good behavior.

One tale, for instance, describes how Rokal's hunting band raids a small forest town. As his comrades make off with what they can carry, Rokal comes across a large store with a hand-cart in front. Scoffing at his comrades' simple-mindedness, he loads the cart up with all the store's meat and fruit. As he begins pushing the heavy cart homeward, he loudly dreams of the glory that this haul will bring him.

But quickly, his plan is exposed for the foolishness it is. His cart struggles to move over the rough terrain, gets stuck in mud, and is upturned while crossing a stream, forcing Rokal to scramble to right it and recover the food. He falls far behind his comrades, and when a party of vengeful villagers catches up with him, he is forced to abandon his haul and return empty-handed. The other orcs, whose feast just ended, mock his witless scheme and toss him their table-scraps. But Rokal, who is and remains an oaf, has not learned his lesson, and already plots to tame a feral bear, shoot down the moon with a mighty bow, command a fire with whip and chain, or accomplish some equally foolish feat.

The tale of the lost child This is a story told among the children of the tribe where I grew up. I know not whether it is told still, and place it here to immortalize its tellers as much as anything else.

The tale, told haltingly and inexpertly, and never quite the same way twice, speaks of a young orc who wanders too far off, and loses its way back home. While looking for the path-markers that the adults make, it suddenly finds itself facing down a great dragon.

The dragon is a terrible beast; a twenty-feet long limbless serpent, composed entirely of roaring fire, covered in flaky white ash, with teeth black as coal and eyes yellow like the sun (those in my audience who know this to not be what dragons look like, rejoice! you have proven yourself cleverer than a child of nine summers).

It roars triumphantly, for (so the narrator tells us at this point), dragons love the meat of orcs more than anything, but would never dare attack the bold and mighty adults, and so must make do with the odd child that wanders off too far.

The child runs, and the dragon gives chase, approaching closer and closer, its fiery coils scorching the earth and wilting trees as it snakes around obstacles. Already, its terrible maw is slavering at the thought of this delightful morsel, dripping red-hot oil and setting fire to the grass.

In the tale as I first heard it told, the child's mad flight happened to lead it back to the tribe, who at once formed a line to protect it and chased off the dragon with mighty cries and brandished spears. But on one notable occasion, I heard another ending told, which I will share as well.

There, the running child finds not its people, but a thin and deep shaft, filled with cold and clear water. The child dives in, and the dragon eagerly waits for it to surface. After a moment of indecision, the child turns away from the dragon hovering above, kicks its feet, and dives down into the dark waters. Having said so, the child telling the story simply ceased to talk.

This distressed the children in attendance greatly, but no matter how they begged, the tale-teller refused to utter a single word more, and in fact remained silent for all that day and the one that followed. Shortly after, I left for my now-hometown, and thus I never learned if the story was ever concluded.

How bones became as stone Long, long ago, in a time when the oldest trees alive today had not yet even sprouted, Yurtrus god of rot was much stronger than he is today. In that day, though bones were pale and strong, they were things of flesh and corded muscle, and endured but briefly beyond death. A corpse would decay into nothingness and seep away into the dirt within mere days or weeks, leaving the soul within to crawl away, unbound and unfeeling.

The worthy dead were spared this fate, of course. Their souls would be taken by Gruumsh' servants, and join him among the blessed, as they still are today. But the cowards, the braggarts, the kin-slayers: their souls would toss and turn as they withered away, and bemoan their fates and weakness, and suffer the rot of their bodies.

And in his malice, Yurtrus granted those cursed souls a portion of his power, and allowed them to move once more, not alive yet not truly dead. They became frightful and monstrous things, which shambled from their graves to visit their wrath upon the living, for by Yurtrus' will they would not rot so long as they killed and maimed.

The dead ever grew in number, and the orcs of the land despaired, and prayed to Gruumsh sky-father to embrace the unworthy dead, so they would no longer consign themselves to darkness. But Gruumsh refused to bow to such trickery, for to taint his heaven with the unworthy was the worst thing in the world to him.

And so the orcs prayed to Luthic earth-mother, who visited the restless dead as they rose from their graves. And the monstrous orcs bowed to her, for loathsome as they were they knew to honor she from who their souls sprang.

"Great mother!" one croaked. "Why have you come here? Your power does not extend to us, who are grown and dead. Will you admonish us for killing to avoid final death, as all already must? Though it will fill our hearts with sorrow, we will not change our ways, for it is better to live a life of torment than to rot and disappear."

And Luthic's brow furrowed, for there was truth in these words. And so she left the rampaging dead, and traveled beyond the stone, to that dark and sodden place where Yurtrus dwelled.

"Yurtrus Once-Son!" she called out to the corpse-god, whose white fingers snaked through the dirt like worms. "I propose a bargain! Tempt the dead no more, let their bodies lie still, eat of their flesh as you wish! In return, I shall draw upon my own power, and ensure that worthy and unworthy dead alike deliver pale death from beyond the grave. Should I fail to keep this bargain, then may every leaf on every tree wither away, never to return."

And though Yurtrus was mistrustful, he could not see fault in Luthic's offer. Either she would break the terms, and all life would surely die, or somehow she wouldn't, and even the Gruumsh-chosen would be made to kill. And so, the verminous god whispered a word of agreement through his crooked and worn teeth.

At this, Luthic traveled to the heart of a tall mountain, and retrieved an useful kind of rock in great supply, which she cut into many shapes. And in a great miracle, she gifted these carved bones to orcs dead, living, and unborn alike, and did away with the skeletons that they used to possess.

Having done so, she commanded her servants to take the bones of the dead and make use of them as spear- and arrow-points. And Yurtrus, as he watched arrows tipped with orcish bone fly through the air and bring down great prey, could not but admit that Luthic had kept her bargain, for both worthy and unworthy orcs now killed after death.

And this is why bones are sacred to Luthic, why they are hard enduring things, and why they are white. And most of all it explains why orcs must fashion the bones of the dead into tools and weapons, as they do to this day.

Next, I shall share a single tale that has earned some recognition among humans: the Epic of Ilneval.

#witnessing orcs #worldbuilding

[crownedhopelesss]

[  FOREST  ]:          while wandering through a heavily wooded area together, the sender and receiver proceed to have sex in the midst of the wilderness. (Lucas/ivy)

nsfw locations. / open !! @fortunefavours

THE WOLF KING AND queen had been on the mission to hunt down dylan and his pack; the ones that had brought such misfortune and trouble to their own community. of course, there was lucas' own personal vendetta with the wolf and ivy was more than happy to oblige in helping her beloved in seeking that sweet, tasteful revenge. the moon was overhead, shining the light and guiding their path as they followed the tracks. suddenly, the trail went cold. lucas stops dead in his tracks, a heavy sigh escaping his lungs in frustration, ❛ it ends here.... ❜ he informs her, kneeling down to feel the wet mud, hoping to feel some kind of energy that was left behind by any wolf that happened by here but there was none. he stands tall, ❛ as frustrating at this is, we didn't waste any time. we now know they've been heading southbound which leads me to believe they've fled the state. figures. dylan has always been a coward, never been able to face up to his own music ❜ he told her and turns to see she had already stripped naked. he hums in delight to see such a lovely sight; one he'd never get tired of viewing. he could stare at her all day; her body was a work of art... scars, flaws and all only served to create such a masterpiece. ❛ might as well not waste a full moon ❜ he softly stated. he strips his jacket off, dropping it and taking a step closer, then his shirt, a step closer, undoes his belt, and takes a step closer all while locking a feral gaze with her. ❛ remember our first night in the wild ? i do... you look even more ravishing than you did that night ❜ he complimented, now towering over her with his bare chest pressed against hers. he lets his now loose pants drop to the forest floor as he trails feather-like caresses down her arms to her hips. his hand grasps her chin, his hues turning red in an animalistic desire to feel her from inside. all of the sudden, he's completely forgotten what they came out here for and he's more than okay with it. he had plenty of time to exact revenge but never enough time in the world to spend with ivy. a low growl emits from his throat as he swiftly grasps her neck tightly, leaning down to graze his canines against the flesh of her neck, piercing her slightly to taste her. he never says one word; words were unnecessary between them both. in one swift motion, he's on top of her with her back against the muddy floor of the forest, kissing down her body with his hands exploring her hot skin. he finds himself in between her legs, kissing and sucking on her thighs all the while watching every reaction he was able to receive from her. he bites into her then bites another spot on the opposite thigh before finally licking her drenching slit, wrapping his lips around her swollen clit, flicking his tongue in a quickened pace while holding onto her thighs tightly, letting her wrap them around his neck. he could be down here enjoying his meal all night long if he was able to but he didn't want to wait one more moment without being inside of her. he licks up the arousal he was able to emit from her before pulling back and lifting her legs to rest on his shoulders before slamming himself inside of her; letting out a loud groan from the bottom of his throat, growling with his canines fully elongated from lust and hunger. he holds her legs close to his chest as he thrusts in and out of her fast, and hard, the sounds of their bodies colliding echoing in the forest mixed with their moans of pleasure. he kisses her feet then her calves, never stopping his motions, as he watched her writhe from underneath him. a smirk breaks out his face; god, she looked so beautiful when she completely opened up her vulnerability to him, he wanted more of that. it was never enough for him.

#( lucas answered. ) #( answered meme. ) #fortunefavours #fortunefavours: lucas #cw: s.m.u.t.

[ilikemesometaetaes]

Feral

Part Four (M)

•••> Author: @ilikemesometaetaes

•••> Summary: You’ve come to figure out that being the center of everyone’s attention is both a blessing and a terrible, supernatural curse.

•••> Pairing(s): Seokjin / Reader / Taehyung

•••> Word Count: 17.6k [Unedited]

•••> Rating: 18+

•••> Tags: smut | supernatural!au | Two Mates/Interspecies Mates | Seokjin!au | Taehyung!au | Vampire!Seokjin | Werewolf!Taehyung | Human!Reader |

•••> Warnings: smut, blood thirst, aggressive yearning, multiple orgasms, fangs and venom, werewolf knot, knotting, cum bloating, cum stuffing, obsessive sex, feral werewolf, insecure werewolf, murder (Greek Mythology), character death, oral (f receiving), tongue fucking by a six-inch tongue, mention of murder/vampire hunting, mention of war, mention of cancer, mention of slavery, uncontrollable lust, angst, perceived mate rejection, addiction to venom, withdrawal from venom, and a lot of other stuff. You know the drill. If you don’t want to read, don’t. If you’re under 18, don’t.

Taglist: @honeiibeehobi @kimmieloveswho @imluckybitches @openup-yourmind @sweetrenjun @satansleftnut @seoul9711 @mono-kookie @channiespup @melindagrace31 @hodginss @ifntelyinspirit @japzalileo@jooniesdimplesworld​ @craztextae @bigdickdaddysatan @agustdjoon @fangirl125reader​ @no-nottoday @ella-mella @justmewondering-recs @ungodlyjoon @little7bitchh @jiminie-08 @yoongichild @kawaiikiwithefruit @meep-meep @moekoi02 @dariangarcia @junghoseokit @pinknamjoon @jinscharms​ @jimilter @ressjeon @itsgottabeyoo-ngs​ @jeon-junggoop​ @lowlifeoeuvre​ @danyxthirstae01​ @xyahrinx​ @halesandy​ @masterpiecejoonie​ @etherealskzss​ @jeonlovescoffee​ @seanachais​ @muffinminnie​ @azazel-nyx​ @danietoww04​ @btseverafter7​

@lilymarriee @primarybts < won’t let me tag you guys? If you’d like to be on the tag list, send me an ask!

Copyright © 2022 ilikemesometaetaes. All Rights Reserved.

PART THREE (M), PART FIVE (M) -> MASTERLIST

Right before sleep took you, a thought crossed your mind and a weak pulse beat on your clit. It wasn’t strong enough to keep you from going under, but it was concerning nonetheless.

Where is Sir Kim?

“Apollo.” You whispered. “You came.”

The god smiled at you, yet the smile did not seem to wipe the sadness from his eyes, as he materialized from the light of the setting sun. You knew why he was here. You knew why he finally answered your prayer.

His voice was warmth and joy. It was honey and it was the sun on your skin. “Of course, Selene. How could I ignore you now, my moon?”

Your arm was weak to reach for him and you were practically blind to the blood that covered your fingers. The need to touch him was too much to bear. He came to your side elegantly, quickly, and also disregarded the crimson fluid of your body and laced his fingers into your own.

The smile on your lips was weak yet filled with happiness all the same as you felt his light flood your veins. It had been a very long time since you felt the joys of the day as you had felt the pleasures of the night.

Your long night was coming to an end- how else to conclude it than with the True Sun himself bringing you into the beaming rays of his embrace?

“I’d always hoped I would see you once more.” Your lips cracked as you said the words. Your new Lifeblood coursing through your limbs to restore the damage was fruitless; your newfound magic from Ambrogio’s attempt to save you was depleting quickly with the unbridled loss your life had become.

He let out a dry laugh. Forced. Pained. “I am more than delighted to fulfill your wish, my love.”

You coughed again and winced as the wound, cut down the middle of your chest and stomach, pulsed your life into the ground, flowing thick and red.

Ambrogio lay to your side, lifeless fingers threaded into your other hand. His eyes were open, the final, eternal stare fixed on the sky. You mourned his death as you mourned your impending one, the fate of his soul tied with your own after so many years spent with your shared Divinity keeping him alive. His heart beat for you and yours for him- a bond that would sync the stopping of his heart with yours.

Your heart no longer beat, yet the remaining dark magic of Tartarus given by Ambrogio in your last mortal moments left you with a few minutes to bathe in the glow of Apollo on the surface of earth.

“I missed you. For years, I Called for you.” You whimpered as tears managed to fill your eyes, the pain of a mortal lifetime tearing your heart in two. One half still wept in sorrow for the death of your divinity, but the other half grieved for the life you spent without your Sun.

The god frowned, his golden eyes reflecting bits of light through his own tears into that of a rainbow against your skin. “You know the decree, Selene; therefore, you know why it would not be.”

“I know.” You warbled in pain. “But I still prayed for you. Every night, I would give you my prayers.”

“I heard every one.” His eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiled, forcing the pool of tears to spill over his eyelashes and fall down his cheeks. Your soul wept at the sight. “I always listened.”

Your smile dropped as the emotional and physical agony took its toll on you. “Then you know what has become of us.”

“Man.”

So much blame and anger was placed into the word that came from between his clenched teeth. You felt the blame all the way down to where you loved the creation of Zeus. It was a heavy blow to your care for humanity.

“They called him an abomination. My son- he-” You hiccuped. “They called him a monster.”

“Your son was many things.” He reached a hand out to cradle your cheek and you leaned into his touch. “A monster? No.”

You squeezed your fingers around Ambrogio’s cooling ones and babbled in sadness. “He was ours. He didn’t belong to this world. I loved Ambrogio as I love you and Musaeus was born from that. He loves the world as we love him.”

Apollo shifted to pull your head into his lap and you cried weakly at the feeling of finally being held by the other of your love. Your love for Ambrogio was worldly, physical, and real, but your love for Apollo was spiritual, beautiful, and right. Your heart encompassed both loves as one.

“He will live a full, mortal life, Selene. He will be amazing.” Apollo stroked your hair from your face and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead while he gave you the assurances you needed to rest. “Musaeus will never crave blood. He will carry on and he will be strong. He will have children- human children- and he will be happy. He will live a fulfilling life and he will die a peaceful death. I can give your son the world and I will take his call to Tartarus.”

“Good.” You smiled in relief and whispered your emotion into your breath. “Good.”

“He will be missing half of him- the half that calls for Tartarus- as will all of his children and his children’s children. Are you content with that?”

“Yes.” You felt the draw as the dark magic tugged the rest of you down into the fiery cradle of Hades. “Keep him away from these horrors. They are not fit for Man.”

“It is done.” He said. “And I’m afraid your time is almost upon you.”

You chuckled spitefully and gestured to where the sword of silver that killed you and your mate lay. “Who knew Man would be the ones to exact the definition of abominations?”

“There will be more like Ambrogio but there will no longer be any ‘abominations’ for Man to kill over. They will kill over each other and no more.”

“Very well.” You looked up at Apollo again. “Then, may I ask one more thing of you?”

“Anything, my moon. It is yours.”

You felt the tingle of your lost ardor even as you lay dying in his lap. The desire to finally become whole and full with life despite your loss of it. You had your mortality with Apollo’s gift. You had your dark Night with Ambrogio. All that you were missing was your sunlit Day.

“Kiss me.” You whimpered.

There was no reminder of the forbidden this time. No grimace in submission under the decree of Zeus nor words of displeasure with your wish. You had finally spoken your wish to him after years upon years of praying it and were met with the eyes of Apollo’s indulgence.

The god leaned down with only love stretching outwards to caress your body, filling you with the last bits of light that you craved in your soul. With your final ounces of strength and your endmost seconds of life, you lifted your head to finally meet his lips while you squeezed Ambrogio’s hand into yours.

And in your death, you had everything you would ever want in your first- your last- kiss with Apollo, your True Sun.

A tongue dug into your folds.

It laved against your clit, violating and hot with each stroke. You were so out of it that it was hard to process the friction of it against your sensitive skin at first.

Lips sealed over your opening to enclose your cunt from the cold of the room and blanketed it in the wet heat of a mouth. As you perceived your surroundings- including the sounds of slickness being slurped and low groans of approval in a throat- you came to realize that your legs lay spread out and hooked over shoulders. Hands pressed softly into your waist and squeezed.

Your moan was broken and hoarse with sleep, but a moan nonetheless. You opened your eyes to darkness and blinked while the tongue continued to lazily lap against your nub.

The curtains of your window were drawn over it, blocking out the sun with their thickness, and it made your room almost as dark as when the moonlight barely streamed in the night prior. Still, you could see the edges of the curtains where the sun attempted to grapple into the darkness and failed.

You looked down at the mass of hair between your legs as a particular flick of his tongue sent your toes curling and you whining lowly.

“Seokjin,” Your voice cracked as you called his name. He tightened his hands on your waist, digging his fingers in your flesh, and proceeded to eat at you more persistently in acknowledgment of his name.

Your skin still radiated with numbness to the pain and your fingertips, toes, and belly still pulsed with an incredible need for more. With each pass of his tongue from your cunt to your clit, a hot spark of pleasure sent your body into a craze.

A groan reverberated deep in Seokjin’s chest, shaking you to your core when it vibrated his flattened tongue over your entire pussy. Your eyes rolled back and your hands reached blindly for his hair while your joints stiffened from your lack of stretching after just waking up.

A tug on your tether cooled you to the point of mental relaxation, transitioning you from your state of confusion to acceptance of anything to come. You closed your eyes and relished in the feeling from the tether and, hesitantly, you imagined touching it in thanks as you would touch Seokjin.

Fuck, you taste absolutely piquant.

You snapped your head up to look at Seokjin again, only to find his white eyes already on yours and a small smile every time he detached his mouth to take another lick. Your thighs trembled and a deep whine built up in your throat as you began to feel pleasure from his end of the tether.

Can you hear me, little dove?

You looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to process the physical pleasure of Seokjin digging his lips and tongue into you whilst undergoing another sense of pleasure, alien and not yours.

You moved a hand from his head to one of his arms that held you to him, holding him physically as you held him mentally, and tried to bring him closer between your thighs.

Tell me you can hear me, Y/N.

Your breath was stolen as his tongue, long as ever, began to shallowly fuck into your cunt.

“I can hear you.” You whimpered.

Tell me like this.

His tongue shot back further into your wetness, crowding against your cervix as it had done only hours before. You gurgled another moan as you tried to keep your eyes focused on the vampire and adjust to the sensation.

The mental task was heavy and difficult, not what you thought it to be, and you tried to give him your words past the hectic chaos of lust-ridden thoughts that crowded your mind.

Hear you.

Seokjin was happy with your effort. You could feel his happiness alight in your blood, a joy that was colder, older, and much different from your own. You relished in his emotions as his tongue bulled against the opening to your womb again.

You’re so tight. So deep. So fucking beautiful.

You cried out a sob as Seokjin began swirling his tongue around your walls. With the muscle much thinner and more agile than his dick, it became a sensation that was impiously sacrilegious. You laid splayed out and mindless atop your already-ruined sheets while his tongue began to fuck into you with your womb as it’s destination and your legs spread and bound by his arms over his broad shoulders.

You canted your hips toward his face on instinct, your body’s way of hoping that he could tongue fuck you deeper, yet you instantly regretted it when his tongue finally began to breach through and all you felt was mind-numbing bliss- a dangerous sensation when you were hesitant about accepting his bite and full bond.

You scrambled away from him to regain a sense of control but all you succeeded in doing was trapping yourself against the headboard as he followed to return his tongue to its depth. With strong hands, he held your thighs against his shoulders to keep you from moving anymore.

Like a drug, the ecstasy overflowed you when he began a rough rhythm into your most sacred place. It wasn’t human- wasn’t right- yet it was all you could feel as you threaded your fingers into his hair and tugged him into the apex of your thighs even harder to try bringing him deeper. Your body was quickly succumbing to his filthy desire, making it your own.

Sweat dripped down your forehead and temples and your lips went dry as you panted under the weight of the sin taking place. Your womb was not made to be explored; nevertheless, it was becoming his playground to obliterate.

Fuck, I love you. His voice was not audible, yet it was in the form of whispers as your own thought that you looked at him and caught his eyes again.

His tongue poked in and out of your womb with a slow pace to allow you the time you needed to get used to it, but by the time you were accepting the movement in full force- with his venom preventing you from feeling anything but complete love- you were already approaching your orgasm.

Gonna cum, you managed to tell him.

His speed picked up again and you felt his fangs slightly press into your skin while the tip of his tongue pressed through your cervix. You mouth was agape, dry from your heavy breathing, yet no sound escaped in the face of your unbridled pleasure.

Seokjin pulled away suddenly, slipping his tongue out of you, and sat up on his knees. Only then, in the darkness, did you realize he was beautifully naked.

His chest was flushed red and his lips were swollen from the amount of time he spent suctioned on you, however, it was the sight of your cum dripping down his chin and down his chest to his dick that had you crying out for his attention.

“Cum on my dick, baby.”

Eagerly, you shot your hands out to hook onto his shoulders and bring his body into yours. With a hiss, he grabbed his dick, positioned it, and slid into your eager pussy to continue your crescendo into your climax without missing a beat. He dropped his chest to yours once he was molded into your walls.

The vampire only had to pump twice more and rub a circle into your clit before you were cumming around him, sobbing his name and smashing your lips onto his in a hectic fervor.

He came as you did, seemingly releasing after waiting for you, and spurted a solid jet of hot cum into your body. Your stomach warmed again from the heat and your legs tightened around his waist to lock him inside. Unreservedly full with his seed and confident that it would never take root in your current state, you relaxed and accepted all that he gave you far in your body.

After a few breaths, he pulled out and grinned.

“Good morning.” You breathed.

“Good morning, little dove.”

Seokjin smiled down at you affectionately, eyes crinkling at the corners, as he removed himself from inside you. Then, he lowered your legs to the mattress and moved to lay next to you.

You licked your lips to wet them. “Sleep well?”

“No.”

You cocked your head to look at him, caught off guard by the straightforwardness of his answer. “No?”

“Vampires do not sleep, Y/N.”

“Oh…” You winced. “Sorry.”

He chuckled, wrapping a long arm around your waist to pull you into his cocoon of love. “It is my fault and my fault alone. I should’ve been here to tell you everything you wanted to know. It seems that you had a peacefully dreamless sleep?”

“Something like that.” You winced, wondering if you should tell him about your peculiar visions that told of ancient deities and bloody deaths. You brushed off the thought and decided to distract yourself from it, ignoring your strangely active imagination.

Hesitantly, you placed your hand on his sternum and spread out your fingers to touch as much of his skin as you could.

For a few seconds, his heart beat under your palm and you marveled at the simple sensation of it bumping against your touch. What made you look up to him in panic was his heart completely stopping. Seokjin only returned his expression of entertained adoration.

“My heart beats when I feed and when I have sex.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Why?”

He brought a hand up to cradle your jaw and delicately thumb over your cheekbone. “It helps me process the blood I consume. It also fills me with blood in the… place that requires it.”

You knew what he meant. Only moments ago did you see the head of his dick, red and engorged with blood, to know that the organ was what he referred to.

“I see.”

In the silence and darkness that surrounded your naked bodies, you were left staring into Seokjin’s eyes with a million questions on the tip of your tongue. You just weren’t sure which to ask first.

Your stomach growled lowly, an indicator of an interruption in your conversation, and Seokjin let his hand trail down from your face until he palmed the side of your rib. “Sounds like it’s your turn to be fed.”

You brought your hand to cover your eyes in embarrassment, giggling softly at the simplicity of the situation between the two of you. Seokjin was getting off the bed before you could uncover your eyes.

You sat up and watched him walk over to where his torn clothes lay strewn over the floor. You watched, enraptured, as his legs flexed with each step and his back gave way to the wide muscles of his shoulders. Shit, even his butt was gorgeous.

Seokjin picked up his phone gently and padded back over to you without the inherent need to shield any of himself from your eyes. Quickly typing into his phone as he came to sit back on the bed, you watched him tap away.

“What are you doing?”

He didn’t look away from the cracked screen. “Texting Bolanle.”

“Where is she?”

“The kitchen.”

You chuckled at the surprising laziness of Lord Kim Seokjin. “Nice.”

He tossed his phone onto the nightstand and turned to face you with a suggestive smirk. “What? Texting is convenient. Especially when I have my mate in bed with me.”

Seokjin leaned into you and playfully nipped at the skin of your shoulder, only to trail the small bites toward your neck where you knew to be a hickey- or four.

Your body shuddered as he covered it with his own and you eagerly accepted him between your legs again. Even as he peppered your skin with kisses and smiled into the action, you felt the irresistibly drawing need for him to be inside you.

You also felt an odd hollowness in your chest, preventing you from completely relishing in the perfect moment with the vampire. Despite all of the fulfilling perfection that seemed to happen in the span of the last twelve hours, you still felt strangely incomplete.

Where is Sir Kim?

The issue with the question that had been nagging at you for the past few weeks seemed to push you just enough to say the query aloud. Seokjin immediately got up with a low ‘shit’ muttered between his lips.

“What’s wrong? Is he okay?” You asked worriedly and watched as he took a sheet from your bed to wrap around his waist like a skirt.

“He’s fine.” He leaned down to place a kiss upon your lips. “I just need to go find him.”

You leaned into him to elongate the kiss, desperate for more contact, but he pulled away before you could get back into the mood of wanting his tongue in your guts again. “He’s lost?”

“Not particularly.” Seokjin began walking towards the door. “I’ll be back in a few days, my love. We can take care of everything and then I can put my tongue right back into your guts.”

You blanched with embarrassment. In your relaxed state, it was easy to forget that your otherworldly bond with the lord somehow allowed him access to your thoughts. He smirked back at you as he twisted the knob and swung the door open.

Although you became frazzled and caught off guard, you trusted his word. You had faith that he would remain true to it despite his lengthy disappearance that sent you into a sick craze.

“Come back safely.” You whispered.

The vampire smiled. “Always.”

Bolanle looked as tired as ever as she cleaned the dishes you used. You kind of felt bad. She woke up just to make you food at nine o’clock in the morning when she was usually asleep by six.

“I’m sorry for waking you.” You winced. “I could’ve just made my food for myself.”

She sighed. “As long as you are fed, I am happy. If our Lord wants me to make you food then I shall make you food.”

The statement made you think. In the days following Bolanle’s revelation of her history to you, you became curious about how a designed human and a vampire came to meet.

“Bolanle,” You started. “I know that you told me Dr. Bergenov was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but you never told me about you; how did you come to be in Seokjin’s service?”

“He rescued me.” She shrugged. “Some people heard of my… heritage, so they did the typical pitchfork and torch scheme and came after me, claiming I was the work of Eshu- our version of what you may call the devil. They thought he was trying to trick humans into worshipping something other than Olodumare. Lord Kim just so happened to have caught wind of them plotting to kill me and rescued me instead.”

The woman flicked her locks out of her face to look at you. “I come from the Yoruba people in Nigeria. The religion worships the Orishas of Olodumare, so when a few people in my village began worshipping my mother and I, they hated it. A few rumors and a public execution of my human family led me to try and sail the western seas in hopes of recovering the rest of my human family who were taken by Ile-Ife for the slave trade. I really hoped to earn my way back into their good graces. What was I to do?” She raised her hand in the air expectantly. “I was so young and inexperienced and naive back then.”

The two of you moved to the lounge while she talked and you listened intently. Gingerly, she sat on the couch and you quickly took the loveseat. “I’d only heard about the United States from the few messengers who came by our village every few months after they visited Ile-Ife. My mother didn’t know much either. When she was taken back to Haphaestus’ house for his eternal service, she was forced to leave me behind because, although I was designed perfectly by her, I was human. No human could walk the Halls of Olympus.”

“When did she leave?” You asked, enraptured by her history.

“In 1789. When I was forty-two. Right when people began to realize that I was no longer aging normally.”

“When did you realize you’d stopped aging?”

Bolanle looked up for a moment and placed her fingers on her chin in thought. “I think I was around twenty-five when I noticed. I never thought to ask my mother when I would slow down. Come to think of it, she probably wouldn’t have known either. I was among the first of my sisters to be designed so we had no reference.”

You tilted your head. “Where are the rest of your sisters?”

“Many of them were prosecuted, the same as me, although…” She winced. “They weren’t as lucky as I was in finding someone to defend them. As perfect as we were, we were still human; fighting off angry mobs of people is no easy task.”

The meaning of her words was heavy and awful. “I am so sorry, Bolanle.”

“It’s not your fault, Y/N. Those that still live are very happy women nowadays.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” You leaned your chin onto your fist. “How many are left?”

Bolanle sighed and leaned back in her seat, staring up at the ceiling.

“There are twenty-three of us left.”

You were shocked. Of the ninety-nine humans created by the automatons of the Divine Smith, seventy-six were killed.

“And you…” You trailed off. “You still keep in touch with them?”

“A few.” Bolanle said. “I reconnected with four of them when I came to the United States. Lord Kim protected me from those who would hunt or enslave me and took me back here after he helped me return the stolen children to Ile-Ife.”

You cocked your head in wonder. “What did Seokjin do once you returned with him?”

Bolanle tilted her head for a moment, her bronze skin becoming highlighted by the luminescence of the chandelier above. “I think he was hunting. The Portuguese were increasingly threatening and he wanted to even the playing field a bit.”

“Even the playing field?” You echoed. "How did he do that?"

"Well,” Bolanle began. "He thought that it was unfair for such a small village like mine to be sitting there like ducks while we waited for Ile-Ife to steal us away and trade us to the white men for weapons. We hadn’t done anything to take part in the slave trade but suddenly, we became the prime product.”

“I was surprised.” She laughed. “He knew our language so well. It was almost as if he had spoken it for years. When he came and made a deal with the chief to protect us if he provided sanctuary for me, the chief agreed so enthusiastically that it became a known fact to the entire district that no one could touch me. I was practically the chief when I came back to Yorubaland with him.”

"How did he act when you got back?” You asked.

"Increasingly protective." She replied. "Like I was his daughter."

With him being almost two centuries older than the woman, you understood his need to protect her. It was a given that he would tend to someone lifetimes younger than him.

