#fic: to be human

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

Wolf hybrid pack that was supposed to eat chubby bunny reader but instead take you in and use you as their little breeding toy.

They just kind of adore you, spoiling you with freshly picked fruits and vegetables, doting on their sweet little bunny as much as possible.

You want snuggles? They’re making a cuddle pile immediately, and you’re at the center. You’re hungry for something sweet? They’re ransacking the nearest village and bringing back every sugary item they can find.

They get into a lot of fights over who gets to breed you first once mating season comes around. You’re a bit afraid, seeing all these tall, needy wolves circling you like you’re a slab of meat.

It’s the first time they’re ever rough with you, pushing your soft body down and holding onto your hips as they rut into your fat pussy until you’re knotted over and over again.

Once they’ve all had a turn, they’re back to purring and cuddling into you, giving you little mating bites and cleaning you up.

You decide it’s worth it to get fucked out of your mind every once in a while if it means you’re treated like the pack’s princess. After all… it feels way too good being all full of cum and being bounced on one knot then another…

Being adored by an entire pack of wolf hybrids isn’t easy, but you’re a horny bunny, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @screaming-crying-screamingagain @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @j3llyphisching @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljr @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @buckoothecow @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68

[monstersholygrail]

Full moon with your werewolf bf except you're the one being chained up. You aren't exactly sure how you convinced your bf to do it. He had always made sure to keep himself chained in the cellar during that time of the month. But after your incessant begging he had given in. Under this one condition.

You have to be chained up in his place. When asked why he had told you the intensity of his full form may frighten you but to stay calm. He tells you that as soon as he's caught onto your scent he won't be able to let you go and running will only make him all the more quicker to mount you. You didn't know what you were getting into.

Now as your wrists dig into the cold metal... you know. And you want more.

The unsympathetic chains dig into your wrists as your fully turned bf fucks into you with abandon, his claws piercing your skin as your greedy hole sucks his cock back in with every thrust.

As your werewolf bf plows you into another sweeping orgasm, your back arches, a loud groan echoing off the cobblestone walls. Pain mixing in with the pleasure as your pussy weeps, milking your bfs cock and trying to push him out at the same time as he cums right after you.

Your cunt is so full his release spills out of you and splashes against the concrete floor. Eyes squeezing shut, your mind and body war against each other. Though body quickly wins out.

“Ah— dammit! I need a break. Baby, please, I need a break,” you beg, your body aching yet also wanting more. The need for rest briefly overpowers your never-ending craving.

But your werewolf bf merely growls ferociously, jaw snapping in his displeasure. Leaning his giant form over you, he cages you in, teeth sinking into your neck. Making his claim clear before his hips start snapping back inside of you.

Your cunt flutters helplessly around his girth and you whine, needing even only a moment. With his warm fur covering you, a light sweat begins to glisten across your body. Allowing the grip of the chains on your wrists to loosen just enough.

So when your werewolf bf throws his head back and howls, you take your chance. Slipping out from under him and bolting toward the door. A part of you maybe even wanting it to get to this point. To have your werewolf chase and mount you brutally.

Furious growls vibrate through the quiet night, your bf right on your tail as you run toward the surrounding forest. Just as you’re about to make a break into the trees, werewolf bf pounces, crashing into the hard grass and taking you with him.

His arms curl around you as you both tumble through the thicket. Either to protect you from the harsh wood or making sure you can’t get away again. Probably both.

The moment you two stop, werewolf bf doesn’t hesitate to mount you and slam his cock back deep inside your pussy. Letting you know he’s right where he belongs again. Ready to force orgasm after orgasm out of your tired cunt for the rest of the night.

You see his long claws appear in front of you and you know you’re not getting away again. He’s caught his prey and he isn’t giving it up. A lazy fucked out smile graces your lips as your next orgasm begins to build.

[thrasherella]

Needy Werewolf Husband is going into his rut and is really, reaallllyyyyy trying to get his wife's attention away from the household chores she's insisting on finishing before he can have his way with her...

...

He followed her all around the kitchen as she tidied up, wrapping his arms around her from behind and groping her tits as she cleaned the few dishes in the sink, pinching and teasing her nipples as she sighed and moaned, grinding his hard cock into her soft ass, his breath hot and voice desperate against her ear as he begged her to let him fuck her already.

"Please let me put it in..." he whined, nipping at the shell of her ear lightly in frustration as his swollen, red cock throbbed against her, begging for more attention, for more friction, for more anything; he felt like he was starting to lose his mind.

She had told him to keep humping her ass like a horny little puppy if he couldn't wait, and he really couldn't. He continued fondling her breasts, palming and squeezing them in his massive hands, and she whimpered and mewled, rolling her hips back against his.

"See, you want it too..."

She continued to deny him as she finished wiping and organizing the kitchen counters, his cock dribbling all over her backside as he pumped against her, unable to stop himself. He needed to pin her down, needed to stuff her full of his cock; he could smell her arousal mounting as she ground that perfect little ass back against him, her honeyed scent driving him absolutely wild.

"Just a little longer love, you're being such a good boy," she cooed, scratching him gently under his chin as he made puppy dog eyes at her, eliciting from him a low, humming moan.

He humped her legs while she vacuumed the living room, whimpering and growling as she did her best to ignore him, slowly and methodically making her way across the room as he ground into her, dragging and rubbing his cock against her, staining her clothes with his sticky precum, nipping at the back of her neck and ears, demanding her attention.

"Please, need to fuck you now baby, need to fill you; need to empty my cock into your perfect little pussy and give you a litter of pups..."

"Be a good boy and wait until I'm done cleaning the bedroom, okay?" she had purred, and he whimpered a weak agreement in response.

When they got to the bedroom however, she was helpless against him as he shoved her face first down onto the mattress, ripping apart those pesky little shorts and panties that had been blocking his aching cock, confirming what he already knew from her overwhelming scent that her cunt was already drenched and waiting for him to stretch and fill her.

"I lied," he huffed, mounting her from behind and lining up his dripping cockhead with her pussy, parting her nether lips slowly around him, loving how she moaned into her pillow as he did. "I don't wanna be a good boy; and you were a bad girl, it's not nice to tease a rutting wolf...now you be good, and take my knot," he hilted into her in one hard thrust, feeling her pussy clenching around him; a low, rumbling growling escaping his throat, and a deliciously muffled scream coming from her as he knotted her, forcing every inch of himself into her tight cunt.

