CW: intimate whumper, hypnosis I guess? I tried to do it but I have no idea what I’m doing, oh and captivity, dubcon touching
Their vision blurred, hero mumbles something not quite heard, slowly waking up in an unfamiliar room. Turning to the side, they lock eyes with villain.
“Good morning, love~ well, it’s actually evening, you slept a while!”
Hero grumbles, trying to stretch but finding their arms and legs tied down. They panic, straining against the bonds that only tighten as the struggle goes on. After a few moments they give up struggling, and look up at their nemesis.
“Why? Why have you got me here, what do you want?”
‘Why did you touch me like that?’ goes unspoken.
“Is it so hard to imagine that I noticed your desperation for comfort and took you in?”
Hero glares.
“You bound me up. That doesn’t seem very comforting.”
Villain tsks and removes the bonds, enveloping Hero in a tight hug.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d run, but I think even if you want to now, that that won’t last long~”
Mind fuzzy from the warmth and touch of another human, hero simply hums and leans in. They know the other boot will fall soon, surely the catch is coming.
“It’s so hard to resist something you need so deeply isn’t it, love~? You’re already giving in, aren’t you? And it feels so good~”
Circles and lines are rubbed gently into hero’s back, it feels like nothing but the two of them exists here. Hero contemplates thanking villain for this, but stops themselves.
Villain continues to murmur soft promises of attention and love, little praises and tight hugs. Hero feels so loved. Hero feels so happy. Hero feels so much like they would do anything to stay like this. Right? They do feel this way, surely that’s good, surely if they’re good… surely…
TW: pet whump, captivity, intimate whumper, non/dubcon touching, dehumanisation
The pets head lolls back against it's owners chest, it's heart beating ten to the dozen, almost bursting through their ribcage. Whumper lets out a low hum, nuzzling the tip of their nose into the dip of the pets collarbone, arms hooked tight around it's belly.
Zero pressure at all but I desire some modern Auri fuckin people up in their usual ways. How about they make a snack out of a random homeless kid they find on the streets with Erich? They don't have to be mean to them, actually, but y'know, it IS whump...
CW: Vampirism, blood drinking, ~murder!~, Auri being immensely fucking creepy, dubcon touch and kissing, nonexplicit spicy times
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"When Irish eyes are smiling, sure it's like a morn in spring," They sing, voice low and husky, seemingly too deep for their lithe, lanky frame. They move with their head tipped to one side, blood-spattered white-blond hair hanging across cheekbones, sliding smooth as silk against jaw. Their eyes glimmer as they move in and out of shadows, flashing brilliant like a cat's, slit pupils blown wide in excitement.
They walk slowly - the prey runs.
It doesn't matter.
The man stumbles back and away, trips over his pretty rose garden, shaking droplets of water like a whole new kind of rain, scented lightly in a way that makes Auri think of perfume. The world is a heavy, humid fog around them, too warm and yet they feel nothing but the breeze.
They laugh when he falls, watching him scramble to stand. He's up and moving again, sure he'll survive them, but of course it isn't only them he should be worried about, now is it?
"In the lilt of Irish laughter, you can hear the angels sing..."
"Shut up!" He shouts, half-screams, and their laughter rises over the top of it until a light in the grand house behind him turns on. Auri looks up, bathed in darkness, to see a little girl pushing a window up to open it.
"Daddy?"
"G-go back inside, Frances!" The man's voice trembles, and Auri licks at their lips, a shudder of desire for that fear racing down their spine, the thrill of a hunt nearly finished.
"I am inside, Daddy, what's going on?" She can't be more than seven, the pretty thing. Auri looks up at her. "Is Mummy outside there with you? Or... or should I go get her?"
"No!" His voice is less a scream than a shriek, this time, and Auri feels the purr beginning to rumble even though they haven't bitten him yet. "N-no." The man tries to calm himself, and Auri holds perfectly still, all but invisible beneath the shade of some ancient tree, the last of what must have been a forest here, once. Now it's all civilization and boring as fuck. "No, darling. It's just... Daddy was thinking about a scary dream, that's all."
His eyes land on Auri's, and he holds their gaze in a sudden burst of bravery. That English stiff upper lip, they suppose, their own curling back to bare their fangs. The English always did like to say they could stare death down with dignity.
Well.
Auri would see about that.
He keeps their gaze, and repeats, quietly, "It's just a nightmare."
The words are a plea.
The little girl hesitates, then closes her window, and Auri lifts their chin, listening to the faint sound of her little footsteps as she races down the hall to wake her poor dear mum, so soon to find her darling husband dead in the garden.
