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evilminji · 8 months

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You know all those Cults in Gotham?

Bet at least ONE of them could spring for both a Legit Magic User and a Cloning pod.

Because The Wayne's? Hearts of Gold. Long standing pains in the asses. Probably the only thing standing between this gods forsaken wasteland of a city and Their Dark Lord. For GENERATIONS no less!

It's sooooo obnoxious!

So they want to Curse Um dead. Just a good ol fashioned bloodline curse. Destroy um from within, etc. BUT! To do THAT? You kinda need a blood relative to sacrifice!

And Bruce is... well... rather infamously An Orphan With No Biological Kids (at that point).

So? What do you do? Make one, obviously. You send in some of your own on a Holy Mission. Honeypot that playboy! Get us a kid to sacrifice! Our God will reward you etc! But... FFS! What? Are brunettes not your TYPE or something?! Pretty lady! Throwing herself at you!!

TAKE THE BAIT!

But he DOESN'T. Because he's both really used to that behavior, as The Wayne Heir and a False Playboy, AND because? He's fuckin Batman. He can see through your schemes.

Okay.

Okay!

Plan B!

Get us some DNA. We'll CLONE the sucker. That should be doable, right?

........OH COME ON! How?!

Batman: [REDACTED] / Cultists: 0

Fuck it! This is impossible! How are we supposed too... *eyes drift over to the Wayne Family Private Graveyard* .......Idea? Ideeeeaaaa~! Someone get us a shovel!

So they, cultist bastards that they are? Fuckin rob a grave for some DNA.

OBVIOUSLY though, it can't be one of the more RECENT graves! He probably VISITS those! Watches them! No we gotta be SNEAKY! Get one a bit further back! Mwahahahaha! We're so brilliant! Our God is gonna give us SUCH a Good Grade in follower!

A thing that is both REAL and possible to achieve!

So, while a Weirdly FURIOUS Batman? Is just... VIOLENTLY breaking ALL of their bones? Cultist 17 is furiously digging like his life depends on it. Either somebody snitched or Batman was hunting them down! Either way?

Gotta! Get! That! DNA!!! *digs faster*

Ah HA! Got it!

Fucking SCATTER! Run you fools, RUN!!! *everyone bolts*

And AT LAST! They have it! Wayne DNA! Now? Pop that sucker into the machine and make us a baby! Too sacrifice! *relieved noises* Man, that was hard work you guys. But we DID it!

Except??

Theoretical Babies? And "Real, slowly forming in front of me and becoming a human child" type babies? VERY DIFFERENT psychologically. It's ONE thing to sacrifice a HYPOTHETICAL baby... but when you're the guy running and monitoring the Cloning machine? Watching it slowly form and come together into... into a CHILD?

You start asking questions of yourself. Of God.

Of what, EXACTLY, you are willing to do.

What lines you find yourself unwilling to cross.

And yeah, your life was SHIT before the cult. Yeah, you were alone. Adrift. Without purpose. Angry at the world for all of its ugliness and failings. But... sitting, alone, in a dark room? Nothing but the steady hum of machines and the cool light of that pod? You are left with nothing but time... and your thoughts.

And the baby.

The one... the one YOU made.

Almost... he's almost like a son, in a way. Your son. Floating there, innocent and unknowing. Destined to be born, only to die painfully, for a cause he could not even begin to understand. Because he's too young. Too small. Just... just a baby.

The baby YOU made.

Doubt seeps in like mist. Creeping into the cracks forming in your faith. Surely there's another way, right? Why not save up for a better magician? Or... or hire a hitman? Why involve a child? Surely... surely your God would not WANT this, right? Or if He did! Surely, he would want the boy to be able to CHOOSE, right? A noble sacrifice, for the cause?

The pressure builds. Batman is tearing the city APART looking for your fellow Believers. Leadership is pressuring you to get "It" ready all ready.

He's not an "it".

They are dismissing your questions. Threatening and posturing, as you grapple with your faith. Where? Where is the COMMUNITY that you joined? The camaraderie? Every day, Believers are being torn down. The faith has lost so many!

How can this be WORTH it?

Your faith is slowly, cruelly, strangled in your chest. A death, by ten thousand silences, and ten thousand more cruelties.

Your son is ready.

You do not tell them.

The Clone of Bruce Wayne's great-grandfather is small, but healthy, in your arms. A tiny warm body, with a strong beating little heart. You call the police. Leave your phone, call running, on the desk. No one thinks to stop you, as you calmly walk out the back door.

Why would they doubt?

You are Faithful.

You drive. Pray to a God you have lost faith in, beg forgiveness for what you do now. Your beat up old junker of a car makes decent time, as you leave Gotham. Your son, asleep in a carefully made nest of blankets, on the seat next to you. You drive. You keep driving.

Past towns.

Past cities.

Out of the state.

Stopping only to feed your son and fuel your car. You... you can not bring yourself to care about what will happen to you now. You know they will find you. Know this is the end. But something ancient burns in your chest. A caring you never thought was REAL.

You are afraid.

But you will not let them harm your son.

Finally, a town. Far from Gotham. Quite and cheerful. It calls to you.

Here. It... it has to be here.

You find the hospital. Tears choking you. There is a place to drop of children. You've seen them before. How strange, that now you stand before it and HURT. Your arms not listening to your command. You... you have to do this. You HAVE too.

He is just a baby.

He is your son.

You have to keep him safe. And... and that can not be with you.

You gently put your baby boy into the drop off. Press the buzzer. And then? You make yourself walk away.

Get back in your car, and drive. The gun in your glove box will insure they can never pry from you, what you have done. Where he is. He is safe now. He has to be. You... you did your job. As his father. You made sure he was safe.

You can barely see the road, through your tears.

You take your secrets to the grave.

And Danny? He grows up. Is adopted young and never knows different. Both a Fenton and a Wayne. Knowing only one of these, to be his. But... that Wayne? Was a damn fine man. A pillar of his community and a champion of the people.

Got tossed more then a few blessings, in his life.

They weren't the STRONGEST. But they added up. And more importantly? Were hardly the refined magics of the more powerful. They were cast onto "Him". By blood and bone, more often then not. Which was all well and good!

When there was only ONE of "Him".

Cloning technology did not exsist. So why would you word carefully against it? Danny becomes a VERY lucky boy. Survives many things he should not. In fact, the kindness and hard work of his original? Gifted back in magically powered well wishes? By this, he survives something NO ONE could possibly expect him too.

It saves his life.

His template would be quite pleased, knowing that. That his life of good deeds, saved the life of the child he never got a chance to meet. That it protected his children, from even beyond death.

And in Gotham? At long, long last. The program Bruce made in his helplessness and despair, to search EVERY child until the child made of his bloodline was found? Spits out a match.

A Watchtower engineer.

Daniel J. Fenton.

@hdgnj @hypewinter @lolottes @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @mutable-manifestation

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #that baby is my great grandpa! au #spice up the cloning au #minji's writing

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rainrot4me · 2 months

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Whispers In The Trees

Summary: Prepped your whole life to complete a ritual to hand yourself over to a monster, you demand the reason why. When he gives you the answers, he demands your body.

Characters: Slenderman x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Big size difference, rituals, tentacles, gagging, choking, suffocation, eating out, Slender has a big tongue, vaginal, tip fucking, forcing, blood, clawing

Words: 5.2k

The curse of Slenderman had been in your family for generations.

Since you were little, this curse-like entity crept on your kin and ruled their lives. Demanding sacrifices and obedience every decade; deeming itself a God over you.

So as you trekked through the dense moonlit woods, you clutched the wicker basket so hard in your hands that it nearly cracked. You tried to think of your mother and her sisters, and her mother and her sisters, who have gone through this same ritual like generations before. The fog was dense all around you, the small flashlight in your hand doing little to breach the thick blanket.

The nature around you was quiet, a dull whisper of insects and animals as you trudged through the underbrush and thick roots. You knew this path, having walked it often when you were little to help your mother and sisters prepare for their turns, their time to appease the creature. You didn’t understand then, but now that you were dressed in thin white robes and bare feet, reality quickly faced you. In other circumstances, the outfit wouldn’t be bad, a nice Halloween costume of some cute cult girl from Midsommar maybe. But as you neared the familiar clearing past the trees, you didn’t find the idea of being a sacrifice funny anymore.

Standing just at the edge of the treeline, you took a deep breath, limbs shaking against the cold and fear that ran through you. It was late summer, well past midnight, and the night air brushed against your flushed cheeks leaving goosebumps. Closing your eyes, you stepped forward, leaving the dense forest behind you.

A sense of dread immediately engulfed you. The fog suddenly fizzled out on the ground like it wasn’t just blinding you. The air was silent, not a bug or animal to be heard no matter how hard you listened. And the breeze just stopped. It was like the whole forest was afraid to move into this clearing, hugging close to the treeline curiously but daring no further. But you had to, no matter how badly you wanted to turn and run back home to the safe arms of your family. To keep the vengeful creature at bay, this was the price that must be met. Every ten years, you watched as another woman from your family disappeared for a night late in the summer, silently praying that she would make it home in the morning. They always did, but the haunting look that followed them shook you to your core.

