#AU hoard

[bluegiragi]

negotiations.

early access + nsfw on patreon

[thegnomelord]

just read about demon hunter reader and demon ghost cuddling, and the first thing i thought was how ghost would react if, one of these times, reader ends up having a wet dream and dry humping his ass 😋

about time that our demon thinks of getting laid, he's disgusted and turned on at the same time

Sorry this took a while lads :Dd, I'm getting back into writing after all that shit with my school but I got a summer job as an assistant medical worker with 12h shifts every other day so It might take a bit for me to write stuff.

Hush, Hunter

CW:NSFW, MDNI, demon Simon Ghost Riley x male hunter reader, grinding, wet dreams, handjob, blowjob, size difference (demon ghost is like 11 feet tall.)

Your ‘husband’ is strange, even by demon standards.

He grumbles about the inconvenience brought on by your mortal failings and fragility, growling whenever you have to stop at a gas station to buy food or at some dingy motel to sleep. He grumbles even more about being confined in the stolen human skin suit he's forced to wear to blend in.

You can ignore the stranger with the stolen face and hellfire eyes throwing dark glares at you for the most part, except for when the demon decides to make the binding ring around your finger heat up when you spend too long talking to the pretty cashier. And it only takes a few more seconds of not paying heed to the incessant burn before Ghost Simon looms behind you, glaring at the flustered cashier like she’s a fey trying to trick you into the Fey Lord’s court.

And the big bastard never gives you any explanation on why he’s acting like that, just drags you back to your car, slamming the doors closed with enough strength to shake the entire vehicle. He’s like a cat honestly; hisses at you, but doesn’t want to let you out of his sight or claws.

But when your nightmares get so bad your only chance of sleeping is on the floor, well hidden behind the bed with your back flush with the dingy motel wall, Ghost surprises you by laying down with you. Sure he grumbles about the demeaning position - laying like some mongrel dog - but he still does it.

Ghost is on his side, his broad muscular back to you, rough inky scales swallowing all the moonlight that filters through the blinds and turning him into a pitch black wall of muscle. He’s so still you might even think he’s sleeping – you know he’s not; demons aren’t tied to mortal laws, nor are they subject to time’s iron grip, that’s what makes hunting demons so dangerous. The only indication you have that he’s awake is the occasional twitch of his tail and the slight shuffle of his wings when you accidentally get closer to him in your attempt to get a comfortable position.

You flinch when his one wing spreads out and back, but the blanket of black and blood dyed feathers soon eases the tension in your body. Probably too quickly, definitely too quickly, but Ghost doesn’t draw attention to it and neither do you and the night is cold and he is blissfully warm and he stays stock still when you shuffle a bit closer. You're glad he pays no attention to you when you get comfortable against him, barely an inch of space between you two.

His feathers tickle your face, they’re softer than you’d expect a wrath demon to have, fluffy like the down of chicks. His scent invades your nose, rough leather and steel oil and something distinctly demonic you can’t name. . . but it’s strangely comforting.

Laying only an inch or two away from a demon goes against everything you’ve ever been taught. Your nerves should be on a razor’s edge, but instead you’re calm. You don’t know why your fucked up mind finds comfort in the fact a possible threat would need to go through half a ton of murderous wrath demon to get to you. And you don’t want to think about it either, you’ve had far too many sleepless nights for your brain to care how you manage to sleep so long as you do. And the moment you close your eyes, you’re out like a light.

Ghost has gotten used to your nightmares.

Just like his father’s absent love, your nightmares are consistent. He’s almost impressed how such a frail thing like you could hunt the likes of hydras and Hell Dukes when you barely sleep a wink most nights. The longest you’ve gone is a couple of hours of restful sleep before you woke up trying to claw your eyes out. You never talk about it, nor does he, Ghost may be a demon but he knows far too well how the mind can haunt someone.

And Ghost has gotten good at telling apart the individual nightmares by how you squirm in your sleep.

It takes a little longer for the nightmare to start than usual, but he knows you’re neck deep in it when you heart starts it’s frantic drumming in your chest. He ruffles his feathers as your hands grip his sides, your breath fanning over his skin. He thinks it might be the basilisk haunting you this time by the way you press yourself flush with his back, burying your face into the space between his shoulder blades until your nose is flush with his spine, back hunching to further shield your eyes.