He was already so overstimulated, biting down into her shoulder as he came, painting her insides white as he filled her with his thick load, and she cried out as her own orgasm crashed over her, hips bucking and rolling against him, squirting her climax all over his dick and pooling on the bedsheets.

"That's a good girl," his breath was hot against her ear, pushing her hips up slightly to get one clawed hand between her and the mattress, flittering and rubbing his fingers against her swollen clit, loving how she writhed and squirmed beneath him helplessly. "No more chores, no where for you to go, sweet thing stuffed and stuck on my knot...just be a good girl and turn off your brain, and squirt on my dick again, and again, and again while I make you my cum-dumpster..."

She couldn't deny this was exactly what she wanted...she knew her husband better than anyone and knew that denying him was a sure fire way to make sure he took extra time to "punish" her for the time she had wasted keeping him waiting.

Oh no, what a tragedy that would be...

[romansleftshoulderpad]

As a writer, I love going back through the comments I've gotten on AO3. I promise that the minute you take of your time has been appreciated for hours/months/years

[davinawritings]

Burglar Orc Breaks Into Your House and Your Pussy

Pairing: Orc Male x Human Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, Non-Con, Creampie, Squirting, thigh fucking

Note: If you are NOT comfortable with the above warnings: DO NOT READ.

Stepping out of the bathtub, you wrap a white fluffy towel around your dripping body. It is finally the weekend, and you have decided that tonight will be a night for relaxation. You have already had dinner, painted your nails, completed your face mask, and now your bath is complete. The only thing left to do now is to crawl into bed with a nice book and a glass of wine.

Pulling the towel tighter around your body, you open the door separating your bathroom and bedroom, only to freeze in the doorway. Standing in front of your dresser and searching through your jewelry box is a massive orc. He hasn’t seemed to notice you yet, and you instinctively try to make a run for the door. 

The orc catches sight of your movements immediately and blocks the door before you can run through. In a panic, you turn to try to run back to the bathroom, but you don’t make it even halfway before the orc grabs you by the arm and pushes you towards the bed. 

He bends you over it, and you go to scream when a large hand covers your mouth. His voice is rough when he says, “No screaming, little human. I have no interest in killing you”. His words do little to put you at ease, and you begin thrashing back and forth, trying anything to get out from under his hold. He lets out a deep moan as you move against him, thrusting his hips against your barely covered ass.

You freeze once again as the realization dawns on you that you have no way out from under him, and his stiff shaft is rubbing against you. He chuckles lowly and says, “I’ve always wanted to try one of you humans. Never had the chance, but I guess this is the perfect opportunity”.

He quickly pulls the towel off of you and pulls his pants down far enough to free his cock. You try to clamp your thighs shut as tight as possible, but he still manages to shove his dick between them. He thrusts his cock repeatedly, fucking your thighs like a tight cunt. He groans with his thrusts, the tip of his cock hitting your clit with each stroke. 

You want to die of embarrassment at the wetness that begins to gather in between your legs, even more so when the orc starts to laugh. “Such a good human whore, getting wet for me. This little pussy is just begging to be filled by orc cock isn’t it?”.

You try to shake your head, but his hand keeps you from doing so. He pulls back, and on his next thrust, he enters your dripping hole. You scream into his hand at the stretch, never having been so full. 

He leans his body over yours, his muscular torso pressing against your back. He starts pounding away, and all you can feel is him.

He moves his hand from your mouth for only a moment before shoving two thick fingers into your mouth, groaning as your saliva pulls around them, and you instinctively start sucking on them. 

His hips don’t stop as you are brought to the edge of ecstasy. You try to keep yourself from cumming, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but you quickly realize it is a loosing battle. Each thrust has his tip rubbing against your g-spot, his hips pushing your needy clit into the bed.

You moan and cry out as you start cumming. He pulls his wet fingers from your mouth, wanting to hear you moan and scream for him. He quickly moves his fingers, to your puffy clit, pushing you into another orgasm before the first has even ended.

He doesn’t relent until you squirt all over his cock, dragging his own orgasm from him and he fills you with his cum, grinding you further into the bed, just to draw a few more whimpers from your mouth. 

You wince slightly as he pulls out, feeling the mixture of both your fluids rush out of your gaping pussy now that his cock is no longer there to keep ypu plugged up. 

He gives your ass a firm pat as he says, “I think you might be my new favorite toy, little human. I’ll be back tomorrow; maybe if I’m feeling generous, I’ll even bring a friend”. You say nothing, still trying to catch your breath as you watch him climb out of the large window leading to the fire escape. You know the smart thing to do would be to get up and immediately lock every window, but you can’t help the way your overworked cunt clenches at the thought of tomorrow.

I hope you enjoyed <3 <3 <3

[batsyheere]

"So, handling your archnemesis," Danny starts. The room falls quiet, heads slowly turning to look at the man as he writes the words on the chalkboard. When finished, the characters somehow both messy and neat at once, Danny places the chalk back down and claps his hands.

"I typically call them fruitloops. Often they're in a better position than you are- older, richer, more powerful. They may have some sort of status that protects them when facing the public."

Tim wondered where Dick was right now, and if he was laughing. His brain was lagging like a computer as he tried to process what Danny was saying, and how seriously a few of his fellow teen vigilantes were taking this.

"Some of their more common tactics are-" the chalk was picked back up, and Danny writes as he speaks.

"Manipulation, isolation, conditioning, and empathy."

MICE.

Tim stares at the board, and quietly slips put his phone.

-What have I done to deserve this.

Enjoy your lessons Tim-

His head thumps against the desk. Conner leans over, gives him a pat on the shoulder but returns to taking notes as Danny goes on to explain the conditioning tactic.

[frankiethedarkangel]

Tentacle monster roommate who keeps you stuffed full with his tentacle.

Making sure your needy pussy is never lonely. You don’t even have to ask for help when you’re horny. He’s always there to make you feel good.

He’s addicted to how the wetness from your pussy feels on his slimy tentacle. When you squirm too much he wraps a tentacle around your waist to keep you still.

You have sucker shaped bruises on your cunt, thighs, and waist from him using your body. Sometimes he shoves a tentacle down your throat for you to gag on if you’re too loud.

