#he’s been feeding himself to the vultures

[the-crimson]

Why do people keep thinking bbh is turning skulky or into a warden when it’s so obviously connected to the Soul Vultures/Souls in general XD

(Edit: also the deep dark doesn’t even exist on the qsmp, they aren’t using that version of Minecraft)

[atopvisenyashill]

i got too obsessed with big brother bc i can only hold one obsession in my mind at a time but one of the house guests (name is matt) was talking about how much he likes game of thrones & house of the dragon and he’s definitely a show only local BUT he actually knows dany’s name (as in, didnt just call her khaleesi like a lot of show only real life fans do) and had opinions on pacing & production which makes me feel like he’s less of a “i am team x” watcher and more of a “oh i love watching people in fun clothes murder each other” watcher and tbh i find those people much more tolerable lmao. it was cute watching him ramble about it on the feeds for like ten minutes straight while everyone else was like “oh isn’t emilia clarke in that? she’s so good in romcoms” and the light died in his eyes a bit lollll. this is him:

[cherubunie]

SIZE ~ (true form) sukuna x reader ౨ৎ .⋆。⊹ 18+

thinking about kuna with a size kink....... is not good for my mental health omg. sukuna has been stalking you for what seem like years. Watching you when you walk to class, going out with your friends, heading to work,,, and who you fuck yourself late at night. You've always had a feeling as if you were being watched for the last couple years. An unknown darkness that follows you around. It should have scared you away,,,, but you couldn't help but give into your sinful desires... especially on the night that this darkness comes to pay you a little visit.

word count: 7600 sukuna x reader smut. size kink,,, obviously. dumbification, fingering, slapping, overstimulation, heavy smut, corruption kink, stalking, voyeurism, breeding, monster fucking, heavy CNC. Double penetration. Perv! Monster! Stalker! Sukuna x Innocent! reader (I have a problem). True form sukuna smut (yes, we get a double dicker sandwich).

Sukuna always knew that he had a size kink, he just never acknowledged the fact until he met you. You were so small compared to him, it was like you were just a measly doll, a puppet. So pretty, so small, and so, so very innocent. He almost felt guilty for the things he fantasizes about doing to you. almost.

He additionally almost felt a little guilty for how many times he'd watched you masturbate through your window late into the night. The sounds you make while touching your pretty pussy were the only thing that calmed him after a long and stressful evening. He had been doing this for a while. Watching you, that is. He liked watching you get dressed for the day, guessing what makeup style you were planning on doing, the little pop you did with your lips right after you applied your lip gloss. It should be disgusting how many times he's rubbed one out to the sight of you popping those pretty pink, full glossy lips. but he didn't care nor did he feel a tinge of disgust towards himself.

He enjoyed all the times he's watched you walk to and from your little cafe job down the street. How your routine consisted of grabbing a coffee at a different spot despite being able to make yourself a free one at your place of work. How you would play with and feed your cats before heading out for the day.

He also enjoyed the days where you went out with your friends to the mall to shop, or to a restaurant for girls night. He especially liked it when you and your girls went out for dinner. All the cute and godawful tiny dresses you found yourself wearing always just about make him lose his cool. The only thing he hated about girls night out was the fact that you knew you were sexy, meaning men swarmed around you like vultures, eyeing you like a piece of meat. It made him want to bend you over the nearest table and fuck you right in front of everyone.

Sukuna owned you, he just hasn't put the collar on you yet.

Tonight was one of those nights where you went out with your girlfriends. Your hair was done up all pretty and your makeup took you hours to perfect, but it was all worth it for the evil, thigh clasping presence you felt in the dark corner of the club you were in. Your glossy lips were a tint of pink and your cheeks matched the deep red of the short dress you were wearing. The familiar dark energy seemed to be radiating all around you, more than normal.

He knew you couldn't see him, but sukuna stood at that corner of the room, hidden away from all the humans, his eyes locked onto one. Sweat glistened on the top of your breasts, and your lips seemed more plump than normal. But the thing that was driving him crazy was the fact that one man couldn't seem to leave you alone. he kept coming up to you in desprate search of starting a conversation, shamelessly eyeballing your prominent curves and licking his lips. sukuna wanted to explode his head right then and there for trying to seduce his woman. And what pissed him off even more was the fact that you were actually playing into it.

You kept making small touches to the mans arm whenever he said something "funny" and you bit your lip whenever he complimented you. But sukuna knew that your laugh wasn't genuine and your smile was a fake. He knew the real you. Of course he did. He'd been stalking you for months, if not years. he made his claim a while ago, and he wasn't gonna let some scrawny low life steal his property with a couple sad jokes.

Your smile faltered just a hair when you felt the dark presence leave the club. It was almost like a warm blanket had been ripped off of you. Your eyes seemed to glaze over, which led the random man to ask if you were okay.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I just feel sick for some reason" your response was an obvious lie, but apparently good enough for the man to believe.

"oh, are you alright, would you like a ride back to yours?" He asks, and to be completely honest, kinda made you cringe. Of course you didn't want a ride because the only reason you were talking to him was to make whatever was watching you jealous.

Sukuna found interest in you because of your innocence. But oh was he in for a surprise. You knew something had been following you, you knew it had been watching you whenever you touched yourself late at night. You've felt it since the very beginning.

its like you had your own curse.

You should have told somebody when the red flags started popping up out of nowhere; they started out small, ranging from your couch pillows being moved around, then progressed into things like your favorite pair of panties going missing, then to things that freaked you out, like waking up to your bedroom window being open in the morning even though you know for a fact that you had closed and locked it. You should have moved apartments. You should have done something when this started happening.

But you didn't. And it made you sick. Getting off on the fact that you knew you were being stalked by whatever was hunting you.

And the fact that you were upset that the mysterious darkness had left proves just how disgusting you actually are.

"guys, I think im gonna call a cab, I just got hit with a wave of sickness and I really just wanna go home and sleep" you told your friends after shooing off the man you had no interest in.

"omg girl are you okay? of course go home and rest im so sorry!" one of your friends said right after taking her 4th shot.

"yeah im fine, just not really feeling it"

"text me when you get home!"

Staring at the dark yet lively city lights flashing by you, you kept thinking about the little stalker you seem to have. You thought it was weird how turned on you got just from an energy, from a presence. You've never felt so.. needed. so, praised ?

No man, or woman. Has ever given you so much confidence, if that's the right word. And because of that, you've never felt another human beings intimate touch. You only want its touch. Whatever it is.

Sukuna knows what he does to you. He could basically see it radiating off of you. How much confidence you gained and how well you hold yourself. And he'd never been happier to be the one gifting you that grace. That's actually the main thing that peaked his interest about you. The way you held yourself throughout life. Nothing could stop you from getting what you want, and he admired that. It made him question himself at first, being so interested about a human being. It made him debate on keeping you alive. How dare a human make him question himself.

But that passed quickly the first time he'd seen your fingers fuck your pussy. it was delicious. he had to restrain himself from shattering your balcony door and fucking you stupid.

You felt it leaking through the cracks of your front door. It felt different than all the other times its followed you around and watched you throughout your life. It was stronger, and it turned you on so, so much more than normal.

You stood outside your apartment door debating on going inside. Your face was burning and your pussy was throbbing.

It felt like you were going absolutely insane, and it pissed you off not knowing what was making you into such a pathetic mess. With a deep breath, you opened your door only to be met with darkness aside from a few street lights illuminating your living room in a dull yellow.

You set your stuff on the couch before walking into your room, slinging your door open, you didn't even have to turn the light on to know that whatever it was, had decided to perch itself in your bed.

For the first time in years, you actually felt scared of whatever it was. Your whole demeanor changed in an instant, and it made sukuna chuckle.

That chuckle vibrated throughout your skull, straight down your core.

Wanting to fold in on yourself out of fear, but too turned on to do so; you walked in, closing the door behind you. Sukuna's eyes never leaving your much smaller frame.

Trying to hide the fact that almost your entire being is screaming at you to run away from the thing in front of you, you stand your ground.

"What are you?" You ask the figure you have yet to fully lay eyes on. All you're able to make out is a monster-like figure with four arms, two behind its head using them as a cushion against your headboard, and the other two resting on its thighs. Its legs are long and big, both of them spread apart, inviting you in, in the most almost taunting way imaginable. Its face is completely hidden in the dark, restricting you from seeing the cocky, shit eating grin plastered on its face.

"What a weird first question to ask, y/n."

Its voice sent chills down your spine, creating an even stronger pulse in your heart, and your clit. You involuntarily suck in a breath at the sound of its voice. Deep, husky and masculine. It's nothing like you've ever heard before, and it makes your skin crawl in excitement and fear.

He chuckles again at the gasp you let out. You stay in your spot, making sure to keep a safe distance away from him.

"Answer my question." The words left your throat as more of a command than anything else. Your eyes never leave his frame, even as he removes his arms behind his head and lean forward, crossing them across his chest. His eyes never leave your body either, drinking in the sight of your skimpy dress.

All he wants to do is burn it off of you and make you scream his name as you cream all over his cock, but that'll take a minute to happen, so he answers you instead.

"King of curses, my dear." His voice sending another wave of shivers coursing through your body. He stands, and your entire body starts screaming at you to run away. but despite that, you hold your ground, challenging the being in front of you.

He's at least over 7 feet tall, one set of arms still crossed over his chest, the other finds their way to rest on his hips.

"The name is Sukuna." You just about drop to your knees. not only is his voice is unbearable, but you've heard about him before. You never believed in ghosts, curses, spiritual beings, anything of the sort and you've never believed any of your friends or family members when they told you legends about the man standing before you, yet here you are. About to be torn apart by the king they've warned you about for so many years.

"Guess you've heard about me, hm?" You can't get your damn mouth to move or your throat to make any noise. Your eyes are as wide as planets and all you can do is take a shaky step back, mimicking his opposite step forward and towards you.

"Why- why are you here?" voice is shaking as you speak, your breathing is jagged, which is prominent in your stutter. Just as sukuna takes another step forward, his features are illuminated in the moonlight shining through your bedroom windows curtains. He's absolutely breathtaking, and not many people would say that.

I guess I really am fucked up huh

"oh y/n, don't play dumb now, doll." His grin never leaves his face and your eyes meet with his. He's scary in the best way possible, and it's making you want to wipe off that dumb grin by sitting on it.

"You're the one whose..." You take a moment to think, which is extremely hard when this monster starts stalking towards you ever so slowly, both sets of arms coming down to dangle by his sides. He tilts his head to the side and begins to hunch his back and bend over to get a closer look at you. The distance is closing in on the two of you, making you unintentionally walk backwards and into a wall.

The sudden feeling of the cold wall on your back makes you yelp in surprise, but you never look away. He hums at you, signaling you to finish your sentence.

"You're the one whose been watching me for so long.." You say under your breath. Chewing the skin on the bottom of your lip. Your hands clench into fists as he keeps getting closer and closer.

"don't act like you didn't enjoy my little haunting game, love. you do remember touching yourself just to the thought of me, right y/n?" His smug smile could be heard just by the tone of his voice. Your breathing deepens and he's stopped right in front of you, face to face with the thing that's been taking over your entire life for the past couple years. Your back would be disappearing into the wall if it weren't made out of sheetrock. He stands up fully and all you can do is stare straight ahead, looking directly in the center of his entire body. He's fucking huge. Letting out a shriveled breath, you close your eyes.

"Look at me, y/n."

You refuse to open your eyes, or even move in the slightest.

He gives you 15 seconds before one of his hands grips the base of your jaw and forces your face upwards to look at him, nails digging into the flesh of your rosy cheeks.

"I said, look at me." With a fearful yelp at the sudden contact, you force your eyes open and are met with the most sinful red eyes you could ever see in this lifetime.

"Good girl." He snickers at the petrified look that paints your face. Even though you look so scared, your eyes are clouded with so much lust. Sukuna can basically smell the arousal pooling in your panties and it's driving him up the wall. Without a word, he pins you in place, making no room for escape by pressing his one of his forearms against the wall above your head, another one finds its way trailing up your thigh.

You let out a desprate sigh at the contact of his fingers. He traces up the skin of your inner thigh, leaving goosebumps to trail behind until he's met with the flimsy fabric of your underwear and it takes him less than a fraction of a second to feel just how soaked you really are.

"You're disgusting." His voice somehow got an octave deeper, but who are you to complain? You whine at his words, following a louder whine as he starts to trace the slit of your pussy through your underwear. Sukuna's hand locks your head in place as you look up into his eyes as he pushes your underwear to the side and pinches your clit, his fingernails creating a painfully pleasurable feeling.

With a loud yelp, your hips buck forward. With his final free arm, he uses his hand to push your hips back against the wall, keeping you in one place.

"Stay still." He commands. His hand on your hip is locking you in place, so you have no option than to obey. His finger traces patterns on your clit and moans dance off your tongue as a result. His fingers pick up the pace and are now harshly massaging at your center.

"a-ah, slow ple-" Without stopping his brutal pace, sukuna lets go of your face and just before it can fall forward, he grips a handful of your hair and yanks it backwards roughly. your eyes to lock with his once more. A scream at the sudden pain erupts from the back of your throat.

"Don't tell me what to do, i'll use you how I please." Sukuna pulls his fingers away from your clit only to land a harsh slap on the bundle of nerves, making you yelp loudly and your body jolt in surprise. He slaps it a couple more times before forcing two of his fingers into your wet pussy.

Sukuna's fingers slide in with ease thanks to his assult on your clit. He was standing at such a close proximity to your body that when your back archesoff the wall, your stomach and chest meet his front. Just as your body meets his, he decides to let go of your hair, making your head fall forward and onto his center. Your hands instinctually reach up and wrap around his body, using him as leverage to keep yourself from falling. Your nails dig into his back as his fingers work wonders deep inside of you, all you can do is bury your head into him to suppress your noises.

His fingers pump in and out of your pussy, curling and twisting at all the right angles, fingering your core as if he's trying to tear you apart from the inside out. Wet sounds come from just below you, but neither of you seem to hear them because they're drowned out by your loud moans and whimpers of pleasure. Sukuna's eyes never leave your body as you come undone.

His now free hand that was once in your hair decides to hook under your thigh, picking it up and letting it dangle, helping get a better angle to fuck you with his fingers. Because of this newfound angle, your back and head hit the wall behind you once more, but your arms don't leave his body.

"Look at you, such a pretty girl. So fuckin' small I could break you so, so easily." Your nails scratch at his back like there is no tomorrow and all you can do as a response is whimper.

"su- kuna" Your hiccuped plea of his name is enough to know you're about to cum all over his fingers, but he wont let that happen just yet.

"say it, y/n" Sukuna says, his voice solid. You look up, tears welled in your eyes as you look into his and your voice breaks.

"Please can I cum, please k-una please please please" Your cheeks are a deep shade of red and your mouth is slightly ajar and oh does sukuna wanna fill up your pretty mouth and ruin that pretty pink lipgloss that stain your full lips.

Without another word, his smirk deepens and his chuckle vibrates inside your skull. He takes his fingers out of you, your juices now running down your thighs and you're pretty sure your panties are completely ruined thanks to the demon above you. Your eyes widen while you plea him to continue with a hushed whimper.

"Hush, little one" is all he says before one set of arms is gripping your thighs and hauling you into the air. Your legs wrap around his torso on instinct and your throat lets out a surprised squeal at his actions. Your hands come up and one of them grips his shoulder, the other rests in his hair. You're now face to face with sukuna and his eyes look deeply into yours. one of his other free hand's is tangled in your hair within a fraction of a second and is pulling you in to kiss him with so much force, it almost gives you whiplash.

Your tongue tangles with his and you let out another squeal of surprise right into his mouth when your back hits the cushioning of your bed. Sukuna is now on top of you, his torso flat against your heat. The hand that was once tangled in your hair is now trailing its way to your neck. Sukuna breaks the kiss and you go to lean forward in protest, but his huge hand wrapped around your neck stops you. Another hand rests on the headboard above you, and the two that were holding you up now rest at the top of your dress.

With brute force and in the blink of an eye, your once beautiful red dress and strapless braw are now being ripped off of you, tiny flames ignite from the freshly ripped seam for a just a fraction of a second. You gasp at the sudden action and Sukuna's glowing red eyes never falter to look at the reaction on your face. He laughs once more at just how jumpy you are. the cold air hits your skin, causing your nipples to grow hard and goosebumps form on your smooth skin. Sukuna grabs the dress and bra out from under you and throw the articles of clothing across the room to be forgotten, all while looking right at you. Once the dress is out of sight, you look up at him, your eyes half lidded with lust that are basically begging him to use you.

Sukuna smiles at how innocent, yet already fucked out you look and decides to lean down toward your breasts, taking one of your nipples and fondiling it inside of his warm mouth. His tongue laps at you and your hands fly to his hair, pulling it out of pleasure. His two free hands now rest at your thighs, slowly pulling them apart, to which you happily obliged. His mouth moves from your nipple and starts to suck at the skin of your breasts. His mouth trails from your chest, down to your stomach and abdomen, leaving deep purple marks and bites that will most likely be staying for days, if not weeks. Your whimpers are like music to Sukuna's ears which only make him want to make you scream his name.

The hand that rested on the headboard is now grabbing your hands from his hair and forcing them down onto the mattress above you and the set of hands that were on your thighs are on your hips. Your eyes dont leave his, even as he rips your panties and throws them in the same direction he did your other clothes, making you bare yourself completely to him.

His hands part your thighs once more and pins them down, holding you in place.

"So cute, so tiny. 'could just ruin you hm?" he speaks as he lowers his head down to your heat, his breath fanning your dripping pussy. Your breathing is even more uneven than before as it's mixed with your hushed moans. Without taking his eyes off yours, he sticks out his tongue and licks a stripe up your cunt, causing your jaw to slack open in the perfect "oh" shape as your whine rings inside sukuna's skull. He licks up your cunt a couple more times before it initially lands on your clit, then he buries his head into your thighs and nips at you like a dog in heat.

His mouth sucks, bites and laps at your clit, and you try with all your strength to buck your hips up, but to no avail, the hands on your thighs pin you in place as your arms are basically unuseful. All you can do is throw your head back in pleasure as this creature devoures you. His grip on your throat tightens a little more and suddenly it's more difficult to breathe, but you dont even care.