"Please," He says, softly, putting his hands up to them. Harmless, unarmed, whatever he thinks might engender pity - but they are far too old and merciless for that. This is far too fun a game. "Please, let this be only a dream-... please don't hurt my wife-... my daughter-"
He backs directly into Erich, a solid steady weight. As hard to move from his place as any tree.
When the man spins around with a cry of alarm, Auri leaps.
Their hands curl around his once-strong biceps, their fangs bury into his shoulder, right through the thin fabric of his nightshirt when they misjudge the spot. They spit cotton and have to pull back and grab and tear it right down the seam before they can bite him again, ignoring Erich's mocking laughter as they pull heavy blood thick with gin, laden with overwhelming cheap false juniper, from the wounds they've made.
"What a mighty hunter you are," Erich teases, cruelty in his gaze, watching as they pull the man to his knees in the grass, dew soaking into every ounce of clothing both of them wear. He only watches - his own eyes sparkle bright while he waits.
"Killed you easily enough," Auri hisses, blood smeared around their mouth in a horrific pantomime of lipstick before they lower their head to drink again.
He snorts. "I was not in my right mind at the time."
"Are you ever?"
They take their fill, then rip out his throat just to see the last spray of life's blood before the body goes still. They stand, slowly, swaying from side to side. They're spinning with the gin he'd had in his veins, and the empty bottle lies on its side not far away. The smile they give Erich is loose, and they exhale in a sound not quite unlike a moan.
"Drunk," They say, as if discovering a new revelation.
"I'm shocked to hear it," He replies, kicking the dead man onto his back to see the way his eyes are still white-rimmed in horror. "He smells like a liquor store." Lights come on in the house behind them, cries for the father and husband who now cannot hear them. The little girl and her mother. Auri licks their lips, only to see Erich shake his head.
For once, they listen, and wonder who else, in other yards, is out in the middle of the night for the taking.
"I wanted children," Erich says suddenly, looking in the direction of the door, as if he will simply stand here and wait for it to be open. "Before the war. Before I fought, before everything around me died. I wanted children, and a family, and-"
"And I wanted to study with Botticelli," Auri replies, grabbing him by the hand and tugging him away. "You see how our dreams come true."
He can't resist their wants - he follows them all but helplessly, and they giggle as they hear the first screams when the man's body is found.
"Tell me he was wicked," Erich says, in a burst of earnest and sudden self-disgust. "This man I helped you to kill. Tell me he was wicked, like the others have been."
Auri is silent, focused on trying to walk steadily when their blood seems to slosh like the last of a bottle in a bar passed around the regulars. They make it to the road at the end of the drive before Erich spins them around, puts his hands to either side of their face, and looks them in the eyes.
"Tell me he was wicked," He whispers. "Evil. Tell me he deserved to die."
Auri stares right back, then leans forward and kisses him, opening their mouth until he licks the blood back off their lips, until they feel him shudder, his dead body coming to life. "He was evil," They say, only slurring their words a little. "And he deserved t'die. Better?"
"Are you lying?"
"Does it matter?"
He growls and they bark laughter right back, pulling him across the road and into someone else's yard, shoving him onto his back on the ground and climbing on top of him, straddling his thighs with their knees on either side.
"Auri-"
"Sssshhh." They press a finger to his lips, looking up to listen as the sounds of sirens begin to wail in the distance, coming ever closer. "We're going to listen to their agony, Erich., as they see him."
"I don't want to hurt innocent people-"
"But you will." They pull his head down to their neck, feel the way he starts to open his mouth by instinct before, with difficulty, he manages to pull it back again. "No. Nein. I said drink."
"You didn't say-"
"I say it now. Drink."
Their fingers bury into his short dark hair, the occasional hint of gray showing through. "When Irish hearts are happy," They sing in a whisper against his ear as his teeth just barely graze their skin, fighting with all he has, "all the world seems bright and gay..."
"You are not Irish," He hisses back. The fresh blood in them smells maddeningly good, though, they can tell - his mouth is watering, his pupils widening, overtaking his iris and lust is overwhelming all his silly remaining morality. Their commands are overriding any hint he has of an ability to control himself. "We are both German."
"No such thing as Germany when I was born," Auri says, laughing again. "We are both dead, Erich, and that is all that matters. Feed from me, meine Liebe-"
"Don't call me that." He hissed and then gave in.
He bit into them viciously, tearing open the side of their neck, and they had to muffle their cry of pleasure with a fist shoved into their own mouth as the stolen blood burst free to fill his.