Bolanle’s phone rang, breaking you out of story time and returning you back to the present moment with a shrill tone.

The woman furrowed her eyebrows as she answered it. “Sheriff? Lord Kim’s just left for town.”

After some silence, Bolanle's forehead filled with worry lines. “I’ll let him know. We’ll get right to it.”

“What happened?” You were quick to ask after she tapped on her screen to end the call.

"Sir Kim has moved to Whittier this time. He broke into another fish warehouse."

You giggled, trying to make light of the situation. "Why a fish warehouse?"

Bolanle laughed with you despite her continuous gaze on her phone while she tapped on it. "Sir Kim is a particularly hungry creature." You tilted your head with curiosity, wondering what Sir Kim was. His apparent diet of fish led you to a plethora of possibilities.

Bolanle sniffed once and put her phone away, making to grab her coat from the rack and head towards the newly repaired front door. "I'm afraid I must leave you with Dr. Bergenov. I have to contribute my assistance so that Sir Kim does not accidentally out himself to those poor people."

As she left out the door and you bid her farewell, you imagined just what would ensue should Sir Kim reveal himself. You didn’t even know what he was yet an inkling buried deep in the recesses of your mind told you that you knew exactly what he was.

You just refused to believe it.

Lord Kim Seokjin was careful as he entered the small streets of Cordova. He couldn’t get too close to the citizens for the fear of his skin burning away from his bones- and the fact that the townspeople hadn’t seen him in nearly twelve years.

The last time he was in town, a small child had taken to the streets and lost control of himself, killing family pets and attacking strangers who hoped to help him in his supposed tantrum. He tore his way through the streets and caused mayhem in his path.

Kim Seokjin was no stranger to the situation though.

The child was a born wolf, no more than eight months old at the time, and he had evolved to the likeness of a six year-old human due to his nature as a lycanthrope. Seokjin remembered his wild brown eyes staring up at him like it had just happened the day prior.

He was a feral child and it was obvious that he had not had any contact with his mother since his birth. He wore no clothes and he spoke no language. The only human expression that he seemed to present was the look of his disgust when he scented the vampire on the wind.

“It’s okay.” Seokjin had carefully spread his hands out in front of him, palms to the sky to show that he was not a threat to the Lycan, and approached him slowly. Despite the pup's lack of knowledge in speech, Seokjin still spoke to offer a volume of comfort. “I won’t hurt you.”

He managed to back the young wolf into the corner of a dock where he would fall in the water if he tried to go anywhere but at him. Wolves, with their thick coats of fur that weighed a lot when soaked, avoided the water like the plague due to the fear of drowning. The child had lost control and phased into his black and sand-colored coat during the pursuit.

“Just take it easy.” Seokjin said lowly. “You're fine.”

The pup snarled at him, revealing his teeth to attempt warding off the danger that he thought Seokjin to impose. With a wince, Seokjin slowly inched forward.

“Oh, by the Gods, Jin,” Taehyung spoke from behind the vampire, a hint of a scoff showcasing his obvious annoyance with the situation. “Of all the years you've handled my kind, you can't get this pup under control?”

“Shove it, mutt. It was hard enough to get him away from the people. This shit takes time.”

Taehyung smirked cockily. "Not if you're an alpha.”

The werewolf wiped the smile from his face as he made eye contact with the child. It lightly bowed its head under the mental pressure that Taehyung exhumed onto it, yet it still bared its teeth and licked them to try and fight the submission.

“Feisty one, aren't ya?” Taehyung chuckled heartily. “You purebreds sure are a pain to bend. I'll give you that.” The older wolf bent down to become eye-level with the small one and placed his hands on his knees. “But you're going to have to submit now.”

The young one whined in protest and dropped his head lower to the ground. Despite wanting to resist, the pressure would become far too painful on the child's mental. He wasn't nearly developed enough and would most likely never get the chance to be because of his separation from his mother. He had the most vital stage of his development stripped away.

After around two minutes of the pup's struggling, his tongue lolled out and he laid on the dock in relaxation. He knew who the alpha was.

“There you go.” Taehyung reached his hand out and placed it on top of the wolfs head. “That wasn't so hard, was it?”

The wolf child was no longer a child- Seokjin and Taehyung could tell that much by how the eyes did not reflect the typical vibrant blue that purebreds donned in their wolf state- yet neither man could find it in themselves to eliminate the child when it became docile.

“What should we do with him? We can't leave him here.” Seokjin looked down on the child in worry.

“Yeontan.” Taehyung said simply.

The vampire furrowed his eyebrows at the werewolf in confusion. “What?”

“I'm naming him Yeontan.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“He's not an animal, Taehyung.”

“Actually,” Taehyung turned to meet his brother's gaze at him. "He is now. There's nothing salvageable in him anymore. Nothing human to recover."

“So his name is Yeontan,” Taehyung turned back to meet the eyes of the wolf in front of him, looking down at him proudly. For some reason, he was feeling particularly fatherly today. "And he's mine."

Seokjin shook his head at the blasphemy.

“For fuck’s sake.”

Seokjin shook his head at the memory, curious of the pack Taehyung integrated Yeontan into.

The small pack was located several miles from Seokjin’s large estate. It was safer for Yeontan to stay away from any close settlement so that he didn't happen to run into the wrong people at the wrong time. Many humans didn't understand the quiet life of the wolf and Seokjin was completely sure that they would unnecessarily kill him. Instead of letting him roam freely as a lone wolf, which was incredibly dangerous, Taehyung placed Yeontan as the alpha of a group of Interior Alaskan wolves to keep him grounded.

The vampire made a beeline for the police station, keeping his hat low to conceal his face. It was necessary to conceal the fact that he hadn't aged a single day since the last time the locals saw him all those years ago.

"Ah, Lord Kim," The sheriff greeted Seokjin at the door with a nervous smile, green eyes seeming to tremble under Lord Kim's intimidation. "Glad to have your assistance on this again. These damned wolves can't seem to stay out of our business."

"The damned wolves are simply acting with the flow of nature.” Seokjin was quick to correct the human, mocking the word with the smallest amount of aggression. “It is you who cannot stay out of nature's business."

"Yes," The sheriff said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "That's what I meant, sir."

Seokjin resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the human's pathetic behavior and, instead, focused on the matter at hand- Taehyung’s obvious episode that has caused some turmoil for the humans' precious money.

"So, he was last seen in Valdez?"

"Actually," The sheriff began. "I tried to reach you about that but Ms. Bolanle informed me that you had already left for town."

"What is it?" Seokjin tried not to show how annoyed he was with the man whilst he pulled out his phone.

The white-haired man looked away from the intensity of Sir Kim's eyes. He knew there to be something sinister- something unholy- about the Lord of the Bangenov estate. All he knew was that he signed legally binding paperwork that prevented him from asking questions and telling anyone else about him.

The sheriff was careful with his response. "He was spotted in Whittier this morning. At the boat harbor."

For fuck’s sake. 

Seokjin closed his eyes and rose his hand to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose between his fingertips. He was all the way on the other side of the Orca and Eaglek bays.

"The security team over there got him cornered for a bit but then he kept running west. My guess is he's heading for the city. Ms. Bolanle has already begun to head that way."

Fuck.

Seokjin didn't like the idea of leaving you alone, but Anchorage would be terrible for Taehyung and Bolanle probably wouldn't make it there in time due to her human modes of transportation. Seokjin would need to travel on his own and instruct Bolanle to stay in the local area.

Anchorage would be incredibly dangerous for the wolf and he would be captured or killed within an hour- Seokjin wouldn't know how to handle losing his brother. Not only would the loss be a terrible ache in his heart, it would endanger the world as he knew it.

Sooner rather than later, the humans would discover the supernatural in Taehyung‘s biology, whether he was dead or alive, and it would open up an entire kaleidoscope of terrible possibilities for the future of werewolves. Consequentially, the entire supernatural world would be in danger. It’s the reason as to why lone wolves were so rare.

Seokjin needed to find Taehyung and he needed to find him fast.

“I’ll find him. Keep your deputies on high alert. Contact me or Bolanle if you see him."

Seokjin looked at his phone and shot a quick text to Bolanle in response to her text message that informed him of the situation.

I’m going to the city. Stay in the local area and be my POC for the sheriff.

Bolanle’s response was almost immediate.

Understood. Good luck, my Lord.

Seokjin needed to move quickly. There was no time to waste. He needed to swim- now.

“Sheriff, I’m going to be leaving my coat with you. If anything happens to it, know that it will set you back about five-thousand dollars.” Seokjin was shedding his coat and placing it on the coat rack in the man’s office before he could protest or exhibit his shock from the price.

“W-why?” He stuttered.

“It’s Valentino. I don’t want to get it dirty.”

The sheriff only stiffened and nodded in response.

Seokjin was out the door and diving into the bay before the sheriff could fully turn to look at the expensive article of clothing in his office.

What had he gotten himself into?

The pain in your body was returning.

It was ever present as you struggled to suppress the heat seeping into your skin with cool towels and cold drinks. Unsurprisingly, you'd broken into a sweat like you had right before Seokjin relieved you of it.

With Dr. Bergenov as crabby as ever, secluding himself to whatever he did in his free time, and Bolanle absent due to her contribution in trying to find Sir Kim, you were left by your lonesome in the giant manor of the Bangenov estate. Your need for exploration into the many vacant rooms only got you so far before you confined yourself to your room, the kitchen, and the library for your fear of encroaching on the lord's privacy.

The hours of waiting for Seokjin- along with Bolanle- were filled with emptiness and unease. The wake of their absence left a giant hole where the life of the manor used to be. Although you had only been around for a few weeks, the two people- okay, maybe Dr. Bergenov too- became the largest parts of your only real social life. It was difficult to ignore that, while they were gone, your loneliness came back at full force.

As the days went by, you found yourself in the library more and more. The collection of books that Seokjin studied held your curiosity as you struggled to understand them by typing the words into Google translate.

Your classes were easy enough- with all of them online, you could keep up with the due dates of your assignments on your own time. Without any actual meeting times, you were able to complete your work anywhere in the house that you pleased.

Spring began four days after Seokjin's departure and you were beginning to feel the effects of his blood in your body wearing off. You hadn't realized it before; his blood had you not only immune to pain, but hearing and seeing much better. Having to use your reading glasses after those few days to do your homework reminded you that, yes, you actually had to wear glasses sometimes.

Day five of waiting for Seokjin, something strange began happening.

A phantom touch began skating along your skin at the most random of times. A whisper and exhale dancing along your lips when you trailed your finger along the pages of one of Seokjin's books. A featherlight caress on your cheek when you chewed on your toast for breakfast in the evening. A soft kiss on your neck and a knee between your thighs as you rinsed your face off in the shower.

Someone had been with you like this.

You remembered it.

Your body was insistent on believing that it was Sir Kim. Had you felt his touch before? The touch was so familiar that you swore the energy was one you'd experienced, yet you knew that it wasn't Seokjin nor any other man you'd been with. How did you know this touch? The more you thought about it, the more you asked yourself;

Where is Sir Kim?

Before you knew it, the days without Seokjin turned into another week without him. It was beginning to weigh in on the factors of loneliness so that you felt so crazy that you believed Sir Kim connected with you somehow.

You knew no words were spoken, a frustrating sensation of communication that left you questioning more than before, and you began suffering the lack of answers as more time passed. Were these actual memories haunting you? Or was it something... supernatural?

You perused through the library during the time you spent focusing on the touch of the other. Your assignments didn't take you very long, so it allowed you the time to read, process, and understand the details of Seokjin's anthologies within his massive collection of material. Vampires, werewolves, oracles, sirens; where did it end? What was real? What was a myth that man created to describe the illogical things they had seen- likely products of the existing supernatural- so that they could attempt to identify the otherworldly?

"A Lycan is most vulnerable during a full moon due to instinct, when the tide is at its highest. High waters are the most dangerous factor to a wolf due to the fact that swimming with the heavy coat is practically impossible."

You tilted your head at the words, dumbfounded by the surprisingly logical perspective, and continued typing more of the Latin into the translator.

"Although the moon goddess of their lore, Selene, is said to be at her strongest during a full moon- this is the alluded reasoning to their weakness- there is no solid evidence proving nor disproving the accuracy of their religion. It is also rumored that-"

Selene.

The name glowed at you the further you got from it. The harder you tried to move on and read more into the transfixing information on your laptop, the more you lost focus and became distracted by the name.

As you did with the names of Lord Kim and Sir Kim, you gave into the urge to whisper the name aloud.

“Selene.”

Your vision went white.

A beast came skidding to a stop far in the woods and froze with its paws planted deep into the soil. In the pale light of the full moon and the crisp air of the early spring night, it became invigorated by the phantom touch of its goddess. Any prior thoughts of hunger were forgotten.

It was a touch that urged him back to the estate of the man's vampire companion. The man within the beast perked back into mild consciousness at the new interest, already having been resigned to giving the beast full control in its rut. The man could do nothing except let the beast change course back to his home with the hope that his vampiric brother would come to reel his control back in.

Faster than it had ever sprinted before, a speed that left plants and weeds uprooted in his wake, the beast of Kim Taehyung moved its legs with an urgency that felt similar to the need to survive.

The man understood this situation as life or death; he could feel the desperation to live as his own instinct, yet he did not know what prompted the beast to feel these things. The beast had never truly felt threatened like this. In the many years it spent on the earth, running into many dangerous creatures of his world, it never felt as if it would die like it did now. Something was strange about the sensation though.

The man could not delve too far into the beast's emotions for it was a simple creature and its emotions were simple to understand, however, the man was confused to find that fear, an emotion usually associated with the possibility of dying, was nowhere to be found.

The beast did not have to be human to feel fear- all animals felt a sense of fear when confronted with the potential of death- but the beast maintained a sense of knowing and urgency that utterly terrified him.

It ran for what seemed like an eternity. Kim Taehyung was surprised to find that he was still incredibly aroused yet not doing anything to relieve the pressure. What could be so important that not even his rut got in the way of it? He wasn't thinking clearly, so far back in the mind of the beast that any reasoning could only go so far before the beast pushed him back into simplicity.

Whatever drove the beast was instinctual. Carnal. Feral.

Taehyung just had to sit back for the ride and hope to be brought back to his humanity sooner rather than later.

"I'm here to see Mr. De Nas, ma’am.”

Seokjin leaned an arm against the counter and pulled his top hat further down his forehead with the other. The nurse was young, he could tell, yet her eyes had aged many years since the beginning of the war. He spoke to her softly and respectfully, hoping that she would feel a little more at ease in his presence with his chivalry.

She looked up at him stressfully, her brown eyes dull and lifeless due to the horrors she had seen in her few months working in the infirmary. "Are you his kin?”

Seokjin wasn't exactly lying to her when he said, “Yes.”

Quizzically, she looked up at him.

"I'm his second cousin-" Seokjin mended his previous answer. "- from America."

"What's his date of birth?" She asked as an obligation of protocol.

"October third, ma’am.”

She raised a thin eyebrow. “Year?”

Seokjin had to resist the urge to roll his eyes in front of a lady. He was a gentleman after all. “1888.”

“Very well.” The corner of her lips barely nudged upward as she attempted to smile. It looked more like a grimace. "I'll have someone bring you to him."

“No need, ma’am. I’ve been here before.” He smiled and put a hand up whilst leaning back to leave.

That was a lie.

Because he’d never been in that infirmary before. In fact, he’d never actually been to Belgium.

Seokjin still smiled and walked away from the counter because he didn’t need to have been in the hospital to find the person he was looking for. He had his nose and his ears for that.

The scent of Wim De Nas was strong amongst the dozens of others within the hall. Dried blood permeated the corridors and made Seokjin’s face more difficult to control, yet the blood wasn’t alluring enough to make him lose his composure. Instead, he focused on the familiar scent of his assistant’s cancer-laced blood.

The vampire strode down the hall quickly, knowing that the human’s time on earth was dwindling. He needed to see him before he passed.

Luckily enough, Seokjin’s connections were developed enough that he was able to get Wim his own room away from the busy group rooms like the other soldiers of his country. War had struck yet again and, at the conclusion of it, it seemed that Wim’s god did not will him to survive. His cancer had attacked his liver mere weeks after the conclusion of the second world war and a month before his fifty-seventh birthday.

Seokjin found his room before long. It came as no surprise that Wim was hooked up to a drip to maintain his hydration.

“You’ve definitely seen better days.” Seokjin took off his hat and pressed it to his chest as he regarded Wim’s state whilst speaking the Flemish of Wim’s people. The man’s skin stretched tightly over his cheekbones, a sign of malnutrition and sickness, and it contrasted starkly to the boy he saw graduate all those years ago. Seokjin couldn’t help the sad look that he made on his face to act out the normal human response.

Wim chuckled weakly, turning his head to look at the ancient one, and offered a soft smile.

“And yet, it seems that you’ve seen the same days since the last time I saw you.”

Seokjin quickly moved to pull up a chair at the bedside so that he could level with the dying human.

“It is all the same; the same as always.” The vampire still clutched his hat to his chest as if to shield his unbeating heart from the damage that this scene would cause it if it were human.

Wim turned his head back to the ceiling and closed his eyes from the exhaustion that riddled him. His lips were dry and his words were breathless. “That’s good. Very good.”

Seokjin let the statement sit in the silence for a moment, merely hoping that it would miraculously change his assistant’s mind. “I assume that you know why I’ve come here now.”

“I do,” Wim sighed. “and I’ll have you know that my position on the topic has gone unchanged even on my deathbed.”

The vampire let his head drop just slightly in disappointment before he spoke again. “I see. Would you please explain to me once more as to why you do not wish to accept my lifeblood?”

“I’m a man of science, Lord Kim; I’m a man of medicine. I took an oath when I became a doctor that promised the care and healing of all people. I cannot delay my inevitable end when the price of doing so endangers those I love.” Wim turned his head to look at his lord and held the stern reality of life as a beacon within his hazel eyes.

“I am immortal, Wim.” The vampire resisted the urge to puff his chest out. “There is no end for individuals like me.”

“Everything must come to an end. Everything. Although your end may not seem conceivable right now, God has ensured that all things capable of life are capable of death.”

For a moment, Seokjin weighed the words in his mind, tossing them back and forth between the logic of his condition and the potential of the existence of a higher power.

“How long do you have?” Seokjin decided to leave Wim’s statement where it was and move on.

“A month.”

There was a slight pain in Seokjin’s chest yet it was gone as soon as it appeared. He wished he could have come to visit Wim way before the war concluded, yet it was a risk for him to cross the sea at a time when it was constantly regulated by the world’s superpowers. He couldn’t take the route through the Canadian peninsula into eastern Russia either because it was heavily guarded by those who sought to protect it from American claim.

“It will be a shame to see you go, Wim. Your service was greatly appreciated. You became an outstanding young man.”

“It is because of you that I have built this life for myself. I received an education and clothes on my back because of your faith in me." Wim's bottom lip trembled. "The least I could do was assist you in your extraordinary life- even if my time serving you was minuscule.” Somehow, Wim was well enough to produce a few tears in his eyes. “It’s been quite the journey with you, father.”

Seokjin clutched his hat just a tiny bit more in his grasp. He had brought this boy up since he found him on the streets, barely over three years old at the time. Now, he was outliving him. “I say the same to you. Helping you grow into who you were meant to be has been my greatest achievement of my entire existence, my son.”

The two men sat weeping- one shedding a few tears and clutching onto the fingers of his father while the other wished that he could find some way to exhibit the true emotion that struggled to manifest within him- until the one marked for death fell into a dreamless sleep.

"I require your services no longer, Wim." Seokjin's smile was bittersweet as he placed a hand onto his forehead, brushing some of the whitening hair out of the way while he spoke softly. "Enjoy the rest of your human life, my boy."

The vampire ensured that he had delightful dreams of open fields and sunny skies before he stood to leave. With hesitation, he let his fingers slip from the dying man’s grasp.

As Seokjin left his only son behind, he narrowly avoided the quick path of a human surgeon who was struggling to take a set of bloody gloves off of his fingers. In his distracted state, he lost the handle on his thirst. He felt the blood rush to his scleras and fill the veins around his eyes for just a fraction of a second before it was returning to his body.

"Pardon me, sir." The vampire eyed the man carefully as he listened intently to the pulse of his heart so that he could gauge if the man saw his face. His heart rate was already accelerated from his quick walk and obvious stress, but he didn't notice any further jump of surprise or shock. It was relieving because he didn't have to do anything to conceal his identity.

"I'm sorry." He said. "I should have been watching where I was going."

Seokjin smiled. "That's quite alright, sir. I could say the same about myself."

The man nodded once and turned to walk away, obviously in a hurry. "Good day."

The vampire nodded in return and began walking in the opposite direction.

The surgeon didn't let himself exhale a stuttered breath until he closed the door to his office behind him.

What was that?

Fear coursed through him as he remembered the sight of the demon. His hands trembled as he placed them on his desk to try calming his rapidly beating heart.

Despite the crippling fear, the man decided that he would find out just what the demon actually was. He needed to know so that he protect Mikhail from it.

“Dr. Bergenov?” A nurse came barging into his office. “The next patient is ready.”

The man quickly followed her out of the door.

Lord Kim Seokjin doubled back in confusion. Right on the outskirts of Anchorage, the scent of the Lycan stopped. A large indent of disturbed dirt conveyed that Taehyung had changed his mind less than two hours before the vampire got there.

Incredibly puzzled, Seokjin pulled out his phone and dialed his assistant's number.

"Did you find him, my lord?” Bolanle’s voice was laced with as much concern as Seokjin was feeling.

“No. I was going to ask if the sheriff had any leads.”

Seokjin heard the woman sigh over the phone.

“None yet. He’s as stumped as we are. There haven’t been any sightings.”

The vampire cursed lowly and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers- a habit he picked up to feel more human. “Damn it. His path has changed drastically. He’s gone back towards home I think.”

“Has he? I’ll be sure to inform the locals to keep an eye out then.”

“Very well.” Seokjin said. “I’ll check in later.”

“Understood, my lord.”

Seokjin hung up again and began tracking the mutt once more. If the wolf was going where he thought he was going, he needed to be even faster than a Lycan. The thought intimidated him.

Within the first twenty minutes of tracking, Seokjin noticed that Taehyung’s scent split to the northwest, in the direction of Ni’iinlii Njik. It seemed that the wolf still didn’t want to be near your nor the estate after all.

Although he sprinted for another hour to track the scent, he came to a sudden stop so that he could answer his ringing phone. He couldn’t lie and say that he didn’t have a spark of hope in his chest as the sun set on the horizon

“Bolanle?” He said her name expectantly.

“My lord,” She began. Seokjin could hear the conflict in her tone with the two, simple words. “I don’t want to concern you but-“

“What happened?” The vampire had to hold his hiss back as he cut her off.

“Y/N has gone missing.”

You woke in the cold.

You still had your lounge gown on but you had no shoes on your feet. Your mind was flayed into confusion the more you took in your surroundings.

The moon was full as it gazed down on you and lit the ground.

Leaves crunched under your body as you carefully moved to your feet. No matter how much you thought about it, you couldn’t remember how you got out of the mansion.

Where is Sir Kim?

You doubled over at the thought and winced as the ache between your legs returned at full force. It had gone forgotten in your wakeful daze but it seemed to multiply tenfold as it reminded you of its presence.

The urge to find him was instantaneous and you carried yourself further into the wilderness despite knowing in the back of your mind that it was unreasonable to continue. Why were you so driven to find him? There was a disconnect between your thoughts and your actions before but, as your mind continued its pondering over the mysterious man, your feet carried you faster and you became more goal-oriented.

“Sir Kim?” You were heaving as you called his name in the chill of the forest air. Your breath came out as puffs of steam while your voice echoed into the emptiness around you.

Your legs carried you deeper into the trees and further from where you knew the open field of the estate to be. In your head, your venturing out was right because you would find him- you would be the one to find Sir Kim Taehyung because you could feel that he wasn’t far.

The further you got, bare feet aching from the cold and cuts already beginning to scatter themselves across the bottoms, the more determined you became. Your search for Sir Kim went unhindered because you knew, deep- deep- down, that you would be the one to find him. You were meant to. He was the one you needed to be with and you felt his pull on your body getting stronger and stronger the more you enveloped yourself into the wilderness of Cordova.

You felt like you were in a determined daze because of how horny your thoughts made you since your awakening. Sir Kim had become the object of your daydreams and dirtiest fantasies in the wake of Seokjin’s absence like the presence of one brother made you also crave the other. The intrusive question you kept asking yourself- Where is Sir Kim?- drove you to the brink of insanity as you cupped a hand over your stomach and ran. You needed him.

Where is Sir Kim?

The thought made you stop and crouch over again so that you could process the increasing levels of your desire while your body pulsed and ached for the man. It only became harder to move as your pussy and stomach squeezed so painfully tight that it was difficult to move your legs apart.

A twig snapped, sharp and deafening in the silence it cut through, and you jerked your head in the direction it came from quickly. The pulse between your legs made your movements faster and hurried in your frustration.

Something within you told you to stay put- don’t run- and it kept you rooted to your spot while you shifted uncomfortably on one knee.

The inner voice that drove you whispered intentions to you, telling you that it was Taehyung without any words. Too much confusion threw your mind off and prevented you from being able to focus on anything for too long. Whatever came over you was ensuring that any common sense you hoped to retain went flying out the window. 

Because he was near you; you felt the burning heat of his presence all the way down to your bones. How could you focus when you were moments away from finally reuniting with him?

It felt like countless lifetimes passed since the last time you looked into his golden eyes. You’d seen him mere weeks before, beautiful and warm and utterly forbidden as he stood in the doorway of Seokjin’s manor. It felt as if you’d built an entire foundation upon the man you’d only known the name of.

Why?

A low growl emanated from somewhere in the darkness and you found the remnants of Seokjin's blood blessing still improving your ability to see into the darkness better than you normally could. It allowed you to see the outline of the black, wolf-like creature with its golden eyes- along with its blown-out pupils- watching you.

The eyes of Apollo.

The intensity of his stare was divine and sacred as it tore through your soul, picking apart each piece to rearrange them into true completion once more. Your body pulsated and your blood roared with adrenaline in your veins while your heart galloped away in your chest. Something else roared in your mind and drove your body to its knees as you regarded Sir Kim in his true form.

There was a deep-sat knowledge within you, a calling that pushed your body to adhere to its instincts, and a fresh rush of wetness burst from your cunt to run down the expanse of your bare thighs while your mind submitted to Sir Kim Taehyung in the most unnatural of ways.

"Alpha." You breathed, the word feeling wholly alien yet nostalgic on your tongue.

Why did you call him that?

It seemed to incite the energy in the wolf to spring forward and phase mid-air into the man you were searching for.

Bare, caramel skin and dark hair flew towards you and you smiled all the same at the revelation of what Sir Kim was. With excitement forcing the moan from between your lips, you opened your arms and welcomed his naked, attacking form into your embrace.

He pulled back his lips while he let out a snarl so loud that it overwhelmed your ear drums when he pushed you to your back on the forest floor, yet you still smiled into his bared teeth at the feeling of his burning hot skin covering yours. You weren’t scared of him because you had no reason to be.

“Taehyung,” You finally whispered his true name to let him know that you meant no harm while you took in his scent of charred wood and ash. With you saying his name right in front of him, you could see from his shiver that the sound of his name affected him just as much as it affected you- if not more. “I’m here.”

“Pup.” He let his nose press into your cheek while he moaned lowly into your jaw. The sound shot straight to your toes and you curled them into the dirt below. Your fingers held onto his bare ribs as he dug his nails into the ground by your head and leaned down to press his nose into your skin.

“Oh, pup.” He repeated huskily, breath fanning against your neck. “My Luna.”

“Oh.” You breathed, both in understanding and pleasure, as he pressed his open mouth against the side of your neck with his tongue out.

He took one swipe, then two, and then maneuvered your body into his lap and your gown rode up your legs as they spread to welcome him between them.

Your blood pumped away in your flesh, something you had no doubt that he could hear, and you tried to breathe slowly to calm yourself. The effort only made him return his mouth to yours.

Instead of going for a kiss like you thought, he opened his mouth and inhaled your exhales. Perfectly in sync with your breathing pattern, he took every breath you gave him as you tried to relax. Every inhale you took, he let his own exhale wash over your palate.

“Good.” Taehyung mumbled. His eyelids fluttered. “So good.”

You stared down at his lidded golden eyes- it was hard see the yellowish color past the drastic dilation of his pupils- as you let him graze his lips on yours and slot his body carefully onto your stomach so that you could feel his pulsing cock resting against your hip. Taehyung seemed to hungrily gulp down every breath you took and crowded himself closer against you. You were thankful for the manmade furnace in the freezing weather.

For a moment, it was just the two of you breathing together and actualizing each other into reality again. It was peace and it was passion altogether in the moment that you knew to be the quiet before the storm. You knew that Taehyung believed you hadn’t wanted him and it was in this moment that he was figuring out you’d wanted him all along.

His tongue was gentle as he prodded it between your lips, licking onto your teeth as you’d seen wolves do on nature documentaries. Despite your desire to match his efforts, you knew that he still needed a few moments to fully return to a humanly conscious state of mind so that you could give him absolute control over the progression of the situation. What compelled you to give him this control?

Taehyung dipped the tip of his tongue onto the top of yours, gently testing the heat of your mouth and caressing your own hot muscle. With every curl of his tongue, your thighs squeezed against his waist harder and harder.

One particular flick had your pelvic floor painfully convulsing and sending out another dribble of your wetness. In turn, Taehyung responded to your biological reaction with a throaty growl and manhandling of your frame into his arms

“Rut.” He said into your mouth.

You pulled away from him with furrowed eyebrows to communicate your confusion. “What?”

He seemed to struggle for a moment, pulling away just enough so that he could speak yet keep your noses touching at their tips. His eyebrows were drawn downward in an obvious attempt to collect his thoughts.

“‘m in rut.”

You could tell that he struggled with speaking although you didn’t know why.

Did it have something to do with his animal state? What is a rut?

“Rut?” You voiced your question.

He hummed in affirmation. “Like heat.”

You thought for a moment on his nature- what being a wolf actually entailed. Of all of Seokjin’s books you read about werewolves- Lycans- you hadn’t run into anything about ruts. You figured you would’ve seen something about it had you continued reading.

You were left trying to figure it out on your own while he let the tip of his dick drag against your skin.

Wolves were related to dogs. You knew that. Surely they had to be similar, right?

The moment you made the connection between wolves and dogs, you made the connection between ruts and heats.

Kim Taehyung was a bitch in heat.

You winced at the sentiment, knowing the saying was particularly blunt in nature, yet it was your first thought as you figured out just was Taehyung was trying to tell you. Your body soared with lust at the thought.

“Y/N.”

His voice was low and cautious as he slowly let your back drop to the cold ground. It was an omen of the danger that would ensue in the following moments as your nipples peaked with the frigid contact.

You hummed in response to your name when he squeezed his arm behind your back to bring himself closer and kneaded his fingers into the flesh of your shoulder and waist.

“Mate.”

Your hold on his body tightened at the word. “You want to mate?”

He moaned, nodding in a way that made his nose brush against yours, and it is then that you felt his body begin a slow roll into you. Without any panties in the way, his thigh was muscled and rough as it pressed straight onto your pussy lips. The strangled sound emitted from your throat only made him press into you even more.