Monster Masterlist

[bizarrelittlemew]

i can't wait to be 30+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to be 40+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to be 50+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to be 60+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to be 70+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to be 80+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to be 90+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to look back on my life and know that i loved things deeply and passionately and was inspired to create and was part of communities with incredible people from all over the world brought together by the stories that touched us

[iamespecter]

"Well shit"

Designs of the entire cast for my fic, "The Unexpected Reunion"! You can read the prologue and the first chapter on my ao3 :) https://archiveofourown.org/works/56008111/chapters/142245028

Bonus with their real names:

[slightly-knot-insane]

Truck and Fuck

[ m!monster x fem!reader ]

You just can't help yourself - you have to help people in need. Or monsters.

You stop your car in front of the broken truck and ask the driver hiding underneath the machine does he need any help. It takes him a full minute to haul his heavy body and stand up in front of you, covered in oil and dirt. Seeing his huge frame adorned with more muscles you've ever seen sends a strong throb of pleasure between your legs.

"What can a small human help me with?" he asks with a smirk.

Turns out with a lot of things. Soon, both of you manage to get his massive truck running again. The impressed trucker looks at you and happily offers you a drink inside his vehicle. And you say yes a bit too eagerly for him not to notice.

His cabin is quite roomy and you can enjoy riding his thick cock with no problems. You bounce up and down the full length, moaning and screaming each time your clit hits his sheath. His hairy chest and stomach rub against your tits and sensitive nipples. He is so big, so dirty and nasty - and you love it. He smacks your ass and kneads your thighs and hips, grunting what a fine human you are. He licks his finger and pushes it between your cheeks and it takes a few seconds of fingerfucking for you to cum. He pushes you down, clutching your hips and he splashes his seed inside your spasming walls.

He starts his truck and honks as he leaves you behind. You enter your car, your legs still shaky and cum sticking between your thighs, hoping he'll drive near your town again.

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

warning: aphrodisiac, dubcon, slight yandere behavior

Nagas are cute… I really just like the thought of your naga lover keeping you snuggled up with him all winter, wrapping his tail around you and just smothering you in kisses.

Ofc he makes you keep his cock warm too… after all, he really wants you to bear his children. But he’s mostly trying to stay warm.

There’s always a fire going in his den, and he keeps himself curled up around you. Escaping is futile, you’ll either be his mate or next meal. So you just let him smother you in his love, feeling his fangs sink into your shoulder and neck to keep to placid while he ravishes you.

You’re just so cute when the aphrodisiac in his fangs kicks in, he can’t help but fuck into you like a while animal. Before long you’re begging him to make you cum, to go faster. The friction between your bodies keeps him warm all through the winter, and you’re nice and swollen with his young come spring time.

And the entire time, he’s purring, rubbing against you like a cat, wanting you to cuddle and kiss him. Who knew nagas could be so affectionate?

He just wants you all to himself, and there’s human remains scattered across his den to show you what he does to anyone that touches his precious mate!

[monstersholygrail]

Little Hatchlings

Dragon x fem!human - breeding, pregnancy discussions, cream pie, cockwarming, multiple orgasms.

Dragon husband who has no idea how humans have children like you assumed he did. You thought he had given how often he talked about spilling himself inside of you, how he needed to keep his cock inside you so as to not waste a drop.

But reality comes crashing down as your husband plows into your sloppy and spent cunt while lost in the throes of passion.

Dragon husband angles your hips with his clawed hands, making him reach that much deeper in your walls. You cry out, arms wrapping around his neck to bring him down to your height.

Your body starts to shake as you feel his scales brush against you with every thrust, coming closer to your peak. Breath hot as the fire that leaves his lips rumbles dangerously in your ear.

“Yes, that’s it. Take it. Take my cum and lay my eggs, sweet mate,” he hisses with a ferocious need. “Now be a good girl and paint my cock with your essence.”

As if your body was waiting for his order, you immediately start coming, your pleasure only heightening as you feel his release shoot deep inside your pussy.

It’s only when your Dragon husband wraps his arms around you tightly, molding your form to his, with his deep purrs echoing in your shared den do you realize what he had said.

"Wait— what?" You ask, mind whirling as you come down from your orgasmic high. A rumble moves through your husband’s chest as he nuzzles into your neck.

"Our hatchlings, my mate. I imagine you'll lay them soon after my seed takes root," he explains lowly, hand slowly caressing the curve of your stomach.

"Humans don't lay eggs, darling," you break the news to him before you automatically feel him tense. He looks down at you, worry etched into every line of his beautiful scales.

"Well then-"

"We get pregnant. Our bodies grow as our child does inside of us," you add, resting your hand on top of his on your tummy. Arousal pooling at the base of his member at the idea of him breeding you.

"So your body will begin to grow in size once I have successfully injected you with my seed?" Dragon husband asks slowly, scrambling to understand this change. Yet you can feel his cock hardening inside of you, the ridges on his length already brushing along your walls in a way that has you gasping.

"Yes," you breathe out, so heavily turned on by your husband. Your hands reach up to grasp onto his shoulders, knowing that images are pumping into his head as fast as he's about to be pumping inside your still sopping cunt.

"I shall keep a wary eye out. But until then..." His eyes flicker across your exposed body, his now rock hard cock moving as his hips regain their steady thrusts.

Showing he is more than ready to fuck into you, spilling load after load of hot semen deep inside your core. Not willing to let you rest until he sees your belly swell with proof of your unborn child.

[ckret2]

Chapter 51 of human Bill Cipher is once more the Mystery Shack's prisoner: Dipper and Mabel try to figure out what the Axolotl's poem means; Dipper gets the hang of astral projection; and... whatever's going on up there happens.

####

Ford and Dipper came back into the shack through the gift shop; Ford didn't want to risk crossing paths with Bill. While Dipper went into the house, Ford went down—returning to the safety of his subterranean study.

Once Ford had put on the old black trench coat he'd worn during his multiversal travels and gotten comfortable at his desk, he pulled out Journal 5 to document the events of the last few days. In a cheap ballpoint pen, he wrote, I've lost my #1 Grunkle pen (and favorite coat) to the waters of Lake Gravity Falls. And then, deciding this didn't adequately express his feelings, he drew a small frown. That coat had served him well for decades, and he'd really liked that pen. It did write excellently, and it had reminded him of his gniece and gnephew.