Sukuna's saliva mixes in with your fluids that run down your thighs and asscheeks, wetting the bed under you. His long tongue fucks itself inside your pussy and against your walls as his teeth drag across your clit. Sukuna doesn't look away from you, not for a second. He wants to see every twist on your face and flex of your abs as he eats you out, he's desperately and intensively observing you, as if you were the most beautiful, treasurable piece of art he's ever layed eyes on. His tongue is rough as he creates a rhythm of fucking your insides, and sucking your bundle of nerves.

Your arms tug at the restraint of his hands holding your wrists. He's so much stronger than you, yet that fact alone turns you on so much more. Your moans and hushed screams fill the room as small beads of sweat gather on your hairline. Your body twitches under sukuna's control and your clit is throbbing for release as he toys with you.

You're so close to finishing and sukuna can tell so easily. Your moans grow into louder screams and your back arches off the bed. His grip on your throat tightens, cutting off all supply of air and your eyes are thrown open as you choke and cough, trying to get any oxygen possible.

Sukuna laughs into your pussy, which vibrates through your whole body. Your eyes look down into his, desperately trying to tell him to let you cum, or breathe. Whichever one he will let you do. Your silent plea only turns him on even more and your vision is starting to blacken and your head begins to feel light.

"Fuck, you're so adorable when you're beggin' for your life" He says as he sits up and hovers over you, refusing to let you finish. The hand on your throat disappears and you cough and gasp for air, but just as you suck in a deep breath, its knocked out of you by a harsh slap to your face and all you can do is gasp in pain at the sudden stinging on your cheek. He grips your face directly after with the hand he had previously slapped you with and forces you to look down at your pussy.

One of the hands on your thighs moves up to your cunt and plunges inside you. Two of Sukuna's fingers thrust inside your cunt at lightning speed and curl up into your center, hitting that spot you need him most. You choke out a scream and your hips grind into his palm.

"Look at the mess you're making y/n. Such a nasty little girl you are." He says as he looks at your pretty face contorting from the overstimulation he brings upon you.

Sukuna's fingers are relentless as they move fast inside of you. Not even a couple seconds later, you're cumming all over his hand and arm, squirting your fluids all over him as well as your bed sheets. You come undone with a scream.

"K-kuna oh my god!" You're being so loud, you could almost bet the neighbors across the street could hear. Neither of you cared though, all you cared about was how you were about to be torn in half.

Your eyes are watery again and you're still desperately trying to gather air in your lungs. Sukuna's hands let go of your wrists and face, but right after, you hear an article of clothing rip. You sit up slightly in wonder, but your mouth instantly hangs open at the sight of two handsomely large cocks sprung up, hitting just above Sukuna's belly button. Your mouth instantly dried at the sight.

Speaking of sights, Sukuna thought you were a beautiful one. Your hair was a shriveled mess and your face was the most gorgeous shade of red. You looked so fucked out, yet so ready to take anything he gives you like the obedient whore you are. You had a look of fear and interest plastered on your face. Sukuna was never one for love or anything of the sort, but the moment he layed his eyes on you those couple years ago, he knew he was fucked. You were just so different than most of the humans he had ever made contact with. You didn't care about the difference between "good and bad" and you always took what you wanted without second thought, even if it took you a while to grasp. You were always ready for whatever was thrown at you and were always in control of everything around you.

That's why he decided to stick around. Since the beginning, he's wanted to corrupt your world and fuck up your flow of control. He was arrogant and cocky. You just needed someone, or something, to step in and take control over you. And sukuna was never going to let anybody else besides him take control over his woman.

Though he would never admit it out loud, you were breathtaking. You're also the only reason he hasn't burned this world to the ground,,,, completely.

"Think you can take em'?" Sukuna's voice never fails to make a shiver run up your spine. You don't answer him, all you do is stare into his eyes, a silent plea to just have him use you however he pleases. He takes your lack of an answer and laughs quietly under his breath. He brings one of his hands to his face, and smiles into his palm.

"you're gonna be the death of me."

His body slowly stalks towards you, crawling onto the bed, trapping your body between his and the headboard. Your thighs rub together in desprate search of friction. You can't take it any longer, you need him inside you. You need every part of this being in any way you can have him.

"I don't care if you think you can take my cocks' or not, I'll force you to take em' how bout that, yeah?" His head tilts as he speaks and one of his hands grips your leg and pulls your body down farther onto the bed, causing you to lay down underneath his much larger body.

"You're so- so big kuna.." Your voice is uncontrolled and small. Unlike earlier where your screams and moans were ear piercing and just so delicious. Your eyes look up into his, your hands sneak up to wrap around one set of his arms, squeezing his biceps as you chew on the skin of the inside of your cheek.

Sukuna groans at your words. He really was huge, trapping your body underneath his. One of his hands grips the headboard, another comes down to grip the side of your face. His thumb traces your bottom lip, smearing your lipgloss.

Just as you open your mouth, his thumb presses down on your tongue as you suck in his finger. One of your hands makes its way down his body, gripping one of his huge cocks in your small hand. Despite the size difference, Sukuna still hisses in response. You pump his hard dick a couple times, looking directly into his eyes as you suck on his thumb. With painful force, sukuna grips your wrists and suddenly, both your hands above your head once more.

With one hand gripping the headboard, one holding your wrists in place, another moves from your mouth to grip one of his dicks while the final hand holds himself up, hovering right above you. You whine at the lack of control you have, grinding your hips upwards as a sign to let you go, but all sukuna does is laugh at your attempts of escape.

"Stop moving, slut." He pushes one of his dicks at your pussys entrance, but you don't listen to him, you grind your hips upwards once more and Sukuna doesn't seem to like that very much.

"Told you to stop movin' brat" and without warning, or any lube (as if you needed any) he pushes one of his cocks into your pussy with full force. It has you automatically screaming at the stretch. It's painful and you're pretty sure you're bleeding.

Sukuna bottoms out inside of you and stills, the outline of his dick prominant through your stomach, it drives him insane.

Sukuna uses his now free hand and pushes down on the outline of his cock through your tummy and chuckles.

"Fuck you're so small y/n, look at your tummy baby" You obey him and look down, seeing the outline of his huge dick bulging in your abdomen. A scared moan leaves your lips as you take in the sight. It literally looks like he could split you in half at any given moment. Sukuna pulls his dick out, a painful sensation radiates through your vagina as he does. The bulge in your tummy disappears and sukuna's face falters into one of disappointment.

"fuck, you're bleedin' y/n! " sukuna says to you, and just as you're about to look for yourself, he thrusts his dick back inside you, filling you back up again. He bottoms out inside you and a strangled moan that sounds more like a cough forces its way out of your throat.

"full- im so full, too full please-" Sukuna's face turns into one of disappointment again at your words as he says

"that's too bad, I wasn't even close to being finished with stuffin' you doll." He mocks you, and just as he finishes talking, you feel his second cock at the entrance of your ass, which causes you to shoot your head up.

"No, no please dont" you beg him, despite your words not being how you really feel, you beg him not to anyways. sukuna's face is still one that mocks you, pretending as if he feels bad for splitting you open. He pushes his tip into your ass so slowly it almost makes this situation better. The stretch is unbearable, especially with how tight you are with another cock spreading you open and filling you already.

Sukuna's entire tip is stuffed inside, waiting for you to adjust to his length.

"Look at you, taking me so well. Such a good little girl aren't you?" His voice is taunting you. Your arms feel weak from how much you've been struggling to break free, so all you can do I lay there and adjust to his cocks with hushed moans.

Sukuna starts moving his cock deeper inside you slowly, but not slow enough.

"Kuna please no, it's too much I can't take it" Your head shakes from side to side as painful tears fall from your eyes and down your cheeks. Sukuna pouts at this and leans down and uses his tongue to lick the tears away.

"you can take it, you're already doing such a good job for me." This reassurance helps you a little more, and with every inch growing deeper inside you, you find it hard to breathe, and sukuna notices.

He leans down and whispers deeply into your ear

"breathe my dear."

you listen to him and take deep breaths. In one particular deep breath, sukuna takes it upon himself to completely push the other half of his cock into you, getting it done in one swift motion just as you breathe out.

His actions cause you to scream in pain,,, and in pleasure. More tears fall from your eyes. Sukuna doesn't even give you time to adjust this go around, he just can't wait any longer.

"fuck, takin' my cocks' so well, you're so fuckin' tight, couldn't help myself" Sukuna says into your ear.

Your ass feels so tight as he thrusts in and out of both your stretched holes. the pain subsides into pleasure after a couple strokes and your painful hisses turn into sickening moans.

The sound of skin slapping echos off the walls of your dark room, the only light source being the moonlight shining through your window. Your pussy feels like it's going to burst every time sukuna's dicks thrust back inside you.

Sukuna's grip on your bed frame is so tight, the wood crumbles in his hand

"fuck" He curses under his breath

He needs to grip onto something, anything, so he decided to harshly grip the sheets that lay right next to your head. He looks from your face, down to your pussy where he sees his cocks move in and out of you, stretching you so beautifully.

When he looks back up at you, your teary, half lidded eyes lock onto his. You dont break eye contact, even as you moan out his name like a chant that dances off your tongue straight into his ears. And he loves it.

Your walls squeeze his dick's like you're trying to milk him dry. He's even surprised both of them fit inside you.... as if he didn't literally force them to fit.

"Please please let me touch you, just wan' touch please kuna' please" you moan out, begging him to let go of your arms. Much to his objection, he lets you go.

Your arms instantly wrap around his back, nails digging into his skin as you pull your bodies closer together. Your boobs press up against his broad chest as your sweat rubs into his skin.

Two of his arms hold his body up on his forearms above your head now, the other is pinning your stomach to the bed, the feeling of his dick entering and exiting your pussy being felt through your tummy.

his last free hand finds its way to the small of your back, his arm wrapping around your body and pressing you somehow closer against his. Your face is directly into his chest as you moan and scream out his name as his thrusts become wicked and fast, his hips snapping against yours. Your legs spread out for him to take advantage of you.

Sukuna looks down at you buried into his chest, his body hot and sweaty. Your nails scratching daggers into his back, you're pretty sure you can feel blood under your fingernails.

With each thrust inside you, your moans are choked and jagged and it's hard to breathe. The coil in your tummy is about to burst and you feel like you could explode from just how full you really were. Everything was too much, yet so perfect. Sukuna felt as if he was going to burst too, everything was so hot and wet, it was only driving him even more insane.

Your screams grew louder with each stroke of his cocks, signaling to sukuna that you were close.

"want me to come inside you? full you up and breed you like a dumb fuckin whore, turn you into a mommy?" He asks you, and all you can do is shake your head.

"you're gonna take my cum weather you want to or not, understand? Fill you up so nice nd' warm" He bares his teeth as you scream his name..

"no, no please dont I can't handle it, too full please k-una!" He doesn't like this answer, and it causes him to groan through his teeth. With a set of his arms, he grips your waist harshly, and with the other, he's stabilizing himself on the bed above you and sits up slightly.

"I dont care what you want, you're gonna take whatever I give you." he says before pulling his cocks out and flipping you onto your tummy. Your yelp of surprise is cut short as your hands grip at the sheets above you, trying to pull your body up and away from the monster.

"ah ah ah, dont run away from me, im nowhere close to being done with you." Sukuna stands up at the edge of the bed, his feet on the floor. He grabs your ankles and pulls you to the edge where he stands. He lets go of your ankles and roughly grips your hips, pulling you up and slightly into the air. He forces your knees down into the mattress, your ass up and your face in your sheets. His hands remain on your hips as another one of his hands finds a handful of your hair, gripping and pulling your head upwards and next to his chest, forcing you into a painful arch.

Sukuna bends over so his face is next to your ear. His long tongue licks your neck, and up to the lobe of your ear just before he bites it, your moan in exchange.

"now shut up and let me ruin you" is all he says before forcing your face down into your sheets, one of his hands pressing your head down into the mattress.

Sukuna thrusts his cocks into your holes once more, resulting in a muffled scream coming out of your mouth, but he doesn't move. his hips flush against your ass. Sukuna lifts one hand from your hips and lands a harsh smack on your ass, leaving your skin red. Your walls tighten around his cocks.

so he does it again

and again

and again

over and over and over until you're creaming all over his cock and squirting all over your bed once more with more muffled screams.

"pathetic. squirting all over my cock with just a few slaps to your ass. how disgusting could you possibly get?" He mocks you again, landing one more painful slap to your ass as your liquids drip down your thighs and onto the mattress below you. He grabs the flesh of your ass with both of his hands and slowly pulls his dicks out of you, the empty felling in your tummy has you begging for him to fill you back up.

sukuna's face twists into one of interest as he hears your whines of protest.

"oh? what a little slut I have on my hands. and here I thought you truly didn't want me to tear you apart" he says as he thrusts his cocks deep back inside you, hitting your sweet spot that has you squealing ever so loudly. Your hands above your head painfully grip the sheets, your nails digging into your palms drawing blood. His thrusts are endless and with each one, he grows deeper inside of you. He uses one of his hands and rakes his nails down your back, scratching at your skin. It was a painfully blissful feeling that had your walls squeezing his cocks so tight, it causes sukuna to curse under his breath.

With a chuckle, he says

"you're so fukin' tight, im gonna fill you up so full, so swollen with my baby, you'll forever be marked as mine, you'd like that huh?" of course sukuna was lying, he would never ever want to reproduce, but the way you're milking his cocks is making him reconsider his entire opinion on that subject.

His thrusts grow faster and stronger, your pussy and ass flutter around his dicks so prettily, he can see it whenever he looks at your holes. You moan his name over and over again, like it's the only thing you know how to say.

The knot in your abdomen kept getting tighter and tighter every time he hit your sweet spot, you were so close to finishing and all you could do is yearn for sukuna to carry you to the finish line. So that's exactly what he did.

The hand holding your head down into the mattress disappeared, so you turned your head to the side, resting your cheek against the mattress, your eyes find his and oh fuck

oh good god

sukuna lost it

he threw his head back with a loud moan and tightened his grip on your hips so intensely he felt your skin break from under him, his nails digging into your flesh as blood ran down your legs, pooling on the sheets, staining his fingertips.

You had a puddle of drool where your face lays. your lips were bleeding from biting down on them so roughly, and your eyes. oh fuck your eyes were so perfect. it was as if sukuna could read a whole book just by looking into your eyes.

Just as he was about to finish, you came all over him once more, wetting the bed, soaking it really. Your walls fluttered all around him like the butterflies in your stomach. as you came, sukuna shot warm ropes of cum straight into your ass and tummy, so full it was leaking out of both your holes. but it wasn't enough.

It wasn't enough for sukuna.

In the middle of both your orgasms, he resumed his thrusts, but your body gave out and you collapsed on the mattress, your stomach hitting the wet bedding.

your body couldn't move, you became putty in his hands and you had no complaints.

sukuna cursed as he crawled over you, his dicks never leaving your walls. one of his arms snaked its way under your arm to grip your throat, another one held your tummy, another spread your legs enough for him to continue fucking you, and the last one held him up.

His hips met your asscheeks in a monsteristic rhythm, a burning sensation beginning to form on your flesh. your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your jaw layed slack open, drool running down your chin.

he was fucking his cum into you, making your soul intertwine with his in more ways than one. He fucked you through your next and final orgasm, your legs shook involuntarily as your guys' mixed cum got everywhere. it dripped down sukuna's cock, onto the mattress, between your thighs, onto his abdomen, all over your asscheeks, it was everywhere.

Your eyes closed, even as his thrusts continued, your mind faded away from your body and before you fully lost consciousness, you could hear sukuna's words ring through your ears.

"Ill see you soon, y/n."

[gofishygo]

nikto + reader blurb

notes: mostly fluff, sex mentioned but no explicit scenes, slight body horror (nikto's scars), canon typical violence [mentions], god i love it when characters manage to heal and come to terms with their past and fall in love

honestly hoping n praying that nikto learns to live the softest n slowest life ever after meeting reader.

he's never gotten a day of comfort in his life, not after those interrogations. scared away both women and men in and outside of the military ever since then- face and body already nothing short of brutish and jagged angles, a bulk of muscle and fat that shadowed over every figure, weathered down to a near-macabre sight at the result of warfare. now the right half of his gum is exposed, torn apart by shrapnel and knife carvings that dragged across his face. sliced-off nostrils, yellow teeth poised at the world that had wronged him like a vulture preparing to feast- it was his unfortunate charm, the one that left him so often kicked out of brothels and whispered about in bars and revered in the barracks, smoking freely without disturbance in places where such had been outlawed years ago. of course he sees you- all keen and watching innocently, so starry eyed that it seems to blind you from his nature.

nikto would look down at his hands and see them as none further than machines. structured with bone and flesh to take down targets, but a puppet to the whims of the other voices that thrived only in his head. he was no more than the manifestation of his disorders, only set to take down the corpses that kortac had pointed at, the ones that kortac claimed to have wronged him.

and then you truly slip into his life, all doe-eyed and star-crossed. he thinks its none other than blasphemy, some sort of sick joke when you practically glue to him at the coffee shop, fixed on the crossword puzzles between his calloused hands. prodding around and occasionally chirping answers, some curious, but unfortunate, little thing that ended up right between his jaws. and he tries to spit you out, brush you off- your greetings at bars, parks, streetsides, alleyways none other than ignored with cold eyes and a masked face. but your laugh, sweet words- it trickles between cracks, melts the solute of stone, and soon enough, you're in his bed at seven am, tucked under his arm. he'd given you what you've wanted; held your body as gently as he had the ability to, growled some praise in your ear, let you sob into the pillows.

so he doesn't expect it when you show up at his door once again, oh-so-lovely smile on your face. certainly even more surprised when you keep coming, and cant deny the way his head goes a little fuzzy when he sees the notes you leave while he's in deployments, how you fold his sheets and put some flowers in a vase you'd bought that rested on his kitchen countertop. he leaves the door unlocked now, gives you the keys, and lets you in when the nights are cold.

you teach him things- how to tell if he's dreaming. learns to see his hands as more than accessories to murder, uses them as indicators to split his reality from the ones owned by his voices. you're teaching him how to make coffee and trim flowers and all he is learns is how to look at the world without staining it with blood. but it's okay- you help steady his shaking hands, hold the kettle of boiling water with him, and the weeks eventually unfurl into years.

and now, he wakes up next to you every morning, stays in bed cuddling with you until you reluctantly have to shove him away because although he's retired you still have a job, and he waters the plants and feeds the dogs outside, waiting only until you and the furry critters are well away to smoke. but it is not out of stress, no longer to rid himself of his heads, and more of a bad habit now. and the hole that the lack of conflict has left in him is so filled with you and your smile and your patience, with taking care of the garden, making coffee, helping with your paperwork. the never ending spurr of his voices still keeps him up at night sometimes, leaves him twitching. but it allows him to watch you fall asleep, feel your pulse under his cupped hand, even through the throbbing pain.

this is what life is meant to be like, maybe. taking off his mask and unbuckling the straps so he can feel your lips against what was left of his.