Sir Kim pulled away suddenly, eyes shining as he shifted them down your trembling body, and reached his hands out to grasp onto your gown. You felt the bite of the early-spring night’s air on your bare skin when he tore it down the middle to reveal you to him as if he was excitedly unwrapping a present. Your clothing tore like it was the most simple thing under his strength.

You were left speechless as he leaned away from you to survey the expanse of your naked body below him. You had no inclination to be insecure under his eyes and you presented yourself willingly to him by widening your legs even further for him to see.

Almost eagerly, he dove down.

Your fingers sunk into his hair just as you had envisioned the first time you saw him and it honestly felt like you had made a premonition back then.

Because he was snarling as he began lapping the fruitful juices of your connection with a tongue that was much wider and less muscly than a human’s- a werewolf’s tongue.

His fingers dug into your flesh possessively as he hunched over your keening body to better his access at your cunt while his nose scrunched up and his eyebrows furrowed over his closed eyes. He treated your pussy as a long-awaited reward.

It wasn’t even a moment later that he was lifting your hips from the ground to mercilessly encase you in his arms to prevent your escape.

Your shoulders stayed on the ground whilst his arms wrapped around your waist to secure your ass to his chest. Like an axe splitting down the middle of a log, Taehyung’s head struck down between your thighs and ferociously attacked your folds. Your loud keen of satisfaction echoed off of the trees around you.

Suspended in the air, your legs flailed as his fat tongue laved over the opening to your cunt repeatedly, fast, rough, and slick with saliva, to snatch up all of the juices you had to offer him. His biceps flexed against your hips and his forearms morphed into iron belts across your belly as your body writhed against him in a wanton display of mild resistance to his obsession.

But you knew that Taehyung wasn’t having it. He would never let you go.

The werewolf’s dick pulsed against your spine, stickiness at his tip clinging to your skin and making you wish that you could taste it. The craving to have him between your lips was only momentary though, because then you felt your juices mixed with his spit beginning to drip over your pubic mound and down to where his arms tied against your stomach. You hadn’t realized that there was so much.

A coil quickly appeared in your pussy, sharp and hot, and it became tighter and warmer with each flick of his tongue over your clit. The slick slide of his tongue into your flesh produced the sound of your body making way for it, which elicited your shudder as the coil got closer to the brink of snapping.

“Taehyung,” Your teeth chattered as you called his name, letting him know just how good he was making you feel. He responded with a gruff moan that rumbled deep in his chest and then tightened his arms around you until you could barely breathe.

Your orgasm was instantaneous with the vibration of his throat against your body. You tied your legs around his head with a trembling breath and allowed yourself to lose care for if he could breathe or not- just for a moment. It was too much to not curl in and grip onto his hair for dear life as your pussy squeezed around his quick tongue.

You moaned to the moon, relishing in the feel of his hands holding you tightly while he groaned into the new flush of your juices on his mouth. Your legs pressing tightly against the sides of his head did not seem to hinder him in the slightest. Instead, he eagerly sucked in and gulped what you gave until your were licked clean once more.

“Tae,” You breathed, hoping to draw him away from your increasingly sensitive clit, however, it didn’t seem to phase him at all. His grip around your body and his fierceness against your sensitivity did not change at the sound of his name.

For the next few minutes, you laid in his grasp, partially suspended in the air with twitching legs as he got his fill through your orgasms. Each pass of the werewolf's tongue got more mind-boggling than the last until you knew for absolute fact that your pussy was becoming raw- it was becoming so raw that tears began building up in your eyes.

A particularly harsh orgasm born from your painpleasure is what drove you to begin pulling him by the hair away from your body and pushing against his forehead. You could hardly take another second of the onslaught. He didn't budge at all against your inferior strength.

"Sir Kim," Your teeth chattered as you tried to stop gritting your teeth. "I don't know if I can-"

The man cut you off with an animalistic growl, possessively digging his fingers into your waist to keep you firmly planted against his chest, and you swallowed thickly as you felt your blood rushing to your head even harder because of how your circulation was becoming pressurized by his grip on you. You scrambled against him, whimpering as you grabbed onto his arms to try and peel them from around you while your legs struggled to find a way to separate him from your sensitivity.

Your lips were dry as you gasped. “Taehyung, please. I-” You hiccuped and cut yourself off again as he leaned down to press his mouth even tighter into you. It resulted in your shoulders getting shoved into the dirt even harder and your back bowing even more drastically than before. “Oh.”

Your clit was weeping against the rough texture of Sir Kim’s tongue. It cried out to you and begged you to pull away from his feverish licking, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him to stop because it felt so sinfully good. All you were missing was Seokjin’s impossible depth.

Where is Seokjin?

The thought broke you out of your stupor for a moment and, almost as if he heard your thought, Taehyung pulled away to growl angrily.

“No. My pup.”

With little care, the werewolf unwrapped his arms from your waist and let you drop to the ground. Fully ready to leave in order to save your body from the painfully blissful sensitivity, you began scrambling away. The leaves underneath your arms scratched uncomfortably against your skin as you turned around to get up and start running.

“No,” He repeated, accompanying the sound with a large hand wrapped around your ankle. It was too easy for him to pull you back to him and into the fires of his bond. “Mate.”

His body fell on top of yours and trapped you into the ground while his heart beat wildly against your back. Again, the heat of his skin was welcome to fight off the cold, but you didn’t know if you were prepared to take any more of his obvious need that sat upon your ass.

You whimpered then and the sound was not the same as your usual sex-driven sound. There was something unnatural about it. Odd. It almost sounded… animal.

“Mate.” The Lycan grunted again. It was a question. He was asking to continue.

For a moment, you considered the weight of his proposal again.

Taehyung was a blazing inferno of passion and fuck energy. His libido was impossible to gauge, however, you knew that he would fuck the living daylights out of you- you just didn’t know how long he would fuck you for. Could you handle it?

A soft brush of his lips over your shoulder seemed to take away any doubts you had as it stroke shivers up the length of your spine. You were breathing your confirmation before you could second-guess yourself.

“Mate.”

Taehyung was engorged and long as he rutted into one of your asscheeks. Each time his hips surged forward to gain the traction of your skin on his dick, he exhaled sharply into your ear. Your cheek was pressed into the ground and his forehead pressed into your temple to keep you from moving. Another rear back of his hips and a hand lifting you up by the belly and suddenly, his dick was pressed up against your folds without ceasing his back and forth motions.

Your body drooled for him, easily lathering his manhood with a few of his strokes, and you gasped as his soft skin massaged over your weeping clit. The will to mate with him was there, yet the fear of the pain also began seeping into your conscious the more you thought about how large he was.

Would you fit all of him?

Your ass was crushed each time his hips surged into your body and you had the fleeting thought that maybe he was so feverish that he couldn’t process placing himself where he intended to spear into you, however, it was merely fleeting.

Because he lined himself up and begin to split you open without any further pomp nor circumstance. Your unnatural amount of natural lube was welcome then.

You held your breath as his dick divided your walls like an iniquitously hot poker. A shot of pain had you groaning in discomfort and hoping that, when he bottomed out, the pain would subside.

Your thighs quivered and your nails raked into the ground below you, crunching leaves into your grasp as the tip of him continued to sink deep- deeper- than you thought you could go. Never before had you felt such a depth become reached by someone’s dick- Seokjin’s tongue didn’t count.

When his hips met your ass again, you were all but lightheaded as he slumped further into you, completely trapping you against the ground. You felt his chest expand and contract against your back as he somehow gathered his thoughts enough to give you the time you needed to adjust to him.

Your breaths came harshly, small whimpers elicited from your lips with each movement he made. Almost as if he sensed your need for comfort, he leaned down to shush you gently.

“Mate here.” Taehyung whispered. He lightly pressed his lips to your shoulder. “Ma- I’m… here.”

You exhaled in relaxation almost automatically, a small instinct inside you finding the ability from the support of Taehyung. It was natural.

His cock jumped within you, pulsing as his exhales came out gruffly, and you twitched with the tiny nudges he gave you. Finally, your body was beginning to relax.

Taehyung rutted into you then, impossibly deep and pressing into your womb with a small push that knocked the air out of you so fast that you wheezed sharply. You were afraid to see how far your pussy lips were spread for him.

The man withdrew and when he returned his hips to your ass with a slight jerk at the end, you felt his body trembling fervently against you. Whatever mercy he had given you before was dwindling quickly.

Just get the worst part over with.

You clenched your teeth with the thought in mind, preparing to rock your hips back to take him in again, when he slipped himself back into you with a hand holding your waist steady. Again, you couldn’t hope to go anywhere.

“Alpha,” The title slipped past your lips again, whole and true and utterly winsome, without you giving it any prior thought.

He is your Alpha, you told yourself. The sensation only made you give in to his movements even more.

The wolf’s groan in satisfaction of his recognition must have driven him even further from reasoning because he drew back and surged forward again.

“My pup. Mine.”

Without your hesitation in the way and the pain of his cock diminishing from your walls, you began slipping back into the daze of your first mating with him.

Because you were an animal then, bare and wild and utterly devoted to your life mate that speared into you while he protected you from the freezing conditions of the mountain. It was undeniable that you were becoming reduced to something vicious and savage each time Taehyung pulled out to return faster than the last time.

The next time he drove forward, his cock head punched into your belly like a hammer, and he thrust so hard that you lost the air in your lungs once more. Still, you felt the need building into your mind like you were going into heat and his gradual increase of speed would kill you.

You needed him to obliterate you. Completely.

“Alpha, I need you.” You whimpered as you felt a rush of your juices escape from around his girth and spill down your legs. “Please.”

Instead of responding with words, Taehyung acknowledged your need with a new rhythm that rocked your body harshly into the ground. As breathless as you were, you still managed to release a broken cry to the woods as you stretched your arms above your head and let your chest get pressed into the ground.

Taehyung’s tip battered against your walls like it meant to permanently plant itself there if it could just manage to ensure its root in your womb. His hands ensured that you could not hinder him from achieving that.

His cock was thick, almost muscular, as it dragged in and out of your sensitivity. Out of pure, sexually aroused curiosity, you lowered your hand to your abdomen to press your palm into your skin.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

There was no way you imagined it. The werewolf's cock was so large that you didn't think it would surprise you to feel it literally bulging out of your skin, yet your eyes still rolled back in sexual mania when you felt it nudging against your palm through your belly. How was your body even handling it? He was literally rearranging your guts.

Taehyung emitted growl after growl with each of his thrusts, showcasing just how much effort he was putting into sending you to oblivion.

Your back ached from the force of his hips striking into your ass, and he seemed to notice this, so he reached a hand below your belly to slightly raise your lower half from the ground.

Sweat dripped down your forehead and neck due to your effort of accommodating your alpha’s thick cock, but he didn’t let any of it drop to the ground.

All too soon, the Lycan pulled out and flipped you over onto your back so that he could easily access your face with his searching mouth.

Even as he pressed his parted lips to your temple with a small flick of his tongue, his hips still sat themselves right back between your legs, and you felt your slick pussy throbbing desperately for his return to it.

He struggled to voice words and they were so unintelligible that you could mistake them for another growl if you didn’t know any better. The wolf had taken back over his mind and driven him back into the cradles of the wild.

With his hand feverishly guiding himself back into your body, you were free to survey him as he pushed himself to penetrate you again.

His skin glistened in the moonlight, steaming with heat in the cold weather, and his hands were just as hot as his body looked when he used them to grab ahold of your waist and cup your thigh.

Taehyung sat on his heels as he began a slower rhythm, the uncontrollable passion of first mating becoming bearable so that the two of you could enjoy it for the time being. Your mind flashed red and orange as you finally let the fires of his passion consume you.

You wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him into you as he kept his beat, and it is when you did so that he pulled away to look you in the eyes for the first time since he began fucking you.

His upper lip pulled back into a snarl every time he thrusted forward and his teeth were much sharper than you remembered when he smiled at you the first time you met him. His eyebrows remained furrowed as he struggled to decide where he wanted to look; his eyes almost vibrated as he looked between your cunt spreading apart to slurp him in, your breasts bouncing with each collision of his body into yours, or your teary eyes as you tried with all of your might to keep them open so as to not miss a single moment.

Glowing in the moonlight, Sir Kim Taehyung was a sight to behold as he fucked your brains out.

Your clit began pulsing torturously all at once. The curve of his dick dragged inside of you just right and his eyes all over you gave you a sense of pride that drove your confidence up into the sky. Of course, a wolf’s tendency to be proud and protective of its mate was becoming known through his gaze.

His golden eyes communicated so many emotions that you were blind to at first, but now that you were really looking at him, you could see everything he wanted to say floating within the dark abyss of his pupils and the scarce amount of his irises still visible.

Everything Taehyung felt was put in front of you as an offering as he leaned down to lick at your bottom lip.

He felt so lucky to have you.

He wanted you so badly.

He loved you.

His eyes told you everything, although you felt that there was something else at play with how specific each emotion became when you read them.

Because that was all you had to do to understand his intent- read him.

The way his left eyebrow twitched. The way he panted with you. The way his fingers trembled as they held your flesh tightly. Every little movement he made seemed to become a language you only needed to read to understand. How you were able to learn his language so quickly?

You let your lips part for another moan as he resumed his furious beat from earlier and your pussy seized his cock as if it was meant to always stay inside you. He held you tighter against his body, cupping your ass in his fingers and palms almost as if to say ‘I got you, pup.’

Your orgasm built quickly with the new revelation.

One moment, you were bathing in his attention and love, and the next, you were locking your ankles behind his back to brace yourself for the oncoming wash of forbidden bliss.

A rumble vibrated in your chest. It was low and it was wholly yours yet unknown. It was the beginning of the climax you sought and it was the absolute end of what you knew to be your normal state of being. Something within you changed in that moment and you began to exist solely for his love and pleasure.

The rumble was an inhuman growl that seemed to match Taehyung’s when he pressed himself into your cunt with such ferocity that you felt the thickness of what you knew to be the bulb at the base of his dick- his knot. It was the last bit of him you needed to tip over the edge.

“Mate.” He breathed roughly, pushing his knot into your folds more adamantly. “Mate.”

Please, let me knot you.

It wasn’t hard to read the words from his spoken words and movement. Your fear of taking his knot returned and his forehead pressed lovingly onto the top of yours.

Taehyung cupped the underside of your breast. Let me mate you.

He moved his hand down to press into your belly. Let me breed you.

He lowered his panting lips to skim over yours and breathe you in. Let me love you.

You had no more reason to fear him. With his intentions clear, you knew that he would take care of you. He would protect you from anything and everything you feared. In your tiny world of Cordova, Alaska, all that mattered was that he loved you and you were his mate.

With shaky legs, you widened them as your invitation.

The moment his knot successfully bulled into your pussy, you finally let your growl part your cracked lips. You were no longer a human in these moments; you were a Lycan.

At the shift of your humanly paradigm, Taehyung, along with everything around you, became clearer than ever before. The breeze of the mountain separating through the trees and scratching against the bark, the scent of mineral in the earth as it crystallized within the night frost, the light of the moon becoming unnecessary as the vision of your dark night became a midnight day; all of your senses increased to supernatural proportion as Taehyung’s inferno consumed you whole with his invading and swelling knot.

In an explosion that was your first orgasm with the werewolf, you screamed to the sky in a manner similar to that of a divine howl.

Taehyung threw his head back and moaned with you as your walls tightly closed up around his knot, locking him into place further than before. He wrapped his arms around your waist, bit into the flesh of your neck, and ceased his movement with a stutter of his hips to firmly mold his body into yours at every point of touchable skin.

In a scalding torrent of sinful heat, Taehyung’s cum unleashed into you like a hose on full blast, forcefully filling you out until you physically felt it forcing its way through your cervix and into your womb. It was hot and it was plentiful as a look of delirium spread across your face and the two of you rode out your highs.

Each pulse of his dick sent more cum spewing into you and his blockade of a knot kept all of the precious fluid from going anywhere except deeper into your body. The heat of it filling your insides sent a series of shivers along your skin- it didn’t help that every single one of your senses became heightened with your climax. Even with his knot ballooned inside you, you attempted to cant your hips towards him to take it all deeper.

Pressure built in your belly as Taehyung laid atop you for a few moments, yet when he leaned away and looked down at your stomach, you understood that he knew that you felt the pressure.

A strange feeling of mortification, lust, and satisfaction washed over your being when you realized that it was his cum pressuring your body into a slight stretch. Not only did you feel it, but when you followed his gaze to look down at yourself, you could see that there was a slightly distended paunch where you knew his cock to be deeply lodged inside. Somehow, he had plugged himself into you so tightly that your body was left no choice but to accommodate all that he gave no matter the stretch.

And yet, Taehyung still gave more. Bit by bit, ropes of cum added onto the pressure in your belly, little by little. The two of you sat and watched with labored breaths as your stomach, ever so slowly, grew.

“Y/N.” He murmured. You met his eyes after the call of your name and, as you did so, realized that it was the first word he said clearly. The concern in his voice brought you down from your high incredibly fast.

His eyes were back to a beautiful brown as you responded to him. “Taehyung?”

“You…” He furrowed his eyebrows in thought. “You mated with Seokjin?”

As shocked as you were that he knew, you quickly deducted that Taehyung, a werewolf, most likely had the same, uncannily extraordinary sense of smell that the vampire did. He probably could smell the vampire’s blood blessing in your veins.

“I… yes.” You could not lie to him. It felt wrong to lie now that the two of you finally mated.

“I see.” He said. His shoulders visibly sagged with what you figured was disappointment. “Then, why did you mate with me?”

A brief moment of silence passed as you struggled to organize your thoughts. The remnants of your new nature still screamed at you to please him, to love him, to prevent him from feeling upset. Before you could formulate an answer, his facial expression morphed into one of confusion.

“How did you mate with me?”

You mirrored his look with your own confused face. “What do you mean?”

“Y/N,” Ever so lightly, he placed a hand down to your belly. The span of his fingers almost stretched all the way across the enlarged area. “Once mated with one being, the mere thought of getting close to another being is revolting. It would be physically impossible to mate with another, yet…”

Taehyung didn’t finish his sentence. You knew the end of it because it was still very much obvious in the way his dick remained locked inside your body.

“Taehyung, I…” You struggled to find the words to say. “I’m not sure how to explain it.”

Instead, he leaned down quickly and clasped your face in his hands. “You felt it, didn’t you? Our connection- you felt it.” His words were frantic as he brushed his thumb over your cheek and his cock surged with renewed vigor inside you. “You felt what we are. Maybe- nngh-” He groaned as the pressure from within your belly was suddenly released with the deflation of his knot. “Maybe he is not your true mate.”

The cum shoved inside your guts was released all at once, painting your thighs and ass in a flush of fluids. Your legs quaked with the sensation but part of you wished that it would stay inside. What part of you?

The Lycan’s cock pulsed anew and his hips began a slow rock into you again, prompting you to suck in a breath and wrap your arms around his neck in preparation. As tired and fatigued as your body was, you wanted more.

There was no other desire but to be with him and be his. Blearily, you jerked your head up to look at where your bodies began the dance of rejoining again and again and found the sticky residue of his release clinging to not only your thighs but his hips and lower abdomen. Every time he separated from your body, a webbing of his cum joined the two of you together, making the mess of your joining even sloppier.

“Tae,” You whispered, looking up at him.

Gold seeped back into his irises and you watched as his pupils dilated once more. He was still in his rut.

“I’ll make you mine.” He grit the sentence through his teeth as he grabbed onto your hips.

“You- you have to be mine.”

Kim Seokjin heard the two of you before he saw you.

The squelch of your pussy taking in a dick. The labored breathing of two people. The moans you attempted to release only came out as a shudder of an exhale. He couldn’t even imagine how long Taehyung had been fucking his cum into you.

The vampire stopped mere yards from where the two of you found each other and, in your mindless frenzy for each other, neither of you seemed to notice his presence. He scowled through the awestruck lust at the thought of all the trouble the hormonal wolf put him through to get here.

After Taehyung’s scent disappeared across the bay in the direction of the estate, Seokjin knew he had been played by the beast that controlled his brother. He knew that the beast was going after you.

Seokjin came upon the sight he had been wishing for since he first accepted his old friend as your mate.

Your naked bodies lay on the ground amongst the pine needles and leaves, your back to his chest, as Taehyung took you from behind. One of his hands held your neck, craning it upward so that he could mouth at the skin. The other held your leg out and open so that he could spread your pussy wide for his cock.

Seokjin stared, salivating at the vision of your pussy gaped so much that the man’s knot could slightly press into you with every hard, punishing stroke of his hips. Cum already dribbled out of it and messily covered the insides of your thighs, evidence of the fact that Taehyung had already had you over and over again since he lost the vampire on the wild goose chase.

Your eyes were glazed over and your mouth was devoid of any sound while you succumbed to the throes of ultimate, obsessive passion. Taehyung’s lips curled back and pressed against the skin behind your ear as he growled with the possessiveness of an in-rut wolf.

“More.” You had managed to whisper. “Give me more. I need… more.”

The werewolf’s mind was so far gone into the mindset of the beast that even the simplest of sentences was difficult to comprehend. The sounds he produced were guttural and raw, hardly intelligible. “More. Give… more. Mate… more.”

With a snarl, Taehyung picked up his rhythm almost violently. Seokjin watched as you lost your mind again with the pleasure blinding you from any other sensation. Naked body bathed in the moonlight with sweat coating every inch of your skin, you were completely helpless to becoming the perfect, bred bitch for Sir Kim Taehyung.

Seokjin stood as still as any vampire could stand while he watched, enraptured. You took in Taehyung greedily, body naturally adjusting to the cock it was made to take. He watched as Taehyung sunk his canines into the puncture wounds that already existed on your neck. If Taehyung hadn’t given you his venom before, he surely did now.

Seokjin was too late. You were about to become a Lycan and nothing could stop it. A vampire bite wasn’t enough to turn one into a vampire, but the humans were right when they spread werewolf-bite propaganda; just as one would contract rabies from the bite of a rabid dog, one would contract lycanthropy from the bite of a Lycan.

The vampire supposed he was okay with having a Lycan as a Fated One.

He watched as the werewolf pushed his knot into you right before it swelled and locked into place. He watched as your eyes rolled back into your head while the sound of Taehyung’s cum spurting into your womb filled his ears. He watched as your body shuddered and you came to firmly lock the shapeshifter’s knot in you.

He especially watched when your navel became slightly round due to the impossibly large rutting load that the beast shoved through your cervix.

Seokjin felt boneless as he watched the two of you pass out. He went numb as he dropped to his knees and felt all of his stored blood rush straight to the tip of his cock. For a brief few seconds, his mind truly blanked and he thought of nothing but pure bliss at the sight of you orgasming so strongly.

When he came to again, he was weakly leaning up against the tree with cum filling the inside of his trousers. Watching you become satisfied in the way you were was so rewarding to him that he came untouched, yet again.

Happiness filled him to the brim, both his Fated One and his longtime friend had finally found the bond they were searching for with each other. Your joy and passion became his, along with his relief that his brother no longer suffered the self-induced rejection.

Until you, Seokjin never imagined sharing his lovers. Through his few hundred years of sexual abstinence due to his withdrawn nature as a vampire, the idea of sharing his Fated One with another was one he never foresaw. Now that you, the missing part of his soul, came to him in a package that involved another mate, his heart was forced to accept the fact that he would have you in any way that he could- even if you were a Lycan.

Seokjin had all the time in the world to get himself together and brush off the dirt from his pants. The forest was quiet as he carefully approached you in your satiated slumber. Although the both of you had passed out, he knew that the werewolf would awaken at any moment after detecting a scent that did not belong.

Right on cue, the were stirred with an exhausted and defensive growl in his throat. He was still in his rut and very sensitive to movement in a place where there shouldn’t have been.

“Taehyung,” The vampire called as he took another step closer. “Are you in there?”

The werewolf’s gaze was golden as he tried to ward off the intruder with his warmongering eyes. The sound of his own name seemed to barely scratch through the surface of his haze.

The vampire knew the predicament well. “Taehyung, if we don’t take Y/N back to the house, she will get sick. It is too cold for her to stay out here.”

The utterance of your name drew the man from within and pushed the beast to the side easily; only the human side could care for you. The beast was incapable of tending to any needs past the desire for mating, food, and protection.

“Can’t move. Knot.” Taehyung furrowed his eyebrows as his mind struggled to catch up with the fact that he was intelligent again. The sentence he thought he was going to produce went from complete to severely fractured during its journey from his head to his mouth.

“How long before it dispels?” Seokjin wanted to look anywhere but at where Taehyung’s body rooted snugly inside of you to allow his brother some privacy but his eyes were so drawn to the sight of your thoroughly fucked body that he couldn’t help it.

The werewolf grumbled. “Don’t know. Minutes. Many.”

You shifted in your position uncomfortably with a small whine of annoyance. The more canine side of Taehyung rushed to comfort you, loving how much you had begun to sound like one of his kind. He growled lowly in his throat to give you the reply of assurance you needed to fall back asleep.

Seokjin frowned at the plight, knowing very well that Taehyung was also attempting to figure out how to move you without disturbing you. It was particularly difficult for him to think at all, frankly, when his Fated One sounded like a werewolf.

“Did you give her your venom?” Seokjin could smell the sour odor of his brother’s potent saliva, yet your scent remained untainted aside from the fact that some of the were’s venom was circulating in your blood stream. None of it had actually taken into your true scent.

Although Taehyung was still catching his brain up to speed, he still understood Seokjin’s confusion. “Yes.”

Your body was warmer than average, but nothing more than a slight fever caused by the natural reaction to fight off a virus, and the vampire became stumped- by now, you’d be running more than ten degrees hotter and your canines would be manifesting within your jaws.

“She has not begun the transition yet.” Seokjin observed.

Taehyung felt guilty for giving you the bite, but his beast gained too much control at the last moment and gave in to the urge to turn you before he could stop it. Instead of addressing the matter of guilt, he contributed to Seokjin’s confusion.

“Would have taken her. Something not right.”

For a moment, Seokjin thought about the nature of their bond with you. He tossed several ideas over in his head but came to no solid conclusion.

Then, a line in a certain book, given to him by Jeon Jeongguk, flashed before his eyes. If he could just find the damned book, he could understand the inkling of what he suspected a little better.

“Or…” The vampire trailed off, deep in thought. “Or everything is right.”

The icy breeze slowed to a standstill around them.

Happy Birthday to our Werewolf Daddy, Kim Taehyung!

#bangtansorciere #btscreatorscorner #bts #kim taehyung #taehyung #kim seokjin #seokjin #taehyung x reader #seokjin x reader #bts smut #taehyung smut #seokjin smut #taejin #fic: feral #taehyung fic #seokjin fic #bts fic #bts werewolf au #bts vampire au #werewolf!taehyung #vampire!seokjin

[hrokkall]

Could I please be informed more about these delightful kitty cats? No clue about anything warrior cat related but that won't stop me from gushing over the designs and lore >:) <3

Absolutely!

If you’re looking to learn about warrior cats this… probably isn’t the place for that. Considering I’m combing through the core aspects of canon and tossing what I don’t like in the same way a ferret drags interesting pieces of paper under the couch… there’s only so much that aligns with the series proper.

Having said that, I am keeping the four-clan territory system that the core series has, albeit with my own twist. More on those below. (I’m putting this under the cut just because it got a little very long, but here’s the basic layout!)

The basics of what a clan is remain the same as Warriors canon: the long and short is that it’s a clowder of cats with organized leadership. In canon proper the clans operate under “The Warrior Code”, but it’s ridiculously strict and doesn’t fit within the universe I want to built up here, so instead the “Code” is replaced with common goddamn sense. Don’t kill if it’s unnecessary. Don’t over hunt the area. Try not to trespass on cat equivalent of private property. Kitty war crimes are out of the question. Don’t throw babies in the river. Y’know. Stuff like that. (Yes, all of these have been broken multitudinous times in the warriors universe. It’s wild).

Pictured, in order from left to right, top to bottom: Rustclan, Wildclan, Sageclan, Fogclan.

Above just being little groups of cats, however, the clans have both geographical and cultural differences. As mentioned before, the territories are in Canada (British Columbia specifically), so the lay of the land reflects that. Quick research says the landscape would be similar to the boreal cordillera ecozone… which is basically just a conifer forest with some rivers running through it.

Wildclan

Wildclan, also known as “The Wildwoods” is the largest territory of the four, and not for the over-protectiveness of the residents—the undergrowth is simply too difficult to navigate through for those who don’t know the terrain well. A river runs through the westernmost portion, creating a pseudo-“bog” surrounding it. Additionally, it’s the only of the four clans without any twoleg architecture within. Larchstar’s warriors are as fearsome as the feral beasts of the thicket; best to keep a distance unless given clearance by the forest itself.

Landmarks:

The Heartwood: The clan’s meeting place. It’s the hollow shell of a gargantuan tree that refuses to die in spite of its lack of core. Larchstar speaks from the lower boughs and sleeps within the heart itself. Clan camp surrounds this tree, with dens constructed of sticks, foliage, and the occasional rodent hide.

Moongaze Lake: More of a pond than a lake, it’s the perfect place to catch fish away from the territory border streams or—per its namesake—gaze up at the moon without its light being obscured by the dense conifers. Very handy to ensure the clans aren’t late to the Full-Moon meetings.

Huntinghills: Less of an individual landmark and more of a sub-biome, the northeast of Wildclan’s territory is a lot hillier than the rest. The only thing of note this far (aside from being phenomenal hunting ground) is the presence of an eagle’s nest on the outskirts. It’s been long since abandoned, but the tree threatens to break beneath its weight. “The Snow Line” as presented in the game is technically no man’s land—it’s to the VERY back of the Woodlands and no one dares venture too deep lest their bodies become buried beneath the snow. Having said that, the entire forest is chilly enough to get snowfall.

Goldenrock/Slitherstones: A cluster of boulders filled with flecks of something that must be valuable! It’s home to snakes, sure, but... alright, the clans will just admire this one from afar.

The Backbrush: A small thicket that feels out-of-place with the rest of the territory. Despite the other clans’ claims otherwise, this is the one spot in the entirety of Wildclan territory that never sees sunlight, even in the winter when the larch trees shed their needles or on the summer solstice when the sun’s rays threaten to blind the unwary. Only the bravest of birds nest here, but even they refuse to sing. The ground is soft, but no Wildclan cat dares dig.

Fogclan

Though more sparsely forested than its northern counterpart, Fogclan—also known as “The Fogbound Court”—is no less grand. At their core, they are a group of outcasts, but are no worse the wear for it. Don’t let their appearances fool you, Poppystar’s warriors are many; some of the most loyal in the forest. Even if her own motives are transparent as the mist-blanketed forest in which she resides, the multitude of her ranks cannot be denied.

Landmarks:

The Mausoleum: Exactly what it says on the tin. The walls are cracked in more places than not, the wilted bouquets have long since returned to the earth, and most of the epitaphs are worn to the point of illegibility (not that it would matter—the clan cats can’t read). While it technically doubles as the leader’s den, it otherwise remains empty most of the time. The only time cats other than Poppystar are permitted inside are for naming ceremonies and for those who have been injured. The clan camp is set up to the west of the building, with den walls formed from hollowed-out bushes and ground-down tree stumps fitted with branches to keep out the rain.

