#ghosts can purr

[void-of-unparalled-chaos]

Rending Flesh From the Bone

Ah yes, the dpxdc "drabble" I decided to write for Halloween. Honestly not too enthused with how it came out but posting it anyway. I feel like some parts feel a bit rushed and there might be some plotholes. Oh well. As always, feel free to add on if you so desire.

TW: Gore, Cannibalism, Vomiting, Zalgo Text

Translations for the Zalgo are available at the end.

AO3 version

   “Are you sure about this, Hood?”

   Dick stared at the entrance of the abandoned subway tunnel, Jason practically vibrating out of his armor beside him. 

   For once, it was Jason who had broken into Dick’s apartment and not the other way around. He was rambling something about the Joker and needing Dick’s help, and who was Dick to say no? His little brother never sought him out on his own, let alone asked for his help. Never. Dick was so proud! If he rewarded this behavior then maybe Jason would do it again, and somehow that would lead to Dick being able to give him his highly sought-after best big brother hugs whenever he wanted. Dick was still figuring out the intermediate steps.

  The point is that Dick needed to help him, regardless of if this was all based on a gut feeling and not even a whisper that the Joker was around let alone planning anything. What the hell, Dick thought. Sometimes gut feelings are right, and push comes to shove, Dick will follow Red Hood around Gotham until his paranoia dies down. Then Dick can lovingly bully him into brother bonding time.

   So here they were, staring into the gaping mouth of an unused tunnel.

   There are worse ways he could have spent his night.

   Jason grunts, fists clenched as they gaze into the blackness. “It’s almost Halloween. You know how these freaks get this time of year.”

   Dick concedes the point.  

   “Come on,” Jason bumps against his shoulder as he stalks toward the blackness, “He’s down there I just know it.”

   Dick shrugs and follows him in.

   Something about it is oppressive. Like something is warning them to turn back or face the consequences. Dick swallows. He shouldn’t be getting so worked up over this. He had been in closed dark spaces like this before, tighter ones even! 

  “Dick.”

   Jason is pointing to the ground. Dark splatters. Blood. Fresh, and more than just a little nosebleed. 

   They make their way further in, following the convenient blood trail even as the urge to turn around gets stronger. They only walk a few feet before a loud scream breaks the silence.

   “I fucking told ya Nightwing!” 

   Dick grunts in response as they sprint down the tunnel, following the blood down twists and turns.

   The two vigilantes slide to a stop as the tunnel breaks into a new one. There is something in this new tunnel. Something large and glowing. The Joker is screaming as it bats him around. 

   Dick can’t bring himself to do anything but freeze, watching and assessing. 

   The first thing he sees is the crown. It floats crookedly above the creature’s white hair, bathing the tunnel in light with its green fiery glow. The being’s face almost looks humanoid, with long ears tapering into points. Its body is long and spindly like a man who had been left starving on an island for several weeks. The vertebrae in its neck are visible even underneath its skin. The spinous processes of the vertebrae break through the flesh, creating a long row of protruding bones that clack and rattle as the spine moves. Its pelvis juts out as if only a thin layer of skin is covering it. The ribcage is on the outside of its body like some kind of fucked up turtle shell. Space was underneath it, the purples and blues of nebulas and the blackness of night and twinkling stars and planets rested underneath the bones.

  The creature has the Joker by the neck. It reminds Dick of a cat Damian had fostered, one that had kittens and would carry them gently between her jaws. There is nothing gentle about this though. Red blood drips down to the ground as the Joker thrashes to try and free himself. The jaws tighten viciously around him and the creature shakes, flinging him around like a chew toy before slamming him down into the ground with a growl.

   A skull flashes underneath its face as if its skin and cartilage are merely a transparent overlay. Sharp, jagged bone peaks rise up smoothly from its mandible in a mimicry of teeth.

   The creature’s jaws are still wrapped around the Joker’s throat. He’s scrambling, screeching underneath the being despite the teeth that should be cutting into his vocal cords.  The Joker scratches at its chest, trying to push it away. It merely makes a low staticky hissing noise, one of its hands pinning him down by the shoulder. 

    The other arm raises upwards in the air. It's too long for the body of the creature, fingers tapering into sharp points. 

   The claws slash downwards. 

   The Joker choked on a scream as the digits tore his chest open like it were tissue paper. Mouth still wrapped around his throat, the being flipped a flap of skin and fat upwards like it was turning the page of a book. 

   The Joker continued to struggle, blood and something green gurgling out of his mouth. The being maneuvered itself until it crouched to Joker’s side, twisting his neck with it. 

  The Joker stilled.

   At first, Dick thought he was dead, but then he saw movement inside his chest wound. 

   His lungs.

   His lungs were still moving.

   Dick can see his lungs breathing.

   The creature reaches its hand back down into the Joker’s chest, wrenching the ribcage open with a snap. The Joker begins to struggle once more, red blood and green liquid splattering on the ground.

   One of the clawed hands replaced its teeth, pinning the Joker’s head down as it stuck its face inside the chest cavity. The Joker suddenly froze. When its face remerged a glowing violet orb was held between its teeth. Red and green dripped from its face.

   The green was familiar.

   Glowing green.

   …

   …Lazarus water?

   The tooth-like protrusions pierce the orb with a crack.

   The Joker falls silent.

   His lungs are no longer moving.

   The being’s head tilts back, the shattered orb disappearing down its gullet. It hunches back down over the corpse. The slimy wet sounds of its hands and head digging into the body are sickening. Dick watches as its head remerges with what looks like a kidney. The kidney follows the orb.

   Dick snaps out of his shock, but not quick enough to muffle his strangled gasp. 

   The being catches sight of them, green eyes, lazarus green, boring into them. Dick can see the dark hollows of the skull’s orbits underneath them. His head pounds.

   The creature began to stand. Its joints, too many joints, creaked as it unfolded its legs. It seemed like it struggled to maneuver its stiff limbs. Like it’s fighting against rigor mortis Dick noted absently.  

   Now standing at full height, the being’s crown nearly scraped the top of the ten-foot ceiling. Its maw parted, blue vapor billowing out between the spiked protrusions that were its teeth. The putrid stench of death and burning flesh that invaded the tunnel had Dick gagging. He quietly covered his mouth as he tried to bite back the bile in his throat.

   He glanced back at his brother to find that Jason had taken a step back. It was impossible to see his expression under the helmet, but Dick could read the tightening of his shoulders. Fear. Deep, primal fear. The kind of fear you feel when you know there are no more options. When you know fighting or running is pointless.

   Here, at this moment, the infamous Red Hood looked less like a feared crime lord vigilante and more like a one-week-old gazelle face to face with a lion.

   Dick reached to pull Jason out of sight but the pounding between his eyes made him uncoordinated. He tripped over his own feet and crashed into Jason’s side, gripping his shoulder with shaking fingers as he righted himself. Jason didn’t budge, remaining stock still despite the extra weight of his older brother against him. 

   The creature stared at them, the piercing green glow of its eyes brightening with a spur of power. Its head tilted to the side until it came to rest at well over ninety degrees. A pointed, frostbitten tongue lolled out between its teeth to lick its bloodied face clean.

   “C̷o̷m̶p̴a̵n̵y̵?̵” It sounded like the desolation of space, the static of electricity, the explosion of a star, the final screech before death.

   The space trapped in its chest began to bleed through its ribs, twinkling stars and asteroids and galaxies escaping the confines of their prison to drip down the being’s waist. It ran over its legs, building and thickening until a long serpentine tail had replaced the limbs entirely. Even as the coils moved, the stars and planets stayed in place as if the tail was merely a window. Watching it made Dick motion sick.

  Even as the elongated spines stretching out of its back clanked together in the mimicry of a death rattle, the creature made no move toward them. Another puff of foul-smelling mist escaped its mouth.

   “Y̶o̷u̸ ̶s̵h̴o̷u̴l̵d̶ ̴b̶e̵ ̸m̴o̴r̷e̸ ̴c̷a̴r̸e̴f̴u̷l̵,̷ ̸l̴i̴t̷t̶l̷e̸ ̶g̶h̸o̷s̴t̶l̷i̸n̷g̸.̸” It’s voice boomed, “Y̴o̸u̵ ̶a̸r̶e̵ ̷n̷o̶ ̷m̵a̸t̸c̶h̴ ̷f̴o̵r̴ ̸m̶o̵s̷t̷ ̴s̸p̵i̴r̴i̷t̴s̴ ̵a̸s̸ ̷y̵o̵u̵n̷g̴ ̴a̷s̶ ̶y̶o̵u̶ ̷a̸r̵e̵.̷ ̷E̶s̸p̷e̸c̵i̶a̶l̴l̷y̶ ̶n̴o̵t̷ ̴o̶n̴ ̶S̵a̶m̷h̷a̶i̷n̷.̶”

   The two brothers remained frozen in place. The stars in its tail flickered until millions of eyes were boring into Dick’s soul. With a stuttering gasp, Dick stepped back again. Jason refused to budge despite his urging. The next time Dick blinked the eyes were stars again.

   The being chuckled at them, “N̵o̴ ̴n̶e̸e̵d̷ ̵t̵o̶ ̵f̸e̸a̶r̵,̸ ̵g̸h̵o̶s̶t̶l̸i̴n̴g̶.̸ ̴I̸ ̵d̴o̵ ̷n̶o̶t̴ ̶w̶i̸s̵h̴ ̵y̸o̴u̸ ̷n̷o̵r̴ ̸y̴o̶u̴r̸ ̴f̵r̸a̷i̵d̷ ̴h̵a̵r̷m̸.̶” Dick found that hard to believe considering that they had just watched it eat the Joker’s kidney, “Y̸o̵u̴ ̸a̷r̴e̵ ̵v̵e̸r̸y̶ ̴l̵u̶c̸k̶y̴ ̶i̶t̵ ̴w̷a̴s̴ ̴m̶e̵ ̸w̴h̷o̸ ̸y̶o̷u̵ ̷c̸a̸m̷e̴ ̵a̶c̴r̷o̸s̸s̵ ̶r̸a̴t̷h̷e̵r̸ ̷t̵h̵a̷n̴ ̴a̵n̷o̴t̶h̶e̶r̵ ̷s̴p̷i̸r̸i̴t̸.̵ ̷M̶a̷n̶y̶ ̵w̴o̸u̶l̴d̸ ̷h̸a̶v̸e̷ ̵e̷a̷t̴e̴n̵ ̸y̸o̴u̶ ̴b̵y̷ ̵n̴o̴w̶.̴”

  “I-” Jason finally choked out, “What?”

  The being lowered itself until it was at eye level with Jason. It evaluated him once more before jerking back with what seemed to be an expression of surprise. “O̷h̷ ̸l̵i̶t̷t̵l̷e̵ ̴g̴h̴o̶s̴t̴,̶ ̶y̶o̶u̴ ̸a̴r̵e̸ ̵m̴u̸c̴h̴ ̸y̸o̷u̸n̴g̴e̴r̶ ̵t̶h̷a̶n̸ ̶I̵ ̵h̸a̷d̸ ̴t̵h̵o̵u̸g̸h̵t̵!̵ ̴Y̴o̵u̶r̵ ̷c̵o̴r̸e̵ ̵i̴s�� ̷n̸e̷w̶ ̶a̷n̷d̵ ̸u̶n̶d̴e̷r̵n̴o̸u̸r̶i̶s̸h̵e̴d̴.̶ ̸N̴o̵ ̴w̸o̴n̸d̵e̶r̶ ̷I̷ ̴h̵a̸d̴ ̷n̵o̷t̴ ̴s̸e̸n̴s̵e̵d̵ ̸y̸o̶u̶ ̶b̷e̵f̵o̷r̷e̶!̴ ̶H̵a̵v̷e̶ ̶y̶o̷u̴ ̷b̵e̵e̵n̵ ̶e̸a̷t̸i̷n̴g̶?̸”

   Its tone seemed almost doting, motherly even. The image was broken by the fact that it was currently leaning closer toward them, supporting itself on what was left of the Joker’s exposed ribcage. 

   Jason shook his head in dumbfounded horror.

