#vertebrae entertainment
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one of my greatest fears as a game developer is putting all of this effort into making an interesting, sexy, power fantasy of a transmasc main character only for the game to never find its audience and it to be completely forgotten
success is relative but i want trans men to know him, play as him, and feel that i made him for us
#new demo soon though. i maintain hope that my work will be seen and remembered#i love this man i want everyone to see him#fangst#vertebrae entertainment#gamedev is hard and i need to vent but not on the main blog#maybe i'll make a more refined version of this post there later#fishinc game rant
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SURPRISE! We're having another online playtest this week, going from Thursday the 17th to Tuesday 22nd of August!
We'll be testing some fun new things, so remember to join our discord community by then- and try Fangst out!
#gamedev#gamemaker#playtest#indiedev#indie game#fangst#fishing game#queer#action rpg#what do you call fish furries...#vertebrae entertainment
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A little show
Pairing: Min Yoongi x f!reader
Genre: uni au, pure smut with a dash of plot, some fluff, strangers to lovers
Word count: 9.6k
Summary: Who knew that getting off in the uni bathroom to get away from the world's most boring lecture could lead to getting absolutely railed by a cute postgrad student... but third time's the charm, right?
Warnings: slight exhibitionism, masturbation in a public bathroom, sex in a public bathroom (for once they're even using condoms lol), yoongi is a little shit but he'll rock your world, dirty talk, slight choking kink, dom-ish yoongi, who am i kidding he's a fucking beast, fingering, backshots, rough sex, some begging, biting and marking, they literally don't talk to each once before fucking
A/N: oof this was totally unplanned but i cannot be held responsible for anything after seeing the d-day concert movie, this is all yoongi's fault. also it ends surprisingly fluffy for the filth that's contained within
credit for the divider to @saradika-graphics, thank you so much <3
I blinked rapidly, trying to keep myself awake while the lecturer droned on, his nervous slightly stuttering voice carrying through the classroom and lulling everyone into a half-asleep haze. Every Tuesday I had to sit through 90 minutes of this man stumbling through every topic, trying to connect with the classroom full of people while anxiously stepping around the whiteboard projecting his presentation.
I was fully understanding, this was his first year teaching and he still hasn’t shaken off the stage fright, but that didn’t stop me from wishing I had never enrolled into this class and rather spent the time doing literally anything else. It didn’t help that it was an afternoon lecture, dragging on until 5PM, which was usually the time I was already completely fried.
I looked around, noting the other students similarly fighting off sleep or browsing internet on their notebooks, some valiantly still trying to keep their attention on the lecturer and failing miserably. I watched the girl in the row in front of me order a cute sweater, deliberating between two colours for about ten minutes before choosing strawberry pink. I approved.
My body was screaming from being bent over the desk in my boredom, back bent so crooked when I straightened out it cracked vertebra after vertebra like a xylophone from nightmares. I sighed, squirmed around, checked the time. Only 5 minutes have passed since I last looked. I barely suppressed a groan. I couldn’t sit still for longer than a minute, leaning back then pressing forward, folding and unfolding my legs, just trying to find a comfortable position to spend the next 40 minutes in and failing.
After 5 more minutes I reached a boiling point, playing with the thought of just booking it halfway through, but instead my unoccupied brain started entertaining itself by slipping into a territory that it deemed more fun. I started thinking about what I’d rather be doing, where I’d rather be, flushing slightly from embarrassment but surrendering to these thoughts as they presented at least some form of entertainment.
I made it barely 10 minutes before I was so painfully wet and aroused I definitely couldn’t make it through the lecture anymore. I had to do something about it, now.
I wasn’t shy about the fact that I occasionally enjoyed wanking in some more public spaces like bathrooms, the thrill of someone possibly coming in and having to keep quiet was getting to me. I didn’t indulge in it often, just when I got really bored and my brain immediately went to “let’s get off to entertain ourselves” instead of doing something normal like other people, just when I was sure there was only a slight chance of someone actually coming across me.
But thinking all that, I realised I’d never taken such liberty while I was in the uni building, probably just thinking about getting out of there as quickly as possible, but fuck, this lecture was getting to me. Somehow it felt more morally wrong than some other random ass places, but I deliberated on it. We were in a secluded corner of the building, it was really high and there was no elevator, the classrooms were smaller and above there was construction going on, which resulted in this place usually being totally deserted except for those unlucky souls that still had lectures here. I was pretty sure there was no other class going on here right now and the chance of someone from here going to the bathroom at the same time was slim.
On a whim I decided to take the risk, my body heating up knowing I was about to give in to the need. I quickly stood up, grabbed my phone and made my way outside. The hall was empty except for a single guy sitting by a table directly across from the bathroom door, but I figured it would be fine. He was wearing headphones anyway, head bobbing to a beat I couldn’t hear and fingers nimbly clicking something on his laptop and toying with the mouse. I slipped past him quietly and went straight for the bathroom door.
Inside was quiet, as if cut off from the outside world, the only two toilets both empty and door wide open. I went to the further one, not that it made much difference with how small the room was, but it still made me feel a little better.
With the door closed and locked for better feeling of security, the excitement finally got the better of me and I rushed to stick my hand into my skirt to pull down my tights and panties, fingers immediately finding the slick folds.
I bent over, the stall small enough to allow me to lean on my elbow on one wall while my ass pressed into the other, fingers going straight for my clit and wasting no time in pressing on it and circling it desperately. Quiet sighs of pleasure spilled from my lips, body trembling with pleasure heightened by the fact I was in a public space.
I barely even touched myself and I could already feel how fucked out I was getting, knees shaking and the pleasure mounting dangerously fast. In my mind I imagined myself bent over the toilet and a warm presence behind me, getting fucked good, strong hands gripping my waist hard, pulling me back on the cock like a toy while telling me to shut up, laughing at me while I bit my fist trying not to let the whole university know how good I was feeling.
My orgasm was approaching embarrassingly quickly, the pad of my finger furiously toying with my clit while my knees were shaking with the mounting pressure waiting to snap. I was so wet I felt my juices dripping down my thighs, dripping onto my hand and making my finger slip all the time as I tried to get myself to cum as fast as possible.
That didn’t seem to be that hard as I could already feel myself hurling towards the edge, cunt spasming around nothing, desperately wishing to be filled, as my ass pressed harder into the wall and my back arched. I could feel a little cramp starting up in my wrist, but I didn’t let up, keeping the pace on my clit as I felt the start of an intense orgasm, the sensation bursting through me like a tornado and I let out a moan muffled into the crook of my elbow. My knees buckled with the force of it and thank god that I was still leaning on the wall otherwise I would have for sure fallen down.
My whole body relaxed, thighs and knees still shaking as I tried to get my breathing back under control. The bathroom was suddenly eerily quiet now that there wasn’t blood rushing through my ears and I wasn’t blinded by my own ecstasy, and I flushed in embarrassment but still couldn’t stop myself from a little joyful giggle leaving my lips in breathless wonder.
I took my time getting myself back into order, cleaning myself up and righting my clothes again. I was in there for only about 15 minutes, so there was no reason to rush. I did notice that my legs had a little boneless swagger to them as I suddenly went from high strung in boredom to perhaps a little too relaxed, a stupid little grin pulling at my lips as I swayed my hips leisurely.
But that changed the moment I walked back out onto the hall. The second I was out of the bathroom I immediately found myself in direct eye contact with the sole student sitting out there. I only had a second to note he was very attractive before I realised he was watching me with the air of amusement, eyes darkening and a smirk forming on his lips as he leaned back and gave me a once over.
I flushed under his heavy gaze, freezing like a deer in headlights. It was obvious he knew what I’d been doing in there, something in my demeanour must have given me away. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, his eyes lingering on my hands clutched together before amused grin set onto his face.
I broke out from the daze suddenly and set into motion again, escaping his hungry eyes and entertained aura, hurriedly scurrying back into the classroom where I sat stewing in my own shame for the rest of the lecture.
When I walked back out after we were dismissed, the hall was empty, to my great relief.
“Come on, you should come tomorrow at least for a little bit,” Jungkook whined, pouting at me and hands tugging at the sleeve of my shirt. I gave him an unimpressed look, firmly resistant to his charms, which probably made me the only person in the world that was capable of that.
“I told you Kookie, I’m not feeling it this week,” I said for the fifteenth time that day, “Maybe next time.” The dance major cutely stomped his foot and tugged on my sleeve again. His wild hair flailed around with the wind, probably getting into his eyes, but he ignored it in favour of annoying me.
“But the next party won’t be for god knows how long,” he whined, giving me his ultimate puppy eyes and blinking cutely, “Come on Y/N, you need to let go a little.” Now, I would lie if I wasn’t swayed a little bit, but the exhaustion was weighing on me and I was looking forward to just having a quiet evening in ignoring all of my responsibilities and pretending I have no essays due and there aren’t any deadlines I was missing.
“I’m sorry Kook,” I softened my tone a little to convey I truly was apologetic, smiling at him gently, “I promise I will definitely go to the next party.” The man brightened and straightened out, letting go of me and setting out on the sidewalk leading out of the campus.
“I have your word! No takebacks!” he shouted excitedly and I ran after him laughing. I knew he wouldn’t let me forget it, so I just resigned myself to going to the next party even though I quite disliked them. I had nothing against partying, but I just preferred to go clubbing and dancing, not spend my evening sitting on a stained couch in someone’s living room listening to total strangers get zoinked out of their minds and talk about assignments. But I would go for Kookie. Just once though.
We walked side by side for a moment, just enjoying the awakening spring. It was still pretty cold outside, but the sun shone more often and the temperatures were enough to wear just a light jacket instead of coats with shawls, so I soaked in the atmosphere. People were beginning to filter outside, sitting around on the green grass, talking and studying, and it was nice to see.
Looking around I suddenly froze, standing still in the middle of the path while Kook continued for a few more strides before he realised I wasn’t following. He gave me a confused look, but I was already fighting an embarrassed blush and didn’t pay him much mind.
On the grass by a big tree was quite a familiar looking student, his long wavy dark hair similarly pushed around by the wind as he bobbed his head to music presumably playing in his headphones. He was wearing all black, standing out as a sore thumb in contrast with the green lit up by sun, but he was fully engrossed in his laptop and paid no attention to anything going on around him.
“Hey Kookie,” I called out to my friend, finally looking at him, “Do you know who that guy is?” I discreetly pointed in the man’s direction, hoping I wouldn’t draw anybody’s attention by being a fucking weirdo. Jungkook was a social butterfly despite his shyness and he seemed to know half the university (probably a side effect of hanging out with Jimin all the time), even people from majors that had nothing in common with his, so I was pretty confident he would be able to correctly identify the menace of my life.
“Who?” he started confusedly looking around, eyes jumping around the students just living their lives. I tried pointing again, hoping he would see where I meant without having to outstretch my arm fully. “There, that guy in the black sitting under that tree.”
Jungkook’s eyes finally locked onto his figure and a recognition immediately lit up his face. I chuckled. Of course he did know him.
“Oh sure!” he exclaimed, “that’s Yoongi hyung. He’s a little bit university famous.” I looked at him in shock and then glanced back to the expressionless man sitting on the lawn.
“Famous? Famous how?” I pressed for more info, this time it was me who way playing up the cute act, hanging onto Jungkook’s arm and batting my eyelashes at him. He gave me an amused smile, seeing right through me.
“Well, he’s handsome and yet cool and mysterious, girls love that shit,” Kook played it up, flipping his hair sassily and fluttering his lashes, making me scoff at him amusedly, “Plus he’s a rapper and sometimes performs in the local clubs and bars, so he’s pretty popular.” I turned us away from the black-clad student who was still unaware of anything going on around him and pulled us back onto the path.
“I see,” I hummed noncommittally, not giving him any indication of why I would suddenly ask about Yoongi, but based on the amused looks Kookie was giving me, he must have had an inkling why the sudden interest.
“He’s actually in the same year as Joonie hyung, they’re interning together at the same studio,” Jungkook continued, keeping his eyes on me to gauge my reaction. I hummed again, not saying anything anymore and just sending him teasing looks.
“If you come to the party tomorrow, Yoongi’s for sure gonna be there,” Kookie mentioned seemingly casually, watching me out of the corner of his eyes as he pretended he didn’t care mischievously.
I only shot him a glare and pulled on his arm, leading us out of the campus towards the café where we were supposed to meet Jimin and Tae, Kookie’s friends who graciously adopted me into the group after I got befriended by the shy giant.
For the rest of the afternoon I could feel Jungkook’s eyes on me, his lips pulled into a barely concealed smile as he fought the impulse to tease me in front of the boys about what he must have thought was an embarrassing crush on the school’s resident heartthrob. I ostentatiously ignored him, only shooting him warning glares here and there to which he always responded with shit-eating grins. Jimin and Tae kept giving us confused and entertained glances but ultimately decided against asking what was going on, much to my relief.
God, if they only knew the truth about why Yoongi even was on my radar in the first place.
The next Tuesday I walked into the classroom again, fully determined to sit through the whole lecture and not move even an inch from my seat. This time I chose a chair in the back, where I could comfortably be on my phone and distract myself from the thoughts of last week, from the attractive man and his smirks. I wondered whether he was sitting there again today, listening to what I now assumed was his own music, laid-back and effortlessly hot. I began to squirm in my seat again, but I quickly tempered it down, scolding myself gently for having such a one-track mind.
Once again I made it through an hour and with 30 minutes left, I began to face a crisis. The boredom was getting to me and I needed to use the toilet, my bladder screaming for help and making me shift around on my chair in discomfort. I thought that I couldn’t really face the bathroom without getting extremely embarrassed, but in the end I lost the battle to nature and got up.
Only, stepping onto the hall, I looked up and lo and behold, there he was – Yoongi sitting peacefully by the window and clicking away on his computer, his big black headphones firmly on as always. The movement by the door must have registered at the corner of his field of vision and he eagerly looked up.
The moment his eyes laid on my figure, frozen once again in the hallway and heating up under his stare, he smirked widely like he won the lottery, leaning back and making himself comfortable on the chair. With his gaze following my every movement I hurried into the bathroom, cheeks blushing and knees turning into jelly.
On instinct I went to the furthest stall and locked the door behind me shakily. Having taken care of my business I paced the stall nervously, already feeling myself bend under the tension. I promised myself I wouldn’t do it again, knowing Yoongi was sitting outside fully aware of the nature of my little trip last week, but his demeanour, the winning smirk and dark eyes made me want to break that promise.
Embarrassingly enough, I could already feel myself getting wet again and I begun to lose the conviction to just walk away and go sit back into the classroom for another terrible 30 minutes. The thoughts of Yoongi waiting in the hallway, hungrily watching the bathroom door and thinking about me with my hand up my skirt were getting to me and I finally broke.
Swiftly pulling down my tights and underwear I didn’t waste anymore time in sticking my fingers between my folds, gathering the wetness and rubbing the swollen bud begging for attention. I couldn’t hold back the little sighs and moans of pleasure, my body hyper-sensitive and the lust coursing through my body more intense than I could remember ever feeling.
It didn’t take long before I was choking on the moans I desperately tried to stifle on my arm, knees shaking and close to buckling and pussy clenching on nothing, feeling so empty and so desperate for anything I was losing my mind.
And if I was deliriously cumming on my fingers only a moment later while imagining Yoongi fucking me roughly in the uni bathroom, that was only my business.
With trembling fingers I quickly cleaned myself up, blushing when I realised I was so wet the whole top of my thighs was covered in my sticky juices. Putting myself back together I rushed to scrub my hands clean and soon I was standing behind the door, taking a few deep breaths but the excitement still getting the better of me and I eagerly walked out, expectantly looking for Yoongi’s reaction with a little sly smile on my face.
And I was not disappointed.
The second I stepped out, his head snapped in my direction, confirming that he really was waiting for me to come out. His cheeks were also lightly dusted with pink from excitement, his eyes as dark as midnight with his pupils blown wide with lust. He immediately licked his lips, eyes raking over my form and taking in the shaky knees and trembling hips, the blush on my face, both from recovering from an orgasm and shyness, hair a mess and lips bitten red.
Yoongi suddenly stood up and I realised that he packed up his laptop and headphones, all his stuff probably stuffed into his neat backpack that hung off of his shoulder. He side-stepped from the table and leisurely made his way towards me, black dress pants nicely hugging his form, white tee tucked into them accentuating his slim waist and a thick black oversized shirt hanging off him in a way that made me slightly feral.