The Well: Adjacent to the mausoleum, it’s original use is a little bit of a mystery. The crank doesn’t turn anymore and the bucket has been rusted in place. Kits sometimes dare each other to inch close to the edge in a game of chicken. Thankfully, it’s not nearly as deep as it looks; the bottom has long since filled halfway up with mud. Any warrior with decent enough climbing ability can easily pull an unruly kitten out of the muck that lies below.

Boneburrow: The grave above it has been completely reduced to rubble, the grave now home to a North American badger nestled within the rib cage. Cats are advised to stay away, but they are ultimately harmless, if a bit morbid. Seemingly, they’ve existed long before the clans became what they are today, and will likely exist long after—best not to distract them from their work. It’s not like they freely give advice without payment anyway… (This burrow extends to beneath the mausoleum in a secret room with a dirt-packed floor as well if one can stand the closeness of the walls and the fact that long-dead roots that reach far too deep writhe as if they were living serpents… but it would be best to not let everyone know that).

Sharpclaw Grove: A barren circle of long-dead trees that perfectly reach towards the full moon like a warrior’s grasping talons. It’s a wonderful place to meditate or otherwise reflect on clan life…if you can stand the fact that there is no nearby chirp or chatter to answer the drum of your own heartbeat.

The Flowerfields: In stark contrast to the dreary atmosphere of the rest of the territory, the Flowerfields add a pop of much needed color to Fogclan’s grounds. After all, the improperly cut bouquets had to take root somewhere—some of the flowers here aren’t native to British Columbia, but the cats don’t seem to know (or care). The prey on the outskirts of the Flowerfields is plentiful due to some of the plants being food source for them, giving plenty of opportunities for the clan cats to eat (provided they don’t get too greedy).

Sageclan

Sageclan, “The Sages of the Conifer Copse” (or simply “The Sages”) is a bit of an odd duck among odd ducks. The ground was considerably more similar to “wetland” than the others, but has begun to warp into something much less likely to get tangled in one’s fur as of recent--an element evident in the dried-up reeds at the territory’s outskirts that no longer have the proper wetland to thrive. To put them simply, Miststar’s warriors are much the same as their environment: unpredictable... that is, to all except their leader, who guides them with an eerie knack of foresight. At very least, Miststar seems content to keep to himself... no territory spats have been raised by Miststar yet, and it should stay that way. ...Y’know. Double meaning of sage—“sage” as in the plant, and “sage” as in a wizard... I’m so funny.

Landmarks:

The Spire: A rickety twoleg watchtower that has somehow managed to avoid being completely consumed by the peat. The lowest floor is occupied by elders and the wounded, the middle by actively nursing queens/their kits, and the highest by the leader himself. Meetings are held at the base. The clan camp is only a few coyote-lengths away, dens with walls made of hard-packed earth that the sun has dried into shimmering mudstone.

Lifeblood Weir: A particularly large tributary in the middle of the territory wherein a multitude of little rivers meet. Larger fish must pass through here to get through Sageclan territory, making it a fantastic fishing spot for any who are so inclined. The Sages at one point constructed a “dam” to keep the fish there for longer, but it has since been destroyed for reasons Miststar will not reveal, remaining in name only.

Mire’s Maw: Formerly a flat of dry land, this was discovered to, in fact, be a cavernous sinkhole by Newtpaw on his hunting assessment (who, much to Miststar’s disappointment, did not catch the magpie he was assigned and therefore had to complete another moon of apprenticeship). That should, by all logical reason, explain why all the uncovered caves are devoid of life; they would not thrive beneath unstable ground. But Miststar seems to sense otherwise. Miststar is—by his own orders—the only one to crawl within the labyrinth… barring Newtpuddle, who sneaks in anyway. It’s incredible how dark a cave can get after only a few strides beneath the surface...

Paw of Echodust: A cluster of boulders in the northern portion of the territory that, when viewed from the top of the Spire, appear to be the pads of a paw. Whether the cat whose moniker was used actually existed or is merely legend remains unknown.

Rustclan

Rustclan, or “The Rustthorn Outskirts” was formerly the smallest territory of the four. The “main” area adjacent to the Talkingstones is a dried-up section of bog that bleeds over from the peat of Sageclan and the dense forests of Wildclan. As of recently, Sparkstar has more than doubled their active territory by expanding into the nearby (abandoned) scrapyard, his warriors claiming that it had “slain” the monsters that resided there (a misnomer it did not bother correcting them on). His clannmates respect him immensely as a result... even if his behavior... no need to put this formally, this is a tumblr post. He’s kind of a dick. His warriors are as scrappy as the junk they reside in, but they’re certainly clever, as much as it pains certain other leaders to admit. At very least, Sparkstar has the decency to make his goals clear-cut... until his disappearance, that is.

Landmarks:

The Bastion (known to the other clans as the “Monster’s Hide”), a particularly large truck bed that P03 talks from (the “Leader’s den” is behind the wheel, as he crawls in through one of the broken windows). As with the other clans’ major landmarks, meetings take place here. The clan camp surrounds it, cats either sleeping inside of smaller cars with broken windows or within dens made of branches and discarded metal.

Chime Tree: A deciduous tree that sprouts in the middle of the scrapyard, multitudinous bottles tied to its boughs by twolegs in what can only be assumed to be some sort of abandoned art project. When the wind picks up, it rushes through the broken glass and makes the entire thing hum in a cacophony of clattering glass. The Rustclan cats find it peaceful, but nine times out of ten anyone else visiting the territory would vehemently disagree.

The Killing Bush/Rattling Bush: A snake’s nest on the territory that kits are told to largely steer clear of, a habit that oftentimes stays engrained into full-fledged warriors as well. In reality, it’s mostly harmless: the snake is not a rattlesnake as the clan assumes, but rather a bull snake.

The Old Camp: Located much closer to the river, this is exactly what it says on the tin. They’ve been empty for many moons now, and as such have begun to fall apart. If nothing else, though, they provide a more secure home for prey in the winter: a semi-reliable food source if the moles that take refuge in the scrapyard decide to hibernate early.

???: A twoleg relic on the outskirts of the silverthorn fence (though no Rustclan cat could dream of having the core strength to move it). It’s halfway stuck in the riverbed, has webs of cracks scattered across its face, and has been covered by high-tide more than once. Yet it still flickers and shows as if full of coordinated fireflies. (Not that it could be. Not even the fish dare approach it. It must be something else... right?) (It remains unnamed. Only Sparkstar knows of its existence, and he resolves to keep it that way.)

Neutral Territory

Of course, not everything is claimed by the clan cats. These areas are considered neutral, or otherwise belonging to something/someone else that the clans can’t (or shouldn’t) have claim over.

Luke’s Den: Plot-conveniently close to the outskirts of Rustclan and Wildclan, it’s a little house where Luke and his twoleg reside. It’s a thirty minute drive to the nearest civilization, yes, but the property was cheap and the views are phenomenal... if you can ignore the rumors that the junkyard is haunted. And that the house might also be haunted. (…Hey, Luke’s twoleg has lived in far worse shitholes before. A couple of ghost stories aren’t going to turn him away from a good deal.)

The Talkingstones: Surrounded by a shallow river on all sides, the Talkingstones serve as a meeting place for the four clans every full moon. The only actual resident is a loner named Rebecha… but quite frankly, she doesn’t seem to want anything to do with the clans. She maintains the meeting grounds, she gets to stay. Easy as that. That way, she only has to listen to the leaders’ egotistical bullshit once a month while still raking in the protection the clans provide. It’s a win-win!

Rootrot Cavern: Between the territories of Wildclan and Fogclan lies another pseudo-island. It’s minuscule in comparison to the territories, but the cave system beneath is so vast and sprawling that you’d hardly take notice (miraculously, it has never once flooded, even when the rain comes down in buckets). It’s supposedly empty—no one can live off of only frogs and the air is so choked with spores it’s well-nigh impossible to breathe—but everyone knows of the cat(s?) that lives there. Rumors change from tongue to tongue: maybe there’s only one, perhaps two, perhaps somewhere in-between. Only one thing remains constant: they can heal you of any ailment, no matter how terminal. However, you will never come back the same… ...Probably best to keep visitations to this place to a minimum. Even if the cat(s) never shows their face(s), its only other purpose is to gaze into What Lies Beneath in the pool at the cave’s heart. This, too, should only be reserved for the most dire of circumstances. The living do not belong there, and the Beneath makes that policy very clear.

#Stoat speak #Re: Inbox #Re: Anon #I wasted my creativity on other aspects of the au #so the clan names are kinda shit #Battle cats AU #Hrokkall Sketch

[ladyramora]

Ibis x Zenos PWP ❤️ Commission

Lemon (apple) PWP (Porn With Plot)

Ship: Zenos x WoL (Ibis, female Au Ra)

Mild Endwalker Spoilers? Stormblood Spoilers Under the Cut ↓↓↓

Warnings: Explicit. FFXIV Canon Violence, Blood, Rough Sex, Biting, Scratching, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Cunninlingus, Size Difference, Garlean Dongs, Vaginal Penetration, Tail Sex, Anal Sex with an Au Ra Tail, Inexperienced Zenos, Virgin Zenos. Choking, Asphyxiation, Cursing. Zenos gets off on the idea of dying by WoL's hand.

Set sometime during quest 83, but written before Endwalker dropped, so not Canon Compliant.

…..

….

…

Ahh, there she was. His friend, his beloved enemy.

The Warrior of Light. No. Ibis.

There Ibis sat, slumped upon Zenos's newly acquired throne. Her skin and hair pale as the silvery moon that her scales and horns gleam under, reflecting the cold light. There was an otherworldly, dangerously fey beauty about her like this. As if she were a sleeping goddess upon a pedestal, not to be touched or woken by the unclean hands of mortals far below her.

Zenos prowls closer, his head tilting as he gazes upon her with monstrous blue eyes. Watching and waiting, wondering if this was merely a game she was playing. Was his beast lying in wait, indulging him in the Hunt? Luring him into a false sense of security with her supposed vulnerability, only to tear into him with teeth and claw and gorge herself on his blood if he dared step too close?

Zenos hummed throatily, a slow smile curling his lips as he looked at her, his eyelashes lowered in pleasure with the mere imagining; and walked purposefully towards her. Thrilled with the possibility that she would come alive, all roiling rage and rancor, to again begin their dance anew as they had done before.

Zenos reaches out — forced to kneel at her feet due to their large difference in size — to trail his fingers over the curve of her cheek, her skin and scale cool to his touch as he caresses her face and cradles her cheek in his palm. His thumb tracing over the edge of her scales along her jaw as he murmurs throatily, "My beast," in desperate want to see those eyes of hers. If he possessed the eyes of a monster, the gaze of a beast, then so did his dearest friend and enemy. Feral and furious and cruel, she could strip a man to the bone with the force of her gaze alone.

Zenos hums, leaning closer, his golden hair slipping over his shoulder as he traced her lips with his thumb, tugging at that supple flesh to expose the hint of her teeth. The fangs that would bite down on his jugular soon enough if all went the way he hoped it would.

A dainty hand grips his wrist, bruising in force and hard enough to grind bone as her eyes snap open. Pinning him with that fierce stare of hers as she bares her teeth at him and snaps out at his hand. Her fangs dig into the soft fleshy part between his thumb and pointer finger, deep enough to draw first blood.

"There you are," Zenos purrs, squeezing at her jaw hard. Only delighting in the pain she gives to him as she bites at him harder like she would take a chunk out of his hand.

She swings at him then, the force of her punch snapping his head to the side in a burst of stars behind his eyes. For such a tiny thing, her strength was undeniable. Zenos laughs, tonguing his cheek and tasting blood. Twice now she had already drawn his blood. This already proved promising.

She is quick to her feet. Not even standing taller than him with the garlean prince kneeling and her standing at her full height. Hahh… Such power in that tiny body of hers. Zenos wanted her to destroy him in every way she knew how. There was surely more she had learned in her time apart and Zenos wanted her to show him, to give him everything. All rage and roiling rancor.

"There you are, beast," he murmurs with strange affection, tipping his head back as he looks at her, his open collar bearing his throat. The dangling jewel of his new jewelry likely drawing her eye.

Aye. It was more skin she was used to seeing from him without all his bulky armor. Even a bit of his chest was exposed, her eyes zeroing in on a freckle there, standing out on his pale skin. A surprising point of charm for her enemy that fills Ibis with a particular urge to sink her teeth around that little spot. Ibis swallows against the dryness in her mouth and the familiar flood of heat that Zenos ever inspired in her.

"Get up," She hisses at him. "Unless you want to die on your knees like a fool."

Zenos laughs. A soft chuckle that grew into rolling, joyously manic laughter as he rose slowly to his feet. Towering over her in height and bulk, their difference in size so large it was almost humorous. Stood against him, she was a tiny, dainty slip of a woman. No one could possibly guess all the power she held. Enough, without a doubt, to bring a monstrous Garlean of Zenos' size and caliber to his knees yet again. He fairly vibrated with excitement to stand before her once more, his heart already beating out of time for their final battle to again be so close at hand.

His beast, unfortunately, seems… distracted. Her gaze does not focus solely on him, her eyes sweeping over every shadowed nook and cranny. Wary, searching. For the Ascian?

Zenos frowns. "This dance is ours, hero. There will be no cutting in or changing partners. I will not allow any interference on the Ascian's part. I have waited for you long enough. I will not allow my fun to be spoiled when I finally have you within my grasp." Looking at her now he could see that she had already seen much battle, the Ascian's plans had delayed their reunion overlong. What a shame she could not fight him fresh and well rested, but the challenge, the chase was all part of the Hunt.

Ibis turns her gaze on him then, her red eyes narrow and her smile vicious. "If you were yearning for me so badly, you should have made me a path straight to you."

Zenos smiles back with wicked glee, blue eyes gleaming with manic delight. "Hah! Where is the fun in that, my beast? I would not provide you with good sport for the Hunt were I to roll out the red carpet for you."

Ibis steps down from the throne, her stride confident. The swagger of a well experienced warrior, the prowling gait of a predator stalking prey. "No, instead you send me a fully armed battalion, to… what? Remind me of your obsession? A sappy letter works just as well. You could send me a lock of your pretty hair, or the heart of one of my enemies. But no, you don't do things by halves, do you? Was it really necessary to threaten to end the world just to get my attention?"

Zenos watches her with hooded eyes, seeming smugly satisfied as he purrs, "You are here now, are you not? You have made your own path of red underfoot besides. Let the world burn and crumble at our feet, I care not. You, my enemy, my dearest friend, are all that matters to me. You; and our glorious dance. Lo, you have done as I bid you. You endured, survived for the sole pleasure left to me in this—"

"—empty, ephemeral world. Yes, I know. I heard you the first time," Ibis rudely interrupts him, rolling her eyes. "Next you will say something about biting down on your jugular, surely. Did you intend to talk me to death, or are we ever going to fight? You want to dance or not?"

Zenos smiles, his eyes squinting with the force of his pleased approval. Not seeming bothered at all by Ibis mocking him. In fact, it only seemed to please him all the more. "My, you do have a keen memory, recalling all I have said to you word for word. Yet it is of no surprise. You feel the same as I, do you not? That every moment between us is so very vivid, so real. Would that we could dance for eternity…" Zenos sighs, utterly rapturous and they had yet to even truly start.

Fuck. Of course she remembered most every word the Garlean Prince said. He had near purred every one to her, even when he was wearing that ugly ass helmet that had distorted his velvety bedroom voice. She knew he had been excited. She had felt it, too. A challenge like none other before. Since her early adventuring days when she had barely begun there had been challenges, brushes with death, but never had she been so swiftly and soundly defeated as that first encounter with Zenos. He had rekindled a flame in her that had begun to dim. Reminded her what it was to be truly challenged, to push herself past her limits.

If Ibis were honest, she had been looking forward to this reunion, too. It lit her up from the inside, her blood already rushing as her heart sped up with excitement. The rush of danger and thrill that a worthy opponent posed, the strange and perverse excitement she felt for it to be Zenos and Zenos alone. Not that she would ever say any of it to his face. Instead she moves towards him in silence as he beckons to her, "Come, my beast."

With a burst of motion on both sides do they clash, lunging forward to meet in the middle. The swing of Ibis' fist stopped short of his face by the curved blade of Zenos'.... scythe? Huh, that was new. It was not the only thing, either. Ibis had not failed to notice the Garlean Prince was sporting a new set of battle attire. She had never seen Zenos out that full, bulky armor he had clanked around in before. He seemed at once smaller and fancier this way. As if he had dressed up just for her, for a special occasion. Irritatingly enough, it suited him. He was all shiny and new.

"Learned a few tricks while I was away, have you?" Ibis asks. Noticing the creature that crept from the void and hovered behind him, she adds, "And made more than one new friend, I see."

Zenos sends her skidding back with a swing of his scythe, tossing his luminous golden hair as he hooked the large weapon over his shoulder. "Friends?" Zenos very much sneered the word. "No. You are my one and only," he insists. "As for tricks, I should be most glad to show you my all. And in return, you will entertain me, yes?"

Gods, was he feeling nostalgic or what?

Ibis lunges towards him, raining down several blows that the garlean prince returns in equal measure. It seemed they were again well matched. For all her abilities, for all she had been through on the First, Zenos must have kept himself in top form just to meet her on even ground. After all, every time they had fought she had only grown stronger when next she came to meet his challenge.

She hits again and again, not pulling punches or kicks, but Zenos meets her every strike with those of his own.

She kicks out at him and Zenos grabs her ankle, swinging her in a perfect circle before flinging her to crash against the nearest hard surface. It knocks the wind out of her for a moment, Zenos prowling towards her with that same sauntering walk. Ibis lurches to her feet and takes a running start, jumping up and kicking out at his chest feet first. Sending him stumbling back as she snaps her leg out again, catching him across the jaw.

Zenos laughs, joyous and manic, his hair curtaining his face a moment before he looked at her with a bright, feverish, gaze. Hungry. Monstrous. "Yes, this… This is what I've longed for! Come, show me all that you have learned! Give me everything!"

Ibis was only too happy to oblige him. The two of them trading blows. Zenos backhanding her across the face hard enough to make her see stars. The floor cracking beneath Ibis with the force of her leap as she smashes her fist into his nose in return.

Zenos grins at her as blood drips down from his nose. A red line that spilled over his lip and chin before his tongue swiped out to lick it away. Twelve, how big was his tongue?? It should not be so erotic. It should not turn her on at all, but Ibis feels a resulting throb in her lower belly and gush of wetness between her thighs all the same.

"Yesss," Zenos hissed, and moaned, "Give me all your rage. Your hate. Set my soul aflame once more! Show me your light, pure and blinding and hot—so very hot."

Ugh. Ibis flushed hot. This unfairly handsome fucker. Did he always have to moan at her like that? Who said things like that to their enemy, besides?

Gods, she wanted to bash his face in just as much as she wanted to sit on it. To yank all his gorgeous hair out and smother him in her cunt as she rode that tongue. She wanted him to growl and purr all that ridiculous shite he was wont to spout between her thighs and make her cum. She wanted to ride his cock at a gallop until she exhausted him, make him cum so many times that she milked his balls dry. She wanted to rip his head off from the scarred seam of where he had pressed his blade and sliced his own throat. Bastard had offed himself in front of her and all the Scions. Fuck, it had filled her with such rage to witness. He had deprived her of her Hunt, her Prey. How dare he?!

From the moment she had learned he was still alive, Ibis had imagined all that she might do. How their next battle might go, for surely Zenos would once again crave the feeling of euphoria that only she could offer him. Here and now it was her chance. To bring him low, to make him yield to her might. To make him hurt and bleed and feel. All that and more, for the plans that Ibis had for him. This would be a dance like no other.

It is with that thought in mind that has Ibis grasping for a different soul crystal, the whispers of dark knights of ages past granting her their knowledge and strength as the crystal warmed in her grasp and surged through her. With a burst of aether, she is attired in different armor, her great sword slung smoothly from her back to crash against the bulk of Zenos' scythe.

Zenos looks at her with a feral smile, eyes wild, wide and full of manic glee. Relishing her violence, the wealth of rage and passionate feeling in her eyes that glittered like blood soaked rubies.

Ibis bares her teeth at him in a snarl twice as feral — and though she was far smaller than what was his massiveness, she pushes him steadily back through her streng alone.

"Ahh, there she is," Zenos crooned to her in a voice like warm velvet. Obsessive, possessive as he murmured in a throaty, raspy growl, "My beast."

Ibis shoved him hard enough to make him stumble, sneering, "I am not yours," even as some part of her — the dark and lustful part of her, no doubt — thrilled at the possessive way he called her. Desiring that warped and wicked affection he held for her.

"I'll tear you to pieces!" Ibis declares, swinging her sword that was twice as big as she was effortlessly, slicing through the air where Zenos has only just stood and cleaving into the ground. A few pieces of golden hair floating to the ground where her blade had caught his lustrous mane.

"Yes, I do so love your savagery. Come, my hunter. Make me your prey. Rip my heart from my chest, and sink your teeth into it. Gorge yourself upon my blood and flesh as on you can, as the truly savage beast you are! Rend, tear, kill!" Zenos crows, his excitement stirred to new heights at witnessing Ibis with a blade in her hands.

And so their dance resumes, blow by blow. Grueling, intense, gratuitously violent.

At some point both of their weapons go flying, far out of immediate reach, and they take to grappling one another, evenly matched despite their extreme size difference. Grappling evolves to wrestling, taking one another to the floor to roll about. A struggle for dominance as they attempted to muscle their frenemy into submission.

Zenos has the advantage of size, but Ibis used her thick, strong tail to even the odds. Preventing herself from being fully pinned by him. Though Zenos did try until they were both panting from the exertion of it all. Hair mussed and armor askew from grasping and pulling hands.

Zenos ends up on top, his larger frame pressed up against her snuggly, intimately. His big hands easily held captive both her wrists to restrain her. The prince sliding his free hand up over her body to encircle her throat. No doubt meant to be threatening for all the harm he could do with her like this, but Ibis only feels a surge of heat, of desire as he ran his hand over her heavy, practically pawing at her.

His eyes hooded with dark satisfaction, the blue of his eyes compelling as his full lips curled with evil delight. Ibis wanted to sink her teeth into that plump flesh.

Lunging upward against the shackle of his hand around her wrists, she does just that. Sinking her teeth into his full bottom lip until she tasted his blood. Crashing her mouth against his and kissing him with as much passion as she showed him on the field of battle.

With eyes wide open is she witness to the way Zenos reacts. The widening of those monstrous blue eyes, the shock that comes over his face. The way he stiffened against her as if he did not know how to respond to her or what to do with her. Hah, was he inexperienced in this? That came as a surprise. Ibis had been under the assumption that Garlean royalty would be more than knowledgeable of the pleasures of the flesh. That he might have even been schooled in this as much as he was learned of the art of battle. Lust, too, could prove a weapon, after all. Perhaps this was something that had been aught of disinterest for the Garlean prince. It seemed these feelings, too, were aught that only she could inspire in him. Well then, she would happily bask in this revelation.

Ibis bites savagely at his mouth more than kisses him. She nips sharply at his full lips, tugging and very nearly gnawing on him for how hard her bite is. Yet her feral ferocity only makes Zenos finally moan, his tense posture loosening up as he was drawn into her lustful whims.

His parted lips allowing her to slip her tongue behind his teeth and taste the copper of his blood lingering in his mouth from where she had struck him so many times.

Zenos clutches at her face, cushing his lips to hers as he thrust his tongue out to meet her, clumsily. All but confirming the raen's earlier suspicions.

Their difference in size was overly apparent and to his advantage as his hands easily encompassed her face, his fingers gapped so as not to bother her horns as he sucked at her tongue. His tongue is large as the rest of him, filling her mouth and mapping out her teeth. Tracing her fangs as if he wanted her to bite him again and again.

Well, if he wanted her to bite him, Ibis was all too happy to oblige him. She grasps a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back to bite her way down from his lips over his jaw to his throat where she sank her teeth in. Her lips catching and rubbing against the new jewelry he adorned himself with as she trailed down to bite at the scar on his throat where he had drawn his own blade against himself. His growling groan rumbles through her, his fingers twining in her hair as he tugged her into him, hissing out a sultry, "Yesss…!"

Ibis sank her teeth into his skin again and again, sucking bruising marks into his flesh. Very much enjoying the way she drew reactions from him, the desperation as Zenos clung to her and writhed underneath her.

Ibis yanks hard at the collar of his fancy new coat, baring more skin to her without yet making quick work of the fastenings.

There it was. That charm point. The freckle on his chest had called for her to bite around. As if it were marking the spot for her to sink her teeth into. Aught that Ibis does with great relish, delighting in the way that Zenos hissed and purred and goaded her on, his fingers slipping into her hair and cradling her head as he arched his back to thrust his chest out. His invitation could not be more clear. For Ibis to leave her mark on him as she pleased. And oh, did it please her.

As Zenos had said before, the hunger filled her even now, but it was not only the type of hunger he spoke of then. Yes, it was the thrill and adrenaline rush of battle, but it was also that coil of heat that tightened in her belly. The ache between her thighs, the flood of desire that soaked her smalls. It was lust, pure and so very hot. Lust for the man beneath her that had so far gone unquenched and unslaked. Until now.

Now she would indulge in that hunger, in this insatiable lust she had used in part to fuel their battles. It was all his fault, truly. Talking to her the way he did, purring his words that sounded more like a come on than any sort of mid-battle banter. The way he looked at her with that lazy, sultry stare. As if she were the only thing worth looking at. As if his whole world narrowed down to her and their dance. Ibis wanted to destroy him. To ravish and ravage him so thoroughly that she truly would be all he could think of. She would leave her mark on him, stain him so thoroughly in her essence that he could taste her, smell her long after. No, this would not be the end. He would not take this from her. She would make him yield, make him hers. They would dance again and again until she said otherwise.

His coat is barely a barrier to her as Ibis tears it open, aught that was underneath cleaved between her hands to bare more of his flesh to her. Hmm, yess, he had great tits. Ibis pawed and squeezed at his chest, and then leant forward to suck and bite harshly at his nipples. Laughing at the way Zenos hissed and cursed, grasping at her hair but not stopping her. Hmm, yess, he wanted this just as much as she did!

"Nice tits. If I were a man I'd push em' together and fuck em," she says crudely with a laugh. Actually, why couldn't she? With that thought, Ibis sat slightly up and slipped her tail forward between her thighs, practically sitting on his chest and grinding her cunt on the texture of her tail as she squished his chest together and slid her tail between the swell of his pecs made by her squeezing hands.

Zenos gazes at her with wild eyes, pupils blown wide with lust as Ibis parts her lips to let drool slip from her tongue to slick the way of her tail. His lips were red and puffy from her aggressive attention, his expression hazy and almost dazed. It made Ibis feel dizzy, waves of lust crashing over her. She presses her tail forward, rubbing her tail against his lips and groaning her approval as Zenos opened his mouth to the tip of it.

"I could fuck you with this, you know. Make you see stars, if I wanted," Ibis growls softly, her tail rubbing against his tongue. Zenos moaned, his mouth opening more, wider for Ibis to slip her tail in further. The Garlean prince licking at her, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked at the tip. His bruised lips stretching around the girth of her thick tail oh so prettily.

"I could bounce on your cock and fuck your ass at the same time," Ibis says filthily, thrusting her tail into his mouth and wriggling it. Taking wicked delight in the way Zenos groaned, his pale skin flushed so prettily as his eyelashes fluttered.

"Or maybe you want me to fuck your throat, make you choke on my tail as you slowly asphyxiate," Ibis hisses, pressing her tail deeper. Even for his larger size, her tail was much girthier than the inside of his mouth. Ibis laughs wickedly as she presses her hand against the bulge of it in his throat. Zenos gagging around the thickness of her tail, those pretty blue eyes watering and rolling in their sockets as his skin flushed a delectable red. Hmph, he seemed to get off on it, still. Did he like being choked by her? Or was it merely the idea of dying by her hand that made him cream his criminally tight trousers? Whatever the case, he certainly was a kinky fucker.

She supposed they were well suited in this way. She quite liked seeing all these new expressions on his face, these fascinating, arousing reactions she pulled from him. She wanted him to show her more, everything he had. To fall to pieces beneath her and know blissful, agonizing pleasure. To indulge in these perversions, every single sinful whim.

Such thoughts only make her hotter, and impatient for more. Desiring something more than the sensation of her tail. Ibis pulls her tail from his bulging throat, laughing at the way he panted, his face wet with his own drool. "Enough foreplay," she licks at her lips, slinking down his body and tearing open his trousers.

The burning red of her gaze intense as his cock springs free into her waiting hands. Very much proportionate, he was possessed of significant girth. Her fingers struggled to meet as she worked her hands around him, her smile savage sharp as Zenos hissed and canted his hips up into her grip.

Twelve, he was big. It would be a go of it trying to fit all that inside of her, but Ibis was nothing if not a woman up to the challenge.

She squeezed him hard, leaning forward to lick at the salty fluid leaking from the tip. Sucking at the spongey, mushroom head and chuckling low in her throat as Zenos makes a strangled, desperate sound as he throbs in her hand. "What's the matter? Never had your dick sucked before?"

Zenos huffed out a shuddering breath, only gazing at her silently as she drew her tongue over him from base to tip in long, lewd licks. Sliding over him slick with saliva as she deliberately drooled for him. Wetting him enough to stroke her hands over him and fondle his balls.

Yes, this was more than good enough.

Ibis positions herself over his lap, teasing herself by rubbing his tip against herself. Sliding through the wet heat between her folds and bumping against her clit as she slowly pressed him against her. Sinking in slightly then out again as she adjusted to the thickness of him. Her mouth falling open as she finally sank down, his tip popping in to sink inside her. Slow, easy at first. He filled every ilm, stretching her open impossibly wide.

So of course Zenos grasped her hips and forced her down on him far too fast in the clumsiness of an overzealous virgin feeling pleasure for the first time. Her back bowed, her head snapping back as she choked out, "Fuck, you fucker!" as he molded her to the shape of his cock by thrusting up against her and tugging her down on him by his hold on her hips. Hahh, he was really treating her as if she were his fuck toy!? Ibis, struck dumb by the feel of him, allows him to use her for a moment.

Just a moment before she wrests back control and shows Zenos who the one really getting fucked here was. If either of them was a fuck toy, he was certainly hers for the taking for all the ways she could break him in. A cock she could ride and holes she could stuff! His body untouched by any other, all that she could claim so thoroughly and completely that he would crave her touch for the rest of his days.

With such lustful thoughts and every intention to go through with them, it is then that Ibis decides to go ahead with pressing her tail between the well sculpted cheeks of his ass. Rubbing her tail against the tight ring of muscle and feeling a thrill at Zenos jolted, his hands on her hips bruising as he threw his head back and moaned at the feel of her tail wriggling against him, dipping ever so slightly inside. His untried hole no match for the strength of her tail. Without much lube aside from his own spit from her stuffing her tail down his throat, he was no doubt feeling the aching stretch. If Ibis had thought she'd be fucking Zenos' ass, ever, she might have prepared herself with lube at all times. As it was, she rakes her nails over his chest and abs before planting her hands against him to ride his princely cock.

And that is when Fandaniel shows up.