He spent three pages documenting the eclipse—what happened, what readings he'd taken, what he and Dipper observed—and then another four pages talking about Bill. What he'd told them, why Ford had dismissed it; his claims about a trans-dimensional axolotl distorting gravity with its migration; the statue, the rescue, the breakdown.

The act of writing always helped Ford clarify his thoughts and untangle mysteries; it wasn't until he was writing that he realized the limbs Bill had said he couldn't feel were the ones that had broken off the statue.

He listed the rules of the chess variants he could remember Bill inventing. He drew Bill huddled in front of the board, grim, tear-streaked, exhausted; and then scratched out his face, embarrassed at the thought of immortalizing such a raw moment for his private viewing.

He wrote, There's still a slim possibility that the entire "eclipse," start to finish, was Bill's masterfully-orchestrated scheme to make us pity and trust him; but it's unlikely. Although Bill is fiendish enough, he isn't currently powerful enough, and his lies certainly aren't elaborate enough. If he could pull off such a byzantine ruse, then he could just as easily escape—and if he can escape, why hasn't he? Bill may be insane, but he's never been THAT irrational.

And so, even as twisted as Bill's idea of "friendship" is... for the very first time, I'm convinced that he was telling the truth all along when he said he wants me as his friend. It's not an act. He risked his life to save someone who's an active threat to him.

And at the end of it all—though I'm grateful to be alive in spite of my own stubbornness—do I like him any better for it?

Ford leaned back and shut his eyes, sifting through the inner tumult of anger and old hurt that defined most of his memories of Bill, looking to see if anything had changed.

There was a sore, tender spot in his emotions, a place beginning to rot with remorse; when he prodded at those emotions, he found that it was shame over his own harsh conduct of the last couple of days. But he was only ashamed of how cruelly he'd acted; he wasn't ashamed that Bill was the one he'd done it to.

Outside of that tender spot—regret over his own behavior—nothing else had changed.

No. I still hate him. I'm grateful to be alive, but I hate him. He hasn't undone anything he did to my family and me, and he never will. Forgiveness can't be purchased with favors.

I'm only relieved at the certainty of it. Bill has committed an act that can't possibly be a lie. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he's shown me the truth; and the truth is he'd rather see me alive than dead. Whatever other lies he may tell, I can hold on to that fact.

Bill's miserable eyes peered out at Ford between the scribbles he'd drawn across his face. It was truly a pity that Ford had to hate him. Pity that Bill hadn't been somebody better. He could have been better.

Ford couldn't find it in himself to be embarrassed that he'd filled four pages talking about the monster he'd already wasted so many more on. Bill had been right about him: You might hate me to my face, but behind my back you're as obsessed with me as ever. The only thing Bill didn't understand was that hatred and obsession weren't mutually incompatible.

####

"Hey, Dipper," Mabel said, unfolding the living room sofa bed. 

"Hey, Mabel," Dipper said, passing through living room on his way to the stairs. He climbed up to the attic.

He came back down from the attic. "Mabel. Why's Bill asleep in your bed."

"He really needed a nap," Mabel said.

"Okay but why on your bed?"

Mabel pouted. "Dipper, do you realize he's never slept on a real bed? Ever?"

Dipper tried to imagine sleeping on a couple couch cushions on the floor every night. "Yeah, okay, that does kinda suck." Even if it was Bill's own fault he wouldn't sleep in the living room.

By unspoken mutual agreement, having a Bill in the bedroom followed the same law as finding a centipede in the bathroom. The law was "that's the centipede's bathroom now." So once the folding bed was set up, they sat on it to serve as their hang-out spot for the evening and caught each other up on what they'd done the last couple of days.

After Dipper & Co. had left, Grenda had come over to take advantage of the low gravity to retrieve the kite that had been stuck in a tree near the Mystery Shack since last summer (it was, tragically, too tattered to salvage), and then they'd gone over to Candy's house to photograph each other performing feats of impossible strength. (Mabel would be sending some pictures to their parents to confuse them, and adding the rest to her summer scrapbook.) She'd spent the next day breaking the trampoline world record until Soos came outside and said gravity was probably too low for it to be safe to be up in the air anymore, if Bill's warnings about being off the ground when gravity hit zero were true; at which point Mabel had hung around inside air-swimming until she suddenly slammed against the ceiling, and then the ground. She was fine. She just had a couple of bruises. She showed Dipper her bruises.

In return, Dipper told Mabel about how their quest had gone: the checks for micro-rips, Bill's increasingly frantic warnings, the lake—

("You got to see a bajillion magical axolotls and I didn't?!")

—the cliff, the Axolotl, Dipper's near-death experience, and what he now knew about his out-of-body dreams.

"Seriously?" Mabel hissed, eyes bugging out. "And he had us looking up lucid dreaming books! What a jerk!"

"I know! He could have just ignored the whole thing, we didn't even think it was anything but dreams."

"And I'd thought he was being so helpful, too! Like he was really trying to make up for giving you 'nightmares'!" Mabel laughed in disbelief and flopped down on the flimsy mattress. "All that because he just didn't want us to know how it was really his fault? Biiill, ugh."

His fault. Dipper hesitated, wondering whether he should tell Mabel what Bill had said about Mabel's Fault; then decided against it. Bill had probably been telling the truth when he'd said he only wanted all the credit for Weirdmageddon.

But—Dipper did tell her about Bill saving their lives. He would have felt like a liar if he hadn't—like he was trying to trick his sister into thinking Bill was worse than he already was. He hoped Ford wouldn't mind; but how could he not tell Mabel?

"He could have just let you die and didn't?" Mabel turned that over in her head, processing this sudden shift in Bill's behavior. "Wow. I'm impressed."

He also told her about their previous encounter with the Axolotl. Considering the other lies Bill had told recently, anything he said about them meeting the Axolotl was dubious at best; but Dipper could remember the Axolotl, so maybe some of it was true, even if Bill had twisted as much as he could. ("The Axolotl said hi, by the way." "Aww. Tell him hi back!" "Yeah, I... don't know how to do that.")

Dipper laid out his journal between them on the folding bed, and Mabel read over the couplet a few times. "'Sixty degrees that come in threes, watches from within birch trees'..."

"It's got to be talking about Bill," Dipper said. "Equilateral triangles have three sixty-degree angles. I just don't know why the Axolotl wanted to talk to us about him."