  The creature seemed to take it as an answer, humming in what felt like parental disappointment. “Y̶o̶u̷ ̵n̵e̴e̴d̸ ̶t̷o̷ ̷t̶a̵k̸e̵ ̷b̴e̸t̵t̵e̸r̶ ̷c̸a̶r̸e̴ ̶o̷f̶ ̸y̴o̴u̴r̵s̸e̷l̶f̴,̴ ̵l̷i̸t̴t̷l̶e̵ ̶g̶h̵o̸s̵t̴.̵ ̵I̵'̴v̸e̴ ̴n̵e̸v̴e̶r̸ ̸s̵e̵e̵n̷ ̴s��u̶c̵h̵ ̸a̶n̴ ̸u̶n̷d̷e̸r̶n̶o̴u̸r̸i̸s̵h̸e̵d̶ ̷c̶o̶r̷e̴.̸ ̷Y̷o̶u̴ ̸m̴u̶s̷t̷ ̸b̷e̷ ̷a̵b̵l̷e̸ ̴t̸o̴ ̸f̸e̸e̶l̷ ̸t̶h̵e̸ ̸e̸f̷f̵e̷c̷t̵s̴.̶ ̵A̴r̴e̴ ̶y̴o̴u̶ ̴i̵n̸ ̸p̸a̵i̴n̶?̴”

   Dick knew that he was. If it wasn’t the emotional torment of the pit madness it was chronic pain. There had been many nights where he had to tend to his brother, trying everything from painkillers to ice packs to numbing cream in an attempt to stop it.

   Jason nodded hesitantly, “Yes…” he took his helmet off, letting it drop to the ground. His eyes were burning lazarus green, “It hurts all the time… like there’s a fire burning in my chest. It gets hotter and hotter and hotter until I feel like my brain is gonna melt outta my ears.”

   The creature slithered closer with a rumbling coo. It offered a hand to Jason. Its fingers curled unnaturally. It looked like it had an extra knuckle. “C̷o̷m̷e̴ ̵h̸e̷r̸e̴,̵ ̸g̴h̷o̴s̵t̷l̷i̸n̸g̶.̴ ̴I̷ ̷w̶i̴l̶l̸ ̸s̸h̴a̸r̸e̴ ̷m̶y̶ ̸c̷a̴t̵c̶h̴.̷ ̷I̵ ̷c̵a̴n̷ ̶s̶e̴n̴s̴e̵ ̸t̵h̴e̸ ̵c̴o̵n̷n̸e̵c̴t̶i̷o̷n̷ ̶t̴h̴i̵s̵ ̷r̸e̸v̷e̷n̴a̴n̸t̴ ̴h̴a̶s̸ ̸t̷o̷ ̸y̶o̶u̵.̶ ̷A̸s̸ ̵y̷o̷u̶r̴ ̷k̷i̵l̸l̶e̶r̶,̶ ̵f̵e̸a̵s̷t̴i̴n̸g̶ ̸o̴n̷ ̵h̵i̷m̶ ̸w̷i̴l̵l̵ ̴h̷a̸v̶e̷ ̶e̸x̶t̸r̶a̴ ̶b̶e̷n̸e̵f̸i̵t̷s̴.̸”

   Jason reaches out to accept the hand. Dick throws himself between them, “Little Wing, what the hell! You aren’t seriously going to… you're not…”

   “I… I need it, Dick.” Jason wiped drool from his lips. Dick caught the flash of fanged teeth, sharper than they should have been. “I don’t know how to explain it but I just- I’m so fucking hungry.”

   Dick… Dick wasn’t scared of Jason. He wasn’t. But at that moment, he felt like he needed to run. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t abandon his little brother to this…thing.

   “I̸ ̵u̶n̵d̴e̸r̶s̸t̵a̷n̴d̵ ̷y̶o̴u̶r̴ ̸a̵p̶p̷r̸e̶h̴e̷n̶s̷i̵o̸n̵.̵” the being addressed him, Dick struggled to look it in the eyes, the pounding of his head increasing, “A̶s̷ ̷a̷ ̶l̴i̷v̵i̴n̷g̴ ̷i̸t̸ ̴f̴e̵e̶l̸s̷ ̴w̷r̶o̶n̶g̵,̶ ̶s̴i̶c̵k̴e̴n̴i̶n̵g̴ ̶e̴v̷e̷n̸.̷ ̴I̸t̷ ̵t̷o̸o̶k̷ ̸m̵e̴ ̶a̶ ̷l̶o̸n̴g̸ ̸t̵i̴m̷e̵ ̵t̵o̸ ̷c̵o̵m̶e̶ ̶t̶o̴ ̷t̷e̸r̷m̸s̸ ̸w̶i̶t̴h̸ ̴i̸t̴.̷ ̵I̶ ̴u̸n̵d̶e̵r̷s̸t̶a̴n̶d̸.̸ ̴B̷u̴t̵ ̴i̵t̷ ̸i̵s̷ ̸s̸o̵m̸e̸t̷h̶i̸n̷g̶ ̷o̷u̸r̵ ̷s̴p̸e̷c̷i̵e̵s̸ ̷n̸e̸e̶d̵s̸.̵ ̸S̵u̶r̸e̷l̸y̶ ̴y̷o̷u̴ ̸m̶u̷s̴t̷ ̴h̴a̸v̸e̷ ̷w̴i̴t̸n̴e̸s̴s̵e̶d̸ ̶t̴h̷e̴ ̴e̴f̴f̶e̷c̴t̴s̶ ̶o̴f̴ ̶s̵t̶a̶r̴v̷a̸t̶i̶o̶n̴ ̵o̴n̸ ̸y̵o̷u̶r̷ ̶f̵r̵a̶i̷d̸m̶a̷t̶e̸?̵”

  Moments flash through Dick’s head. Jason breathes as he struggles against the pit so hard that Dick starts to worry his brother will pop a lung. Jason looked at the remains of another destroyed glass in dismay, before practically sprinting to hole himself up somewhere Dick couldn’t find him. Jason sobs into his shirt, begging him to make it stop, to take the pain away as Dick watches on helplessly.

   “I̷t̵ ̷w̸i̷l̵l̶ ̵o̷n̶l̵y̷ ̷g̷e̵t̵ ̷w̴o̸r̴s̸e̶ ̶i̷f̷ ̶h̴e̷ ̷d̵o̶e̶s̴n̸'̶t̷ ̸e̵a̶t̴.̵ ̶E̴v̶e̵n̵t̸u̴a̴l̸l̵y̸,̸ ̵t̴h̴e̵ ̵s̶t̶a̶r̴v̷a̵t̶i̸o̵n̵ ̸w̴i̷l̵l̵ ̶b̴e̶ ̶s̶o̷ ̸b̷a̶d̸ ̷h̷i̸s̵ ̴c̷o̴r̵e̵ ̷w̷i̸l̷l̴ ̷s̷e̵l̸f̵-̷c̴a̷n̴n̷i̵b̷a̶l̵i̵z̴e̷.̵”

   “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

   “I̶ ̷a̵m̵ ̷K̶i̶n̷g̷ ̷P̶h̵a̴n̸t̵o̶m̵ ̵o̸f̷ ̵t̶h̴e̸ ̶I̴n̶f̶i̵n̷i̶t̸e̶ ̶R̷e̶a̸l̴m̷s̴,̷ ̶t̴h̷e̶ ̵A̸n̶c̵i̶e̵n̶t̵ ̵o̵f̵ ̵S̸p̸a̶c̸e̸,̶ ̶P̷r̸o̶t̶e̴c̵t̸o̷r̷ ̴o̶f̷ ̶t̷h̸e̸ ̵L̷i̸v̵i̷n̸g̸ ̸a̵n̷d̴ ̸D̷e̸a̴d̴,̷ ̷t̵h̷e̴ ̶O̸n̸e̴ ̸W̶h̶o̶ ̷L̷i̴e̴s̷ ̸I̴n̶ ̴B̴e̷t̸w̴e̵e̴n̵,̷ ̶t̴h̶e̷ ̴K̵i̴n̶g̵ ̸o̷f̶ ̶G̶h̷o̴s̸t̷s̵.̴” What almost looks like a smile splits across his face, “I̴f̸ ̶I̶ ̴w̵e̶r̴e̵ ̷n̵o̸t̵ ̶a̴w̷a̸r̷e̶ ̶o̶f̵ ̶m̷y̸ ̵p̶e̴o̶p̷l̴e̸'̵s̵ ̸n̷e̶e̴d̵s̵ ̷I̴ ̶w̵o̷u̸l̵d̴ ̷b̴e̶ ̴a̸ ̷v̴e̵r̵y̷ ̷p̴o̸o̷r̸ ̴k̶i̸n̷g̸ ̶i̵n̶d̷e̸e̷d̴.̸”

   Dick turns back to Jason. His brother hasn’t looked this small since before his death. He’s shaking. He looks desperate.

   Dick steps to the side.

   Jason lets out a stuttering breath but remains still otherwise, hands clenched at his sides.

   The newly dubbed King Phantom returns to the corpse, digging through fluid and meat. “I̴f̷ ̸i̴t̷ ̷i̶s̴ ̸a̸n̸y̴ ̵c̴o̵n̸s̸o̵l̶a̸t̷i̷o̵n̶,̷ ̵h̶e̵ ̷w̶i̴l̵l̵ ̸n̴o̷t̸ ̶n̷e̸e̶d̴ ̵t̶o̵ ̶e̸a̵t̴ ̴o̷f̴t̶e̸n̶.̸ ̸O̵n̴c̸e̸ ̴o̸r̴ ̸t̶w̷i̴c̸e̵ ̷e̸v̷e̸r̸y̶ ̷f̴i̶f̸t̵y̶ ̵y̸e̷a̴r̶s̶ ̸o̷r̴ ̷s̴o̵ ̷s̵h̵o̶u̶l̵d̶ ̸b̶e̸ ̸e̴n̸o̵u̸g̵h̴ ̶t̸o̶ ̸k̶e̴e̵p̶ ̴h̶i̶m̷ ̶r̸e̴l̶a̷t̷i̸v̶e̷l̶y̸ ̵h̶e̵a̸l̶t̸h̶y̴.̶“ He pulls out the Joker's liver with bloody claws. "C̷o̴m̷e̵ ̶h̵e̸r̸e̷,̵ ̷g̸h̵o̴s̷t̷l̵i̸n̴g̸," he purrs, offering it to Jason as if it were an apple instead of a human organ, "I̴ ̴k̴n̶o̷w̸ ̷y̸o̴u̵'̶r̵e̷ ̴h̶u̶n̷g̶r̸y̷.̶ ̵T̴h̵e̸ ̷e̶c̴t̴o̵p̷l̶a̶s̷m̷ ̸i̴n̴ ̶h̷e̷r̴e̵ ̵w̵i̵l̵l̴ ̵h̵e̴l̶p̵ ̵b̵o̵o̸s̶t̵ ̸y̶o̵u̵r̵ ̷o̸w̷n̸ ̶e̶c̷t̴o̴ ̸p̶r̶o̷d̴u̷c̴t̴i̶o̴n̵.̵"

   Jason reaches for it, eyes flicking uncertainly between the liver and the creature’s eyes. Despite everything, Dick almost hopes that he will suddenly come to his senses, slap the hand away, and leap backward gagging in disgust.

  Instead, he wraps a couple of fingers around one of King Phantom’s. His tank of a brother looks minuscule in comparison. Jason stares up at the being with wide eyes, like a child presented with cotton candy.

   “Are you sure I can have it?”