Reaching the center of the clearing, a dead spot in the grass was etched in a circular shape, the familiar pattern laid before you. Lying down your basket, you flicked off your flashlight, the moon illuminating a milky blue hue into the clearing bright enough for you to see. You shuddered, the silence creeping into your mind and making you look around quickly, paranoia gripping you. You huffed, rummaging through the items in the large basket and laying the contents out, preparing for the exhausting ritual. Your mother had taught you, every step perfect as she walked you through the routine. The symbol, the candles, even the perfect way to position yourself. It was like an art form for her as she taught you and your sisters.

Unwrapping the large bag of salt you packed, you began to follow the outline in the grass, pouring as you walked slowly. The symbol was forming nicely, a large circle with an x etched through it, the symbol of Slenderman, bore by anything he owned. As you closed the symbol, your heart pounded, the next steps coming quickly as you could feel the forest beyond the treeline begin to stir, its curiosity pressing. Setting candles along the salt, you spaced them evenly, lighting them as you went. It wasn’t nearly as perfect as your mother would have done it, but your shaking hands restrained you slightly, giving you little reason to care.

The candles flickered against the night, the warm glow surrounding you as you studied your work, praying desperately that it was good enough. You felt an impatience in the air, quickly cleaning up the rest of your items into the basket before sighing, and closing your eyes tightly. This was the part you dreaded. The part your family was reluctant to tell you when your time eventually came around. You hooked your hands under the hem of your white robe, the thin fabric almost see-through as you tugged it over your head, your bare body flush against the cold air. Your nipples had already perked, your nervousness making you squirm into yourself as you folded your robe neatly and laid it in the basket, turning back to the salt symbol. Breathing deep, your hands shook, goosebumps running all over your body. You took a step in, careful not to disturb the salt as you kneeled in the middle of the x, tucking your feet under yourself and straightening your back, placing your palms flat against the top of your thighs.

The salt was meant to protect you, a barrier that Slenderman couldn’t break. You were supposed to come out willingly, offering yourself to him without force. Was it for trust or some sadistic attempt at manipulation, you didn’t know. But as you breathed deep, you stared into the dark corners of the forest, eyes flicking nervously and watching for any signs of movement that you knew would come. You had only heard of Slenderman’s appearance, never seeing it besides what your family could recount. Terrifying, was the word they all used. It didn’t help as your heart pounded, the thudding echoing in your ears as you prayed he would never come. But it gave you a good time to reflect.

The specific reason why your family was enslaved to this creature was unsure, tracing back generations and lost with time. But like any of Slenderman’s victims, who's to say exactly why he did anything except for his own gain?

As you caught yourself zoned out in thought, you were quickly snapped back when you heard the rustling of leaves yards ahead of you. Your eyes snapped wide, back straightening quickly as your tits perked, your naked body on display amongst the candles and decor. You studied the shadows carefully, watching for any sudden movements, your pulse quick. But finally, slinking from the shadows, the lanky creature emerged. The sheer height of him made your heart sink, his bony limbs long and awkward. If it wasn’t for his movement, he could easily blend in with the tall trees surrounding him, making you suspicious of just how long he had been watching concealed by the dense forest. Your nails gripped into your thighs, teeth gritted as you tried to hold down your tears. His presence is overwhelming and otherworldly, defying the logic and rationality you’ve always relied on. The air around you seems to distort, amplifying the surreal nature of his presence until it feels like you can’t breathe. He was closer now, it barely even seemed like he had walked but more like appeared before you, only a few yards away from the circle protecting you. However, the worst part about the encounter was the lack of a face. It was like someone had pressed a sheet against his face, features protruding against the pale skin but offering no obvious facial structure. It was purely terrifying, this creature far beyond what you could’ve imagined.

His dark suit contrasted against his terrifying appearance, his buttoned coat and tie making you knit your brows, your unease only growing. Slenderman just stared, his vacant eyes absently staring down at you. His faceless visage and elongated limbs exuded an unsettling yet compelling magnetism that you found yourself drawn to, eyes refusing to look away as you studied him. Finally catching yourself, you looked down at your hands quickly, cursing yourself for being so disrespectful. “Slenderman, sir.” You mumbled respectfully, keeping your body at attention even though embarrassment wrecked you internally. “I come, as my kin does, to offer myself to you. To fulfill our obligations to you. And to-”

The speech you had so delicately rehearsed was cut short by a low grumble, the echo of the tall figure’s voice cutting you short.

“I hate to interrupt,” His voice was smooth, every word laced with the undertone of a darker grumble, like two voices were speaking at once, overlapping each other. “But hearing this same dedication every time I meet with one of you becomes rather tiring.” You sat shocked, unsure of what to do next as your careful instructions were quickly skewed. You kept your head down, eyes flicking against the grass as you carefully waited, shaky breaths the only noise between you. You felt so helpless against him, like if you made one wrong move that would be it. The only reason you weren’t screaming and running was the salt circle and the looming fact that if you did run your family would be massacred in minutes.

“Forgive my rudeness.” He coaxed, pressing closer against the circle until you could see his black dress shoes come into the edge of your vision. You dared to look up, your eyes slightly edging up until you were staring at his face again, that odd sense of being drawn in coming over you again. Slenderman tilted his head, vacant expression examining you. “But, you and I both know what we’re here for. There is no need for formalities anymore.” You knitted your brows, embarrassment creeping up your cheeks as you remembered just how bare you were. You gripped your thighs, nervousness running through your every word. “But I thought there was a need for formalities. This being a ritual and all.” You mumbled, eyes roaming the tall figure, his long limbs clamped respectfully behind his back as he chuckled darkly. “All of this,” He motioned towards the salt circle beneath you. “This is only for aesthetics. You understand, to make the scene more appealing for us. Humans have such an odd fascination with beings like me, so to combat your fickle bravery: you created a routine. Something to take your mind off of just how terrifying encountering me may seem.” He explained calmly, his body hauntingly still as he talked, but there was barely a motion of his jaw, like the voice was coming from somewhere inside.

You glanced at the salt circle, your efforts to make it look so nice thrown to the wayside. “So, the salt…” You glanced up, Slender nodding reassuringly. “I cannot penetrate it. Your protection is still guaranteed. However, I quite like it when you silly women step outside your protective ring and offer yourselves so willingly.” He was teasing now, his thin hands reaching around to adjust his suit before kneeling in front of you, his limbs awkwardly contorting to allow him in front of you. “But you are not like the others. I feel a very reluctant air from you. The others were a lot more… eager.” He cocked his head to the side. At this angle, you could clearly see the massive bulge beneath his dress slacks, the sheer size of the thing making your stomach twist. “I don’t find giving myself over to a cryptid demon so… appealing.” You huffed back, trying your best to conceal the dark tint against your cheeks. Slender only chuckled, the dark echo of his voice making your skin crawl. “But oh how fun it would be to show you otherwise.” He purred, tracing his pale claw against the edge of the salt, his actions impatient. You squirmed, nails digging into your thighs.

You straightened up, your bravery low but overruled by your curiosity. “Tell me why. Why the decades of demanding our submission while we cower for the rest? Then, when I am satisfied, I will offer myself. No resistance.” You demanded, eyes hooded as you tried to stifle your fear. Slender stood slowly, clasping his hands behind his back as he contemplated. Until he finally nodded, sighing.

“Alright, little one, I’ll bite.” He cooed, that ominous voice seemingly coming from nowhere but everywhere simultaneously. You settled, brain running a mile a minute as your heart beat heavily in your chest. “When old cryptids and beasts still roamed rampant through the Earth, your family was desperate. It must have been more than eight generations ago now, but they sought me out, begging for my protection against the things that went bump in the night. I obliged, my only demand being an offering. I never specified, but you hormonal humans took it upon yourselves to offer your bodies. For all I cared you could have given me your leftovers, but I was more than satisfied with what I have been given.” His words were thick with this cryptic dialect, his accent unheard of. “No such creatures roam these lands, long hunted out or deceased. But your family continued to show up despite my resignation, paranoia convincing them if they didn’t I in turn would be the monster that preyed on you. But, I’m afraid I have more important things to deal with than any of you.” Finished, he leaned forward, his white face vacant, but you could tell what he wanted.

“Then why do you still co-”

“Ah, ah, ah. I was promised if questions were answered I would get what I came for.” He growled, the calm voice laced with a tone of demand as you scowled. He waited expectantly, his hands tapping quietly behind his back as you stood, the salt on your knees falling as you shook them off. When you looked up, you realized really just how tall he was. You stopped at his waist, your face eye level with the terrifyingly large bulge nudging against the slacks in front of you. He was tall, towering and matching the height of the trees around you. He stepped back, standing straight as he waited for you.