[kelnexia]

I’m still not sure if this will actually happen, but I’ve been daydreaming about how Rot Merged Pebbles would work as a modded character. And even if this mod doesn’t become a reality – the brainstorming I’ve been doing on his states and abilities will still be useful for other things.

States and abilities are listed below the cut. (Warning – it gets a little creepy in some parts.)

Diet / Eating habits:

He has a total of 9 food pips to fill – 8 base requirement pips, and 1 storage pip.

The rot’s acid is strong enough that he can swallow and digest nearly anything… However, he will refuse to eat explosives, spears, pearls, and neuron flies. (He refuses to eat explosives and spears out of fear of injuring himself, he won’t eat pearls because he doesn’t want to destroy them, and his violence taboos prevent him from committing cannibalism via eating neuron flies.)

While he can eat basically anything – meat is the most satiating for him. Small prey is often swallowed whole as a result of the rot’s gluttonous instincts infecting his mind.

If he enters starvation – the rot will knock him unconscious and take control of his body in its desperation to feed. It will indiscriminately consume all life it can get its tentacles on, and will only relinquish its control once its hunger is satisfied. (Blue X pupils will form in his eyes when the rot takes control.)

Combat and Movement:

He can use his tentacles to grab and pull in prey or enemies to bite them. His bite deals 2.45 points of damage. (This move can backfire if the target has enough health to survive his initial attack.)

He can switch between walking on his legs, and walking on his tentacles. (Standard movement when on legs – DLL movement when on tentacles.)

He can use his rot to hold three items of any type on his back.

Most creatures are frightened by his rot. (This functions similarly to holding a vulture mask.)

His spear throws deal 1.25 points of damage. (Same as hunter.)

He can’t drown, as he does not need to breath.

He has a durability mechanic; it’s basically a health bar – most damage won’t instantly kill him, it will only drain his durability. He only dies when his durability runs out, or if he’s hit by something that completely destroys him. He can also struggle free from grasps at the cost of durability. His durability replenishes after sleeping.

Extra gimmicks:

He starts in his puppet chamber, next to his broken off umbilical. He’s in the endgame version of Rivulet’s world state.

If you take the music pearl with you – it will appear in the sleep screen along with its music. You can also activate it at any other time you want.

He starts with very low scavenger reputation.

Pebbles can read pearls. He also contributes to conversations when interacting with other iterators. If you sit him down next to Moon, she will hug him and hold onto him for as long as you stay still.

He’s being followed by a large number of his and Moon’s overseers.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 5,818

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Reader pronouns: she/her

Era: the Whisperers

Warnings: language (lots of swearing always haha), typical TWD violence

Summary: Daryl finds himself in a tight spot in the woods when walkers are suddenly behaving in ways they shouldn't.

A/N: This is the first part of a news series! Thanks for joining me on another new adventure.

“How was it?” Carol asked, catching sight of Daryl as he came in.

The archer shrugged. “Got somethin’. Deer. Ain’t much. Was pretty scrawny, but better than nothin’. Dropped it off at the pantry,” he drawled. He hesitated and she saw it immediately.

“What is it?” she asked, her brow furrowing.

Daryl shook his head and shrugged again. “I dunno. S’weird. I felt like somethin’ was watchin’ me out there some of the time.”

She leaned heavily on the counter, a tight frown growing on her face. “Something?”

“Or someone maybe,” Daryl said with a shrug.

The worry lines on her forehead deepened. “Well, did you see any sign of anybody out there? How close were you to here, to Hilltop?”

Daryl hauled his crossbow off his shoulder and shrugged. “I didn’t see shit. And I was a ways off but not far enough. Close enough that if somebody is out there, they’d probably stumble their way here eventually. Made sure nobody could follow me back but—” He chewed on his bottom lip anxiously. “I dunno.”

Carol looked worried and her eyes drifted to Henry where he stood with Alden and Earl, already starting his blacksmith training.

Daryl reflexively reached for his knife in its sheath, meaning to check the sharpness of the blade. He swore when his hand grasped at air. “Fuck!” he growled.

“What is it?” Carol asked.

Daryl sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, annoyed. “I must have left my knife out there… Prob’ly set it down after I gutted the damn deer. There were walkers comin’ and I was in a hurry.” He sighed heavily again. “Shit. I’ll go back for it tomorrow. See what else I can see out there. I can’t shake the damn feeling somethin’ was out there.”

Carol nodded, her brow still furrowed.

“Ya heard anything from Michonne? How’re the kids?” Daryl asked.

Carol’s expression dropped. “Haven’t heard. We’re still… not talking. She’s keeping Alexandria closed off.”

“Mmm,” Daryl hums, swinging his crossbow back up on his shoulder. He was about to go on, but Tara, Jesus, and Aaron come running up. They exchange greetings and hugs before Daryl excuses himself to find some place to crash with Dog for the night.

Carol puts her arm around Henry’s shoulder as they watch him wander toward the barn. “I guess he’s not so bad,” Henry comments. “Henry!” Carol scolds him, but she can’t help laughing a little herself.

_ _ _ _ _ _

The next morning Daryl woke early like usual, plagued by the same old restlessness that never seemed to have a cause or a cure. He wanted his damn knife back, and that nagging feeling was still bothering him, like a tickle at the back of his brain, some itch he couldn’t reach to scratch. That feeling he had been watched the day before. He assembled his gear, grabbed a spare knife, and set off beyond the walls of Hilltop and back into the woods, retracing his route from the day before.

It was easy to retrace his steps. Even if he hadn’t known the woods like the back of his hand by then after his six years of wandering, the circle of vultures and noisy cawing of ravens squabbling over the gut scraps of the carcass drew him. He prepared himself in case there were walkers feeding too. He found the gut pile easily and started to search the ground nearby for his knife. He felt through the leaf litter and kicked over sticks and through nearby bramble but his search was initially fruitless. Did the damn thing sprout legs? What the hell… It wasn’t until he stood up in frustration and really scanned his surroundings that the glint of something silver caught his eye.

Daryl’s eyes narrowed as they landed on the metallic object. The hair on the back of his neck prickled and stood on end. He found himself carefully surveying the entirety of his surroundings again, straining his hearing for any sound of movement, squinting into the shadows cast by the large trees overhead. He cautiously approached the nearby tree trunk, watching where he placed his feet, waiting for someone to pounce like this was a trap and he was the mouse going for the cheese.

His knife was hanging from an arrow shot into the trunk of a huge oak, dangling from a leather strap. Daryl carefully slid it off and inspected it. It looked just as it had the day before, except for the addition of the makeshift loop in order to hang it from the arrow. Oh—and it had been sharpened? The blade was honed to perfection. And the arrow was something else… He grabbed and pulled on the shaft, but the head broke off and remained buried deeply in the tree. He could tell, however, that it had been handmade. The fletching was of stiff, black, glossy feathers with a slightly iridescent sheen. He spun the shaft between his fingers and watched the way the light shone on them, shifting from plum to emerald to shining sapphire blue and then back to deep night. He glanced over his shoulder, frozen, listening.

He didn’t know what the fuck was going on, but he knew one thing for certain now; he wasn’t imagining that feeling of being watched. But who was watching and why would they bother to hang a found knife in case its owner returned? Most people would have considered it a good find and kept it for themselves. He maintained it religiously as a rule. It was in perfect condition. Not that he was complaining… but it seemed fucking peculiar.

As he turned toward home, a raven let out a series of raspy croaks overhead and took flight. The wood was so quiet that Daryl could hear the wind through its wings as it flapped past and wheeled upwards, disappearing into the canopy of the craggy trees.

Daryl began to slowly search the area for any sign of someone, but was surprised and even more perplexed when he couldn’t seem to find a leaf or twig out of place. Not even a damn partial footprint… an impression in the ground. Nothing. The archer scoured the area thoroughly for the next couple hours, knife back in its sheath and the mysterious arrow shaft with its inky black fletching clutched in his right hand. He kept his eyes open for game, but it seemed to be making itself as scarce as clues were. There were seemingly endless game trails, old and new, and he walked them as systematically as he could. It was the easiest way to get around. Step off to either side and the blackberry brambles and vines would tear at your clothes and skin, biting in and drawing blood. That alone should have made it easier to figure out if someone was lurking around, but he found neither track nor trace… With the day wearing on and no sign of anything else out of the ordinary, Daryl conceded and decided to head back to Hilltop. At least he had his knife...

It was nearly dark by the time Daryl could see the walls of Hilltop ahead. Carol happened to be up on the guard platform when he returned, though Henry was absent. “Find anything?” she asked, surveying his expression as he came inside and the walls closed behind him. He was as stoic as always.

His hand went to the handle of his knife, replaced in its sheath. “Yes and no,” he drawled. Furrows appeared in Carol’s forehead. “Found my knife. But it was hangin’ up on this,” he said, holding up the arrow he still had clutched in his hand. “Stuck into a goddamn tree like somebody was waitin’ for me to come back for it.”

“That’s strange,” Carol murmured. She took the shaft and examined it, running a finger along the glossy black feathers at the end. Her eyes met Daryl’s, sharp and wary. Her expression was questioning. Daryl shrugged and shook his head. “I ain’t got a clue. I spent the whole day over there, crisscrossing the trails lookin’ for some sign of who was out there and all I was left with was this damn arrow. Not a boot print, not a broken twig, fuckin’ nothin’. ‘S’like it was left by a damn ghost.”

“Why would someone would pin it up for you to find again? Why wouldn’t they just keep it?” she questioned him, handing the arrow shaft back. Daryl shrugged.

“Dunno…” he murmured, twirling it in his hands. He looked around at the afternoon shadows crawling slowly over Hilltop and sighed. “How’re things? Henry?” he drawled, patting Dog’s head absently.

“He’s… doing okay,” she said, smiling. “I think it’s going to take him a little time to find his place here. But Alden and Earl have gotten him started.”

Daryl nodded. “Can’t be easy tryin’ to figure out bein’ ‘round other kids his age for the first time,” Daryl commented.

“No,” Carol said. “But I’m sure he’ll figure it out,” she added with a tight smile.

Daryl looked up as Jesus, Aaron, and Tara were suddenly making their way down the hill toward him and Carol with grim expressions.

“S’matter?” Daryl drawled, fiddling with his bandana absently as they came to a stop in front of him.

“Early this morning, Aaron and I found Rosita collapsed and exhausted out in the woods. She fired a flare. She and Eugene were working on something when walkers came up on them. Eugene’s hurt. She said she left him in a barn and was trying to get here for help. She’s in the infirmary,” Jesus explained.

“Eugene is still out there,” Aaron said, looking at Daryl. “We could really use your tracking skills. I don’t want to risk him spending another night out there.”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. ‘Course.” And the three of them, Daryl, Aaron, and Jesus (and Dog) prepared to head out and search for Eugene.

They headed back toward where Aaron and Jesus had found Rosita and Daryl realized it wasn’t far from where he’d shot the deer and forgotten his knife. He pondered this, but didn’t say anything to Jesus or Aaron. He did, however, continue scrutinizing the ground closely for any sign or Eugene or anyone else.

They came to the edge of a large field and Daryl stopped dead. “What the hell?” he drawled. Aaron and Jesus stopped beside him, squinting at a herd in the field moving in concentric circles.

“Have—have either of you ever seen walkers do that before?” Jesus asked. Both Aaron and Daryl shook their heads.

“Never,” Daryl said, his gaze sharp as he studied the swirling horde. “C’mon. We ain’t got long before dark.” He led the way again with Dog out slightly in front. Moving through the woods as silently as possible, Daryl knew they were now very close to where he’d shot the deer. The hair on the back of his neck prickled again and he stopped as a gust of wind suddenly kicked up at their backs. “Stop,” he said suddenly, throwing up a hand. Jesus and Aaron stood still. “I can hear ‘em,” Daryl drawled. “On the wind.”

Straining their hearing, Jesus and Aaron heard the growls on the wind now too. “They’re following,” Aaron said, glancing back. Through the trees, wandering shapes could barely be seen. “Did they see us?” he asked.

Jesus stared at the incoming herd, suspicious and at a loss. “I don’t know. But we better keep moving.” Night had fallen by the time Daryl was able to trace Rosita’s trail back to the barn. They found Eugene huddled in the cellar. He was nearly incoherent, shaking and sweaty. “C’mon. We gotta go, Eugene,” Daryl insisted.

“Are you okay?” Aaron asked concernedly as soon as they had hauled him up from the hidden cellar.

“I took a bad step and dislocated my knee,” Eugene said, still shaking.

“Well, if it’s dislocated we can just pop it back in,” Daryl said, his brow furrowed.

“No. No, listen to me,” he argues, wiping sweat from his brow. “The herd that followed us here is on its way back.”

“I saw their tracks,” Daryl drawled, not understanding his frantic tone and his trembling. “They’re gone…”

“No. It’s not. It’s already been through here twice. It’s lookin’ for me,” he insisted. “Eugene—” Jesus started. “No! We have to get out of here before it comes back! This wasn’t a normal run-of-the-mill bunch of wandering dead,” he says in his Texas twang.

“What do you mean?” Aaron asked, wide-eyed and unsettled by Eugene’s behavior.

He lowered his voice. “When they passed us by, we could hear them—they were whispering to each other.”

Everyone exchanged confused and stunned glances. “You mean they were—talking?” Aaron asked.

Eugene was almost crying he was so frantic. “I know how it sounds! But Rosita heard it too. She’ll corroborate!”

Suddenly, Dog barked. The herd was back and inbound.

Daryl rushed to look out the window. “Shit,” he swore. “They’re gonna cut us off… Look, you two get him outta here. I’ll distract ‘em, lead em away so you can cover some ground. This dun make any damn sense,” Daryl said, pacing the length of the barn.

“They shouldn’t have doubled back like that and they definitely shouldn’t have followed us to the barn,” Jesus agree, shouldering Eugene’s weight with Aaron.

“It ain’t right,” Daryl agreed. “Alrigh’, go. Go! I’ll lead ‘em off. Go! C’mon boy!” Dog rushed after Daryl as the other three made their way slowly in the opposite direction.

Daryl and Dog pounded the pavement as fast as they could until they reached a dilapidated trailer house on the side of the road, not too far from the fork where he’d separated from the others. Daryl hurriedly heaved himself up on the top and withdrew some firecrackers from his bag, flicking his lighter, and lighting the fuse. He tossed them out onto the pavement and they soon were popping and banging with a burst of sound that echoed up and down the lonely road. Dog barked at the herd in the distance and Daryl watched as some of the walkers began to turn toward him and away from the direction of Eugene, Aaron, and Jesus. “Keep ‘em comin’ boy,” he called down to Dog, squinting in the fog and darkness.

All was as it should be at first; the walkers were following the sound. And then suddenly, they weren’t. The ones who had veered off were suddenly pulled back the way they had come as if drawn by some magnetic force correcting their course again. Daryl couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He hurriedly hushed Dog and stared, bewildered and desperate as the horde continued in the direction of his friends.

“Shit,” he muttered. “Shit!”

Daryl hurriedly slung himself over the edge, hung from the edge and then dropped down onto the ground. Dog ran up beside him. Huddled in the grass, he wondered frantically what to do. He had to get to the others—they wouldn’t know what was coming until it was too late. But how?

“Fuck it,” Daryl muttered, straightening up and dashing across the road into the brush on the other side. He followed parallel to the walkers, trying to get ahead of them so he could reach the others, but it was hard as they walked on the old highway and he had to scramble through windfalls and brambles, Dog bouncing in front of him. He found the path of least resistance suddenly cutting closer and closer to the road and the horde.

Overhead, lightning flashed and thunder rolled. Daryl ducked low in the shadows, eyeing the progress of the walkers, constantly trying to pass them and stay hidden. Soon the developing fog was closing in around him and he could barely see ten feet. Suddenly, Dog let out a low growl and Daryl froze, sensing some mass behind him. His hand twitched to his knife and he withdrew it. He spun and was face to face with a lunging walker, its hands raised and slashing like claws. He struck with his knife and it dropped. Daryl stumbled backward and swung his bow off his shoulder as his back hit the trunk of a large tree. He fired a bolt as another figure emerged from the fog reaching for him. Dog leapt and attacked as another walker stumbled forward. Daryl readied his knife again. They were closing in. He was hemmed in on all sides, the tree at his back, and as he stood, trying to prepare himself, panic threatening to drown him as he faced the certainty of his own death, he did hear the whispers.

Kill. Kill him. Kill. Tear. Rip him apart. Kill.

“Dog! Here! Get back!” Daryl yelled, waiting for the next of the circle of walkers around him to lunge. He watched with confusion as a huge walking, lumbering toward him, was struck by an arrow, seemingly rained down from above. It fell with weight in front of him, tripping up another. Then Daryl was suddenly struck hard on the head by something which then tumbled down over his shoulder.

Distracted, he looked to see a rough-looking rope ladder with wooden steps cascading beside him from out of the tree. Another walker jolted forward, snarling, and Dog clamped down on its head and didn’t stop biting until it lay still. Daryl kicked another back to keep it off Dog. He craned his neck to look up the ladder, up into the huge old oak tree, but he could see nothing high up in the darkness and haze of the fog. There was a sudden moan and snarl and Daryl found himself holding off a walker at arm’s length, grappling with it to keep its snapping jaws away from his neck. There was a sharp swish and a rush of air and the walker he was fighting went suddenly still, an arrow buried in its face. Daryl had half a moment to note that the fletching was black as midnight before it fell at his feet.