Mabel frowned at the lines. "I think... I remember meeting him too," she said.

"You do?"

"Kinda. Like in a dream," she said. "We were in some kind of futury space race car. And he had a really comfortable beanbag chair."

"Yes! I remembered the beanbag chair, too!" And he hadn't mentioned it in his journal. "This is great! Talking about it must... must cause us to remember, somehow. Maybe since the universe where we met the Axolotl doesn't exist anymore, our memories of it are... detached or something? Psychically floating around between dimensions until we try to remember them?" He took in Mabel's skeptical frown and shrugged. "I don't know!"

She scrunched up her face. "Ugh. Last summer's first-grader time travel was complicated enough. This is like college-level time travel. Maybe we can ask Bill how it works?"

She said it so easily, like she thought it was actually a good idea. Right after she'd heard about the lucid dreaming thing, too. "I don't think he'd help." Dipper lowered his voice. "He really didn't want Grunkle Ford and me to find out about the Axolotl—and he kept telling me not to think about what the Axolotl told me. He's trying to cover something up."

"Oo-oo-ooh." Voice dropped to a whisper, Mabel said, "Do you think it's some kind of Space Axolotl conspiracy?"

"It could be," Dipper said. "All I know is he was trying to tell us something important about Bill. Some kind of prophecy, or... maybe a warning...?"

He trailed off. Mabel had stopped listening to Dipper. She was rereading the couplet Dipper had written, moving her lips like she was murmuring under her breath—but whatever she was saying, it was much longer than the couplet Dipper had written down. Distractedly, she said, "Do you have a pen?"

"Yeah, here." Dipper quickly handed over the pen he kept in his vest.

Mabel clicked it, went to the bottom of the page, and wrote: A different form, a different time.

Dipper sucked in a sharp breath as the words snapped into place in his mind. "That's it! That was the last line! What else do you remember?"

"That's it," Mabel said. "It was free form poetry with a bunch of rhyme pairs."

"I don't think free form poetry rhymes."

"Pbbbt." Mabel blew a raspberry and shoved Dipper's face. "Whatever! You know what I mean." She pointed at the last line. "Do you think the poem's about why Bill's here? He time traveled to the Mystery Shack in a new body..."

"Exactly! Bill must be back here for a reason. He's got all those powers—or, used to, anyway—and he knows more about the multiverse than anybody on Earth... Maybe there's some kind of big threat coming, and Bill's the only one who can stop it, and—and the Axolotl wanted us to know...?"

"I like the sound of that," Mabel said. "That'd basically make him a hero, right?"

Dipper grimaced. "I mean. I guess? But we're talking about Bill. If he does help us stop a threat, it'd be like if a serial killer picked up a hitchhiker and killed him, and then it turned out the hitchhiker was an even worse serial killer."

"That still sounds kinda heroic to me."

"Pfff, okay." He looked at his journal. "But... what is he here to do?"

Mabel considered what they'd already written. "Maybe we can use him to spy on our enemies through birch trees!"

"Thaaat's probably not it."

"No, I think I'm on to something. I can feel it."

There was a lot of empty space between his couplet and Mabel's line. "There's more we're missing, though. Maybe the rest of the poem describes the threat? Or what we need to get Bill to do?"

"I can't remember anything else, though."

"Me neither."

They stared at the page together, waiting for something to come to their blank minds. Mabel looked at the fish tank. "Hey, Primrose! Do you know anything?"

The pet axolotl in the tank ignored her serenely.

Dipper said, "'Primrose'?"

"Yeah, last summer Grunkle Stan said her name is Freakface, but I thought she deserved a cuter name. She's primrose color!"

"Ford says he originally named him Nikola."

Mabel gasped. "Nikki..."

Dipper twisted around to look at the axolotl. "Do you know anything? Do you... get messages from the Axolotl's heralds, or anything...?"

Nikola slowly opened his mouth, and slowly closed it.

Mabel said, "Hey. The Axolotl's one of those dimension-crossy time-travely guys, right? He probably wouldn't have given us a prophecy in the wrong timeline and then made us forget it unless he knew we'd remember it in time in the rightdimension!"

"I guess," Dipper said uncertainly.

"So we don't need to worry about it! We'll remember it when we need to."

"Unless this timeline's going to branch, and the only one where we survive is the one where we put all our effort into trying to remembering—"

"Shhh!" Mabel put a finger over Dipper's mouth. "Uh-uh. No college time travel. We'll be fine!"

Dipper pushed her over. "Okay, but we should at least try a little to remember what the Axolotl told us."

"What if we work on it separately?" Mabel propped herself up on an elbow. "Instead of just sitting around thinking about it. And whenever we remember a line, we can tell each other and see if it makes anything click."

"That might be faster," Dipper said, stroking his chin. "We're already remembering different lines."

"Yeah! And that lucid dreaming book said something about focusing on a problem before you sleep so you can figure it out in your dreams! We can just work on it in our sleep and we'll remember it all in no time!"

Dipper laughed. "What? No way, I think lucid dreaming is just one of those made up pop psychology things. I didn't get it to work at all." Either it didn't work or Bill had deliberately recommended a terrible book.

"I did! I can remember like... eighty percent more dreams. And I can tell when I'm dreaming a lot more often!"

"Huh." Or, maybe Dipper just wasn't doing it right. "Maybe I need to start over from step one. Do you know where the book we were using went?"

"Over here!" Mabel had set a couple library books on the end table next to the sofa bed; she pulled out the second one, which had a glittery pink bookmark with a cat on it stuck two-thirds of the way through. "Just don't lose my bookmark."

"Thanks." He'd reread the first step before bed. "We should probably be getting ready for bed anyway, huh?"

"Seriously?! It's barely bedtime!" And when the adults weren't watching, official bedtime was an hour and a half before Actual Bedtime.

"I'm exhausted. I just hiked up and down a mountain and faced down death."

Mabel pointed at Nikola. "You faced down a big salamander."

"Close enough."

They went upstairs, brushed their teeth, went to their bedroom...

And stopped in the door. Bill was still asleep. "Oh. Right," Dipper said.

He was curled into a ball on his left side, facing the wall, covered with only the zodiac blanket and his borrowed/stolen top hat sitting on the side of his head. He didn't use a pillow; he'd pushed Mabel's pillows and dolls behind himself to form a squishy makeshift fortress.