The Ascian a few words into some sort of comedic spiel when he stops short, taking in the scene. Ibis almost entirely clothed, Zenos in stages of ruined dress with her tail in his ass, his cock buried in her pussy. The two of them not stopping even as the Ascian makes his appearance.

He clears his throat loudly, "Ahem."

They pay him no mind. Zenos fairly trembling under her as Ibis bounces on his cock and at the same time truly starts to grind and rub and thrust her tail into him in search of his sweet spots. Even the tip of it was likely too much of a stretch for his formerly virgin ass, but Ibis had to admit he took it like a champ. Or maybe he just relished in all the pain she could give him. Everything she could make him feel.

Fandaniel plants his hands on his hips and frowns. "Really? You both intend to ignore me??" This development was new and far too strange. What of his — their — plans? The world must end, they all must end, and Fandaniel would not allow the licentious whims of these pathetic, lustful creatures to get in the way of what was inevitable.

"What was your plan, then? Using his obsession for you to put a stop to my nefarious plot?" Fandaniel giggles madly. "Poor, sweet hero. You truly are a fool."

Zenos gives an agitated sigh, growling out, "You were told not to interrupt," as he lifts a hand from Ibis's hip and a scythe materializes in his hands in a puff of void darkness. Ibis stills atop him. Had he been able to do that the whole time??

She watches as the prince jerks his arm, an attack fueled by his irritation tearing towards Fandaniel and demolishing everything where the Ascian had just stood.

Fandaniel survives it, unfortunately. Reappearing in a portal of darkness, he stares in silence at the both of them for a prolonged pause, disgust twisting the features of the body he possessed. It reminded Ibis of the words Asahi had spoken to her when he was still alive, well and thoroughly obsessed with Zenos: Go on, lash out.

Well, she would, but she was far too busy right now. Destroying Fandaniel could wait until after she had fucked Zenos' brains out.

Still, she laughs out loud at the sheer ridiculousness of his suggestion. "Do you truly think you have anything to do with this? No, this is solely between Zenos and I. I am the Hunter, and he the Prey," Ibis says, smiling all the more wickedly for the way Zenos shudders under her and hisses out his approval. Yes, he would like that. Ibis had come to understand that Zenos craved that, to have her full attention. To be the object of her focus, all her rage and wrath. Well, now he would come to intimately know what it was to be the object of her unslakable lust, as well.

"In this moment, he is my focus, all I care about. Until we finish this, however it ends, you do not exist to me. The world does not exist. Only myself, and Zenos, and the rush of blood." Ibis watches the way the Ascian's expression twists, the barest of mirco expressions. Somehow, she had a feeling Fandaniel needed her, Ibis, and not Zenos. He had used Zenos to get to her, aye, had been the one to use the Garlean prince's obsession with his dearest friend and beloved enemy for his own ends. He needed Ibis for something to do with his plans, and as such could not go through with truly ending the world without her.

"...Do what you will," Fandaniel finally says, his expression smoothing out again to that pleasant indifference. He who did not care that the world would end, he who would see this star and all who resided on it perish. "I had thought my lord's fixation to be one-sided, but it appears I was wrong. You… truly are mutually obsessed with each other. Hahah... What if I were to end the world around you, so lost as you are within each other?"

Ibis cocks her head. "I suppose if that were your plan, I'd have to leave Zenos unsatisfied. I think he would be quite cross with you should that happen," Ibis smirks, gazing down into Zenos' blissed out face. He was obviously still feeling smugly good that she had declared him her one and only focus. She strokes her knuckles over his cheek, watching his eyelashes flutter as she cooed to him, "What say you, my friend, my enemy, my lover?"

Zenos gives a rumbly hum, blue eyes bright and pale skin flushed. A lazy smile on his lips as he agreed with her, "Quite so, my beast."

Ibis squeezed his face with an approving smile. Purring to the prince, "Good boy," and watching the way his pupils dilated. Feeling the pulse of his cock between her thighs and of him clenching down around her tail. Hohh, liked being praised, did he? It must be new for him to hear it from anyone other than those bowing and scraping to his most glorious radiance. Ibis doubted his father, who did not bat an eyelash when he had "died", had ever offered him a single kind word, let alone praised him.

The disgust Fandaniel feels watching them is obvious as he mutters, "I have had my fill of this spectacle. Be quick about it, will you? I tire of waiting." He is gone then, vanishing into the void as all the Ascians she fought before had done.

Ibis promptly returns her attention to Zenos, eyebrows arching. "Now then, where were we?" She asks, wiggling her hips atop him and wriggling her tail inside of him.

Zenos groans, but his smile is the largest she had seen on his face since his unhinged mania in Ala Mhigo. Yet it was different. Almost… happy, dare she think it. If a man like Zenos could even feel such things.

"Do continue, my lover," the Garlean prince purrs to her.

Well, what could Ibis do then but do as he asked and give him more?

Ibis rises up on her knees, the length of him very nearly slipping out, just the tip remaining inside her for all that she squeezed around him and clung to his massive girth. She swirls her hips clenching down on him hard and sank back down again. Fucking herself back onto his cock as her tail resumed fucking into him and rubbing at his insides.

She presses deep with her tail, seeking out his pleasure spot. She knows when she finds it, Zenos jerking so hard beneath her that his cock buried in her deep. Ibis moaned out, laughing even as her pussy throbbed and spasmed around him. It felt so very good to be so full, to finally have him under her, inside of her.

Ibis inhales deep, breathing out a shaky and lustful breath. Narrowing her eyes at Zenos as he lay there, gazing at her with a heavy lidded stare, his hair spread out on the ground gold and gleaming.

"Do you intend to sit back as I do all the work?" Ibis demands.

Zenos shrugs his shoulders, lips stretching in a lazy smile. "Tis a pleasure to watch you. But tell me, what do you desire of me?"

Ibis rocks herself atop him, Zenos practically confirming her earlier assumptions. He had never done this before.

"Move your hips. Use all you feel for me and fuck me like you hate me, like you want me dead," Ibis tells him heatedly, moving astride him.

Zenos' eyelashes flutter as he groans, his hands grasping her hips as he does as she commands. His fingers digging harshly into her soft flesh, the movement of his hips stabbing his cock inside of her. An entirely different blade for him to use against her.

Ibis moans, meeting every thrust of his hips, squeezing and pulsing rhythmically around the shape of him inside of her.

The air fills with the lewd sounds they made. The slap of skin meeting skin, the squelch of his cock sinking inside her wet heat. The hitched, guttural little sounds Zenos made as Ibis fucked him right back on her tail.

His hands squeeze hard at her hips, his mouth fallen open in choked breath as Ibis milks that spot inside of him for all it was worth. Feeling him twitch and pulse inside of her. His ass clenching around the girth of her wriggling tail inside of him as he cums, far too soon for the disgruntled Warrior of Light.

She growls, fucking herself down on him in chase of her own release. For a blessing, Zenos stays hard for a while after cumming. Long enough, at least, that Ibis gets her own. Her head tilting back as she grasped and clawed at her chest, her pussy strangling Zenos' sensitive cock. The raen laughing breathlessly as Zenos hissed and grit his teeth. He does not yield or beg mercy, instead using his grasp on her hips to move her up and down on him like he had done before. Delighting in the delicious sounds he pulls from her as her orgasm extends, Ibis cumming more than merely the once thanks to his efforts.

Silence stretches between them aside for their panting breath. The two enemies, lovers, friends staring at each other. Waiting to see what the other might do.

Ibis moves first. Slipping her tail out of him and rising up with wobbly knees and shaking thighs.

Zenos watches her, eyes lit predatory blue. "What now, my beast?" He rasps expectantly, as if he expects her to tear his head off right then and there.

Ibis steps on his chest on her way to standing over his head, smiling savagely as he gives a slight wheezing gasp. She was hardly heavy compared to him, but it was satisfying to step on him. "I did not say you could finish inside me," she tells him with his cum dripping out of her and dribbling down her thighs. Some even landing on the Garlean Prince's face. "I am far from through with you, o lover of mine."

Ibis sank to her knees, her hands fisting in that golden hair as she growls, "I am going to sit on that pretty face of yours and you're going to eat me out. Lick up your own cum until I am all clean."

Zenos gives a rumbling, growling moan. His hands grasping at her thighs as she sat on his face and smothered him with her pussy.

"That's it," Ibis hisses encouragingly, pulling at his hair as he licked her with that large tongue of his. Their difference in size truly had so many benefits. "Good boy," she purrs, sighing and feeling the silky strands of his hair pulled through her fingers as Zenos lapped at her hungrily.

Hhhmmm… There were other uses for that mouth of his, after all.

Ibis bit at her lip, rocking her hips down into him, grinding her clit against his nose as the Garlean prince sucked at her folds, slurping up his own cum and swallowing it down.

Even like this, Ibis can hear him speaking into her flesh. Muffled and nonsensical as it was. Was he… monologuing to her right now? While he ate her out? He truly never shut up, did he?

"Less talking, more licking," Ibis says, and then gasps as Zenos draws a hand back and slaps her thigh.

"Fucker," she growls, but with a toothy grin. Her tail swishing with excitement as Zenos pulls her closer, devouring her hungrily. Like a starving, slavering beast desperate for a meal.

Ibis groans, grinding down on his face. Then hisses out a surprised gasp as Zenos lurches upright, grasping palmfuls of her bottom as her legs draped over his muscled shoulders. Ibis clutching at his hair as he rose to his knees. Then choking out a wheezing gasp as she is slammed down onto her back. The rumble of Zenos' laugh between her legs making her pussy tingle and throb.

"You think you're funny?" Ibis snarled, gasping for her breath and closing her legs around his head. Her thighs caging his ears as she smothered his face between them. "I could snap your neck like this," she says viciously, squeezing him so hard that a lesser man's head might split open. But Zenos only moans into her, his tongue lashing against her all the more passionately.

He really did get off on the idea of her killing him. Or perhaps just her attempting to. What was it? Battle sexual? But it was only her who could give him this. Perhaps it was a mix of the rush of battle and the tension between them. That they understood each other in a way no other did. Mirroring each other in the desire to fight against stronger and more dangerous foes. To seek out only the prey who would give them challenge. They were that to each other. Seeing themselves in the other.

Perhaps it is her thoughts, or the zeal that Zenos gave to it, but Ibis found herself pressed quickly to the edge. There was a clumsiness to his technique, no doubt, but still Zenos manages to make her cum. Ibis riding his face through another orgasm as her thighs squeezed hard around his ears.

Ibis lays back, drifting lazily in a very fucking good afterglow for a hot moment, before Zenos lifts his head from her thighs, spreads her legs open and shoves his cock back inside her.

Ibis moans out, her back arching and her breasts pressing up against his chest as Zenos lays himself between her thighs and sets a rhythm.

"I wasn't done basking, you shite," Ibis spits at him, but yanks him down into her by his golden hair that tickled at her skin. Her arms looping around his neck as she dragged him close to kiss him again. Sucking the taste of herself from his tongue and biting more at his already bruised and bitten lips. Her nails scoring over his scalp and yanking at his hair roughly as she breaks their kiss to say, "You better not cum inside me this time or I'll tear your dick off and shove it down your throat."

Zenos smiles with blood on his mouth from the bites she had given him. His hips moving much more fluidly now, the Garlean prince obviously a quick study. "Such savagery. What would you have me do then?"

Ibis hums, biting again at his throat. "Since you licked me so nicely, I'll let you cum in my mouth. Good little princeys get treats."

Zenos seems to snort at being called quite the cutesy pet name, but by the look in his eyes he is clearly intrigued at the offer of her mouth. Hah, he was still a man after all.

Ibis finds herself dragged up into his lap then and bounced on his cock for a spell, then repositioned with her back to his chest so Zenos could squeeze her chest and play with her nipples. To rub roughly at her clit until Ibis came on his cock. Again, he changes positions. Shoving at her back to send her sprawling onto her hands and knees as he fucked her from behind. His hands pawing and groping hard at her ass.

Ibis jerks as he smacks her, spreading her open and rubbing his fingers over her cunt and ass.

"I offered my mouth, not my ass," Ibis bites out, even as she shudders and trembles so close to another orgasm.

Zenos gives a, "hmph," and yanks at her tail instead as he snaps his hips against her and pounds into her hard.

Ibis is driven to her elbows with the force, her hands clawing at the rough floor as she cries out in bliss, her eyes rolling back in her head as she cums the hardest she has yet.

She must black out for a moment, waking only as Zenos slips out of her and turns her around. Rearranging her pliant body to his whims as he presses his cock to her lax lips and plunges inside without waiting for her to become more coherent.

Ibis chokes on his cock, tearing up as he forces it all down her throat in one go. She punches him in the hip, tempted to bite it off in a fit of rage, but breathes quick instead through her nose as she relaxes her throat and swallows convulsively around him.

Zenos moans out, his hands grasping her horns — the fucker — as he thrust in and out of her mouth. Ibis claws at his hips, drawing blood as she sucks him like he had never been sucked before. Literally. The prick hardly deserved such royal treatment for being such an inconsiderate shite just now, but he had been good for her. Ibis could be generous, for now. She'd be kicking his ass again when they were through, anyhow.

He doesn't last much longer, having successfully staved off his release for so long as Ibis enjoyed orgasm after orgasm herself. A few pumps of his hips with Ibis putting her all into sucking his cock and the prince of Garlemald is pouring his precious, royal seed down her gulping throat.

It is an impressive amount, Ibis will give him that. So much that she cannot swallow it all, some seeping from the corners of her mouth and dribbling over her lips.

Zenos' hands fall away from her horns, the Garlean seeming off balance and out of it as he drifts through the blissful afterglow.

Ibis eyes him, licking at her lips. "Hey," she says in a soft almost whisper, beckoning him with a crook of her finger. "Come here."

Zenos blinks down at her and kneels down for her. Ibis smiles, caressing his face, cradling his jaw as she kisses him. A little bit of his cum saved in her mouth that coats his tongue as they kiss lazily.

Ibis pulls back with a soft sigh, patting his cheek. Then she draws her fist back and socks him in the jaw.

Zenos goes sprawling, laid out flat. And then bursts into laughter as Ibis tells him, "That's what you get for shoving your cock inside however you like, and for grabbing my horns, you shitehead."

Zenos leans up onto his elbows and smiles at her with his strange, possessive adoration. "Shall we dance again, my beast?"

Ibis smirks, her red eyes glittering with the promise of more violence. "Come and get me, princey."

Zenos rose staggeringly to his feet, his scythe materializing in his hand. "Then let the hunt resume."

#ladyramora writes commissions #ladyramora writing commissions #writing commissions #zenos x wol #wol x zenos #female au ra #female wol #ffxiv endwalker spoilers #ffxiv endwalker #endwalker #ffxiv endwalker 6.0 #ffxiv ew spoilers #ffxiv ew #ew spoilers #lemon #apple #steamy #steamy spicy smut #spice #ffxiv spoilers #stormblood spoilers #stormblood #ffxiv stormblood spoilers #ffxiv stormblood #fem WoL #named WoL

[churchyardgrim]

HEART OF MIDNIGHT by J. Robert King

[intro post]

oh boy that is a cover innit. god.

Spirit Halloween wolfman in tights aside, this one gives me some mixed feelings. bit of good, bit of bad, averages out into something i enjoyed but that left a weird taste in my mouth

our tale begins in fair Kartakass. do you like wolves? is your ideal political system American Idol? do you like, really like wolves? then boy howdy have i got the dread domain for you!

yes this place appears to be 50% bards and 50% werewolves. or wolfweres. or other, wolf-shaped things, it's just all wolves all the time ok

also you become mayor by winning a singing contest. that's literally the first thing that happens, is our uhhhhhh sure let's call him a hero for now, Casimir, charisma-rolls his way into ousting the current reigning mayor, who is also his estranged dad, whomst he hates.

and who is also a werewolf! shocking, i know.

if you've got two brain cells to rub together here you can figure out the next twist; Casimir, as the child of a werewolf, is also a fuckmothering werewolf. so, naturally, he lures his ex-mayor dad out of the public eye and kills him in a nasty lil dogfight

the downside to all this, is that in order to pull it off Casimir had claimed to be the bardic protégé of Harkon Lukas, the meistersinger of the next largest city in Kartakass. Lukas tolerates this for unknown reasons, and isn't shy about using that leverage over his new pupil.

shame the kid turns out to be shit at governing! he wants to Fix Problems, which manifests in bandaid solutions that piss off the guild leaders and hereditary nobility, and also he bullies his friends :( it's very sad.

there's also a bizarre cousin romance played remarkably straight? not even a token "oh she's adopted" excuse, just full on "my estranged father's sister's grandkid is the hottest person i've ever seen actually" and it goes on for most of the book. granted, several US states have looser consanguinity laws than that, so i guess it's a matter of personal taste, but even putting that aside the romance is lackluster and typical of the genre, and also the plot physically recoils from the mere possibility that this lady might catch werwolfism from her beau, which obligates us to give it a failing grade

let women be great hairy beasts dammit! half the guys in this plot get to rampage around as furries, i think we deserve some feral wolfwomen! give us the monstrous feminine, the redditor's worst nightmare, hairy and bloodthirsty and all beast no maiden!

my consolation prize for this travesty is that the entry for Kartakass in the Doomsday Gazetteers (a campaign supplement published at around the same time, composed of in-character travelogs through each domain) delivers in full on my lady werewolf cravings with a handful of delightful npcs. the entry also references the events of the novel, through the perspective of the traveling scholar conscripted to research each domain, which is very interesting to read lemme tell u

but i digress; we have werewolf fuckery to get on with

so Lukas, to our considerable surprise, is not a werewolf! no, dear reader, he is a wolfwere. what the fuck is a wolfwere? why it's a werewolf in reverse, because of course it is. a trickster wolf that takes a human shape to fuck with ppl, untethered to moon phases and other such pedestrian things. silver does nothing to them, but they're really not fans of iron. some fae ancestry in there? maybe.

anyway Lukas says to our friend Casimir he says, "kid you're a shit politician and you're an even worse predator. maybe stop trying to be nice and start hunting your constituents for sport?"

Casimir, who is an asshole but is at least trying, says "fuck that actually" and spends a few chapters trying to be a human person while his teenage hormones lycanthropy continually throws wrenches in the works

eventually Casimir's human friends identify Lukas as a persistent saboteur, and Casimir himself as someone who is both a supernatural predator and also a selfish jerk, and there's some confused escape and/or assassination attempts, and this is where the plot goes in circles for a bit. there's betrayals, and double-crossings, and un-betrayals, and a lot of ppl acting on conflicting information, and it honestly goes on a bit long for me

the final climax is very fun though, with Casimir attempting to out Lukas as a monster without realizing that uh…. buddy his pack is everywhere. u are so outnumbered.

so it's a big fun wolfbrawl, and Casimir's clever enough not to get cornered, and also to poison Lukas so he can't actually change shape, so for a while you're not sure who's gonna come out on top here

but spoilers, it's Lukas. dude's just too wiley, and also too lucky; Casimir's the one what gets outed as a monster, and tho Lukas barely survives the mauling, he does survive while Casimir's ladyfriend tearfully puts him down

very tragic, very sad, but damn if it isn't a fun show to watch

overall i'm torn on this book. on the one hand it scratches my chronic itch for werewolves, not just Wolf Shifters; they're actual monsters here, wild animals, and the book does not shy away from the brutality of it. 

it's also something that one of my horror discussion podcasts touches on, which is that werewolves are different from possession or haunting stories, bc it's not some outside force taking control of you or invading your body; The Werewolf Is You. that's the core of the conflict here, is that as much as you are this human person with goals and family and a desire to accomplish good things in the world, you are also a base and feral animal that just wants to hunt and consume the things that attract you. and this book does that very well i think, even though i suspect it doesn't know that's what it's doing.

the downside is, well, the prose just doesn't live up to its subject matter. something's missing in a way that's hard to articulate, it comes across very bland. there's some very nice gory descriptions, and it makes a valiant effort to get the feral vibe right, but it falls short of what i really want it to be with the visceral focus and drive that i like best

the other downside is hoo boy is there a lot of suicidal ideation in this book. most of our characters die in genuinely tragic ways, it starts with a suicide and ends with a suicide, and in my opinion it crosses the line from Horror to Depressing. there's fun twisting the knife and then there's twisting the knife in a way that just leaves you unhappy about it, and this is the latter

so yeah, it's a mixed bag! worth a shot for the fun hairy bits, but be warned it doesn't pull punches in the mental health department

#church's ravenloft reviews #god this has been sitting in my drafts for two weeks hghdf i have Not been on top of the ball here #u know how it is shit gets in the way its all good

[redux-iterum]

A Kindling: Chapter Three

(AO3 counterpart here.)

“Shut up.”

“Yep.”

“Shut up.”

“Yep!”

Rusty was tickled by Smudge’s expression—mouth dropped open enough to catch a ball, eyes wide as Rusty’s paw. Smudge had listened to his story in complete disbelief, and now was visibly reeling from Rusty’s adventure.

“And they actually meant it,” Smudge said at last.

“I mean, I don’t know why they’d offer if they didn’t want me there.” Rusty’s chest was filled to bursting with excitement. He couldn’t help tip-tapping his feet to release the energy. “But Smudge, the forest—the smells, the plants—it’s amazing there! If I could—”

“Woah, woah, woah.” Smudge held up a paw and shook his head. “You can’t be taking this seriously.”

“Well, they meant it, right?” Rusty said, purring in delight. “So I am!”

“No, not just that they offered it.” Smudge leaned forward, looking alarmed. “You can’t just leave and bugger off into the woods! We have no idea what’s out there. You could get killed, you could get sick, or starve, or—”

He cut himself off, eyes searching Rusty’s face, desperate. The excitement in Rusty’s chest settled down immediately and he softened his voice.

“It’s a possibility,” he said. “I know. But… honestly, I’m willing to take those risks. It’s just…” He looked up and a little sideways, searching for the right words. “It’s not horrible here, but I’m not… I feel like I could be doing more. Seeing more. Just living in this neighborhood, it’s not…”

“Fulfilling?” Smudge offered unhappily.

Rusty nodded.

Smudge looked crestfallen; he didn’t even meet Rusty’s eyes. He drew in a big breath and let out a heavy sigh.

“If you go, we can never talk again,” he said, quiet. “Your new friends won’t let you see me. I’ll have no idea if you’re doing okay or not. Or if you’re even still alive.”

Rusty lifted a paw, halfway to reaching out to Smudge, then retracted it. “It won’t be all bad. I can at least walk by the border once in a while and wave to you.” He tried a more cheerful tone. “And I’ll know that you’re safe in your house, getting fatter and comfier by the day, right? You aren’t going anywhere.”

Smudge made a breathy noise that could have been amused, but he still didn’t look up at Rusty.

Rusty tried again. “I just don’t know if this is the life for me. When I went into the forest… it was like a part of me woke up. I started hunting without knowing what I was going after. It felt natural.” The recollection stirred excitement in his blood, and his voice took on a tone of wonder. “If the Clan cats hadn’t shown up, I-I don’t know! I might not have come back. Not for a while. There’s so much to see in the world, in that forest alone. It doesn’t scare me. Maybe it should, but it doesn’t.”

Smudge’s eyes flicked up to him. Rusty reached out again and rested a paw on Smudge’s head, trying to be comforting. Honesty came out instead.

“I don’t know what could happen to me,” he said. “Or what will happen to me. I could die, yeah, but I don’t know for sure. And I like that. It feels like being alive. Here it just feels… the opposite.” He tilted his head. “Does that make any sense?”

Smudge’s eyes drifted down again, and for a moment Rusty was afraid he’d lost him. Then, slowly, he raised his head. Rusty quickly took his paw away and waited as Smudge regarded him with a sadness he had not seen in his friend before.

“You never were content here,” Smudge finally said. “Even when I first met you. That’s why you wandered all over and pestered everyone by going into their yards. Your home wasn’t enough.”

“Right,” Rusty said softly.

Smudge briefly shut his eyes and sighed again. His sadness was now a little more affectionate.

“I guess…” he started, paused, and then, again, “I guess I’m not willing to stop you from being happy. If you want to be with those ferals… if you really want to live out there and risk your life… if that’ll make you happy, then maybe you should do it.”

Rusty purred, halfway between pleased and trying to comfort his friend. “Thank you. I’m sorry that I have to leave you behind. I really am. I wish they’d let me talk to you, at least.”

“Eh.” Smudge waved a paw with a blatantly false casualness. “I’ve got plenty of cats to talk to here. And you certainly will have company, if they’re really a group.”

An idea came to Rusty. “Maybe… maybe my human will get another cat, and they’ll be even better friends with you than I could ever be.”

“I doubt that,” Smudge said fondly. “You’re pretty awesome. Hard to top.”

Rusty’s tail curled. “Thanks!”

“And I’m pretty awesome too,” Smudge prompted, somewhat sarcastic.

“You’re very awesome.” Rusty stood up and bumped his head against Smudge’s shoulder. “Here, let’s meet at noon tomorrow. We should hang out and play as much as we can before I go.”

“That’s a good idea.” Smudge returned the gesture. “In the meantime, I’m going to sleep. So should you. It’s late and I’m tired from all this life-changing talk.”

Rusty snorted and turned, waving his tail. “I’ll see you here tomorrow.”

“Sleep well,” Smudge said, and a bit of unhappiness crept into his voice again. Before Rusty could say anything, he clumsily hopped off the fence and plopped onto the cut grass, trotting back into his house. Rusty could hear his human cooing over him and shaking a kibble bowl.

Rusty didn’t feel like going to sleep. He felt like running straight into the forest again and calling for the Clan cats to let him join them now. Some small, reasonable thing in the back of his head reminded him that he should still be thinking things over, but the greater part of him was fluffing out his fur in a pre-emptive thrill of exploring the woods. His tail wagged up and almost over his back, and his paws kneaded at the chipped paint on the fence.

His mind ran wild as he returned to his yard, scenario after scenario making him forget the irritating clipped grass beneath his feet. Those cats were giant—would they all be taller than him? Would the kittens be taller? How many members of the Clan were there? How long would it take him to see every step of the forest? What about the other Clans that were mentioned? What were they like? Would he get to meet them?

The possibilities made him shiver in delight. The bell on his collar jingled tauntingly and his delight vanished in an instant, replaced by irritation.

Right, he thought. One other thing to do before I leave.

He stepped through the door-flap, pawing at his collar every other step. It wasn’t particularly tight—his neck was too skinny for that—but it wouldn’t go over his head. A few paces into the house, he sat down and started pushing at it with his back foot, trying with all his might to squeeze his head through the gap. The metal clasp dug into his throat and it became difficult to breathe. The back of the collar pressed against his head, touching his ears. He unconsciously let out a frustrated growl (strained a little by his current situation).

At this, there was a shift of cloth. When he looked up, his owner was walking towards him from the living room and into the kitchen. They crouched down in front of him and tilted their head, making high-pitched, soothing noises.

Rusty stopped struggling and met their eyes. It occurred to him that he had never quite paid attention to them before, couldn’t remember their face—had never even studied their face, really. The moon had vanished and reappeared since he had come here, and it was only now that he realized his owner’s eyes were dark and soft.

Perhaps that was a sign that he should leave.

Rusty was jarred out of his thoughts when their hands came to circle his neck and began fiddling with his collar. He sat still, waiting politely until the collar was unbuckled and lifted away. The human spoke again, a little louder and sweeter, and gently scratched around where the collar had been. He thanked them with a purr and rubbed his cheek against their hand, though the gesture meant little to him. They stood again and walked away, setting the collar down on the counter before moving back into the living room and sitting down on their chair.

Rusty watched them distantly, the image of some animal running around on their lit box. He stood up and slowly turned his head, observing his surroundings. It was all flat and even and perfectly curved or cut with an exact line. The floor under his feet was cold and completely smooth. The air in the kitchen was stiff and a little too warm. The one or two smells he could pick up were stale (his kibble) and nastily foreign (whatever flowers were sitting at the windowsill).

It was plain, he thought. Simple. It was no wonder he had been blown away by the forest—there was so much to it. Here…

Smudge had given him the right word. It wasn’t fulfilling. It was nothing. A life of nothing, he thought, was not one he wanted to live.

  At noon, Rusty jumped onto the rail splitting his yard from Smudge’s. His faithful friend was sitting on the grass, looking morose. Rusty called his name and the look faded instantly when Smudge noticed him.

“I was worried you were going to sleep in again,” he said as Rusty jumped down into his yard. “You haven’t happened to change your mind, have you?”

“I’m afraid not.” Rusty offered an apologetic half-crouch when Smudge hung his head. “But we still have time. What do you want to do?”

“Well…” Smudge stood up. “If you’re about to go, we should go around the neighborhood and say ‘bye’ to the few cats you haven’t annoyed by intruding.”

“They’ll be thrilled that I’m gone.” Rusty puffed out a jokingly dramatic sigh. “I think you’re the only one that will miss me.”

“Then we should get one last pester in,” Smudge said. His tail, still kitten-short for his size, thwapped Rusty’s back leg. “What did the homebody call it? ‘Blaze of glory’ or something.”

“That’s for when you’re about to die.” Rusty led the way to the fence and climbed up again with ease. He turned around and waited for Smudge.

“Where you’re going, that might be appropriate,” Smudge muttered as he clambered after Rusty, making a cheerful face when Rusty gave him a pretend-irritated look.

Once Smudge was on the rail, Rusty led the way down the row of yards, his tail high. Saying farewell to everyone, he realized, was not going to be as sad as he might have thought. To him, it was just a symbol of his transition into his new life.

He just hoped that everyone in the Clan liked him more than everyone in the neighborhood did.

#warrior cats #warriors redux iterum #iterum #a kindling #book one #arc one #chapter #chapter three

[tttinytrash]

Ok fine, I caved again. Originally I said I’d at least attempt to not kidnap @shamedump‘s boys again, but their boys are so sweet (and also have to convenient distinction of not actually wanting to hurt their little reader buddy). Dumpling gave me the green light so with their blessing I’m going ahead with Shy’s final prompt for spoopy hide-and-eat with the Bad Sans Gang using Dumpling’s version of the spooky boyos. I hope I channel their personalities adequately, and I hope you guys enjoy!

Movie night with they guys was always a highlight of your week.

You all met as Archer’s castle on a regular basis to just hang out, piling into one room. Thank goodness this was a whole freaking castle, because your gang was pretty big. Despite the size of the room, the couch really wasn’t big enough for your whole group. As per usual Chain, Mage, Dusty, and Mason were crammed on the couch leaving Deca and you to nest on the floor. The plethora of cushions strewn about made that a non issue, luckily. Crash had made himself a hammock out of his own strings overhead, knitting a scarf absently as the movies served as background noise. This week, the reason the seven of you were sprawled over the couch in the first place was the horror movie marathon going on the TV across the room. 

You turned away as the blood curdling screams shrieked from the speakers, the delightful sounds of the hot blonde being torn apart by the feral werewolf on screen acting as your backing track as you cried “Oh come on! That’s just gratuitous!” You laughed, entertained by the campiness buried in the gore but still refraining from watching until the wet squelches subsided.

“you ok?” Chain asked, looking you over. (You didn’t miss Mage glancing over at you either.)

“I’m good. Having a good time, but so not looking forward to the nightmares tonight.” you respond, flapping a hand as if to waft away the concern.

“scared of horrible monsters coming to get you in the night?” Mason teased, abandoning his spot on the couch to push at your shoulder and attempt to loom.