More of the dead pressed in. He stabbed two more and another arrow from above pierced the head of a third. He glanced back up at the tree and the dangling ladder. Did he have a choice? He looked back at the circle of walkers pressing ever more closely in. Another couple began to stagger forward. Dog barked frantically, facing them bravely, trying to protect Daryl. No choice. He had no choice. “Dog! C’mon! Up! Get up!” He seized the bottom of the ladder and pulled it slightly out, using all his weight to hold it taught as Dog let out a nervous bark and then ran up it like a ramp at full speed, scrambling a little against the trunk and more vertical steps near the top but finally disappearing into the darkness under the eaves of the tree. Daryl heaved out a final breath, slung his bow across his back and scrambled up after him. He felt fingertips on his ankle and kicked hard to free himself but the grip was strong. Another rush of air and the sharp sound of a passing arrow and the grip disappeared.

He climbed, heart racing, until he arrived at a surprisingly large wooden platform, built in among the thick branches. He spilled onto it and lay flat on his back, trying to catch his breath. Dog surged forward, anxious paws tapping, and licked his face.

Daryl startled as a dark figure moved beside him and quickly heaved the rope ladder up, rolling it into a neat coil and dropping it onto the platform before retreating again to the other side to lean back against a particularly large offshoot of the tree trunk. Daryl hurriedly rolled over and sat up on his knees, squinting into the darkness. Below, the growls and snarls seemed even louder and he could still hear the faintest rustle and hush of whispers woven in among them.

Dog circled and sat beside Daryl, peering with interest at the dark-clad figure. Daryl waited with bated breath for a long time to see if they would speak. They didn’t.

They were set back in shadow and he couldn’t make out much about them at all until lightning burst overhead again and he could barely see that they had on a sort of dark cloak with a hood and clutched a bow in one hand.

There was an increasing roar of crackling and rustling all around him and Daryl realized that it had started raining, but he felt no drops falling on him. Looking upwards, he saw with the next burst of lightning that there was another platform above him. He glanced back down at the figure. They were still unmoving. He watched as they set their bow aside and then raised their hands and pushed back their hood. Another fork of lightning lit the sky.

He gulped. His heart did a strange lurch in his chest. He was staring at you, and you were staring back at him. He was at a loss for anything to say. Below, the growls and snarls went on and on…

You were studying him carefully, your eyes narrowed, lips parted a little and slightly pursed.

He attempted to clear his throat, but it felt tight all of a sudden. “‘M Daryl,” he said, having to nearly yell over the torrent of rain and continued rolling booms of thunder.

You reached for your bow again, not taking your eyes off him.

“I—I think ya just saved my life. And Dog’s too. Well—I know ya did,” he said lamely, trailing off.

Instead of responding, he watched as you slung your bow on one shoulder and then turned and started to climb up the large vertical branch you’d been standing in front of with an agility and speed that was astonishing.

“Wait—hey!” he called after you.

But the tail of your dark cloak was already licking around the platform above and you were gone. Dog trotted over to where you’d been, sniffing and then looking up the branch. He let out a low whine and wagged his tail.

“What the fuck?” Daryl muttered, climbing to his feet and going to stand where you’d been. He examined the tree trunk, half-expecting to find steps or footholds drilled in that allowed you to climb so swiftly but there was nothing but the rough bark of the tree. He ran his fingers over it. He couldn’t imagine how you’d gotten a hold. Another bright burst of lightning shot through the sky and a loud boom of thunder rolled. Daryl backed away from the edge and sank down in the middle of the platform beside his pack and crossbow. He hauled his bow onto his lap, set another bolt in the flight groove, and drew it back so it was ready to fire in a hurry if needed. There he sat, rigid, staring into the darkness around him, Dog at his side.

His heart sank as he thought of Jesus, Aaron, and Eugene. He hoped they were safe. What a massive fucking misadventure this had been. But as he sat clutching his bow, wondering who the fuck you were, why the fuck you’d helped him, where the fuck you’d gone now (up the tree?), his mind did continually wander back to the whispering... He’d heard it. Exactly as Eugene had said. And the herd had behaved unlike any other he’d ever seen. They’d doubled back. They’d ignored the lights and sounds of the firecrackers. They’d rerouted. They seemed to move with purpose. They didn’t just wander. He didn’t know what it meant, why it occurred, but it was terrifying. _ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl awoke with a start when Dog let out a soft woof and he shot upright, grappling for his bow. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, especially being twenty-five feet in the air, but he had finally succumbed to exhaustion when the storm had passed in the wee hours of the morning. His back was stiff and tight from sleeping on the hard wood and he attempted to stretch to relieve the worst of it but was far too aware of you staring at him.

Now, he was looking back at you in the light of morning where you’d just climbed down on another ladder from the upper platform. This ladder passed through a hole in the platform above and he again remembered how skillfully you’d ascended without it the night before.

You were still dressed in mostly black, but the cloak and hood you’d worn during the night were gone. Along with your bow and a quiver full of arrows, there was a small bag slung across your body and you knelt and slipped it off. You flipped it open and pulled out a thermos and a chunk of crusty bread. You thrust them toward him and he eyed them somewhat warily. You finally just set them down and then stood, shifting your bow and quiver to the side, and leaning back against the tree trunk in the same way you had the night before. You crossed your arms over your chest and surveyed him.

Your eyes were bright and the colors seemed to flash in the morning sun. Daryl gulped and then cautiously reached for the bread and thermos. He unscrewed the top and sniffed its contents. Steam rose up and it was accompanied by an earthy and slightly sweet smell. Hot tea. Tea… in a tree? He was baffled. Did you have a fire up there somewhere? A stove? What the fuck? he thought for the hundredth time in a day’s time.

He looked up at you again and set the thermos aside. His eyes flickered down to your quiver. The feathers of the fletching were all glossy black. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Ya found my knife the other day.” A long beat of silence. You were unreadable. “Why’d ya—hang it back up for me to find?” he asked. “Ya knew I’d come back lookin’?”

Still nothing.

“Were ya watchin’ me out here before?”

Silence.

He was getting slightly annoyed. “Christ, d’ya speak at all or—”

“Yes,” you said suddenly. “I do.”

Now, Daryl’s mouth was hanging partially open.

“But I’m not in the habit of speaking with strangers.”

“Well,” he straightened up a bit, clearing his throat, “’M Daryl. And this is Dog,” he said, ruffling the Malinois’ fur. He waited to see if you’d reciprocate the introduction but you merely shifted a little. Daryl chewed on his bottom lip nervously.

“How’d you get mixed up in that mess last night anyway?” you asked him. You couldn’t help studying his every little movement closely, watching for a microscopic flash that something was off, waiting for him to suddenly reveal himself to be something… dark. But you saw nothing like that. Not yet, anyway. But he was obviously strong, capable. Careful, you cautioned yourself mentally.

Daryl’s stomach turned as he thought again of Eugene and Aaron and Jesus. He scolded himself for not thinking of them until now after waking up. “S’kinda a long story,” he drawled. “I was tryin’ to lead ‘em away from somewhere. Guess it backfired.”

Your eyebrows lifted. “Lead them? Of course it went wrong,” you said, looking at him like that was the most obvious thing ever, or maybe more like he was a fucking idiot.

His brow furrowed low over his blue eyes. “What d’ya mean?”

“Well, the shepherds, obviously,” you said, deadpan.

“The—who?”

You straightened up, perplexed as you stared back at him. “The shepherds.” There was no understanding or recognition on his face. “Of the dead.”

Daryl only stared back at you, utterly confused.

You shook your head a little. “Couldn’t you hear them?” you asked him.

Finally, he nodded. “Ya mean the—the whisperin’?”

“Yes. It’s the shepherds,” you said again.

He still looked confused. You sighed and walked over the coiled ladder and nudged it off the edge with your foot. “Come down. I’ll show you.”

Daryl watched you slip down with ease and then glanced at Dog. “Stay, boy,” he said, and he followed more clumsily down the ladder behind you, feeling cautiously with his boots for the next step. He felt overly large and awkward behind you. When he planted his boots back on solid ground again, he was surprised to see the number of dead walkers lying at the base of the tree. You had shot more than he’d noticed the night before in all the chaos. Most had a thick arrow shaft capped with black feathers protruding from its head. You went about collecting your arrows. You paused at the last one and gave him a significant look before rolling it over with your boot so it was facedown. You bent and Daryl moved closer. “Here. See?” You pointed at the back of the head. At first, Daryl didn’t understand what he was supposed to be looking at. You withdrew a knife from your hip with a skillful movement and slipped the blade up the back of the head. It was as you did this that Daryl finally saw the lacing, like a shoelace, on the back of the head.

“What the hell?” he growled.

Once the lacing was cut, you gripped the scraggly hair on the top of the head and tugged. The whole head seemed to come off at first until he realized it was slipping off like a mask. You held it up with a disgusted look on your face for him to see.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he drawled. He turned the body back over and found himself looking at a person. Not one who had ever turned to the undead, but the very human-looking corpse of a person dead from your arrow the night before. He stood up, in slight shock.

You dropped the horrifying mask to the ground. “They wear skins, herd the dead. They walk with them. Control them,” you said. “The shepherds.”

“Why?” Daryl asked.

You didn’t answer, simply stared at him stony-faced, sheathed your knife, stuffed the arrows you’d collected back in your quiver, and climbed the ladder back up into the tree.

As a last thought, Daryl grabbed the mask and crammed it into the inside pocket in his vest. Then, he followed you back up.

Daryl found you sitting at the edge petting Dog when he pulled himself back onto the platform. The bread and thermos were still sitting there in the middle and his hunger reared its head. He grabbed the bread and sank down beside his pack and bow again.

“What d’ya know ‘bout these shepherds?” he asked you again. “These—Whisperers?”

Your eyes flickered up to his face and then back to Dog as you picked a burr out of his coat. “They almost killed you last night. What more do you need to know?”

“Alrigh’…” Daryl drawled, biting off another piece of bread. “Ya ain’t even gonna tell me yer name? Where ya came from?”

Your eyes snapped up to his face again. “You don’t owe me your backstory and I certainly don’t owe you mine,” you said. You stood abruptly as the croak of a raven sounded nearby. “You led that herd right to my tree—”

Daryl’s eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed. “Ain’t like I did that on purpose. I didn’t know somebody was livin’ in a fuckin’ tree—it coulda been any tree in a thousand.”

“But it wasn’t. And I saved your ass—”

Daryl was slightly incredulous. “Ya want another thank you? Or an apology?” he asked, standing.

Your hand reflexively strayed to your knife as he rose to his full height. “And now I’ll have to move—”

Daryl continued to stare at you, baffled. The raven croaked again nearby. “Why the hell did ya even save me and Dog?” he asked.

“Should I not have?” you retorted. Abruptly, you tore your eyes from his face. “I think it’s time you go. I’m sure your people are worried,” you said, patting Dog once more time.

“Hang on—how d’ya know I got people?” Daryl pressed you.

“You have people,” you said.

“Do you have people?” he asked.

You ignored his question. “I can fit a harness on your dog to lower him down,” you said.

“Forget it,” Daryl growled. He shoved what was left of the chunk of bread into his pack and slung it across his back. He shouldered his crossbow. “Thanks for breakfast. Dog. Shoulders, c’mon!”

Daryl bent his knees and Dog propelled himself onto Daryl’s shoulders and balanced there. Daryl was bowed slightly under the weight and you watched, somewhat amazed as he navigated the edge of the platform and climbed the ladder back down. You leaned over and watched Dog jump down. Daryl readied his crossbow in his hands, prepared to set out.

You couldn’t resist having the last word. “Daryl,” you called down. He looked up. “You didn’t thank me, technically, for saving your life.”

Daryl peered up, disbelieving. “Last night, I said—”

“You stated a fact, that I did,” you interrupted. “That isn’t a ‘thank you’.”

He swore under his breath. “Hey, what the hell is your problem?” he growled back.

And for the first time, Daryl saw you smile, and his stomach seemed to somersault in his midsection. Just then, a huge raven swooped in and perched on your shoulder, letting out a raspy noise as a greeting and ruffling its feathers as you scratched beneath its bill affectionately. “Bye, Daryl. Be careful of the shepherds. And I’ll ask that you just go and forget about me.” And with that, you disappeared, and the ladder behind him slowly began to raise as you reeled it back up.

Daryl had seen a lot of shit in his time since the world fell, but this? You? Some mysterious woman living in a tree with a fucking pet raven? What the fuck... This was something else entirely. Forget about you? Not fucking likely.

[crystalskiesandcherrywine]

The sound of the waves collide // Part Four

So it is time for the last part.... I still cannot believe that I managed to write something and look forward to post more

This chapter is very explicit - for my taste at least.

Song for the chapter - Alkaline by Sleeptoken

English is not my first language

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Na Baron Feyd Rautha x Atreides!Reader

shameless smut

FxM

All feedback is welcome <3

Part One // Part Two // Part Three

1.695 words

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The encounter with Feyd leaves you so shaken that, come morning, you avoid seeing anyone. It feels childish and less dignified, your mind circling around the memories of the evening like vultures. It's as if he doesn't even need to touch you to make you forget years of training and let your emotions get the best of you. And he visibly enjoys it, your pain and humiliation making it even more luxurious for him. Frustrated and unable to concentrate, you put Irulan's gift away and lie down in a lounge chair on the balcony overlooking the small garden. The sun's rays are softened by the huge trees and reflected in the pond below. Its crystal clear waters appear like a mirror - calm and serene, a painful contrast to your mental state. You close your eyes and try to ground yourself in the moment, repeating the mantra „I am alive in stillness“, but to no avail. The fever that has been ignited within you consumes your mind and body. Your hands seem to develop a life of their own and, as if guided by a puppet master, they find their way to the small band of your tunic. The warm air touches your skin and you close your eyes, letting your fingers slide over your breasts, caressing the nipples that instantly stiffen under your touch. Your hand continues to slide down as your eyes flutter shut. It is almost as if you are picking up where he left off. The heat concentrates under your fingers, and letting your intuition guide you, you move your fingers in circles, dipping in and out of your cunt. The orgasm is so intense that for a second you forget where you are. You can't stop yourself from moaning his name and you feel like coming up for air.

Two days later it is time to say goodbye. Your father kisses you on the forehead and your mother seems to think the same as you - "I will not fear". Letting go of Paul's embrace seems almost impossible, but when all is said and done, you make your way to the Baron's ship. His gigantic form floats in front of you, while your betrothed follows at the same level as you.

Even if he doesn't look at you, you can't help but feel his presence. Each step seems to be part of a well-orchestrated choreography and reminds you of a wild animal, ready to reveal its murderous nature at any moment. At the last glance, you turn your head to see your mothers signing "Good luck" to you with a small flick of her wrist. The connection to what was familiar is tethered and you are not sure of the tumultuous feeling your gut that the now empty space in your soul is son tobe filled with a new home. The change is almost tangible, as if when you pay close enough attention, it glow like a dark halo around you.

Once on the ship, you are left to your own devices. You can call upon servants at any time, but they seem to anticipate your wishes before you know them. Food and drink are brought to you, as well as an army of new clothes. Your favourite is the black dress with heavy beading around the bodice, covering your torso like a shield. Paired with a translucent black veil and a small gold chain around your neck, connected to your torso, it feels appropriate to take your first steps on the planet you will call home.

Your unease is heightened when, upon your arrival, neither Feyd nor the Baron are to be seen. A tall, slender man who introduces himself as Piter de Vries escorts you to the Feeds chambers. You immediately recognise the characteristic traces of spice in his eyes, the only thing that seems to have any colour in this world. Shielded from the harsh black sun, you reach Na Baron's quarters, only to find an army of monochrome grey, white and black surroundings. The palace seems to be the essence of the Harkonnens, with hard, clear lines, yet graceful and spacious.

"If you need anything, there are always two servants at the door," says Piter. The servants resemble guards, but you decide not to share this observation. Piter's eyes linger on the glass box with the fir tree. "Do you want to have a closer look?" You ask. "Only if you don't mind. I have never seen anything like it". "It was a parting gift from my father. On Caladan, fir trees grow as tall as these walls, more of them than you can count. You may take it with you if you promise to return it in one piece tomorrow." Pieter seems to understand your bid for connection and bows his head „I am indebted to you, Na Baroness“ Its the first time some one dresses you with your new title and you barely suppress a shiver. And as if the title was a spell, Feyd Rautha appears in the doorway. Piter bows and leaves at once, holding the precious piece of your home in his hands. He moves so siletly, that you begin to wonder if the planet is not only devoid of color but also of sound. Blood seems to rush to your cheeks as you meet Feyd's gaze. "Is everything to your satisfaction?" His voice echoes. "Yes, thank you, Baron." His arms are behind his back and before you realise why, you see droplets of thick, almost black liquid collecting on the floor behind him. Slowly he unclasps his hands, drops to one knee and holds out a slim silver knife to you, covered in more of the same substance. "Is… is it blood?" You don't know why you question it. "Yes, it is. Please accept this as a token of my devotion to you. It is…" his blue eyes find yours, "the proof that my body will be yours alone. No other being shall touch it."

"Your pets…" you feel almost dizzy as the understanding dawns on you.

"No more pets," he says, still on his knee.

You slowly take the knife and place it on the white table beside you. Some of the blood gets on your wrist. He grabs it and licks it off. While a part of your brain screams that you should be afraid, your body seems to find the spark he struck on Kaitain again. His tongue flicks across the sensitive skin as he rises and begins to undo the buttons on your shoulders, the need to touch him overwhelming you and you reach out with your palm to his cheek. He leans into your touch with more tenderness than you ever expected. But as soon as your dress falls to the floor, pure hunger returns to his eyes. He presses into you and you feel as if your insides have melted on the spot. You try to feel his length through the fabric of his tunic. „So needy, Na Baroness?“ He purrs, enjoying the dominance he has over you. With a swimming motion, he pushes you onto the bed, holding your arms above your head. His tongue descends to your collarbone, moving deeper as he takes one breast in his mouth, sucking the tender flesh. You moan under him, already feeling washed away from any security of a shore into a whirl of need. His tongue continues to drive you mad as he bites you, the pain searing and glorious at the same time. Your hand reaches for him again, but he holds your wrists down as his tongue continues to run between your legs. He looks up at you, and it is the last thing to break the tiny shreds of your resolve. But he doesn't let you go, his tongue still swirling between your folds, drinking in your sweetness. Suddenly your hands are connected and a split second later you realise why: he uses his left hand, with slender, graceful fingers, to push your thighs further apart. You feel wanton and still needy, and as one of his finders curls inside you, you moan his name. "Feyd, Feyd, Feyd." Your own voice seems alien to you, high-pitched and desperate.