Ghost doesn’t, nor will he ever, mention the low happy rumble that escapes him when you snuggle up to him. His feathers fluff up, the scratchy hair of his tail flattening down - about as silk soft as he can make them. It’s little better than throwing pearls before swine, you won’t remember any of this after all, but doing this strangely doesn’t feel as much of a burden as it should.

Usually the low deep purring growling will chase away your nightmares and lull you into a dreamless sleep for a little while, but not this time. You squirm against his back like an eel, muscles tensing to grip his sides until dregs of pain dance along his spine. Your breath fans across his scales, your heart pounding in his ears like that of a rabbit’s caught in a snare. He’s just about ready to turn around and wake you before he feels it—

Your arousal pokes his back, hard like iron.

Only now does he pick up the slight sweetness of arousal in your adrenaline rich scent. “Hm- fuck.” You mumble as you roll your hips to grind your cock against him. “Slow- fuck fuck- slow down.” You breathe out, and Ghost swears this must be another part of his father’s eternal punishment. The sudden thought that your dream is of a sexual nature smites him with all the intensity of his father’s rage.

Who do you think you are, taking his little mercies for granted? Who do you think you are, grinding against him like some mongrel mutt? Who do you think you are holding him as if you are more than the eventual reward for the maggots fervent prayers? Who do you think you are—

“Ghost- Simon. . .” His name, his original name, leaves your lips; it’s the softest he’s ever heard you speak.

“Human.” He seethes and rolls around, pushing the warm feeling –warm like a campfire compared to the blistering pits down below that usually dwell in his chest– out of his mind. “Disgusting.” You’re so small compared to him, your head could easily fit in his rough hand, a momentary lapse in the binding’s protection all that it would take for his flesh rending claws to cleave through your skull. He’s thought about it often, of the look in your eyes as your life fades, of how good your blood would taste, of how nice your shoulder would look with his teeth marks on it. . .

His hand is gentle as he reaches to brush your cheek, like he’s handling glass, rumbling when you lean into the touch. “Wretched thing.” He growls, hand sliding from your cheek to your back and pulling you close. He feels you nuzzle into his wide chest, carefully bullying his thigh between yours, steel hard muscle tensing to give you a good surface to grind on. “Nothing more but a mongrel waste of flesh.” He doesn’t notice how quickly his voice has lost heat, barely above a murmur as he listens to your breathless gasp and watches your back arch.

For someone usually so guarded, you are painfully naked in flesh and soul, responding so wantonly to his touches; from low moans to soft little murmurs of ‘Simon’ and ‘more’ that has him mindlessly rubbing his thigh against your crotch in hopes of getting more of those so painfully human sounds. You moan and nuzzle into his chest, your body like soft clay in his hands now that you’re no longer shackled by the chains of pride and prejudice that your mind conjures around him

You’re like a strange bug to him; a part of him wants to pin you down, to tear you apart with vicious claws and see if there’s anything different in the way your heart beats, in the way your lungs move, in the way you exist — something substantial to show why holding you in his arms doesn’t feel as degrading as it should.

He wonders, briefly, if this is what God saw that made him love Adam so much. Why God did not have the heart to kill Adam for his disobedience.

Greed moves his hands like they’re puppets on strings, flesh rending claws carefully tracing the bumps of old and fresh scars that dot your abdomen — perhaps you aren’t so pathetic, it takes strength to survive this long. Your skin prickles from his touch, your breath fanning over the rough belly scales protecting his front as his hand slowly moves down. He hooks a claw under the band of your underwear and pulls down until your cock springs out right into Ghost’s hand.

Ghost hasn’t seen many cocks before, why would he?, but a low sound comes from his chest at how neatly your cock fits in his hand, how neatly all of you fit against him. And only now does it dawn on him that he doesn’t know how to do this— he’s a wrath demon for fuck’s sake, he understands war and bloodshed like it’s the back of his hand, but this? This is new territory.

Well, he’s never been one to back down when he’s gotten this far.

His hand slowly closes into a fist, just a little loose around you. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t be anything but gentle in the way he strokes you. Your hips move on their own, gentle little rocks to fuck your cock into his fist and he follows along with the motion. It’s a little rough at first, he feels how the dry slide of his hand makes you shiver, but he soon finds a nice pace as your precum eases the glide of flesh on flesh.