Breathing deep, you took a step, your foot halfway out of the circle as your heart began to race. You could just wait him out, lay here until morning. But you feared his peacefulness would turn to wrath under desperation. Clenching your fists, you stepped completely out, straining your neck to look him in the face. Slender chuckled, his demeanour instantly switching as you felt the air stir, the forest pressing in on you with such an intensity you thought you were hallucinating. It was like he was controlling the trees themselves, making their branches press in and suffocate you. With a hissing, you finally saw the reason for the sudden intensity. Several black groping tentacles shot from his back, their form close to tree branches with their edges and curvature. He seemed to control them as well, the long limbs reaching around his body and whipping at the air, stretches and tears of the odd black liquid molding into new shapes instantaneously.

They encompassed your vision, the tentacles casting shadows across your face as they streaked across the moonlight. They slithered forward, sliding across the grass and in the air to grip onto your body. The tentacles were cool, like slimy tree branches that defied all laws of permeation. They slid around your ankles and up your calves, gripping tightly against your thighs before hooking onto your waist. They gripped your wrists, up your forearms and around your neck, tugging as they wrapped around your tits and waist. Soon you were completely secured, the tentacles curiously studying every inch of your bare skin, goosebumps rising everywhere they touched. It was electrifying, your body stiff under the chilled slime. Slender was quiet, his body just as curious as his tentacles as he relished in the way you squirmed under his touch. “So warm.” He mewled, his hands gripped tightly behind him. You shivered as the tentacles breached past your thighs, the slimy tips sliding against your folds, curiously spreading them open while you flinched. They slid further, pressing between your ass cheeks and making you hiss, the coolness sharp against your asshole.

“Wait-” You whined, your hands straining to push the tentacles off your body but they held your wrists still. They engulfed your tits, the tips wrapping around your nipples and tugging lightly, making you whimper. Slender watched carefully, his face never letting any emotion reveal itself. “Relax, little one. You made this decision. Now let me claim what has been so graciously offered.” He grinned. The tentacles slipped between your folds, your nervousness making you clench your knees together but they held them apart easily. Slipping against your clit, you groaned, your stomach tightening as you stood. Pressing further, they probed against your entrance, tiny little tips tangling with each other to slip inside of you, your warmth contrasting with their chill. You whined, eyes slipping shut as the tentacles pressed further in, stretching you as they squirmed and whipped. You felt incredibly full, your clit throbbing against the intrusion as a single tentacle flicked against the hardened nub.

Slender grunted, his eyes darker as he relished in the way you squirmed, your tiny noises making him strain against his slacks. “Go on, no one can hear you. Be as loud as you please.” You gasped, the tentacles in your cunt tangling together and pressing deep, stretching you wide. They began to pump inside of you, pulling out before pressing in quickly, your mouth falling open. Every inch of your body was covered in the cool slick of the tentacles, every inch sensitive as they glided along you. You felt a tug along your waist, the tentacles securing around you as they began to pull up, lifting your feet off the ground. You panicked slightly, the loss of stability unnerving as you were lifted to meet Slender’s face, your body angled back so he got a clear view of your cunt full of him. You whined, your face flushed and breathy as they trusted quickly, your slick coating the dark limbs beautifully. You found it terrifying how no expression or signs of interest flashed on Slender’s face, only the heavy breathing in his chest telling you how excited he was. Curling, you moaned loudly, throat straining as the tentacles pressed against your warm walls, squelching loudly through the quiet woods.

You couldn’t speak, the air in your lungs restrained as the tentacles gripped your throat, choking you. Some more moved up, pressing against your cheeks and against your lips, nudging their way inside. The tentacles tasted grimy, unlike anything as they slid around your tongue, filling your mouth full of him. You choked, the tips curiously pressing down your throat, quickly following the pace of the tentacles in your throat as they began to thrust down your mouth. It didn’t help when you felt a single tentacle slide across your asshole, forcing its way inside and stretching uncomfortably. You were gasping and gagging, every inch of you overtaken by these slimy things as they pressed against every inch and the entrance of your skin. That’s when you began to hear Slender’s ragged breathing, his chest heaving against his suit as he watched closely, entranced by the whole scene. He felt every slide and movement of the tentacles, relished in every vibration and constriction that your body gave him. He pushed you, seeing what made that beautiful voice stir or what made you flinch. He loved every answer he got.

Your senses were skewed. You forgot what direction you were facing or how high you were off the ground, everything becoming a blur as your body dissolved under his touch. Pleasure was racking your body, your resolve leaving you as Slender’s tentacles broke and pulled at every restraint you tried to use. No matter how hard you wanted to resist, these tentacles were quick to force embarrassing noises from your lips, pressing on all the right places. Squirming, the tentacles slicked against your cunt, pounding up into you at an inhumane pace. You couldn’t concentrate, every inch of your body was violated at his will. You couldn’t hold back anymore, your cunt throbbing against the thick tentacles inside of you as you felt your orgasm crash down. You gasped loudly, mouth full of slimy limbs as you came roughly, walls constricting around him. Your body thrashed, fighting against the restraint as you rode out your high, chest heaving. Your head was light when the tentacles slipped from your sensitive cunt, replacing themselves around your thighs as you were hoisted up higher, your brain too hazy to care.

Your body was angled upright, legs spread wide apart as your clit throbbed, aching from the intensity. Your heavy eyes watched as you were lifted to Slender’s face, your cunt open and raw inches from him. You whined, squirming as the tentacles slipped from your mouth, gasping. The tentacles retreated to your limbs, holding you firmly as Slender’s claws left behind him and reached up, wrapping firmly around your hips, pinching the plush skin. “You have such a pretty face when you cum. I would love to see it again.” He growled, pulling you close to his face. You were confused, wondering what he meant until you heard this sharp tearing sound loud enough to echo through the trees. You tensed, watching fearfully as Slender’s face split where his mouth should have been. It was terrifying. His mock mouth split wide, jagged pieces of skin splitting to reveal a dark interior, his mouth pitch black. Emerging from the dark, a tongue, similar to the shape of one of the tentacles, slipped through the jagged skin, pressing close to your cunt. You squirmed instantly, unsure if you wanted this to happen.

You didn’t have much of a choice as he ran his large, thick tongue through your folds, a groan echoing through him. His tongue was long, black, and inhumane. It pressed through your entrance, the warmth a nice contrast to the coolness of his tentacles that still slid against your skin. His claws gripped tight, holding your cunt flush against his mouth as he slowly lapped you up. He moaned at the taste, pressing against your velvety walls until he heard those wonderful gasps again. “Delicious.” He grumbled against your cunt, tongue curling and filling you as he relished the sweet taste of your orgasm. It was all too much, your body squirming against the sensitivity until you were gasping for air. He was so skilful with his tongue, lapping at every inch of your inside until you felt your orgasm rocking you again, your eyes rolling as you cried your pleasure. It was all too fast, his touch too addicting as you stared at his blank face, pleasure struck across his knitted brows.

“God… Fucking human.” The words sounded so vulgar following how polite he’s been. It caught you off guard. But you had little time to think as his tentacles were tugging you down quickly, laying you flat as they positioned your legs to spread around his hips, hips straining as the tentacles pulled. You whined, watching carefully as Slender unzipped his slacks and freed the bulge that had been haunting you from the moment you saw it. To say it was huge was probably an understatement. The thick length was easily larger than your forearm, not even two hands would be enough to hold the thing. You began to struggle against the tentacles, panic overtaking you as his cock twitched with excitement. “There's no way in hell that thing’s fitting inside of me! It’ll rip me in half!” You squealed, feet planted against his legs to hold yourself away from him.

Slender’s claws wrapped around your thighs, scraping the skin lightly as he tugged you towards him, his cockhead laying against your cunt. You cringed, fear riding up your spine. “I’ve never gotten this far with the others. Their voices and bodies were too annoying. But you intrigue me, little one. I’ll make it fit.”

You tried to close your legs, but Slender was already wrapping his claws around your hips, his claws easily overlapping as he nudged his hips between your legs and held you open for him. You were breathing fast, heart pounding as you watched the head of his cock line up with your entrance, the head alone the size of your entrance. He dug his claws in, pinching your skin as he began to press against you, nudging his cock into you. The stretch was rattling, the sharp sting making you cry out as the head of his cock barely pressed inside, your entrance begging for relief. Your hands reached down, gripping his claws tightly as tears spilt down your cheeks, your babbles echoing loudly. The tentacles slid across your skin soothingly, pinching at your nipples and rubbing at your cheeks the further he tried to press. “Ple- Please- Oh, God, please-” You cried, your stomach tightening as his head popped past your tight entrance, your walls constricting against the intrusion, “Breathe, little one. You’re doing wonderfully.” He groaned, hips stuttering lightly as he nudged his head in and out of you. You were whining, breath catching every time he pushed back into you.

He couldn’t go further than the tip, but Slender didn’t seem to mind as he shallowly fucked you onto his cockhead. You were whining, back arched and hips grinding as the sting and stretch of his head slowly turned to painful pleasure. The nudge of his cockhead against your walls made you moan loudly, tentacles sliding down to tug at your clit as he fucked you onto him. You could tell he wanted more, his slimy tongue hanging from his mock mouth and lolling with every thrust. His desperation showed as he breathed heavily, gasps ragged as he held himself back. Even though your mind screamed that you couldn’t handle any more, you gasped, gripping your hands against his thin forearms. “Deeper��” You whined, staring up at him through heavy eyes and flushed cheeks, jaw slack.