"Please don't wake him up," Mabel whispered. (She'd already set up the folding bed for herself; she'd clearly planned on this.) "He's had a really really hard time the last couple of days, and I think he needs as much sleep in a real bed as he can get, and it's just for one night, and I'm sure he'd rather sleep than do anything evil—"

"He said something, didn't he?"

Mabel paused. "Yeah. I think seeing his body really messed him up."

Dipper sighed. "We were trying to keep him away from it." He didn't want Mabel to think they'd forced him to stare his own death in the face. "But he did that... eye thing and looked through the trees, and..."

Mabel nodded.

Well. Dipper couldn't kick him out now. For Mabel's sake.

As children, occasionally when they got hotel rooms with a bed too few, their parents would stick them in one bed with a barrier of pillows in between them. At age thirteen and without two crabby parents trying to get them to just go to bed after a long plane flight, they unanimously vetoed that plan. Dipper decided against asking Stan if he could sleep in Ford's unoccupied bed, both because he suspected Stan would just go upstairs and drag Bill out of the room and because he didn't want Stan to think he was scared of Bill. He wasn't scared of Bill. Not anymore. He could handle one measly night in the same room as him. Anyway, somebody had to make sure he wasn't unsupervised in their bedroom all night, right?

Dipper and Mabel quietly set a floor mirror and old lamp next to Mabel's bed, draped a sheet between them, taped on a pink poster that said "WARNING! TRIANGLE ZONE!" and was covered in stickers of triangular objects, and decided Dipper was adequately shielded. If Bill did get up during the night, he'd probably trip through the sheet and wake half the house before he got anywhere near Dipper.

Dipper went to sleep with a baseball bat in his hands.

####

"Okay," Bill said, hands on his sides, "what am I looking at here?"

The feral band members of Sev'ral Timez turned toward Bill, eyes reflecting in the dim light. They were squatting around Bill's petrified corpse like a pack of apes examining a sleek black monolith.

"Hey girl," Creggy G. said.

"Hey," Bill said. He looked down at himself. His onyx black feet hovered over the ground and the yellow glow from his exoskeleton illuminated the clearing. "Lemme cut to the chase, is this gonna turn into a raunchy dream? My corporeal love life is about as cold and dry as Antarctica, I keep hoping one of my dreams will get a little hotter and wetter—"

"Nah, G," Deep Chris said. "Mr. Bratsman got us fixed."

"Aw."

"We're here to pay you reverence for freeing our minds from the chains of the conventional," Greggy C said, gesturing to Bill's corpse. Leggy P was kneeling and bowing to it and Chubby Z was posing for it. "We want to help free you like you tried to help free humanity."

Bill's eye narrowed. He tapped a finger against the edge of one brick as he considered this offer. Finally, skeptically, he said, "Fine. I'll bite. Why should I think you can help me?"

"Because we can give you the understanding your heart's been missing, girl. You're just like us," Chubby Z said. "A horror never meant to exist, born of a dream to construct the perfect golden idol, forced to dwell within an unnaturally-fabricated human shell."

Bill tilted his head thoughtfully. "I'm with you so far."

"We want you to join us," Deep Chris said. "Cavort with us in the silvan night, G. Shun the harsh light of the spotlight for the healing salve of moonbeams. We'll get drunk on the sweet fermented summer berries, uncaring of how the brambles prick our flesh. We'll dance in a frenzy of ecstasy and only sleep when the morning sun lifts the dew from the flowers and the sweat from our skin. It'll be straight Dionysian, boo."

"We can kiss the hot trees," Creggy G said.

Bill grabbed his shoulder. "Oh, you're the human that keeps making out with birch trees! I knew your face was familiar!" He paused. "So... are there any eligible ones around here?"

"Sure, girl, just downstream."

"If I'd known, I would've polished myself first."

"Say you'll join us, Bill girl," Deep Chris said. The band crowded around Bill to either side, posing around him—the backup dancers for the star singer. "You'd be one of us."

"We're already exactly the same," Creggy G said, holding up a mirror so that it reflected his and Bill's faces beside each other. In Bill's human face were two empty white eyes with pinprick pupils and pale blue irises, exactly the same as the eyes of the Sev'ral Timez boys.

He sat up with a gasp, hands flying to his face. There were still green boughs at the edges of his dreaming vision, blending into the wooden boards of the Mystery Shack's attic. Before sleep had fully fled his mind, he seized up the zodiac blanket draped over his body and stared into his embroidered eye.

The eye stared back at him. Through it, he could see his horrified sleepy face, and his normal slitted yellow eyes. His connection to the blanket's eye disappeared as he finished waking up.

He heaved a sigh of relief and flopped back down. He'd been lucid, but he hadn't been in control of that dream. He still needed practice.

He rolled toward the light of the window, groped around beneath it until he found his journal, grabbed up his crayons, and flipped pages blearily until he found the first blank one. He started writing down his dream, pausing only briefly as he tried to figure out how to translate "Sev'ral Timez" before settling on a sufficiently goofy way to misspell "several times" in Plaintext.

He made it halfway down the page before he stopped. Hold on. This wasn't his beautiful journal. These were not his beautiful crayons. He checked the cover and grimaced in displeasure when he saw a pine tree rather than a hand. Dipper's journal. Bill ripped out the page, ate it, and set the journal and Mabel's crayons back on the table  under the bedroom window.

"What was that," Dipper asked, "some kind of Morse code?"

Bill yelped and twisted around. Dipper's soul was hovering above Mabel's headboard, watching over Bill's shoulder.

"Hey! Back, foul ghost!" Bill snatched up Mabel's pillow and swung it at Dipper.

"Ow—Hey! How did you hit me, I'm in the mindscape—"

"I said back!" Bill swung again, chasing Dipper off the bed. "Back into your fleshy tomb!" He climbed off the bed, stumbled into Dipper and Mabel's trap, tripped through the sheet and probably woke up half the house.

He yanked the sheet off and flung the pillow at Dipper by its corner. "Now get back in your body, go to sleep, and leave me alone."

"I don't know how to get back in it. I just wait until it happens by itself," Dipper said, floating irritably over his sleeping body, arms crossed. "Why do you think I just wander around every time I have this dream?" He paused. "Right—it's not a dream, is it."