He wants to see your face when you moan, but he can’t bring himself to pull you away from his chest when you cling to him so sweetly, your lips mindlessly ghosting over his scales. So he contends himself with coiling his tail around your leg, draping a wing over you so there’s a barrier between you and the rest of the world, so no creature from heaven high or deep below may entertain the thought of taking what’s his.

No good thing lasts for long.

He feels you wake like the first thaw in spring, slow and gradual, eyes fluttering open, mind still clouded with pleasure to really understand the position you’re in. He takes advantage of that, gripping your hip to keep you close, swirling his tumb in the precum beading at your head and squeezing his hand just right to coerce a breathless moan from your chest.

Then your eyes snap open, realisation hitting you with the same intensity as the punch you throw at his skull. But the ‘marriage’ turns that show of force into a gentle caress of the skull cheek of his ‘face’. “Ghost what the fuck are you-” You begin, cut off as another clench of his hand has you gripping his forearm and biting your lip to silence yourself. 

“Oh hush hunter.” Ghost rumbles low in his throat, his wing tensing behind your back to bring you in closer, soft blood dyed feathers encasing you in a cocoon of warmth against his cool belly scales. “No need to wake the other worms.” Disdain and mockery drip from his voice like molasses, yet strangely it doesn’t feel aimed at you. . . it must just be the pleasure making you believe that.

“You- bastard!” You snarl, trying to summon the hunter savagery that had been meticulously beaten into you, but it slumbers like a fat cat. “Fuck off- get away from me.” You aim to slam your fist against his scaled abdomen, just a little lower and to the side where the floating ribs should be, but all you manage is a slow caress of his side and back up his chest where you can feel his eternal soul burning beneath the flesh.

He laughs and slides his hand down, rolling your balls in his wide hand and squeezing just enough to be at the edge of pain– shit, that should not feel so good. You hiss and throw your head back despite the inherent danger of exposing your throat. He tilts his head down, ghostly breath washing over your ear, “We both know if you wanted this to stop you would have done so.” Oh, now you can just feel the mockery in his voice, sweet like honey that it is.

Some petulant part of you thinks of arguing, anything to retain what remains of your damn pride, but then he slides his hand back up, pressing your cock against your stomach and grinding the palm of his hand against your shaft and all the thoughts of arguing are pushed to the side by the tide of pleasure. Fuck, it’s been far too long since you ‘took care’ of things, it’s not like you have much time to wank off, let alone with Ghost hanging over your shoulder like some grim reaper. And hell, if any other hunter heard you let a damn demon jack you off, yours would be the next head put on the stake but. . . but Ghost is surprisingly gentle with you, not a single hint of pain coming from his touches, not even from his claws gently running down your side.

“Fine-” You suck in a sharp breath, head fixed to stare directly at his chest. “Make it quick.”

You feel him smirk against your ear, “As you wish, hunter.” He laughs lowly, like you’re nothing but a cute puppy chewing on his shoelaces, “Though, you should thank me for debasing myself like this.” He growls, and with a sharp move of his wing he rolls you on your back. 

You gasp as your back hits the sleeping mat, and before you can even struggle Ghost looms over you, a wall of muscle and dark scaled flesh. “Fuck no.” You growl, some scraps of pride still clinging to your mind, though even those are threatened when his broad hand returns to stroking your cock, faster this time, the drag of his palm making pleasure sizzle up your spine. Your head rolls back to rest on the mat and you don’t even notice when you close your eyes. You’re not sure how Ghost is so good at this, something sharp like jealousy curling in your stomach at the thought of him doing this to someone else. But it’s hard to think when you can feel and hear him purring, his claws gently tracing your stomach and leaving lingering heat everywhere they touch.

You jump as something slick brushes over your balls, “Look, good hunter.” He growls and you listen without thought, eyes wide when you see his tongue— it extends from the darkness of his head just beneath the rotten upper teeth of his skull, long, black, thick strings of oil coloured spit dripping off his tongue. “That’s better,” He purrs; you’re not sure how he can talk, and you’re unable to ask because he leans in closer until your cock rests against his skull, his hellfire eyes burning in the darkness and giving just enough light for you to see his long black tongue curl around your base like a snake. 

Shit– he wants to kill you.

“Holy fuck Ghost-” You breathe out, lungs burning before you remember how to breathe. His tongue moves, squeezing your base and sliding lower to lap at your balls. You’re forced to bite your finger to stop the painfully pathetic sound burning on your tongue.