But there was something else he wanted me to see, and I clocked it as soon as he got close enough, cheeks absolutely blazing red and my pussy valiantly clenching again even after such an orgasm.
He was hard. When my eyes slid down again to appreciate how the pants fit him so perfectly they landed on an unmistakable bulge, the front of his pants tenting in a tell-tale sign of how much he enjoyed my little show. I gasped and suddenly all confidence sapped from my body and I was left aroused and aching, willing to do anything. He watched me with a mix of condescension and arousal, knowing how easily he won over me and loving how receptive I was to just a light teasing, how the blush spread down to my collarbones and my mouth opened subconsciously, eyes glazing over and brain no doubt filled only with the thoughts of his cock.
But with an arrogant smirk he passed right by me, heading for the door of the men’s bathroom. Only when he was halfway through the door, he threw me a look over his shoulder, winking at me and his grin turned wild and rough. Then he disappeared inside.
I was left in the hall gasping for air, body ravaged by tension and lust and head full of images of Yoongi standing in the bathroom stall and hurriedly yanking at his cock, the red tip wet with pre-cum, the liquid getting smeared all over his length by his eager hands trying to get himself to completion as fast as possible. I imagined him grunting, head thrown back and mouth open but still curled into that annoying smirk.
A door opened somewhere a little down the hall and a mess of voices flowed out, startling me out of my reverie and I realised I had been just standing in the middle of an empty hallway staring dumbly at the bathroom door. I felt the bashfulness catch up to me and it sprung me into movement. With one last look at the door I scurried back into the class and spent the last 15 minutes staring into the wall with flaming red cheeks.
When I walked out after the class ended, Yoongi was back to his place, sitting completely relaxed into his chair and grinning lazily when his eyes caught mine. I felt my whole body jerk with a bolt of lust, but I ducked my head and quickly ran down the stairs, rushing out of the building and towards the café where the boys were already waiting for me. Jungkook stared at my flustered face with an unreadable expression, and I let him think whatever he wanted, too preoccupied with fighting the image of Yoongi cumming all over himself just twenty minutes ago thinking of me masturbating just a wall over.
Later that week, after many orgasms, much deliberating and a whole lot of shame I decided I needed to hear his voice. I kept thinking back to how Jungkook mentioned he was in the same year and major as Namjoon and that he was a performing rapper, and I knew Namjoon put his stuff online. And if Yoongi really was a known name in the bar scene around the area, he must have too.
Asking Jungkook about his stage name would be too humiliating, so instead I decided to rake through Namjoon’s insta because he must have his friend’s account there somewhere, hoping Yoongi would forgive me a little social media stalking. Firstly I scrolled through Namjoon’s posted pictures, but he rarely tagged other people. Most of his pictures were of artworks or Joonie doing something silly and living his best life.
So I switched to the pictures that others tagged you in. It took a while, but I was able to see that most of them were from this guy Hoseok that I had seen around but haven’t really spoken to. I knew he was a double major because he did dance like Jungkook and Jimin, but I had never realised he was also in the same major and year as Namjoon. He seemed to post a lot from the studio, often with Joon hunched over his computer in the background, but after some digging I was able to find one that had them all in it.
It was also from the studio, it must have been the one the boys were interning in, presumably all of them together. Hoseok’s face was grinning in one corner as he was taking the selfie and even though it was dark, you could clearly see two men sitting at a table together and discussing something with serious looks on their faces. A laptop sat between them and one of them had his hand lying on the pause button. It was Yoongi and Joon. Only their side-profile could be seen in the photo, but it was unmistakably them. The description only said “hyung is scolding joonie again” but tapping on the photo it showed that both of them had been tagged. Bingo.
Yoongi’s account was full of mostly dark pictures, some from the same studio and some were of him on stage mid performance, but there weren’t as many as Namjoon and Hoseok had on theirs. I scanned some of them quickly, but even though he looked super hot and the photos were extremely well done, it wasn’t the reason of my searching.
I checked the name of the account again – it was Agust D. And there was a link in the bio. Without thinking I clicked it and was transported to Spotify, Yoongi’s entire career laid out clearly in front of my eyes in the form of three albums.
I spent the evening listening to them, letting his music wash over me and losing myself in the beat and the lyrics. No matter what I was looking for when I wanted to listen to it, I got everything and more. I suddenly understood all those star-struck students that according to Kookie trailed hopelessly after Yoongi, the man had a real talent and an aura that just sucked you right in, like a fly getting trapped in a very smug spider’s web.
His voice was surprisingly lower and rougher than I anticipated, the songs had no shortage of him growling or screaming, emotions pouring off of his voice in waves that just swept me along.
And I couldn’t wait to find out what he sounded like when he was getting his rocks off.
The next Tuesday I climbed those 4 floors of stairs confidently, wearing a short skirt and cute heels, gingerly picking a spot in the class that would allow me to slink off in the middle of the lecture again. Yoongi wasn’t sitting in the hallway yet, but I believed he’d show up soon enough.
The anticipation was coursing through my veins, making me jittery and giggly. From the corner of my eye I could see a classmate giving me a strange look, mouthing at me if I was okay and I nodded hurriedly, giving her a smile, hoping she wouldn’t pay any attention to me when I had to leave.
If the two lectures before were unbearable, this one took the cake. I could barely contain myself, squirming in my seat, trying to make myself comfortable while I checked the time every 2 minutes, wishing half the lecture had already gone by and always getting disappointed at how early it still was.
My mind was going into overdrive, feeding me ideas and fantasies, replaying last week’s encounter on loop. I couldn’t see anything except for Yoongi’s lopsided smirk planted firmly on his face as he made his way into the bathroom to jerk off, his face as he came thinking of me.
The minutes ticked by slowly, and I was absolutely losing my mind, thighs pressing together and hands tangled into the fabric of my skirt, bunching up the material. I made it 40 minutes before I grabbed my phone and sneaked out onto the hall.
Yoongi’s head shot up immediately, already sitting by the window waiting for something. This time I didn’t freeze up, instead I was the one who smirked at him and confidently walked up straight to the bathroom. He watched me raptly, something predatory glinting in his eyes as he leaned forward on the table. Couldn’t help but notice that today he didn’t have his laptop out, he just sat there and watched me, but I moved forward not giving it much thought.
I raised my eyebrow at him and winked right as I disappeared into the bathroom, the door falling shut behind me and sealing me inside in the calm and quietness. I rushed to the furthest stall, shutting the door behind me but not bothering to lock, too horny to think clearly.
I couldn’t believe this was getting to me so much, but the moment I managed to slide my tights low enough and ran my hand through my folds, I was already so wet it was astonishing. I laughed at myself in disbelief as my finger found my clit and circled it. Who would have thought this would become my weekly routine, jerking off in the bathroom while a guy I’ve never even talked to sat outside smirking.
But not today it turned out.
Just as pleasure began coursing through me at the ministrations, pleasured sighs leaving me freely as I got cocky not getting caught until now and the squelching of my wet pussy getting played with rang through the quiet space. Then, I heard the door open.
Immediately I froze, hand stopping but still stuck between my thighs. Slow silent footsteps made their way towards the stalls and I hoped whoever this person was, they would take care of their business quickly and leave right afterwards, but they seemed to be taking this in a really leisurely manner. I was holding my breath, counting the seconds, ears straining to catch any kind of sound coming from them.
“Don’t stop on my account, kitten,” a gruff voice suddenly piped up, the footsteps stopping right outside my stall. Relief and lust rushed through me at his appearance and I couldn’t hold back a desperate whimper, the fingers on my clit going back to work. There was a chuckle behind the door and then he was pushing it open.
I must have been a sight, underwear and tights pushed under my ass, skirt bunched up around my hips, bent over with my back arched leaning on the wall as I desperately played with myself, mouth open and eyes glazed over.
Yoongi’s eyes raked over me and he hummed lowly in appreciation. He made his way in lazily, shutting and locking the door behind him before leaning on it and just watching for a moment. I tried to put on a show for him but I was truly gone, the three weeks of built up arousal carrying me high and my body racing towards the edge in record speed.
I watched him back, watched his dark hungry eyes, his tongue peeking out to wet his upper lip, the way his hands flexed by his hips, twitching with the need to grab himself. I could see his bulge clearly, the tight black jeans barely able to contain it, and I was going crazy for it. When my eyes jumped back to Yoongi’s face, he was smirking at me knowing where I’d been staring at. What I wanted.
Suddenly he pushed himself away from the door and stepped towards me. Startled I straightened out, fingers stopping once more. He descended on me hurriedly, pushing me into the wall with his body, caging me in. Our faces were suddenly only breaths apart and Yoongi took his sweet time, teasing me by getting closer and pulling away with a laugh. I whined, my clean hand coming up to tangle in his hair and he let me, watching me from above as I writhed against him, wordlessly begging for any touch from him.
Finally, he took pity on me and with a cocky grin smashed our mouths together, immediately prying my lips open and licking inside, claiming me roughly and thoroughly. I moaned into him, body arching into his and he pressed closer, pressing me into the wall again and our bodies touched from our heads to our toes. His hand went to my neck, wrapping around it lightly and grabbing my jaw to keep me still as he kissed me with all his might.
Now with both hands I grabbed onto him, one going around his neck and one around the waist, and he broke the kiss to laugh at me quietly, turning my face with his hand so he could kiss around my ear.
“You’re such a little tease, you know that kitten?” he whispered, voice gravelly with arousal, “Coming in here every week… playing with your pussy… making yourself cum… and then coming out and giving me those eyes, cheeks still flushed from your orgasm and yet playing so coy and shy… you’re such a minx.” I tensed, eyes rolling back as he started nipping at my neck, laying wet kisses and bites all over any skin he could get to.
I didn’t even notice when Yoongi’s other hand found its way between my legs, fingers roughly pressing onto my clit. I choked on a moan, head falling back and hitting the tiled wall, hands flexing into his clothes. He bit my shoulder enough to leave a mark, chuckling at my loud keening before pressing his lips to the shell of my ear again.
“Last week I thought I would go crazy sitting there,” Yoongi continued, almost growling into my skin as his fingers twisted meanly around my sensitive nub making me tremble, “I couldn’t focus on anything, not when I knew how much you wanted to give me a show. Almost went to jerk off at least five times but I held off until you came out to repay the favour.” He chuckled again, hand tightening a little on my neck as he leaned back to look at me.
I tried to get my breathing under control but I was stuck with my mouth hanging open, noises flowing out freely as if this wasn’t a public bathroom. Yoongi didn’t seem to mind though, quite happy to watch me come undone just from a little teasing.
“It was the same for me,” I whispered, looking into his eyes and this time playing coy very much on purpose, licking my lips and batting my lashes to play it up, “Had to sit through the rest of the lecture while thinking about you in here. Was hell.” He snickered darkly, immediately catching onto my act.
He hummed, finger dragging across my lower lip, fascinated for a moment before he snapped back to himself, mouth pulling back into a smirk.
Without a warning his other hand moved lower, fingers tracing my entrance before two of them plunged inside. I moaned out, body seizing up at the sensation. I was wet enough that they went easy but there was still the pleasurable sting of being stretched out on two digits.
Yoongi certainly wasn’t the type to waste time. He hummed satisfied, watching me with those dark eyes, testing the waters with a few shallow pumps before he started finger-fucking me earnestly. Just like everything else, even now he wasn’t gentle, flicking his wrist up and pushing his fingers as far as they could go, curling them to scratch at that one magic spot that had me seeing white.
I whimpered loudly, hips gyrating to ride the motions, already feeling the stirrings of a powerful orgasm lurking on the horizon. Like a shark sensing blood Yoongi chuckled and twisted his fingers on the next thrust. I keened, hands flying up to tangle into his clothes and hair, hips jerking and chasing after the feeling.
“So selfish, kitten,” he tsked at me, still keeping his cool even though I could see his erection attempting to burst through his pants, “only thinking about your own pleasure. No respect for others, huh?”
My first instinct was to apologise, but I got choked up on the words when he started up his pace again, so instead I decided to be a woman of action. Slowly trailing my hand down his torso, feeling him up on the way, grabbing onto his chest, his slim waist, until I finally reached his crotch.
With the first touch he let out a light groan, fingers stuttering and eyes falling shut for a moment, then he was suddenly back onto me, kissing me wildly while his hips fucked into my hand, letting out gruff groans and sighs into my mouth, which I accepted gladly.
For a moment we were just lost in each other, not caring about the noise or the place, just pleasuring each other, touching, feeling. Then Yoongi was tearing away, hand flying from my pussy and stepping back. I couldn’t stop the pathetic whine that left me, and my cheeks flushed with embarrassment at his amused face.
Instead he grabbed me and turned me around until I was leaning on my arms on the wall behind the toilet, one leg up on the closed lid for support. I shivered in anticipation, knowing what would come next. Yoongi was moving about behind me, clothes shuffling and rustling. Then his sweater hit the floor. I turned my head to watch just as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a silver packet. He grinned at me and winked when catching my eye, then reached out to me, condom in hand.
“Can you hold this for me for a second, darling?” he asked as sweet as honey, but there was something devilish twinkling in his eye.
“Of course,” I answered him. I meant for it to be sassy, but it came out on a breathless whisper as I took the packet and watched Yoongi’s hand run through his hair before setting on his belt. He unbuckled slowly, attentively watching my eyes soaking in every second as he pulled the belt through the buckle and out of his pants. Fingers toyed with the button before popping it open, tongue wetting his lips and hungry eyes eating me up. I trembled under his attention but held still, not even breathing as his fingers grasped at the zipper and pulled it down.
Tired of playing, he pulled his tee out and put the hem between his teeth, revealing his taunt stomach and pretty waist. Winking at my obvious gawking, he finally pulled his jeans and underwear down, his erection springing free. The sight of him shocked me to my core, standing there with his t-shirt in his mouth and a smug glint his eye while he leisurely fisted his flushed red cock. I could feel my pussy gushing and clenching around nothing, desperately calling to be filled up.
Yoongi plucked the condom packet from my limp hand and made a quick work of putting it on. He lined up behind me, hands finding my waist to pull my tee from the skirt, making contact with bare skin.
I gasped when I felt his cock slide through my wet folds, but quickly keened and arched into it. One of Yoongi’s hands tightened on my waist while the other disappeared to grab his length.
“Easy now,” he chuckled at my trembling body, my hips chasing after his cock and trying to entice him into fucking me.
“Please,” was all I could get out of my mouth, “please Yoongi, just fuck me.” His hand tightened again and there was a beat of silence before he snickered.
“So you naughty girl do know my name,” he teased and I froze for a moment, embarrassment flooding me. I turned to him again to see him smirking at me, tee hanging off of his form. “I heard it around,” I whispered sheepishly. He hummed, raising his eyebrows at me.
“Not really fair, is it?” he teased some more, a mischievous expression taking over his face, “Is it, Y/N?” I narrowed my eyes at him jokingly and he grinned.
“Now, what’s your excuse, mister?” I asked him sassily, “Not like I’m a campus celebrity… unlike someone here.”
“May or may not have asked Jungkook cause I saw you two hanging out,” Yoongi admitted easily, laughing at me when I paled.
“God,” I groaned, “No wonder he was getting so cheeky whenever you came up in a conversation.” At that Yoongi raised his eyebrow again, amusement dancing on his features.
“That happen often?” he asked impishly, leaning against me and once again letting me feel his cock sliding through my folds. I gasped a little and blushed even darker. “You’re Namjoon’s friend, so occasionally,” I bold-faced lied straight through my teeth and from the look on Yoongi’s face, he was aware but let me get away with it.
There was a moment of silence where we just stared at each other, mischievous little smiles on our faces, and then Yoongi hummed, pulling his tee back up to his lips and biting down on it. I shuddered, the lust once again taking the fore-front seat in my mind. This time he didn’t stop for anything, grabbing himself with one hand and the other going to my waist to hold me in place.
The tip of his cock circled my entrance and I subconsciously clenched, a gush of wetness leaving me. I whined and wriggled in his hold and he tsked at me again before sliding inside in a single thrust with a light condescending giggle. I groaned, pussy immediately squeezing around the intrusion, feeling every inch and ridge. There was a hitch in Yoongi’s breaths, both hands migrating to my waist and grabbing so tightly I felt his nails digging into my skin.
He barely gave me a second before pulling out and thrusting in again, setting a rough pace from the get-go. All I could do was bury my head into the crook of my elbow, biting into the soft flesh there to keep myself from moaning loud enough for the whole school to hear.
The stretch of his cock was exquisite, the slight burn heating up my already sensitive body to a near boiling point. With every thrust there was a tiny twinge of pain that left me breathless, desperate to muffle any noise that could cut our meeting short.