   King Phantom’s chest lets out another deep rumbling purr. “T̶h̷e̴ ̶l̴o̷s̵s̵ ̴i̸s̴ ̵n̸o̴t̶ ̷a̷ ̷g̵r̷e̶a̵t̸ ̴o̷n̷e̴ ̵f̴o̶r̴ ̸m̴e̸.̴ ̵I̵ ̵a̶m̸ ̷p̷o̸w̵e̷r̶f̸u̸l̸ ̵e̶n̸o̶u̷g̷h̵ ̷t̵o̴ ̶s̷u̷r̸v̴i̸v̸e̸ ̵o̷f̵f̶ ̷a̷m̴b̷i̶e̸n̵t̸ ̸e̸c̷t̵o̷p̷l̵a̵s̶m̸ ̸a̶n̸d̴ ̴e̸m̸o̶t̷i̵o̴n̸s̶ ̴l̴o̷n̷g̶e̸r̸ ̴t̸h̸a̵n̸ ̴o̶t̴h̵e̸r̸s̷.̷ ̸B̶e̵s̶i̸d̸e̸s̴,̶ ̴t̵h̵e̶r̴e̷ ̸w̴i̴l̷l̷ ̴a̷l̴w̴a̵y̷s̷ ̵b̸e̴ ̸a̵n̶o̷t̸h̴e̷r̴ ̸c̶r̶i̶m̷i̴n̶a̵l̵ ̸t̴o̸ ̷h̶u̸n̵t̵.̵”

   Jason snatches the liver with burning green eyes. The organ wobbles in his hands. To Dick’s dismay, Jason takes a large eager bite. His expression can only be described as blissed relief like he had just tasted ambrosia. He goes in for another, larger bite before he has even swallowed the first, jaw unhinging like a snake. 

   Dick is never eating Jello again. 

   He watches with detachment as Jason takes a third bite of the liver. His brother’s mouth is painted in red and green like a facsimile of King Phantom’s. For the first time, Jason’s chest stutteringly hums in relieved glee. King Phantom purrs in return as he tucks his face back into the corpse, like some sort of horrific feedback loop. 

   Dick tries to focus on something else, anything else, but the iron stench of blood and burning flesh is inescapable. He tries to avert his eyes away from the gorey pile of what used to be the Joker as his brother and the creature tear into it. The stars that makeup King Phantom’s tail stare at him. They blink. A sharp pain shoots behind his eyes as he shuts them tightly. 

   It feels like he loses time.

   When he opens them again, his brother is gnawing flesh off a rib. The entire front of his body is caked in red and green. King Phantom is staring at him with piercing green eyes. Intestines dangle from between its jaws. Its tongue maneuvers them further into its mouth like they are spaghetti noodles. 

   The bile rises in his throat again. Dick retches against the wall. He wipes the acid from his mouth and leans his forehead against the brick. The coolness of the stone eases the pain zinging between his eyes. He can still hear the squelching of meat and snapping of bone behind him. 

  A noise of concern sounds from his brother.

   Dick turns back in the direction of the horror show, keeping his eyes squeezed tight.

   King Phantom hums in thought. “P̴e̷r̷h̷a̶p̶s̶ ̴i̷t̸ ̵w̶i̷l̴l̷ ̸b̵e̵ ̸e̶a̵s̵i̵e̴r̸ ̶i̷f̴ ̸y̴o̵u̸ ̷w̵a̵i̴t̸ ̶o̷u̸t̵s̶i̵d̵e̷.̸”

    “Y-yeah.” Dick nods, voice cracking. “I think I’ll just… do that.”

   Jason makes a noise of acknowledgment. 

   Another bone snaps.

   Dick quickly makes his way back the way they had come. He stops briefly to vomit again, though there is nothing left in his stomach to throw up. When he emerges from the tunnel entrance he gasps on fresh Gotham air. He wraps his arms tight around himself with shaking fingers as he tries to steady his breathing. With the absence of the creature the pain in his head steadily fades away, though the images of bloody organs and sounds of desperate screaming remain persistent. 

   He’s not sure how long he waits outside, but it's long enough that he begins to worry something happened to Jason. He begins to wonder if the creature pinned him down like it had the Joker, restaining him with his neck between its fangs. What would Dick even do? How could he save his brother from that… thing?

   Jason remerges before he can figure it out. He’s clean of any visible blood or lazarus water, but the acrid tang of death and gore follows him. 

   Jason pleadingly stares at him through the eyes of his helmet. 

   Dick nods.

   They don’t speak of it again.

______________________

Zalgo Translations...

"Company?"

"You should be more careful, little ghostling."

"You are no match for most spirits as young as you are. Especially not on Samhain."

"No need to fear, ghostling. I do not wish you nor your fraid harm."

"You are very lucky it was me who you came across rather than some other spirit. Many would have eaten you by now."

"Oh little ghost, you are much younger than I had thought! Your core is new and undernourished. No wonder I had not sensed you before! Have you been eating?"

"You need to take better care of yourself, little ghost. I've never seen such an undernourished core. You must be able to feel the effects. Are you in pain?"

"Come here, ghostling. I will share my catch. I can sense the connection this revenant has to you. As your killer, feasting on him will have extra benefits."

"I understand your apprehension."

"As a living it feels wrong, sickening even. It took me a long time to come to terms with it. I understand. But it is something our species needs. Surely you must have witnessed the effects of starvation on your fraidmate?"

"It will only get worse if he doesn't eat. Eventually, the starvation will be so bad his core will self-cannibalize."

"I am King Phantom of the Infinite Realms, the Ancient of Space, Protector of the Living and Dead, the One Who Lies In Between, the King of Ghosts."

"If I were not aware of my people's needs I would be a very poor king indeed."

"If it is any consolation, he will not need to eat often. Once or twice every fifty years or so should be enough to keep him relatively healthy. "

"Come here, ghostling,"

"I know you're hungry. The ectoplasm in here will help boost your own ecto production."

"The loss is not a great one for me. I am powerful enough to survive off ambient ectoplasm and emotions longer than others. Besides, there will always be another criminal to hunt."

"Perhaps it will be easier if you wait outside."

[phantom-z0ne]

"Billy wasn't sure what the creature ransacking his train car was.” Alternatively, Billy feeds a stray and ends up with a roommate.

WC: 1215

Serendipity (n): the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.

Billy wasn't sure what the creature ransacking his train car was. Granted, the train car wasn't in the most hidden place ever, but he had made sure to ward it against most creatures. The ward would have made one unable to see the train, and if they somehow saw it anyways, they would have been turned around. He usually was pinged if anything passed his wards, which was why he was so blindsided to see something moving around in his train car. It seemed that this one had slipped through his protections. 

The creature was strange and almost hard to look at directly. Its blinding white hair moved independent from the wind and twined around its long, pointed, mint colored ears. It was also small, small enough that Billy thought it could comfortably fit into his cupped hands, and wearing some sort of skin tight suit, black with a stripe of silver along its torso. Or what appeared to be its torso, Billy couldn't really tell when its lower body faded into a long tail.

From his perspective, it seemed to be rummaging through where he usually hides his food, showing slivers of its white paws. Did it pass through the barriers he set because it was hungry? 

Billy approached the creature quietly, making sure not to get too close, he wouldn't want to startle it. His efforts were in vain though as the creature snapped its head towards him. It's glowing eyes like headlights, as if staring into Billy’s soul. The green in its eyes swirling hypnotically as the creature bristled at his presence. 

Billy watched, amused but vigilant, as the creature puffed up like a cat. Even going so far as to swat a couple times in his direction. So far, it was quite harmless, but the buzzing in the back of his head that he usually equated to Solomon told him to be careful.

Billy slowly dropped to his knees, mindful of the creature's reaction, and shifted his bag to his front. He shuffled through his bag and brought out the small piece of jerky he was saving for later, sliding it slowly towards the creature.

The creature tilted its head, staring at the jerky suspiciously before taking a few steps to paw at it. It apparently passed its test as it devoured the jerky surprisingly fast for its small size. While it seemed to be starving, thankfully it didn't reflect onto its body. It wasn't gaunt or thin, but actually quite plump. Perhaps it just didn't eat for a day or two? 

Billy took a small step forward, then a few more when he realized the creature was focused on eating. “So,” He began softly, the creature startling as if it was just realizing he was so close. “What are you doing here, little guy?”

It stared at him silently before once again tilting its head. It was cute, Billy realized. The chubby cheeks and button nose paired with big, shiny eyes made it endearing to look at. His expression melted slightly as he took a closer look at the creature.

The creature's ear flicked as it padded up to him, paws on Billy’s knees. It let out an unintelligible sound, layered and harsh to Billy's ear, yet somehow melodious. Billy blinked, not expecting that noise. The creature looked at him almost expectantly, eyes shining brightly.

Billy hesitantly brought his knuckles closer to the creature, feeling its cold nose as it sniffed him. It was clearly unimpressed and trilled for more food. Billy chuckled under his breath as he brought another piece of jerky to the needy creature. It gobbled it up swiftly, looking up at him and once again begging for more, its eyes almost sparkling.

Billy folded under the cuteness overload and retrieved a sandwich from his bag, splitting it in half. He was worried that it would eat more than it could handle if he kept feeding it. He knew very well what that felt like.

The creature blinked at him, once, twice, before giving him a small, pleasant trill and headbutted his fingers. Billy cautiously set his hand over its silky hair? Fur? All he knew was that it felt divine, though not in the godly way. 

“What are you?” Billy asked as he wove his fingers through its hair, genuinely curious on what species the creature was. He had inputted a lot of creatures in his ward but he had no clue what this one was. The tingling at the back of his head spoke otherwise, Solomon knowing very well what it was. He could transform and ask Solomon, since he couldn't really speak to him unless he was Captain Marvel, but that would just scare the creature.

It gave him a look before resuming its lunch, finishing it in record time. Apparently, it deigned him worthy of its presence on his lap as it kneaded his legs then curled up onto them. The purring surprised him, pausing when the creature gave him an impatient look when he halted his ministrations on its hair.

He resumed, of course. Why wouldn't he? It was a nice reprieve from fighting villains as Captain Marvel and watching out for himself when he was on the streets. It was just a quiet moment between him and the strange creature that broke into his home. 

…He hadn't realized how lonely he was before this. 

He had friends, of course. Freddy, Tawky Tawny, and the Justice League. But… this just wasn't the same. As good as a friend Freddy was, he doubted that he would be willing to just sit and enjoy each other's company silently. Freddy was a huge superhero fan and couldn't help but talk about them in excitement. Not to mention his analyses on Billy’s techniques as Captain Marvel.

The Justice League wasn't any better. They had a professional relationship, thinking of him more as a coworker than a friend. The times he tried to deepen their friendship by inviting them out, he was unfortunately turned down. It seemed that they got along better when they were in battle than not.

Billy usually went to Tawky Tawny for advice, but Tawky Tawny never turned down the opportunity to just spend time in the other’s company. Unfortunately, those times were far and few between, usually because Tawky Tawny was traveling or busy with something else. 

With this creature— he’d have to name it eventually, Billy thought absently—all that was expected of him was companionship, nothing more.

Billy felt a cool paw pat his face, the creature looking up at him concerned. His eyes widened before he let out a huff, ruffling its hair. The creature let out a disgruntled chuff and phased through his hands then batted at them, settling down once more on his lap once it was done. 

It hadn't been with him long, all he had done was give it some food, and it was already trying to comfort him. Admittedly, it wasn't the best comfort, it stopped once he focused on it, but it wasn't something he expected from a creature he met not an hour ago.

Billy smiled, eyes soft. Perhaps it could stay, if only for a while.

Whipped this up in a couple hours while trying to get out of my funk 

Thanks for reading!!

Ao3

[viglantecandy18]

So I had gotten bored and well my current hyperfixation is DCxDP crossovers and currently in my fanfic Jason had semi adopted Danny while Danny had run away from the Fentons cause the pit had basically screamed at him that Danny was a baby ghost and he needed to be taken care of, so he just kinda picked up Danny by the scruff and said"Your my kid now ig" so now they just have a rather odd dynamic that's a mix between parent child and older ☬ sibling and younger sibling and well Jason noticed something about him.

Jason is worried about this child that feels safer with a murder than their own family. So now Jason has had Danny living with him for over 3 months and he's noticed Danny spends most of his time sleeping so now he's like "Is the child okay? He sleeping a little much"

And Danny is just like "Dude in two years I have only gotten 243 days of sleep instead of the 486 days I was supposed to, I'm just catching up on sleep"

Jason is a stressed parent/sibling now, he will never give shit to Dick about his inability to not leave his siblings alone ever again. Danny is just a tired ghost king who just wants to sleep curled up on Jason while both of them are covered in a weighted blanket while Jason reads. Danny has effectively become a tamed stray cat and Jason isn't sure if he's happy or nervous.

Jason hasn't left Danny side after Danny patched him up after he got shot 5 times. Danny taught Jason how to purr properly inorder to boost healing.