Slender’s body lit up, his claws gripping tighter as he groaned, brows knitting. He was reluctant, his movements nervous until his desperation overtook him, his shoulders crouching low to press his face close to yours. “Hold on tight, little one.” He hissed, your hands slinking around the back of his pale head as you gripped the collar of his suit. He breathed your scent in deep, tongue pressing from his mouth to slink against your neck, relishing in the taste of your sweat. You groaned as the tongue pressed against your cheeks, sliding across your lips before pressing inside. You sucked on his tongue, the long warmth pressing against your throat as Slender began to press your hips down further. It felt like you were tearing, the incredible sting making your eyes clamp shut, Slender’s tongue quick to distract you. His tentacles moved rapidly across your skin, pinching and pulling against every available sensitive service to help relax you. Slender’s cock pressed barely deeper, not even halfway inside of you, but it was all you could take.

You clawed at his shoulders as tears spilt to your cheeks, the fullness obstructing your breathing. Slender was moaning deeply, his ominous voice ringing across the trees as he began to thrust your body down onto his cock. You were both sporadic, hands and tentacles gripping onto every available surface as you stretched impossibly wide. You couldn’t believe the feeling, both painful, but so wonderfully pleasurable. You were so sensitive, so overwhelmed, but oh so full. It was nothing like you had ever experienced.

Slender was holding you tight, pressing your hips down roughly and pulling up quickly, just to nudge you down again. He was careful to read every signal your body gave. Every hiss of pain or sigh of pleasure, he was sure to adjust for you. “Sir- So full-” You groaned against his mouth, tongue slipping to glide against your neck. He groaned deeply, teeth gritted and brows knitted. “So good, little one. So good.” His tentacles flicked against your clit, tugging until you couldn’t take it anymore.

You couldn’t breathe as you felt your orgasm rush over you, hips jerking down against his cock until you were too tight to move. Slender still tried to thrust you down, but your walls constricted and kept him in place. You cried out, clawing against the back of his neck as he slammed his mouth back against yours, tongue invading your throat before you could catch your breath. Slender was quick to follow, warm seed shooting up inside of you in thick stripes as he groaned. His claws dug in deep, blood pooling around his pale skin until it was dripping down your legs. His tentacles lapped it up, pressing the thick liquid across your skin.

When Slender’s heaving chest finally settled, he took a deep breath, slipping his claws under your arms. “Hold still, little one.” He hissed, pulling you off his cock slowly as you whined, the sharp sting stretching your sensitive cunt. You couldn’t focus when he finally popped out of you, thick black liquid leaking from your ruined hole. His cum was hot, a thick black liquid that bubbled and gooped against your folds. You whined, emptiness making your cunt throb as your head pounded. Slender sat on the forest floor, laying down on his back as he pulled you with him, laying you down on his chest as you both settled. Your limbs were weak, eyes heavy with exhaustion as Slender’s tentacles ran soothingly across your back.

When you finally caught your breath, you braced your hands on his chest, leaning up to stare him in the face. His pale skin had fixed itself, with no sign of the mock mouth that tore across his flesh. The blank slate was all that was left. “I release you… Of your duties. There’s no need for you to come here anymore.” You sighed, resting your head against your hands. Slender reached forward, tangling his claws with your matted hair, sliding his fingers through the long strands. “But what if I want to come here? More often than just once a decade, that is.” He huffed, sliding his claws against your cheek. You sat stunned, glancing at his expression and searching for any tricks. “But why..?”

“I guess now I’ve found a more enticing reason.” He grinned, pinching your cheek. He blushed, turning away. You traced along his chest, the fabric of his suit soft under your touch. “You’re still released from protecting us. No need to give you more work than necessary. I suppose you won’t be requiring the ritual anymore?” You smiled, resting your chin against your hand. Slender chuckled, rubbing up your sides. “Only if you would like to reminisce, little one…” He growled, holding you tight.

In reality, you never imagined the monster that haunted your family to become humane to you. You also never expected to meet with him weekly, in the same clearing, exploring each other and relieving the urges only the two of you could satisfy.

Maybe it was a slap in the face to your kin, but as Slender held you close for another week, all you could think of was him.

He may have been a curse, but he was yours to bear.

This was an anonymous request!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

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kitten4sannie · 4 months

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blinding faith (teaser)

fall in line now, bow your head

pairing: cult leader! yunho x disciple! reader (fem) x elder! mingi feat. woosan

genres: twisted religious romance (if you can even call it romance), smut, late 1970s setting

summary: the founder can’t accept it when you begin to show signs of deception and doubt for his righteous cause. he has no other choice but to rely on his most trusted brethren to help him show you the light.

bend your knee, Child of God

warnings: aged up dom! yunho, aged up dom! mingi, subby innocent! reader, huge corruption kink, perversion, major sacrilegious vibes and behavior, mostly pet names/some name calling, praise/false praise, major voyeurism/exhibitionism (there’s a whole audience BAHAH), use of restraints/blindfold, masturbation, use of a rosary (i’ll let you figure that one out….), sloppy seconds, double penetration, loss of anal virginity, cum eating, cum swapping, size kink, major breeding kink, felching, squirting, dumbificafion

a/n: this is a lil teaser for a very special series that i’m writing for a very special someone ;3 i’ll be posting it at the end of next week on the 30th <33 without further ado, i’d like to introduce you all to our beloved leader yuyu 🫶🏼 try not to let him corrupt you~~ and if you’d like to join the taglist (if you’re not already on my general taglist) just click on the tiny heart at the end of the teaser ＼(^o^)／ have a lovely day/night!!

You were taught by Yunho, your beloved leader, your savior, your everything, that God allowed those he loved the most, those that remained tied to their earthly bonds, to endure deep suffering and endless tribulations — because within that pain, within that humiliation, laid pleasure. Unimaginable pleasure that sat just below the surface. Yunho took great satisfaction in reaching into the darkness, into the depths, and ripping it out with his silver trimmed talons, always willing to graciously bestow it upon his followers.

There was no greater joy than to witness the moment his dear flock began to walk in the truth. He savored the sweet sounds of ecstasy that tore out of their sweat-ridden throats, longed for the moment their rosy faces ceased their contortions, their lips, wet with saliva, their unfocused eyes, wet with tears, knowing that another one of his beloved disciples had seen the light. And they would always look up at him with delicious desperation, begging for another chance to catch a glimpse of heaven once more. And, only because of his unending benevolence and boundless love, he brought them back, expecting nothing in return, except for their undying loyalty.

Yet, none of them were ever as loyal as you. His angel from above. If only he had clipped your wings sooner.

“My love, my heart, my dearest angel, why do you look at me this way? With those tears in your eyes? With such devotion?” Yunho sighed out against your flushed cheek, his body flush against yours, the cold metal of his rosary splayed across your hot skin. You simply couldn’t speak, not with the way he was spilling inside you.

The corners of his lips quirked up into a sadistic smile, his warm, uneven puffs of breath hitting the bottom of your jaw, as he clutched your slick, trembling thighs, holding them farther apart to ensure that he could continue accessing the heaven you kept in between them, the hot, wet haven you only allowed your savior to access. “Is it because I’m filling you with my own devotion? Does knowing that my seed will soon grant new life inside of you bring you to tears, Y/N?”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

@dazzlinglight @thefinerthingz3 @cosmiczen @choerryge @arusio @ethicalz @jinsonaz @kitty4hwa @purplechannie @jazzymoore @kodzukein @asjkdk @chanst1ddies @createyour0wnworld @roarmingi @simeonswhore @k0rean-big-mini0n @bls-luv-me @igotlockedout @fl0r4f4wn @miriamxsworld @woosmaid @kawaiikels @azcon @allofuswantgwinam @breezy-simp @eastleighsblog @singularity777 @san-realblkwife @kawennote09 @feuille-et-pain @slut4hwa @owjohny @hijeongguk @lilramennoodle @leo-seonghwa @staytinydegenerate @greenymar @8tinytings @baguette-atiny @lvnderhazes @knucklesdeepmingi @soobiverse @jeongwangjessmina @ja3honey @actuallyalien @aggiebackstage @doom-fics @koalakoala8 @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna (continued in reblogs)

#ateez #ateez smut #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #yunho smut

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cevansbrat0007 · 3 months

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Indecent Exposure Pt. I: Bye Bye, Daddy

Summary: You get more than you bargained for when your father decides to leave you in the care of his four best friends, your fake Uncles, while he's on away on tour for the summer. Read Part Two!

Warnings: Mature Themes, Bucky Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Unwanted Touching, Dad's Best Friend Themes, Older Men/Younger Women Themes, Brief Discussions of Voyeurism, Brief Mentions of Mouth Soaping, Brief Reference to Spanking and Discipline, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Please heed all warnings. Part of my Indecent Exposure Series. If you'd like to be added to the tag list, please let me know.

"But Daaaad.” You whine, drawing out the word as you follow your father into the kitchen. Shoulders slumped, you can’t seem to stop yourself from pouting.