Even still, they heard from across the street a woman's anguished voice call, "Did you hear that sound?"
They almost can't help the laughter, even as Erich's hands make quick work of their jeans, yanking them down their hips and discarding them to one side, his own pants pulled halfway down his thighs while he still has his fangs buried in their neck.
"For your smile is a part of the love in your heart," they sing in a half-whisper as they spread their legs for him.
"Shut up," He growls, as they lock their ankles behind his back and jam their heels into his skin.
"And it makes sunshine even more bright-"
He jams his hand over their mouth to stop them, and they bite those fingers hard until he groans and lets go again, both of them smeared in red, moving in unison.
They'd been ready for him from the second they had bitten the poor asshole who'd had the bad luck to have insomnia too close to a hungry monster.
By the time he starts to lose himself, hips rocking with abandoned thrusts that would have broken the living, both of them are purring and he has their hands in his, shoved above their head. Their fingers brush a dandelion, yellow as the sun even in the darkness. Friction rubs, pleasure building and building, coiling a spring that soon must snap.
They come with a burst of laughter, and though he glares his body follows their commands effortlessly, even the wordless ones, and he finishes inside them.
Across the street, their laughter drifts, sparkling and brilliant as shards of glass waiting to be stepped on. Men and women standing around a corpse look up, and then run towards it.
The police find nothing but the impression of a human figure in wet grass, and blood from the dead man across the street spilled on the ground.
Whumpee in their whumper’s lap, their hair being stroked languidly, their eyes half-lidded. They’re held loose in their arms. The whumper’s breath warms their neck in soft puffs. Gentle violences like this don’t come very often.
▶yeezy, my guy, my yeet man, give your pet some cuddles. It what he needs and wants despite his violent protests :)
EDIT: No longer a canonical story, but the whump is all yours <3
CW | NSFW (semi-explicit), somewhere between noncon and dubcon, drugging (aphrodisiac)
The human was still present enough even through the fog of the eadh to realize that the slow, dawning smile that spread across Yeezumon's face was meant for him. He saw it in the way those pretty, mud-brown eyes flickered between him and the deck hatch and back again.
It backed as far as it could into the corner of the cot even though its movements were as thick and slurred as its words, "Stay away from me."
For what it was worth, it put up a valiant fight. But soon Yeezumon was leaning against the far end of the cot, with the human's strange, solid warmth nestled against his chest.
"The̶re,̵ ̶t̵hat̷'̵s no̵t so̷ bad̶," he chided softly.
Every single inch of its body was tense against his, breaths coming sharp and shallow where its back was pressed into his stomach. Blunt fingertips dug harshly into his wrists, but it couldn't stop his second set of hands from roving slowly over its skin.
Even though it was clearly in distress agitated, he knew how the eadh worked. After all, useful as it was as a sedative, the ifrit used it first and foremost as...well, for more recreational activities.
So, he bode his time. Yeezumon continued his gentle touch, running his fingertips across the smooth arc of its wrists and forearms. Its breath hitched when he undid the small tie holding its tunic closed, fingertips skimming beneath the fabric to run across its shoulders, its collarbone, and then slowly downward across the planes of its chest.
Beneath his palm, he could feel it's heart pounding against his hand.
One hand trailed back up to the dip of its throat, applying only the lightest threat of pressure as he tilted its head up to look at him.
It looked like a baby bird that had hit a pane of glass. Its eyes were dark and dazed, pupils blown out so wide that only the barest sliver of brown remained around their edges.
A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth.
"T̵hat̴'s it̴," he soothed, "Yo̷u̶ li̷ke t̴hat̵,̴ ̴d̷o̵n̶'̴t yo̶u̶?̶"
Without releasing his loose grip on its throat, his other hands continued their slow exploration of his pet's body. While he still occasionally came across something that made its fingers twitch and breaths stutter, bit by bit it began to relax into Yeezumon's embrace.
With the same inevitable patience as rock eroding beneath the tide, the weight of its limbs settled fully against him, melting against his lap. Its breaths slowed and evened out, a single shuddery breath escaping its lips as it sunk against him.
It blinked slowly, heavily, as his thumb swept over the soft skin beneath its eyes. The small, permanent furrow between its brows deepened, twitched, and then unraveled beneath his touch.
The human's eyes fluttered at the tone of his voice, then turned away almost out of guilt. Even though it didn't understand his words, a flush still rose from under its skin at the tone of it.