[ratatatastic]

scare the hoes more and keep yapping about ekky (& others) getting used to maffhew, it delights me. and say even more about how sasha handles this feral and sweet omega that gets dropped into his orbit. smth smth “feels like i’ve known him 10 years” or whatever vows sasha recited to the press, cameras, and god

apparently we are taking more tumblr user ratatatastic abo yap thoughts for 500 may god hear our screams up wherever he is. big man in the sky you fuckin owe me one.

i think theres so much in particular to say in concerns of 1619 and how quickly they gelled irl but even more so in an abo au

ive always enjoyed when people assign matthew stronger scents that take getting used to if you don't like it already and i know ive read a fic where his scent notes did skew towards stronger cinnamon foods/drinks

anyways on that note it wouldnt surprise me that sasha takes so easy to this spicy little omega.

Like of course he does, he smells like the pastries he used to eat back at home, the pastries he eats now because he's found an established Finnish bakery down here that makes them homemade every morning, the bakery he likes to frequent with the other Finns when he can.

Is it ever a wonder that the cute omega that sent him such a terribly sweet text when the trade news broke out (you know, after the initial excitement worn off because Sasha does chuckle at memory of the brash "Fucking, right!" that pinged on his phone the very first time from an unknown number) smells like... home... No matter all the rumours that have swirled around Matthew, the rumours Sasha has personally experienced himself playing against him...he smells nostalgic. Like Sasha could be at home right now—you know, home home—lounging outside his cottage with tea and pastries on the little table that he's set out. The warm cinnamon that wafts from the typically sterile room they've assigned for pressers smells divine, for lack of a better word. It smells indulgent. Because Sasha can't have those homely pastries all the time, what, with his training regiment.

It's why he doesn't quite believe it that Matthew's the one that's the centre of it all. He's absolutely convinced he's hallucinating because the season is about to start and he's had to cut back on all his favourite sweets as much as it pains him to but for the betterment of the team? He'd do anything. And yet despite the way he rubs at his nose to at least try to clear it, he smells that cinnamon. That cinnamon that's definitely coming from new omega they traded over who's laughing so obnoxiously at the lectern they have set up that if his scent didn't catch your attention, his loud mannerisms certainly did. His voice is practically bouncing off the walls in big loud echoes that should hurt Sasha’s ears. Emphasis on should. As it is he finds his heart melting more than it should instead.

It's been quite a long time since someone's scent has moved him this much. All the people that have, have been in his life for so long he's forgotten what it's like to feel instant scent compatibility. His nostrils are flaring and he's trying his best not to open his mouth to huff in big gulps of it because it's rather impolite to be so obviously scenting the new guy. It could be misconstrued as Sasha taking offence to the new presence in the room.

Some part of his brain is still trying to catch up to the idea that Matthew even smells at all because the first time he met him (down here for some joint offseason ice-time) he didn't particularly smell like much, if at all really. Whether it's because he put on blockers to not intrude on pack territory until he smelled more like them, or he was still on suppressants even in the summer, Sasha wasn't sure and he definitely wasn't going to ask about it.

Known him for 10 years? He feels like he's known him his whole life. But 10's a safe number, 10's a number that won't scare off this new omega, right? 10's a number that conveys "As Captain I want this to work out, I'm opening up my pack for you, I won't shun you, you're welcome here," and not "If I stick my nose in your neck right now to scent you, they're gonna have to forcibly evict me from the new home I've found in you, and it's not gonna be a pretty outcome."

It's also why he's a little nervous when Media Day is over because despite how much it dragged along in years past it practically blitzed by and now Sasha has to—

You know, properly scent the new addition. Give them the purring acceptance of their Pack leader's scent to carry with them. And it's nothing big, it's just some chaste wrist rubbing... something subtle and not too overwhelming for everyone: the pack, and the newcomer alike. It's not like Sasha is going to mouth at Matthew's neck glands. He doesn't think he can even handle that right now but that's a problem for future Sasha—for when Matthew is really part of the pack and not like a goldfish in a plastic bag being dunked into an aquarium to get used to the water temperature. He just has to rub his wrist against his, it's like basic Alpha etiquette. It'll be fine, mostly. He hopes.

And it's as anticlimactic as he thought it'd be: gentle reintroductions and reignited chatter of excitement about the new season that's about to start... maybe just with the new lingering scent of sweet and spice in the background as if someone lit up a candle without Sasha even noticing it. It's a struggle to keep his eyes from closing from how heavy they feel, from how relaxed he feels in the presence of this new omega he knows has pissed him off on several occasions as composed as he was about it.

Matthew presents his wrist in a flourish successfully managing to divert his attention back to what they're supposed to be doing all alone like this in the dressing room like this, "I'm sure you've been dying to do this huh, Cap?"

Sweat starts to break out at the back of his neck. He knows? Sasha doesn't think he's been sending off any signals that could've hinted otherwise but Sasha admits that he's well out of practise, he hasn't had to reign in his scent this much in such a long time, and maybe Matthew picked up his weird fixation—

Matthew waggles his eyebrows for extra effect an offbeat later when the joke doesn't seem to land the way he wanted it to.

Oh, thank Christ, he's just teasing him. It's a joke. He doesn't actually mean it in the way Sasha thought he meant.

"Yes. Yes, I have," Sasha chuckles in relief, shaking his head at Matthew's attempt to lighten the mood.

"10 years, or so I've heard, bud."

"You heard? Uh, listened to the..." he trails off.

"Kinda hard not to when the setup made it sound like you were in the middle of the Earth, my guy. I don't think my ears are ever gonna recover from that."

"It's the first day for everyone," Sasha lightly chastises, not particularly aggrieved at all but wanting to keep up the banter to stall for time, so he can prepare himself. Quite honestly he feels like travelled back in time to the young anxious Alpha he was breaking out into the league for the first time.

"Be gentle, I bruise easily."

"Right, gentle. I'll treat you better than my clothes on the delicate cycle."

"Is that supposed to be a line?" Matthew says in glee, his voice pitching into incredulity.

"Line like fishing?"

"Oh, come on! You know what I'm talking about! You've been in this country long enough to pick up on that!"

"Yes, yes, that."

Matthew shoves at his shoulder playfully. "Just go on and do the thing already."

"Doing the thing."

Matthew snorts but his wrist is limp in Sasha’s hold. And as much as it was a dumb joke he does feel delicate between his fingers like that. So delicate that when he rubs his own wrist against his—to transfer over their pack scent—he feels like he's going to break it if he holds onto it for too long. It's why he drops it as quick as he took it, hands scrambling to his sides in an effort to remain polite but also to get a handle on himself so his pheromones don't go haywire with the new stimulus. It's a bit of a losing battle because he knows his scent just. But he can play it off as the excitement of an Alpha being able to claim another member to his pack, it's a possessive kind of thing.

"Well, see you around! Call it a hunch but I have a feeling we'll be seeing more of each other." And the joke wasn't funny the first time, truly the equivalent of leaning on the office fax machine and going "You come here often?" to your coworkers who just want to get their work done—and just as sleazy too with the greasy grin Matthew has permanently stuck to his face but Sasha still laughs like he did the first time he heard it.

And it's only now that Matthew is gone that Sasha realises the room smells strongly of cinnamon, so potent that anyone with a working nose would be able to tell that. Like Matthew was doing his best to ease Sasha’s obvious nerves when Sasha should've been the one to calm the omega who's been uprooted from their own pack and thrown into a completely new environment, himself.

"Jesus, it reeks in here. Smells like cinnamon," Aaron wrinkles his nose, wandering back in after his own media duties were done, finding Sasha all alone in the locker rooms.

"It does?" Like he can't tell the room smells like the equivalent of someone knocking over a Yankee Candle into an open fire.

"Yeah, like an awful lot." Aaron scrunching up his nose, trying to fight off an incoming sneeze. "It's strong," he says without thinking, swallows before his eyes shift over to Sasha and then to the floor, "Not bad just... strong..." The I can get used to it is left unspoken between them.

"I like it," Sasha admits because if Aaron is confessing to things without thinking then he might as well too. They've known each other long enough.

"I can tell." Aaron snorts, "You reek too."

Sasha lets out a questioning little noise, tilts his head to the side as he silently urges Aaron to continue.

"You have no idea what cinnamon and cardamom smell like together, do you? I feel like I walked into a bakery when I should be at the gym right now."

"Is that bad?"

"For you? No, of course not," Aaron's eyes soften, and while his scent wasn't anywhere close to abrasive, it does lighten up just a tad bit in the presence of his pack Alpha. "For me? I'd rather dunk my head in a bucket of coffee beans." A bit of an exaggeration on Aaron's part but the wry grin he has on really adds to the fact he's just joking—just a little, maybe there's some truth hidden in there. He knows how Aaron is, the way he tries to downplay anytime he bristles about something. Peace and vibes, and all that.

So Sasha can joke as well, "Forsy's stall is over there," and motions his head towards it across the room.

"Oh, hilarious."

"If I was funny I would say jock."

"You know, what? I think I will hit the gym today, thanks for reminding me."

"Mmm, anytime." And when Aaron's half out the door he adds, "Ask the staff where they put the jerseys we used today!"

"I'm going! To the gym!" he echoes back, not bothering to turn around as he shuffles down the hall in a hurry, and decidedly not going in the direction of the gym. It's not surprising when he hears chatter pick up and shoes scuffing briskly into the direction of the laundry rooms.

[pepprs]

my depression is getting really really bad. like it’s been bad before but this is like… consistently really bad. like a long unending stretch for several weeks (and tbh months) now. to the point where no inoculation actually sticks (and im isolating myself from most of my inoculations anyway and feel unable to stop doing it even though i know it’s self destructive). im either helplessly unbearably miserable or numbing out on video games. i just don’t feel like it’s going to get better for me and i KNOW that is factually untrue but the feeling is louder than the knowledge and it’s just utterly immobilizing. ive been sinking in quicksand for 2 years.

[trollbreak]

< guy who thinks so much abt how my guys purr

[ghostsanctity]

Simon had always known he was possessive, but this… this was something new. It all started during a rambling, half-drunk conversation with Soap, the kind they’d both forget by morning—except for one comment that had lodged itself in Simon’s mind like a splinter.

“Lass can’t forget you if she’s knocked up with your baby,” Soap had muttered with a lopsided grin, slurring just enough to make Simon dismiss it at first.

At first.

Simon knew you’d never forget him, no matter how long he was deployed. He trusted you, loved you in ways he couldn’t always put into words. But once the thought was planted, he couldn’t forget it. Maybe deep down it was the fear you’d leave or just the desire to know that you were fully his, round with his child, but whatever it was, when he got notified of an upcoming assignment, he knew he was gonna damn well try.

Which is how you ended up here now, pressed into the mattress beneath him, his broad chest blanketing your back as his lips dragged heatedly along your neck. He reaches around, pulling your body up enough for you to stabilise yourself as he roughly palms your breasts, tweaking your nipples between his fingers as he continues to rut against you.

He's been at it for hours, fucking you with a relentless intensity, determined to fill you with every drop of his cum before he leaves. You’ve lost count at this point, never knowing he could go for so many repeated rounds but you certainly know it now as you feel his cum run down your thighs, the squelching noise every time he fucks back into you, a combination of your arousal and how many loads he’s given you so far tonight.

"Fuuck-" he groans, his voice low and gravelly with desire. "Gonna knock you up so good. Gonna make sure you're round with my baby by the time I get back."

He pulls out, his cock sliding from your well-fucked hole 

He stares down at your pussy, mesmerised by the sight of it dripping with his cum. He leans down, his face mere inches from it as his heated breath ghosts your folds. He watches, transfixed, as another thick spurt of his previous load oozes out of you.

"Fucking hell," he mutters, his breath hot against your skin. "Look at that. Look at what you do to me."

He reaches out, his fingers gently parting your swollen lips to get a better look. He teases your entrance, circling it slowly before scooping up some of the cum that's leaking out and guiding it back in with his middle and ring finger.

He pushes his fingers deeper, scissoring them to work his own cum back inside you. He wants to make sure every last drop takes.

"Gonna plug you up-" he growls, his voice rough with lust. "Keep you nice and full of me.”

He withdraws them, glistening with the thick, pearly fluid before bringing them up to your mouth, pressing his fingers against your lips.