He stops moving and you’re thankful he doesn’t mention the whine that slips past your lips. “Simon.” He demands, oily spit clinging to your skin and making it tingle with heat.

“Simon.” You nod along dumbly, “Fuck- Simon.”

“Good.” You imagine he’s smiling when he says that, his hand returning to stroke your cock in reward. “Call me that again.” He says, a purr rumbling in his chest and you can’t help but moan at how the vibrations travel through his tongue, making it act like a vibrating toy.

Your hands fly to grip his horns, the pleasure making you throw your head back yet you try to keep your eyes on him, hiccuping his name between harsh breaths. He doesn’t mind the touch on his horns, leaning into the touch before flicking his tongue at your taint. He rewards you for each time you say his old name, tongue and hand working in tandem to slowly and steadily march you towards release. 

You try to tug on his horns to warn him, or maybe to pull him away, but he pays no heed; he doubles his efforts, wetly slurping at your balls and base while his hand toys with your crown, his free hand holding your hips down so all you can do is weather the pleasure until you’re finally pulled under the waves. “Simon-” You gasp, cum spurting all over his hand and your stomach. 

You watch through lidded eyes as he retracts his hand, keeping his gaze on you as he lazily licks up your cum from his hand. “Better than I expected.” He rumbles, more to himself than you, leaning up to drag his long slimy tongue across your stomach to gather up all your cum.

 Shit, that sight got you hard again before you could even soften.

You’re not sure if the greed you see spark in his eyes makes you scared or even harder, but you’re not left any room to think further about it before his tongue wraps around your cock again.

Unfortunately for you, demons have no concept of time as mortals know it, so his ‘quick’ ends up being the entire rest of the night. At one point you get to the point you’re sure Ghost is trying to kill you with all the pleasure, spit polishing your cock until he’s satisfied and by that point the sun is rising and your voice is hoarse.

You can’t meet the gaze of the motel receptionist in the morning, but Ghost Simon, looks smug like the cat who ate the canary.

[kiebs-creative-corner]

Have modern siren au zosan 🥰🥰🥰🥰

Sanji's tail is two different blues because I couldn't choose which to go with (so I ended up making a gradient between the two in my other post lol)

[psychotic-nonsense]

"I'm sorry."

It's the first thing Steve says after everything.

After getting Vecna Cursed. After nearly dying. After a hallucination of Eddie saved him. After running through a looped forest. After finding sanctuary in Steve's memory of that Starcourt bathroom. After Eddie reveals himself as Eddie.

It's the only thing he can think of. It's not big enough to fit everything, but it's the only thing that fits in his mouth.

"Don't be."

Maybe that's the only thing Eddie can think of too. The only thing Eddie can bear to say.

Because don't be can't stop Steve's eyes from watering when he sees the vest in his closet. Don't be can't stop Steve's feet from dragging him to the cemetery every evening to clean Eddie's graffiti-covered tombstone. Don't be can't stop Steve from sitting beside Wayne and listening to him talk about the Eddie he remembers. Don't be can't stop Eddie's body from showing up in Steve's dreams, nor Eddie's corpse from his nightmares. Don't be couldn't keep the pain away enough, didn't stop Vecna from latching onto it while Steve was walking alone in the woods.

Don't be isn't enough for what Steve wants to hear. But even stuck here waiting, hoping, for someone to get Steve out, there just isn't enough time.

"I miss you."

"...Why?"

Eddie says it back so quickly, so quietly, like it's just unfathomable to him. Maybe it is, considering their last memories. But their eyes meet and he looks just as sad, just as longing, as Steve.

"You were my friend."

Steve can't help but say it like that. Like they were friends for years instead of days. Like Eddie was that important to him in their final moments. Like his heart really aches for Eddie every second of the apocalypse.

Can't help but say it like he means it.

"I wish we could've had more time..."

Steve's voice cracks a little there as he turns away, hiding. It's all he wants. It's all Vecna used to entice him with. It's all that's keeping him going, to finally fulfill the last request Eddie made. It's all he has left to feel close to Eddie.

The Eddie that's sitting right next to him, silent, his sight weighing on Steve's skin. Conscious and aware and the real Eddie. Trapped in Vecna's head as a backup power source, yet who still risked everything to come save Steve. Who Steve will never see again because killing Vecna means killing Eddie for good, and his heart doesn't want it, is begging for another solution...

But for once, his broken head overpowers his shattered heart.