Yoongi didn’t seem to care much about noise, hands on my waist mercilessly pulling me back onto his cock and fucking me with so much force I felt my whole body twitching with the overdrive of sensation, the slapping of our sweaty bodies against each other and the wet squelch of my weeping pussy getting filled to the brim loud enough to substitute for our own sounds. He was grunting gruffly, the noise seemingly leaving his mouth involuntarily and getting muffled by the tee.
I turned my head slightly to look at him, and god, he was a vision with his head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut and face the picture of ecstasy, body rippling with the motion of his pumping hips and strong veiny arms and hands gripping onto me hard enough to go red with the force. I couldn’t hold back the moan and he toppled his head forward to look at me, a tired self-satisfied smirk tugging at his lips at seeing my fucked out expression.
“Take your fucking shirt off,” I gasped out breathlessly, chuckling at his teasingly narrowed eyes, “You have such a dirty fucking mouth, can’t stand for it being shut.” Yoongi laughed, throwing his head back in delight. Within seconds the piece of fabric joined his sweater on the floor and he leaned forward, hands picking on my own shirt with a mischievous expression.
“Shouldn’t you even the score?” I loved how deep and gravelly his voice became with arousal, even when he was being mischievous I could hear the growl in it and it drove me crazy. I scrambled to listen to him, tearing the shirt off and flinging it behind us. Yoongi’s hands immediately travelled up, playing with the edge of my bra before swiftly undoing the clasp and dragging it off. I gasped lightly at his skilled handiwork and giggled, but Yoongi was already preoccupied with kissing along my shoulders and shoulder blades.
His hips angled better and then jerked them into me again, cock sliding even deeper now. I groaned and arched into him and that was his que to start fucking in earnest again. In this position I could hear the strained sighs and grunts every time he slid back inside, the rough deep pace taking a toll on us both.
The back of my thighs was burning from standing bent over and straining my hips for this long and it added to the mix of feelings running through me. I could feel my orgasm catching up with me, Yoongi’s cock now hitting a spot on every thrust that made me want to scream with pleasure, sliding in so deep I swore I could feel him in my belly and it was so good my head was spinning, and all that came out of me were raspy moans. Yoongi bit into my shoulder, grunts raising in octave, hands pulling at my body to meet his thrusts.
I prayed to god that the walls were thick enough to keep the sounds from escaping onto the hall. I knew that if someone stepped inside now, there would be no masking what was going on, we were both too gone for that, just chasing our pleasure.
I was so close, the weeks of build up and the foreplay and teasing making me delirious. There in that moment I just wished I could stay like this forever, to feel this delicious ecstasy for the rest of my life, but I was so close to snapping I just needed a little extra push even though my head was so high in the clouds wishing to be never brought down.
“Please Yoongi, god,” I choked out, “please, I’m so close.” That seemed to snap Yoongi back into his attitude again, but he couldn’t hide how affected he was too.
“What do you want, kitten, mm?” even he couldn’t talk properly through the gasps and grunts, but still tried to sound as cocky as possible. Instead of talking I grabbed his hand and brought it down between my legs.
Yoongi pressed himself to me closer to make the reach more comfortable, his chest glued to my back as he nibbled on my neck and shoulder, giggling breathlessly when his naughty fingers started drawing tight quick circles on my clit.
My moans got louder, the pumping of his cock, hitting so deep inside of me, combined with the stimulation on my clit made me seize up, whole body shaking as the pleasure overtook me. Yoongi groaned every time my pussy clenched around him, drawing him deeper and closer to his own end. Both of us were so sweaty we stuck to each other, the temperature in the stall rising so high it was almost unbearable.
“Yoongi,” I gasped out, just repeating his name breathlessly as I barrelled to the climax, feeling the beginning of the tingling washing over me, pussy seizing up. Yoongi’s hands were like vice on my body, my waist littered with red indents of his nails, some already purpling slightly.
“I know, kitten,” he whispered into my neck, “Me too, you can let go.” The moment those words left his mouth my orgasm exploded over me, enough to blind me and send my ears ringing for a few moments. I let out a raspy groan, hands scrambling to find purchase on the wall and if it wasn’t for Yoongi’s hold on me, my buckling knees would have sent me crashing to the floor, but all I could focus on was the euphoria blooming through my body, flooding all my senses with so much pleasure I could barely fully register anything that was going on. Yoongi fucked me through the peak, hips losing rhythm and all decorum until finally he gave last few hard pumps and stilled too, coming with a drawn-out moan, hands pushing our hips as close together as they could go.
We clung onto each other as we attempted to catch our breaths again. I felt my arms slipping on the tiles as the pleasant ache started setting into my hips and lower tummy, legs screaming for a reprieve as my brain slowly came back into function. I blinked my eyes open, not even realising I had closed them at some point. Yoongi was basically hugging me from the behind, draped over me just breathing deep, faced smushed into my shoulder blade. Then he chuckled.
“You think we’re still in the clear?” he laughed, “How thick do you think these walls are?” A giggle tumbled out of me and before I knew it we were both laughing breathlessly, bodies still pressed close.
“This is officially the craziest thing I’ve ever done,” I told him, shaky knees trying to keep my weight as I started to gather my wits. Yoongi let me go easily and helped me find my balance as my whole body ached, back killing me after Yoongi railed me like a madman.
“And here I was, thinking this was just regular Tuesday for you.”
I slapped his shoulder lightly, but the blush on my cheeks revealed that I couldn’t really say anything to that. His amused snickers told me he was well aware, so I just stood there and watched him slip the condom off, tie it up and then just awkwardly stand there not knowing what to do with it.
“Guess I can’t just casually drop a used condom into a bin in the girl’s bathroom,” he stated nonchalantly, and I giggled at him. In the end he grabbed a bunch of toilet paper and hid it inside, putting in on the closed bin lid for the moment.
Next Yoongi swiftly cleaned himself up and pulled his jeans back on, but when I reached for the paper to do the same, he swatted my hand away. With a much gentler smile he got it himself, kneeled in front of me and started cleaning me up, gently wiping away the mess left on my centre and thighs. I watched him attentively, the soft look on his face making him look boyish, only the naughty glint in his eyes reminiscent of the man he was just a few minutes ago.
When our eyes met, I returned the smile, hand instinctively going to tangle into his hair. I meant to just card it through the dark wavy locks, but the heated look he gave me had me shuddering again, fingers tightening. Yoongi smirked, tongue licking at his lips sensually just inches away from my exposed pussy.
“Still thinking about naughty things, kitten?” he said, voice dark and deep, “Like the sight of me on my knees for you?” I hesitated for a moment before untangling my hand and gently pushing him with a blush.
“I see,” Yoongi hummed thoughtfully, “maybe next time then.” With a wink he stood up and when I didn’t move he motioned for me to start dressing up with a smirk, handing me my bra and t-shirt. We slowly clambered out of the stall, stretching and trying to get all the body parts to working order again.
“How about,” Yoongi drawled out, self-assured and with the attitude of someone who just got their rocks off, “you ditch the lecture you never really go to anyway and we grab something to eat?” I stopped in my tracks, shocked but pleasantly surprised at his offer. I checked the time quickly.
“There’s only like 10 minutes of class left, I can sit that out and then we can go,” I answered, smiling softly, but Yoongi smirked with all his might, something devilish glinting over his face. He leaned towards me, grabbing me lightly by my shoulders.
“Not looking like that, you can’t,” he whispered meanly and spun me around. The moment I laid my eyes on myself in the mirror, I gasped. Yoongi was standing behind me grinning like the devil admiring his handiwork. My neck was littered in little bites and spots ranging from dark pink across red all the way to purple. Yoongi let out a satisfied hum, almost sounding like a purr, his hands going across my waist to pull at the tee tucked into my skirt to reveal more reddish purplish bruises from his fingers.
I turned in his arms and slapped his shoulder lightly, completely flustered by his antics. “How can I walk out of here now? Everyone will know what I’d been doing instead of sitting at the lecture,” I whined, more embarrassed than angry, but Yoongi’s laughing face was totally free of any remorse, “I look like someone beat me up.”
The man said nothing, just pulled me closer to kiss me gently. I looked at him with wide eyes for a moment before I whined again: “I don’t even have a scarf with me today.” He burst out laughing and patted my hip softly.
“I’ll get your stuff, you wait here,” he whispered conspiratorially and with one last wink he was gone. It took him only three minutes to stick his head back into the bathroom, looking a little ruffled and a lot amused.
“I suggest we get going fast, I’m afraid a guy leaving the ladies restroom isn’t as inconspicuous as I wished it was,” he got out quickly, smirking impishly and handing me my coat. I tried to wear it in a way that covered most of the marks, but it was futile, more than half of my neck still on full display.
I walked out of the bathroom the same moment the door to my classroom opened and students started filing out. Yoongi exchanged a single glance with me before we both took off, running down the stairs like we were being chased, only stopping once the building doors slammed shut behind us.
“Jimin’s café?” Yoongi asked breathlessly, still trying to get his strength back and leaning on his knees. I grinned at him and grabbed his hand, already pulling him in the right direction.
“Sure, let’s go!”
Bonus:
“Holy shit! The fuck happened to you?” Jimin exclaimed loudly enough for the whole café to hear the moment he saw me walk through the door. Jungkook and Tae, who were sitting at a small table near the counter to keep Jimin company while he had his shift, turned to look at me only for Kookie to promptly spit out whatever he was drinking.
“Holy shit!” I gave him an unimpressed look and walked up to Jimin to order.
“A little dramatic, don’t you think?” I side-eyed him sassily, but Jungkook was grinning mischievously, a knowing glint in his eye. I flushed under his gaze and looked away at which he started laughing loudly.
“Oh my god! I can’t believe you actually did it,” he giggled, properly entertained by the situation and by my embarrassment. Tae was watching it all unfold, confused look on his face.
“Did what?” Jimin asked, similarly confused.
As if on cue the door opened again and Yoongi stepped in, ignoring everyone currently staring at him and walking straight to me, arm curling around my waist to pull me closer to him. He bent down slightly to whisper in my ear: “Got rid of the evidence successfully.”
“Holy shit!” This time it was Tae who screamed, coming full circle. I gave their smug smiling faces an annoyed glare and turned to Jimin to order again, but he was trying to conceal his grin behind his hand. Even more vexed I turned to Yoongi who was smirking smugly like a cat who got all the cream, hand possessively squeezing at my bruised waist.
“On second thoughts, we shouldn’t have come here,” I said to no one in particular, then turning my narrowed eyes at the man of the hour himself, “and wipe that smirk off your face, mister.” There were giggles from the boys all around us, but Yoongi just swooped down and kissed me softly, then pushed us closer towards the counter.
Jimin cleared his throat and tried to put on a professional expression, but there was mirth in his eyes that I just knew I was going to get all the teasing later. Tae and Kookie cleared out the mess at the table and made space for us to sit down, one looking more amused than the other.
I gave them both the stink eye and ignored them, checking my phone instead, trying to reply to all the messages I’ve missed in the last hour. Around me there was silence, everyone just sitting there looking at each other grinning, before Jungkook cleaned his throat and exclaimed:
“God, fucking finally! Thought Yoongi-hyung was gonna talk my ear off about you!”
“Kookie!” There was a pretty blush spreading on Yoongi’s cheeks, a polar opposite to the cocksure man that was railing my brains out 20 minutes ago. I giggled and squeezed his arm. He gave in easily, leaning towards me.
Then he set his eyes on Jungkook and narrowed them teasingly. “We’re gonna settle that later you brat.”
#kpop fic#kpop smut#kpop fluff#bts fic#bts smut#bts fluff#bts x reader#yoongi smut#yoongi fluff#yoongi x reader#suga fic#yoongi fic#suga smut#suga fluff#suga x reader
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'The Love Shack'
Epilogue - Silwey's Reaction
Relationship: Neteyam(23) x fem!Omatikaya reader(21)
Series warnings: 18+ MDNI
Word count: 1,563
Read the entire completed series in my masterlist HERE
Author's Note:
Because so many of you asked - here is a little epilogue drabble with Silwey's reaction to the news of Neteyam & Neyomi's betrothal. 😁 It's short and simple entertainment with a little bit of fluff at the end. I hope ya'll find this satisfying, enjoy!
***~~~***
Neteyam watched as the last of the wagons, laden with their kills, was carted off to the clan’s cooks and butchers. The hunters had triumphed again today and the butchers would be kept busy for the next day skinning, carving and preserving the meat from their very successful hunt. As with most jobs that his hunter-warrior profession demanded, success often brought with it tired and aching muscles at the day’s end, as well as skin caked in the natural grime of sweat and dirt.
Rolling his neck and stretching it from side to side, he heard the vertebrae in his neck give a few satisfying pops. His skin felt clammy and itchy from the drying mud in places and he couldn’t wait to settle into the hot spring with you later for some rest and relaxation. He caught sight of you warming down with your hunting platoon off to his left in the near distance. Your stance was confident and you effortlessly commanded the attention of your platoon while you debriefed them for the day. He smiled to himself. You were so beautiful and so capable. It made him proud to have you at his side.
As your commanding officer, he outranked you and you reported to him in all things work during the day, but at night, he was completely at your mercy. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to have your body against his, over him, under him and around him. It had been a blissful week since the night you’d confronted each other and admitted your faults, since you’d made love to each other and pledged yourselves as each other’s intendeds. The news was still formally under wraps, but the tsahìk would be making a formal announcement and performing a blessing on you both on the clan’s next day of rest, which was in two days.
Betrothal aside, you’d both agreed that things would not change work-wise. There would be no biases and there would be no public displays of affection; work was work. Given the good amount of ‘practise’ you’d both had in the last three moons in the lead up to the present, pretending there was nothing going on and ignoring the personal turmoil you’d both been stubbornly suffering, keeping things professional was a piece of cake.
A few of the men from Neteyam’s platoon yauped in farewell, waving at him as they departed for the day. One of them, Entu, called out as they passed, “It’s good to have you back, bro! The olo’eyktan really made us work for our meals the other day!”
Neteyam’s deep laugh rang out and he fixed the young warrior with a mocking grin, “Are you saying I’m too soft on all of you?”
“No, but you’re more reasonable. At least I can still feel my legs today!”
“Good work today, boys! Kìyevame (see you again soon)!” Neteyam called in return, stooping to scoop his woven satchel from the foot of the rock he’d left it against. He slung the satchel across his shoulders and spied a pair of slender feet and legs approaching him in his peripheral vision. They strolled into view as he straightened up and he was greeted by a lovely face, just not the one he expected.
“I’m glad you’re back too.” Silwey’s voice was sweet as it usually was when she wanted to endear herself to him. She flashed him an alluring smile and cocked her head to the side, peering up at him through playful eyes.
“Why? Your legs less sore today too, are they?” Neteyam remarked, adjusting the strap of his satchel across his front.
Silwey’s chuckle bubbled melodiously up her throat and her expression turned frisky, “Not sore, no. My legs are good today, good enough that they’d be keen to take a ride later if you catch my meaning.”
Oh, her meaning was clear.
The insinuation of the sensual ride she had in mind was made even more unambiguous when she reached out with a bold hand to curl her fingers into the top edge of his cummerbund to pull him closer.
Neteyam stopped her with a gentle hand around her wrist, “Look, this needs to stop-���
“I was disappointed when you didn’t come back to me the other night after your family emergency.” Silwey interrupted, stepping up to him and eyeing him coquettishly, “And then when you didn’t show up for patrol the next day, I was worried.”
“Worried for my wellbeing?” Neteyam pursed his lips, his patience beginning to wear thin as Silwey ran her other hand up the smooth muscle of one his pectorals despite his earlier attempt at a rebuff.
“Mm yes, and also worried that I wouldn’t get another taste of you.” Silwey said in a sultry purr and she swiped a daring finger against his chest before lifting it to her mouth to suck it clean.
Neteyam grasped both of her hands and removed them from his person, not unkindly but firmly enough to get his point across, “Please stop. Look, you’re a beautiful woman and I enjoyed your company, but I’m spoken for now and this behaviour needs to stop. Anything more after this and you’ll be breaking the bounds of propriety.”
Silwey retreated in surprise, pulling her hands from his hold, “Spoken for? You’re betrothed?”
“Yes.”
She gave a caustic laugh then, still reeling from her shock, “That’s a surprise, considering you were perfectly willing just last week to spend your time in my company before your brother abruptly called you away.”