"Go on-" he purrs as he slowly pushes his fingers into your mouth, letting you suck them clean. You can taste the saltiness of his cum mixed with the musky scent of your arousal. It's a heady combination that makes your head spin.

"Good girl," he praises, his voice rough with approval. "Such a good girl for me."

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, only to bring them back down to your pussy. He circles your clit with them, the slickness of his cum providing the perfect lubrication before he gestures for you to roll onto your back.

He straightens back up as he slides the head of his aching cock through your folds, nudging the head of his cock against your entrance, teasing you with shallow thrusts that do nothing to satisfy the ache inside you.

"Y’not going anywhere," he murmurs, his voice low and rough with emotion. "Not after this- fuck -you’re not leaving me…You can’t–”

You could hear the subtle desperation in his words, a fear that you'd abandon him. He needed to know that you would be here, waiting for him, even when he was deployed.

He kisses desperately, trying to put every fiber of his being into this kiss, hoping to portray even a fraction of the strong love he felt for you. His hips start to move again, his cock sliding into you with a groan. He sets a slow, deep pace, each thrust deliberate and purposeful as he works himself in and out of you.

"Fuck, I love you," he grunts, the words torn from him. "Love you so fucking much…You're my everything, I swear I’ll never let you down-"

He wraps his arms around you, holding you as close as possible, fingers digging into your flesh as he impales you on his thick cock over and over again.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groans, his forehead pressed against yours. "So fucking tight and wet for me. Always so ready for my cock, god you’re perfect-."

He adjusts his hips, changing the angle of his thrusts so that he's hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars. Your back arches off the bed as your nails rake down his back and you moan wantonly.

"That's it, baby," he coaxes, his voice husky with desire. "Gonna' fill you up so good. Gotta make sure it takes before I leave-

His hips piston faster, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust. He's getting close, you can tell by the way his muscles tense, the way his breath comes in short, sharp gasps.

"Gonna cum," he grunts, his thrusts becoming erratic. "Shit- fuck-”

He buries himself to the hilt, incoherent mutterings rolling off his tongue as his cock pulses, filling you with another thick load. He bites down on your shoulder to muffle his groans as you feel it, hot and heavy, painting your insides white. He collapses on top of you, all his weight heavy upon you, though you don't mind at all, arms wrapping tightly about him.

He stays buried inside of you, his now softening cock still buried deep within you. He rests his forehead against yours as his breath comes in short pants, trying to catch his breath.

"I meant what I said, you know…gonna' make you mine in every way possible," he murmurs, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as he lifts some of his weight off of you. "Want you to have my baby- And when I come back, I'm gonna marry you because I’m completely yours and I want you to be fully mine, officially."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

reblogsノcomments are greatly appreciated <3

© ghostsanctity → do not copy or translate any of my works

[the-stove-is-on-fire]

After School Ghost Theory 101 with Professor Fenton

Switch to light mode or Classic Blue to get the full transparency effect!

[Image ID: A four page comic that starts with Danny Fenton standing in front of a whiteboard holding up a white cat. "Question: Do ghosts purr?” 

Tucker: “Danny when was the last time you slept?” Danny: “Irrelevant.” 

Danny info-dumps: “The answer is yes, but also no. Technically, all beings that possess a core are constantly "purring", a.k.a. Core Vibrations. Core Vibrations are a nonverbal, emotion-based communication system between Ghosts, similar to how some living species use pheromones to communicate. The exact tone of each ghost is different the same way people's voices are different. Humans can only hear these vibrations when the frequency passes through their audible range (20Hz - 20KHz), hence the 'purring' sound. When the range dips into infrasound (16 - 20Hz) it can cause feelings of fear and unease in humans that they often associate with ghosts and the supernatural. Also known as the ‘Heebie Jeebies.’”

Danny, wiping off the whiteboard: “Any questions before we move on?"

Danny’s audience consists of Wes Weston, Tucker Foley, Sam Manson, Danny’s clone Ellie, and Dash Baxter in a classroom. Wes is seated at a desk at the front taking notes. Tucker is sitting on Sam’s lap playing on a Switch, Ellie is sitting on a desk behind them. Dash is asleep at the back of the room.

Ellie, now holding the cat: “Is this Vlad’s first cat!?” Wes: "Could you tone down the floating eyes before the next part? They're kinda distracting." Danny: "What eyes?" Wes: “Please stop gaslighting me.”

A transparency trick on the last page reveals dark shadows and eyes all around Danny when viewed in dark mode. /.End ID]

An Extended Image ID is available under the read more because it’s over 1k. Side by side light and dark mode versions of the transparency trick is also available under the cut.

[Extended Image ID: The post contains a four page comic. The first page shows two comic panels with white borders. The top panel features a bedraggled looking Danny Fenton from the waist up holding a disgruntled fluffy white cat. There are bags under his eyes, his hair is messy, his arms are covered in bandaids and cat scratches, and his nails are painted black. He’s wearing a white shirt with red sleeves and a red oval on the front. In a large green text bubble he says “Question: Do ghosts purr?” A small orange text bubble under it asks “Danny when was the last time you slept?” “Irrelevant” Danny replies. 

In the bottom panel Danny is standing on the far left side of the panel in front of a whiteboard in a classroom with the cat under his arm. He’s wearing baggy jeans with holes in the knees and his classic white and red Converse shoes. The whiteboard behind him has partially erased doodles around the edges including some flowers, stars, and Phantom’s DP symbol. There are a few balls of paper on the floor. Partially out of frame on the wall behind Danny is a poster of  Einstein and above it a clock. Pointing at the whiteboard with a marker Danny says “The answer: Yes but also no” His words are written on the whiteboard. Under the words is a drawing of a stick figure and a green bedsheet ghost with a circle between them. The circle is surrounded by green squiggly lines radiating out from it. Under the circle, an arrow is drawn pointing to it with the words ‘core vibrations’ written on the board. A green text bubble in the space under the whiteboard says “Technically, all beings that possess a core are constantly "purring", a.k.a. Core Vibrations.”

On the second page there are two blocks of text, each followed by a drawing. The page background is a pale, greenish-grey with subtle scuff marks imitating the look of a whiteboard. The first block of text at the top of the page reads “Core Vibrations are a nonverbal, emotion-based communication system between Ghosts, similar to how some living species use pheromones to communicate. The exact tone of each ghost is different the same way people's voices are different.” Under the text, imitating the look of dry erase marker, is a drawing of two simple ghosts smiling and waving to each other. They both have a small green circle drawn on their chest area with green squiggly lines radiating out from each ghost. Between the two cores, two parallel arrows are drawn, facing opposite directions. Under the arrows is the text “core to core communication.” 

Under the ghosts is a second block of text reading “Humans can only hear these vibrations when the frequency passes through their audible range (20Hz - 20KHz), hence the 'purring' sound. When the range dips into infrasound (16 - 20Hz) it can cause feelings of fear and unease in humans that they often associate with ghosts and the supernatural. Also known as the ‘Heebie Jeebies.’” Under the text a red arrow points from the words ‘heebie jeebies’ to a simple drawing of Dash Baxter holding a flashlight and looking scared. There is a cobweb with a dangling spider drawn to his right and a bunch of green blob ghosts behind him to his left. In blue text the blobs say “you forgot to update your mailing address with the IRS” and “you filed your taxes incorrectly.”

The third page once again shows two comic panels. In the top panel Danny takes up the centre. He’s stretched across the whiteboard in a dynamic pose erasing the drawing of frightened Dash with a big swipe. One hand is braced on the board as he looks over his shoulder and asks “Anyone got questions before we move on?” If the image is viewed in dark mode, there are five, messily drawn eyes of varying sizes surrounding Danny. If viewed in light mode, the eyes are absent. 

The bottom comic panel reveals Danny’s audience to be Wes Weston, Tucker Foley, Sam Manson, Danny’s clone Ellie, and Dash Baxter. In the bottom left corner, Wes sits slouched at a desk at the front of the classroom with papers and an open notebook spread out over his desk. He’s wearing a red zip up hoodie with white sleeves. His hoodie is unzipped showing a green shirt underneath that matches the colour of his eyes. At the desk beside him Tucker and Sam share a chair with their focus on Tucker’s Switch and not Danny’s presentation. Tucker is sitting in Sam’s lap with her arms around his waist and her head resting on his shoulder. Tucker is wearing a red beanie with short dreads, goldenrod yellow turtleneck sweater, green cargo pants, and white shoes. Sam is wearing a black crop top with a fishnet layer over top, purple pleated plaid skirt, artistically ripped purple leggings, and black combat boots with bright green laces. Tucker has the tips of his dread dyed green and purple. Sam has streaks of purple, green, and orange in her hair. Ellie is sitting cross legged on top of a desk two rows behind Sam and Tucker. She’s wearing a cropped hoodie with the same colours as Danny’s shirt and black track pants with white and red shoes. Her hair is tied in a high ponytail and she is holding the squirming fluffy white cat up in the air. At the very back of the classroom behind Wes’ left shoulder Dash can be seen asleep slouched over his desk. Wes has one hand resting on his desk holding a mechanical pencil the other partially raised with his hand open. In a beige text bubble with red text he replies to Danny’s question with an unimpressed look on his face “Could you tone down the floating eyes before the next part? They're kinda distracting.” Under his text bubble a small blue text bubble from Ellie asks “Is this Vlad’s first cat!?” If the image is viewed in dark mode, there are three visible floating eyes off to the side of the panel. If viewed in light mode, the eyes are absent. 

The final comic page is a single, full body shot of Danny standing in front of the blank whiteboard. He’s looking over his shoulder, slightly turned with his back mostly towards the classroom and the eraser in his hand. He has an incredulous look on his face. If the page is viewed in dark mode, the background looks dark and Danny is surrounded by dozens eyes of in all different sizes. If viewed in light mode, the eyes are absent. In a green text bubble Danny asks “What eyes?” In the bottom left corner Wes replies “Please stop gaslighting me.” /.End ID]

[buckyalpine]

18+ Minors dni. Buckys innocent neighbor who bakes him cookies and muffins just cause. The girl next door who has the coziest apartment he's ever been in. Shelves filled with books along with plenty of comfy blankets decorating the couches. Bucky has his own place right across but home is with her (even if she doesn't know it yet).

She's the type of girl he's going to take his time with, asking her out on a date, just coffee and a walk in the park. Nothing more than a kiss on her cheek at the end of the night. Another date. Dinner. Another kiss to her other cheek. He wouldn't dare rush anything, especially not someone as soft and sweet as her.

He feels like such a dirty little pervert when he thinks about her afterwards when he's alone in bed, all the blood in his body rushing south, and fuck he's so hard. He tries to ignore it, he didn't want to do something so debauched by thinking of her like that, he even tries to think about his grocery list, laundry, he'd probably wash his arm later, it would probably be fine in the dishwasher-

Nothing worked.

He groans, shuffling and kicking his sweats off, hissing when his hand goes down to tug at his aching cock, relief flooding his veins at the sensation. He lets his mind wander to how adorable she'd be, the way he'd take her apart in the most gentle way. Lay her against the pillows while he holds those soft thighs apart, giving her the most feather light suckles on that perfect clit, basking in all the sounds she'd make. He strokes himself faster thinking about the way he'd get her ready to take all of him. How he'd make it so good for her-shit he was going to blow-maybe if he was lucky, one day she'd let him put his cock in her mou-

"Fuck!!" Bucky threw his head back, spurts of cum shooting from his sensitive head, his post orgasm haze leaving him feeling like a filthy old man. She were here making him baked treats and he was jerking his dick off like a sick fuck.

Then the night finally comes. Bucky is ready to cuddle and nothing else but he's thrown off because never in his wildest fantasies did he expect this.

She is the girl who sends him reeling the first time he takes her clothes off one by one revealing dark ink on her back and hips. He has to suppress a growl, his eyes growing wide at the scantily clad lace that covers her body.

"Like what you see, Sergeant?" she practically purrs in his ear while he lets his han ghost over her bare skin, his chest heaving when his eyes fall to her perfect breasts, hints of silver peeking from under her lingerie, there was no way-

"Can I?" He asks breathlessly, his hand reaching behind to unclasp the bra, those pretty pierced nipples begging to be sucked.