"Maybe we did."

Eddie takes Steve's hand. Meets Steve's surprised look with his own small smile of hope. They're both suddenly tearing up, eyes glistening with life in this gray stall.

"Maybe in another world, we got a second first chance. A first second chance. Maybe even a third, or fourth. Maybe in a different life, we had everything we wanted. Because you, Steve Harrington, are too good for me to be doomed to meet just once."

And for a moment, Steve sees it. Feels it. Versions of them connected through the universe.

Little kids playing in the lake. One with bruised skin and shaved hair, loud but unfathomably lonely. One with a bruised heart and soft eyes, timid but stubbornly hopeful.

A rockstar with glittering chains, center stage in the spotlight. A set of eyes in the crowd or behind the curtain, watching only him.

A werewolf and a vampire, two cryptids of horror, meeting in the dead of a full moon night to feel safe with the only other one who understands.

A future where they won, where the only death was the one that mattered. A process of healing and learning, coming home to a family every single day.

A world without pain, without their hell, where two high schoolers found freedom from their shackles and company in each other. Hiding away together in the dark corners of the town.

Steve even sees other versions of them. Versions that he knows were originally never supposed to meet, yet forces so much greater than them pulled them together.

A metalhead drug dealer, constantly getting into trouble with one nail-bat-weilding cop.

A criminal's fugitive nature leading him to a rugged trailer park, and the dangerous owner within one such home.

An eccentric king in an old coliseum, always choosing one particular warrior as his champion.

A young programmer being pulled away from his work by sobs above his apartment, running upstairs to check on the law student that recently moved in.

Two actors, finding an easy friendship in the months of filming one season of a show that would change their lives.

In that moment, Steve's overwhelmed by the closeness he suddenly feels with the soul beside him. Falling into tears, he pulls Eddie into a tight hug, holding him so so close to convey everything he can't say. Feeling Eddie hold him back, hearing everything Eddie can't say in return.

Familiar music comes on outside the stall. Robin's voice calls out to him, telling him to come home.

And when he does leave, Steve hopes that someone out there will understand that he never can. Because here in Eddie's arms is the only place that will ever truly feel like home.

"Thank you... for everything, Eddie."

Thank you, Steve. For everything and more..."

--------------------

- List of AUs, in order, after, "Versions of them connected through the universe": Childhood Friends / Rockstar!Eddie / Werewolf!Steve & Vampire!Eddie / Eddie Survives / No Upside Down & High School

- List of Multiverse Steddie AUs, in order, after, "...yet forces so much greater than them pulled them together": Eddie x Gator / Baron x Michael / Geta x Sean / Keys x Eric / Quinn and Keery

[majimasleftasscheek]

starting my millionth playthru of new vegas and I got a new AU 💕💕💕

[baskeigh-ball]

sunset duo my beloved <3 separated!raph would be super impressed with mikey’s artistic skill (and kinda jealous)

also, they got raph some sick lou jitsu merch because it turns out he’s a huge fan, much to everyone’s surprise

turns out raph only knows lou jitsu because of the battle nexus. he always heard about how unstoppable lou jitsu was as a nexus champion, and once he saw old clips of the human in action, raph became pretty star-struck. (imagine his surprise when he finds out there’s a ton of old movies starring his battle nexus idol that are just lying around the lair!)

[g1ngerbeer]

stuff for @spoopdeedoop's starlight strings au that i didn't get around to posting on here

(context for the last one: discord server was discussing how funny it would be if all the doctors just spontaneously appeared in some way that referenced their regeneration story. so ten sleeps for 40 hours straight, they pull eleven out from the ground like a carrot, twelve crashes out of the closet ranting about dinosaurs, thirteen falls through the ceiling, etc)

[looooofa]

the king and the hoard

[2jihiir0]

“Fuck the police. Specially you, little pig”

Michael x Gator 🐀🐊

[bluegiragi]

holding back (part 2)

early access + nsfw on patreon

[dontwinmarioparty]

Smosh Cast as Pokémon Trainers

Your Rival: Trevor Evarts!

As the newest cast member of Smosh, it may feel like big, intimidating shoes to fill. We all know Trevor’s got the stuff for it, but really coming into your own comedic identity may feel like a challenge.