Neteyam scratched the back of his head uncomfortably, trying to find a way to explain the situation without too much detail, “It’s a fairly recent development, but entirely genuine. The tsahìk will make an announcement in two days. I’d appreciate your confidentiality around the matter in the meantime.”
“Oh now Neteyam, you can’t just leave it at that.” Silwey wheedled, her irritation bleeding into her tone despite her attempt to come off as casual, “Who is this lucky woman?”
Before Neteyam could respond with another dismissive excuse, the sound of a gently cleared throat came from behind him and he turned his head to find you standing there. Meeting your eyes, he grinned warmly at you. Speak of the devil.
“Sorry Neteyam, a word?” You interposed, shooting a half-hearted smile of apology at the other woman.
Silwey was less than welcoming of your interjection. Her plump lips tightened sternly and she huffed at you, “You know, these interruptions of yours are becoming a rather untimely habit. I was having an important discussion with Neteyam.”
In truth you’d overheard the bit of their conversation prior to your interruption, but you feigned innocence nonetheless, “Oh, sorry. Was it about today’s hunt?”
Silwey’s initial expression was one of annoyance that you were nosy enough to pry, but then her countenance turned cunning and she graced Neteyam with a sly look before declaring, “No, actually. Neteyam has just shared with me his happy news of being recently betrothed. He was just about to tell me who she is.” She sneered at him, clearly thinking she was being clever for having outed his secret, “Come on, tell us. I’m sure Neyomi would like to know too.”
Ordinarily, Neteyam would have growled out a warning at Silwey’s nerve, but he simply smirked at her today.
Reaching out to lace the fingers of one of his hands with yours, Neteyam pulled you to his side and planted a lingering kiss to your temple, before responding to Silwey, “Well, since you asked, you’re looking at her.”
Silwey’s eyes darted between Neteyam and you, her large golden eyes widening a fraction as realisation set in. Her mouth popped open next and she sucked in a stunned breath, sputtering, “O-Oh! Ah, congratulations t-to you b-both. Have a good evening, I’ll see you around.”
You had to press your lips together hard to keep yourself from laughing. Silwey’s retreat was clumsy and her embarrassment was apparent. It was the most inelegant you’d ever seen her, considering she was normally incredibly self-assured.
“Guess our secret’s out.” You remarked to Neteyam, “You know, she’s not going to keep it to herself.”
“I don’t think there’s any point.” Neteyam observed.
Silwey had withdrawn hastily to a small group of warrior women who appeared to have been watching on with equally wide eyes at the entire exchange. They were muttering amongst themselves now, Silwey in the middle, with raised eyebrows and gesturing hands.
“Shall we give them a bit of a show?” You suggested puckishly, looking up at Neteyam who was already leaning down towards you.
“First, you make me commit sacrilege under my parents’ roof and now you’re breaking clan protocol before the tsahìk’s announcement.” Neteyam’s warm lips moulded to yours and you instinctively looped an arm about his neck to draw yourself closure. His tongue swept against yours and you opened your mouth to allow him to deepen the kiss, completely uncaring of your public audience. He separated from you with a sucking pop, “I wonder if my family realises how much of a rule-breaker you are.”
“Your mother broke all the rules. She became a warrior, abandoned her duty to be tsahìk and mated your father.”
Neteyam chortled at your quick quip, his quiet laughter rumbling against your lips, “And it appears I am my father’s son, with the same taste for rule-breaking warrior women.”
***~~~***
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Pairing: Yandere!Alastor x Fem!Reader
SFW
Word Count: 1'882
Warnings: Yandere, Abuse, Abusive relationship, Choking, Degradation, Manhandling, Threats, Possessiveness, Alastor is a massive asshole and mean as shit. Dead Dove Do Not Eat
Hindsight was always 20/20.
A bit of an understatement, really. Looking back it was hard to believe just how much one decision could impact your entire afterlife, and you wanted to kick yourself.
Desperation was the excuse you gave yourself whenever you thought about why you made a deal with Alastor.
What he proposed wasn’t something you thought too much of at the time. In exchange for your soul, he offered you security - solidarity in a realm where most were keen on focusing on the weakest among them and tearing them to shreds. Not only would you be protected on a daily basis, but you had, essentially, a guarantee that you would survive extermination day whenever it inevitably rolled around.
Seemed almost too good to be true, but knowing the risks involved in refusing, you had accepted.
He never asked much of you in return, much to your surprise. Nothing that ever seemed too unreasonable, at least. If anything, the things he asked of you felt more like exchanges that would occur between friends - taking on small tasks he’d otherwise find too boring to entertain.
Sometimes you’d even go as far as to call them domestic.
Oh, but you knew better than to assume your relationship fell anywhere close to friendship. Amicable was a better word, not good nor bad, but certainly nothing to be overtly confident about - which made what you intended to ask so much worse.
The very thought of it made a shiver go through your body as you walked through the Hotel hallway. A voice in the back of your mind, your conscience perhaps, whispered that it wasn’t too late to turn back. To do a complete 180 and march right back the way you came.
You didn’t listen.
By the time you came to a stop, the hairs on your arms stood completely on end. The door in front of you looked exactly like the others that lined the hallway, deceptive in its mundane simplicity. It only made the feeling of foreboding that much worse as you held your breath and raised your hand to knock, knuckles barely grazing the polished wood at first but connecting more solidly the second time around.
A part of you prayed there wouldn’t be an answer, nails digging further into your palms as the silence extended onwards.
Please don’t answer, please don’t answer-
All hopes were dashed by the dark wood swinging open to reveal a wall of red.
Alastor bent slightly at the waist when greeting you, bringing his eye level slightly down to yours, “My, my, what a pleasant surprise this is!~”
The smile you could muster in response didn’t even come close to matching his own, and your greeting not nearly as jovial.
“Hi.” You said, pausing briefly between words. “I was wondering if you had a few minutes?”
The signature clicking of his vertebrae accompanied the tilt of his head as he stared down at you intrigued. “Whatever for?~”
You began to pick at your nail beds. “Just to talk.”
Alastor hummed, amusement dancing behind his eyes before he opened the door to his suite a little bit wider.
“Oh, I suppose I could spare a moment or two for somebody like you.~”
The way he said it made you unsure whether such a statement was a compliment or an insult, but regardless you followed him inside.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you…” You began to say, looking around the space. No matter how many times you’d been inside, you’d never get used to it.
“Not at all, sweetheart!~” His arm came around your shoulders, leading you further into his suite and towards the table he had set up in the swampland that seamlessly blended in with the decor.
With a flash of green another chair appeared beside his own, and he gestured towards it with the end of his microphone staff.
“Have a seat.~”
You complied, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you did so. Foolishly, you had hoped to stay standing for this conversation in order to keep it as brief as possible. The cool metal of the chair dug into the skin of your thighs despite your clothing and you found yourself staring at the tabletop rather than at Alastor himself.
“Now,” There was some rustling of paper as Alastor picked a newspaper back up off the table, half paying attention to you when he spoke. “What can I do for you, my dear?”
This was it. No going back, no cutting corners, better to rip the bandaid off than to beat around the bush.
You bit your cheek harder and you could already taste the blood on your tongue before you opened your mouth.
“I want out.”
Alastor barely looked in your direction, but the subtle twitch of his ear was hard to miss once you spoke.
“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow but never took his eyes off the paper in his lap as he turned the page. “Care to elaborate?”
“Our deal.” The words felt thick when you spoke them. Heavy. “I want my soul back.”
Alastor’s pause made the atmosphere feel nothing short of dreadful as he turned his head to look at you directly. His ever-present smile widened while his eyes narrowed.
“Now what makes you think you deserve that, sweetheart?~”
“It isn’t about deserving anything.” You stated, trying to keep your voice as even as possible. “It’s… renegotiating.”
Alastor snickered, the sound accompanied by a pre-recorded laugh track.
“Well, aren’t you simply adorable?” He placed the newspaper off to the side and rapped his claws against the table. “Unfortunately for you, that’s not how deals work.”
Your hands curled into fists in your lap as he continued speaking.
“While the deal we made was a fairly simple one, the end result is the same.” He crossed his legs and leaned back in his seat. “I own your soul. There aren’t any take-backsies on the matter.”
Nails bit into your palm at the syrupy condescension in his voice. It made anger brim in your chest, but acting on emotion was not a smart move here.
You took a deep breath. “Our deal has run its course, though.” You did your best to ignore how his eyes narrowed further at that. “Now that I’m at the Hotel… it offers what you originally did, so your part of the bargain is no longer necessary.”
His eyes flashed, glowing a brighter red and illuminating the space between the two of you for a moment.
“Ah, I see. You think our deal is now void because I’ve been replaced in a sense.” His smile was anything but reassuring or kind. “And therefore you shouldn’t be expected to uphold your end of the bargain, am I correct?~”
You swallowed thickly. “Yes.”
Alastor tutted. “My dear, who are you to get to decide when our deal is void in any way, shape, or form?”
The question was clearly rhetorical, but you answered anyway.
“Because it’s my soul.” The firmness in your voice did little to cover how weak of an answer that truly was. “I should be able to get a say in when we’ve reached the end of our contract-”
A green flash and the cold snap of metal around your neck cut off any further words you had to say. You barely had any time to register your air getting cut off as you were yanked forward harshly into the dirt - leaving you coughing when the chain slackened enough for you to breathe once more.
“It seems to me that you are forgetting a few things, darling,” Alastor said, pulling sharply on the chain once more to force your face back up to his.
Green stitches lined the seams of his clothes and wove at the edges of his smile - antlers growing with each word he spoke, and it took every bit of courage you had to bite back a whimper.
He was pissed.
“Firstly, the Hotel,” He cooed sweetly,” is the sanctuary you rave it to be because I keep it that way.”
Alastor stood from his chair and stalked towards you, wrapping the end of the chain around his microphone as he went.
“Secondly, might I remind you that it was you who approached me.” He hissed, faux kindness mixing with the barely contained anger you could see in his eyes.
“You,” He nudged your chin with the end of his microphone, “ came to me with the proposal of offering yourself in exchange for my services, not the other way around.” His eyes scanned over your form - lingering on the way your chest moved rapidly to accommodate your breaths before returning to your face.
“I've grown... accustomed to you, my dear, and our deal stands until I say so. Since you are seemingly incapable of understanding the subtleties of that, I’ll put it in simple terms so you can understand.”
The cool metal of your collar was soon replaced with the warm, smooth texture of his glove as he kneeled in the dirt and wrapped his hand around your neck. The gesture made you gasp, reflexively drawing in as much air as possible before he could choke you, but Alastor didn’t squeeze. Instead, he let the weight of his hand do the work.
“I own you. Every breath you take, every little thought in that empty head of yours belongs completely and solely to me.”
The black of his gums peeked out as his smile - which felt more akin to a snarl - widened. “Besides, what would you even do if I gave your soul back?”
Another rhetorical question, but the humiliation and inequity of the situation caused you to answer once more despite everything inside screaming at you not to.
“That’s my business.”
The sheer volume of emotion that passed through Alastor’s eyes told you that was the wrong fucking answer to give.
He snickered and leaned closer to the point you could smell the rot of his breath. “See, you might think that, darling, but since you’re mine, it’s my business too. So here’s how this is going to go.”
The hand around your throat began to squeeze.
“My business is to keep you. You’ll keep doing each and every little thing I ask of you, and you certainly won’t voice complaint when doing so.”
You choked and sputtered again when he hauled you to your feet by your throat and pushed you back into your seat - the armrests catching you directly in the funny bone, causing you to yelp. He placed his hands on either side of you and leered over you. It was the smallest you’d ever felt in your life.
“I’m more than willing to speak to you about anything you wish, darling, I truly am.” He said, inhaling deeply before continuing, and you swore his smile dropped the most you’d ever seen it.
“But if you ever try to speak to me about this again, you’ll learn just how easy you have it with me, is that clear?”
You felt yourself nodding before your mind could even register it. “C-crystal.”
A mixture of relief and dread sunk in your stomach when his smile returned to its normal state and he reached his hand up to pat you twice on the head.
“That’s my girl.~”
© absolute-flaming-trash 2024. Do not repost, modify, copy, or claim.
#riri writes#Alastor#Hazbin Hotel#Hazbin Alastor#Yandere!Alastor#Alastor x Reader#The Radio Demon#The Radio Demon x Reader#tw yandere#tw abuse#tw abusive relationship#tw choking#tw degradation#tw manhandling#tw threats#dead dove do not eat#tw possessiveness
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Genshin - Argument pt2
Characters: Diluc, Ch*lde, Dainsleif
Genre: angst, hurt/comfort
Synopsis: You walked out after an argument and the guys are a mess
Warnings: cursing, mentions of assault, mugging, car crash and murder/kidnapping, ch*lde content, no HCs for this one sorry😔 Can be read as a stand alone but it may be confusing, refer to part one for a full experience. (Argument, genshin 2)
A/N: can you tell i rushed the fuck out of this after realizing how long it’s been since this was requested? This is not my best writing I have to admit my heat wasn’t in it for some reason and I’ve been super busy. I was hit by some old man in a sudan a few weeks ago and I only recently healed so I just finished. Enjoy
___
Diluc
Diluc ripped the blazer pulled taut around his strong torso off and discarded it haphazardly on the floor below. The material clacked together and landed with a dull thud with its weight in front of the fire. He stood, ripping his gloves off of his hands and loosening the shirt constricting his airway.
He hadn’t experienced true panic in a long time but the thought that you were most absolutely pissed off with him gave him chills that ran violently through the vertebrae of his spine. The fact that you up and left, intensified those chills. He was unsure whether you would be back tonight, next week or ever at all, but even considering entertaining the idea of you never returning to him made his blood boil beneath his veins despite his years upon long years of steeling himself and building walls up around himself. In his mind, you could do no wrong and if his dear lover had deemed it necessary to leave the house because something he said that had stung so badly, it must have been true that he deserved it.
Ripping the leather gloves from his hands, his skin crawled at the image of your back facing him. At the idea that you were somewhere he couldn’t find you and that you could have been in immense danger. At the sour, fist clenching reminder that despite the long hours of search he conducted for you, it proved inadequate, Diluc slammed his hands aggressively against the nearby ebony console stand. In one swift, yet piercingly angry motion, Diluc had belted every set of papers, folder, candle and any other item on the surface, to the floor. The crimson seeping from his hand did not cease for a moment and instead smeared against the wood of the console stand. The fire wielder dragged a hand through his unruly red hair and found that the knots building in his locks had become out of control. The hair tie used to keep his hair from his face was proving inadequate after so many hours of running and panicking.
Finally, after nearly ten minutes of trashing his office and then another 30 spent roaming the winery aimlessly in search of the strongest liquor he had and knocking down anything in his way, Diluc sat down at his couch. With his messy thoughts and scrambled heart, the building was left in total shambles.
The fire in front of him was dimming, the numbness and amnesia it’s bright light and the buzz from the alcohol he managed to dig up gave him, at once began to fade. Luckily, with his worried heart and a pounding headache, the world favored Diluc and allowed him to find sleep. Though his rest was all but pleasant, Diluc awoke a much more sane man. His irrationality from the previous night of delirium had worn off and he was ready to ask around for you. Call in as many favors as he needed.
Against his plans and his wishes, before the redhead could manage to sit up, an aggressive, dull pounding emerged beneath the skin of his forehead. He fell immediately back onto the couch, gripping his head, skin wrinkled with pain. For a moment, Ragnvindr did not attempt to so much as open his eyes again until he was sure he wouldn’t fall on his ass or vomit the second he watched the world spin. What woke him, albeit the pain all over his body and the protests his muscles screamed at him, was the sound of the doors to the winery opening.
Had he lost his mind?
Diluc must have lost his mind.
The maids and butlers wouldn’t be here for another hour or two and the building, still, was a mess. To say the least. He shot up from his seat, praying that when he turned to the door, he would find a servant that arrived early, rather than a customer.
Not only were his expectations not met, but they were far, far exceeded at the same time. Instead, Diluc found himself staring at you as you gaped at the mess burdening the building. Your jaw all but dropped, wide eyes staring at the shattered glass of a vase he swore he liked when you asked him, papers and an old telephone from an antiques store you two visited in your free time left forgotten on the floor. Everywhere. Looking up, you noted that Diluc himself, had been mirroring his panicked mind in the state of his winery. His hair was ruffled and knotted, clothes from the night prior still glued to his body.