While you’d initially made peace with the prospect of being left alone for the practically the entire summer before you planned to start your freshman year at NYU, you positively balked at the idea being left in the care of a fucking babysitter.

Four of them, actually.

“No buts, pumpkin.” Your father drops his carry-on bag next to the door, on top of his other luggage. “It’s not good for you to be stuck in this big old house all by your lonesome. You even said as much just the other week.”

“Yeah, well…” You trail off, pissed at the fact that you’d essentially brought this on yourself. “That was back when you weren’t even sure if you were going.”

At first, your old man had been rather skeptical at going on tour with his former bandmates. They’d had a couple hits back in the day, but nothing major. Even still, they’d somehow managed to amass a bit of a cult following.

And so when he was offered the opportunity to open for a much larger classic rock band, he just couldn’t pass it up. And you hadn’t had the heart to make him either. Dreams like this seldom came true for anybody, let alone a mild-mannered pharmacist who was pushing fifty.

“Why can’t you at least take me with you?”

He turns to you then, heaving a sigh before pulling you into his arms. "Life on the road is no place for my little girl. Which is why I’ve asked your Uncles to check-in on you.” He presses a gentle kiss on your mop of curly hair, giving you one last squeeze before releasing you.

“And this is where I’d like to point out that I’m 18 years old, which makes me a full-fledged adult.“ Wrapping your arms around your middle, you try to play it off like you don’t care about him leaving so soon after your birthday.

But you do. While your birthday had only been last week, you two hadn't even had the chance to embark on your annual fishing trip yet.

“I know that. Of course I know that.” He’s quick to reassure you. “And as a newly minted adult I’m sure you’ll be on your own some nights – the ones when Bucky can’t stay and none of your other uncles are available.”

“Ugh! Can you please stop calling them that?”

Little did he know that you were mere seconds away from covering your ears and letting out a frustrated scream.

“Well, that’s what they are. They may not be blood, but it still counts.” Your father just shakes his head. Apparently he hadn’t expected you to put up this much of a fight before his departure. “And while it might be true that it’s been a while since you’ve seen your uncles, each one has assured me that they would be more than delighted to keep an eye out for their favorite niece.”

“Dad, I don’t even know them like that! At least not anymore...”

You’re rewarded with yet another weary sigh. “Then it looks like you’ll have the whole summer to get reacquainted with them then, won’t you?” His hands go to grip your shoulders, all but forcing you to look him in the eyes. “Besides, Buck’ll be around. I’m sure he’ll help ease you into everything.”

It’s impossible to stop the derisive snort that escapes the back of your throat.

“Sweetheart, my ride is going to be here any minute now…” He tells you, making it clear that neither one of you has time for the tantrum you seem so keen on throwing. “You’ve gotta know that I only want what’s best for–”

The two of you are interrupted by the sound of a vehicle pulling into your driveway. And while you don’t recognize it, you’re almost certain that it’s too sleek and expensive to belong to any Lyft driver.

“Speak of the devil!” Your father suddenly exclaims before throwing open the door and rushing down the steps. Which is fine, except for the part when he decided to drag you along with him. “Bucky fuckin’ Barnes – just in the knick of time too!”

Well, there went Plan A. So much for locking up the house after your Dad was gone and refusing to answer the fucking door for anyone except the pizza delivery guy.

However, in spite of your annoyance and frustration, you can’t help the tiny jolt of electricity that hums along your skin as you watch the dark haired man peel himself out of the driver’s seat so that he can properly greet you both.

“Get a look at you, old man!” Bucky chuckles as he enthusiastically brings your Dad in for a hug, lightly thumping his back as he does. “Can’t believe somebody actually fucked up and told you you got to be a rockstar!”

Your uncle’s smile only broadens when he finally lays eyes on you. But it’s the way he’s looking at you that catches your attention – it’s not quite a leer – but his blatant perusal is enough to make you feel the slightest bit uncomfortable.

“I know!” Comes your Dad’s eager response. “That’s why I’m trying to get out of here before whoever signed off on this sobers up and realizes his mistake.” Both men are grinning from ear to ear when they finally take a step back.

And that’s when all eyes turn to you.

“And who’s this gorgeous young lady?” Bucky inquires, his pearly white teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he makes a quiet show of looking you over once again, this time allowing his gaze to linger just a fraction too long on your cutoff denim shorts.

“Oh, come on now.” Good ol’ Dad reaches over to grab your wrist, pulling you even closer. Which is the absolute last thing you want. “Don’t tell me you don’t recognize your niece.”

“Is that my sweet, little Clover?” Bucky pretends to rub exaggeratedly rub his eyes while evoking your childhood nickname. “I guess it is. Except now she’s all grown up.” Your Dad drops your wrist in time for the other man to grab your hand so that he can give you a little twirl. "Just turned 18, in fact."

“I heard. So pretty.” He hums, although the words are spoken just low enough so that only you can hear them. “You’ve got yourself a knockout for a daughter, Dale.” You resist the urge to squirm when you feel the roughened pad of his thumb lightly stroke along the ridges of your knuckles. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you kept a shotgun by the door.”

While you suspect that his words are meant in jest, the only person that laughs is the man who raised you.

“I actually keep it in the front closet. Which reminds me…” You father turns to you then, pinning you with a knowing look. “Now pumpkin, I know you're not super excited about the current arrangement and all that, but I’d appreciate it if you’d, uh, refrain from having any boys over at the house while I’m gone.”

You swiftly open your mouth to protest, only to be surprised when Bucky beats you to the punch.

“Roger that.” He grins down at you, the dimple in his left cheek on full display. “Your Daddy said no boys allowed, little Clover. Do we have your promise you’re gonna respect his wishes?”

Tugging your hand out his grasp, you turn your attention to your Dad, offering up a sugary sweet smile. “But what about Peter? You actually like him, remember? Besides, he’s pretty much my best friend.”

“Well…”

Because you couldn’t fathom the idea of a summer without him. And you just know he’s going to relent and make an exception. That is, until Bucky decides to go and open up his mouth.

“You heard your Daddy, sweetheart.” He gently admonishes you, a hint of mockery in his tone. “Besides, I don’t think any of your uncles want to have to deal with strange boys wandering around the house.”

“Good man.” Your father agrees, clapping the other man on his shoulder. “And speaking of Andy, Ari, and Steve, this one here is a little nervous about seeing them again. I don’t know why. I mean it’s been a while since everyone’s gotten together…”

“Aww, bug.” He coos, wrapping a brawny arm around your much smaller waist. “Are you worried we don’t love you anymore?” You find yourself gritting your teeth to keep from elbowing him in the kidney.

Why the hell did he have to make that sound so…suggestive? And how come your father didn't seem to notice?

“No.” You grunt, hating the man for having the nerve to smell so damned good – like spiced vanilla and cedar.

“Because we most certainly do. You know, Andy was just looking at your senior picture the other day.” His large, warm hand settles just above the curve of your hip. “He actually sent it to the group chat and none of us could believe just how much our little Clover had blossomed. Right under our noses.”

“A–awesome.” You mumble, wishing he would stop touching you so much. It did funny things to your belly, which you did not appreciate.

“I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it when he gets here.”

Shock has your mouth falling open, briefly leaving you almost too stunned to make a sound. And to make matters worse, your father’s Lyft picks that very moment to pull up behind Bucky’s sports car.

“What?” You eventually croak. Not that you receive much of a response, what with both men choosing to abandon you in favor of grabbing luggage and loading it into the driver’s trunk.

“Alright, pumpkin.” Your Dad calls out once they’ve got everything secured. “I’ll call you from the road. I left instructions on the fridge and with Bucky. You need anything you call me, okay?”

Seconds later you find yourself pulled into a bear hug. And, because you don’t know when you’ll see him again, you choose not to argue or struggle. You can only hug him back as if your life depends on it.

“Be good.” He mumbles in your hair. “Listen to your uncles. It may not seem like it, but they know what's best. And you have my word that they care about you just as much as I do.”

“Okay.” Is all you can muster as you fight back tears. “I–I love you.”

“You know it.” He holds you even tighter. “To the moon and back, plus the galaxy and beyond.” Smiling when he releases you, you watch him climb into the waiting car before giving him one last wave.

And then he’s gone. You watch unmoving as the car backs out of the driveway and takes off down the road in the direction of the airport. It takes a moment for you to remember that you’re alone now.

Left to your own devices for the entire fucking summer.

“Save those pretty tears, Clover.” You jump when you feel a hand press against the small of your back. “You’ve got us – me, Andy, Ari, and Steve – and won’t let anything bad happen to you.” Bucky whispers, his mouth hovering just above your ear.

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter.” You growl, stomping towards the front door.

“Fair warning, sweetheart.” He calls after you, his voice tinged with laughter as he goes to follow you inside. “Your Uncle Steve doesn’t like that kind of language. And I’m afraid Uncle Andy isn’t the type to put up with that attitude either.”

“Then tell them they should keep their asses home!” You snap as you reach the stairs, taking them two at a time all the while silently praying that he doesn’t follow.

“All I’m saying is that I’d hate to see Stevie have to wash out that pretty little mouth out with soap.” He calls from the bottom of the stairs, no longer bothering to hide his laughter.