Partner Pokémon: Applin full team: dipplin, mr rime, quagsire, pangoro, slowking, emboar

Gym 1: Amanda Lehan Canto - Water Type

I've never seen such a good yes-and ability in improv than Amanda, you can tell that she's always down to turn any moment into a good time. Her acting talents spread far and wide, but her life experiences beyond that baffle me. The fact she loves scuba diving was the nail in the coffin for me that she's a master of the water type.

Partner Pokémon: Azumarill full team: azumarill, milotic, floatzel, mareanie, dracovish, starmie

Gym 2: Olivia Sui - Grass Type

Grass is a versatile and varied type, with the vibes of some Pokémon being serene and graceful to Rapidly Approaching Your Location, and Olivia fits that to me. She’s incredibly sweet and affectionate with her friends but is fully willing to commit to a bit and confuse the audience.

Partner Pokémon: Cherrim full team: cherrim, tangrowth, shiftry, lurantis, ferrothorn, whimsicott

Gym 3: Chanse McCrary - Fire Type

Chanse has an edge to him that I could see absolutely light up a battlefield. He’s not afraid to flex and show off during a competitive game, which sometimes leads to his downfall, but never takes back from his intelligence and just overall confidence. He’s got the X factor, which takes perfectly to the fire type.

Partner Pokémon: Blaziken full team: blaziken, skeledirge, volcarona, oricorio, ninetales, delphox

Gym 4: Tommy Bowe - Normal Type

Tommy had a point when he said that the Normal type is filled with a lot of Weird Looking Fellas, and I agree with that, but the normal type also calls for versatility, reliability. Having type immunities and only one weakness makes it a type that’s able to reliably stand on its own legs. With the many hats that Tommy has worn over the years at Smosh, the Normal type makes so much sense.

Partner Pokémon: Porygon-Z full team: porygon-z, audino, ditto, cinccino, lickilicky, drampa

Gym 5: Damien Haas - Ghost Type

Damien’s appearance alone would make the hounds be sent after me if I didn’t put him into the Ghost Type. Though intimidating on the surface, the ghost type, once you get past the hesitation, is full of some of the sweetest Pokémon you’ll ever get to meet. Consistently bringing fan favorites to new games with every generation, I can’t help but be reminded of Damien’s affinity for the spooky and alternative despite everything else about him being so gentle. He deserves the ghost type, and the ghost type deserves him.

Partner Pokémon: Chandelure full team: chandelure, gengar, rotom, cofagrigus, aegislash, sinistcha

Gym 6: Angela Giarratana - Dragon Type

The dragon type is powerful, it’s dominating, but it’s also chaotic, hard to wield, and sometimes outright terrifying. Angela being a dragon tamer makes so much sense to me, personally. Her ability to command a room either willingly or by complete accident with a mistake of word-choice never fails to make me laugh and feel hooked to the screen. Just put a big dragon next to her and that’s only amplified.

Partner Pokémon: Tyrantrum full team: tyrantrum, duraludon, noivern, goodra, alolan exeggutor, dracozolt

Gym 7: Arasha Lalani - Flying Type.

Arasha never fails to surprise me with just how above and beyond she goes in any video. No matter how crazy it gets she’s not afraid to yes-and the vibe and enable the chaos in a room. It makes her a fantastic host. She’s going to soar. She’s going to book a marvel movie. Trust me.

Partner Pokémon: Altaria full team: altaria, crobat, archeops, emolga, tropius, bombirdier

Gym 8: Keith Leak Jr - Electric Type

Keith is insanely underrated in the Smosh cast, and I sincerely believe that the OG Smosh Squad would not be the same without him. He consistently bounces between being a straight-man in a lineup to the most insane within seconds. Down to just his fits every single day, and the fact that he BEAT CANCER??? He’s always got me on my toes. He’s Electric.

Partner Pokémon: Zebstrika full team: zebstrika, alolan raichu, ampharos, luxray, toxtricity, pawmot

Team Rocket (or any evil team) Leader: Spencer Agnew - Dark Type

How could this be possible? The chosen?!! Evil? No..I just ran out of gym leader slots and thought it would be compelling lol. Spencer is a mastermind of comedy both in front of the camera and behind it. He’s funny without necessarily even trying, but yet it always comes across as mischievous, chaos, the most out-of-pocket lines you’ve ever heard. He’s clearly such a good guy, but the dark type, at least to my belief, fits the vibe he brings to the cast so perfectly.