“Diluc what the hell happened!? Did someone break in!?” You shouted, kneeling in front of a flower vase nearby and lifting it back into place. You liked that one, thankfully it was intact. A painting of you two in your 2 year long honeymoon phase was tilted on the wall. “I leave for five minutes, Diluc!! What happened to you, why are you bleeding!?” The vase as well as the painting, however, were both quickly forgotten. You instead lent your focus to your lover, crawled out of the couch and staring at you like you weren’t real. A thick white wrapping of bandages covered your abdomen, wrapped around your waist and the smallest of patches of red had seeped through the side. Where the glass shard from earlier had hit you. Dilucs mouth hung agape, he couldn’t find the words to say to you before you were kneeled before him. Using your strength to gather him in your arms and help him up. Though it didn’t require much effort on your part, Diluc could feel you picking up the pieces right in front of him. The pieces of his heart that had dropped when you left. He was quick to wrap his muscle corded arms around your neck and hold you against him.
“I’m... so sorry.” He didn’t lift his head in fear that if he did, you would be reminded of what he did, and leave him again. “Don’t go. Please, don’t.” The red head was only put at ease when he felt your secure arms hold him back. And though your hands didn’t reach far enough to touch around his back, Ragnvindr had never felt so at home and so relieved than in your warm embrace. He finally allowed a sniffle to escape him; but was sure to block you from the view of the countless tears slipping down his cheeks. “Where- where can I go without you?” This failed, however, as it was all too clear that you’d heard his quiet sobs of relief and the desperation in his voice. The last question in his mind was whether or not you would forgive him or not. Whether or not you could move on and forgive his outburst. The fit of rage that had left a small gash on your abdomen. And even if you could find it in your heart to accept his apologies, Diluc knew this night would be branded into his memory with a hot iron rod. His fingers tightened against your clothes and the knight could swear he felt his knees weaken when he saw the blood staining your side. How could he ever recover from this? From such a wicked sin? He couldn’t, for once, imagine the day he would forget hurting the single most important person to him. The idea itself was so repulsively vile that his stomach tighten with the weight of his actions. He gently pressed his hand against the wound, through the pain seeding through his own skin. “Darling, I don’t have the words.” He shied from your gaze, constantly blinking away the tears that threatened to spill again. What could he say to you? How could he know what you were thinking?
“Okay- okay, Diluc come here.” You placed a hand against his and gently pried it from your side, instead placing your lips against his knuckles when you felt the tremble beneath his skin. And the crimson dripping down his arms and outlining his veins. “It’s alright-“
“It’s not. It’s not alright.” He suddenly spat, eyes having softened upon watching as you forgave him.
“Diluc it’s okay. I wouldn’t lie to you, alright?” The knight latched onto your hand so tightly, you feared it might have fallen off, should he have let go. “It’s okay.” Small sniffles, and another sob erupted from your ever stoic lover. Finally the walls of the strongest man you knew were coming down and you were awaiting readily to gather him in your arms and accept every apology he chanted.
Ch*lde
As soon as Tartaglia’s key alights his car with its colored LEDs, the gas pedal is nearly floored. You couldn’t have gotten far, surely. Surely, you were okay with all of the snow and slush caking the concrete roads at this ungodly hour. Surely, you would have kept a level head while driving and ensured your own safe. All the same, Childe gripped the steering wheel like it was keeping him from losing his shit. That it was. His eyes, burning bright and blue searched every bus stop, every bench, every dark sidewalk where you may have stopped.
“Crash reported ahead.”
His navigation blared, pumping a newfound level of fear into the blood of his popping veins. He never imagined a few words could end with the love of his life running in search of escape from him, of all people. That it could have resulted in the possibility of losing you so suddenly. That the consequence to his mistake would have been so grand. The ginger ground his teeth to dust, pressing on the gas until he was doubling the speed limit. Still, not a gust of a wind of your presence or merely your scent, whatsoever. Nevertheless, his speed did not hinder him from checking the car parked on the side of the road, it’s hood decimated horribly by a girthy tree. The second he did not recognize the vehicle, he sped on, sighing a breath of relief he had no idea he’d held in until the moment it escaped him. Childe could not comprehend all of the terrible things that might have happened to you in this cold, icy weather. Nor did he want to. The guilt from his having said something cruel enough to make you leave crushed him under its weight alone. The ginger wanted to pull out his hair. Might something have happened to you during the time which you were meant to be under his protection, his worries would not have lied with his reputation. But in the fear that you would not return to him.
Childe slammed his hand against the steering wheel, blaring his horn at a slow car in front of his. He didn’t have time for this. No time to wait for you. No time to wait on this perfectly sane person. No time to be waiting around for you as if you’d fall into his hold once again. He could not, Childe opted, give you the time to consider leaving him because you really would this time.
“Piece of shit.” He seethed through his teeth, swerving past the small Sudan as soon as a clearing to the side of the road opened wide enough. And it astounded him above all else, really, how fast you must have been going to have avoided his sights for so long. The wind howled, the blizzard seemed to pick up significantly, ice and snowflakes blaring at his window. It took the ginger all too long, too much driving, too much fear, too much gas to finally catch sight of the car you’d taken. Seeing it, a newfound relief washed over him like a tidal wave and he floored the gas pedal again. Childe thanked the good heavens that the freeway the two of you had entered was fairly unoccupied. Between the cars and the lanes of the road came opportunity for the ginger to swerve skillfully between tanks of metal in order to finally approach yours. You were quick to make your exit not long after, however. He was glad you didn’t seem to notice his car following you but as he thought about it, Childe hadn’t thought about what he would do when he found you. At the time of his chase, he had been too panicked to decide on how he would get you back home to him.
The car you’d picked came to a stop in front of the ocean. Though you couldn’t see the moon nor the stars, the blizzard seemed to have calmed momentarily. Hopefully, you thought, long enough to dip your toes in the freezing sea water and distract your mind from the screams of the argument you hadn’t resolved.
Childe watched you exit the car slowly, hair blowing wildly in the wind and frost almost instantly forming on the soft locks of your hair. You hadn’t expected it, despite the weather, to be so difficult to move your legs. To step away from the car you two shared and in your mind, just one step farther from a solution with your lover. Walking away from that car was like walking away from him, so your lead-heavy legs worked like steam engines to push you forward with your hesitation. It did not pass the harbinger how you had removed your shoes and left them in the car, reddening your toes and making your fingers tremble from the sheer cold. His panic hadn’t dissolved, however, and Childe struggled to unbuckle himself as quickly as possible. His lithe fingers fumbled hurriedly against his buckle and the car door handle. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. Fortunately for him, you stopped dead in your tracks the moment you heard his car door shut behind you. With wide eyes meeting his, you paced backwards.
How did he find you? You didn’t know. You thought you’d been sure you sped enough to escape him, even if he’d followed right after you (which you weren’t actually expecting). Just as quickly as you met his eyes, he’d sped to you so quickly you couldn’t back up. Childe looked livid, volatile and like if you said the wrong thing, he would turn red and explode. So you kept your mouth tightly shut when he picked you up and quite literally shoved you into his passenger seat. Finally sitting beside you once more, he looked to you, the windshield, down at his lap and back to you again. His hands trembled, unsure of whether to touch you, support his pounding head or slam against the wheel in frustration.
“What are you thinki-…. What were you thinking!!!???” Childe screamed at you, wiping a palm against his mouth in an attempt to calm himself. “Can you even fathom how afraid I was!? There is a Snezhnayan blizzard out here right now and you want to hit, what, 110 on the fucking highway!!?? Are you out of your mind!?” His eyes were red, a sudden change from his blue irises. “What if you crashed!!?? Huh!!?? What the fuck do I-…” he covered his mouth for a moment before continuing. “What am I supposed to do? If I can’t find you one day?” His tone was soft now, cold and shaky hands gripping the steering wheel like a vice and head resting against his forearms.
“You’re yelling at me again?” You spoke after many too moments of silence but Childe didn’t so much as lift his head. “Is this how you want it to be? Constantly screaming and cursing at each other over things that can be prevented?” You were sick of seeing merely his orange tuft of hair. How could you get him to meet your gaze? “How do you think I’ve felt for months now, Tartaglia?” The ginger immediately shook his head and for once leaned back into his seat.
“Don’t say that. Don’t call me that. That’s not my name.” The harbinger was long past recognizing his mistakes. His issue now was his guilt. Because, yes, he definitely knew how you felt. Those nights coming home half breathing had flown past him. Never would he have thought that they affected you so deeply, had you not said something. And at those times when he was so very tired, so very sore and ultimately craving sleep and nothing more, screams of displeasure and fear from his lover we’re of his least concern. He imagined you felt the same way at that moment. Listening to him scream about how you could have died had the highway not been so fortunately empty was likely nothing but a passing nuisance to you now. Hearing his harbinger name form on your tongue cut deeper than any wound he’d earned in battle. That name was reserved for those he did not trust and those who did not care for nor trust him either. The only name his ears craved to hear you speak was Childe, Ajax or a pet name. Now after such a long day and so much stress and screaming and driving, Childe swore he was going to have a heart attack if you continued using that godforsaken name of his.
“Try again. Maybe an apology, Tartaglia- why don’t we start with th-” you retorted, unprepared for him to cut you off with yet another scream.
“-That’s not my name!!!” He still wouldn’t opt to meet your eyes but you could tell he craved to with how his head shook. “I’m sorry. Okay, I’m sorry.” Finally his eyes were visible and you leaned forward to put yourself in his line of sight. Hesitant but relieved you didn’t seem angry, Childe finally complied. “I didn’t know it was so important and I brushed it off because I really didn’t think much of it. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, if I knew it pained you this much I never would have ignored you.” He fought a small battle in his mind. Whether to try and grab your hand and selfishly soothe his own nerves with the softness of your skin or to allow you to come to him. He placed his shaky hand open in front of you, fingers bent and aching to enclose around yours. “Please. Don’t use that name.” If it made him feel like he’d lost you, it was clear you did not care. But when you placed your hand in his scarred palm, his fingers reacted like the teeth of a Venus flytrap and ensured you could not let go of him. He’d felt so sure of himself when he thought that you were overreacting when you scolded him for returning home hardly alive. Of course while it was clear to him how dangerous his line of work was, it hadn’t occurred to him that it would pain you emotionally as much as it did him physically.
“Okay, Childe. Tell me honestly. If me driving in the snow was so scary, how would you feel if I returned home every day from now on on the brink of death and bleeding into the carpet? Just imagine it-“ You’re voice shook with each word, holding back tears of frustration at the reminder of how much you despised the night time upon catching sight of his bandages again. The harbinger shook his head furiously in an instant. Then he did again, even more aggressively this time and his nails dug into your hand. He didn’t want to imagine that. He couldn’t. You reciprocated, knowing that he could imagine the stress he’d caused you. “Childe because I can’t-“ you clasped a hand over your mouth for a second and dragged it down with the tear that slipped past your defenses. “I can’t keep seeing you like that.” Your voice was a whisper and Childe took that as his queue to stop being pathetic. After all, he was the one who cursed himself to death or a fate worse than death a mere few minutes ago. A life without you. “And I can’t… literally can’t handle it. I’m not strong enough, I’m sorry. I never imagined you felt that you’d rather die than stay with me. If you felt that way you could have said something. I’m not here to hold you down and if you- if you di… die-“ your tongue went rigid. Hiccups and small gasps of fear erupted mortifyingly from your throat. You couldn’t finish your sentence fast enough before your lover yanked you into his embrace and curled his muscle-corded arms around you.
“My god I didn’t mean that. A life without you is worse than death. A life without you is stripped of meaning. Is bland and colorless. I can’t do…” he smooshed your face into his warm chest and you muffled a sob into his chest. “Cant do without you.” He rested his cheek on your head and rubbed it snuggly into you. “Love you so much. Cant leave me okay? Okay?” He chanted with a voice so genuinely dripping with honey that you quite literally melted into his arms. Your body went limp in his hold apart from your hands gripping the back of his black t-shirt. “You’re not leaving me. You can’t.” He smiled to himself, eyes red and trained on your smaller figure smooshed like slime to his. You only hummed in response. And if that meant you would die before leaving him; and if it meant he would kill anyone before letting you leave him, you didn’t care.
“Okay.”
Dainsleif
If Dainsleif had gone insane, he wasn’t sure. But waiting for a few hours at your shared house had never felt so long. Nothing had felt so long. The blonde could brandish his achievement of living for centuries at any moment. And it was clear in his appearance, his intelligence, experience and demeanor that he’d had already seen more than he could handle. He’d experienced wars, heartbreak, torture, decades in complete solitude with no one to care for nor anyone to care for him. When you came along and lit a small wisp of a flame in his heart, it made all the difference. He found himself quickly addicted to your smile and the way your heart beated for him and him alone. You made as much clear. This warm love for you was not exempt from becoming a problem, however. Though Dainsleif would never admit it, he loved you sincerely, cripplingly and cruelly. Dainsleif found himself searching for you at his lowest, with you at his highest and when without you, paralyzed. You'd forced your nimble fingers into the cracks of his shielded heart and wedged it open, finding a way to corrupt his steeled mind to depend solely on you and your affection in order to survive. He knew then, when you'd left him in your house alone that you'd succeeded. The moment you shut the door and whispered his greatest nightmare to his face, the blonde couldn't breathe. He stumbled over himself when his legs instinctively took action to catch up to you but it was almost immediately that he failed. His boot caught on his heel and Dainsleif almost went tumbling to the wood floor.
Should he follow you? Should he wait here? Should he call you, knowing there was no chance you wanted to hear from him? He was lost when it came to you. You were the only one who could ever rule him completely disoriented. It took him a long while to realize he had been taking himself in laps around the living room. His mind raced faster than his heart. Where were you? Were you okay? What if you’d been kidnapped or mugged or assaulted or raped? He felt his blood run colder than the endless snowstorms that ruled Snezhnaya at the prospect of not being sure whether or not someone had their rancid hands on you.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Any sailer would have been proud of the string of prays and curses Dainsleif muttered every few seconds. As long as you returned, he told himself. As long as you came back to him unharmed and alive, everything would be okay. That obsession he had with you had, somewhere along the way, had given Dainsleif the irresistible urge to brutally disembowel and skin alive any person who spoke to you for too long. Anyone who smiled just a little too much beside you. If he said he hadn’t hunted down at least one or two people for crossing a line with you, he’d be lying. Now, however, the only solution to his guilt ridden mind was to have you chew him out.
You, nevertheless, were too plagued at the brain with thoughts of insecurity and doubt to even think of returning home to your worried lover. Your mind drifted to his scrunched face, angry tone, and the phrase that lived only in your nightmares until that day. The nightmares you would wake from in a cold sweat, yearning for his reassurance and affections. Hoping so dearly with everything within you that you would never screw up bad enough to receive such a world ending look directed at you. Dainsleif was usually hyper aware of your doubtful mind. Sensing the moments when your insecurities surfaced in the slight stilling of your dulled eyes or the way your fingers twitched. Tonight, you realized quite vividly he hadn’t noticed a single one of those signs.
Instead, the worried man was questioning whether you were alive. Or if, instead, you’d been stolen off the streets at the ungodly hour it was. Maybe you’d been hurt. Or raped. Or murdered. What scared Dain the most, above anything in the universe that could possibly frighten him, was the unknown. More especially when it came to you. Not knowing where you were, if you were healthy or okay. Not knowing what to do in order to soothe his heart pounding through the gaps in his rib cage and attacking his chest. While his impenetrable immortality was a benefit when it came to protecting you, if you were not there to be protected, Dainsleif was the most powerless man on the planet. And he couldn’t stand the feeling of knowing that if you were screaming for his help to save you at that very moment, he wouldn’t know until later that night when the police arrived at his door with news that you’d been stolen from him for good this time. And that moment would crush him under the weight of every syllable. And his world would legitimately collapse within an instant. And his sanity would shatter like a cheap wine glass in front of his very eyes. And his life and his purpose would crumble away.