"My Na Baroness seems to want more," he smiles devilishly and inserts two more fingers at once. You whimper and throw your head back into the pillows. It feels like the stars are exploding behind you and feel the second orgasm coming as he stops and pulls away from you. You can barely hold back a frustrated squeal. Your body feels hot, the only antidote to this madness his skin on yours. You try to concentrate on his form, seeing him remove his tonic first, then his trousers, leaving nothing to the imagination. His body is pure perfection, not a mark on his porcelain skin, he kneels on the bed again and moves towards you. The tip of his shaft is already pink and covered with pearls of pre-cum. It touches your clit lightly as it settles between your legs. "You'll have to learn to control yourself. So responsive to my touch, so desperate…" he hisses as the black of his pupils replaces the blue, making them almost invisible. His tip touches your entrance and then disappears completely inside you. You feel torn apart and put together at the same time, pain and pleasure mixed into something new, a delicious cocktail of discovery that leaves you drunk and breathless. You want to close your eyes, but he says "Look at me" you hear him murmur and you are lost again. With every movement of his hips, your whole being seems to refragment and reassemble like a kaleidoscope. Your walls convulse around him, his name like a sacred chant. Your nails dig into his back and he lets himself fall, speeding up and thrusting into you with even more abandon. You feel his use of you, your name on his lips. For a few seconds you are speechless, your shallow breaths filling the room. He holds your hips as he lies down behind you, still inside you to the hilt. „Welcome to being my wife, dear Na Baroness“

[kingprinceleo]

Vampire Au Master-ish Post

Summary -

Angel Island is the only life Sonic has ever known. Being trapped within the permanent barrier encasing the 8 islands isnt quite his style, so finding a way to destroy it and explore the world below has been his goal for as long as he can remember. Hes got a number of other things keeping him occupied however, trying to prevent the Robotnik family from taking over total control of the islands. 

When he isnt fighting them off, hes hanging out with his friends, living his best life being a vampire both day and night. When he wants to get everyone off his back, and feed from his favorite vampire hater, Shadow, he uses his magic staff to change his appearance into an alter ego, Hoax the "Tenrec.”

–

Vampire au is a generally slice of life episodic style au, mostly focused on being lighthearted and goofy. 

Occasionally plot driven with slightly heavier themes though. (And sometimes I hit the angst button for funsies)

Major Locations-

Angel Island- One main island and 7 smaller islands surrounding it, completely encased by an impenetrable barrier powered by the chaos emeralds. Separated into the Wild Zones and City Zones. 

City Zones are Geralds surveillance state, a massive sprawling city with high tech from Ivo. The second sector of the city, a bit farther out, is Ivos sandbox, filled with casinos and terrible attractions, and many of his bases. Both plan to expand further into the island, they beef a little over who gets what. 

Wild Zones are less developed areas further away from their reach, more community based overgrown homes. Left to nature and the recovery from old ruins. Sonic protects these areas with his life.

Sol- A pocket dimension, a society of majority vampires and mobians living peacefully together. The kingdom of Sol is a deep cave underground, with strange lush vegetation and ceiling so high it mimics the sky. There's massive tree roots buried deep in the canyon, an important food source for the vampires. 

Accessed by a closed gateway hidden deep within Angel Island. Sol is the origin of vampires.

The mainland- the rest of the world outside of Angel Island 

Characters-

Sonic- Bitten by a vampiric Chao around 5 years old, Sonic is a free spirited vampire who likes to live life a day at a time. He's thinks of himself as a smooth charmer, and he's a bit of a dater.

He loves the thrill of any sort of adventure he can dig his claws into on Angel Island, mostly stopping Eggman's onslaught of bots from trying to turn the untouched wild areas of the island into his newest casino. 

He's up both day and night, usually only crashing to take naps, or otherwise being forced to sleep by his friends. Though the sun hurts him, he finds himself always missing the days where he could soak in its rays.

Hoax, Sonics night form, is a purely cosmetic change he shifts into with his star staff, a gift from Amy. He uses it for days when he wants a break from people trying to Get Him 24/7. He used to use it to break into Eggman's bases, where a strange, but tasty artificial blood was being held. More recently it's become a way to secure drinking that blood from the host himself.

Shadow- Shadow is a paranoid mess of a man, with a deep running hatred for vampires, decked out in silver to keep them away. Though he prefers to be left alone, he will take any and all opportunities to kill a vampire if he suspects they want anything to do with him. It is often misguided. During the evening he works as a cook under Knuckles. During the night he heists the Robotniks facilities with Rouge, looking for any goods. 

Whenever he travels out to the city zones, he wears a mask and full outfit designed after a vulture to hide his identity since he's wanted by the city. 

Shadow has a special blood type, artificially made and containing black arms blood, it has strengthening and healing properties and tastes good to vampires ! Shadow tries to protect himself and his blood at all costs. Unfortunately he made a deal with Hoax to feed him. Also has no idea he has chaos control, the power is dormant in his body. Though he can manipulate the energy from Chaos Drives a little bit. He relies on guns and knifes day to day.

Amy- A half vampire seedrian witch. She's full of life and a bit quirky. She is learning to incorporate magic into all aspects of her life. A lot of attempts tend to cause chaos but she's always learning something new! She has a little bit of a crush on Sonic and has always dreamed of proposing to him with a ring that would protect him from the sun, though she isn't skilled enough to create it yet. Being a seedrian vampire means the flowers on her head need to photosynthesize under the moonlight to eat rather than drink blood. Though she does have a deep and instinctual urge to kill plants.

Tails- a lonely engineer, working on the edge of the city. New to teenagehood, he's edgy and grumpy all the time. He's very distant from his friends, incredibly insistent he's all grown up and needs no one but himself. 

Knuckles- a hard working farmer out in the wilds, using his produce to supply his pizza food truck, which recently upgraded to a brick and mortar restaurant. In his free time he goes around Angel Island to treasure hunt and learn about the history of the island, littered with many ruins of ages past. 

Rouge- a sneaky vampire who lives off the grid, completely unknown to the surveillance state of the city. Shadow lives with her in her home carved inside of a mountain to hide both of them. Huge fan of bat and blood themed decor. Shadow does Not know she's a vampire. Vampirism enhanced her bat features, incredibly good hearing to the point she needs to constantly wear noise canceling earbuds, and a massive wingspan.

She likes to rob the city, and exchange those goods for information from her shady dealers about gemstone hotspots on the island. Eventually she smooth talks her way into a position of power working under Queen Blaze of Sol to spy on Gerald.

Blaze- Queen of the pocket dimension Sol. A few gateways exist on Mobius, one residing on Angel Island, though it has been cut off for years until Rouge reactivated it. A cold but caring ruler, she controls the artificial sun in their kingdom, keeping all of her vampiric subjects safe and happy. Rarely ever makes time for herself. 

Silver- Blazes best friend who lives with her in the castle. (Need to add more for him :(). Works with Rouge and Mephiles dealing with matters on Angel Island. Eventually gets shark teeth from fusing with Mephiles too often.

Mephiles - Blazes comically evil advisor, she keeps him around because he's an old family friend, and an Ancient Vampire with vast power. Has no mouth to drink blood with, so he needs to possess the bodies of others. Silver willingly lets mephiles fuse with him, to feed, and to grant silver a power boost.

Gerald- after losing Maria he became very unwell, spending years accumulating power and taking control of the city. He's lost himself. Shadow was stolen from him years ago. He's still looking for him.

Black Doom- Doom wed that old man. Visited the day the barrier went up, now he's stuck here. Now that he's no longer able to take over the galaxy, his next evil plan was to become a landlord. Terrorizing people who live in the city. 

Maria- Died in a targeted mob attack on Angel Island, Chaos and Tikal pitied her and let her have a spot in the master emerald ghost club. 

Random lil plot stuff- 

Sonic is a regular at Knuckles pizza place, likes to be annoying. One day they Will make him a chili dog pizza. Knuckles hopes he explodes but Shadow actually wants to kill him. He's not allowed to jump Sonic on the clock or else his pay gets docked </3

Random little bits about Sonic trying to steal from the claw machine and getting stuck, and trying to get a “delivered in under 30 minutes or free” pizza from the restaurant.

Sonic started a trend of extreme gear racing in Hydro City. He can also do a bunch of little party tricks with his star staff and knows nothing useful.

Shadow has massive gaps in his memory due to repression, he barely knows anything about his life before 16 (present day he's 19).

Knuckles and Shadow are close, knuckles being the first to find him. Since Shadow can't buy anything under his own name, Knuckles got him a hover motorcycle for deliveries.

When Shadow tells Knuckles about his deal with Hoax for the first time, Knuckles punches hoax so hard it turns him back into Sonic, making Knuckles the first to learn his identity outside of Amy, who helped him create the form.

Amy likes to follow Sonic on dates sometimes and mildly inconveniences them with her magic. Sonic usually finds this game more fun than the actual date

Maria and Tikal haunt the pizza place. They can eat pizza . They crave it. They also feed it to Chaos. Maria tries to talk to Shadow but he doesn't know who she is.

When making the blood deal with Shadow, Hoax had no idea Shadow was the guy under the vulture mask. He would have thought twice if he knew. Shadow also cut Hoaxs right hand during their first fight, its a permanent scar. Shadow says hed do it again.

Hoax slowly realizes how deeply unwell this little freak is. 

Right when they kinda start getting comfortable with each other, a weird artifact that knuckles finds allows them a glimpse into the future. Sonic and Shadow are married. Hoax has to play it cool while Shadow starts loading his guns. This haunts the rest of their relationship development.

Amy delves into dark magic when she starts getting desperate about how slow she's progressing with her magic skill. It has adverse effects on beings created by her magic once she goes too far.

Mephiles lives in a comically evil wizard tower in the Sol castle. Mephiles can also shapeshift after drinking peoples blood, he can only shift as long as the blood is in his system.

Silver really wants Shadow to explode for trying to kill vampires, his friends and family.

(Things are still in rework state and also im forgetting things rn so more will probably be added)

[mando-fando]

The Other Man Pt. 2

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Wife!Reader

Words: 2.8k

Interdimensional travel is a tricky thing. Miguel discovered that when he was working the bugs out in his gadgets and researching everything he could about alternate universes.

The first anomaly appeared in Peter B Parker’s universe. It was long before the Spider Society existed. Just a 50’s style, cartoon Vulture that popped up in the middle of Peter B’s NYC. Miguel followed the Vulture and found himself with some assistance in returning the flapping bird to where he belonged.

Peter and Miguel hit it off right away. Soon, Peter B had his own watch and access to Lyla’s vast database. Miguel and Peter still didn’t know the extent of the damage that Kingpin’s collider had done to the multiverse; they were simply playing it by ear.

He stumbled across you almost accidentally. In your universe, Peter Parker was still a kid, a few years out from getting bitten by his spider. For the time being, your universe was relatively normal. So, Miguel didn’t really have a reason to watch you, your husband, and your daughter.

Overnight, it seemed, your lives were always playing in the background on his monitor. He watched you and became obsessed with the normalcy of it all. He took solace in knowing that there was a universe out there where a different Miguel woke up every day and did everything right.

Your universe became essentially a control group for Miguel. He began developing algorithms to predict when the next anomaly would show up, using your universe to feed the algorithm data.

He would have the algorithm predict what you’d make for dinner on a random day, what your husband would do at Alchemax, and what questions your daughter would ask in class.

After a few months, it was spot on.

He knew your family’s routine like the back of his hand, but he could never look back on your past. He could only watch what was happening in the present, and use the algorithm that he and Lyla developed to predict your future. Miguel only had educated guesses about where you and your husband met, how long you’d been together, and the idiosyncrasies of your family life.

One day, as he was watching you cook breakfast for your daughter, the computer alerted him to an unusual event that was set to follow the next day: your husband’s death. A panic went through Miguel for you and your daughter. Your life was perfect, there was no way that something so catastrophic could happen to you. He tweaked the model, assuring himself that there was a problem with the coding.

Time and time again, your husband’s death was predicted. He looked over at you and Gabriella on his monitor, and his heart sank. You two were going to undergo such a tragedy, and there was nothing he could do.

An irrational thought crossed Miguel’s mind. He studied your husband’s likeness, his clothes, his mannerisms for months. He could…could he?

Should he?

The next day, he donned a white, collared sweatshirt and some slacks, the same thing your husband put on before heading to work. Miguel watched all three monitors like a hawk: you, your husband, and your daughter’s respective daily routines.

Night fell, and he watched your husband divert from his usual commute home to head to a panaderia in a sketchy part of town. He was getting some pan dulce for his daughter’s breakfast after hearing that she aced another spelling test.

It happened in an instant. A woman screamed, your husband’s sense of justice kicked in. Moments later, he lay in a pool of his own blood. A tie had been severed.

Miguel portaled in, almost without a second thought. He methodically emptied your husband’s pockets and donned his wedding band. A few hours later, Miguel walked in your front door as if nothing had happened. You jumped into his arms, and he felt himself fall for you in a heartbeat.

Guilt had wracked his brain every day since. He knew you were suspicious. He’d seen you watching him out of the corner of your eye. He saw the way you narrowed your eyes at him.

You started becoming cold towards him. You were less affectionate, less interested in his touch or kind words. Even if you couldn’t put your finger on it, you knew there was something amiss.

You were smart. You claimed that science wasn’t your strong suit, but Miguel saw you catch on to complicated subjects quickly when you helped Gabi with her homework or asked him about his day at work. A part of him thought that you might understand if he explained that he was from another dimension.

Today, you were being particularly cold towards him. You’d taken Gabi to your parents’ house for a weekend camping trip, and you were in the kitchen. It almost seemed like you were trying to find something to do so Miguel wouldn’t bother you.

The emotions he felt about the whole situation were so complex; he didn’t know how you’d react, and he couldn’t blame you. He’d stolen your husband’s life, essentially. Would you care that he only did it to save you and your daughter from devastation? Would you be able to love him the way he loved you?

Miguel walked into the kitchen and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. You wrenched your body away from his grasp. “Don’t touch me.”

Miguel took a step back and put his hands up defensively. “Amor, I want to talk to you about something.”

You whipped around with an irate expression. “Do you finally have an explanation for how insane you’ve been acting?”

“I… I do, actually.” Miguel watched you lean your back against the counter and cross your arms. “It’s going to sound outlandish.”

“You could tell me that you’ve been abducted by fucking aliens, and I’d believe you. I’m sick of not knowing what’s going on with you!” You raised your voice at him.

“Okay. Before I begin, I want you to know that I didn’t do anything with malicious intent. The complete opposite, actually.” He tried to gauge your reaction and carried on. “I’m not the Miguel

O’Hara you married, but I think a part of you knows that already…”

You eyed him suspiciously, but kept silent.

“I’m from a different dimension. I was born in a city called Nueva York. I was a geneticist, just like your husband. But, when I was in my late 20s, I had an accident at Alchemax which changed the nature of my DNA. In my dimension, I’m a hero named Spiderman.”

You were surprisingly calm. You looked at him with a skeptical expression, but you wanted to hear more. You needed an explanation, any explanation, of what the hell was going on. You were pregnant, and that was all the proof you needed that you’d been sharing your bed with someone else.

“Why are you called ‘Spiderman?’” You asked.

Miguel continued to search your expression for fear or incredulousness. “The genetic sequence that my DNA was spliced with was half spider.”

A disgusted look flashed across your face.

“In my universe, there were quantum theorists and physicists who were on the verge of interdimensional travel. I took the research that they did and combined it with my own knowledge of biomechanics and created this,” Miguel pulled up his sleeve and showed you the bulky contraption on his wrist.

“As far as I know, I’m the first person to ever make an autonomous jump to another dimension. Once I had been to a few different universes, I started to research and document the differences. That’s when I stumbled across your family.

“I enjoyed knowing there was a version of myself out there that was happy. My life in my dimension was pretty miserable sometimes, but things were a little easier to swallow knowing that I was capable of humanity somewhere in the multiverse. I wanted your family to have the perfect life that you deserve.” He paused and looked away for a moment.

“There was a prediction from my model that your husband was going to die.”

Your eyebrows shot up in concern. “What?”

Miguel sighed, knowing how badly you were going to take the news. “He was going to get pan dulce across town after work. A woman was getting mugged, and he intervened. It cost him his life…”

You felt your heart break in your chest as you gasped. Suddenly, your legs collapsed from beneath you. Miguel caught you before you hit the floor.

Your husband. Your darling, lovely perfect husband was gone, and some monster had taken his place.

You couldn’t see past the tears that flooded your vision, and you couldn’t help yourself from pressing your face in the chest of the man who looked just like him.

“I know…” Miguel caressed your hair. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

Your love story had come to an end. Every shared glance, every evening doting over your daughter, every morning tangled in the sheets was gone. The pain was unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

Miguel carried your sobbing, screaming figure to the bed. He laid next to you as a tear slid down his own cheek. The screams that emanated from you were haunting; he still heard them in his nightmares to this day.

You wore yourself out so profoundly that you simply lost consciousness. Miguel’s mind swirled with doubt and guilt. He thought back to the moments he’d witnessed on his monitor between the two of you. He was never able to find a flaw in either of you, nor your daughter. Now, he’d thrown a huge wrench in everything. Maybe he’d made a mistake in taking your husband’s place.

You stirred in bed next to him a few hours later. Your face was puffy and your voice was hoarse, but you looked at him with rage. You leapt out of bed before Miguel was fully awake. Instinctually, he activated his suit. His talons and claws shone under the digital fabric.

You screamed again in fear and confusion. Miguel deactivated the suit, returning to the normal clothes he was wearing.

You slid down the wall, cradling your knees. Fear, exhaustion, confusion, and heartbreak clouded your mind.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you!” Miguel looked panicked. He took a step towards you cautiously.

“Why did you come here!?” You screamed at him.

“I- I don’t know. I couldn’t handle the idea of Gabriella being without a father.”