Bucky who turns into a fucking menace, his entire world flipping upside down when she grinds down on his crotch not hiding exactly what she needs from him. He doesn't even have the ability to hide how feral he is, letting all his inhibitions slip.

-

"My little bunny's a slut, fuck, c'mere" He grabs you and tosses you over his shoulder, hauling you over to his bedroom like an untamed beast, tossing you onto his bed with no remorse. You're in nothing but your panties which he rips right off, your thighs squeezing together at the way he stalks over to you, his hungry eyes raking up and down your body without an ounce of shame. He tugs his sweats down to reveal his leaky cock, stroking it at the edge of his bed after tossing his shirt off.

"See this baby? Been fuckin' stroking and touching myself like a fuckin' teenager because of you-" He throws off his pants before climbing onto the bed and kneeling between your thighs, spreading them apart with his knees, "-and you've been here lookin' like God damn sin under those cute little sweaters"

He flicks his cockhead against your clit, humming at the clear beads of his arousal that drip onto your cunt.

"Fuck James, need more, pl-"

"Nuh uh, what was that you called me earlier, sweets?" He lets out a dark chuckle, the veins in his cock throbbing as he tightly holds the base, waiting to hear it again.

"Sergeant" you whine with mischief in your eyes and Bucky is a goner. He'll taste you later and most definitely feed you his cock another day but right now he wants to be nowhere else other than your pussy. He wants to watch you take every bit of him, rolling over to lay on his back while you straddle him, his length slotted against your cunt. He holds it up for you with a cocky look on his face, moaning when his tip breeches your tight pussy, your walls gripping his swollen, pink head.

"That's just the tip baby, c'mon, sit on it, wanna put all of my dick in you, that's it, good girl-shittt"

"Oh fuccckk,s'big" You moan feeling the stretch as you sink all the way down, panting and staying still while you adjust to his size.

"That's it bunny, that's it, ride me, ride your Sergeant" He grabs you by the hips, guiding you to grind down on him, making you feel his entire cock in your stomach. "You're a slut for big dick aren't you baby, acting all cute and shy when all you really wanted was the winter soldier's cock"

Bucky wasn't even sure where all the filth spewing from his mouth was even coming from but he couldn't stop.

"S'that it bunny? Say it baby, tell me how much you wanted my fat cock in you"

"Wanted it! F-cuk Sergeant, wanted your cock s-o-so bad!!"

"Fuck yes!!" His feet plant to meet your bounces, his hips thrusting up, slamming his entire length into you. "M'close, fuck bunny, gonna cum already, I can't hold it-

He doesn't have time to be embarrassed. You feel to good. He rubs your clit needing you to cum all over him so he can let go.

"Please, cum all over Sergeants cock baby, give it to me, be a good girl n'cum, c'mon, cum on my dick, yes, oh fuck yes I can feel it-milk it, shit touch my balls-"

You nearly collapse as your orgasm starts to wash over you, his sponge head hitting the most sensitive parts against your walls while he toys with your clit. His voice is muffled as you start to feel waves of pleasure consume you but you head just enough to reach behind, rubbing his heavy, so full of cum ba-

"FUUUCCCCKKK" He grabs you and wraps his arms around your body while he relentlessly thrusts up, biting down on your shoulder while he lets out the sluttiest, loudest moan with 0 remorse. It feels too good and he's sure the neighbors can hear but honestly, everyone should know how amazing it feels.

-

"I got you pretty baby" Bucky coos as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, a shiver running through you while you float in bliss. Bucky pulls the covers up, deciding to cuddle up with you for a bit before running a shower, his previous demeanor replaced with the far less debauched version of him.

Anyway, just an idea. Also, it's past my bedtime.

[screampied]

FAKIN’ IT FOR YOU ?! ☆

gojo, sukuna, nanami, toji, choso. faking an orgasm n how they react

cw. fem! reader, unprotected, faking órgasms, praise, filthy dirty talk, orgasm denial, first time squirt (choso), öral (f! receiving), nipple play, impact play, manhandling, req by anon, mdni. total wc 3.7k

★ TOJI FUSHIGURO

“what the fuck was that?”

he wouldn’t even care he was balls deep—you can’t even try to fake an orgasm with toji because he’ll immediately know. toji knows every inch of your body—he studies it like one would study for an exam, every particular nerve, he knows how to hit it until you break. yet, the moment you decide to fake your release, all hell breaks loose. you’d be on all fours as he stops his churlish hits against you, a hand of his gathers a firm amount of your hair before he tightly yokes it back. sweetly, you play coy and moan, “what was what?”

“let’s not,” toji grumbles, and he’s annoyed. you can hear the extra grit linger underneath his tone as he speaks. ravened eyebrows of his curve into a frustrated furrow before he pulls out. it was so abrupt, you whine before he gives your ass a rude spank, darting his eyes away with an eye roll. “oh, please, girl. was that a fake moan too?”

“it wasn’t f-fake,” you protest, and you’re suddenly quiet from the way he rubs his fatten swollen tip against your soddened entrance. toji could read you like a book though—you weren’t bullshitting anyone. you was so close but instead, you decided to be a bit more of a brat, kind of desperate to see toji’s reaction.

all toji does is pull out. you whine, the friction titillating against every number of nerves hidden within your body before he spanks your ass again. “faking an orgasm for me, girl bye.” and as he speaks, you could hear his sheer vexation. toji brings your hips up to him, having your face laid down against the woolly mattress before he wraps a hand around his shaft. giving it a few pumps, he starts to slap his tip against your entrance. “got some balls, girl. i’ll give ya that.”

“w- why’d you pull out?” you whimper, making a cute attempt at grinding your rear against him. toji snickers, drubbing his plump cockhead against your slit, pushing it in—only to pull it right back out. the dewy squashes your pussy makes only rings against your ears further. all you feel is pure static, you’re panting, chest heaving, everything and above.

with a secure grip against a nice chunk of your hair, toji groans. “b- because i fuckin’ cannn,” he mocks your faltering stutter, a palm of his bedaubing against your folds before spanking it silly. “ooh,” he purrs, watching your thighs shimmy upon impact. you bite your lip, trying to rut yourself further against him and he only resumes to rub his rounded fat tip between your slit. desperately, you try to swallow him whole but before you could even attempt — toji pulls it back out, slapping his hefty cock onto your pussy again and again. “got some nerve faking an orgasm with me when y’er this soaked already.”

“f-fuck,” a mewl dies out your throat as you feel him continue to smear his rotund cockhead all over your most sensitive parts. with your back hunched over, pretty thighs parted, you let off a bratty giggle. huffing out a sweet sigh, you hum, “it’s just … you’re getting a bit old, toji. didn’t wanna be mean.”

toji’s left eye twitches. as he ghosts a few fingers against your cunt — he slowly inserts two thick fingers inside of your lewd opening before pulling his digits back out. “old, huh?” and he flips you over to look straight at him. sable hairs of his run down his brows before he slyly smiles. a gasp wretches out from your throat before he shoves both of your knees up to your chest, realigning himself. with a husky grunt, he snarls. “don’t play with me. old or not i’ll still break this bed, whore.”

“d- do it then.” you almost simper but he cups a hand over your face.

“tch, such a mouth on ya. ain’t nothin’ a few orgasms won’t fix,” and you moan once he starts to finally make his way inside of you. the girth of toji thickens and dilates throughout your walls and you feel his grip tighten against your knees. as the bed starts to creak in harmony again, he darkly cackles, hot breath aerating against your neck. “oh, and just a heads up baby. when i break this bed, ‘s coming out of your pocket to replace it. ‘ppreciate it.”

★ CHOSO KAMO

“h-huh,” he’d stammer in short briskly breaths. choso doesn’t realize you fake it until he actually realizes something wasn’t right. with him being propped up between your plush thighs, he gently gnaws against your chin, panting heavily. “baby, did you just fake your orgasm?”

you only give him a sheepish grin and choso pouts, he leans in to kiss your pout, soft sweet kisses gluing against your chin before he whines. “that… wasn’t nice,” and he buries his face into his neck. choso’s only teasing—but in the case that you do fake an orgasm with him, he’s more than determined to make you cum at least ten times harder. choso would have you laying flat on your back, gradually easing himself back into your sopping accepting walls before he whines. “oh f-fuck,” he’d gasp, feeling you immediately engulf around his length. he’s throbbing into you, various veins that run down his shaft pulse inside of you. your legs immensely snake around his waist before he starts to deeply drill into you.

choso’s pace is different this time — it’s much more frantic, he’s still whimpering praises into your ear as he’s plummeting his dick within your gummy clingy walls. “mhm, just like that baby. s-so good,” you’d mewl out, his hips continuing to drive into you at a full smacking speed. it’s addictive, the way his sharp hips rotate against you—you feel your tongue hang out before he leans in to suck on it.

you’ve always tasted so sweet, choso’s moans only grow louder as he starts to tap against that same spot buried inside of your cunt. he knows your moans are for real this time because of your body language—how you cling onto him tightly with your giddy arms and legs, biting down onto his right shoulder in pure pleasure. “fuck, fuck right there baby. that’s it, that spot, pleaseee.”

choso could have came alone from your melodic words of encouragement. you’re all stupefied with your eyes crossed, warm hot bodies clashing against each other in sync. he whimpers, feeling his thighs ache near the undersides before his hefty cock reaches yet another deep spot. your legs were steadfastly wrapped around his torso, making sure he’d never leave. “come on baby, give me one, please. gimme a real one,” and he licks a long stripe up your neck. “give it to me, make a mess on m-me so i can clean you right up.”

as you’re positioned in a sprawled way, choso’s hands roam towards your neglected bouncing tits. his head lowers down to suck against them as his hips go slow. a growing pool of heat resides near your lower abdomen as his delicious inches drill in and out of you. “f-fuck, ‘cho. ‘s coming, feel w-wet.”

“let go on me, please,” he purrs, his tongue licking against your sensitive nipples. after a while, he csnt help but start to suck against your precious mounds, moaning as you cup his face to look at you. choso grinds against you, verbosely slowing himself down before you let off a real shriek. as the coarse smacks against each body pitched louder and loduer, you feel yourself zealously jolt forward before you feel a sudden sensation gush out of you. the velocity of it all was soaking — you’re panting, chest heaving as you try to recollect breaths before you feel yourself spouting out more onto your boyfriend. choso pauses, his pink dampened lips quavering as he leans in to give you a sloppy kiss on your mouth. “baby,” his eyelids lowers, and he’s puffing for air right with you. a hand of his trails down between your thighs, lifting up your legs before he moans. “did you just squirt on me…?”

feeling a drenching pool of saliva coat into your mouth, you whine out a timid, “y- yes.”

giving you a hungry gaze, his dick twitches inside of you before he pulls out to watch the remnants of your own slick spill out. “o- oh wow,” he gawks at the filthy scenery right before his eyes. in a gruff voice, choso bites his lip, leaning down to press a final delicate kiss against your pussy. “mwah,” his warm lips ghost against your now drenched folds. he can’t help but lick against it, savoring your sweetened taste before he looks up at you with a pleading look in his eyes. “do.. do you think you can squirt for me one more time? pretty please. need you s-so bad.”

★ SUKUNA RYŌMEN

the audacity was beyond him—he knows right away, sukuna was no foolish curse.

if it was anything he knew by heart, it was your body. whenever you’re about to orgasm, he likes to stare dead into your eyes whilst he’s giving you his all. slow yet deadly strokes, he likes draining the pleasure out of you with the thick inches of his cock. oh, how his favorite part was to just hear your babbling little voice sob out his name over and over like a looping vinyl on a record player. your adorable cacophonies of “right there, right there,” and “gonna cum, ‘kuna,” and many more, many of which they all never fail to reverb across the padded walls of his sacred chambers.

although, he can easily tell from how it’s real or fake. sukuna gets up close—hearing the sounds of your heavy breaths as your legs wrap around his waist. as you’re taking in every part of his bare long length, your arms sling around him. you’re a mess underneath him, jostling against his beefy built body. the demon’s pure smoldering heat colliding against yours only makes you throb at a much quicker pace. his scent, you bury your face into the crook of his neck. “i-i’m close, ‘kuna.” you’d mewl out in a desperate cry, hearing his low animalistic growls all close up against the outer shell of your ear.

he knows,

you didn’t even have to remind him, he knows your body. it was his priceless treasure. sukuna groans as you claw your fingernails into the deep depths of his back. his thickened base resumes to jackhammer into your tight sticky walls furthermore until you croak. he’s just so big, you jaw was dangling open all stupid like before it finally comes— that familiar squeal he’s grown to love. his favorite part.

as your cunt sloshes against the repetitive thwacks against it, you whine out your finish—yet he notices something quite peculiar about your concluding climax. as you lean your back, doe eyes staring into the ceiling, his pointed ears twitch at the way you elongated that single orgasmic syllable. “think you’re so funny,” he says as he waits for your seven second orgasm to come to a closing halt. crimson red eyes makes your tummy churn as you meet his stern gaze and he grips your chin. “little girl, you’re playin’ a dangerous game.”