If you should have returned home, you didn’t know. What was clear to you was that you were ready to make up with him. Whether he wanted you there or not, you were unsure of as well. But you were prepared to pack your bags if he asked it of you. If what he said was true, in that extreme moment of anger, then it would be better to remain there, at the beach you walked down as you released every milliliter of terminal heartbreak in the form of every tear your eyes could manage. Avoiding the thought of him was impossible; as you’d found a long, long while ago, without being dead. Dainsleif occupied and owned every fiber of the pathetic excuse for a brain you called your own. Any waking moment was lived entirely in hopes that maybe he would praise you, give you a kiss or lend you some of his precious time. And now that your world had crumbled before you, you weren’t sure of how to react. Sure, there had been nights were your dreams turned to nightmares in which Dainsleif would leave you, abandon you or incidents like these would occur. But similar to dying in a nightmare, you’d woken up before they progressed and were left to dread every idea of an outcome. Now that those vile words had actually been directed towards you, all that preparation to feel indifferent about heartbreak over the years went out of the window. As you sat silently and pathetically alone by the water, you sobbed with fear. Fear that you weren’t sure of how to react. How to move on. How to respond to his humiliating confession. How was it possible to move past this? You’d wanted to believe so desperately that you were dreaming still, your brain finally able to fabricate some form of a story to break your heart again. Alas, you heard your lover speak it with his own lips. And ignoring the invisible fist gripping your heart painfully, you stood with shaky legs and a trembling lip. You knew what was to come.
Now, whatever you may have thought was to come, definitely had not looked anything like that. Arriving home to find your calm, collected boyfriend ripping his hair out. Like literally he ran in laps around the room, hands gripping the light of his locks and letting an unnatural amount of hair fall to the floor. You cringed at the awful state of your home. Had the house been ransacked in that short period of time you’d been gone? And was Dainsleif so disoriented that he would let an intruder tear your home apart to such a degree? Why was there a knife lodged into the flat screen tv that took you three months to save up for? With part of the carpet torn up from the floor and the biggest knife of them all gripped tightly in your lovers hand. Of course, that wasn’t the least of it. Plenty of other sharp objects had been stuck into various spots around the room, a plate or two shattered on the kitchen floor and your dining table quite literally knocked over.
You were surprised at the level of shock Dain must have been experiencing considering the fact that he didn’t so much as notice your return to the house for a few minutes. You stared in awe at the prospect of your sweet lover making a mess of the place. He’d never been one for a mess, for trouble and certainly not for any kind of chaos. Being as calm and collected as he was, it was out of character when Dainsleif whipped his head to you with wide, red eyes when your keys fell with a tension shattering clatter. It was like he’d seen a ghost with his hollowed irises. Had he truly been jumped in your absence? If he had, it wasn’t like your immortal lover was incapable of defending himself. He was more than adept at subduing any threat that crossed his path.
“Dainsleif what happened in here?” You asked in genuine concern. He could only open and close his mouth in shock, likely not having had expected you to return. And most definitely not having a word to say in response. In all honesty he, too, did not know how the apartment managed to reach such a state. More than likely, the disheveled rooms were a reflection as well as a result of the delusions he’d fabricated in the confines of his own mind. It showed in the trembling of his fingers that were gripping another knife he planned on throwing into some other expensive piece of furniture.
“You… here… why-when did you-why did you come here?” You hardly had to ponder the answer to his question. You knitted your brows together, confused beyond belief.
“What do you mean why, Dain? I live here. With you. Remember?” You scoffed, trying to imagine a reason behind his clear outburst.
“You haven’t… chosen to leave?” The five words he’d spoken out of fear in that moment told you everything you needed to know. He was afraid. He’d expressed his grief and crippling fear in the destruction of countless items in your home together. Finally— and likely for the first time that night— Dainsleif looked around him at the chaos that had ensued. It would take a burglar effort to cause as much damage in a number of hours that Dainsleif had in only one. It astounded him what he was capable of when he didn’t put his mind to it. Truthfully, he’d felt so many negative emotions for the first time that night that the memory of destroying the house was but a fleeting concern. Now with you having returned when he could have promised that you were to leave him, Dainsleif teared up.
“No! Why would I leave you, Dainsleif that is ridiculous! Did you do this shit!? What are you, five!?” It’s clear in your tone of voice that you’re not happy with him, but Dainsleif could not care less about how angry you would be with him. Even if he hugged your leg with sweaty skin and teary cheeks, at least you would interact with him. Thankfully he opted to refrain from touching you. You looked angry. Confused or overwhelmed. He couldn’t tell which. You looked so troubled that despite his desperation for you touch, he wouldn’t risk losing you.
“Are you upset with me?” He whispered, straining his wilting muscles to stand up. You weren’t mad. Not with the looks he gave you. Not with how much he loved you so preciously. You knew he hadn’t meant what he said. Dainsleif wasn’t the type and never had been. You weren’t stupid; well aware of the fact (especially with the disorder in your home as a consequence to your absence for a mere hour or two) that he had regretted what he said. The look in his eyes when your eyebrows furrowed at his question reassured you of it.
“Dainsleif I’m not mad. I just wouldn’t have taken you as the type to trash the house in a hissy fit in a matter of, what, an hour?” His face scrunched with what looked to be discomfort.
“No! Please don’t do that. Be upset with me. Hit me.” Was he angry?? Surely not. He stepped closer to you and gripped your wrist. Thrusting your hesitant hand against his chest and repeatedly slamming it against himself, he looked as though he would cry. “Yell at me.”Watching your lover as he lifted your hand once more and hit it harshly against his face broke your heart. Thud after thud, he was unrelenting. “Hit me and label me with terrible names. Hate me.” You began to bawl. Maybe your arm pulled back in protest but Dain had always been stronger. Smarter. More experienced. You couldn’t overpower him or his insatiable desire to feel you release your anger onto him. You tried. And with all your might to stop him from forcing your hand against his skin. To stop even yourself from leaving such red marks against his skin. “I’m sorry.” Now he slowed. Suddenly he loosened his grip on your hand; it hardly mattered. Your guilt ate you alive. You made him feel this way. If you’d had no heart to be upset with him for what he’d said, now you certainly had no right. You weren’t even strong enough to tell your lover to stop hurting himself. It hardly mattered whether he would retain the damage or not. Never would you lay a hand on the man you loved. Dainsleif, however, could say the same thing when it came to how tears spilled down your cheeks. He’d been the cause despite his endless promises to protect you.
“Don’t make me do that to you.” Your wrists fell from his hands. “I could never do that-“ your sniffles must have ripped courage from Dainsleif. He’d found the strength to wrap his arms around your smaller frame and crush you against him. “I could never hate you. I don’t ever want to hurt you.” Burying your face into his warm chest, you kept a mental note to speak with him. I’m the moment, your priority would be to hold him in your arms and drill the fact that he was long past forgiveness into his heart.
___
Thanks for reading
Sorry for the delay, it will be a normal occurance
#diluc ragnvindr#diluc#diluc angst#diluc comfort#childe angst#childe x reader#diluc x reader#childe comfort#childe#Tartaglia#dainsleif x reader#dainsleif#dainsleif angst#dainsleif comfort#genshin#genshin x reader#genshin angst#angst comfort#harbinger x reader#harbinger angst
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King of the cage
Daryl Dixon x reader | [Pt.2]
In the apocalypse, entertainment is hard to come by. Until you hear of underground groups fighting with anything nonhuman.. CW: Descriptive violence and murder.
Loud cheers rung through the basement hall. Rowdy folk rattling fences and screaming in excitement for the next round.
With the world ending, entertainment was hard to come by but slowly these underground events started making a comeback through word of mouth.
A loud bell rang that had the crowd go silent, its attention pulled back to the giant cage that sat in the middle of the hall.
A megaphone wielding man appeared in the middle of the cage. He got the crowd riled up as he introduced two new entries.
The two next fighters.
While he backed up he called out the first one by name, then its most ferocious features and then its species.
The crowd rumbled with anticipation as they waited for the creature to be released from its confinement.
Massive steel latches came undone as a heavy door slid open to reveal a satyr. Its legs plated with jagged steel as well as its tail. Its hooves hidden by heavy, sharp covers that clunked with every step it took. Its hornes were decked out in metal covers too, making a headbutt a lot more dangerous than it already was.
It circled the centre cage, dragging its tail across the blood splattered concrete and sending sparks flying off its tail end. The metal could cut anything in half with one good swing. Whoever caught this one knew what they were doing.
That was the first thought in your mind seeing the creature stalk the other door connected to the cage. Watch that tail.
You couldn't see the ones across from you, the ones who owned the beast. They too were decked out in armor like outfits and masks.
And then the announcer, now from his safe space on the third high spot above the cage, announced the second fighter.
Yours.
"Our next beast is a fan favorite! Brutal. Intelligent and oh so scary! A monster worn by countless battles!" He gestured grand towards the other door as it unlarched and slid open to reveal your most prized possession.
"Let's hear it for our angel of death!"
The crowd went wild as your beast lunged out of his enclosure into the cage and it sent a rush of adrenaline through your system.
"LETS HEAR IT FOR DIXON!"
Your monstrous wolf roared as he circled his opponent, snapping his jaw in aggression. The steel fang caps alsays catching the shitty lights perfectly, showing off its sharpness just right. The chains around his forearms dragged along the floor, creating a terrifying harmony with the drag of the other's metal tail.
His low stance showed off his branding marks to the crowd. Two giant wings over his back, scarred to the bone so no fur would grow back, no chance of healing.
To the crowd he looked like the perfect killing machine, equipped with metal claws and fangs, scars allover and a ferocious snarl that strikes fear into the crowd, but only soaks your underwear.
Inside the cage the creatures kept circling until the harsh bell rang through the hall, signaling the start.
Your sign to scream. "Watch the tail, baby!" But it seemed he had already caught on. As the satyr took a readying stance, your wolf had lunged straight at the creature, shoving it right in the chest with his head as his claws went to encase his spine.
A yelp sounded through the cage as the clawed gloves of his opponent dug into your wolf's ribs but he quickly retailated. Four thick claws dug between individual vertebrae close to the satyr's hips as the other claw grabbed, twisted and yanked hard. With a crunch of bone and a deafening scream the tail detatched and was thrown off to the side, pieces of metal plating scattered on the ground.
With its tail gone the creature let go and dropped to the ground but bouncing back almost immediately. On your beast's backstep it lunged at him hoof first and kicked him straight in the chest, tearing through skin and muscle. There was barely enough time to move with the kick and avoid getting ribs cut clean trough. That one was gonna leave a scar.
It was clear in his eyes he was done with this one already. No fun to be had with something that only sliced.
Your opponents were yelling command after command at their creature and it followed througg with each and every one. They trained it well, but forgot the other beast had the chance to steer crear of every single step as it was called out.
"Dee! Quit dodging, they're getting bored!" Your voice rang through the crowd that howled in agreement. "Go crazy, baby!"
His ears perked up at your command. He got booed for finishing matches with smaller opponents too quick and had to learn to play, like a dog.
The satyr lunged at him with a spinning kick aiming straight for his eyes but a quick turn away from it and a 'click' of his chain he snagged a leg and yanked the chain towards him, again dragging the creature onto its back over the floor. Those legs could kill easily and were protected by a thick steel so biting was no use. Clawing wasn't an option either so for now he'd have to immobilize them with the chains. A swift twirl had the chain wrap around tight. A large paw stomped onto them a couple of times, blood smearing the metal plates until the crack of bone could be heard.
The creature cried and whined out in pain as yours sported a wicked grin, opening his maw to show off his custom dental work before diving in and tearing off half of his opponent's ribcage.
With a spray of blood and a disgusting squelch of a steel tipped claw tearing out a heart the crowd howled along with your killer.
The round was over and the announcer congratulated you and your beast on the win, letting the crowd know not to move from their seats as the next round was about to begin.
"The hell?" When did they implement the back to back rounds? This wasn't discussed.
You were supposed to be looking after him now assessing his wounds and encourage hin to heal. He may have been your fighter in everyone else's eyes but under all those metal adornments made to fit his beast shape he was still your partner.
He was the one that saved your life only to have you for dinner himself, starved and desperate but he spared you because of the interest in your eyes instead of fear.
You two ended up sharing the leftovers in your bag that gave him enough strength to hunt down some game and feed you both. You made it through winter together and became dependant on each other. He was a nonhuman who was abused since childhood and never had a chance at success, not even when the world ended and skills like his were considered useful.
But now you had each other.
"Dee! You got this, baby! I right here withya, focus." Your voice drowned out the rowdy crowd as he backed up to his door and rested against it. Evening out his breathing and recalling your steps of making him heal in between matches wasn't working as well as he hoped, but his hindpaw could now hold his full weight again and his chest was at least partially knitted back together and no ribs were exposed anymore.
Just in time for the next round bell to ring and the opponent's door to open again.
With erratic movements two giant batlike creatures came from the opening. Their wings were clipped so they couldn't fly anymore but their screeching sounds were as killing as ever.
Behind the two jittery winged things something else stomped in. Heavy footfalls sounded through the hall as a large, grey wolf enters the cage. Its sheer size made yours look so small. The bats had thick plated armor covering their chests and upper backs, all around their ribcage.
Feral vampiric creatures. You had seen more sophisticated vampires in your life, they weren't uncommon. But these things were different. Not a single speck of humanity left in them, driven mad by hunger and bloodlust.
But the giant wolf was your biggest concern. He stood so tall he had to walk through the door on all fours.
"This is insane!" You were mad. Not even angry, just furious with this turn of events.
A noise came from the cage, one you recognized immediately. The sound of "I'm gonna be okay". And it came just in time as the round start rung through the hall and the crowd began to chant for a fight.
"Baby let's go! Show'em what you got!" He took in your words and focussed.
He went to work calculated, using the cage itself to climb up to the winged beasts, using his skill aquired in the woods to hop from side to side and snatch the bats off the cage walls and tear through their wings. He had to take them out fast to make sure their bites wouldn't poison him.
He took one by the wing and tossed it at the other one that jumped at him. Colliding mid-air with a crack they fell to the floor, the giant white beast sidestepping easily and keeping an eye on your fighter. The cheers from the crowd were fueling his fire as he jumped down after the bats and landed on all fours, paws all placed strategically and crushing skulls and spines before hopping off and focusing on the big guy now, who had surprisingly let him do his thing for now.
"Dee, he's observing! Go nuts!" He had fought so many different creatures he had built up quite the skillset.
The thing was huge, bulky and probably less quick. He had to be light on his feet, even with his massive weight and added metal.
They circled, snarling and snapping at each other before the big one lunged. His move was dodged with a jump, but claws still found their way into his leg, tearing the flesh. His other hindleg managed to make it up high enough to land a metal clawed kick to the back of the grey furred neck and grabbing onto the mane to stay on top of him and claw at the beast.
With a pained roar he was trashed off and sent to the ground, slamming into the side of the cage and taking a massive claw to the face, cracking his jaw.
With his uninjured leg he managed to shove himself out of the way and dodge the next hit that got caught by the cage. It gave your beast a moment to slash at the tendons in the leg and render it immobile for at least a little while.
He had to use this opening. His metal claw tips made easy work of other muscles in his limbs, taking them out one by one in swift, calculated moves.
The grey monster sat on its knees, snapping its jaw in any direction your wolf went in but made the mistake to let out an open mouthed growl.
Without a second thought two claws were grabbing each jaw, claws piercing the inside of the mouth and fangs digging deep into the delicate flesh of pawpads.
The beast thrashed but was no match anymore for the scarred wolf high on adrenaline. He felt like the king as he pulled at the jaws and tore his opponent's head in half with a loud howl that reverberated through the building. Cheers and howls from the crowd joined your killer's mighty roars as he took in the love from the crowd.
"He remains king of the cage! Dixon wins!"
The announcer's voice cut through the crowd as you made your way down to the entry corridors where your beast had retreated. The cloak you wore tossed ovwe the beast as he sat down against the wall.
"You did amazing, dear." Your hands went to rest on his cheeks. "Come back to me, Daryl."
With the call of his name it was like a switch was flipped. His eyes went back to their human shade with a few blinks and his body followed suit. As he turned his leg healed enough tonwalk back to your prep room, running him a bath to relax his muscles and worship him in any way he wished for.
"The hell were those three?" His voice was raspy from the fights. "Fuckin' crazy them folks."
You couldn't help but let out a laugh at his comment. "It was rude to not warn us. But you won!" You leaned in to kiss his head. "So, you want a reward?"
The bath was suddenly a lot less needed. Daryl stepped out and hauled you over his shoulder and threw you on the bed.
"Yeah, love me nice rewardin' night with ma woman."
Yeah, you'd collect your prize tomorrow.
A/N: This popped into my head this morning. The song prompted a full crazy idea so here we go I guess? Enjoy!!
#sometimes i write#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon fanfiction#twd#twd daryl#the walking dead#twd au#werewolves#werewolf#Spotify
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Ok so no rush, you can answer this whenever you feel like it. I just had a saucy idea and had to share it with you before I forgot. I'd love to hear what you think (*/ω＼*)
So, what if canon Gyutaro was wrecking havoc on a village or something. Literally killing everyone in sight, and devouring people to his heart's content. But then he sees you. The cutest, most frightened human he's ever seen. And he just instantly feels some type of way. Ahem, horny asf. lmao.