“You’re NOT her father!” You stood up and took a step towards him.

“I know…”

“I’m pregnant.” The words spilled from your mouth before you had a chance to think. “That’s how I knew. That you’re not him, I mean.” You were rambling. “My husband had a vasectomy. When the test came back positive, I had proof…”

A wave of nausea hit you as you realized the man you slept with wasn’t your husband. You ran to the bathroom and Miguel followed.

He was speechless. He held your hair back as you gripped the sides of the toilet, and he rubbed your back as his mind raced.

He was thrust into uncharted territory. How would a baby with parents from two different dimensions fare? How would you fare? He couldn’t even begin to comprehend the ramifications of his stupid actions.

Miguel had seen you and your husband’s intimate moments before. He had always wondered why Gabi never had a sibling, but he made the assumption that you had some sort of contraceptive. The idea that your husband had a vasectomy never even crossed his mind.

You sat up from the toilet and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Miguel stood up quickly to grab you a washcloth.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” You asked as your chest heaved. You could feel a migraine beginning to set in.

“I need to go back to my lab and run some tests.” The lack of emotion in his voice cut you.

You remembered your husband’s reaction to your first pregnancy, how he lit up so brightly at the news. To the man in front of you, your pregnancy seemed to be a liability and nothing more.

You glared at him as you took the washcloth. You pressed it to your forehead. A long moment of silence passed.

He reached out slowly and touched your cheek. “I’m sorry…”

“People die all the time, you know.” You said flatly. “You make it sound like my husband’s death was predetermined. If that’s what fate had in store for him, and for us, then that’s the way it was meant to be…”

You stood up and looked at yourself in the mirror. Miguel stood, too, and watched you. “Gabi and I would’ve figured it out. We would’ve gotten through it together.”

“I know you would’ve. You’re an incredible mother.” You watched him stare at you in the reflection. He was looking at you with sympathy and love. You felt your heart flutter. Guilt followed immediately after. The rollercoaster of emotions was exhausting.

“Go figure out what the fuck is going to happen to me.” You turned to look at him. “We need to know sooner rather than later. I could use some space from you, too. I’m still upset.” You crossed your arms and looked away from him.

He took your comments in stride and gave you another look of sympathy. He activated his suit and tapped away at the device on his wrist.

You covered your ears as a loud mess of colors and lights tore a hole open in your room. Miguel was gone in an instant.

Miguel tore through the portal and stepped into his lab in the building that would eventually become the Spider Society.

“Lyla,” he called as he walked over to his computer.

“Look who’s back? How’s married life treatin’ ya?” She asked sarcastically.

“Contact Peter and prepare the lab. We need to run some tests.”

Hours later, Miguel and Peter were driving themselves mad trying to find a circumstance where tissue from two different dimensions remained stable. The results were grim, time after time.

“Miguel, this is-” Peter began.

“Don’t even say it.” Miguel growled. Peter had never heard him take that tone before.

Every possible multi-dimensional combination ended in decay.

The facts stared back at Miguel, and he had to face reality. He pinched the bridge of his nose when his computer alerted him to an anomaly in your universe. Then, another. And another.

Hundreds of bizarre events were occuring in your universe. The tides stopped, gravity changed, and worst of all, things and people all over the world were glitching.

A massive hole opened underneath your version of Brooklyn.

Miguel and Peter suited up and ran in.

“Go find your wife and daughter, I’ll see what I can find out!” Peter called. Miguel nodded and ran at a breakneck speed towards your home.

He found you on the ground, half concious.

“Amor,” he called. He held you in his arms, and he knew he was too late.

“Miguel,” you tried to smile, but you glitched in his arms and groaned out in pain.

He picked you up and began to run towards the campground where Gabi was.

It felt like every cell of your body was on fire. You stared up at him, and a part of you knew that he had something to do with your universe tearing at the seams. Slowly, you were slipping out of his grasp like sand.

Miguel kept his gaze trained on you. He had no idea how he was going to fix this.

“Find her. Save her.” Those were your last words. Miguel blinked and you were gone.

Shock overcame him. He found himself on all fours hurdling towards your daughter. He heard her in the distance, and swooped her up before swinging the opposite way.

He saw Peter in the distance and ran from the white emptiness that began consuming the city.

If he could save Gabriella, it might have been worth it.

He ran, pushing his superspeed to the limit as Gabi screamed in his arms.

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” He tried to reassure her as he tucked her into his chest. He saw people in front of him simply vanish, and fear gripped his heart like a vice.

If he could get away from the crowd for just a minute, he could portal away with your daughter.

He continued running, seeing an opening in the distance.

“Papa!” Gabi cried. He looked down, and she was gone. He stopped dead in his tracks. To him, there was nothing left worth saving. The whiteness enveloped him, and soon, Miguel and Peter stood in a vast, empty nothing.

“Miguel, we have to go. We don’t know what’s going to happen.” Peter tugged on his arm.

The words fell on deaf ears. Miguel was still staring down at his empty grasp, wondering where his daughter had gone.

Peter dragged him through the portal.

Time was a blur for awhile after that. Lyla analyzed every scrap of data, Peter recruited more spider-people, and the canon was discovered.

Miguel swore to never let it happen again.

[ghostlynachopanda]

Like a charm

a/n: in honor of demon slayer AND aot coming out on Friday I wrote this. I think it sucks but I wrote it at 4am. I didn't read over it or anything so tell me if it's good or if it sucks. thanks, pals, here's this one.