Despite the blank sockets and black tears, the goof didn’t scare you so you laughed easily. “Not like that, and you know it. Stoppit.” You started to push him off, which made him double down on the game and try to knock you over into the pillow pile. 

Mage broke up the game before it turned into proper rough housing, wrapping one tendril around your waist and another around Mason’s ankle. He yanked you both off the floor, chiding “enough, you two.” 

Mason ended up limply hanging upside down, clearly unabashed and jokingly making grabby hands at you.

To prevent further childishness, Mage dumped you into Chain’s lap and dropped Mason into the thickest portion of the pillow pile.

You giggled when Chain wrapped himself around you, setting his chin on the crown of your head and purring about the newfound proximity.

Deca spun around to look at you, “you get nightmares after scary movies?”

“I mean yeah, but it’s a price I’m willing to pay for a good time.” You shrug, as best you can while wrapped up in Chain’s arms.

“Y-y-you know you’re just about the best guarded human-n in the multiverse, right?” Crashed asked, setting hit knitting aside.

“Yeah, I’m well aware that anyone who wanted to get me would have to go through you guys. My brain is just dumb.” You pat the skeleton wrapped around you as best you could, which in your position was patting the thick ecto on his middle since that’s all you could reach.

His belly reacted to the attention by growling, which you could feel while being pressed into it. You could practically feel the mischief coming off Chain as he said “well, i’m plenty willing to make that more literal if you want.” To emphasize, he licked your head.

You pulled away from the intruding tongue, and Chain let you tumble away from him and back onto the floor, laughing as you squealed about him being gross and trying to fix your hair from the huge cowlick Chain had gifted you.

You noticed Dusty quietly saying something to Mason, which was a pleasant surprise as Dusty usually preferred not to speak much if at all. You asked Mason what was up, curious what made the reserved skeleton speak up.

“he’s asking if i think you being taken in would help with the nightmares. so, would it?”

“Uh... dunno. Never tried it before.” You said truthfully.

“why don’t we try it out, then. but make it a game?” Mage asked, grin quirking predatorily.

“Game?” You asked, curious to see where this went.

“yes. you run, we chase. winner gets to keep you for the night.”

“Hah! Am I player or the prize?”

Mage shrugged, “both.”

You glanced around the room and saw several hopeful gazes and a few curious ones. Crash rolled his eyes and went back to his knitting, but you couldn’t deny the puppy dog eyes you were getting from some of the others.

“Alright, game on.”

-----

Crash made a seat for himself and another for Deca high up in the canopy of the woods by the castle, which would serve as your arena for the game. (Thematically appropriate, plus no one could tumble down unforgiving stone stairs.) Crash and Deca tapped out before the game began, neither of them really wanting a guest your size. The others still seemed gung ho, so they were on the forest floor with you. 

You waved your flashlight around the area, already scoping out routes, as Mage explained that a victory meant catching you, no shortcuts allowed, and stipulations about magic to keep you from getting hurt during the chase. You kinda tuned it out, instead strategizing. Not like you had to worry about limiting spells you couldn’t cast in the first place. 

You got a minute head start, and your heart was pounding as you ran. 60 seconds had gone by in your mental countdown, which meant you were officially being hunted.

You were mildly nervous, but far from afraid. You did try to tamp down on the nervous feeling and instead focus on your excitement about a new game. Hopefully a more positive feeling would be harder for Mage to track. 

You weren’t left alone too terribly long, as Dusty had a habit of popping up randomly, forcing you to run away with him snickering behind you. You quickly caught on that he was just there for jumpscares, which made you laugh. You weren’t totally positive where the others were for now, though. That made you more paranoid.

The first time you actually felt the game was afoot was when Mason suddenly appeared on your right and made a grab for you. You dodged the grab, and darted in the opposite direction. Being chased by Mason, you almost missed the dark chuckle in front of you. Luckily you didn’t, as your quick turn saved you from Mage’s tendril’s snapping out towards you. The realization that the tendrils were significantly harder to dodge than Mason had been made you realize Mason wasn’t actually trying to catch you, instead herding you towards Mage.

The realization that Mason was helping Mage rather than himself wasn’t surprising, but definitely amusing. You had to dodge plenty more of Mason’s divebombs, and Mage quickly caught on that you knew what was going on and actually had to chase after you now as well, rather than waiting for Mason to bring you close enough for a grab. You heard Deca laughing from high above when Mason lunged at you but missed, ending in a face plant. Good to know the two non participants were still entertained. Given this opening, you took off yet again only to be stopped by Dusty springing from a shrub.

It was no effort to get away from him, as per usual. But how did he keep finding you so easily?!

Oh, Delta. It was the freaking flashlight! You realized the bright light was all but a beacon in the dark woods. Mason had given it to you, hadn’t he? Ooh, that cheeky little-!

Fine, you could use their trick against them. You jammed the light in the crook of a tree and took of running, leaving the bulb alight. The laughter from both Mason and Mage meant they’d found your trick, but you were far from your boobytrap and felt a sense of victory.

Your skeleton sightings became fewer now, and your night vision had finally adjusted to the dim light of the moon. But it also heightened the nerves instinctual for humans in the dark. You actually screamed the next time Dusty caught you by surprise, and while you backpedalled you didn’t miss the surprised look on Dusty’s face before you felt two solid somethings wrap around from behind you and lock you in place.

You wriggled with all your might out of a pure fear reaction but stilled when you realized two things. 1) The things holding you were big, thick arms. 2) The plushness of the body you were being held to meant it was Chain.

You looked up, breathy laughter tinging your words as you said “I only saw you once this whole game, but wow did you make it count!”

Deca shortcutted to the ground beside you, while Dusty and Chain chuckled at your outburst.

“figured ambush was the way to go. picked a spot and waited for the right moment, and dusty gave me the perfect window.” Chain explained.

“did you even know he was there, dusty?” Deca asked. 

He shook his head, smiling wide.

Crash seems to have been the one who called Mason and Mage that the game was over, as all three approached in a group.

“well played, chain. and you did pretty well too, human.” Mage said as he approached. 

Once the trio joined, the group was left in a loose ring and you still being held by the large skeleton who’d caught you. Conversation was immediate and comfortable, reliving some of the more lively moments and near misses with glee and laughing over mistakes made. After a bit, the chatter was cut by a rolling growl from Chain’s stomach which served as a reminder as to what victory entailed.

“well, the wager was already set. we’ll go set up the sleeping arrangements and meet you back at the castle. see you later, human.” Mage said, leading the others away and leaving just you and Chain out in the cool night air.

“you ready to get in your sleeping bag?” Chain asked, adjusting his grip on you at last to a more bridal style.

“Hah, yeah. Sounds pretty comfy to me.”

Chain smiled before gently fitting your head into his mouth while you went limp to make the next few moments easier on your host. Chain started swallowing with an easy, steady rhythm and you felt yourself relax in response. This was far from your first time being taken in by one of your skeletal companions so you knew the drill. It was with a happy sigh from Chain that you finished your downward journey and slid into the more open space of his stomach. The magic around you was mildly cool but comfortable, and the softness let you sink in a bit and feel cradled and safe.

Chain’s hand pressed in from outside to steady his newly added weight and you felt the light sway as he began to walk back into the castle. You began to rub at the surrounding walls in a successful attempt to get the monster to purr, and he even started rubbing back at you with your free hand.

He did you the favor of turning his magic transparent for you once you were back in the castle. He knew you preferred being able to see people if conversations were happening, and knowing how these nights went sleep wasn’t on the itinerary just yet despite the bedding being set up and pajamas being on.

Once you host had settled where he’d be sleeping, conversations flowed and jokes were made amongst the group with little difference from before despite your seating arrangements. Eventually, Mason approached and started to lightly pester you through the barrier of magic between you two. Chain seemed more entertained by the banter than bothered, but you hadn’t missed the black puddle that formed on the floor behind Mason.

A tendril emerged, wrapped around Mason’s ribs, and dragged him in. The satisfied look on Mage’s face would have clued anyone in the group in to where the troublemaker had ended up even without seeing him be puddled. Any nonexistent doubts also would have been dashed by Mage’s hand remaining on his belly the rest of the evening.

After a while, sleep was imminent and everyone settled comfortably strewn about Mage’s room. Mage and his internal guest were of course veiled on Mage’s four poster bed while everyone else was on various cots and cushions. Even without the luxury of a king sized mattress you felt exceedingly comfortable.

“doin ok in there?” Chain asked quietly.

“Oh, peachy on my end. How ‘bout you?” You kneaded at the wall the way you knew he liked.

He purred at your attentions, rubbing back as best he could from outside. “just wondering if this nightmare cure will do you any good, but i’m feeling pretty peachy too.”

“I will say, pretty hard to feel vulnerable in here. I’ll let you know come morning.”

“good. night, y/n.”

“Goodnight, big guy.”

You both settled in, and it felt like Chain falling asleep took mere seconds. You smiled fondly at the soft sounds of his slowed breathing and his body working around you.

As you drifted off, you couldn’t help but wonder if the chasing game would be played again at some point. 

...

Maybe next week you could watch the sequel to tonight’s movie.

#extreme cuddling #safe vore #soft vore #undertail vore

[willownoir1112]

Hello beautiful people of Tumblr! Wyn here with day one of White Rose Week 2021 to break my silence! I hope everyone enjoys, and I'll see you tomorrow with day 2!

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Love Bites

Summer Rose vanished, and Ruby suffered.

All her life, all Ruby has ever wanted was to belong. She tries so hard to fit in, first with her older sister's friends. But, they all told her to go away. That she's a baby compared to them. "Why would I want to bring you too?" Yang would always declare. "You're still just a baby!" Her friends would laugh with her, call her names as well, and leave her behind just like Yang did.

Her sister's words hurt her, and destroyed any chance of them having a sisterly relationship.

She tried so hard to be a good daughter. But, her father spent more of his time worrying about his troops, his responsibilities, his duties to Goddess and Country. "One day you will understand, Ruby." He would always tell her. "One day, you'll have to make the same sacrifices for a family of your own." His words never changed, nor his actions. He would be gone constantly, leaving her and Yang alone for weeks or even months at a time, meaning she had to grow up far too quickly.

Her father's priorities hurt her and robbed her of her childhood.

She tried so hard to be a good student. But, subjects like english, history, anything really to do with reading simply didn't make sense to her. She could stare at the page of a book for hours and all she could see is a jumble of letters. Everyone called her simple, stupid, a waste of time. "Oh look, it's little Stupid Ruby!" Cardin Winchester would declare every day at school. He and his cronies would torment and belittle her, and once even cut her long hair off. She suffered in silence, her arms the only evidence of her inner pain. Arms she always kept covered even in the worst heat of summer.

Her peers hurt her with their words, with their actions, and made her withdraw further into herself.

She finally stopped being a good sibling. She shut her sister out of her life first, Yang never noticing that Ruby stayed closeted in her room constantly. She was the bright shiny sun of everyone else's lives, with her outgoing and boisterous personality. Everyone's but Ruby's. If Yang is the bright sun, then Ruby has become the darkest moon of the family, and she likes it that way now.

She finally stopped being a good daughter. She did her chores without complaint and without needing to be told, save late at night when her father would already be in bed or Yang too preoccupied with her latest significant other. He never noticed that his younger daughter dresses in nothing but blacks and reds, or that she never let her hair grow back longer than above her shoulders. The career he chose to continue to support his family had a long ago casualty, and Ruby keeps it that way.

She finally stopped being a good student. She kept going to school, despite all but failing in everything. She went through the motions, ignored everyone when they called her things like Queen of Darkness or Salem's heir, or even worse. She ignored the shoves, the bullying, everything done to her until they all finally grew bored of it and her. She was finally left alone to sit in the deepest corner of all her classes, doodling to pass the time until she could return to her room and her solitude.

But then Ms. Peach, the choir director, invited the secretly shy and lonely girl to her class one day and encouraged her to sing. From the moment she heard the piano play, her soul became exultant, and her voice rose in response. Even Principle Ozpin, who was walking by at that moment stopped and listened as the shy, moody, rather dark girl who kept to herself was in possession of a voice that could bring even him to tears. Peach was enthusiastic in teaching her how to read music, how to project her voice, how to truly appreciate her hidden talent for music.

But, Taiyang finally noticed when he was forced to retire. He noticed the true state of his family, and decided to take firm control. He destroyed her growing dreams when he declared she and Yang both were to join Beacon Military Academy to finish school. That they needed discipline and not freedom to thrive like he once did. That neither of his children will follow in his long disappeared wife's footsteps, and lack the discipline needed to succeed where she obviously failed.

He was furious when Glynda Goodwitch admitted her as Ruby, allowing her to keep that one small bit of freedom.

She suffered like never before at Beacon. She was admitted two years early as a favor to her father, and she hated it. Her hate translated itself into her becoming a powerful fighter with her chosen weapon, a red and black fifty caliber sniper scythe she named Crescent Rose, and soon where she was once either dereided or ignored, she was now feared. Even her own sister fears her now, and that makes her happy.

She is the Darkest Reaper of Vale, and she hates them all.

But one person did not fear her. One person saw past her pain, her grief for her denied life. Weiss was from Atlas, a mysterious, inclusive land far to the north, where they say even the Grimm do not tread. A land of dark magic, of creatures even fouler than the enemy of the world. A land even the demiurge Salem has forsaken. Weiss did not fear the Darkest Reaper, and took an odd delight in hearing the whispers about her, about them both.

She has her own secrets, secrets Ruby will know all too soon.

She cannot help but to feel an attraction to the white haired girl from the north. Her porcelain skin is always smooth and cool to the touch. Her brilliant blue eyes are like the clear blue skies she would once sit under with her long departed mother while they laugh and imagine whimsical beasts and imaginary places. Her long white hair moves like the finest of silk curtains as she walks from class to class, her nose turned up to their peers as if they are all beneath her. All except for her. She treats the Reaper with respect, with courtesy, and after a time, holds out a hand of friendship to her, one she takes willingly.

She finally has a friend, a real friend. Someone who cares for her, Ruby Rose.

But certain things stand out to her as well. The way she barely eats anything but meat, and even then almost bloody and nearly raw. The way she approaches every mock battle with the cunning of a predator on the hunt. The skill with which she wields her rapier, a dust revolver styled weapon she has named Myrtenaster, with near lethal intent even during the simplest of spars against anyone willing to challenge her. She is the only one who can stand against her, her own formidable rage and loathing a match for the heiress's feral cunning and ferocity.

But one late night, during a restless night they both secretly shared, a truth is told, and their lives are changed forever.

She herself couldn't sleep. It was the one thing she could always count on being able to do. It was her refuge from the reality of her world, and she retreated to it every chance she could. But tonight, she tosses and turns, she begs and pleads with the treacherous brain that won't stop thinking, and finally surrenders and gets dressed. Taking up her scythe, she easily steals away into the Emerald Forest, the guards ignoring her out of fear. She runs deeply into the darkened woods, no fear for the Grimm that hide in the shadows as well as whatever other creatures may dwell within.

She never realizes that a pair of blue eyes follow her, belonging to the single person who doesn't fear her. The only person who is beginning to secretly adore her.

She finally stops near the old temple to the Brother of Light, which has been long abandoned when he left Remnant to it's fate. Sitting down, she begins to cry deep tears of pain and sorrow. She hates her life now, she hates being taught to kill, to end the lives of others. She despises the fact that she is good at it. She never wanted this. All she ever wanted was to be a good sibling, a good daughter, a good student. All she ever wanted was to belong, to love a certain white haired girl and be loved in return.

She almost screams in terror when the great white furred head lays in her lap, with sad blue eyes that reflect her pain.

She stares at the great beast, marveling at the fact that a wolf has appeared here. One of the few things she has managed to remember from her poor studies is that the Grimm killed all the wolves when they first came to Vale. None were spared, and somehow she knows this one knows that. To her surprise, she begins to pet the wild creature, smiling softly at the way it's tail begins to wag as it whines. And then she begins to talk to it. She talks about her mother, her father, her sister, her life. She is soon sobbing in grief at the sadness of her life thus far, and is surprised to see tears in the white wolf's eyes as well.

But she forgot that sorrow is a feast for the Grimm, and they soon gather around her and the white wolf both.

She makes her decision. She throws her scythe to the ground and gives in completely to her sorrow. She is so tired. She is so tired of being turned into someone she wants nothing to do with. She's so tired of hoping people will finally love her instead of hate her or fear her. She is so tired of dreaming of a pair of blue eyes that will never look lovingly at her. She is ready, and the Grimm will feed well on her. But she doesn't expect the snarling, the sudden sounds of battle. Opening her silver eyes, they widen as she sees the once four legged wolf has vanished, a naked Weiss snarling in her rage as she wields Myrtenaster against the foul creatures.

"YOU KILLED THEM ALL!"

She stares at the rage filled young woman. She's never seen her fight with this much savagery, this much hate. Even in battles in which she is outclassed or outnumbered, she is still controlled. She uses superior tactics, the icy calm she is infamous for, and her obviously hidden rage to still rip victory from the jaws of defeat.

"ALL THE PACKS OF VALE ARE DEAD!"

She picks Crescent Rose back up. The white haired girl is beginning to frighten her, and she does not frighten easily. She watches in growing terror as an Alpha Beowolf appears, howling in challenge, Weiss's answering howl frightening her to her very soul. She watches as the white haired woman tosses her sword to the side and begins to growl as she grows. She listens to the popping of bone and sinew as fur begins to spring from her bare skin. She stares on in horror as the one friend she has ever made turns into…

A werewolf. A creature from Remnant's darkest stories has come to life before her, and is defending her while taking vengeance for the long dead wolves of Vale.

"You will not hurt my Ruby…"

She screams as Weiss leaps towards the Alpha, her fangs bared and her still hand shaped front paws slashing at the creature of darkness. The Alpha charges her as well, it's own jaws wide open to bite and tear at the white werewolf, it's own claws slashing at her unarmored and exposed flanks. She hears her friend's scream of pain as the Alpha strikes harder than she can, and causes more damage than she can possibly manage in return, and she finally leaps into action. Weiss is the first person to be her friend. She is the first person to treat her like a person. She is the first person she's allowed herself to start having feelings for in her short life.

She may be ready to die, but she will not let Weiss die for her own selfish desires.

Crescent Rose strikes the Beowolf quickly, breaking the Alpha and the werewolf apart as the Grimm leaps back to avoid the deathblow Ruby aims at it. But Ruby is enraged now. She sees the bright red blood upon the moonlit ground, and it adds to her fury. She hears the whimpers of the injured wolf, and it increases her rage. She roars in her righteous anger as her scythe becomes a blur, the Alpha soon howling in pain before Ruby's final blow comes in her scythe hooking around its neck before she pulls the trigger, decapitating the beast with one final roar of triumph. It takes her a moment to calm herself, a long moment in which she has forgotten her anger, her sorrow, her self loathing. And then she finally remembers Weiss. In a panic, she begins to look for her friend, desperate to ensure that she is safe.

It doesn't take her long to find her, and her scream of anguish can be heard back at Beacon.

Weiss has managed to get back to a small cave, her clothes as well as some supplies stacked neatly in the back. She herself is panting heavily as blood flows steadily from her injuries. But her tail thumps on the ground weakly as Ruby slides to the ground in front of her. She doesn't hesitate, but begins to treat the slashing wounds, bandaging them carefully while doing her best to ignore the pain filled shrieks from the badly injured werewolf.

"Oh Goddesses, I'm so sorry, Weiss. I'm so so sorry!" Is her litany as she keeps at her work, until the blood finally stops. Until the white wolf goes silent save for her panting.

The sun rises, then sets once more, but Ruby has yet to leave the white werewolf's side. Weiss has slept the entire time, but she has stayed awake. She is too scared to close her eyes, terrified that if she relaxes her vigil for even a moment, she will lose the most important person in her life. But her body's needs will not be denied, and she finally falls asleep, the large canine head still in her lap and her grip firm on Crescent Rose's handle.

She dreams of white fur and sky blue eyes. Of days spent watching the skies and laughing. Of feeling loved once more, and being confident in being able to return that love.

She moans as she feels the urgency of the lips on her own. Of the feeling of cold skin upon her own now bare skin. Of cold hands exploring her body and her own hands wandering across smooth, uninjured skin in return. She moans in longing as lips caress her skin with feather light kisses. As her own fingers discover places on the other willing body that bring moans of pleasure from a voice she has come to adore since beginning at Beacon.

But she moans loudly as teeth sink into her collarbone, a tender, almost loving bite from the woman she knows she loves deeply.

"Ruby…" Her voice is husky as she releases the love bite, full of longing and need. She can feel a certain heat against her leg that is foreign to the cold that the rest of her skin belies. She herself feels so hot, so needed. She has never felt like this before, and she wants more. She needs more. But her eyes widen as she catches her lover's hands as they grab at the hem of her panties, her face full of fear once more.

"Weiss… I…"

"I know, Ruby." Weiss smiles softly at the Reaper. "I know what you are. But I have wanted you for months now. Since I saw your strength for myself. Since I got to know the real you, and not your mask of anger and self loathing that you hide behind."

"Weiss…"

"Ruby, I am the last of my pack." The werewolf informs her sadly. "I came to Vale seeking the packs that once roamed here, hoping to join them and be safe." She sighs sadly, her blue eyes dimming. "I am beginning to fear I am the last of my kind."

She sits up and pulls the werewolf into her arms. She knows all the signs of sorrow, being well acquainted with them herself. "I… Weiss I'm damaged. Why would you want someone like me?"

Their eyes meet, quicksilver staring into sky blue. "Because I have been alone since I was a child. But you make me feel like I am home now." She cuddles deeper into the Reaper's arms. "I feel safe with you, and I know I can trust you with my secret."

Ruby takes a moment to think, to gather her thoughts while considering everything she has been told. But her thoughts always return to a pair of sky blue eyes she loves to look into. Coming to a decision, she lifts the werewolf's face by her chin with a single finger and kisses her deeply, while her free hand pulls her even closer.

This may be a mistake, but it is going to be the best one she ever makes.

The cavern is soon filled with their moans, their cries of pleasure, their whispered words of love, their need for one another. Their lovemaking is tender at times, frenzied at others, and intense throughout. Morning found them once again asleep, this time in each other's arms and in a tangle of limbs, a part of Ruby still inside the white werewolf, who smiles as she sleeps deeply. They wake upon that glorious morning and decide that Beacon has nothing left for them, and decide to seek their fortunes elsewhere. Someplace where no one knows either of them.

Someplace where their future children can grow up safely…

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Weiss declares her love for her, and for the werewolf, she will throw everything away for a future with her...

Ruby opens one silver eye, smiling at the blue eyed pup staring back at her eagerly as she whines. Sitting up, she yawns as she stretches, her mouth opening wide as her fangs gleam in the light of the morning sunlight. Bowing her head down low, she nuzzles the white haired silver eyed pup tenderly before the two of them leave the comforts of the small, modest home she and Weiss have built together. It has been a decade since she and the white werewolf left Vale far behind and traveled to Mistral. To their surprise, as they explored the deepest parts of the wilds of Anima, they encountered a village full of others like Weiss, led by a lioness named Pyrrha Nikos and her own mate, a human woman named Nora.

She had heard of Pyrrha, who had been reported killed in a massive battle at Haven Academy. A report fabricated by the woman herself so she too could escape with her own mate and their hard won freedom...

They had met so many others, who had fled the destruction of their own packs and prides, their own groups and hutches. They met Velvet, who was a kind and gentle soul of a wererabbit and her mate Coco, who was the heiress of Mistral's largest corporation and their secret benefactor. They met Blake, a panther who loves to read, and her chameleon mate Ilia. There had even been a tearful reunion between Weiss and her older sister Winter, who had also barely survived the destruction of their pack and had also fled. They even met a pair of birds who squabbled constantly, an overly violent Raven and her dusty, drunken Qrow of a brother.

But the biggest shock comes when they reach one small cabin in particular, where a lonely woman lives. A lonely woman long thought vanished by the young woman, but who in truth had been forced to leave by the man she thought loved her.

Ruby sobs as she rushes into her mother's arms, Summer Rose holding her tightly as she too weeps in joy. A mother and her daughter are reunited to their eternal joy, and Weiss cheers in her happiness for them both.

They talked late into the night, the white werewolf asleep in her mate's lap as mother and daughter catch themselves up on years of their lives. Summer is livid at how Ruby has been treated, how she has suffered for so long because of her absence. Ruby had been furious to discover that her mother had been driven off due to a twist of fate, as she had been bitten by another werewolf during a mission. She had been bitten to save her life, and had been punished for it.

Ruby made her own decision that same night, and smiled as her beloved sank her fangs into her skin in a love bite that would change her forever. She turned willingly, determined that Weiss, her sister, and her own mother will not be the last of their kind.

She quietly cheered her mother onward as she found the courage to move on with Raven, who adored her and treated her with kindness, respect, and love. She had happily held her baby sister when she was born two years later, Weiss still at her side and a smile on her own face to match the look of peace in her eyes. She and Weiss had themselves celebrated the birth of their twin pups a year later, naming them after both their mothers.

But the biggest surprise is still to come.

She still checks her scroll from time to time, she and Pyrrha both agreeing that they cannot remain ignorant of the outside world. There is still danger out there, both from the humans and faunus as well as the Grimm, and all while quietly offering safe haven to others like them, as well as their families. They as well as Raven and Nora are the defenders and leaders of their small community, and they take their responsibilities seriously. But Ruby had been surprised to find an email waiting for her one day, when she had travelled far to the south before turning it on, a feat she can accomplish with ease thanks to her semblance and now enhanced senses and superior stamina.

She never expected to hear from her sister ever again.

Downloading it, she returns to the village and her mate, asking her to read it for her. Weiss of course does so, having been the one who finally helped the Reaper figure out that she was not stupid like everyone in her life claimed, but struggled with severe dyslexia. She and Summer have been helping her learn to finally read and write, but it is a slow process, one she still finds herself getting frustrated with as well as embarrassed. Opening it, she soon stops to summon Summer, the two of them sobbing at the state of the brawler's life since they fled. Tai has placed his blame on his eldest for her disappearance, and she has suffered greatly for it. Her life is a disaster now, and she has already been in a failed marriage. She begs Ruby to at least reassure her that she is alive, that she is at least doing well, that her suffering is worth it if it means that the sister she long ignored is finally happy.

That they have traded places, and that her sister is finally whole in spirit and at peace.

Pyrrha does not hesitate to give her permission to bring Yang back. To allow them to reunite, so that she can see for herself that her wishes are indeed true, and that Ruby is happy and thriving. She goes and meets Yang at Mistral's airship port, where the two of them meet in a long overdue hug between sisters, and not the strangers they have been all their lives. They return together, where Yang is also overjoyed to be reunited with her own mother, Raven. Ruby herself nods in satisfaction that her sister is on her way to a peace of mind she now enjoys, and is grateful that she too settles into life in their village, calling it home as well.

Only she and Weiss bear witness to Winter sinking her fangs into Yang's flesh, the two of them falling in love in this place they too call home.

Summer and Luna play happily with the other children, who include their cousins and their aunt. They are gentle with their younger brother, and fiercely protective of their newborn sister. Ruby and Weiss have slowly become the leaders of their still growing safe haven, and lead both by excellent example as well as with hard learned wisdom and knowledge. They share a deep, beautiful commitment to one another that many envy, one forged in mutual understanding and undying love.

Weiss Schnee came into Ruby's life, and she has prospered...

#White Rose Week 2021 #white rose #ruby rose #weiss schnee #Day One #werewolf Weiss #Trans Ruby #here we go!

[touyasthembo]

Hide, go and seek.

Keigo Takami/Fem!Reader

Rating: M

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: Oral (reader receiving), some slight dubcon(?), branding, knifeplay (technically?), creampie, breeding kink, degradation, praise, kind of mean!keigo, keigo fucks himself stupid, overstimulation, lil bit of predator/prey, one (1) spank, fearplay, slight dumbification, slight possessiveness, lil bit of bloodplay, some sweetness mixed in.

Notes: My first ever piece of smut that I’ve posted! Hope you guys enjoy, lots more on the way.

🌒🌒🌒

Keigo’s week has been nothing but work on top of work on top of work, hellacious and taxing, he’s rapidly coming towards his wit’s end, feeling like he’s about to snap at any given moment. You are his only reprieve, the only good in his life. He loves you so very much. Which is why he feels guilty for wanting to take it all out on you.

You, his sweet little girlfriend. You guys had been experimental in the bedroom, plenty times, certainly. He’d often made use of his unholy amounts of stamina and railed you well into the morning until you were crying, shaking, on the verge of passing out, he’d marked you up, spanked you, done all sorts of things.

Lately, his mind has been going to, well, darker places, admittedly. Some little feral avian part in his brain delights in the idea of “hunting” you down and claiming you, biting you and bruising you up in colors of his name, sinking his claws that itch to grab you into your flesh until you’re lined with the pretty little crescent shaped markings that are his everywhere. 

Maybe digging the tip of a sharpened feather into your skin, watching the blood ooze out so he can lap it up, taste the coppery flavor of you on his tongue.

The strangest thing is, he isn’t even remotely close to a rut. He chalks it off to being overworked and stressed out, wanting a physical way to get rid of all of the negative emotions brewing inside of him.

His patrol is almost over, moon looming over the dark city, bright and beautiful as he pulls out his phone, hands shaking a bit with the motion, opening up the messages and immediately tapping on your name.

keigo baby💘 : turn off all of the lights in the apartment and hide.

Little dove🕊: what? why? is something going on I should know about?

keigo baby💘 : i’m not asking.

When your eyes rove over the texts, you feel your heart pound in your chest, thunderously loud in your ears as you immediately do as you’re told, almost tripping over your own feet every couple of seconds as you do, until your entire apartment is drenched in darkness and you’re standing in the middle of the living room, mind desperately trying to figure out where to hide.

One of the curses of having such an open and modern apartment is that there aren’t many places you can think of. You realize your only safe bet is in your closet, under the pile of clothes. You run inside, trying to close the door behind you as silently as possible, before burrowing under the pile of clean yet-to-be folded clothes, holding your breath when you hear the sliding door that goes out to the balcony slowly open, followed by the sound of slow methodical bootsteps. 

Surely, you reason, that’s Keigo? Then why had he…?

You hear doors in the apartment open, shut, then more bootsteps going further away, then coming closer, you realize he’s systematically going through every single possible hiding space. You’re going to be found in no time. The question is, what happens next?

You hear your shared room’s door slowly creak open, followed by heavy footfalls, the sounds of him rustling through things, opening the other smaller closet, looking under the bed, under the covers, until the footsteps come right up outside your door. You feel your heart leap into your chest, trying to breathe as lightly as you can without passing out.

He yanks the door open without much grace, the sound it makes causing you to yelp, muffled under the clothes pile. You feel his hands reach in and pull you out, and when you look up at him you’re left slightly mortified, just the slightest bit of fear coursing through you.

The only thing illuminated in the dark is his eyes, yellow sharp and piercing, pupils fat as he looks down at you, his prey, his prize. They look wild, bordering on unhinged as he grins widely at you in satisfaction, pearly white teeth with sharp canines glinting in the low light the moon offers, slightly obscured through the window.

“Got you,” He rasps, voice impossibly deep as you look up at him in fear, wonderment, a strange sort of dark aura surrounding him and encapsulating you as well as you sit on your knees in front of him.