And since he's an asshole who really doesn't give a shit. He plans on just taking advantage of you, not caring if you want it or not (which he assumes you won't since everyone is repulsed by him) and just killing you when he's done using your body. But to his surprise, when he approaches you, trying to have sex with you. You don't reject him because you are actually attracted to him.
How do you think he would react and feel in this situation? Would he continue with the act? And how do you think he'd feel afterwards?
"Oɴʟʏ ʏᴏᴜʀs" (Mʀs. Sʜᴀʙᴀɴᴀ's BD Gɪғᴛ)
NSFW content | Insults | Almost abuse (but not) | Blood mention | MINORS DNI!!
He couldn't leave your head, it had already been 2 weeks since you last saw him. The first time, you trembled with fear when you saw how the blood of that body ran from his fingers and from the corners of his mouth. His twisted silhouette made you feel a chill run down your spine. Her vertebrae could be counted as well as his ribs above his sickly thin waist and his sharp hip bones jutting out.
Even though he was unnaturally thin, his arms and legs were strong and muscled. The strange man was outside on the street, submerged in the few shadows of the Entertainment District while you watched him from your bedroom window. That was the first but not the last time you saw him.
A few other nights later you were able to observe that man wandering the streets without fear of anything attacking him because he was he whom everyone feared. But something strange began to happen to you, something that made you doubt your mental faculties. Are you sure everything is ok? Or at least with that you tried to convince yourself when seeing him your heart began to beat faster and you stood outside the balcony of your window so that at some point he would notice your presence.
But he did not. Or that was what you thought.
It was another normal night for him, some streets were on fire and others were almost destroyed due to the fight a while ago. The Demon Slayers in charge of ending the lives of the two siblings were now dead, they had failed their mission and evil had triumphed this time.
Gyutaro gobbled into his mouth the intestines of the people he wanted, he ate his fill after his sister told him that it was all for him while she went elsewhere to satisfy her instinct to hunt something alive.
The young demon was in the midst of the disaster and destruction, full of euphoria and focused on his food. Nothing could make him take his eyes off his victims until whimpers from a soft, feminine voice caught his attention. When he looked up, he noticed a figure rise from some rubble trying to walk to safety.
He knew you, he knew who you were, and do you know how long he waited for this moment? Do you know how long he held back from jumping onto your balcony to take you all to himself?
From the first moment he noticed you that night, you seemed to him the most beautiful and fragile human being he had ever seen. He wanted to dirty your beauty and break your fragility in every way, but whenever he was ready to kill you, the simple fact of thinking that he would no longer have anything interesting stopped him. But now fate had made you two meet, you served him this opportunity on a silver platter and he was not going to waste it for any reason. Gyutaro felt very active and awake, he was almost out of his mind so his body demanded something that wasn't eating, he already had a full stomach.
You saw him, you knew what he was so clumsy and uselessly you tried to get away from him in the opposite direction but he was a thousand times faster than you so when you tried to move for your life he was standing in front of you, with a merciless and sickly evil smile.
He took you by the neck with one hand applying a lot of force, you took his hand with yours to try to stop him from choking you but it was useless. He only had more fun watching you squirm like a little insect until after a few seconds he dropped you back to the ground. You coughed for air, your hair was a little messy as you looked down but knowing that you were about to die forced you to stare at the ground until you heard his voice, shaky but intimidating.
"Do you know how long I've been waiting for this? For you to finally be mine... don't worry, I'll be nice." He sneered, laughing shrilly.
You didn't even notice when your back hit the ground and he was on top of you. His yellow veined eyes rested on yours that threatened to cry. You really didn't want to die but if he was the one who was going to kill you you didn't feel so anguished for some reason.
It was your dark and guilty secret.
You squeezed your eyes shut, expecting a stab in the stomach or chest, maybe he'd rip off one of your limbs, but instead of feeling agonizing pain, you felt his long, wet tongue trace a path from your jaw to your collar bones. His saliva had mixed with the blood from his food so now an almost pink stain covered your skin.
He held both of your hands with one hand to keep you still in your place and began to attack you with rude kisses, hickeys and some bites, painting your soft skin as he wanted. Gyutaro imagined how repulsive and disgusting this would be for you and that prompted him to continue with your shoulders until he reached your breasts, he would not stop until he got what he wanted but when a small moan came from your mouth he almost froze.
Gyutaro looked at your face and he found a blush spreading from your cheeks to your ears, you weren't struggling with him at all and that sound sounded so fucking satisfying to you that it left him very confused.
Gyutaro didn't understand, you were so strange but that didn't stop him. If you liked it, that made Gyutaro feel that he was the owner of you, of your body.
He took the bottom of your kimono and pulled it up above your waist to spread your legs, get rid of your underwear and enter you after he dropped his pants. His touch was strong and unexpected, you wouldn't deny that it was a bit painful but you didn't disagree and he wasn't taking you against your will, Gyutaro thought it would be like that but he discovered that with each of his strong and abrupt thrusts you enjoyed this meeting more and more.
He didn't make sure that you were ready for him to come in, the truth is he doesn't give a shit, he could only move with the little humidity that you felt when he kissed you. Gyutaro was incredulous but blinded by the pleasure you gave him, he didn't take his eyes off your face, watching how each of your expressions changed with his movements. He was as loud as he wanted, his voice made you tremble and you felt like you were about to get to heaven in such a short time. Gyutaro hit your core with force and desire while he passed his tongue and his mouth all over your skin, he undressed your bust and began stamping his teeth on your tits causing red marks on your skin.
This couldn't be better, Gyutaro went crazy when he felt how much you were squeezing and getting wet around him, the sensation that your pussy caused on his dick was fucking unique and incomparable. Honestly, Gyutaro wanted nothing more than just sex with you, he was thinking of killing you after using you but if it meant that he would never be able to feel this beautiful sensation again then he would think twice before making it.
Your hips moved almost by themselves looking for Gyutaro, your moans did not stop and you were in charge of telling him not to stop until an intense pang reached your body, you spread your legs more so that the Upper Moon 6 fucked you with everything he had and after a while you felt how you cum all over him. Gyutaro had never had this feeling before, not with anyone else so it ended up making him too aroused by the sight of you and your cunt in front of him, a strong pressure stuck in Gyutaro and a few minutes after you he also finished cumming inside you, filling your every fold leaving you wet and trembling.
After a few seconds he looked up to look at your face. He made fun of your pathetic red-painted face, your lustful gaze on him, and a bit of drool dripping from your mouth.
"You're pathetic! You're fucking pathetic!!" he scoffed.
Gyutaro left you in one movement causing you to have a strange but arousing sensation between your legs. He took you by the face with one hand and squeezed your cheeks hard so that you would look at him.
"I have what I wanted, should I kill you?" he asked out loud, but to himself.
To be honest, you didn't care if he did. After all, you would die happy. Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt a strong burning sensation on your cheek after Gyutaro slapped you. You looked at him and after he adjusted his pants he stood up.
"I'm not gonna waste you...you're mine now, you little whore." He told you.
You looked at him from below and how he walked through the rubble moving away from you and leaving you alone. This was the first time but not the last time that you and Gyutaro would have a heated encounter like this.
Girl, I just want to wish you a happy and amazing birthday, I hope you enjoy your day a lot!!! 🥳 I wish I could give you more but this little writing is made with a lot of love so I hope you liked it ILY!! 💖
#gyutaro x reader#gyutaro shabana#gyutaro smut#gyutaro x y/n#demon slayer#demon slayer smut#kny smut#gyutaro
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Paradigm; side by side
˙✧˖ March 7th: Fight or Flight
Main Masterlist | Paradigm; side by side Masterlist |
SYNOPSIS: Burning, inside and out.
WORDCOUNT: 1.3K
WARNINGS: Cursing, horny Aelin and Rowan, Welding inaccuracies (I am not a welder lol)
Huge thank you to @throneofglassmicrofics for organizing! Make sure to check out other works over on their account!
Drool was beginning to spill.
Hypothetically, that is. Not in a lascivious way, more of an disconnect between mind and body. But then again, who could blame her? Her hands were tightening and pulling, seizing up with tension from the penning. Beginning to ache in a way she would regret days after if pushed. With what she had scrawled along pages, decorated margins in curves, it was time for a break. Resting where she was would work just fine.
Just outside the open pane of glass, sat above the antiquely built desk she had practically defiled with her belongings, was a sight worth said drool.
Aelin’s eyes were stuck everywhere. And it felt incriminating, to be so openly ogling her roommate. Sturdy against the stronger winds off the water of the day. Tall; imposing to what crossed his path. White sand hair, slicked in hazard stripes. Moisture gathering on his brow – enough she cold see its collection from her spot. The small curls at the base of his neck, violently contrasting his skin. Skin she would suffer to touch. A hue of bronze that seemed painted, so exact she could imagine the paintings depicting his structure. All shirtless and sweaty-
She was getting warm.
It was undeniable that something had changed between the two of them, some ripple effect. A slingshot off axis, removing their celestial existences off course. Invigorating in a way that scared her. She was toeing a line that demanded something from her. Forfeit of nothing, compromise on everything, sacrificing herself.
But his voice lived in her head. Good girl. Stupid woman. Burning hands, grating stares. She would be in the kitchen some evenings, taking care of a meal – sans Rowan; he never stayed in a room with her for long – when she felt daggers placed between vertebrae. They scratched at more than grey matter, electrifying bones from their marrow. Dripping out tension, removed without her conscious.
The kitchen was an overlap. A moment where her life had no course but to find his. Magnetic, always coming back to the poles of whatever connection had her hands shaking and her heart squeezing. It only intensified with his actions. He was helpful in the kitchen; competent and assured. Albeit limited, knowing enough recipes to cover the days of the week. Pragmatic when planning, efficient when in action. It was flustering.
They spoke – less after yesterday evening, strained at the table this morning – in small bites. Never more than what could be swallowed whole. Exchanging conversation like trading cards. Parameters and conditions. She took care to keep her voice even when speaking, her flush sometimes translating to a breathlessness. He never seemed to notice when her pitch jumped. Simply going back to his spot and carrying on. Immune to the heady weight of unsaid words.
Peeling back skin from her fingertips, crusted and flaying from the saltwater, Aelin continued to watch Rowan. For all the man was; blunt and unfettered, he had a spirituality to him. Some divination that seeped from pores, asphyxiating with proximity. She had no ability to rid him from her mind. The sailboat portraits mocking in all their glory.
She could be concerned with the safety of his afternoon hobby… but she was gaining a verdant entertainment from the display. Muscles highlighted by the light of the setting sun. In rare cases, framed with sparks of condensed heat. Close enough to pinprick a constellation of scars. And the mask. It was doing things to her that the vibrator she had tossed when leaving the city couldnt even conceive. Fucking bastard.
Welding inane bits of metal without any protection over ones chest seemed like a recipe for absolute disaster. Some sort of dance with pain, a jump and run with each swing. Battling back and forth simply for the trouble of it. But he had been doing it for the past few hours, and all the willpower summoned to her being could not strengthen her against looking. Looking, thats all.
Piece by piece, he worked through a pile of metal. Bending near to get a closer look, flipping the mask up for observation, slamming it down. Gloves tucked on, off. Brushing off sparks from collarbones.
Aelin was up and out of the room before she really had time to consider the outcomes of her next actions.
-
“What’s that you’ve got there,” she called. Sunshine and gentle waves. Currents that drowned. A shiver of pleasure racked his body.
Looking up, Rowan knew where she would be. Had been waiting, hoping, for her to just look in his direction. Breath his way. It meant everything and nothing at once. But god, it meant a hell of a lot right now.
“Just a project. ‘ve been needing to finish it up.” He had to cough, some choking feeling straining words.
“Huh,” she hummed, wrapping slender arms around her middle. She was light, beaming and radiating in muted metals and shining reflections. Stunning in a way that would not hurt your eyes to stare at. “What does that do?”
It was unfortunate, having to pull his gaze from her to whatever she was pointing at.
He hummed, “the electrode holder. See the cord?” His gaze was back on her, waiting for the acknowledgement she had heard him. “This,” pointing at the piece on the table, “is what… brings the metal together, yeah? That is what supplies the power.”
Her eyes followed where he pointed, and it felt like holding a opportunity in roughened hands. Fragile and breakable. But she just smiled, giving a small nod of her head, hair shifting and falling. His hand stretched out to touch it, curtain it behind jewelry adorned ears and away from vibrant eyes. He wanted nothing in the way of her face.
He pulled it back, snapping out of the daze when she stepped closer.
“Why?” Tension weighed heavy, his tongue dry. He could feel the places where he was bare, shifting slightly to readjust. Her closeness was tempting. But, why– why what?
“Why what?”
“Well, why are you doing this?” She was interested. “I mean, and I am no expert or anything, but I feel like not having the proper protective gear is toying with stupidity…” She cares. “... And, I mean, not too long ago you were digging holes, and now its-”
His hand landed on her shoulder, firm and electrifying. It was unconscious, psychic and meant to be. Drifting the spot on the peak on bone, fingers reaching down far enough that he could dig into the base of her shoulder blade if he wanted too. Push into muscle and fat, under bone. Worm his way into her being like she had his.
She paused, mouth parted in a breath of indecision. He could see the indecisive and curious waves rolling through ocean blue irises. Dancing around that ring of gold that burned so bright. He wanted to find ore like that, find some proof of her reality in his surroundings. Present it to her like a gift of ardency. Tug her close and feel the heat under cotton thin t-shirts and canvas pants. Feel her.
He didnt. Instead, turning her around, he pointed over the shoulder his hand wasnt occupying. Indecently brushing it against cheekbones and the thin membrane of her neck. Itching over the closeness. “See that?” He whispered, eyes shifting from the dancing upsurge of colours as they erupted over waves. “I like it. So, I want another view.” He watched the gooseflesh rise on her neck.
She shuddered. “What about the deck?” Murmured, so low he had to lean closer.
“I like right here fine.”
Taglist: @mariaofdoranelle , @leiawritesstories , @renxzs
Let me know if you would like to join the taglist :)
#throne of glass microfics#throne of glass#throne of glass au#throne of glass fanart#rowaelin#rowaelin fanfiction#rowan whitethorn#aelin x rowan#aelin galythinius#rowaelin au#rowan x aelin#aelin and rowan#aelin galathynius#aelin ashryver galathynius#aelin fireheart#sarah j maas#sjm books#sjm#sjmaas#aelinschild
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So here’s a question for you from a random admirer…
Which of your iterations of the cryptid bois is your favorite to draw? Horns-and-frills? Ferrofluid? Just spiky? (I haven’t seen the spiky one for a while.) Which was favorite to design? Are there any fun tidbits about any of them you want to share? I wish to hear as much as you want to share!
This is such a sweet ask aaaa!! ❤️
I feel very differently for all of them. But they're all my sweet little babies!
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I enjoy drawing horns-and-frills the most, they're so beasty~ I also really like their anatomy. Designing them was so fun! Making them into a mer was sooo much fun too hehe
Their jaws and tongue anatomy WAS SO FUN TO MAKE, YOU HAVE NO IDEA!!! I love how on board everyone was with it too pdjddjfh. And of course their big claws on their feet and their tail are very dear to me.
I love that I've been able to so seamlessly combine my love for creature design/anatomy with the dca! I have to give a big shout-out and thanks to @naffeclipse for making such beautiful stories with such wonderful beasts in them. Her writing is the reason why these designs exist in the first place ❤️
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I think I'm the most proud of the ferrofluid boys. I feel it's a solid design and concept. Also it's very fun to explore the possibilities that present themselves when you have a semi-liquid based character. You can shape them however you want! They're liquid, like a cat!
Some fun little things about the ferrofluid boys: (it gets a little gory btw, so light gore warning for that!)
Their skin/surface looks a lot like oil spill, deep black with swirls of colors, mainly red and blue (and yes the colors actually swirl around, the patterns move and shift). The colors are mostly concentratet around their rays, claws and back spikes.
I imagine them being fully "liquid" except for a skeleton holding them up, so their organs and muscles are all the same substance. The skeleton is very thin and jagged. When they're very weak or very hurt you can see their sharp vertebrae sticking out of their back and the goop in their chest drips over and out of their ribs. Also their spikes shrink as they grow weaker, they need energy to hold their shape.
Sorry it got kinda dark there,, :'p
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And my spiky boys! I haven't drawn them in a while, I would like to try again, and maybe redo their design a little. I like them a lot for being my first attempt at a design, I'm also very proud of some of my early pieces I made of them.