Bill sighed heavily. "Try putting your body on like..." He almost said like an exoskeleton, remembered his audience, and amended himself: "Like it's clothing. I usually start with the hands. Just like putting on gloves!"

Dipper looked at the cold fingers wrapped tightly around the baseball bat. "How do I put hands on like gloves? There's no opening or—"

"Just try it, would you?" Bill sat tiredly on the edge of Mabel's bed.

Dipper shot him an irritated look, but pressed his ghostly hands against his fleshly ones, passing through the skin until one set of fingers rested inside the other. A fingertip twitched. 

Bill gestured with one hand, continue. "Now the sleeves."

"I know how to get dressed." Dipper laid down in his body, forearm into forearm, shoulder into shoulder—until he was wholly back inside. He sat up, awake. "Huh."

"There, see?" Bill said. "And if you want to take it back off, just do the same thing in reverse. Like degloving your body from your soul!"

"Did you have to phrase it like that?" Still, Dipper tried it, peeling out of his body from the fingertips up. He left his body sitting upright as he hovered over it.

Bill chuckled tiredly. "Lookit your face, staring at nothing. Stupid looking."

"Shut up." He slid back into his body, more quickly now that he knew what he was doing.

"Great," Bill said. "Now that you know how to get back in your body, never do that again." He flopped back onto Mabel's bed and rolled over to face the wall. "It's a pain in my base having you wander around all night."

"Then you should've thought of that before you ripped my soul out of my body," Dipper grumbled. "Can you reattach me to my body?"

"Sure, easy." He lifted a hand to point down at his regrettably human form. "Not like this, though. Wanna help reattach me to my body?"

"Never in a million years."

"Then come back in a million years. There's nothing I can do for you until then." Bill dragged Mabel's zodiac blanket back over himself. "So sorry. Go to sleep. Leave me alone."

Dipper bet Bill could do it and was only saying he couldn't to try to trick Dipper into helping him. But he lay back down—clutching his bat again—and shut his eyes.

After a moment, Bill asked, "Where's Mabel? Sleepover?"

"Sofa bed in the living room."

"Right."

And then there was silence.

Several minutes passed. Dipper nearly fell back asleep. He heard Bill climbing out of bed and creeping across the room; but the footsteps didn't approach Dipper's bed, so he didn't open his eyes.

A few minutes after that, Dipper heard him come back, walking more heavily. He cracked open an eye to see what Bill was up to.

He was carrying Mabel, who was still asleep; his arms were trembling from her weight, but even at that Dipper hadn't known Bill was that strong. With a quiet grunt, he set her on her bed, then haphazardly tossed her sheet and zodiac blanket over her. He picked up his top hat from the bed and put it on; and then he wandered off, footsteps quiet as a ghost, and Dipper heard the creak of the door as he left the bedroom.

That was a lot nicer than Dipper had expected from Bill. Maybe he did care about Mabel in his own way.

Mabel rolled over and latched on to one of her dolls. Dipper shut his eye and fell back asleep.

####

(My favorite part of writing this was Bill dreaming about Sev'ral Timez saying the most absurdly flowery things imaginable. Anyway, let me know what y'all think about this week's chapter! And reminder that I MIGHT skip next week or the week after because the next couple chapters need heavier editing than usual.)

[thrasherella]

Going from a human boyfriend that only eats you out out of obligation and isn’t really into it to a Werewolf Boyfriend who gets so excited about being able to eat you out that he’ll go for hours if you let him and he’s rock hard the entire time.

Yes, he wants to fuck you of course, but you taste so fucking sweet it’s hard to tear himself away.

...

"Wait!" she cried out, panting as she tried to catch her breath, face incredibly hot as a telltale crimson flush overtook her cheeks. He paused, looking up at her from between her thighs, the way he was making those puppy dog eyes at her driving her crazy. "I..." she hesitated, biting at her lower lip softly and breaking their eye contact; oh Christ this is so embarrassing...

"My last boyfriend, aahhh...heeee said that I, um, I don't taste good--" she could feel her voice staring to get choked up in her throat as the tears welled and threatened to spill down her cheeks, but before she could say another word his mouth was on her, and she gasped sharply, head falling back as his tongue drove straight into her soft walls, lapping at the arousal already dripping from her.

"What a fucking loser," he muttered into her, his hot breath causing her to shiver. "You taste like a piece of fucking candy...so sweet..." he gave a long, low moan as his tongue returned to her tight cunt, his cock swollen and dripping, begging for his attention, but he ignored his own needs for now. There would be plenty of time to stretch this pretty pink hole around his dick later; right now there was a feast to be had...

Her mind turned to static as he made out with her pussy, a symphony of ambrosial tones cascading from her lips; it was music to his ears. She hadn't known that this could feel so good, her blood running molten hot as his tongue plundered and tasted her relentlessly, pushing so deep he bumped up against her cervix, making her gasp and twitch; sharp teeth occasionally raking against her sensitive clit, her hips rolling and bucking as she squirmed beneath him deliciously. Chris had only ever put in the minimal effort when it came to eating her, acting like it was such a bothersome chore; this was like being worshipped, his lips taking full advantage of her, tongue filling her completely, those sharp, dangerous teeth testing her skin gently, lightning dancing along her spine as he threatened to break her skin but never did. She hoped she would bare his bruises tomorrow...

He let out little whimpers and groans that only fueled the wildfire that was raging out of control within her core, sucking her soft skin delicately, growling and grinding himself into the mattress in wonderfully agonizing anticipation.

He made her cum so many times she couldn't keep count; clawed fingers of one hand rubbing her swollen and throbbing clit until she was practically screaming, the other hand reaching up to tease and pinch her hardened nipples. She was unable to think as she came over and over against his mouth, onto his hand, soaking his face and the bedsheets with her sweet juices.

He desperately tried to lap up every last drop...

[ozzgin]

It is the 19th century and you are returning home by ship. Before you embark, you happen to find a glowing shell abandoned by the docks. It seems that the sea creatures are searching for it. Or maybe it's something else they're interested in. content: gender neutral reader, violence, dubious consent, based on Return of the Obra Dinn

January 1802 What's the matter with me, I wonder? As if my luggage wasn't heavy enough already, I had to drag around a big shell of sorts. Found it by the docks while I waited for my ship to arrive. It has a strange glow to it, this shell. Can't quite place it.