Yeezumon bit his tongue, keeping the rest of his remarks to himself, and simply enjoyed the weight of a body against his own. He tilted his head back as the bunk beginning to gently sway beneath them, fingertips still resting just over the slowing thud-dum, thud-dum of its pulse.
“you love me just enough so i won’t leave.” - Hayko? Pretty please???
This one was quite a trip!
CW. intimate whumper, dubcon touching/kissing, implied stockholm syndrome, handcuffs that aren't used, psychological captivity
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The final suitcase landed and a little pool of dust jumped in the air. Hayko watched it swirl, lit up by the faint streak of light coming from the window that made it look like fine, gold sand. In the chill of the lodge, there were few things he could grab onto to warm himself with.
“That is the last one I think,” Vladimir said after dropping it. But two more suitcases ended up being dragged in when he went to check. Nick turned and quipped about him needing a better prescription. Then, came an awful screech of wheels against the floorboards that made Hayko grate his teeth.
He didn’t drag in anything more than his share. He knew, once he’d woken up, that they were on the road to somewhere far enough that there would be no more gunshots. No more news. No more phone calls and late night ‘jobs’ and living in fear that a nail bomb might be under his porch.
No more ghosts, whispering in his head that his hands were soaked in blood. No more ignoring them until they suffocated him.
“You alright there, love?”
Hayko flinched and looked at where the rough British lilt was coming from. During the car ride, Nick hadn’t talked much. Near silence in fact, one mile after another so his voice sounded grainier now but the effect on him hadn’t changed.
“I’m okay.”
“Then come help us unpack.”
He lifted himself slowly, afraid that if he stood up too fast he would stop breathing altogether. Inching towards his suitcase, he crouched to unzip it but paused when the first thing that popped out was a coil- two coils of metal, shining in the streak of sunlight.
Hayko stilled.
He hadn’t moved for a minute when his body grew cold. He took a slow breath, keeping his eyes on the handcuffs despite the shadow. The silence was filled by haphazard scuffling of feet, zippers, grunts, the faint rumble of the engine still going outside. He could almost hear a chirping from the woods over the rush of blood in his ears.
“You packed this?” Hayko asked numbly, reaching out to touch the now warm metal. It stung at first, fading under his fingertips as he shivered.
Nick hummed in affirmation. He set his hands on Hayko’s shoulders, squeezing them when he tensed up. “Don’t take it personally. I’m obviously not going to-”
“You just can’t leave me alone,” he gritted out. The two circles grew hot, flush against his fingertips. “It’s been-... you still don’t trust me?” Hayko swallowed against a painful sheet of dryness, a pang of hurt in his chest.
Nick scoffed and tightened his fingers enough that the shoulder muscles relaxed on cue. Don't get angry. There was silence again, pushed against by their shallow combined breaths. “It’s not that I don’t trust you.”
“You think I’m going to run.”
“Of course not.”
Hayko barked out a laugh whose vibrations didn’t go further than Nick’s hands. He felt his inside shaking, a perpetual, cold shudder that slowly heated the longer he stared at the handcuffs.
A full two years earlier was the last time he’d seen any action with them. Afterwards, negotiation on negotiation. Terms and conditions for general freedom. Differing consequences for disobedience that didn’t involve being cuffed to the foot of a bed.
When he refused to be his, refused to do his job until Nick had made him, cursed and spat that he wasn’t his, he wasn’t a criminal like him only for the affirmations to go underwater as soon as he got comfortable.
And now it was back to square one - his victim.
Hayko noticed his voice shaking and kept it low, still touching the handcuffs. “You don’t trust me.”
He felt small breaths on the back of his neck coming in little puffs. Nick’s hands were fixed on his shoulders and he wondered how much harder the man was willing to press before they bruised him. Knowing him, he was willing to press even beyond that as long as the result looked pretty. Suddenly, they loosened, fell away, and Hayko braced himself.
A shadow fell on his face once Nick crouched at his level. Hayko resolved not to look at him, not until he was forced to.
Little rebellions like those kept him afloat.
“Look at me,” Nick said quietly, betraying no real anger or frustration. Nonetheless, an order was an order and Hayko knew that better than anybody else.
He wearily met Nick’s eyes, his touch staying on the handcuffs as if leaving them would leave himself vulnerable. Hayko could have laughed at the flash of that thought, the idea that he wasn’t already.
Nick sighed and raised a hand to Hayko’s cheek, touching the scarring there gently. “You know that I love you. You know that I’ll kill for you - have, actually. That I’ll sacrifice whatever, whoever, needs to go for you to stay with me. You know that. I don’t need to remind you.”
Hayko listened, grimacing slightly if at all.