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I got two or three more designs that I've only drawn once. I like them but I don't have that much to say about them, I just felt like mentioning that they exist. :p
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Thank you again for this ask! It was so fun to write a little about these designs! I hope you can find my rambling entertaining X3
#aaaa thank you for letting me talk about these guys!!#i could go on for longer but aaaa i don't wanna make this too long#thank you again! how many thanks are that? 3? maybe. anyway thank you!!#cryptid sightings#cryptid!eclipse#ferrofluid cryptid!eclipse#asks#creature design
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I just got into the horned king 😭
I'm on character ai and he tries to get jiggy with it, I can not for the life of me imagine his body frfr
What do you think it'd be? Is there a canon appearance besides his bone face? 😭
I need help lol 😭
- Lucky Katsune
JJFBLFHU ok well thank you for pulling this into the forefront of my blog and brain like the result some kind of hellish lichsimp deep sea fishing reel. (positive)
Starting off with I very much understand the lure of the AI, I did some experimenting with it myself a while back - but honestly once the initial newness of it wears off its a very clunky (and dubious) tool, you're honestly going to get better entertainment from a blank word doc and a no holds barred laugh-yourself-silly discussion over discord as you write.
Secondly, onto the fun part-
(Lich anatomy with pictures and suggestive things under the cut lads, you know the drill. If you don't wanna see stuff don't click.)
The Horned King has no 'canonical' under-robe going on EXCEPT for the very brief frames shown during his death scene, in which the cauldron slurps down his clothes before making him melt and explode and godIwishthatwereme -
(I make NO APOLOGIES for my work choice here this is the HK simp blog you knew what you were getting into under the read more)
What we can see from most of the film is his face appears to be the most decomposed part of him that is visible - his hands are withered but still fully fleshed, and his forearms seem to retain a decent mount of muscle.
From the way his shoes right at the beginning of the film basically move like thick socks, it stand to reason his feet would retain a decent amount of flesh to get that rounded look. I am Not typing 'Horned King Feet' into google again so you're going to have to go without a refeence pic for now. I have limits.
That leaves us with literally everything in between.
i can't get a clearer or better quality shot so I apologise, but this is what we can glimpse mid melting:
Same greyish green tinge and leathery texture for the skin all over his torso, not to mention a decent amount of flesh left overall! His shoulders seem pretty large for a corpse (lets not forget in the books he's a hunter and a warlord) and I struggle to believe he wouldn't know how to use any of the weapons in his castle. Given we can see the curve of his back there's no reason to beleive the flesh coverage doesn't extend all the way down his legs too.
With proof out of the way now we can get onto the fun part!!
I personally like to headcannon that parts of his vertebrae and lower ribs 'peek' through his skin because the more monstrous and rotten the better in my book. He also probably got scars due to the violent job description of being a medieval warlord, undead sorcerer or not.
Corpses do tend to look a little shrink wrapped as they loose moisture and muscle mass, so he's probably on the skinnier side and his joints will protrude a little, especially the hips and knees. Heck just look at the way his hands widen from the wrist bone! That robe is for more than just warmth (wales be chilly), it's making his silhouette larger becuase when they're not swinging weapons at you or barfing up green smoke, decaying bodies actually are pretty small.
Given he's got no eyebrows and no hair peeking out from under he hood, I'd hedge a bet he's hairless all over too.
And lastly I can't find your blog so Idk if you're of an age I feel comfortable discussing NSFT with outright, but safe to say anything between his legs is fair game. You want him with an eggplant? Me too go get em. You want him like a ken doll becuase it fell off a hundred years ago and he never mentally recovered? Sure go for it I know a couple people that headconnon him that way. Skelebussy? Tentacles? Go forth and conquer my dude.
You're having fun so you can literally put whatever the hell you want under his robes as long as you're having a good time. Hope this helped!!
#thalassa responds#the horned king#ty so much for the ask this was really fun!#might have gone a tad overboard but fuckit#I will gladly chat anatomy and references till sunrise#the black cauldron#disney villains#selfship shenanigans
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im normal about his walk sprite i promise
Check out the dev blog for our transgender and gay as hell fishing game -> @vertebrae-entertainment
#sprite animation#fishing game#platformer#gamedev#2d animation#gamers. have you ever wished for a playable transmasc bara#i know i have#thats why im making this game LMAO#i know adding his chest hair is gonna be hell but it will be worth it
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shameless self promotion time!
random Keith birthday fic I am very proud of, trying to win a bet with a friend that it hits 10 kudos before the end of the year
snippet!
...
He could hear Coran’s voice projected loudly through the empty halls.
“YOU CALL THAT WELDING?! WHAT IS THIS YOUR FIRST TIME PICKING UP A BLOWTORCH?! I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW THIS METAL WAS PRESERVED IN THE BELLY OF A BYTOR’S THORAX BY MY GREAT GRANDFATHER FOR THREE ROTATIONS TO GET THIS PERFECT SUBTLE SHINE! AND IT BETTER NOT BE SUBTLE WHEN YOUR THROUGH WITH IT! I WANT THESE TILES GLOWING! PUT YOUR VERTEBRAE INTO IT YOU SICK SON OF A SLOW SLACKING SIAMESE SALAMANDER!”
While Keith was terrified at the idea of seeing what had gotten Coran so worked up, Allura looked quite amused at this display of authority. Her expression reminded him of the look Matt would get when Shiro was caught by Iverson. He wondered if he had the same look on his face whenever he managed to guilt trip Shiro unscathed much to Adam’s disappointment. As they entered (what was left of) the entertainment room Keith couldn’t stop the hysterical laugh that escaped his mouth.
Pidge had on metal clown shoes as big as his head. It looked like she had to walk around with the equivalent of a bowling ball on her feet. Lance was tangled in streamers that seemed to be alive as they jumped out of his reach and wrapped around his arms. Shiro was using his arm to weld a new type of metal into the floor to cover the holes that had somehow gotten there, covered in ash. Hunk was dragging in new pieces of metal and measuring the floor to make sure the materials were the right size. He finally lost it, laughing so much his lungs creaked as Coran whipped around with a megaphone and construction hat on, fixing him with a raised brow and incredulous look, Allura snickering beside him into her hands.
Best. Birthday. Ever.
#2023#voltron#vld#voltron legendary defender#keith kogane#lance mcclain#pidge gunderson#hunk garrett#coran hieronymus wimbleton smythe#vld allura#my fic#my dribble drabbles#fic rec#voltron fanfic#pidge vld#keith vld#lance vld#hunk vld#shiro vld
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Ultrastenos: Narrow Snouted Mekosuchine?
So this one comes with a pretty big disclaimer. Ultrastenos, evenmoreso than any other mekosuchine, is incomplete and enigmatic. Whereas animals like Mekosuchus at least bolster a long research history or at least somewhat complete remains of specific body parts, Ultrastenos is both new and fragmentary. This, combined with ongoing research, means that this reconstruction is just a preliminary one based on current publications and should not be taken as gospel.
Ultrastenos is best known through assorted skull fragments and crania, notably part of the quadrate and quadratojugal, the occiput (back of the skull), an incomplete lower jaw, misc. postcrania like a tibia and vertebrae and some referred skull tables.
Already we enter some weirdness as the type material all stems from the Low Lion Site of the Riversleigh WHA, while the skull tables are from the White Hunter Site (also Riversleigh). Tho they are roughly of the same age, both being late Oligocene, but they are still different localities.
As is apparent both from my recon and the mandible, the lower jaw of Ultrastenos constricted weirdly rapidly, broad at the back and yet narrow towards the front (thus its name, which just means "extremly narrow").
A key issue here is that we don't know how long the rostrum was. We only have it up to the fourth-last tooth, so how long the snout would have continued we don't know. The idea that the snout was short has been entertained, but is deemed unlikely given that the mandible is very shallow. This would instead be more in line with long-snouted animals like gharials.
Size is another point of question. The type material is very small, only about two meters is what I recovered and the paper notes it's "only about as big as a freshwater crocodile", which matches fairly well I'd say. But it is not known whether or not the specimen was actually an adult, so we may find larger individuals in the future.
Which brings us to the disclaimer.
In 2023's "Migrations, diversifications and extinctions: the evolutionary history of crocodyliforms in Australasia", the confusion and uncertainty of Ultrastenos is once more brought up. Some of what is written is what you'd expect, which is that it's enigmatic and the interpretations of Stein et. al. need more research. Logical so far, its undeniably fragmentary and the interpretation is undeniably speculative. The fact that its phylogenetic placement among mekosuchines is a mess is likewise not a surprise. The original tree differs A LOT from more recent results, while the only other tree that included Ultrastenos is that of Rio and Mannion, which I generally avoid personally.
But the interesting nugget is that apparently, a close relative has been found since then which might have a big impact. But this research is still in prep courtesy of Adam Yates (who I've been told will publish the description of the Alcoota Baru soon enough). So will my recon become obsolete? Probably. But I'll update it accordingly once the time comes.
But lets briefly let go of safety and scepticism and consider the possibility that it really was a long-snouted mekosuchine. Aside from some of the anatomical clues like the shallow mandible, sameish teeth and narrow snout, a longirostrine croc would be expected, from the region, would it not? After all, long snouts evolved many times separately in crocs and despite having an incredibly diverse croc fauna, Australia is shockingly lacking in those. The only examples currently known are the Miocene Harpacochampsa, the Pliocene to Pleistocene Gunggamarandu and the current freshwater crocodile. The former two are gharials the later a crocodylid.
Furthermore, the White Hunter Site, if you remember prior posts, was positively teeming with mekosuchines of all different niches. Large semi-aquatic predators like Baru, small semi-aquatic ones like "Baru" huberi and terrestrial forms like Mekosuchus and Quinkana. So to fit in, Ultrastenos must have done something differently, and conveniently a longirostrine nische is still open. So why not.
Illustrations by Joschua Knüppe and Ashley Patch
So that's it. Ultrastenos, the enigmatic, possibly longirostrine mekosuchine of the Riversleigh. Will this post age badly? Maybe, maybe not, we'll see.
Wikipedia: Ultrastenos - Wikipedia
Primary sources:
Stein, Michael; Hand, Suzanne J.; Archer, Michael (26 May 2016). "A new crocodile displaying extreme constriction of the mandible, from the late Oligocene of Riversleigh, Australia". Journal of Vertebrate Paleontology. 36 (5): e1179041. doi:10.1080/02724634.2016.1179041
Ristevski, J.; Willis, P.M.A.; Yates, A.M.; White, M.A.; Hart, L.J.; Stein, M.D.; Price, G.J.; Salisbury, S.W. (2023). "Migrations, diversifications and extinctions: the evolutionary history of crocodyliforms in Australasia". Alcheringa: An Australasian Journal of Palaeontology: 1–46. doi:10.1080/03115518.2023.2201319. S2CID 258878554
#palaeoblr#croc#prehistory#crocodile#paleontology#mekosuchinae#long post#ultrastenos#oligocene#riversleigh
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Note: Ten favorite monsters, part eight. Previous part. The Point is a seriously underrated movie. Catch it if you’re into stuff like The Phantom Tollbooth or Yellow Submarine.
1. Oblina from Aaahh!!! Real Monsters
Tbh, I didn’t really watch this show. Rugrats was and is my fave Nicktoon, so my first exposure to ARM was crossover episode “Ghost Story.” (That, “The Last Babysitter,” and Rugrats in general has great juvenile horror.) But I have a soft spot for female monsters that have “girly” features while still giving grotesque.
2-4. Anglerfish-esque monsters
Dark spider spirit from Avatar: The Legend of Korra: Some kind of arachnid, anyway. Don’t let her teethies fool you. This lady will just yeet anyone spirited away into the Fog of Lost Souls, she hates people so much.
Grand Fisher from Bleach: The Bleach Wiki describes him as “resembl[ing] a giant hamster.” Which is great. Didn’t even think of that. Rats aren’t the only rodents that can scary. But he’s included here because I love monsters that mimic victims’ loved ones.
Frogfish from The SpongeBob SquarePants Movie: SpongeBob has other anglers, like two cute ones from “Rock Bottom,” one of my fave episodes. As with Grand Fisher, I love how the Frogfish uses a biological dummy of sorts as a lure. In this case, its tongue. Bringing to mind the Alaskan Bull Worm.
5. Old Dark Frog from Days with Frog and Toad
This and Bony-Legs were seasonal delights for teeny Tawney. The illustration where he's looming, nay, towering over a chilled Frog was so hair-raising.
6. Brain Eating Meteor from The Grim Adventures of Billy & Mandy
Pretty much exactly what it sounds like. Has one of the best villain songs ever. Thank you, Voltaire.
7. the Demons of Ignorance from The Phantom Tollbooth
It’s like with the Blue Meanies where I can’t pick just one! There’s the Terrible Trivium, of course. But also the barely-there-but-will-bring-you-fear Threadbare Excuse, draconic Two-Faced Hypocrite, etc.
8. the Pointed Man from The Point
Trickster who sounds like a shaken clock. Tumblr sexyman candidate right there.
9. Sadako Yamamura from Ringu
Screenshot’s from Ringu 2. The visage creeping after Mai as she climbs with Yoichi out of the well is based on the forensic reconstruction of Sadako’s corpse.
Localizations are hit or miss for me, but I’ll admit The Ring 2002 was more entertaining. However, I think Sadako’s generally a more interesting villain than Samara.
While Ringu notability took inspiration from Videodrome, it’s its own unique spin combined with Japanese ghost lore.
10. the Tingler from The Tingler
A literal spine-tingler, living on people’s vertebrae. Emits a cardiac, pulsating sound when free roaming and swells after gorging itself on fear.
Note: Eventually, I will try reading the Ring series. I read more murder mysteries than straight-up horror. Might add other Aaah!!! Real monsters to future lists if I ever watch the show proper.
#Oblina#dark spider spirit#Grand Fisher#Frogfish#Old Dark Frog#minors do do not interact#horror#monsters#monster#anglerfish#Brain Eating Meteor#Demons of Ignorance#Pointed Man#Sadako Yamamura#Tingler#Aaahh!!! Real Monsters#Avatar: The Legend of Korra#Bleach#SpongeBob SquarePants#Frog and Toad#Grim Adventures of Billy & Mandy#Phantom Tollbooth#The Point 1971#Ringu#The Tingler#Nickelodeon#Cartoon Network#Avatar#Harry Nilsson#The Ring
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Today's doodles
Na'vi statuette, carved from wood.
We see a LOT of Na'vi craft, but it mostly relies of weaving, bead making, and non figurative wood carving. Even children's dolls are made out of weaved grasses. A na'vi artist discovered the work of an Avatar scientist who was a dedicated wood carver and fell in love with the Na'vi she detailed. The Dream Walker's small, human made carvings were particularly prized as they were impossibly delicate and tiny to the Na'vi. Several Na'vi have such woodcarvings pierced as beads like netsuke and added to their songcord.
The one above was recorded as "Sitting self portrait as I learn" made by the Na'vi artist who popularized the practice.
Those are sketches of Tsawtem. He named himself after the words 'big' and 'change' and embellished it. He's an Ash clan native, hence his enlarged ears and nostrils, as well as a strong, hairless tail. (The notch in it is from a misadventure). A cultural hint of his origins lies in the vertebraes he uses to cover his queue, a common practice among his clan of origin.
Tsawtem doesn't live with that clan however. He left to join a traveling clan of traders. Nomadic Na'vi making their way through Pandora hopping from one clan to another and offering trade of far-away goods, but also, crucially, news, information, stories and songs.
That's what Tsawtem is, a Songcord Singer, a very skilled and specific craft. He replicates songcords taught to him, whether part of a clan's songcord, or that of individuals, alive or dead, and collects them. He learns the songs by heart and shares them as trade knowledge or simply for entertainment.
He has three stooges who play percussions and a duduk-like wind instrument for his more colourful performances. Tsawtem is obviously extremely popular with children.
He had a rough life. He was adopted as a child into a new clan after his was wiped out in a territorial war. Finding he couldn't fit in, he left with a trader clan and renamed himself.
The original sketch for Tsawtem had him dressed with songcords as a shaggy outfit he sways as he dances to his more adventurous songs. I need to work on him further! I love him, he's my first bard ever.
#the songcord#songcord singer#Tsawtem#OC#na'vi#na'vi culture#na'vi OC#pandora#na'vi traditions#made up lore#gen writer curse#atwow#avatar#avatar fanart#fanart
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