January 1802 Cheeky bastards! The seamen are such a flirt. From the moment I stepped onto the main deck, a handful of them haven't dropped the whistles and stares. One of the topmen - I recall he's Scottish? - he's been pestering me about the ship. "I'll show ye around, can't find a better guide," he says. His mates laugh and clap to his petty attempts.

February 1802 Some of the sailors are dying from lung illness. I was on the orlop deck, playing cards with the three Russians, when the surgeon rushed to one of the cabins ahead. "If it was contagious, we'd all have it by now. Damned if I know what it is, or where it comes from," I could hear him groan. I wondered out loud if I might catch it myself, but then I noticed one of 'em rascals trying to cheat the cards. February 1802 I saw it again tonight. Ever since we launched from Falmouth, as soon as the sun sets, there's an eerie glimmer in the distance. It reminds me of this damned shell. Are my eyes playing tricks on me? Oh, the sea is so terrifying in the dark. There's nothing but black stretching all around. My window is low; whenever the waves break against it, the wooden walls let out a groan that awakens me from the deepest slumber. Surgeon gave me pills to sleep. The creaks of the ship sound like a weeping maiden. February 1802 I think the cursed glow is getting closer. I couldn't sleep anymore, so I snuck onto the main deck. Scotsman found me wandering towards the bow, so he quietly hoisted me up by the waist. I thought he'd tell the Captain, but he sat me on the lower rigging, next to him, and we listened to the waves. I was afraid I'd fall off, but he kept a steady hand on me. I wish I could tell him about the light stalking our ship. Would he think I'm mad?

February 1802 Second Mate returned today on a small boat. We heard shouts coming from upstairs, so we rushed to see what was happening. Bosun had his pistol readied next to the Captain, and the sailors lifted the cargo from below. I thought I was dreaming at first. Some creatures, unholy beings, were caught in the net. They had the body of a human, but thick, fish tails covered in spikes. One of the Formosan passengers muttered something in Chinese, and some of the tail spikes suddenly pierced him dead. The old Miss next to me fainted on the spot, and the stewards urged us to leave. Right before I turned, I noticed one of the beasts pointing at me. It had a monstrous grin on its face. Oh, what a sight! The Scotsman guided me away, but I can't forget those eyes. Was it malice? Such an intense stare, burning straight into my soul. Now that I'm writing all this, a memory has come to mind: the creature had the same shell as mine, dangling from its neck.

February 1802 The pills no longer work. I can't rest anymore. Every time I close my eyes, I hear its wretched voice, calling me from the lazarette. That's where they locked those sea monsters. It sings nonsense, blasphemous lies. We're not fated soulmates. I've nothing to do with those devils. I should've never picked up the shell. I can only pray we reach land soon.

March 1802 God, oh God, what disaster has befallen us? I don't have much time. The gun deck is in shambles, more than half the crew dead. Underwater beasts have crawled their way up our ship; strange humans with spears, saddled on top of crabs larger than I've ever seen. The poor midshipman, oh, a young boy! He set himself on fire to stop the nightmarish fiend. Threw the lamp across the floor, and the flames swallowed both of them up. I scrambled up on the main deck, but there was no peace to be found; colossal tentacles sprawled around the ship, pulling the rigging apart, tearing humans like insects. The Captain's wife was struck by a falling pillar, I saw her crumble right before me. Scotsman is still alive, but his arm is missing a good chunk of it. I don't know where to find the surgeon.

March 1803 They left. They took the last boat, I only found out this morning. I tried to join them, but one of the sailors stopped me. "Witch," he shouted at me, "the beast down by the cargo hold screams your name. You must've called it here, brought this curse upon us." I don't know what he's talking about. Tonight I'm going to the lazarette, I can no longer bear the calling. This blasted fiend, oh, he's ruined me. I'll rot on this wreck. Mother, I don't think I'll ever reach the shore.

Your steps are hesitant as you tiptoe your way around the dried blood and debris, until you reach the locked chambers. The door is bent and folded away, as if hit by a great force. You do indeed notice the round prints against the rusty surface: giant suckers from a blasphemous being.

There he is, the wicked varmint who plagues your sleep! A pale creature is propped up, halfway out of the water, welcoming you with a toothy grin. The shell around his neck glows mockingly.

You throw your own shell at him. The small, ivory object rolls with a hollow thud.

"Is this what you wanted, damned monster?"

"Why, what am I to do with two?"

His voice is harsh and deep, rapping against your eardrums, scratching the inside of your head.

"I've been waiting for you. Can't leave this place without my beloved, can I?"

"There you go again with this nonsense. Villain! Drown me if you must, but spare me your deceit."

His smile falters, eyes narrowing in a frown.

"Is that how you find my love? Some petty lie told by a charlatan? Ungrateful brat, who do you think freed you from their shackles? Who do you suspect has summoned the leviathan, from the deepest trenches of the sea, to save your mortal soul?"

"The kraken left with the storm," you counter as the blood drains from your face. Could it be that you were to blame, after all?

"No, it left after the bargain."

He pulls himself up and sits on the edge of his former cage. You observe his features in mild awe: the texture of his skin, the dark locks of hair reaching all the way to the tail, the spikes breaking out of the thick, hard scales.

"What bargain," you ask fearfully.

"The last ones are free to escape, if they leave you to me."

Why, your horrified expression is not quite something he expected. Surely one must feel relief once their freedom has been guaranteed. And not just any kind of freedom - you've been returned to your soulmate.

He's spent weeks chasing the currents, trailing the faint glow in the distance. He hasn't stopped once, tail pushing forward to the promise of a reunion.

Yet, you seem unsure. Perhaps his approach has been too hurried, too nonchalant. You need a little bit of convincing, and he happens to be a master of courting.

His thorax suddenly expands, and you can almost hear the twisting sound of his ribs cracking and breaking under the pressure. A sweet voice rolls out of his mouth, a song you've never heard before. Your heart pounds tremendously, threatening to burst out of your chest, and a foreign panic floods your senses.

Despite your desire to flee, your lids are heavy, eyes slowly closing. Through your lashes, you can discern the beast crawling towards you, the same defiant grin plastered on his face.

It's time for you to come home.

[frownyalfred]

Batfamily/Superfamily angst fic where one of the Supes (Jon? Kon?) takes off too quickly/recklessly next to one of the Batkids and accidentally ruptures their eardrum and Bruce goes on the warpath for Clark about it.