“K-Keigo, what’s going on?” You squeak, swallowing nervously as he continues to stare you down with his intense, intimidating yellow glare, looking so very pleased with himself at his catch.

“That’s not important right now, sweetheart, just let me do what I need to do, okay?” He murmurs, voice deceptively saccharine sweet, dripping with malice as he manhandles you up, then tosses you on the softness of your bed, illuminating you in the whitish blue of the moonlight pouring through your uncovered window.

He coos at your terrified expression, gloved hand reaching up and petting your cheek sweetly, other unoccupied hand reaching up to your little nightshirt, fingers curling around the bottom of it as he tugs, until you’re left in just your bra. 

You’d be lying if you said whatever’s gotten into him isn’t making you incredibly aroused, feeling yourself start to get wet under his predatory gaze, which roves over your nearly uncovered chest.

“Keigo! Slow down, and tell me what’s- f-fuck,” You moan, as he abruptly pulls down the cup of your pretty little baby blue bra, immediately latching onto one of your newly exposed nipples and sucking harshly, tongue lapping at the sensitive bud as his other hand pinches the other one, appreciatively squeezing the fat of your tit as he does, enjoying the give it has in his palms. 

You’re whimpering now, squeezing your legs together in search of friction while he hums softly, in between ravenous sucks and licks, alternating between both tits until they’re both wet and sticky with his saliva, his eyes never leaving yours, still with that same unhinged, borderline eerie gaze.

“Sensitive,” You mewl when he pinches a little too hard. He laughs in response to your pathetic little plea, pinching even harder and biting down on the one that he’s currently sucking on. You yelp, hips bucking into his. 

His other hand shoots down, pinning your hips to the bed as his gaze turns dark, toeing the line of furious.

“You’ll take what I give you and nothing more, am I fucking clear?” He hisses, baring his teeth at you, fingers digging in harshly when you don’t answer quickly enough, yelping out a “yes, I’m sorry!” in response that he seems to approve of, returning back to his previous task of torturing your poor chest.

When he gets bored of doing that, he shoves your flimsy little blue shorts down, tossing them somewhere away as he harshly pries your legs apart, gazing openly down at your wet, panty clad cunt lecherously. 

“You got your poor dumb little pussy so fucking wet over me playing with your tits, huh, little slut?” He hisses appreciatively as he thumbs your clit, making you jerk with the suddenness of it, feeling so sensitive from the slight contact, he takes the hand he’d just been teasing you with, pulling his leather glove off with his teeth and bringing it back, bare, against your twitching pussy.

His thumb rubs in teasing little circles through your pale blue panties, not going nearly fast enough to get you to the edge, but it still makes you ache, still makes goosebumps rise all over your sensitive body, nipples hard and neglected in the cool night air as he laughs derisively at your little needy display.

“‘M not a slut, Keigo,” You whine, fighting the urge to grind back into his touch, lest he reprimand you again. Your actions say otherwise, you know, your face heats at how you’re acting, embarrassed with how desperate you are for him to touch you. You’d be lying if you said his words weren’t turning you on even more, even if they do sting a little.

“Oh, but you are, my pretty little slut,” He purrs, using the usually degrading name as a sort of backhanded praise, it leaves you reeling every time he says it, in conjunction with his thumb swirling around your little throbbing clit. 

You’re soaking through the soft cotton of your panties, he eyes the wet spot with a rapt sort of hunger, as he licks his lips, roughly yanking the fabric down your legs, until it’s hanging off your foot, which is dangling off the bed. 

“Oh, fuck,” He says airily, sounding a bit wrecked himself as he sees firsthand how drenched you’ve gotten just from him just barely touching you, his words. You squirm, embarrassed by his entranced gaze on your dripping pussy, how he’s just staring at you without touching you.

He lunges forward, immediately targeting your poor, oversensitive clit, sucking and licking, lapping you up like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever had the honor of tasting, the noises of him feasting on you nothing short of obscene, wet, slick sounding, you let out a high keen.

The broad of his tongue laps through your wet puffy folds, the taste of your slick on his tongue only making him feel more aroused, head getting even hazier with every little whimper and mewl he makes you let out, how messy you are, all for him.

“Fucking messy, god, you’re so wet,” He moans into you, the vibrations of his voice against you making you buck into his face, the feeling of his stubble on your inner thighs ticklish, only adding to the overstimulation he’s rapidly hurtling you towards. 

You’re dripping down his fucking chin, he realizes with a snarl, amplifying his efforts to make you cum, wanting nothing more than to hear you cry out his name repeatedly from the intensity alone, to announce to the world that he’s the only one that can make you feel this good, make you cum this hard. Nobody else would ever, could never compare.

Your eyes are tearing up as you hiccup, hands fisting in his unruly golden hair as you beg for him to slow down, speed up, babbling nonsense at this point as he devours you.

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me? Gonna cream on my tongue, little dove?” He goads, parting from you with a wet translucent string of both your arousal and his saliva, licking it up without so much as a second thought as he admires how wrecked you are, unshed tears glittering in your eyes.

“Yes, please, please, let me cum, let me- ghkk,” You garble as he shoves his long thick fingers in your mouth, telling you firmly to suck, which you immediately obey. 

Hollowing out your cheeks as your eyes flutter shut, the combination of his fingers fucking into your mouth as you lick and suck around his invading digits, his tongue fucking into your pussy, flitting up to pulse around your clit, sends you hurtling over the edge as you cum, hard, with a muffled wail.

He parts from your still clenching cunt, panting heavily as the bottom half of his face drips with your release, his tongue lapping up as much as it can, before he crawls up the length of your body to slam his lips against yours, tongue immediately invading your mouth and twining with yours, sharing the taste of your arousal with you.

You moan weakly into his mouth, the force of your orgasm making you see little stars behind your closed eyelids, he responds with soft little noises, grumbling in the back of his throat. In hindsight, you’re incredibly foolish for thinking that was the end of it, that he’d gotten what he wanted and was completely satisfied.

When he parts from you with a little wet smooch, far too sweet considering how aggressive he’d been, your heavy lidded eyes open to the sight of his amber eyes, narrowed now into little slits as he stares you down once more, you realize you’re not entirely out of the woods yet.

He summons a long crimson feather to his left hand, twirling it between his fingers as he watches your face for every little microexpression. His cock twitches in his pants when he sees the slightest hint of fear enter your pupils.

“You always told me my feathers are so pretty, wanna put that to the test, little love? Want me to mark you up nice and good, gorgeous, all for me?” He hums, tickling under your chin with the soft plumed crimson end of it, tilting his head at you. He already knows what you’re thinking, truly he doesn’t even need to ask.

You gulp, he grins, one large strong hand flipping you over onto your tummy, gripping your wrists together as he hums a little song in his throat, practically purring at the sight of your ass, bare in the moonlight in front of him. 

He winds a long arm back, smacking it harshly just to see it jiggle, releasing a low groan of approval when it does, the sting of it making you grind back against his leg that’s snuck its way in between your slicked thighs. 

He lets you, but moves it back just the slightest bit so that the pressure wouldn’t be enough for you to cum again.

When you feel the sharp poke of his feather against the tender skin of your ass, you whimper, muffled by the bedsheets underneath you, stiffening in anticipation. He puts more pressure, you feel your skin start to give, toes curling as you realize he truly does intend to cut you with the sharp end of his feather.

The pain is low, throbbing, when he finishes each little section of whatever it is he’s cutting into your skin, you feel blood bead at the surface of your skin, dripping down the side of your throbbing cheek, to your mortification he leans down and laps it up before it can stain your sheets, humming at the taste in his mouth.

It’s another couple of seconds until he’s done, admiring his handiwork as you shake and writhe underneath him, your ass throbbing with a dull sort of ache as he finally relinquishes your wrists, letting you stand back up. He drags you over to the mirror, then turns you around.

Across your left ass cheek, is his name, written in his handwriting, branded into your skin. Loftily, you wonder if it’ll scar, wobbling a little, still a bit dizzy from your previous orgasm.

“So pretty,” He praises, admiring the raised lines that spell out ‘K E I G O’ across the globe of your ass. He’d made it very compact, neat, thankfully, something that could be hidden, but he’d always know it was there, that he’d been the one to mark you. 

He comes in closer behind you, until you feel the hard still clothed bulge of his cock grinding against your freshly branded ass, murmuring appreciative little sweet nothings in your ear, followed by sweet little kisses, nibbles and licks to any exposed skin he can find, targeting your neck and ear specifically.

“Now that I’m finished with that, it would be a shame to leave my cock this hard and unattended to, don’t you think?” He cooes, voice like liquid velvet to your foggy brain, sucking little marks into the tender skin of your neck as he slowly walks the two of you back to your bed, arm wrapped protectively around your waist.

He coaxes you onto the bed with sweet lilting words, promising he’s gonna make the pain all worth it, all better as soon as you take care of him, your brain greedily lapping up his words, which are interspersed with praise.

“You’re so good for me, my little dove, so obedient,” He purrs, once again maneuvering you with rough hands until you’re once again on your stomach on your shared bed. You can hear the metal clinks of him undoing his belt, fabric shifting followed by a low groan as you hear the unmistakable sounds of him working his cock, feeling his eyes burn into the brand he’d made on you.

You feel his thick tip press against your soaked little hole, his hands on your hips, squeezing at your flesh appreciatively, as he nudges your entrance, not thrusting in yet. You attempt to grind back, but the strength of his grip on your hips immediately halts the action before it can even start.

You’re sweating, your thighs are quivering in anticipation, heart pounding in your chest as you make little desperate sounds, hoping that will be enough for him. He seems to be in a particular mood tonight, however, his silence and lack of action is deafening, only serving to make you more desperate for his cock, for praise, degradation, anything, you just needed him. 

You didn’t care if your ass stung or your body felt a bit boneless, or if your breath is coming in staccato little pants, you just want the familiar stretch, heat of him inside of you, fucking into you until you feel whole again. Fucking you until your mind goes dumb with pleasure and you’re drooling into the bedding below you, sobbing his name.

“Please, Keigo, wan’ your fat cock to stretch me out, ruin me, fuck me stupid, I love it so much, please,” You slur, turning your head to the side, so your words aren’t muffled by your bedsheets, desperate fat wet tears starting to run down your face as you hiccup.

He coos with faux sympathy, leaning down to catch one on his tongue, the wet taste of salt on his tongue. 

“Yeah? You want this cock? This cock’s the only one that can stretch you out so good, leave you sore for days, huh little dove?” He murmurs, the faux sympathy entering his voice too as he rocks himself against your dripping little cunt, still rubbing the head against your twitching hole. He slaps it against your clit for good measure, relishing in the little squeak he gets in response.

You nod rapidly, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth, eyes glittering with more unshed tears. He looks positively elated at the state you’re in, smirking smugly down at you as his sharp avian eyes gaze all around your teary eyed, warm little face, cheek slightly squished by the bed underneath you. 

“When you look this fucked out when I’ve only made you cum once, how can I deny?” He whispers, a slow sadistic grin rising on his face as he suddenly lurches forward, shoving the entirety of his thick cock inside of your wet hole all at once.

You squeal at the sudden intrusion, writhing under him as he presses all of his body weight against you, intending to fuck you into the bed with it. He’s so thick inside of you, stretching you out, bordering on painful even though you’ve taken him so many times now, you can feel him throb at the little pants and gasps that escape your mouth. 

“Fuck! Nngh, Kei-go, feels so good inside,” You sob, clawing at the sheets beneath you, the pain subsiding into pleasure as he very graciously lets your walls adjust to his thickness, the length of him, a little, anyways, before he completely starts ruining you.

“Mm, know it does, fuck you’re so tight, your pussy was made for me, you know,” He grunts, mouth open as he pants, a bit like a dog at the feeling of your tight wet walls squeezing his cock, nearly a vice grip. 

Sweat rolls down his temple as he fights the urge to start pounding into you, he’d already pushed it by shoving it all in at once, he didn’t actually want to cause you any more pain than strictly necessary, by his standards. Besides, you’d been so good for him, only disobeying him once, he deemed the brand on your ass a fitting punishment. 

When he feels you trying to rock back against him, goad him into fucking you, he laughs, mocking and deceptively sweet in your ear as he lifts up your head by your neck, long fingers winding around it.

“So desperate for me to make you my little cocksleeve, huh, angel?”

“Don’t test your luck, you’ll get fucked when I’m good and ready, so be patient, ok? Just wanna enjoy your tight little cunt clenching around me.” You don’t miss the threat in his words, wondering exactly what the next step up from a literal brand would be. 

But you listen, obedient, enjoying the sensation of his lips pressing against your sweaty face, tongue lapping up the salt he finds on your warm cheek, before moving down to your neck and suckling against the skin he finds there. 

He noses against it, the tenderness mixed with how harshly he’s been marking you swirling through your head in an intoxicating mix of love and lust you feel for him. Suddenly, you find yourself itching for a kiss.

“Kei, kiss please,” You beg, reduced to barely coherent sentences as you turn your face to look back at his, pleadingly, eyes wide and glassy, still full of unshed tears. 

How desperate you look, your eyes longingly begging him, your shaky little voice asking him for something so sweet makes his heart ache, through all the haze, the need to completely dominate you and make you his, over, and over, it makes him feel soft inside, his expression cracking from intimidating, to something softer, love-struck.

He obliges, leaning forward and pressing his lips against yours, licking into your mouth with slow, languid kisses, despite all of the fervor and heat he puts into them, you can feel he’s telling you how much he loves you, how grateful he is for you.

The room is filled with the wet sounds of you kissing, him grinding his cock against your sopping folds and against your eager hole as he slowly withdraws, before slamming into you harshly once more.

The once slow, sensual kisses turn fervid, as he bites and nibbles at your lips, tongue completely plundering your mouth as he loses himself to his base instincts to dominate, breed once more. 

His pace is nothing short of punishing, swollen cockhead pounding against the spot deep inside of you that makes you see stars, your pussy dripping copious amounts of your slick, so much so that it pools at the bottom of the sheets, down his heavy balls that are rapidly slapping against the sensitive newly carved skin of your ass.

The arm that isn’t wrapped around your waist, keeping you upright in a position so that he can kiss you, reaches down and rubs against your clit, greedily swallowing the muffled moans and mewls you make in his mouth as he continues ravaging you, feeling him throbbing inside of you, hearing the wet sounds you’re making around his cock, wet clicks and sloshes as he grunts and snarls into your messy kiss.

With every pass of the pads of his fingers over your oversensitive clit, pleasure rushes through you, up your spine and down into your toes, that curl with the overwhelming feeling, his expert fingers matching the punishing pace of his thrusts.

“Keigo-oh-oh,” You moan as he bounces you atop his cock, the motion making your words elongate, pleasure making your eyes roll back into your head, mouth flopped open as you drool, until he guides your head back to his with the strong grip of his hand, kissing you once more as the muffled sounds of your moans and his grunts fill the room, followed by the rapid sound of skin on skin as he continues fucking into your drenched pussy.

His wings span out behind him, crimson and beautiful in the dark, some of the feathers ruffling with the force of his oncoming orgasm, he can feel it, practically able to taste the ecstasy that’s going to overload his senses when he finally does, feeling you clench around his hard, throbbing length. 

He knows you’re close too. He can feel you tightening around him, feel the vibrations of your increasing moans against his lips as he kisses you, over and over, fingers rubbing tight quick little circles over your sensitive throbbing clit until he feels you pulse around him, a high little keen escaping you as you part for air, gasping and releasing little sobbing heaves of breath with the force of your orgasm, immediately sending him over the edge with you.

With a loud, drawn out moan of pleasure, he slumps against you, all but crushing you underneath his weight as his cock spurts his hot, thick cum inside your battered walls, feeling you pulse weakly around him in response, moaning out yourself in the relief the warmth offers you, his wings arching outward, spanning out to their full length as he shivers and whines.

He’s never cum this much before, still releasing soft little moans as he ruts inside of you, cock still hard and twitching, filling you to the brim with his warm sticky white cream, mumbling incoherently something about “making sure it takes” as he does.

“G’nna breed you, gonna knock you up, fill you with my brood, make sure you’re mine forever,” He slurs, face flushed red and yellow eyes unfocused, weakly moaning with every little rut against your backside, sliding back in forth in your pussy, eyes rolling back into his skull as he continues on babbling, feeling him get harder inside of your sore little pussy with every word. 

“Gotta cum inside you again ‘n again, gotta breed you, fuuuck,” He groans, speed increasing inside you as he gets desperate once more just from the little fantasies playing out in his head. 

You whimper with overstimulation, as the head of his cock once more batters against your sweet spot, the wet squishy sounds it makes as it thrusts in and out even more obscene with the added cum inside of you acting as lube, dripping out of you and making a little puddle on the bed beneath you.

He’s growling now, sinking his sharp teeth into your shoulder, between the junction of your neck, biting down hard as he pounds into you once more as you writhe and mewl beneath him, his long thick fingers once more rubbing against your abused oversensitive clit.

“Take it, god, gonna cum, gonna breed your little cunt!” He snarls as he cums once more, pressed up against the plush thick ring of your cervix, shooting more ropes of his warm milky white seed into your fertile little womb as he pants, shaking with rare overexertion, some of his feathers shooting off somewhere into the room with the force of it. 

Something about the idea of him breeding you seems to have taken everything out of him, you think as he watches his cum seep out of your tender little hole, fucking it back in with his long, thick fingers, then he reaches out for you, tugging you against him so he’s spooning you.

He peppers you with kisses, weakly murmuring praise, telling you how good you’d been for him, how proud he was of you, how gorgeous you looked covered in sweat with his cum dripping out of your sweet little pussy, all for him, how pretty you’d look swollen with his brood, tummy round and stretched.

“I’d take such good care of you, promise. God you’re so gorgeous, I love you,” He moans, shaky arms wrapped around you, still immersed in his little fantasy, feeling him hard against your back once more, knowing with relief he’s still too weak from his last orgasm to do anything yet. 

You’d at the very least get a couple hours of rest before he’d continue on, insatiable with the need to claim you over and over until the first rays of morning light filtered through your window.

#keigo takami smut #hawks smut #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader

[itstittycitybaby]

V Halloween Special

a/n: happy halloween you guys! i will be posting this along with another special on halloween. i went with something very different instead of what i had planned. i really didn’t like how it was coming out and i wasn’t proud of it. so here we are.

The chilly air welcomed you as you lurked into the night. The moon brightened London’s desolate streets. The curfew had rid people from roaming in the night and instead left the ghosts to roam free.

Lit pumpkins sat on doorsteps, grinning at you as you walked by. The halloween lights on balconies shimmered beautifully. Halloween night was eerie and desolate except for your footsteps on the pavement. There were no henchmen in sight. However, you’d find them soon enough.

London had been tainted by Chancellor Sutler’s reign. Its people have suffered greatly because of their weakness. Humans were such fragile things. Something you’ve come to learn from your five hundred years of life. 

The people of London were weak but it wasn’t their fault. It was all the Chancellor’s; the power he held over them was great, but your strength was greater.

Your ears perked up. The sound of footsteps that scuffled in the alley made your senses heighten. You could feel them. Four henchmen were following you. A delighted grin pulled at your lips making your fangs flash in the night. A feast was walking straight towards you; the prey falling gently into the spider’s web.

You could feel their hearts getting closer and closer. You turned around, skirt swooshing around your knee.

“What do we have here? A pretty lady out past curfew?” The man’s words slurred. There were four of them. They whistled as they circled in front of you like wolves. You couldn’t help but scoff; men were never polite or kind, no matter what people said. They would always be pigs.

You didn’t say anything, but kept your eyes focused on what seemed to be the leader. He was bigger and more burly than the others. He walked with arrogance and pride. It was cute, really.

“Cat got your tongue? Shame really, would’ve enjoyed someone more vocal.” They closed in on you. They laughed as you got into a fighting stance. You smirked, ready to pounce. “Well, no one will hear you, that’s for sure.”

Foot shifting slightly to the right, you pounced on the man to your left. He cried out as his back smacked to the floor. You straddled him and clenched your legs tightly around him so he couldn’t escape. The others stood in horror as you sunk your teeth into his neck and drank. The man underneath you screamed until he became limp. You chuckled darkly as you rose up from him. “I’m just helpless aren’t I?”

The glimmer in your eyes was feral. You grinned wickedly and licked your lips. His blood was bitter but it would do. The three men pulled out their weapons. “We’ll k-kill you vampire,” the leader stuttered, holding his knife with trembling hands. You giggled. It was high pitched and deranged. You could feel their heart beats rapidly pump in their chests and their blood running cold. “Aww,” you cooed, lips pulling into a pout. “Don’t be scared. You’ll spoil the blood.” 

The leader lunged at you. You dodged gracefully, sliding to the left. One of the other men tried to slice you with his dagger but missed. 

You dodged their attacks swiftly with ease. Humans were no match for a vampire. Playing with your food always made you excited. Hunting for so many years became boring, but seeing horrible people like these henchmen beg for mercy never failed to get you off.

The sound of metal screeching together made you halt. You and the henchman in front of you snapped your heads at another opponent. 

They wore all black with a little hat on their head. If you weren’t in the middle of feeding, you would have thought it was cute. Their dark hair barely touched their shoulders and they had a short curtain of bangs. 

What caught your eye was the mask. Guy Fawkes. A strange sight to see from the resemblance of the man. The grinning smile the mask had was eerie. You couldn’t help but admire the person as they gracefully sparred the leader. 

Your arm errupted in pain. Its sting traveled throughout your body. One of the henchmen had taken your surprise and turned it against you. You snarled, bearing your fangs. He clutched his dagger tightly and lunged. He was too slow. You tackled him onto the ground and leapt on him.

You clamped your hand around his mouth tightly, muffling his screams as you tore into him. The henchmen writhed underneath you, but you were stronger. His blood had spoiled from the fear that had coursed through his veins. You grumbled as your got off of him, “So much for a feast,” you grunted as you dusted your skirt off.

You heard a hiss. You lifted your head to examine the scene in front of you. The four henchmen laid dead on the concrete floor. Your nostrils flared as a sweet smell hit you. Blood. You felt a tinge of arousal as you basked in the glorious scent. The person in the Guy Fawkes mask grunted, clutching their side tightly. Your mouth watered at the wonderful smell. 

Their head snapped up once they heard your boots clicking onto the brick cement. The dagger in their grip tightened as they studied your movements. “I’m not going to hurt you,” you said gently, hands raising in front of you. “I just want to take a look at your wound.”

The person laughed. It was followed by a grunt of pain.“And why should I trust you? A vampire looking at my wounds? A bit funny isn’t it.” There was no malice in the man’s tone. It was genuine curiosity.

“I only kill people who hurt others. Like Chancellor Sutler, for example. I don’t believe you’re on of those people. Feel free to correct me of course, and I’ll have no problem pouncing on you.” V grinned under his mask. The idea of meeting a vampire on halloween night made him want to laugh.

“I’m not a vile man who takes away people’s freedom if that’s what you’re insinuating.” “Then what are you?”

The man’s eyes watched you closely on you once you were finally arms length away from him. His blood smelled so sweet and you knew it would be delicious. He would be delicious to devour. But you were no monster (aside from the fangs and the literal blood thirst that pumped through your veins). This man had swooped in to save you from the disgusting pigs. Even if you didn’t need it, the thought still counts. You owed him a favor now and you were intending to full fill it.

“Ah, you ask a man in a mask who or what he is. Obviously you can see I wear a mask and what I am is a man who wears a mask.” The man coughed, his words becoming more strained and weak. 

You snorted. “Listen, as much as I endure your charming dialouge and smooth voice, the more you talk the weaker you get. So, while I take you back to my place, you can tell me then. Sound good?”

He was silent for a few moments. Out of shock for being interrupted or what, you didn’t care. This man was loosing blood and he was loosing it fast.

“How can I trust you?” You sighed. “Well, if you don’t want to die then take the chance. Something tells me your time to die isn’t now. So what will it be? Dying and in the end I drink from your delicious neck, or you come with me and survive?”

V felt his cheeks flush. Well, you were rather forward. He mulled it over before nodding weakly. “Alright, I’ll take the chance. I might need some help getting there.” You grinned. V’s heart beat faster at the glinting fangs in the moonlight. “Perfect,” you replied. You wrapped your arm around his shoulders, the other on his waist. The man leaned on you for support and the two of you limped back to your humble abode.

**** 

V looked around the flower shop. The bright florescent light flickered on, revealing the wide range of colors to flowers. He was in awe as he gazed around the shop. V had passed by this shop during his missions without a second thought. He didn’t pay attention the shops anymore because he could no longer visit them.

“Your shop is beautiful,” V praised, gazing at a batch of garden roses that were arranged neatly in a bin. “Thank you,” you said, smiling. “I’ve always loved flowers, even as a human. They’re the only things that make me happy.” 

“I’m assuming you can’t run it in the day.” You smiled sadly, grabbing the first aid kit from under the register. “You’ve assumed correctly. I have two assistant’s who come in during the day. I’m the one that orders the flowers and take care of the greenhouse.”

 You sighed softly, “Ready? I’ll patch you up in the back.” “No witnesses,” V asked jokingly. You laughed. “Smart man.”

****

“Mind taking off your tunic?” V froze; he forgot taking off his tunic was an important part in this matter. You were so charming and sweet that he forget.

“Uh,” he stammered, “on second thought I can do it.” You shook your head. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. I promise I won’t ‘suck your blood’ or something like that.” V’s heart striked with guilt. That was not the reason why; in fact, if you actually asked to feed V found himself willing. The thought scared him when he had just met you. What was scarier was you seeing him underneath the persona of the mask.

“You’re bleeding out. I really need to make you’re okay,” you said gently. “Alright,” he whispered. “Close your eyes.” You arched a brow but shut them anyways. It was dark and all you could hear was the rustling of fabric. It was silent for a few moments but the man in front of you murmured that he was ready.

What you were expecting wasn’t the sight in front of you. His skin was pink and very scared. Whoever this man was had been in some kind of accident. He still had his mask on which was odd but you didn’t comment about it. The air was tense between the two of you. The man seemed to be waiting for something. A reaction, or maybe for disgust? 

You didn’t say anything at all. The man seemed surprised that you opened the first aid kit instead, and pulled the supplies out that you needed instead. You focused on threading the needle and made a small noise of victory once it went through. “This may hurt a bit,” you warned. 

V hissed softly at the sting of the needle going in. Eventually he got used to the pattern of the needle being pulled from his skin. The pain became dull the longer it went on. “Why are you doing this for me?”

“A favor.” V’s brows furrowed underneath his mask. “A favor?” “Mhm. You really didn’t have to step in and help me out there.” “It’s my duty to help a beautiful woman in danger. Although, you could’ve handled them yourself.” You snorted, “Quite the flatterer.” “Sorry,” V grunted as a particular sensitive spot you were stitching. “I genuinely mean it. It wasn’t my intention to make you...uncomfortable.”

“It’s not that,” you said, tying a knot and reaching over for the scissors. “Just surprised. Not many would call my kind beautiful after witnessing someone’s neck being ripped out.” The man didn’t say anything as you snipped the loose thread. He watched you peel the gauze before kneeling back down again. “It must be hard. Having to control your instincts.” “Yes, it is.” You stuck the gauze on him with tape and lifted yourself off the floor. “Thank you.”

You smiled. It was a genuine smile. “Of course.” The two of you stared at each other. You couldn’t see his eyes but his gaze felt warm. It made your heart flutter and if you could blush, you would be like a silly school girl. The man looked like he wanted something more to say but thought better of it. He reached for his tunic and slipped it on, while you went back to front of the store to put the supplies away.

****

The man stayed there for a few hours before heading back out. He stubbornly refused to leave his empty mug in the sink, and persisted to wash it. Looking at the drying mug made your heart tug with sadness. The man was so charming and polite that it made you want him to stay. It had been so long since you’ve had a connection. Now that it was gone, it made your heart sink.

 The sun was about to come up and grace the people of London with hope. After the mysterious man left you went back down into the basement. You couldn’t help but think of him as your coffin closed shut. There was something about him that drew you in. Maybe it was the sweet blood running through his veins, or his kindness. Whatever it was, it left you craving for more.

You slept as the sun rose lazily. The customers in the shop didn’t know what truly laid beneath the adored flowers. They were clueless and very naive to what true dangers lurked in the undergrounds. 

Before your last assistant left for the night they handed you flower. Your eyes widened in surprise. It was a rare rose that had been thought to be extinct. Hell, you haven’t seen one in a very long time. It was a Scarlet Carson and on the stem was a neatly tied black ribbon. “Who left this?”

Your assistant shrugged. “Dunnno. It was in the mail slot on the door. Came with this too.” She handed you a slip of paper. The handwriting was written in calligraphy, its swirls intricate and drawn with care. As she closed up shop behind you, you read the words over and over again.

“Thank you, my dearest rose. I look forward to seeing you again, mademoiselle.”

                      -V

#v for vendetta #v for vendetta x reader #x reader #reader insert #fanfiction #fan fics #fanfic #fan fiction #fan fic

[steelandsalt]

PSD SOURCE

⸻  the heralds are announcing the arrival of ELENEI BARATHEON, known as the LADY of STORM’S END. you may have heard some tales of this TWENTY SIX year old, but the more well - informed tongues speak of them being COURAGEOUS & CAPABLE though sadly, they also passed on rumours of them being TEMPERMENTAL & SHORT SIGHTED. according to their mun, the bards are requested to play DON’T KILL MY VIBE by SIGRID when they enter the room. may the gods protect them in the years to come.

Quick Stats

Name: Elenei Baratheon Place of birth: Storm’s End Residence: Storm’s End Marital Status: Widowed Siblings: 3 brothers, 1 sister  Children: 1 son, Giovan, aged 4 Religion: Faith of the Seven

489 - 507 birth - aged 18

tw - premature birth

Elenei was born on the night of the worst storm of the year, two moons earlier than expected. As she came into the world, the wind howled, and the sea crashed into the rock that Storm’s End perched on. The severity of the storm recalled tales of the origin of the keep, of the sea and wind deities hammering The Stormlands for the return of their wayward daughter, whose blood flowed through Baratheon veins, and so she was named for Elenei, the mythical first storm queen. 

Few expected her to survive. She was premature and far smaller than a normal babe, but her cry was strong. It was early in life that she began defying expectations, and that would continue throughout her life. She was a noisy baby; even when she was content, she yelled and gurgled and made herself known. They should have realised that was an omen of things to come, for Elenei Baratheon had a will as unyielding as valyrian steel, and would never learn to be silent. 

Shrieking babe became wild toddler, wild toddler became feral child. The fourth of five eventual children, and a younger daughter, she was fortunate that her elder siblings born the burden of responsibility when it came to the furtherment of their house. There were expectations on her, to be sure, but for the most part, she was afforded a sense of leniency - and for every inch of freedom they granted her, Elenei took a mile. To anybody who worked in Storm’s End, Elenei was the bane of their existence. She terrorised the servants, the gardeners, the cooks, the squires. Nobody was safe from her unique brand of mischief, and though some were as fond of her as her father was, others would curse her name to delighted laughs from the noble brat.