Partner Pokémon: Kingambit full team: kingambit, krookodile, obstagoon, weavile, absol, sableye

The Elite Four:

Before you face the champion, you must go through a gauntlet of four of the strongest trainers in the region. Who might this be?

Courtney Miller - Fairy Type

A directorial mastermind, a comedic powerhouse, and overall just slaying boots the house down, Courtney Miller is nothing short of magical. She breathes a life into Smosh that just leaves me knowing for certain that some of our favorite videos would not be the same without her influence. Her ability to sway from one comedic extreme to another, while still showing that sincerity makes her just such a good fit for the fairy type.

Partner Pokémon: Florges full team: florges, sylveon, mawile, grimmsnarl, primarina, gardevoir

Anthony Padilla - Fighting Type

Our local emo boy. Our local “spent a day with everyone” boy. Someone who we were all overjoyed to have back. Not only being an absolute comedic powerhouse, he proves himself to be a jack of all stoic trades, from painting, to yoga, to starting Smosh with computer programming, his path of self-actualization is one to be admired.

Partner Pokémon: Breloom full team: breloom, toxicroak, scrafty, poliwrath, kommo-o, hitmontop

Shayne Topp - Psychic Type

Without a shadow of a doubt, Shayne has shown that (even if partially for a bit), he listens, he cares, and he hopes for the best for Smosh as a company. His energy in videos and being able to match the vibe of almost anyone that he’s paired with is nothing short of miraculous. He’s psychic. Full stop.

Partner Pokémon: Gallade full team: gallade, meowstic, darmanitan, oranguru, alakazam, reuniclus

Ian Hecox - Ground Type

For almost any cast member you could argue that they’re breathing life into Smosh. But I think one deserving of the title of keeping their feet planted is Ian. The way he showed so much resolve during the fall of Defy, carrying the company through Mythical, and stepping up and taking the operation independent again with Anthony shows nothing short of an incredible amount of dedication. Ground type fits him to me. Earthquake is always on a competitive team somewhere.

Partner Pokémon: Garchomp full team: garchomp, alolan dugtrio, marowak, stunfisk, mamoswine, gastrodon

The Champion….

The Chosen

Being the strongest Pokémon trainer of all time is a big, burdening task…but they are shoes which The Chosen is ready to fill. Using every single one of his special techniques, he will be a tough challenge. Are you ready to face it?

Partner Pokémon: Absol full team: absol, darkrai, lucario, zoroark, lycanroc, partner pokemon of whoever is playing the chosen at the time of the encounter

and at long last, you've done it. You're the Champion of the Smosh Pokemon League! Congratulations!!!

[thegnomelord]

the 141 would stand no chance with werewolf!reader and werewolf!soap. both of you scenting them and each other.

they come back from a mission you and soap weren’t on to find you both stinking of each other and lying in a heap.

god forbid you’re mated to each other, the displays you do borderline inappropriate as you shamelessly rub against each other, covering each other in marks

Oh yeah, you two have gotten SOOO much chastising from Price about your and his inappropriate touching of each other :D. And god help the rest of the team when the full moon draws near, you two just become cuddle bugs with each other and the team lol

CW:NSFW SubBot Soap, DomTop MReader

Before you came into the picture, it would take the entire team to wear Johnny out on a full moon, from wrestling to fucking to playing fetch, doing anything they could to keep Soap from gnawing on the walls of the base like some puppy just growing his permanent teeth.

Now it's simultaneously better and worse with you. You and Soap get on like a house on fire, touching and scenting each other on a regular day, but increasing it exponentially as the full moon draws near. It's the time of the month when the pack is supposed to come together so the rest of the lads find themselves with twice as many wagging tails and needy whines as you and Soap work to scent them all; Gaz laughing as he's trapped between you and Soap, your fur tickling his skin. Ghost grumbling under his breath as he scratches your neck while Soap nuzzles his entire body against him, Price purring deep and calming in his sleep while you two are curled around him.

They leave you alone when you chase Soap into the woods, your wolves fully taking over as you run and howl and snarl into the night. Growing tired of running you pin him down, your teeth clamping onto the scruff of his neck as you two tumble to the ground.

Soap snarls and thrashes like an eel, attempting to throw you off but you hold firm, claws scraping against his sides until the scent of blood enters your senses, your cock already slipping from it's sheath to rub against the swell of his ass.

You feel him shiver, a low pitched whine leaving his jaws as his body goes limp, large claws tearing into the dirt as he spreads his legs, tail curling up and slick already pearling the rim of his hole, wet and willing for you.