“w- what?” you coyly mutter, an almost smile pulls against each side of your lips before he glares at you.

sukuna pulls out and you gasp, your ankle brushing against the back of his torso and he squeezes your lips together. “brat,” he snarls, his tone all rough and husky. a free hand of sukuna’s sneaks down between your pried open legs to feel against your pussy. a real moan snatches out from your throat as he rubs sloppy circles against it, only to smack it again, and again, and again. your eyes start to roll as he continues to pace. you’re so soaked that it starts to coat his hand. “look at you. can’t get off to dick but you came just from a few pussy smacks? tch.”

“m-more, ‘kuna. don’t stop pleaseee.” you pant, feeling your tummy cave in as you’re directly underneath him. his weight hovers above you as he still grips your cheeks together, giving you a hot, steamy kiss. sukuna’s forked tongue glides against yours and you whimper in his mouth before he lightly pushes you off. you ‘oof’ back onto the fat padded mattress with a pout as he gets up. with a saddened frown, you sit up to whine. “where— where are you going?”

sukuna fixes his kimono before giving you an annoyed glower. “don’t worry about that. worry about how you’re gonna make that pathetic pussy finish since i apparently can’t make you cum,” and he snickers at your little grumbles before he walks out. “change the sheets when you’re done. fuckin’ wet girl.”

★ NANAMI KENTO

“…oh,” a deep voice groans from behind you. nanami’s voice was low, his simple oh sounded offended more than anything. most of the time he doesn’t really have you on all fours, doggystyle. but today, you were being a bit of a brat. nanami doesn’t mind your little antics, but if it’s to a point where he has to remind you of your place, he will. nanami’s thick cock was plunging in and out of you before he abruptly stops, slowing down once you ‘release.’

your moan sounded a bit too dramatic than usual, you gulp as he lightly grips onto the back of your shirt.

“oh….what?” you’d moan out, and you glance at the mirror that’s propped up in front of the both of you. there—you see nanami with a look of what seems to be mere irritation. nevertheless though, it’s hot. the way his gentle fawn irises burn into you, perfectly arched brows of his lower and a scowl forms onto his lips. he was still fully clothed, just his slacks from work hanging low. out of nowhere, he gives your ass a mean spank.

nanami sighs, feeling his dick that was stuffed inside of you twitch from the inside. “let’s not ask silly questions, my love. you faked that one, didn’t you?” and despite how sweet and alluring his delivery was—you heard a faint rasp in his voice, the baritone as he speaks makes you even more wetter than you already were.

you pout, not fond of how he stopped fucking you, you wanted more—you couldn’t help but be greedy for more of him.

“i didn’t,” you lie through your teeth, arching forward in a cute teasing attempt for him to finish drilling into you. nanami doesn’t follow through though, instead—he gathers a strong yet gentle grip of your hair. as his veins coarse through him, his hefty arms bulge as he pulls you forward to stare at your pathetic needy reflection. “f-finish fucking me, ‘ken. why’d you s-stop?”

“why should i continue, sweetheart? tell me that,” and his words were nothing more but a soft purr. his interest was suddenly piqued—you’ve never faked one of your orgasms before, at least not with him. as you lie on your chest, he takes a peek at your ass before letting off another low sigh. nanami gets directly up close to you before he delicately tightens the grip around your hair a tad bit. “ah, don’t be shy now. tell me what ‘m not doing right to make this pussy feel good. i know you faked it, my love.”

your breath hitches as nanami presses his weight against you—his throbbing cock buries itself between your entrance but he’s not even in fully.

he’s just … idle, his shaft remains near you and you whine from the feeling of him not moving.

“i was just p-playing,” you whine, feeling your perky nipples rub against the satiny-made sheets. whilst you smear your glossy lips together, you grind your hips against your husband. “just wanted attention, ‘ken.”

“my wife,” he whispers, planting a hot kiss near the nape of your neck. his touch alone could make you finish. it was that easy, nanami’s fingers skim against your waist before he sucks gently against your collarbone. “there’s other ways to get my attention, you know that,” and his voice softens by a mile. he’s always gentle with you, his throbbing cock all swollen and built up of so much volumes of seed that he was preparing to give to you. “ugh, having you bent over like this ‘s drivin’ me crazy,” he abruptly admits, feeling you wriggle your ass against his cock that was stuffed between the very temples of your ass. “but,” he swallows, sneaking another kiss, this time against your earlobe. “if i give you another orgasm, ‘s it gonna be real this time?”

“y- yes, promise,” you moan, desperate for him to go back inside. nanami’s hands grab onto your hips now as he pulls them up, relishing in your little arch you’ve got going on for only his eyes to see. you’re gorgeous, he huffs out a few breaths as you take your time to whine out your little words of desire. “won’t fake it anymore, jus’ finish fucking me, please.”

nanami groans—his fingers wrapping around his fat length, giving it a few mere pumps before he prods it against your hungry swallowing slit. “atta girl. keep that arch f’me, yeah,” he sucks his teeth, raising his chin up to where his jawline makes an appearance. “now,” he whispers, deepening his voice as he spreads your legs, making your right cheek sink into the cottony pillow. “let’s try this again. let’s see if i can get a little squirt out of you, sweetheart.”

★ SATORU GOJO

once he finds out you faked your orgasm, it significantly bruises his ego—he tries to play it off with a sheepish cackle cutting out of his throat. “heh, i can fake an orgasm better than that, y’know.” he’d mutter, yet you could hear the little tremor in gojo’s tone. he was quite literally pounding into you before he makes you lie down flat against his chest. he makes you spread your legs for him, exposing your dripping pussy before he pinches your clit. you moan, feeling gojo’s bulge brush off against your ass. “kinda hurt my feelings, hmph.”

“i didn’t f-fake it—” you try to lie. with his fingers rummaging near the inside of your cunt, it had you biting back your words in regret. you lean back against his chest, legs all spread and you start to squirm before he hums against your ear.

“squirmy today aren’t we?” gojo jeers with an impish smile. he titters at the way your legs judder all because of the indecourous stimulation. each tantalizing twitch makes him wanna rub his fingers against your clit even quicker. “if you don’t wanna gimme an orgasm, i’ll just have to do it myself, angel.”

you clench onto his thigh, allowing pleasure to overtake you before his fingertips skid against that familiar spot. now— your moans were very much real, gojo’s fingers was so lengthy that he could reach you in areas his own dick probably couldn’t locate. as your eyelids feel heavy, they shut before another whine leaves your mouth. he still keeps up his pace, maneuvering all kinds of circles over your pussy in a rotation manner before your thighs start to shudder in ecstasy.

“satoru, satoruuuu,” a heavenly sounded whimper dies out your throat. you only then roughly gnaw down on your lip, a cute try at trying to suppress your little moans. “don’t think i can c-cum anymore, ‘s good fuckk.”

he chuckles, kissing the top of your head. “yes you can, i know you can baby,” he whispers, and that’s when he moves again, moving himself between your legs this time. gojo brings a chaste kiss towards your pussy, slithery strings of saliva peeling from your folds and it’s so sloppy. immediately, his lips get all moist and muggy with your honeyed slit. he creates a bowling ball grip with two lengthy fingers, shoving the two of them in and out before he blows parching hot air against your cunt. “gotta get my baby a little wetter.” he whispers, watching you pulse from the inside. within seconds, you happily coat your boyfriend's fingers with your dingy sheet arousal before he slowly vigorously continues to knead various circles and shapes against your swollen nub. you were throbbing laboriously, pulse after pulse as you panting repeats itself as if you’re running a marathon.

gojo lolls out his long wet tongue against your pretty pussy, savoring your candied taste as he feels you roughly joggle against his mouth. hot puffs of pants fans against your folds as he chuckles, and he then starts to spank your pussy raw. one spank turns into two, then three, then four . .

you didn’t want him to stop anytime soon—his guzzling greedy sucks against your clit only makes you spasm out even faster. by now, you don’t even remember why you faked your orgasm because the real one was finally about to present itself. it’s coming to you like a tsunami wave, you can’t predict it but it’s preparing to crash into you all at once. the build up has you almost drooling before you grip onto his his meaty thigh.

“s-satoru— something’s hnghhh coming. oh my goddd,” and you’re trapped in a haze, yet gojo doesn’t stop there. he’s so offended that he doesn’t just make you cream on his fingers. he makes you squirt on them too, gushing out so much the that sheets are now all soaked thanks to you. whilst your tummy heaves, your legs feel all numb and not before long, he makes you squirt again. your jaw cutely sways itself open as you lie back on the mattress, feeling the few spurts trickle out of you slowly. “f-fuck,” you whine, and your voice is all strained and tiny.

gojo hums before he starts making out with your pussy. his eyes close as if he’s actually kissing you, each smooch sounds more sloppy by the second before he pulls out his fingers, sitting up to slide them into your mouth. “taste yourself baby. now thaaaat’s how you orgasm,” and as you take his digits into your mouth with droopy eyes, your tongue swirls all around his fingertips. as you moan amply from your own taste, he wrenches out his fingers before sneaking a two second kiss on your lips. “awww, don’t tap out on me now. you can give ‘toru one more, right?”

[dmitriene]

cw: omegaverse, threesome, double penetration.

each one on the base knows you're lieutenant's simon ghost riley cherished omega, a pretty addition to his side, always snuggled close with his heavy, tattooed arm draped over you, or your body settled comfortably on his flexing forearm, muscles tensing just barely under your weight, when he decides to carry you around, as if you're just a sweet, little pet that can fit in his pocket.

no one around can touch you, neither glance at you, simon is possessive towards things and people he counts as his, and since you share a bond with each other, this unspoken rule applies to you first forward, not that you're interested to look around, your eyes always zeroed on your alpha, nestling against his muscular, puffing chest, a hoarse purr, short out of a growl, rumbles from his chest, reacting to your submissive proximity.

through, there is someone who simon trusts around you, the most trusted man, as much as it possible, being his captain, jonathan price, there is not a single thing that he could not trust to him, his life, his head, and even you, the adored omega, and when you need a help during your month heat, struggling even through being filled countless times with a knot, john is there as well.

simon stretches you out good, each time, filling your greedy, clenching cunt until the twitching, fat root of him juts against your tender, spongy spot, knot treating to pop out, plug in the countless loads of his cum that trickle out of your pulsing hole, smudging over your thighs and his balls, pressed tight against the swell of your ass, as you claw and sob that you need more, struggling so hard.

he can't deny you, cradling your head in the crook of his neck, where you try to soothe your strained hiccups with the soothing smell of his pheromones, nibbling across the curve of his throat, and it's feels like hours, agonizing, hot and sweaty against your itching skin, before your haze breaks, nose catching a whiff of another, familiar pheromones, flooding your hazed mind, your tummy, as your cunt gushes impatiently.

they both cloak you, bodies beef and huge, enough space for your tiny claws to dig in, holding, scratching in ecstasy when another thick, fat cock pumps into you, simon throbbing inside at the feeling of john's cock brushing alongside his, spreading your poor cunt so open your every little clench are visible to see, sucking them deeper, making them knot you together till your tummy bloats from their cum, body arching sweet as your trapped hips twist.

simon and john will take care of you together, your alphas, the instinct inside of you bubbles, making you purr and knock your head from side to side, trying to nuzzle in them both at once, chirping something slurred, illegible, but it's makes them growl in response, loud, uncontrollable, lips searing over your whole face, down to your throbbing gland, licking with dribbling spit.

hands calloused and grabbing, pawing, over your rocking hips, plump, sensitive breasts, thumbs sweeping over and down your engorged, swelling clit, and you won't be walking out this room anytime soon, staying cuddled between two, heavy bodies and tangled in rumpled sheets, boneless, sated, their cherished omega.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[nochepsicodelica]

NSFW

"Don't forget how badly you said you wanted this when it gets to be too much, 'kay, mama?"