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

words: 2.1k

~~~

Enid learned, pretty quick, the best way to get Wednesday out of a foul mood was by getting you. You worked like a charm, pulling her out of any and all bad moods she might be in. Enid didn't waste time in telling almost everyone Wednesday came in contact with, aiming to keep heads on people's shoulders. The amount of times you've been dragged to a murderous Wednesday is laughable. Well, it would be if it wasn't as effective as it actually is.

Wednesday is vexed, furious, miffed. Everything and everyone is testing her patience today. Enid woke up being extra preppy, not being able to find her preferred sweater, and Bianca thinking she's smarter than she actually is, trying to one-up her. Wednesday's thoughts consisted of only the murder of her classmates and destroying anything that gets in her way. The aura Wednesday emitted made everyone steer clear of her. Unfortunately, for everyone around Wednesday, you were nowhere to be found. It wasn't even lunch yet, and this day could not get any worse. But somehow it did.

Wednesday sat in her usual spot in the classroom, an empty seat for you to her right. It's the first class of the day she had with you, as ashamed as she is to admit it, she looked forward to seeing you. Wednesday looked forward to the gentle touches under the table, the small smiles you sent her, the small doodles in her notebook that she swears she'll get rid of but never does. She sat waiting for you, looking at the door expectantly. Her attention is diverted when the chair next to her scrapes unpleasantly against the floor, something you never did. Wednesday tenses, it's not you.

She turned to look at whoever was brave enough to not only sit next to her, but also take your spot, and found Xavier. Her eyes narrowed at him before she spoke, "What are you doing?" her voice sharp.

"Taking an open seat, what’s it look like?" he shoots back, seemingly also in a broody mood.

Before she could tell him to move the bell rang, and she saw a small victory smirk on his face causing her grip on her pencil to tighten. Wednesday was going to kill him. She turned to scan the room, hoping to find a glimpse of you. She didn't see you, nothing in the room resembled you.

Wednesday turned to Enid, who sat across the room, and stared at her until she understood what the question was. Enid responded with a shrug and mouthing 'I don't know' before turning her attention to the teacher. Where are you?

Wednesday couldn't focus. Xavier's pencil was scraping against his sketchbook too loud, he kept trying to talk to her, and her hands felt cold. You aren't there to absentmindedly draw figures on the back of her hands, she didn't think before she whispered, "Xavier, I'm going to cut out your tongue and feed it to vultures if you don't shut up."

That managed to get him to stop talking to her, instead mumbling to himself about her attitude. The sound of his pencil moving along his sketchbook sounded like nails on a chalkboard, something she would normally ignore, but the sound is too loud for Wednesday. She was on the verge of breaking every single one of his fingers, burning his 'precious' sketchbook, and snapping all of his pencils in half. Now that Xavier stopped talking to her she could hear everyone else, whispering like their conversations are a secret. It made Wednesday clench her jaw and ball her hands into fists, she was mere moments away from cutting everyone's tongue out so she could have some silence.

The bell rang sometime later, signaling the time for her free period. Wednesday immediately gathered her things and stood up, she needed to find you. She was out the door before anyone else, walking swiftly through the halls to where you frequented during your free period. Maybe you're already there. Maybe you're waiting for her.

Her thoughts and strides are cut short when someone calls her name and puts a hand on her shoulder. Yes, Wednesday is going to kill someone today. She turns to find Xavier again, "You must have a death wish," she told him, voice wrapped in displeasure.

"Very funny, Wednesday. Where are you off to in such a hurry?" he inquired, unintentionally antagonizing her.

"That's none of your concern," she replied through gritted teeth, her fingers twitching to wrap around his neck and squeeze the life out of him.

"It kind of is when you ran off before you answered my question," he replies, eyebrows pinched and voice taut with anger.

"Xavier, I do not care about any of your brainless questions. I have somewhere I need to be." She retorts voice laced with venom. She turns and starts walking again only to be stopped again,

"Seriously dude? I just need you to answer one question. What's got you in such a bad mood today, jeez." he's even more irritated now.

The hall is deserted, Wednesday noted. She could kill him now and dispose of the body before anyone noticed either of them are gone. Xavier hardly contributes anything to the school, no one would notice he's missing. Nevermore would be better off without his 'tortured artist' act anyway. If anyone says anything I can just kill them too. I just need to grab my knife and I can dispose of him. If I kidnap him, I could torture him for as long as I want. Try out those torture techniques I learned.

She fixes him with her deadliest glare and in a most threatening voice, "Listen to me carefully, I'm going to make your death the most painful one imaginable and you're going to wish-" she pauses when she feels a familiar weight on her shoulder.

A warmth graces the left side of her body, one that she's grown fond of over a short period. It seems her body just knows it's you without having to look. Wednesday relaxes under your touch almost immediately, all thoughts of murder and Xavier leave her head.

She turns to find your hand resting comfortably on her shoulder, a small smile on your lips. Parts of your face are covered in dirt and you have some small scratches. You're close enough to be in her personal space, but it's still not close enough; not when she's been without you practically all day, but she won't tell you that. In lieu, she'll act angry.

She steps closer to you, eyes losing their murderous gleam, "Where have you been?"

"oh, haha, just around," you reply vaguely, voice soft and tired.

It's not enough, Wednesday decides. Grabbing your hand and dragging you somewhere you're unaware of. You two could hear Xavier yelling something in the background but neither of you care enough to listen to what he had to say.

The only thing on either of your minds is the warmth of the others hand. Neither of you would say anything, but it's pleasant.

Both of you end up in Wednesday's dorm, it's empty since Enid is probably hanging out with some of her friends and Thing is probably trying to steal lotion from the nurses. She sits you down at her desk and grabs her first aid kit, a bottle of water, and some napkins.

"Why weren't you in class earlier?" she asks, breaking the comfortable silence while gently wiping the dirt from your face.

"I was running around in the woods," you reply.

"Why is that a reason to not attend class?" she inquired, wanting to know what was more important than sitting next to her in class.

You don’t reply, there wasn't a specific reason why you were out there. Just wanting to enjoy the nice weather before it got ridiculously cold again.

Wednesday sighs, somewhat miffed by your lack of response, before kneeling down between your legs and taking a dirtied hand in hers. Reaching for the antiseptic,

"How you manage to get so many cuts and bruises is astounding," she says softly as if she's actually amazed.

"you think so?" you ask just as softly.

She merely hums in response, focusing back on your hands. She's thinking about what to say to you. She wants to lecture you about missing class and leaving her by herself with those heathens she calls classmates. Still, you look content. She doesn't want to be the reason that look is ripped from your face.

You don’t flinch when the antiseptic is applied, too focused on Wednesday's face. She appears to be lost in thought, you can't blame her. You hadn't seen her since dinner yesterday, you just wanted to be with her.

It slightly startled you when her eyes met yours, looking down at your hands to realize their clean and patched up. Wednesday is taking in every detail of your face, now all cleaned and patched up by her hands; the thought makes a smile ghost over her face.

The close proximity and the way she's looking at you make your cheeks heat up. Her eyes burning trails on your skin, she's not shy about it either. The heat is spreading all over your body, unconfined to just your cheeks and the tips of your ears. You want to look away, but you can't tear your eyes from her either.

"Don't skip the classes we share," she said, breaking the silence but not breaking eye contact.

"I'm sorry?" your brain is still slightly distracted by her.

"You and I share a couple of classes. Do not skip them again," she said evenly.

"It bothered you that much?" you ask innocently.

"If you want to leave me with those brainless imbeciles, I don’t blame you. I don’t want to be in the same general area as them either. However, it's not a good idea to skip class—"

You stopped listening, your brain is too occupied by how pretty she looks and how close she is. You're aware she's going on a rant and it probably would be a good idea to listen, even if she's just saying unkind things about your classmates, but she hasn't stood up. She's still kneeling between your legs, your hands are still interlocked and your brain is short-circuiting.

You can't help yourself, you lean forward and connect your lips. It's soft and something you wish you could feel every waking moment. This kiss is just as memorable as the first. You pull away quickly, realizing you cut her off. You blink rapidly, trying to regain composure and some coherent thoughts, she does the same. Wednesday forgot what she was scolding you for. Her thoughts are now completely on you.

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to-"

"Again." she cuts you off. You blink owlishly at her, still not completely caught up with everything. She repeats,

"Do that again," you comply this time. Lips moving graciously against one another as if they were made to do this. Your hands find their place on her jaw and the back of her neck, pulling her closer to you. Her hands lightly grab your arms, forbidding you from pulling them away.

Neither of you is sure what time it is, not that either of you cares. Not wanting to leave the others to embrace, no longer caring for class. You pull away after a couple minutes, not wanting things to get too heated when Enid or Thing could come back at any moment. You connect your foreheads and close your eyes, trying to gain control of your breathing.

She looks at you fondly, eyes soft in a way no one but you will get to see. Her admiring is cut short by you, "Take a nap with me?" you ask.

Wednesday mumbles rejections while standing to grab you clean and comfortable clothes. You smile at her, knowing she could never say no to you. After changing she all but pulls you into her bed. She links your pinkies together and covers both of you with her black sheet. Wednesday doesn't have time to think about how her day went before sleep takes over.

------

Enid walks in an hour later to find you two in bed together. She feels brave enough to snap a quick picture to send to you later. She sees your eyes open and looks at her, she mouths a 'thank you' with a large bowing motion. You sleepily smile at her and give her a thumbs up before she quietly rushes out of the room, hoping not to wake her roommate. Yeah, you really do work like a charm.

tags:@alexkolax @rainbow-love4ever @o638

[unforgettwble-sumii]

SWEET SWEET JEALOUSY 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ

(Wednesday x Gn!reader)

—

• Scenario #1 - Xavier attempting to worm himself into your heart.

Now, it is quite obvious that Wednesday was not much of a fan of Xavier but after his attempts of trying to woo you, she was sure to start planning his funeral.

Wednesday was on her way to the table you were sitting at. She suddenly stopped in her tracks when she saw Xavier running his way to the same exact table she was about to go to. Your table.

She was curious at what he was about to do so, instead of making her way to your table, she quietly watched his every little step from behind one of the pillars.

curiosity has always been one of Wednesdays weakness so she couldn't help but "spy" on you guys. She didn't mean to, she just wanted to know what he wanted from you. Is that wrong? She doesn't think so.

"Y/N!" Xavier called out, his smile was so bright that he could be used as a backup when the sun decides to give up.

Wednesday made a face of disgust the minute he flashed that bright smile of his. He probably only smiled like that in attempt to charm you.

"Oh, hey Xavier." you smiled back, yet instead of Wednesday making a face of disgust, Wednesdays sharp gaze softened.

But Wednesday wasn't the only one who was enjoying that sweet smile of yours.

Xavier stood beside you, he was holding something behind him. You wondered what it was so, you asked him.

"Xavier, what's that behind you?" You asked curiously. Oh that sweet voice of yours not only caused Wednesdays face to lightly redden, but also Xavier's.

"Oh! Uhm- I got you these..heh" Xavier pulled something from behind your back and it was a, flower. Not just any type of flower, it was a red tulip.

Red tulips represent a declaration of love from someone who is begging the recipient to believe them when they confess their love.

"We grew it in class awhile back" He said sheepishly scratching the back of his neck.

That sly bastard.

"Oh...wow, they look pretty" you say admiring the flower. You thought that it was kind of weird for him to gift you this but you didn't wanna be rude, so you accepted it.

Oh how Wednesday wanted to rip his head off and feed it to the vultures that fly freely outside her home.

She decided that she wasn't gonna wait any further and made her way to the table where you and Xavier were talking.

"I think it's pathetic." She replied. Her sudden appearance and comment startled both you and Xavier.

"You declaring your love to someone who clearly isn't interested in you and who you know has a lover is merely pathetic." She continues, glaring into Xavier's soul.

Xavier was about to reply to her comment but before he could get a word out of his mouth, Wednesday pulled you to her side surprising you at her sudden action.

"Let's go, amor." She says while eyeing Xavier then quickly glancing back to you.

Your expression showed her that you were confused, though you decided not to ask her about her actions.

"Okay! See you in class Xavier!" You say waving him a goodbye. Xavier was about to wave goodbye but brought his hand back down when Wednesday turned her head to glare at him.

"That is if he actually gets there." Wednesday whispered under her breath causing you to turn your head to glance at her.

"What was that?" You asked.

"Nothing, amor."

—

• Scenario #2 - "I'll need to borrow this little cutie for a while, hope ya don't mind ;)." - Yoko

You were laying down on Wednesdays bed, phone in hand. While Wednesday was sitting infront of her desk.

She was doing her daily 1 hour of writing time, and she let you stay as long as you promised to keep quiet and not bother her while she typed on her typewriter.

You were getting quite bored because of how quiet it was and you were running out of ideas of things to do that won't tick Wednesday off.

You tossed and turned around on Wednesdays bed causing the bed to make loud creaking sounds, making Wednesday turn her head to glare at you.

"What did I say about keeping quiet?" She said. Voice firm as ever. "sorry, sorry. It's just- I'm bored."

You say laying on your stomach while hugging one of Wednesdays pillows.

Her pillow cover was black and at the bottom right corner there was an embroidery of her initials. W.A, stands for Wednesday Addams aka the love of your life.

But you would never say that to her (directly, at least) because that would probably scar Wednesday for life.

Wednesday sighed and continued to type on her typewriter. You were quietly laying down and thinking of what to do next until you heard a knock at the door. "I'm busy." Wednesday spoke up.

"stop that or I will butcher your hands and feed it to Cerberus himself." Wednesday yelled, causing you to glance at her.

"What if it's Enid???" You say getting up to go check out who was knocking.

"She can climb through the balcony to get in." Wednesday shot back.

You opened the door and to your surprise, it was not Enid. Instead, it was Yoko. "Hey there" Yoko gave you a playful smile.

"Hello, Yoko" you replied, giving her your own smile in return. "What is it that you so desperately need that made you disturb my writing time?" Wednesday asked. her typing not faltering even once.

"I'll need to borrow this little cutie for awhile, hope you don't mind." She replied to Wednesdays question, jokingly giving you a wink.

Yoko knew how possessive Wednesday could be when it came to people she cares about.

She just wanted to see how long Wednesday could keep it together before Wednesday decides to chokes her to death.

Wednesday turned around, stood up and replied to her with "I do mind. So, no you will not be borrowing them." The ravennette replied, eyeing the vampire. Her hand held yours in a defensive manner, and you and Yoko noticed that making Yoko give you a smirk.

"I need them for a project in botany cla-" Yoko didn't even have a chance to finish her sentence before Wednesday shut the door.

"she talks to much." Wednesday says staring at the door, causing you to giggle.

Wednesday tensed quite a bit when she heard your giggle but it made her small black heart warm up.....

—

• Scenario #3 - A new student has arrived and he happened to sit on her seat, right beside you.

You were sitting at your usual seat, right beside Wednesday. Except she wasn't here yet.

You wonder where your girlfriend could be since she's usually the first one to arrive in the classrooms.

Your hand was resting on your cheek, and while you were lost in thoughts a voice pulled you out of your trance

"Y/N!" A familiar blonde came running your way. "Hello, Enid." You say giving her a sweet smile.

"A new student is on their way here EEECKKK!!" The bubbly blonde squealed in excitement.

"Really?" You asked, now completely engaged into the conversation. Completely forgetting about your girlfriends absence.

The blonde quickly nodded. "That means a new friend!!!" She says dramatically clasping her hands. You chuckled at her actions.

"Oh, I should probably go! ttyl!!" She says running to her seat.

A little while later the professor arrived. And yet, still no sign of Wednesday. "Hello class, today we have a new student. I expect you guys to welcome them with open arms." The professor spoke up.

Then came a young student with white hair and fangs. By now, you knew that he wes a vampire.

"Hi, everyone. My name's Louise Nelson." He says with a small smile. He seemed like a shy boy, based on his posture and body language.

"Alright, Louise please sit down next to that student on the right, Y/N L/N. It seems like Addams won't be with us for today's discussion so I'm sure she wouldn't mind." The professor says pointing to the empty seat next to you.

Louise nodded and made his way next to you. You gave him a smile and he gave you a small shaky one in return.

The professor continued on with his discussion. A little while later, the door opened and in came a sweaty, out of breath, Wednesday Addams.

"I am sorry that I am late. It won't happen again." She says unnoticeably panting. The professor gave her a chance since this was the first time she was late for discussion.

"It's completely alright, Miss Addams. However, you'll need to sit in another seat since Mr. Nelson has taken your seat for today's lecture."

The ravennette glanced beside you and indeed, someone else was sitting on her seat. Wednesday nodded in response since she felt like nothing needed to be said.

She sat at the empty seat right behind yours. While on her way there, she completely stared at the back of Louise's head with a predatorial gaze

Knowing the young Addams, you knew she was planning something in her head, and it most likely included the following items; rope, shovel, and a bat with nails.

You gave her a smile in hopes of changing her mind, and you did. Kinda.

She sat at the seat behind you begrudgingly. She couldn't focus on the lecture and instead stared at the boy infront of her.

You turned to look at the ravennette behind you. She was staring so intently at the boy beside you that you felt it was appropriate to distract her.

'it's just for one lecture.' you mouthed to her while your hands make way on top of hers. she glanced back at you, "I'm trying my best not to lunge at him, Amor."

"And you're doing great." You gave her a smile and turned back to continue paying attention to the discussion infront of you.

Finally after 30 minutes of an excruciatingly long lecture, it was lunch time.

"Thankyou for letting me sit next to you. Even if your girlfriend seems to hate the fact that I was right beside you.." The young boy says, scratching the back of his neck.

"Oh, no worries. I know how hard it is being the new student at school." You say facing him and giving him a smile.

The boy felt his cheeks heat up and oh boy did Wednesday notice that...

"I'd like to have my lover back now." The ravennette spoke up. "Oh! Uh- yeah" Louise stuttered out.

Wednesday stared at him with a deadpanned expression the continued to look at you. "Uhm..- Y/N if you're free, do you wanna grab some coffee at the weathervane sometime?"

The boy said giving you a more confident smile than he gave you earlier on, and this time aswell the redness of his cheeks were very much visible.

Before you could respond, Wednesday went ahead and decided that she was gonna respond for you. "No. She wouldn't." And pulled you to the door.

You gave Louise an apologetic smile and a mouth 'sorry' while Wednesday pulled you along.

"I do not like him." Wednesday admitted. You giggled and cupped her cheeks. "But I'm glad he's out of sight now." She added, cheeks red at the sudden touch.

"You are all mine, Cara mia." Wednesday closed the remaining gap by pulling you into an unexpected hug making you give her a closed eye smile, completely feeling comfortable at the sudden closeness.

"Yes, all yours."

a/n:

Hello mi amor's, this was requested by a lovely anon: here.

Sadly I could only fit about 3 oneshots but they ended being quite long so I hope it makes up for it.

૮₍˶Ó﹏Ò 🎀₎ა

anon didn't specify the gender so I figured that I would just make it a gn!reader, hope that's okay! (⁠｡⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠) :D

it's the 2nd day of our sembreak and I hope that I'll be able to publish/make more oneshots and your requests!

ε(´｡•᎑•`)っ 💕

That's all remember that I luv u all so muchhh!! xoxo ♡ - ©unforgettwble-sumii

©unforgettwble-sumii's work. Pls do not repost, steal modify, or translate.

Bonus!! As a token of gratitude for all the support I've been getting, here are pics of Jenna/Wednesday ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

Credits to:

@livilmc15, @oneway_closet, & @lucasinclairsbff On Pinterest for these lovely pics! <33

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

OH. okay so normally i dont touch discourse with a 20 ft pole, but this has been niggling at my brain tonight and i finally realized why

the people who are mad at qbbh for the memory loss and “dodging consequences” dont understand that he doesnt want to dodge consequences. Like they cant know that, they werent focused on him when he was literally feeding himself to the soul vultures and planning his eventual imprisonment and also. The Many Many Many hints he made towards suicide/sacrifice/Just Fucking Dying.

ccbbh is a subtle roleplayer, he’s been building this shit up for two whole months- it was day FIVE of the eggs going missing that he resolved to do whatever it took (hurting his friends) to get the eggs back. It was day three that he followed in dapper’s footsteps and started feeding himself to the soul vultures (and gaining a Massive headwound beneath his hood in the process- you can only see it if you go on namemc and remove the layers). He’s got impaired judgement. Even the memory issues arent a new thing- i cant remember exactly when they started, but one of the first big moments i remmeber was september 30th where he spent an hour falling into a delusional frenzy searching his base for cameras that he forgot he asked aypierre to plant.

The super murder of purgatory and the memory loss afterwards probably all feels very sudden for people who havent been following his story, but as someone who has been- all of this has been true to character. The only cheap swings he’s made have been combat-based in purgatory, and even the motive for those was built up in rp.

People are calling for consequences, but he has alrwady been experiencing self-inflicted consequences for months. The blue on his usual outfit is blood. This recent memory loss isnt a restart to get away with the atrocities - it is yet another consequence of his egg-protecting complexes and the ways he punishes himself for failing them.

he is NOT a moral character. he’s a demon hiding in plain site. he has eaten people. he has killed people. he understands the cruelty of his actions, and the consequences of them for the loved ones of his victims. but it matters when that harm is being done to his loved ones. he’ll still do it, because he will do anything for the eggs, but it matters, and that means that he has already started the process of self-inflicting those much-demanded consequences

[acapelladitty]

please consider: since jonathan crane is tall, skinny as straw, and bizarre looking, he must've been approached at least once in his life by a modeling agent asking him to consider going to casting calls (most likely in his younger/college years). how do you think he would react to being approached as a potential model?

p.s. thank you SO much for all your fics and dedication to constantly feeding us content 🙏

Tightening his grip on the lining of his jacket pockets, Crane pushed through the throngs of Gothamites as they scuttled around the mall with all the enthusiasm of vultures who had discovered a fresh abundance of carrion.

"Hi!"

Freezing in place as a tall, slim woman stepped directly in his path, Crane pinned her with a piercing gaze for her sheer impudence.

"My name is Leanne Singh. I'm a modelling agent for Prime Model Management."

Her smile was earnest as she held her hand out in the empty space between them. Perfectly manicured nails flashed at him - their glossy surface a picture of health - and he glanced at her hand until she pulled it away with a sheepish chuckle.

"Anyways- I couldn't help but stop you, Mr?" She paused, expecting him to fill in the blanks.

"Dr." Crane responded with a sneer. "Dr. Crane."

"Ooh, handsome and a Doctor too? Some people have all the luck."

“Indeed. Good day.”

Stepping to the side of her, a scowl settled on Crane’s features once more as she matched his movements perfectly.

“Have you ever thought of joining an agency? Modelling agencies are committed to diversity and your unique look could provide an interesting dynamic to some upcoming Fall/Winter collections for designers ranging from Stev- why are you laughing?”

Her brow knitting in confusion, Leanne took a small, measured step back as the man before her dissolved into a riotous laugh – his tall frame curling slightly as his painfully thin hands slapped the front of his sides to support his movements.

Gaining control of himself, his features quickly settled into their original frown as only the faintest touch of amusement sat in the corner of his lips.

“Somehow, I don’t think so. Leave me be, child.”

And with that, his long legs sidestepped her once more and this time Leanne did nothing to stop him as he swept past her with a dismissive aura and continued on – his rail-thin frame quickly disappearing into the crowds of excited shoppers as they remained unaware of the monster which stalked freely among them.

(and thank you for the lovely message xx)

[pretty-batty]

Feast for the Beast

Eddie x Original Female Character Pt 8 of Eldath's Priestess 3963 Words

Warning: SMUT (18+ only), description of facial deformities, monster fucking, rough sex, thigh fucking, inhuman shween, biting, messy sex. Allusions to past "carrion" eating, body horror, gore, stitches. Now on ao3 Thank you @anakinkshamer for being my beta reader

Summary: Eddie can no longer keep up the lie. But can Judy handle the beast he becomes under Vecna's frenzy?

The frenzy was coming soon. The need to hunt gnawed at the back of Eddie’s head, raising what little hackles he had. He insisted they wait to change his stitches. Rather than tell them why, he explained that he needed to prepare himself.

He sat on the couch with Judy nestled in the crook of his arm. And like the magical psychic she was, Judy looked up at him and spoke. “You okay, baby?”

He was silent, contemplating whether to lie again. But one look in her gray eyes, he decided against it. His lips parted to push out a shaky sigh. “Getting hungry.”