The worst of her behaviour was reserved for the Septas who came to educate her. it was to their frustration that they realised that Elenei was not an incompetent student - she had a head for figures and a remarkable memory for history, having memorised a great number of houses, sigils and words before her seventh name day, though she didn’t have the patience for needlepoint, and her musical talents left a lot to be desired. However, it became very clear that her lessons bored her, and even attempts to introduce her to more advanced concepts were met with utter disinterest. 

Where she her attention lay was in all things physical. She was always short for her age, growing to stand at five foot two in her adulthood, but she was lithe and nimble, and she moved with a fluid grace that one would not expect from a girl with so much chaos in her soul. She could dance better than anyone, and rode a horse like she was half-centaur. She can hunt, she can climb, and she is fast, and of that she is most proud. Whether because of her strong will, or because her father found it necessary for his children to learn to defend themselves, she was allowed to hone her skill with a blade. She has trained hard at weaponry, can throw a knife with great accuracy at 100 paces and has grown used to the weight of a sword in her hand. She fights with two now, light, but sharp blades clutched in either hand. Though she has never tasted battle, she is good, more than capable of holding her own. She knows that, though strong for her size, she cannot win a fight on strength and force alone, and so relies on her agility and speed to win, a tactic that serves her well. 

507 - 510 aged 18 - 21

tw - slut shaming

It was perhaps her boisterous nature that led her to seek out the company of the various boys who visited Strom’s End, be they knights or the sons of visiting lords who made regular appearances. She had become incredibly hedonistic, stoked by the wildness in her nature. She’d grown to be a drinker, and a gambler, and intensely passionate in her relationships with others. Her choice of company led to her developing a certain reputation unbefitting of a girl of her stature in the world. It became imperative to marry her off, lest her chances be ruined - either by hearsay and gossip, or because the prospect of an indiscrete birth of a bastard was a real concern. 

What didn’t help was that she had grown to ask questions. Despite her upbringing, Elenei had become a rather informal woman, somebody who thought little of taking time to speak with everyone, whether they be an esteemed member of a great house or a member of the small folk. It was only then that her shrewd mind began to think critically about the way her family ruled. Under the veneer of her vivacity lay a compassionate soul, and so she returned to the Ruling Lord, confronting him with the hard truth of how his people felt. A few weeks after that, on her twenty-first name day, her betrothal was announced - she was to marry into a powerful magister family in Lys, the furthest place she could possible be sent. 

510 - 513

aged 21 to 24

tw - death, parent and child separation

Vehemently opposed to her marriage at first, Elenei was surprised to find a friend of her husband. A progressive man, he was more than willing to give her an insight into politics, and allow her to help him in his duties. Far away from the problems growing in the Stormlands, Elenei grew happy in her role, and within a year of her marriage, had given birth to a son, Giovan. Whilst she and her husband were not in love, they were content together, but their relative peace did not last long. Less than two years after the wedding, a short, unexpected illness saw her husband dead, and Elenei a widow. 

She intended to stay in Lys, to be close to her son and help to raise him, but unfortunately, her plans were not to come to be. Her husband’s family were wary of how much influence she may come to wield over the boy, wanting to mould him in their own image as a future representative of their will. And so, kicking and screaming, she was returned to The Stormlands, to her ancestral home, where she could be remarried once more. 

513 - 515 (present day)

aged 24 to 26

For the first few weeks she was returned home, Elenei was even wilder than anybody remembered, determined to return to Lys, or have her son brought to her. whispers of madness began to circulate, however, before they could fully take root and spread, a startling realisation rocked her to her core, jolting her back to her senses. Things in The Stormlands were even worse than when she left - and despite her deep longing to be reunited with her child, there were matters at home that needed her attention more. 

Despite her concerns earlier in life, Elenei had always been proud of her family and lineage, and despite her own critique of their methods, unwaveringly loyal. With the rebellion, that loyalty could continue no longer. Even though it failed, she found that she could not bring herself to side with her brother, not with so many suffering. Whilst yet to voice her opinions out loud to her family, she’s quietly made enquiries behind the scenes. With the recent assassination attempt, she’s been further split between her beliefs and her family - but if she’s involved, surely she can help prevent further attempts on his life, whilst wielding whatever influence she could behind the scenes. 

Misc

The fire in her can be a beautiful thing, warm and bright and leaving her humming with an energy that comes from deep within her, a passion and a zest for life that can’t be touched. She makes a warm and loving friend, but behind that is a danger. She can scorch hot enough to burn, and is prone to jealousy and quick to anger. The temper of Elenei Baratheon is legendary, and once you have fallen out of your favour, she will hold a grudge that she may never relinquish, her stubborn nature leaving her unforgiving, even long after she has forgotten why she was ever angry. 

Many who knew her before Lys recall a wild, passionate and carefree girl, but the tragedy of losing her son, and the stress of the prospect of losing the rest of her family weighs on her heavily. Those who know her best will note how her smile does not reach her eyes any longer, how the lines of a permanent frown seem etched between her brows, and how melancholy seems to hang over her when it seems that nobody is looking. 

The only place that provides calm to her soul any longer is the ocean. Something about the water soothes her, and the spray on her face and the water lapping at her ankles grounds her when things get overwhelming. In times of trouble, she can most often be found roaming along the shore, utterly alone. 

Wanted connections

Former Lovers - From the ages of 18 to 21, Elenei was more indiscrete than she should have been, and had taken more than one man to bed. I would imagine they would be on friendly terms still, but this is totally up for negotiation [0/3]

Close confidant - the one person who truly knows everything that is plaguing her, that she shares everything with without fear of repercussion [0/1]

Rival - For whatever reason, they’ve never gotten along, and this person knows the brunt of Elenei’s temper better than anybody [0/1]

Potential Betrothed - whether by her family’s devising, or her own political moves, they are in the early stages of negotiating a betrothal contract. I would imagine there’s no real emotion here, but whether there’s an attraction or anything develops for good or bad in the future can be plotted [0/1]

#pls dont look too closely at the graphic i made it in 2 mins bc photoshop was being so slow i couldn't take any more #so i didnt bother cleaning up the edges on the PNG in the middle #o well #oath.intro #any other baratheons feel free to hmu if there is anything that needs an amend

[jessepinwheel]

Omg thank you for filling my fives prompt! It's delightful i love it! Can i be selfish and request another prompt tho lol. I'm sure fives is not the only one mooning prof obi while he's teaching. It'd be hilarious to see him effect a master or knight that way

Detective Obi-Wan is so feral he doesn't even realize he looks like 30 year old Ewan McGregor

When Obi said he would start doing a series of seminars for the Jedi, Bant had been surprised. Not because Obi was a bad teacher or anything--she was certain he would be great at it--but because both he and Master Che had made it abundantly clear that the less time Obi-Wan spent within the Temple, the better it would be for his health. Or, rather, Obi-Wan had said that going to the Temple was ‘inconvenient’, and Master Che had said it was a miracle that Obi-Wan was even alive with how much time his soul spent outside of his body, and that she would personally hunt down anyone who endangered him further by forcing him to enter Temple grounds unnecessarily.

Well, thankfully for Master Windu’s continued health, he had not arranged for Obi-Wan to do his seminars at the Temple but at a nearby university for the arts which had some long-standing connections with the Order and was the home of Master Windu’s very brief theater career some decades back. Most of Obi-Wan’s seminars were about information sciences and security, though he occasionally also did talks about other Force traditions, especially the ones observed on Jedha.

Bant was usually on call at the Halls of Healing, so she didn’t have a lot of time to attend these seminars, but the few she’d attended were very good. Obi-Wan commanded a stage almost effortlessly--a far cry from when he’d stammered through assignments as a youngling--and his expertise on his subjects was abundantly obvious, as was his enthusiasm. Teaching suited him.

This week, Bant stops by the university after her shift at the Halls, just in time to catch the tail end of Obi’s talk. The atmosphere’s a bit more subdued in the lecture hall than usual--a lot of people don’t seem to be paying all that much attention to the seminar for once. A quick look at Obi makes it pretty obvious why:

He’s shaved his beard.

Obi-Wan had joked before that he’d grown the beard out so people would take him seriously as a detective, but it’s never been more obvious than now--clean-shaven, he looks absurdly young. If Bant didn’t know better, she would guess he was twenty-five at most.

And if shaving his beard wasn’t enough, Obi-Wan has decided to wear an embroidered wine-red Alderaan style blazer that has obviously been tailored to fit him perfectly and his hair has been braided back into rosettes and pinned with shining brass ornaments. Even the long gloves that cover his mechanical hand are sharper than usual, a complimentary fawn brown with decorative straps across the back. Bant doesn’t even know where Obi-Wan got such nice clothes from, but she can easily admit he wears it extraordinarily well.

No wonder everyone seems a little dazed. At least a third of the people who attend these seminars already only do it to see Obi-Wan talk--Bant can’t imagine what havoc this is going to wreak.

Obi-Wan brings his seminar to a close, and Bant is one of maybe ten people in the hall with enough of her wits to remember to applaud. After a small closing statement (nobody has any questions today), people filter out of the hall.

Bant catches Obi by the exit.

He sees her immediately and smiles. “Bant, it’s great to see you. You look wonderful today.”

Bant pulls him into a quick hug. “Good to see you, too, Obi. Sorry I wasn’t able to come earlier--I wanted to see your whole lecture, but I had to stay late at the Halls.”

“Oh no, it’s fine,” Obi-Wan says as he tugs Bant along down the hallway. “Feral tells me it’s a circus in there these days. Master Che’s getting some new equipment installed or something?”

“Something like that. A lot of the east wing needs to be updated, so we’ve had to shuffle everything around while the technicians do their work,” Bant says. “What was your seminar about today?”

Obi-Wan hums. “Data degradation and preservation. I’m not sure it was a very good seminar, though. I might need to revise it for the next time I do this talk.”

“What do you mean?” Bant asks. “I know I only came in at the end, but it seemed like a perfectly good seminar.”

“Well, nobody was paying much attention,” Obi-Wan says. “So I assume either the subject or my presentation left something to be desired.”

Bant opens her mouth, then closes it. “Obi,” she says. “They weren’t distracted because your seminar was bad. They were distracted because you look like that.” Bant gestures to the entirety of Obi-Wan’s body.

Obi blinks. “Like...myself?”

“I mean you dressed up.”

“I always dress up for lectures.”

“...Not like this, you don’t. Where did you even get those clothes?”

“Bail gave them to me. I finally let his tailor take my measurements, so obviously he wasted no time in trying to replace my entire wardrobe. I wouldn’t usually wear this, but Bail threw all my clothes in the wash and I had to get here in time for the seminar. It was either wear this or look like a soggy tooka.” Obi-Wan self-consciously straightens his blazer. “I didn’t think this jacket looked too bad--it’s a subtle design.”

“It looking bad isn’t the problem,” Bant says. “And excuse me, but did you just say you were at Senator Organa’s apartment before coming here?”

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “I don’t go to Republica 500 if I can help it. There’s this, ah, diplomatic suite on the west end of the Senate District that Breha uses when she visits Coruscant, and Bail and I are staying there for now.”

Bant decides to leave aside the fact that Obi is apparently on first name terms with both Senator and Queen Organa. “So...you are staying with Senator Organa.”

“Yes, but only for a few days,” Obi-Wan replies. “We’re working on a case together, which I can’t talk about, but there’s some time-sensitive elements involved. It’s easier to make our moves if we stay together until it’s resolved.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t explain your hair,” Bant says. “You didn’t have to make it so fancy for a lecture.”

“My hair?” Obi-Wan reaches back to touch his braids. “Bant, I have no idea what’s going on with my hair anymore. These days, whenever I spend time with someone, they redo my hair. I’ve completely stopped keeping track of what happens back there. Did Bail do something besides rosettes?”

Senator Organa braided Obi-Wan’s hair. Okay. That’s...weird to think about. “He put ornaments in it,” Bant says, “They’re shiny brass. It really brings out the redness.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad,” Obi-Wan says, waving hello to one of the Republic soldiers and causing them to nearly walk into a wall. “That shouldn’t distract people that much.”

“You also shaved your beard,” Bant points out.

“I had to. I went to the Senatorial Ball the other day, and I needed to be clean-shaven for that.” He rubs his chin. “I didn’t really want to--I probably won’t be able to get anyone to hire me again until it grows back, and I’m not sure Feral and Savage will like how I look without it, but Bail asked me nicely and I was trying to go incognito--some of the Senators there know what the lower half of my face looks like. What does my beard have to do with anything?”

“Your students aren’t distracted because your seminar was bad, they’re distracted because they think you’re hot.”

Obi-Wan frowns. “What? Surely not.”

Bant takes a deep breath. “...Obi. Are you an idiot?”

“Not typically.”

“Then how have you not noticed people think you are, in Quinlan’s words, a snack?”

“Please tell me he doesn’t actually say that,” Obi-Wan says.

“Oh, he says and has said much worse,” Bant says. She can hardly count the number of times she’s had to talk Quinlan out of propositioning her brother. She deserves a medal in patience for that alone. “But that’s not the point. Surely, surely, someone’s told you you’re very attractive for a human male. Senator Organa, maybe?” After all, he was the one responsible for Obi-Wan’s current appearance.

“Well, of course he does--we’re friends.”

“Right,” Bant says. “Friends.”

“Very good friends, if you must know,” Obi-Wan says. “Of course we compliment each other.”

“Okay...but you also get flirted with regularly. I’ve seen people flirt with you. Force, you flirt back!”

“What are you talking about?”

Unbelievable. Bant valiantly resists the urge to put her face in her hands. “You call people pet names. You’re constantly telling people you think they’re beautiful or marvelous or whatever. You accept offers to go out to dinner with near-strangers.”

“That’s not flirting--I do it all the time. It’s friendly.”

Bant breathes in, counts to ten, and lets it out. Obi-Wan was oblivious when they were younglings, but he’s thirty-five now. Surely, after all his trials and all the things he’s learned... “Obi, you...please don’t tell me you think that’s just how a normal conversation should go.”

“Is it not?” Obi-Wan asks. “People enjoy it when I compliment them--I’m not lying when I do it, and I’m careful to not be rude about it. Am I not supposed to?”

“It’s not about what you’re not supposed to do. My point is that most people don’t do that. Unsolicited compliments are considered flirtatious, Obi.”

“People compliment me all the time.”

“Yes! That’s my point! I love you, Obi, but you are denser than a black hole. People compliment you because they think you’re attractive. They’re not doing it just to be polite.”

Obi-Wan frowns. “Really? And you’re saying this outfit...”

Bant sets a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “It looks very good on you. You look like you’re going to audition for a fashion holomag.”

“You must be exaggerating.”

“Trust me on this one, I’m not. I can ask Quinlan to back me up--I already hear way too much about how badly he wants to tap that.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I heard it myself on our trip to and from Dathomir,” Obi-Wan replies. “Once he came to terms with my still being alive, he made sure to inform me how much he enjoyed my appearance.”

All right. Clearly, Obi-Wan is completely hopeless. “He told you that and you thought he was just being friendly?”

“I mean, it’s Quinlan. He’s always a bit on the crude side,” Obi-Wan says. “What I’m getting from this conversation is that if I want people to pay attention to my seminars, I should dress worse.”

At times like this, Bant wishes she knew if Obi-Wan was serious or just messing with her. Unfortunately, they haven’t spent enough time each other for her to judge that offhand and his medical condition with regards to the Force renders her ability to judge people’s emotions that way completely useless.

“That was not at all the point of this conversation,” Bant says. “But you know what? If that’s what you got out of it, that’s good. We can work on the other parts another time.”

Obi-Wan grins. “Well, I’m always glad to have your insight, Bant. We should get together again sometime when my case is over--all of us. Get dinner somewhere nice, maybe, and play a few rounds of sabaac.”

“That’s a good idea,” Bant says. “You should invite Senator Organa, too. We could all get to know each other a little better.”

It would be good, after all, to give Senator Organa a talk about Obi-Wan. Just to be safe.

#star wars #fanfic #obi-wan kenobi #bant eerin #fic: asynchronous circuit #ask jesse #anonymous #jessepinwrites

[changingourdestiny]

Season of the Hunt Finale: A True Hunter

Summary:

It’s finally over. The Celebrant is defeated. Spider no longer has a hold on Crow. The only left question is now what?

Previous Part: Here

Spider let out a small growl as he heard the laughter of the four Guardians outside the lair. He muttered a curse in Eliksni as he sat back in his chair.

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

Spider’s attention snapped to his left as Marcia decloaked, leaning against a pile of crates that were stacked against the wall. The guards went to raise their spears, but Spider raised a hand, stopping them. “What do you want, Marcia?” Spider growled, “I’m not in the mood for your ‘antics’.”

“I’ll say.” Marcia chuckled, “I just snuck in to see the end result of Paralight’s one-on-one with the Celebrant. Y’know, you always talk about how Drifter and I can’t seem to keep our mouths shut…and yet it was your big mouth that got your ‘little bird’ taken away. “Anything in the lair.” Honestly, how did you think that would end?”

Spider narrowed his eyes at Marcia as she stood up straight, “But if you want me to be honest here…I came here to give you a titbit of advice.”

“And that is…?”

Marcia’s expression turned serious, “Don’t underestimate Rae. She ain’t the same Guardian that walked in here two years ago.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well first off, she seems to be taking my advice. She’s started making her own rules and is starting to find things out for herself instead of taking the Vanguard’s word for granted. She’s beginning to think for herself. Secondly, and honestly more seriously, she’s got a new trick now.”

“Yes, yes, I’m aware of Stasis.” Spider replied dismissively.

“Not Stasis.”

Spider seemed intrigued as Marcia continued, “She calls it Darknebula. And from what I can tell, it works in the opposite way to Starlight.”

“Explain.”

“Starlight is triggered by the desire to protect and preserve life. Darknebula works in the opposite way: it’s triggered by the desire to kill and destroy it.” Marcia explained, “Basically, if someone was to, oh I don’t know…maybe anger her to the point of her wanting to completely annihilate them – whether she realises it or not – she becomes a feral killing machine that doesn’t stop until the source of that desire is dead. This is a warning, Spider. If she’s done following the Vanguard’s rules and you push her too far, it’s game over for you. I’ve seen that form first-hand when she was up against Eramis. Now the kell of Salvation is an ice sculpture on Europa.”

Spider just hmphed in response, “If she kills me, she loses her best ally on the Shore.”

Marcia laughed, “Oho, really? I look forward to seeing you try to tell that to a feral, acting-on-instinct Rae who has lost all sense of logic and reasoning. Hell, I’ll be impressed if you get more than a word out!” Marcia began to walk out, “Like I said, just a lil’ bit of advice for ya. Take it if ya want. See ya!”

Spider grumbled as he leaned back in his chair, watching the rogue leave.

“I hate that Hunter…”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been a few weeks since the High Celebrants defeat. Spider had sent an engineer to remove the explosives from Glint’s shell, officially ending his hold on Crow and his Ghost. However, there were still remaining Wrathborns lurking in the Shore and the Dreaming City, so Crow had remained in the lair to aid Paralight in wiping them out. The last of them had finally been wiped out and the cryptoliths had begun to decay without the Celebrant maintaining them. The hunt had finally come to a close.

Crow leaned on his workbench, deep in thought, but was pulled out by his vision suddenly going dark as two hands covered his eyes from behind.

“Guess who!”

“Rae?” Crow guessed with a smirk, “No, wait. It’s Marcia!”

“I don’t smell that bad!”

“Ha! I know it’s you, Blaze.”

Blaze removed her hands from Crow’s eyes and plopped her head on his shoulder, “Yup!” Crow poked Blaze’s forehead, “Bang.”

“Gah! Crow has killed the Celebrant! Curse you, Guardiaaaaans!” Blaze dramatically sunk to the floor while Crow laughed at her performance before motioning to her armour, “New look?”

Blaze’s usual blue and gold armour had been swapped for red and gold armour, a bit similar to her very first set. Her cloak, gloves and skirt looked like fiery feathers with her boots matching the upper half of her armour. “Yeah. I’d been sticking with blue and gold for a while now.” Blaze replied, “Figured I should switch it up a little.”

“It suits you.” Crow smiled. “Thanks.” Blaze grinned, a small blush appearing on her face, as the two leaned against the table with a sigh. “I suppose this is it.” Crow said with a sense of finality, “Time to say goodbye to the Reef. To the only home I've ever known.”

“Yeah…” Blaze sighed, “It’s weird. It’s been three months, but it feels like only a few days ago we met on the moon. Now it’s over.” The two stood in comfortable silence for a moment before Blaze spoke up again, “So what are you going to do now?”

“I’ve given it some thought.” Crow replied, “Osiris actually came by earlier and we talked for a while about my plans for the future. I told him I'd considered exploring somewhere remote, like Venus, but he suggested a different course."

“What’s that?”

Crow held his head up high, “I’m coming to the Tower.”

Blaze’s eyes widened as she stood up straight, “F-for real?”

Crow nodded with a smile, “People may judge the man I was, but I refuse to cower in the shadow of his legacy. I'm a Guardian. I need to act like one. I also talked to Rae about it. She suggested joining a Fireteam and…I’ve decided to join Paralight.”

Blaze’s eyes lit up at this before lunging at Crow, wrapping her arms around him as she let out a squeal of delight. Crow stumbled back a bit before steadying himself, letting out a chuckle as he returned the hug. “That’s great! You won’t regret it, I promise!”

“I know I won’t. I’m still a bit anxious about showing my face in the Tower, but I think I’ll be okay with you and the others.” Crow cupped Blaze’s cheek and gave her a brief kiss before touching his forehead to hers, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Crow.”

 The two pulled away upon hearing footsteps approach the workshop. A moment later, Rae and Adam entered wearing new armour of their own. Rae had cut her hair, so it looked similar to her Kinderguardian hairstyle. She now wore pink, purple and blue robes with the Stasis symbol on the skirt and metal, layered shoulder pads. She also wore a black and white bond that had a spade projection. Adam wore armour that was several shades of white and blue with a white furry collar. “Looks like you’re not the only one with a new look.” Crow noted as the two Guardians entered. “Yeah.” Rae laughed, rubbing the back of her neck, “I figured since I’m the Stasis Vanguard now, I should look like it.”

Crow turned to Adam, “And you?”

“Everyone was getting new looks, and I didn’t want to feel left out.” Adam shrugged. “Suuuure. It TOTALLY isn’t to impress a certain Awoken in the Dreaming City or anything.” Blaze chuckled. “Hardy har.” Adam rolled his eyes. Rae laughed at the two’s banter before turning to Crow, “So, you ready to go?”

“Almost. Osiris wanted to meet me before I arrive.” Crow replied, “Said he had something to give me.”

Rae nodded in understanding, “We’ll meet you in the Tower courtyard then. See you starside, Guardian.”

“See you starside.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What do you think Osiris wanted to give Crow?”

Rae stood in the courtyard with her Fireteam and the rest of the Vanguard. “If I had to make a guess…” Ikora gave a small smirk, “A lengthy lecture on the importance of being a Guardian.”

“That tracks!” Rae giggled. “Ikora had to get it from somewhere!” Cayde added, earning a laugh from Blaze. Ikora glared at Cayde and Blaze, who ducked behind Adam for protection from any potential incoming nova bombs.

“Oh helvete nej! I am not being your meat shield!” Adam walked away from the cowering Hunters.

“H-hey! What happened to Titans protecting others?” Cayde stammered.

“Not from angry Ikoras! I doubt even Shaxx would stand in the way of Ikora when she’s angry.”

“VERY TRUE!!” Shaxx yelled from the other side of the courtyard.

As the group continued their banter, Blaze noticed a figure emerge from the hangar entrance walking towards them. There was Crow, now wearing a short black and white cloak with a white crow displayed on it. Under it, his usual black scale-like armour was now white along with matching boots and now wore grey trousers. “How do I look?” Crow asked as he approached Blaze. “Like a true Hunter.” She smiled. Zavala stepped forward, “Welcome to the Tower, Guardian.”

“Thank you. I won’t let you down.” Crow nodded.

“Well before we do anything…” Cayde began, a serious tone to his voice, “There’s one important thing we need to do.”

“True, true.” Blaze agreed. “W-what? What’s wrong?” Crow asked, glancing between the two Hunters with concern.

“…INITIATION!!!” Cayde and Blaze yelled in unison as they both grabbed the arms of a very confused Crow and began leading him towards Tower’s Spicy Ramen. “We better go make sure they don’t cause trouble.” Rae chuckled. “I feel like that’s always a given when it comes to those two.” Ikora replied as she began walking back to her post.

 The rest of the evening was spent at Spicy Ramen, celebrating Crow joining the ranks of the Guardians. Crow still thought the noodles looked like worms but eventually gave in after some peer pressure from Blaze and Cayde and ended up enjoying it. They shared stories of their own embarrassing Kinderguardian moments, from Cayde falling off a cliff moments after his first revival to Paralight getting caught in a Benny Hills-style case with two minotaurs and a flock of harpies on Venus after running out of ammo while their Ghosts continued their scan. They also told stories of their greatest victories such as Adam’s infamous swordfight with Crota after Rae and Blaze were downed. Blaze and Crow joined in by telling them about how they both fended off Savathûn’s forces while trying to restore Hawkmoon. Slowly, Crow felt the anxiety of arriving at the Tower wash away. He knew there would still be Guardians who would hate him for his past self’s mistakes, despite what the Vanguard would say to them. He knew of the possible dangers awaiting him with the Darkness looming throughout the system. He knew of the certain chaos running with this trio of misfits would bring. But right now, he didn’t care. In that moment, he was surrounded by friends – his friends – laughing and sharing stories together. They knew of what his old self did, he could see it in their eyes, yet they still accepted him for who he was now. He knew who he was. And he knew who he would always be.

A Hunter.

A Guardian.

 Crow.

 End of Season of the Hunt.

#Changing our Destiny #rae drakyx #adam bergfalk #blaze kiria #fireteam paralight #The Spider #destiny spider #marcia wyverk #the crow #destiny crow #Zavala #destiny zavala #ikora rey #destiny ikora #cayde-6 #destiny cayde #lord shaxx #destiny shaxx #destiny 2

[bittersweetbiscotti]

Some Guardian Stuff

Icarus, Awoken Warlock

Icarus is Reefborn. She died on Earth during a special mission from the Queen at some undetermined point before the Reef Wars.

Her extreme, passionate personality is due to her innate Solar abilities and also the violent way she had died. 

Her animal affiliation is the fox because foxes are often associated with fire in various folklore around the world. Her signature weapon is the Two-Tailed Fox double-rocket launcher and her Ghost’s name is Fox for his bright orange shell.

Ikora gave her the name “Icarus” due to her solar powers and habit of destroying herself along with her enemies. 

Icarus was reborn as a Guardian six years ago and was stationed on the Moon for most of that time.

Her only claim to fame is killing the Vex Gate Lord which gave other Guardians access to the Black Garden and put her on Uldren’s permanent shit list. 

This only happened because she was specifically tasked by the Vanguard to be their emissary to the Reef. They actually got pissed at her for killing the Gate Lord instead of relaying the information for more experienced Guardians to handle.

Okay, but wiping that smirk off of Uldren’s face made it soooo worth it.

After certain undisclosed events at the Dreaming City which killed Uldren Sov, Icarus was placed on an indefinite probation on the Moon and is currently not allowed back in the Tower. She has been working under Eris Morn ever since until she was assigned to work with the Crow on hunting the Celebrant.

She does not remember what happened in the Dreaming City. All she knows is that something really bad happened and Uldren is now dead.

Icarus looks like Uldren on an almost eerie level, but her hair parts on the opposite side, like a mirror image. She and Crow are often mistaken for twins even though Icarus is Reefborn and Uldren is older than her by several thousand years.

Atara-7, EXO Titan

Atara-7 was reborn six years ago and did not speak at all due to the traumatic nature of her death.

The death of Cayde-6 made her speak for the first time. “Uldren Sov is mine”. Despite being a Titan, Atara-7 was attached to Cayde-6 for his warm and accepting nature and just being an interesting guy. Cayde-6 was the one who encouraged her to speak, so avenging his death became a very personal quest for her. 

Most other Guardians are intimidated by her because she is larger than the average EXO and doesn’t talk. Icarus and Cayde-6 were the only two who did not care for that. Years later, a trio of Hunter Kinderguardians kind of imprinted on her because they thought she was so cool.

Atara-7 seems to be drawn to people with more animated personalities.

Though Atara-7 talks more these days, her Ghost, Bubblegum, talks for her most of the time. He especially takes delight in relaying her much more blunt thoughts.

Bubblegum is named such because of his bright pink shell covered in little sharp points. Much like the bubblegum-filled-with-razor-blades urban legend.

Atara-7 once greatly admired Zavala, and his standards for Guardians gave her a sense of purpose. After Cayde-6′s death, she isn’t sure where her trust in the Vanguard stands anymore as Zavala’s lack of action goes against her own ideology. This rift is further created after she starts using Stasis against the Vanguard’s orders.

Atara-7 never takes off her helmet which only adds to her intimidation factor. She feels there’s no reason to take it off when she’s only in the Tower for five minutes at a time.

She met Icarus on the Moon when the Warlock saved her from a Wizard. No matter how much Atara-7 tried to ignore her after that, Icarus just kept following her. 

Though her lack of speaking, aloof nature, and massive frame makes her terrifying, Atara-7 is actually a kind person, level-headed, and a natural patient leader. She has a lot of affection for Icarus in particular.

It is because of this affection that Atara-7 is determined to never let Icarus know what really happened in the Dreaming City, and let the Warlock continue on in blissful ignorance.

Atara-7 was going to kill Uldren, but in the end, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. 

Lyko, Awoken-Hybrid Hunter

The Young Wolf

This is a title reserved for the apprentice of Lord Saladin who will one day take his place (as the old Iron Lord harbors no reliance on immortality). After the events of the SIVA Crisis, Saladin made this title official to the rest of the Vanguard.

As the Young Wolf, Lyko’s job is to lead raid teams and train Guardians in the Iron Banner. 

Lyko was extremely feral when she was reborn sometime after the Late City Age. She attacked Lord Saladin on sight when he wandered too close to her territory, not knowing what a Guardian is despite her Ghost’s desperate attempts to get her to listen. 

Though Saladin defended himself easily enough, he saw potential in her. And she also reminded him of a feral cub who has lost her pack. This sympathy made him take her in as his apprentice when he gets the idea to start reforming the Iron Lords. They have a grumpy-uncle-feral-niece relationship.

Lyko is half-human, half-Awoken Earthborn with Awoken dominant traits. Her skin is a pale lilac color that doesn’t possess the star shine of the Awoken.

There is no known history of who her parents were or what happened to them. There is evidence that Lyko has been on her own since she was a child. 

Lyko still possesses some of that feral nature, and is extremely shy. Her tendency to become much too quickly attached, like a puppy that follows you home, makes her even more cautious around others. 

She’s very territorial. Don’t touch her food. She will eat your face.

Because she maintains such a distance from others, the Young Wolf seem all the more mysterious. There are tons of wild rumors and tales surrounding the Young Wolf, which makes Lyko withdraw more and more because now she’s terrified of disappointing everyone if they find out who she really is.

Her Wolf helmet is unique and therefore extremely recognizable. But Lyko can’t bring herself to not wear it because it was a gift from Saladin, so she often wears a cardboard box over her helmet during her regular missions. This ridiculousness is enough to deter other Guardians away from her. 

#guardian oc talk #destiny 2 #icarus the warlock #atara-7 the titan #lyko the young wolf #long post