A warning that you paid no mind to and instead giggled at, because Toji kissed your knuckles and your forehead when he finished binding your wrists together. You thought he wouldn't be too hard on you, and even if he was, you have a trick up your sleeve. You know that if you beg hard enough with shimmering eyes, he becomes a little more lenient. He eases up on you and gentleness starts to seep into his actions.

Well, that didn't work. Not this time. This time, he wanted to give you everything you asked for and more.

"Fuck..." Toji groans. "Look at that, ma." He displays his cum soaked, glistening fingers and shows you an update on the juices that have made their way down his wrist. "Come on, open your eyes and look," he says, patting your thigh.

Your bottom lip quivers and your eyes flutter open, your dim, weary gaze darting to the face of the man inflicting all these varying sensations your body is feeling.

"Not at my mug. Look at my hand and my forearm," Toji instructs, trying hard not to smirk at how utterly debauched you look. You look like you're going to cry, again. "Messy girl, you did that."

You mumble something quiet and unintelligible, and like a shark, Toji devours your pathetic attempt to speak. "Louder. I know you can be louder, or do you need some encouragement?" He asks, ghosting the knuckle of his index finger along your slit, resulting in your body full on jolting.

"Sorry!" You cry out, loud enough to have Toji laughing at your frantic repetition. "I said-- said i'm sorry," you stutter out, your voice unsteady.

You're ruined, yet somehow, this is a sight that has Toji's heart racing, like he's falling in love with you for the millionth time. It puts him through a conflict. It makes him want to be nice to you, it also makes him want to add on to your ruin, but more than anything, it sadistically makes him want to see you cry, again.

"Don't be sorry. This is what you wanted, right?" Toji groans, quietly, as he lies back down on his stomach, eyes focusing on your glistening cunt, again. "Wanted me to make you cry from the intensity of it all? Said you could handle being overstimulated, didn't you, ma?" His thumb drags up your slit, slow enough to have your inner thighs trembling as he makes his way up towards your overly sensitive clit. "Stay there," he commands, when you squirm the slightest bit away from him. He goes again, this time, dragging the pads of his index and middle fingers through your slicked folds.

"T-Toji," you whimper, your abdomen clenching and quivering with every one of his touches. "Toji, I--" you gasp, feeling the warmth of his tongue dragging through your folds and when you feel his fingers grazing your entrance, you can't help but whimper in anticipation for what's to come.

"Why are you shaking?" Toji asks, looking up at you, condescendingly. You can't scramble quickly enough to respond, before he's feeding his fingers into your drooling cunt. "Wanna cum?" He asks, taking in the sight of your returning tears with a menacing smirk. You don't know what to say, because on one hand, you get another orgasm, but on the other hand, you know you are going to be pushed past pleasure. "Yeahhh, you do. Look at that pretty face. Gonna make you cum so hard," he purrs, curling his fingers inside of you.

You don't know if you'll make it out of this one. You feel like you're being launched into heaven every time he makes you cum with his fingers and his mouth, but it's an immediate, full speed plummet to hell when he keeps going—keeps rubbing your clit while you spasm and practically choke on your breaths.

"Right there?" Toji asks, noticing a shift in the sounds of your moans. They're higher in pitch, quicker, and constantly interrupted by your sharp gasps. "Oh fuck," he growls. "That's it, huh?"

"I-I'm--" you whimper, "--fuck, fuck." Your chest heaves, your back slightly arching off the bed. "Toji," you call, frenzied by the overwhelming sensations. "I'm gonna die..." you blurt. "G-Gonna die," you cry out, tears spilling down the corners of your eyes and treading down your cheeks.

Toji watches, amusedly, as you struggle to figure out what to do while he keeps building you up. The mobility of your hands is limited due to your wrists being bound together, but your palms are dented by your nails to all hell. You barely have control of your legs, because even though they aren't restrained, Toji handles them however he needs to in order to give you what you asked for without you trying to stop him.

"You're fine. You can take it," he says, over the lewd, squelching sound of his fingers pumping in and out of you. "Last one, and you're giving me ten seconds."

"N-No!"

"Yes," he insists. "It's the last one, gotta make it a-"

It's unexpected, the wet mess you make all over Toji's hand, your thighs, and the sheets. You feel like your whole body is buzzing and your toes are curled so tightly that your feet are starting to hurt from the strain.

The countdown starts the second you start squirming and pressing your hips into the mattress. Toji's arms are hooked around your thighs, holding them open and still so he can use his mouth on you for all ten of those seconds and make a mess out of your overstimulated cunt. His lips are latched around your clit, one of his fingers pumping in and out of you, while you shake and pathetically sob from the borderline painful amount of stimulation. The skin of your palms must be broken by now from how hard you've been digging into them.

"Toj--" you barely manage, before your chest is heaving and racking out another sob.

The ten seconds are up, and Toji immediately eases off of you, releasing your visibly trembling legs so that you can move as you please. He crawls up the bed and sits beside you, quickly undoing the binding of your wrists and tossing the strip away.

"I know... I know, doll," Toji coos, wiping at your tear streaked cheeks. He doesn't instantly scoop you up into his arms, because you not wanting to be touched is definitely a possibility. He just sits there, by your side, and attempts to verbally soothe you while you work to compose yourself. "Just breathe, mama. It's all done. You're gonna be okay."

Once your breathing is more calm and you're not so rattled, he works his way up to touching you, starting with your shaky hands and the crescent shapes that litter your palms. He carefully runs his thumbs over the little marks, monitoring your reaction to make sure he isn't hurting you. He brings your hands up to his lips and kisses your knuckles, moving along each of your fingers and ending where his focus is needed most—your palms.

"You good, ma?" Toji asks, lying down on his side, facing you. He's still not pulling you into his arms, but one of his legs is pressed against yours, just to have some sort of physical contact with you.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you say, offering a soft smile. "It was just..." you hum, thinking.

"Intense?" Toji cuts in, to which you nod. "But I didn't hurt you too bad? You're alright?"

"Yes, baby," you assure. "I would've used my safe word if it was too much for me to handle. We touched on that before we started this, remember?" Your hand goes to cup his cheek, but he intercepts it by grabbing your wrist and bringing your hand up to his lips, again.

"Don't be scared to use that word, ma. Don't ever push your boundaries for me, alright? I don't give a fuck if i'm about to bust. If you're not feeling it, we're gonna stop, okay? The last thing I wanna do is to traumatize you."

"Jesus fuck, you're so sexy," you murmur, curling up into him. Your hand splays over his abdomen and rubs slowly, a simple gesture that makes his cock start throbbing and twitching in his sweats, the longer you do it. "Yes, Toji. I won't ever hesitate," you assure, your words promised, physically, through a kiss. The feeling of your lips against his, only further fuels his arousal. You can feel the way he impatiently kisses you back, like he's trying to inhale you. The way he grips your hip and pulls you so that your body is pressed against him, further communicates his need for more of you.

"I'll be so gentle with you, doll," he mumbles, into your neck, pressing kisses to it, afterwards. "Please? Let me treat you right, this time."

You giggle as he continues murmuring quiet little pleas into your neck, through kisses.

"I wanted you to do it, baby, but alright, treat me your way. The right way."

[ganjies]

i just finished homicipher and i feel like my will to write is coming back somehow hi guys

I am SO sure that Mr. Crawling purrs when you pet him and i will not hear anyone say otherwise i will die with this opinion.

He's very vocal, laughs and giggles at anything he finds funny withouth any problems, squeaks and makes high pitched noise when you touch him in any way: hold his hand, pat his head, hug him. .

You two were in your ‘temporary’ bedroom, gently offered by Mr. Silvair, laying down the surprisingly soft mattress. You invited him to lay down next to you, since you didn't feel like having him starring up at your sleeping figure on the ground for several hours; he was currently laying next to you, with his head on your chest while your hand was going through his pitch black, long hair. A slight grey? blush made its way on his cheeks, his wide black smile getting slightly bigger.

Suddendly you hear a low noise that sounds like purring, were there any cats in this ghostly world? You look down at the man ghost on top of you, suddendly stopping your hand movement as the noise tones itself down till the room is silent. Mr. Crawling raises his head to look at you, slightly moving it to the side as to question why you stopped. “No like ?” he asks, worried that you got tired of him “I like” you reply as your hand starts to move again like you were doing before. He smiles at you before nuzzling his head back on your chest, and after a few seconds you hear it again. . Mr. Crawling was indeed purring because of your touch.

ok that's all i can write for now, if this gets enough attention maybe i can get back at writing again. .

[waves-against-a-cliff]

Simon Riley who after coming back to his flat (courtesy of the government) from his first deployment as 'Ghost', finds a momma cat yowling and crying. She's hurt and has four kittens tucked into her side. Simon takes them to the vet only to be informed that only one kitten survived and the momma is dead.

So he raises the kitten. Bhe bottle feeds it every two hours, keeps it warm and safe inside a box with a heating pad and a hoodie of his. He's sure that it'll die but he keeps trying anyways with the heart wrenching hope that he's wrong.

The kitten pulls through.

Now six years later, he has a sassy sphynx cat who cries and meows whenever she isn't fed on time. When his usual pet sitter bails on him just days before his next deployment, he scrambles. He never knows how long he'll be gone and that's an issue with pet hotels. He has to find someone trust worthy and capable of caring for his darling pet.

Then he meets you by pure coincidence. Ruthie had slipped between his legs on his way out to grab some more of the wet cat food she liked then made a bee line right towards you. She meowed and meowed until you crouched down to pet her. Simon swears he had never heard her purr that loudly before.

You smile up at him and comment on how he has a sweet cat (he doesn't. Ruthie knocks everything over and has broken so many mugs, plates and cracked so many screens he owns plastic versions of everything plus keeps his phone on him at all times). Simon says something about trying to find a pet sitter to you and immediately realizes what he said when you smile. "I can keep an eye on her for you. She seems like a sweetie." You coo and gently scratch under her chin. Traitor, it took him weeks to get her to let him do that. But how can he say no when she's already taken a liking to you.

[bi-writes]

your lieutenant won't take off his mask for you. ehhhh, but you can make it work, right? (18+, ghost x fem!reader)

"no one sees my face. not even you, bunny."

but you don't mind. his face surely isn't the thing that drew you to him in the first place. no, it was when you were sitting in a loud room, and it immediately went quiet because ghost shuffled in. when you watched him duck his fucking head to get through the door only to stand there broader than the width of it. when he looked down at you with what was definitely a scowl under that mask and grumbled out "little bunny" at you in the filthiest voice you'd ever heard.

he could call you those names all he wants; he likes bunnies.

it doesn't bother you, that he doesn't want to take off his mask. you can still kiss him nasty through it.

as far as you're concerned, that's his face. you pet it like it is as least, cupping his cheeks and pulling him close, nuzzling your nose against his. he huffs underneath it, but he never pulls away, and you lick a fat stripe over the bony cheek of his mask, whining when you taste salt and sand and gunpowder.

you soak it with your spit. you cradle his head, tilting it this way and that, flattening your tongue and licking over his jaw. he holds back a groan as you kiss him open-mouthed through it, pinching his fat cheeks and planting wet kiss after wet kiss over his puckered lips. his lips part easily for you, shaky breaths like music to you, and whenever you let out a soft moan, he can't help the way he fists your ass and pulls you closer.

you want him to taste you. you force his neck back, pulling his chin down, and you lean over him just enough that you can spit on the front of his mask. you press your face to his after, using your tongue to soak it into the fabric, and you practically purr when you feel his tongue pressing back, cotton practically dripping with your saliva as he sucks on it.

you can't wait to sit on his face next. top 10 ways to die, water-boarded by pussy has to be one of them.

[pepprs]

i never rly “got” people who could make ocs left and right and like come up w complex backstories and relationships for them and stuff (though ofc i admired that) but my GOD does animal jam have me plotting and scheming in ways i never thought i could.