The fucking pervy bastard was enjoying this!

You slam your door with a flourish, briefly reveling in the sound it makes as it shakes the entire frame. If Bucky, or any of your so-called uncles thought you were still that same, sweet little girl you used to then they were in for one hell of a rude awakening.

Fuck! You’re so busy fuming over your current situation that you have no idea what’s taking place quite literally beneath your feet. For tonight, you decide that ignorance is bliss. If you got hungry later you’d just have to find something on DoorDash.

You throw yourself on your bed with a huff, punching your pillow over and again until you feel some of the rage leave your body. This summer was going to fucking blow unless you found a way to stay busy away from the house.

Meanwhile, Bucky has taken a seat at the bottom of the stairs. Pulling out his phone he opens the group chat he has with his buddies and proceeds to start typing. Call it intuition, but he had a feeling that he and his friends getting reacquainted with their precious little Clover was going to make for one hell of summer.

Oh yes, this was going to make for one hell of a summer indeed.

END

Unofficial Taglist:

@cjand10

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00-jammy-00 · 2 months

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Yan!Worshipper HC’s

Yan!Worshipper x GN! Deity! Reader

Content warning - Yandere themes, obsession, murder, this is mostly smut, nsfw mentions, cult themes, one of my most pathetic yans, he kisses your feet, slight pet play, spanking, he has a collar and leash

A/N - I’m so sorry I’ve been gone for a while. I lost motivation for a little bit and felt ashamed with a few of my works. I’ll be working on more requests as of now <3

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Yan!Worshipper who got a bit sloppy over time. Running a small cult was still so much work! Keeping the followers in line was the worst of it though. The disgusting rats couldn’t help but want more. Greedy pigs.

Yan!Worshipper who just had enough at one point and started killing off the ones who irritated him. One of them kept asking to see you all the time? Buried. Another would stop donating? Hung her limbs above the doorway until they rotted.

Yan!Worshipper who tried his best to keep this small secret from you. He didn’t lie to you though, he could never. So when you finally found out, he was a teensy but emotional.

Yan!Worshipper who got on his hands and knees sobbing as he pleaded for forgiveness. Snot and tears streaming down his face while he ungracefully dry heaved. “I’m sorry my light! Hic! I didn’t mean to cause you any harm! I’m so sorry! You’re my everything! Hic!”

Yan!Worshipper who followed your orders immediately when you told him he was going to be punished. He crawled up to you and kissed your ankle, whispering apologies. He slowly took your shoes off and kissed from your feet up to your thigh before looking up at you through teary lashes.

Yan!Worshipper who, in no time, was bent over your knee naked with a red ass. Despite the harsh slaps against him, his dick leaked onto the sheets below, his shaky voice counting each individual slap.

Yan!Worshipper who let out a sigh of relief when you stopped spanking him only to stiffen when you pulled out his specially made collar and leash. He whined as you pulled him by the leash across the halls fully nude on all fours. Followers knew better than to stare for too long at the sight.

Yan!Worshipper who made it up to you by pleasing you for hours, worshipping every part of your body a hundred times over while whimpering. The word ‘sorry’ didn’t even sound real as it continued to fall from his lips. Would he stop killing these ungrateful slugs after this? Of course not, why would he?

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Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, requests are open <3

please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission.

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phyrestartr · 3 months

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Their Burning Bodies Keep Us Warm (1/2) | Sukuna x M!Reader

W/C: 3.4k #NSFW, top!Sukuna, bottom!Reader, ABO dynamics, cannibalism, mentions of sex trafficking, mentions of cults, questionable relationship, suggested Stockholm syndrome, post-apocalypse, enemies to friends to lovers, angst, drama, gore, typical zombie shite, not rlly edited kekw SORRY

tags: @flowersatwork @tr4nniez @kamote-kuneho @prettorett @better-imagination-9

You ran. Even when your lungs tore apart, your legs burned to ash, your mind split and ruptured, you ran.

The destination was simple: anywhere. Anywhere away from the hell hole you'd been swept up into–a camp full of soldiers getting hopeful little bugs stuck in a honeypot with promises of safety and a life well-lived despite the end of the world. A colony. A chance to stop hoping to simply survive.

But that wasn't what happened. You and so many others were victims of a breeding ring–a puppy mill, so to speak. One where those able to bear young were forced to. One where a hivemind fooled the naive into thinking this was all for the ultimate goal of repopulation, for a chance to reclaim the world should the infected finally fall.

Yet humans, as smart and powerful as the hive claimed, had already lost once, and now twice as they lit their humanity ablaze for the greater evil of satisfying twisted desires under the guise of necessity. You couldn't take it anymore.

So, you ran.

Then, you saw a light. Just faintly. It whispered promises of warmth in the cold deadness of Winter's night; you couldn't help but be drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

But that meant someone was inside, too, which could be a blessing or a curse–if they found you, sidling up to the house, listening for signs of life or unlife, they could turn you in to the men chasing you; on the other hand, you might find a friend. A companion. A safe person to sleep by at night. To eat with. To talk to. That'd be nice.

Your daydreams shattered when the voices of those soldiers echoed in the empty streets of the town you'd found yourself in. You peeked from your perch by the front door of the house, and ducked out of view when you saw two bobbing lights flicking and scanning over the snow.

Shit, shit, shit. You swallowed thickly, trying to thick through the frost biting you and the snow melting on your bare arms. What were the odds they'd be able to follow your scent? All the way down to the spot where you hid beneath the front steps? It was hard to track another when it was raining, so snow had to be the same, right? So why were they coming closer and closer, why were their voices becoming hushed and their words rushed, why were they–

The door above you slammed open with the unmistakable sound of a gunshot. You covered your mouth with a shaky hand, hoping the boom coupled with your stalker's shocked, angry barking (just one voice?) stifled whatever pathetic squawk you garbled out.

It must've. Because the person--the man--standing on the weather-worn deck above you laughed, and stepped down the creaky stairs with heavy, lazy steps before following that soldier's voice.

Go, go, go. You forced yourself to move, pushing yourself up the steps under the cover of barked threats and the outbreak of a fight. You thought men like that stuck together. That they'd help each other out with delivering omegas back to one another. That they'd invite him to join their diabolic cult–especially when the thick scent of alpha filled your lungs.

You swallowed thickly, your inner omega going wild with curiosity and wonder and a need to curl up in the musk and laze in it all day, but your petrified self picked up the slack and kept you in motion, kept you scrambling for a place to hide. Staying the night was the plan–you wouldn't be able to survive outside, not like this. Not with a t-shirt, worn joggers and runners being your only defense against the cold.

What happens in the morning? He'd no doubt catch your scent. He'd no doubt realize he had an unwelcome guest. What would he do with you? What would he do to you?

“I don't care,” You breathed as you jammed yourself into the darkness of a bedroom closet and burrowed into whatever lay on the floor. “I don't care.”

And that was true; being a slave to one was better than being a slave to many.

–

His eyes shone red.

You weren't sure if you woke in the night to find the demon. You didn't know if your dreamscape simply enjoyed tormenting you. But the burns left by that searing, glowing gaze were real.

He stood there. Features melded with shadow. Body engulfing the snowy light of night. Staring down at you. Quiet. Still. Inhuman.

Only your shaky breathing filled the thick, damp void of silence his presence brought. What were you supposed to do? What were you supposed to–

He closed the closet doors, and his lumbering footsteps sauntered away.

–

When morning came, the stranger was not so willing to leave you alone.

You thought you were being quite crafty, quite sneaky with how you planned on escaping; you waited for sounds of his to stop in a far-off room, then you donned yourself in whatever gear and warm clothes you could find in the closet, and then you carefully, so so so carefully, opened the closet doors and–

“Leaving already, little omega?” A deep, playful voice taunted from the doorway of the room, just out of sight; if you pushed the doors all the way open, you'd see the man standing in the doorway to the left.

But your hands fumbled alongside your heart. Your voice died in your throat.

You were caught.

A large hand gripped the side of the closet door and pulled it open. You stumbled backwards, heart shattering from its frosted paralysis to jump into overdrive.

Because the man, the alpha standing before you, was unlike anything you'd seen before.

He was tall. His shoulders stretched wide and, judging from the strain of his shirt, his build was formidable and downright predatory. Muscle shifted and adjusted under an expanse of gilded skin everytime the beast moved, changing from looming over you to leaning against the doorframe. Maybe in an attempt to make himself smaller. More likely because of his cocky laziness.

The smirk plastered on his face bore the same arrogance, too. As did the care in brushing back his hair and actually looking presentable in the guts of a fucking apocalypse. But maybe he relished in the anarchy. You could only assume so much from tattoos marking his skin and the mirth gleaming in hellborne eyes.

“Go on,” the man drawled, hooking a thumb into his belt, bringing your attention to the thick knife strapped to his side, “Let's hear your pretty voice.”

“I wasn't gonna stay,” you choked out, and the demon in front of you smiled wider. “I just–I saw your light, and–”

“And you walked on in without even knocking.” He sighed and shook his head. “Kids these days.”