He knew that. Nick had made sure he wouldn't forget.
“But what I know is that your fire isn’t gone, beautiful. You’re a fighter, and a crafty one at that, and if that means I’ll need to chain your pretty wrists until you shake off whatever instinct you have to run away from me,” Nick said, keeping his strokes over his scars gentle, “then I will do that.”
Hayko listened, not entirely as the rest of his mind was occupied with the scratching of suitcases and automatically leaned into the gentle kisses against his scars. “But you love me.”
Nick quirked a small smile and nothing more. The hand wrapped around the back of Hayko’s head and he leaned in.
Hayko didn’t freeze this time. He turned his head until the kiss just grazed his cheek, far enough away from his lips. Far enough from the hurt, like they were right now. He felt Nick stop too and for once,
didn't let his terror overtake his courage.
“You love me just enough so I won’t leave.”
Nick didn’t seem blunted by the avoidance. He thought for a moment then, unfazed, leaned in and kissed his cheek. Soft with a hint of sandalwood. Chaste. “It’s working though, isn’t it?”
Hayko gave him a sudden look. The anguish in it shimmered too shallow to be hidden and he needed to hold back the emotion threatening to burst.
The satisfaction he saw under Nick's soft smile made him too sick to move.
“Yes,” he whispered.
"Then kiss me."
It’s working though, isn’t it?
It had for nearly two years. Hayko pressed harder into the kiss, put his own hand around Nick's head and pulled himself closer so he wouldn't feel the heat of the tears when they broke.
I guess you know what we would like to see😉. In the end Auri promised him to be there😇
CW: Auri is a creepy motherfucker, dubcon/noncon touching implied, uh, dubcon... licking...? Look I said they're creepy right
The sky through his window is a blurred blend of red clouds and the last light of day above the canopy of the trees when Erich turns his head, looking out. A crow, or something very like one, takes flight - nothing but a black smear and wings, like a drop of ink in a pool of blood.
There is a weight on him, lukewarm, and he groans, softly. He hurts. Everything aches, his gums throbbing most of all. He runs his tongue over his teeth, finding the new fangs there, grown in hours what had taken him as a child days and days.
His stomach growls.
"I know you're awake," They whisper against his ear, nipping at it with their own fangs, one hand moving over his chest and down his stomach. He looks away, only to have them take his chin and turn it back, forcing his eyes to meet their eyes.
The glimmer in the light doesn't seem so otherworldly anymore. Maybe just because he knows his own eyes now do the same.
"Welcome to the world, newborn babe," Auri Saathoff whispers, delighted in him, in his very existence. No one has been happy Erich Eeten is around for a long, long time.
He blinks at them, and then his head drops back onto his lumpy pillow. He'd made it himself, when he moved out here. He'd been proud of it, then. "I am a grown man of thirty-eight-"
"You're an infant and little more. How do you feel?"
He keeps his eyes closed. "I ache. And... I'm hungry."
Auri hisses softly in excitement, their tongue lapping affectionately along his neck, where the wounds they made have long since been healed. Erich can smell old, dried blood - his own, and theirs - staining his shirt. He shivers at the way it feels to have that rough, cool tongue move against his skin. "There are other people who live in the woods," Auri murmurs. "We can find them. You should feed in the woods, it's a good place to begin. I'll show you what to do."
Erich doesn't want to move. His limbs feel leaden, and yet - his stomach growls. It needs. It is empty, it demands blood. His mouth waters at the very thought of another explosion of taste and heat and life inside of him. "I don't want to kill anyone."
Auri pauses, and when Erich looks at them, they're pouting. "Not even one person?"
"Not in the-... the woods. They have been kind to me." He takes their hand and pulls it to his mouth. He feels nothing when he kisses their knuckles. No heat, no life, no nourishment. Just skin. "We can kill in the town. They salute the growing darkness."
"We must show them, then, how much they will miss the light when it is gone," Auri says, excited, and they shift, swinging a leg over him until they sit on his hips again, their palms pressing just inside his shoulders. "Town, then. We will be so good together, Erich."
Erich doesn't have the energy to snort in response. He keeps his eyes closed, and after a breath of time he feels their mouth move against his neck again. "I'm dead, what good could it do-"
Their fangs slide in, and his eyes fly open, wide, staring up at the darkening ceiling that he can see each detail of, as if it were midday.
"Wh-what-"
"There's no blood to be had from you now," Auri murmurs, licking just to feel him shiver. "But it feels so good, doesn't it?" They bite down again, and this time Erich moans.