Your feral mind doesn't even think about prepping him, your hips humping against his ass until the tip of your cock catches on his hole and you're shoving your cock inside him in one rough move, a desperate yelp pushing out of Soap's lungs, his hole clenching down on you.

But he's not in pain, fully shifted he's more than able to take you, only needing a few seconds to get adjusted before he's pushing his hips back, a demanding snarl bubbling in his throat. You snarl in response, setting a brutal pace that has him growling and whining, his cock hard and leaking between his furry thighs.

You don't last long, your hips snapping against his ass, balls slapping his own, your teeth still holding him by the scruff as you cum inside him. But you don't stop.

Soap whines and whimpers when your hips continue to move, his hole wet with cum and slick as your hard cock, not even having softened, continues to saw into him. You go the entire night like that, cumming inside him again and again until the morning sun rises and the rest of the boys find you two back in your human forms, your body curled around his and your knot firmly lodged in his ass, the ground itself wet with your cum.

[turtleplushi]

Not really the star warrior he was expecting..

(This is art for Hate Me Not by me and Galapathy over on ao3 :)

[meowmeowriley]

Rabbit shifter Ghost likes to be stuff on Soap's hoodie pocket even if he won't fit. Soap ends up getting one of jumpers with a cat pocket to accommodate this.

Maybe a clear bag some cats travel in to keep Ghost contained when needed.

Ghost, being a Flemish Giant, does not fit in Soap's hoodie pocket, to his own dismay. However, when Soap steals a hoodie from Ghost, one that's oversized even on Ghost himself, and has just a huge front pocket, Ghost can't help himself. He shifts mid sprint, after having spotted his favorite hoodie on his favorite Sergeant across the training field. Goes from running full tilt to hopping at the speed of light. A grey streak, cutting the field in half. A missile, lazer guided and target locked. The target: the pocket of that hoodie.

Soap barely has time to brace himself after spotting the gray blur approaching out of the corner of his eye at mach Jesus.

Ghost's aim is true, he leaps, front paws catching the hem of the pocket and pushing it out of the way enough to stuff himself into. His head pops out the far side, ass, and feet stopping him from shooting straight through because he's a thick boy. His momentum, being a 20 pound (10 kilo) ball hurtling towards Soap like a meteor, yanks Soap off balance and he fails wildly and careens forward whilst trying to catch his balance again, so as to not squash his damn Lieutenant.

The soldiers Soap had been lecturing were stunned silent.

Soap had no way of knowing the hoodie he'd stolen was Ghost's designated digging and tunneling hoodie, that he owned it specifically so that he could stuff himself into the pocket. What he did know, now at least, was that he would be stealing this particular hoodie every chance he got.

Soap did not address what had just happened. He straightened back up, cleared his throat, and went back to instructing. Ignoring the rabbit chinning the hem of the pocket, or his hand when he went to pet him.

The soldiers, to their credit, also remained silent about the bunny butt, feet stuck out backwards and tail flashed high, sticking out the other end.

Soap later found himself on Amazon looking at the hoodies designed to carry cats in, desperately checking reviews to make sure they could handle an extra large cat (or in this case, rabbit). He may have ordered himself several of them.

[shittyutmv]

Guess who’s back back again

Does Killer is gay?

jk he has a bunch of pride pins i think . like a whole lot . collects them killer belongs to rahafwabas

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Red-haired pirates Monster au! headcanons

This will be a headcannon because I was high and tired when I wrote it. Don't @ me. Also,

So Shanks is an Incubus because he's Mr. Horny-jail-lifetime-member, and he's got charisma and big dick energy for days. And I headcanon he has "fuck me eyes", no I will not explain.

Benn as an orc, Yassop as a harpy, and Lime Juice as a Dullahan. Uta would be a siren, of course.

Monster is a Wuzhiqi (a Chinese monkey demon,) the reason why is pretty self-explanatory. Bonk Punch would be a Cyclops.

Gab would be some sort of manticore, because he's described as having "lion-like" features. Lucky Roux would be a troll, not sure why, it just feels like it fits. Building Snake would be a medusa, or should I say, "me'dude'sa," because he's got really nice hair.

I struggled with Hongo, but I think he'd be some sort of sorcerer. It seems like it's the best fit for Hongo's role as a ship doctor.

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