“M'not a fucking kid,” You bit out, surprising the both of you with your venom. You thought you'd lost it long ago, but maybe not.

The man laughed, showing off his brutal, jagged canines. You swore you saw red staining them.

“You've got some bite, huh? Like that in a bitch.” He stepped closer, and you tried to meld into the wall of clothes behind you, but failed to escape the calloused hand that grabbed you by the jaw and forced your head up, down and around as he inspected you like a piece of meat.

You tried to pull away, tried to turn your head to break free from his grasp. “Don't fucking touch me–”

“Hah. This how you tried to get those alphas off of you?” He taunted, grinning at your sudden wide-eyed stare. “No wonder they used you up like a–”

You headbutted him and kneed him in the dick before pushing past him and running. Your head pounded thanks to your stupid opener, but at least it worked. Now, you just had to get out of the damn house and–

“OMEGA.”

–and escape from the devil chasing you.

His growling voice ripped through your skull like a chainsaw revving to life as you threw yourself down the stairs and out the front door. You slipped and slid, nearly falling and breaking your fucking neck on the porch, but you caught yourself and made a break for the street as the thundering of footsteps clamoured after you.

Churned snow painted in sour shades of rusted red greeted you. You could almost envision the struggle, the stabbing, the warmth bleeding from their bodies as they died for their selfish desires. It chilled you, gave you pause–and that's where you fucked up.

The horizon reeled and spun when a heavy body crashed into you and pinned you to the ground. You gasped, straining to catch the breath that'd been punched from your lungs, failing to stop the burning in your chest as your face froze against the pavement.

“Wily little cunt, huh?” The stranger breathed, rage and amusement fighting through his words. “You bring that much fight to the sack, omega? Hey?”

You tried to rip free or push him off or something as he taunted you, but you couldn't. You were trapped. Again. Again.

“Fuck you,” you spat. “I'd rather fucking die than–”

You froze. The slow, stuttering shamble of footsteps pricked your ears before low, ungodly moaning and wheezing rattled through the streets. The noise was quiet, but so loud to a frightened deer.

“Lookit that,” your captor whispered, leaning down to your ear, “Guess God heard your prayer.”

Your heart hammered. “Get off, get off.” Your voice quaked and broke as you thrashed beneath him. “Please.”

“Thought you said you'd rather die.” His knee ground into your back and you bit back a yelp.

“Please.” The diabolic gasping came closer, became more frantic as the thing saw you. You couldn't see it, but they always got so fucking excited and loud when they saw fresh, living meat. You knew it was coming.

“Ah-ah, can't let you go. Your buddy won't be able to catch up and end things for ya.” The stranger cackled something hideous and unnerving. “That'd be a right fucking shame.”

“Let me up,” You begged.

“Not yet.”

It got closer.

“Please!”

“No.”

Just a metre away, now.

“I'll stay.”

The scent of alphan approval washed over you.

“Good pet.”

You were pulled up and off the snowy ground with ease as soon as you submitted. You even vaguely saw the man kick the undead back with ease, sending it toppling over into the snow and stuck on its back like a helpless turtle. Its motor functions were shot in this weather. It probably wouldn't be getting up for a while.

You wondered if you were going to suffer the same fate: stuck on your back, unable to move, at the mercy of a sick freak you accidentally met while running away from other lunatics. You were doomed. But at least you were alive. At least you'd be warm.

The pink-haired menace locked up the door before throwing you down onto the couch with little grace. You would have been more mad if the purring roil of the fireplace didn't breathe warm gusts of comfort over you. And, well, you weren't being dragged into a bedroom and tied down. Not yet, at least.

The make matters worse, the man didn't really say much. Just closed the blinds and ensured the entrances and windows were secured while you sat still and quiet, patient lest you suffer a worse fate.

He glanced at you over his shoulder before returning to the task at hand. “If I wanted to kill your sorry ass, I woulda done it last night,” he said into the quiet of the room.

You remembered those eyes staring down at you. How inhuman and evil they were. How much fear they bred in you. And now, you had to accept how real that was.

He sat down on the coffee table in front of you and leaned towards you, resting his elbows on his knees, holding your gaze with his own.

“Here's what's gonna happen,” he said, low and dangerous. “I'm gonna let you stay. Real nice of me, yeah? I'll give you food, water. Keep you warm, keep you safe from all the bullshit going on outside. Sounds good, doesn't it?”

You looked over his face, brows furrowed, heart pounding so loud you almost couldn't hear him. But you nodded for fear of what he'd do otherwise.

He smiled, satisfied. “Good. And in return,” he started, letting a hand slip up to your knee, “You'll make like a good little whore and keep my bed warm. Fair deal, don't you think?”

You nodded. It wasn’t like you had a choice, anyway.

–

Sex with the man–Sukuna, as you’d come to learn–wasn’t the worst thing imaginable; for one, he had some level of patience and tact when it came to stretching and lubing you up for your occasional “duties,” which put him in your “good book” right away (Christ, your standards had fallen so low).

Secondly, he didn’t make you participate. He’d command you in the same way each time (“face down, ass up, don't bite”), and he'd have his way with you. He never made you kiss him. Never demanded you speak. Never bullied you. He seemed like he just wanted to stuff his cock somewhere warm and forget about the world for a bit.

And you didn't really mind it. Sometimes. you almost looked forward to it. Sometimes, you let little noises escape when he railed you into the bed with reckless abandon. Sometimes, you wanted his hands on you just a little longer.

Because when he wasn't fucking you, he might disappear out of the blue and leave you all alone, only to return a week later with supplies and clothes, unperishable goods and other random odds and ends he found along the way. Once, he even found a retro game store and scooped up an endless supply of gameboy advance and colour games and consoles. Another time, he carried home a bag full of weather-worn books.

What'll it be today? You wondered when you caught sight of the man wandering back up the steps. He cursed under his breath as he messed with the lock for an eternity, and you took the opportunity to scurry away from the living room to put some distance between the two of you just in case; at this point, you didn't expect him to hurt you, but wild animals were unpredictable, even when seemingly domesticated.

“Fuckin' shit-ass door,” Sukuna grumbled as he nudged it open before kicking it closed and locking up. “Need to fix that shit.”

You peered down at him from your perch halfway up the stairs and watched him saunter around, heavy boots clunking on the floors you just washed as he looked around. You had to wonder who the hell had taught him shoes inside was okay.

“Where the fuck is that little bitch,” he mumbled, walking out of your line of sight. He traipsed through the bottom floor thoroughly before walking past the stairs again, pausing, rewinding, and meeting your patient statre. “The fuck are you doing?”

I don't want you to bite me; I don't know if you'll randomly kill me if you're in a bad mood; I don't trust you like that, all ran through your head, but none felt like a good option to admit to. So, you shrugged.

Sukuna sighed, loud and laced with an aggravated growl. “Downstairs. Now. Need you to do something.”

Your brows furrowed slightly. Normally, you weren't asked to do much. The sudden command had your skin itching.

“Now.”

“Coming.” You tried to control the quivering of your legs on your descent to him, and just prayed he didn't notice.

He stared down at you with narrowed eyes and a bit of a sneer before he leaned over, sniffing for your scent, circling around you a few times, and finally rubbing his wrist against your neck to half-heartedly re-mark you.

You cleared your throat. “Is that it?”

Sukuna scoffed and turned away, grabbing the medical bag from the kitchen cabinet and dumping it on the counter. “You know how to sew, yeah?”

“Well, yeah. I can sew.” You approached warily as he gestured you closer.

“Hah. Good to know you're not completely fucking useless.” He sat down heavily onto a bar stool and shrugged off his jacket and shirt before turning his back to you; a long, jagged gash marred his skin with trails of dark, gooey ichor and scarlett smears. Whatever had happened was serious.

“Holy shit,” you breathed, scrambling to look through the medical bag to find something, anything, that seemed like it'd help. You found some essentials: gauze, tape, bandages, antibiotic cream, disinfectant wipes. But you'd definitely need more than a few dinky wipes to deal with his back.

You felt his eyes on you as you puttered around the kitchen, grabbing this and that and some other things before returning to his side with salt, bottled water, and booze in-hand.

Sukuna quirked a brow. “The fuck is all that for?”

You jumped a bit when his voice interrupted your whirling thoughts. “I–gonna, um, try to make some kinda…saline. To clean it.” You cleared your throat again and set the mostly-empty bottle of sake by him. “That's for…y'know.”

“Loud and clear,” Sukuna sighed, dreading what was to come, and took a long, long drink from the bottle.

You pursed your lips and nodded to yourself before starting to mix the salt and water together in the bottle. You weren't sure what the ratio should be, but you figured there wasn't necessarily a limit, not when you were lacking isopropyl alcohol and hydrogen peroxide. You'd be sure to mention it to him next time he went out.

“So. This'll…suck,” you warned, voice nervous and weak.

Sukuna sighed again. Took a swig again. Then ripped his belt from his waist, folded it a few times, and bit down.

He gave you an unenthused thumbs-up, and you found the nerve to jab a hole in the plastic bottle cap before spraying your makeshift saline solution against the wound.

You nearly shit yourself as Sukuna growled with the force of a jet turbine. Faintly, you heard the creaking groan of leather crackle from his mouth as his teeth sank in deep. His canines probably already pierced through the material.

“I know,” you whispered, actually feeling badly for the animal keeping you prisoner. “I know.”

You took your time cleaning the wound out, being sure to remove any sort of gravel or shrapnel embedded into his flesh. Luckily, the gash looked worse than it actually ended up being. It bled a lot, but it didn't cut all the way through to his ribs or beyond. Talk about lucky.

When a majority of his trembling and snarling ebbed, you hazarded the question: “So…how’d this happen?”

Sukuna groaned, and you almost smiled. “Fell off a fucking roof. Hit a sign on the way down.”

You cringed at the thought. “Well. It's…not that bad.” You drenched the wound with another round of salt water before patting it dry.

“Yeah? Then no stitches,” he half-declared, half-asked.

You gave his back a pitying look before reaching for the needle. Sukuna scoffed and muttered colourful obscenities when he saw your fingers snatch up the tool before disappearing behind him again.

“Fuck me.”

“Sorry,” you offered softly, trying not to laugh.

You saw his knee bounce in trepidation as you wiped his skin and the needle down with those cute little towelettes. You kinda felt bad for him. Healthcare in the apocalypse was a bit lacklustre.

As carefully as you could, you pushed the needle through his skin, and tried not to gag at the obscene feeling. The sound of his fist hitting the countertop helped ground you, though, and helped keep you on task stitch, after stitch, after stitch, after–

You set aside the tools and cleaned off your trembling, crimson-stained hands as best as you could before applying whatever ointment you could under gauze, and finally bandaging his torso up. Sukuna's eyes followed you, but you couldn't bear to look at him, quietly afraid of what he might do if your unsteady gaze met his; but that wasn't acceptable, judging by how he grabbed your arm and stopped you from turning away to clean up the mess.

You looked at him, then, eyes laser-focused. Every shift pumped your veins with ice. Every flick of his attention sent electricity down your spine. Every silent word his lips failed to commit to filled you with dread.

“Thanks,” he said. And he let go.

#male reader insert #sukuna x you #sukuna x m!reader #jjk #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #reader insert #ryoumen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk smut #jjk x male reader #jjk x y/n #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #itadori sukuna x reader

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galedekarios · 5 months

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gale & karlach

i think out of all the dynamics between the companions, i've come to enjoy gale and karlach the most over my time with the game. karlach especially bc she's the only one who genuinely seems to care about and for gale.

she repeatedly checks in on him after the orb reveal and doesn't turn it into a joke about slurping carrots, or sipping wine, or wanting him to be gone entirely from the group.

not only does she advocate for him to stay three times, depending on which dialogue path you pick:

gale's background story reveal & the reveal about the netherese orb

Karlach: Come on. We all have our secrets - and our risks. If Gale leaves, we might as well disband completely. - Karlach: Absolutely. We're all risky in our own ways. We stick together anyway. Right? - Karlach: If having dangerous, otherworldly objects stuck in your skin is wrong, then Gale and I both have to go. We're not really splitting up, are we?

but she's also the only one who repeatedly asks him throughout the game how he is doing, to make sure how he's faring, both in general and with his debilitating condition:

act 2 - shadow-cursed lands banter

Karlach: Doing all right, Gale? Gale: Oh, you know... Still alive and kicking, despite being surrounded on all sides by an endless manifestation of darkness and decay... devnote: Almost with a sigh. That's just how things are - Grim humour to it. Karlach: I feel it too. Here if you need a pick-me-up.

act 3 - after mystra stabilised the orb

Karlach: How's the orb treating you, Gale? Gale: Oh, quite well as a matter of fact. Since it was stabilised, it's been humming along nicely. Gale: I have noticed one adverse side-effect. I seem to be losing hair in some, er, unexpected places. Karlach: I can only imagine.

i think it really bears repeating/stressing that no other companion does this. not one checks in on gale like karlach does, after his affliction has become known to his companions - with the exception of the protag potentially.

karlach also arguably has the strongest reaction in response to mystra's demands in act 2, showing again her care for gale, as well as her protective side:

Karlach: Aw, was that Gale's granddad? Player: That was Elminster Aumar - the most famous wizard in the realms. Karlach: Huh. Doesn't ring a bell. But all right! Must've had something important to say to Gale, if he came all this way. Good news, I hope. Player: I don't think it was. It turns out Gale has an explosive bomb in his chest - and Mystra has asked him to use it to blow up the heart of the Absolute. Karlach: Whoa, now. He's got a... well, I guess that would explain a little, but... Mystra... I mean, this is a lot to take in. Karlach: What's he going to do? - Player - Option 1: I think he's going to follow through with it. Karlach: Fuck me. There's devotion, and then there's stupidity. If the god of magic can't handle this without sacrificing Gale, she's no god at all. - Player - Option 2: I don't think he'd do that to himself, even if Mystra commanded it. Karlach: Good. I'm one hundred percent sure there's another way to bring down this cult. No true god would ask such a thing from her faithful. That's for certain. Karlach: Poor Gale. He must be in bits after hearing that. I'll distract him. Tell him I haven't read a book since secondary school, watch his face melt off. - Player - Option 3: I'm not sure. I think he's of several minds. Karlach: Well, tell him to pick the right one. Better yet, I'll do it. Fucking wizards, man! They always need help picking the simple, obvious option. Karlach: If Mystra can't think of another way to stop the Absolute than sacrificing Gale, she's no god worth worshipping. I'll say that to Gale - in, you know, gentle terms. - Player - Option 4: You know that bomb in Gale's chest? Mystra has asked him to use it to explode the heart of the Absolute. Karlach: She what?! Is she mad?! - Player - Option 5: Don't worry about it. Karlach: Karlach doesn't worry, she acts. So if Gale needs me, now's the time to tell me.

i particularly like that last response bc it really echoes throughout her relationship with gale ("karlach doesn't worry, she acts. so if gale needs me, now's the time to tell me.").

their banters are often playful, but also genuine. both karlach and gale tease each other, they joke with each other, showing how comfortable they are with each other despite their many differences, but there are also moments of understanding and care between them, allowing them to emphasise with each other:

Karlach: Man, it's good to be home. First round on who? Gale: She who thirsts buys drinks the first. devnote: Like it's a well-known saying Karlach: You won't pin me down with a rhyme, wizard! devnote: Jockeying with Gale (prob supposed to be Joking with Gale) Gale: She who declines gets the worst of the wines.

Karlach: Just when I was getting used to the sky again... Gale: Fear not, Karlach. Sun, moon and stars will still be there waiting for us. devnote: Reassuring Karlach: Meanwhile, this place is pretty spectacular, isn't it? Gale: No book or painting could ever do its strange beauty justice. But perhaps our stories might, when we return to the surface. devnote: Agreeing with Karlach, enjoying the sense of wonder as you explore

Gale: I've always felt flames to be a rather perfect expression of love, Karlach. Gale: Passionate, primal, capable of bestowing the most life-affirming comfort, or inflicting the profoundest damage. devnote: Listing the qualities of fire, Romantic, indulging in the poetry of the image Karlach: That's... pretty nice. Never thought about it like that. But now I will.

Karlach: Wouldn't mind a dancing axe of my own. Gale: A simple movement charm wouldn't be too hard to apply to such an object. I could conjure one up for you if you like? Karlach: Yes! I like! Gale: Very wel then. Once the city is saved, Karlach's Kinetic Cleaver will be first on my list.

Karlach: So, Gale - got any book recommendations for me?devnote: With concern Gale: You can read?! devnote: Taking the piss - knows full well Karlach can read, and that she's always claimed not to enjoy it Karlach: Very funny. Yes - I can read. School put me off big boring tomes. Sometimes I wonder what I'm missing. devnote: Friendly rather than flirtatious Gale: Say no more - I'll find the perfect book for you. I might even lend it to you from my library in Waterdeep. devnote: Jumping on the opportunity to give a book recommendation (a favourite hobby) Karlach: Ooh! Something with magic, please. And no devils.

even at his most vulnerable moments, karlach is there to support him:

before the stormshore tabernacle audience with mystra

Karlach: You can do this, Gale. And I'll be right here when you're done.

she allows herself to be protective of him and get angry on his behalf not after when it comes to mystra, but also when he is potentially kidnapped by orin:

karlach's reaction to gale being kidnapped

Karlach: That bloody freak won't get away with this. That's my wizard she took. And we're going to get him back.

once again, it's a good callback to her previous line: "karlach doesn't worry, she acts. so if gale needs me, now's the time to tell me."

she's willing to be needed by him - and he does need her. whether that is as a friend, or (if you chose to play so during an origin pt) as a romantic partner. it's a lovely dynamic either way.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #karlach #karlach cliffgate #karlach x gale #gale x karlach #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #ch: gale dekarios #ch: karlach #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #meta: mybg3 #i wanted to focus on a dynamic where a friend/partner focuses on gale #bc from what i see very often #that is neglected entirely #and often focuses more or completely on what gale can do for another #anyhow i love them

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