“Like normal hungry…?”

He shook his head, his curls dancing over her face. Judy grinned, shimmying out of his arm and sweeping her leg over his hip. She stroked down his shoulders, settling in his lap. Oh. Sexy hungry. Eat you out hungry. She knew it, smiling. “You can feed on me.”

All Eddie did was just stare at her shoulder, face sullen. No amount of her grinding herself against him could stir him out of it. Her smile dropped as she dismounted, kneeling between his legs. Her fingers cradling his face, trying to catch his eyes.

“It’s not a joke.” He whispered, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Okay,” Judy cooed, “okay, baby. What did you do before?”

He managed a choked whine, clamping his eyes shut and shaking his head. His chest heaved in short bursts, hyperventilating before letting go in a cry from behind his teeth. His brow dropped onto her shoulder, crying against whatever fabric she was wearing.

He shuddered like a flower caught in a harsh wind, cradled in Judy’s arms. Finally, he collected himself enough to tell her. Admit his most horrible act as he dragged himself through hell.

“I feasted on the…” He blinked hard, regaining himself, “the dead. Carrion. Like a vulture. There were so many, and I didn’t even think. It was like something was eating through me. I was still hungry, my stomach felt empty, but the nagging pain, the creature in my arms and legs, thrashing behind my eyes, was at peace. It would happen every week, and when my mouth would heal, every time, the seams would split open again. It’s why I keep my face stitched up. Why I stayed away, even when I had a mind of my own.” Eddie’s soft gaze met Judy’s, pleading for some solace in his confession, “I’m a monster, Judy.”

But Judy was silent. Her heart ached, broken for a boy who was never malicious. Not for as long as she knew him. Taking a beat with a soft smile in her eyes, she made her decision. She would take care of him. She gave his shoulders a squeeze before standing. “Is it blood, or just flesh?”

“Both.”

“Does the source matter?” She turned to the window.

“No.”

“Okay,” she watched the cars pass by her house, “let me take care of it.”

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

Who knew meat was so heavy? Several pounds of shoulder, brisket, and offal (edible organs) hung off her body from various plastic bags. The last was cradled in her arms in a paper bag. A liter of pigs blood. She was still bristling at the interaction she had with the butcher.

“I don’t keep Kosher.” Was all she should have had to say. Not play 20 questions with a man she’d never see again, God willing.

She entered to see Wayne and Margie at the dinner table. Eddie was hiding out in her room.

“Did he tell you what was going on?”

“Didn’t have to, a lot of people have been swooped at by those bat things tonight. Those weird beasts running in the woods. Animals dead. Must be like a feeding frenzy.” Wayne said plainly, nodding to Judy’s bounty, “those for him?”

“Yeah, enough to equate to a quarter of an adult male. I hope it’s enough to sate it and make it easier for him.” She admitted, hauling the bags to the counter. “Don’t know how to prepare it, though. I don’t want him to feel like an animal.”

Margie rested a hand on Judy’s shoulder, “I think I can help with that. I’ve read all about preparing offal. Those will be untouched. As for the meat, I think giving him a variety will make it more sensible. Let’s unwrap what we will use now, stash the other in the cooler. The new fridge will be delivered tomorrow.”

Judy’s aunt was always a wonderful cook, even if there was no actual cooking involved. Her palate was second to none, and in another life, she would have easily beaten the best chefs of the era. Her plate dressing was the most notable, as she could dress even the most grotesque creation beautifully. The way her hands sliced and handled the cuts of beef and pork, the way she heated the blood and thickened it to form a gravy, it was as if she was preparing the grandest meal for the highest king.

As Judy carried the tray to her bedroom, she couldn’t help but marvel at the meal. Eddie met her at the door, mouth covering his face. His eyes wide in fear, Eddie nudged Judy out of the way as he bolted to the bathroom. He stopped in the doorway, looking to the tray in Judy’s hands.

“Oh uh, thanks!” He slipped the food from her hands.

Before she could say, “you’re wel-” He closed the door and turned on the fan.

There was no click of the lock, but Judy respected the little privacy that piece of wood provided him. She simply slid down the wall beside the door, sitting and listening for him to call for her when he was finished.

But she didn’t hear him speak, only hiccupping sobs and feverish gnashing of teeth ricochetting off the walls of the shower. He groaned and sighed as the meat traveled down his throat, the beast within him sounding pleased. He slurped the thickened blood and continued to consume all that was before him. The fan covered up any other sounds. In fact, the only one who could hear anything was Judy. Eddie would appreciate that once the frenzy was over.

That’s when she heard him whine, hyperventilating. No more chewing sounds, no more scarfing and grunting. There was a thump on the shell of the shower, then the sound of the faucet starting and then the shower head. Another whine, and then sobs, as quiet as he could be.

“Eddie, are you okay?” Her fist gently rapped at the door, “Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” came a breathy voice, before trying again to be heard, “yeah.”

She did so, sliding through the smallest crack she could make before closing the door behind her. Eddie was in the shower, the curtain had been removed. He had rummaged through the garage when Judy was out gathering his meat, bringing out a large, heavy drop-cloth. He had laid it to cover the entirety of the floor from the tub to the sink. It collected the water droplets that sprayed from the shower, mixing with the specks of viscera from his feast.

“I…uhm…I popped a stitch.” He said, the tremble in his voice returning.

Judy was finally able to take him in, or all that he would let her see. His legs were folded in on himself, hiding his pelvis. The blood diluted by the water washing from his body and swirling down the drain.

“It’s okay. We were going to take them out anyway, clean you up before we put in new ones.” She smiled, reaching through the shower’s stream to stroke what little of his face she could reach.

His mouth was swollen and red, covered in blood, each time he moved his jaw to speak the cracks in his face split, straining against the stitches. The inner stitch on either corner of his mouth was gone, no doubt down the drain. “Can you…can you cut the others? Release my mouth it really hurts. I can’t do it myself, I’m…” He grit his back teeth, “I’m scared.”

Judy turned off the shower, allowing the rest of the water to pour out the drain. She retrieved the cuticle scissors and doused the blades in isopropyl alcohol, volunteering her own towel to Eddie, letting him gently pat his aching face dry. She didn’t notice how his eyes fluttered closed when he smelled it. His hands immediately covering his cock and his jaw clamping back a moan.

They managed to configure themselves in a way that had Eddie’s head leaning back and resting on a folded towel, Judy leaning over him with one light bulb able to not be eclipsed by Judy’s puffy hair. Thankfully the tissue around the stitches had been moved enough to disturb buildup.

“You ready, big guy?” Judy asked, pushing her glasses back up her nose. Eddie nodded and closed his eyes. His body tensed to keep himself still, to ease the process for her. She leaned in and began to carefully snip through each stitch, the grody cotton falling away slowly as the doubled-up thread gave way to each close of the blades.

Judy’s neck was all Eddie could see, and smell. The expanse from shoulder to shoulder, chin to sternum, exposed to him and all that entailed. Her smell, the warmth from her skin. Each inhale he took sent an intense wave of need to his cock.

Unbeknownst to Judy, Eddie’s genitals had swollen far beyond human comparison. As if fluid beneath the skin had gathered and smoothed out and imperfections. It was softer in feeling but larger in girth. Clear fluid streaming out of the tip, hot and itching for her. And it ached. Oh, how his entire lower half ached. He clamped his hands around it, trying to slow it down, but that did nothing but make it worse. Stroking did too. Like it ached for one thing only, the thing that had awoken it in the first place.

Judy.

She was so engrossed in the procedure, obsessing over gently snipping each stitch, she hadn’t seen anything else. The top two lines of stitches had released, and the skin pulled back. She saw the gums around his canines and pre-molars had receded, and the tooth itself growing into the bone, making them bigger, tougher. The edges of the skin were raw. His top lip, which resembled the top lip of a Demogorgon maw, released upward to show his incisors, the gums had receded there too, but not to the same extent. The teeth meant for tearing meat were strengthened, where there would be porous dentine and bone was more enamel. If she didn’t love him, his face would have been unnerving.

But to Judy, she was just sad. Morose even over the immense pain this first transformation must have been for him.

She moved to each cheek, each stitch clipped wave way to his back teeth. All the way to his top two wisdom teeth. After the pre-molars, the rest of the teeth were unchanged. The last stitch strained slightly, causing Eddie’s focus to return to his mouth. He folded his lips and cheeks, firming the corners of his mouth, allowing her to snip the last.

“Good job, Eddie.” She sighed, placing a kiss between his brows. Eddie’s hum was more lustful than proud. “Can you keep your mouth closed for the other side?”

“Mm.” He answered, forcing all his facial muscles together. She continued, this time the tension was minimal. A relief each time the thread gave to the blades, but the tension continued to build elsewhere.

His chin was the final set. The hardest to cut through. The one he obsessed over, sewing it together in a cross-stitch, keeping it from separating at all. That was how he could talk, by keeping his hands over the other fissures, he could leave his bottom lip and chin to move. Without it, his face was unrecognizable, and any hope of talking was gone.

One of Eddies hands gripped Judy’s wrist, soaked by his cock and the juices that flowed from it. She felt it drip down her arm as she stopped.

He shook his head.

“You want to wait until we can fix it immediately?”

He nodded.

Judy’s eyes traveled down the stitches, like a trail to finally bring her focus to his swollen cock laying against his abdomen. “Oh my God, Eddie. What?”

Eddie’s other hand lifted from it to form his mouth again, not realizing it would reveal him completely. She stopped him before he could with a stern “no.”

He kept his lips pursed, forcing his maw closed as Judy ran hot water from the faucet and put a bar of soap in his hands. In his panicked and feral mind, he had forgotten about cleanliness, haphazardly washing his hands before forming a cup around his maw, opening a gap between his fingers to allow sound to emanated from the chamber. “Hurts…really bad. Like…not infected bad but…I just. Your smell. It’s…” He blinked back his shame, kneeling in the tub as his need dripped down his balls. “I tried when you were focused, see if it would calm it down.”

It took her a moment to realize what he was trying to say. The frenzy must heighten other desires besides food, other hungers.

“It just made it worse. I need…”

“Okay.”

“What?”

“Okay, let’s do this. Holy shit…” She looked at it. “Uhm…We’d need to be in a different position. Because that’s not fitting when I’m on my back. Shit but I need something under my hips if we’re doing it from behind.” Judy continued to stew. She slipped out of the bathroom, returning with her boombox, Ride the Lightning still inside. She continued to mutter to herself regarding logistics and the ethics of having sex with him in a feral state. She closed the door and locked it, taking off a piece of clothing at a time, starting with her earrings and ending with her jeans. Breasts still contained behind a front-clasped bra, panties at her hips. She finished her torrent of planning, “Drop cloth should be fine.”

She turned to Eddie, also on his feet, gazing at his face in the mirror. From a distance, he opened his maw, tongue sliding along his back teeth. Getting on her knees, she gazed up at him. His eyes left his own reflection in the mirror, to see it in her glasses instead. Judy finally got to see it, the petals of his cheeks moving independently from his jaw, flashes of teeth and reddened gums. The bright yellow of his eyes returning.

His claws reached out, removing her glasses for her and placing them on the counter. His talon pressed down on the boombox’s switch. With the slam on his drums, Lars and Cliff opened the guitars into their two-note cry. A startling opening to the album’s title track.

Intense. Guitar licks like you wouldn’t believe. Most of all, it was loud. Loud enough to cover the sound of a hard fuck.

Judy’s favorite.

She loved to fuck to Ride the Lightning.

Judy couldn’t see the details of Eddie’s face, just streaks of red and pink blending into his pale skin. When he got close enough to her, his maw was pinched together, pressing his forehead against hers. His claws caressed her face and neck, chest beginning to rise and fall deeper. Her scent filling his nose, striking the iron in his core. He was stalling. There was no doubt. She could hear him grinding his molars, clenching to control.

“Eddie, baby, it’s okay.” She said, her voice nearly hypnotic to his frazzled nerves, “I’ll be fine.” Her hand reached down and ghosted her fingertips over his swollen cock, more need seeping from his slit. “Take what you need.”

His breathing came out stuttered, short inhales and exhales before one long sigh. Judy took a chance, her lips gently pressing against the petals of his top lip. Another long sigh passed through his nose, his hips gently bucked into the air.

Eddie’s glowing eyes narrowed playfully, parting from her and crawling to slot himself behind her. There was a sense of excitement in Judy’s body, heart fluttering down to her pussy. In this circumstance, logically, she knew she should have been on her guard. But in the end, her lust won out.

She wanted to try it.

Facing the locked door, palms against the coarse drop cloth, Judy readied herself. She shimmied out of her panties with the help of Eddie’s claws. His hot shaft rested along the crack of her ass. Any touch let to a stream of pre-cum to leave Eddie’s cock. He grasped himself and stroked the head along her folds, painting her with it. Sinking the tip in a few times, guiding his own need inside of her with his talons. Judy purred at the attention, but her knees and shoulders ached already.

Facing away from him, she believed she could hide her pout. But the sigh was audible enough, and Judy’s eyes widened when she realized it. Looking over her shoulder to see Eddie’s blurry but furrowed brow, his eyes narrowed again.

He grasped her hips, sinking himself inside of her. Pulling her closer and closer until it stopped. In Judy’s surprise, she had clenched. His right hand ran up her spine, warm palm and a little pressure, as if to say, “relax.”

She breathed deep into her abdomen, lips parting in a moan. Eddie continued to thrust himself in.

The cock was softer, stiff enough to drive into her, but the skin itself gave as he fucked her. With each pass, his need milked out from his tip and flowed into her. Eddie continued to grow more mindless, needing more, more, more.

Judy's arms weakened as he kept going. From behind her, Eddie's maw hung open, his pointed tongue tasting the air as he panted. Finally, her arms gave out as she slowly rested herself on the drop cloth, arms folded to support her head. Each time he drew out from her, their combined juices fell down her legs.

Eddie's claws gripped her hips harder as he took on her weight. Without his hands or stitches, he could not speak. But with this little lift, he was whispering to her “let go.”

Judy could sense it, surrendering control to Eddie as he continued to fuck into her. All he had to do was keep her up, keep her close. One hand moved up to grip her shoulder, the other remaining on her hip as he bounced her on his swollen cock. Her entrance finally gave way to the swollen base, and she let out a whine from her gritted teeth.

Their combined need poured from her with each draw of his cock, his pace growing more frantic. Judy had receded into herself completely. Her clit remained untouched, and each sensation remained somewhat muted. This was not for her pleasure.

Eddie pulled out a little too far, and when attempting to slide back in with the next thrust, his cock missed and ran between her thighs. His tip catching her clit and leading to a gasp from her lips. He froze.

She unfolded her arms, sinking her palms back to the floor. “Fuck, Eddie please do that again.”

Her thighs instinctively tried to close, and rather than keep them open, Eddie readjusted himself. He pushed her thighs closed, bracketing his calves on either side of hers. Her soft skin enveloped his cock as he drew himself back. Just as it had inside her, his cock gave way and expelled more from his tip. His cock stroking her lips and clit as he did it again. And again. Judy's head reared back, eyes closed with a smile, finally receiving attention as her skin buzzed.

Eddie's face drove forward, bending over her to press himself into the side of her neck. His maw opened to her skin to taste as he returned to his thrusting. The tip of his cock rubbing against her with such fervor, she quickly doubled over, trembling. It was too much. But she wouldn't deny him. No fear of wrath, nor sting of shame kept her, oh no, it was his hunger she fell prey to.

The old Eddie's hunger, amplified by the mindless rutting, his spit and need covering her body. Her nerves were alight in pleasure. Tears springing from her closed lashes. Her jaw kept clenched. She hung her head down, opening her eyes to see it. The head of his swollen cock slipping between her thighs, the release growing cloudier with each pass.

He was getting close, sweat dripping down their bodies as Judy lifted her head. Eddie followed suit, pulling her back with him until his back hit the floor. She felt him cling to her, trusting her to keep her own thighs shut as he continued rutting. His heels dug into the floor, legs tensed as he kept himself up. His teeth sunk into Judy's shoulder, making her scream out, covered by Kirk Hammet's wailing solo that continued to blast through the boombox.

His whole body tensed beneath her as his cock erupted, cum streaming from between her thighs, each pass leading to another fountain of him. He emptied himself onto Judy's skin, hotter than she had ever felt before. Everything below her navel and above her knees was soaked in him, below them as well.

Finally, he was empty. The frenzy was gone. He released her shoulder from his maw. His arms weakened but still stayed around her. Judy remained still, trembling. His bite surprised her. His power surprised her.

Not being able to hear his voice, that scared her.

No skin was broken on her shoulder, but the bruises were deep. Eddie had never bitten her before, not like this. A little nip occasionally, but not a whole chomp. She was the one more likely to do that. And even then, it was rare.

Judy didn’t know what to do. She was completely soaked. Eddie’s cock still clamped between her thighs. But, to her relief, Eddie was willing to take control. He laved his tongue over her bitemark before kissing it as well as he could. His hands guided her left arm around his neck, his hands sliding beneath her thighs. He sat up, pulling his legs beneath him. Their mess fell from between Judy’s parted thighs, a slight hop and he balanced on the balls of his feet.

“I don’t think you can do that. You’re not strong enough.” Judy said, voice coming out like a strained whisper. But Eddie simply breathed deep, picking her up as he rose to his full height. Judy’s free hand scrambled to find something to grip on to. She watched his eyes move from her to the toilet. She lifted the lid and Eddie set her down, letting her feet finally reach the floor. She stood, hand resting on the counter, giving her a way to guide herself on to the toilet.

As she did what she needed to do, Eddie started the shower once again. The drop cloth caught the torrent of sex and famine, but as Eddie nodded to the shower, she realized she would not be the one to clean up. She was back in his hands.

He joined her, taking turns under the water. She gazed at him, vision still obscured, water blocked by his head. His maw opened into a smile, too wide to be human, before leaning his head to the side. The showerhead sprayed water directly into Judy’s face, before once again being blocked by Eddie’s head.

As Judy sputtered in surprise, backing up to rub her eyes, she smiled to herself.

Thank God, he’s back.

Phew, that was intense! Thank you so much for reading my loves. I will start giving myself a less intense deadline. New chapters every weekend. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! tag list: @loserboysandlithium

[mysterious-trail-of-goop]

I LOVVEEE Jason todd and Peter Parker fics because their stories are almost exact parallels except for the fact that Peter had a support system and Jason didn't.

They both grew up dirt poor and surrounded by tragedy. But Peter always had uncle ben and aunt may to keep him optimistic and happy. Jason had an extremely abusive father and a mother who had drug problems and that home environment made him cynical and untrusting.

They both experienced the loss of a parental figure (Uncle Ben and Catherine Todd) and became heroes shortly after.

They both got superhero mentors (Tony and Bruce). Except Tony (and u can fight me on this) was horribly manipulative, threatening Peter with releasing his identity (effectively threatening his family and friends), forcing A FIFTEEN YEAR OLD to fight CAPTAIN AMERICA, WHO DIDN'T KNOW HE WAS A CHILD AND WASN'T HOLDING BACK. Jason got Brucie boy who despite being emotionally constipated did LOVE Jason as a son.

Both their mentors/father figures took away their ability to help people over a well intentioned mistake. This taught their mentees (whether on purpose or not) that they were only accepted when they are useful and that their love is conditional. This is NOT what bruce intended but he is too traumatised a up his own ass to verbally affirm his love for Jason, and because he never TOLD jason that he was his son, or that he loved him, Jason never knew.

After their ability to superhero was taken away both of them rebelled in an attempt to find love (Peter trying to prove he IS worthy and win Tony's love and Jason tried to get affection from Sheila Haywood because he believed so deeply that Bruce's love was impossible to attain)

In both cases they ended up with a warehouse on top of them.

Peter had slowly been realising over the course of Homecoming that Tony DIDN'T love him, and that tony WASN'T coming to save him from the building. So peter knew he had to get himself out of that situation and he only had this revelation because he had an example of what real love looks like (MJ, Ned, May etc). When jason was in that warehouse in Ethiopia he took Sheila's betrayal as proof that he was undeserving of love and therfore, he thought no one was coming to save him AND ACCEPTED THAT. Particularly heartbreaking because Batman WAS coming to save him, but didn't arrive in time.

Peter (in my au at least) heals from Tony and Vulture with his family, friends and other heroes (cough daredevil cough). But Jason never got that chance, after he was resurrected he found out abt tim and abt the Joker surviving and took it as FURTHER confirmation that Bruce never loved him.

Jason returns to Gotham and eventually comes to a sort of truce with batman but he feels like he can never truly be a part of the family again because of what he's been through. Batman believes so deeply in second chances, but thats the issue. Bruce EXPECTS jason to change, change his methods and his morality. Even though nothing about who jason is was his choice, he literally couldn't change if he wanted to.

Peter (despite having a no kill rule) doesnt expect this from him. Sure he will actively sabotage kill shots or stand in the way, but he won't ask him to change (experience with deadpool and punisher).

This results in Jason changing his methods OF HIS OWN FREE WILL, because he sees how much the killing upsets Spider-Man, and how he has never asked him to stop.

Jason would be fiercely protective of Peter, because symbolically, it is jason seeing and accepting that he is NOT peter and he shouldn't be. But also how easy it would have been for Peter to end up like him.

Ultimatley Peter is able to give Jason the one thing he needs, a support system. And Jason can give Peter what he needs in Gotham, someone to look after him, feed him, clothe him, help him through the Pit rage.

Basically this duo is super important to me and you can pry them from my cold dead hands.

[letters-unsending]

No. 44

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Beneath the organization, through a wall that Villain should not be able to see, and down a corridor Villain should not be able to walk, Villain finds Superhero. Not the Superhero, but a Superhero of a past age.

////

Villain was good at finding the things people wanted to keep hidden. He was drawn to upturned floorboards, to safes, to mouths that hung too loose.

In truth, it was not often he found himself purposefully seeking out secrets. He tended to stumble, stagger and land himself in messy webs of half truths and lies. The secrets found him, whether he sought them or not, and he’d long since surrendered himself to the inevitable task of unearthing all things stowed and stashed away.

The Hero Organization burned with secrets. It’s walls ached from holding and veiling the hidden lives of hundreds, but those lies should’ve been dutiful. They should’ve tasted like iron and rung like heavy bells. Instead, the floors felt oily and smelt putrid; the reek of rotted fruit drew Villain down. Locks unlatched before he could reach handles and lights flickered on the turns he needed to take.

This secret was heavy, almost sentient. It conjured whispers, teasing little consonants that devolved into nonsense, and whined as Villain ventured deeper, through levels even Supervillain had no knowledge of. Curiously, there were no guards and the cameras hung down on broken necks. Empty, labyrinthine halls stretched into shadow and Villain followed turn after turn, down into what felt like the very belly of the earth.

Then, a door.

It yawned open as Villain neared, expectant, but he lingered in its frame. The secret was silent. The room beyond was silent too, vast as a ballroom and searingly white, but it’s ceiling was dark. Metal looped down in tubes and wires, dangling like viscera. Mechanisms scaled up the walls and knotted their way to the back, connecting and coiling to a single point: a throne.

And in that throne, sat a man, a man that Villain knew. A man that everyone had known ten years ago.

“Superhero.” Villain whispered to himself. Down the long hall, Superhero’s head snapped up.

Villain took a step back from the door and felt the secret against his spine; it’s nails needled into his shoulders. It’s fetid, apple-skin breath warbled nothing and everything against the shell of his ear. Chased by murmurs, he stumbled forward. The door slammed shut and the resulting clang resounded, metallic and sharply damning, throughout the chamber.

Beneath Superhero’s gaze and the writhing mass of wire, he strode down to the dais which lofted Superhero and his throne, but did not take the final steps upward. He stood like a messenger, waiting for an address from his king.

“You found me.” Superhero spoke, his voice rough and crackling.

“I was led here.” Villain was almost compelled to kneel. Superhero’s presence rose and weighed down with a mountain’s might; Supervillain could scarcely hold a candle to the power Superhero held simply sitting.

“By who?”

“By a will far beyond my own.” As Villain spoke, he found the courage to observe Superhero directly. The tubes did not connect to the chair. Rather, they latched to Superhero’s bare shoulders like leeches, and twitched and shuddered as if swallowing, drawing something from Superhero’s skin.

In turn, Superhero observed Villain as well. “You possess an old strain of [magic]. It’s a wonder they haven’t found you yet.”

“It’s just an urge. It’s not [old magic].” Villain refuted. “There is no [old magic] anymore.”

Superhero thrashed upward, but moved little. Thick, gleaming chains bound his arms and legs to the throne. As Superhero’s power swelled and clawed at the walls of the chamber, Villain choked, and his skin burned into static pinpricks.

“The Organization runs off my [old magic]. It exists. They wield it.” Superhero seethed. “They feed off it like vultures.”

Villain found himself walking up the stairs. Though Superhero’s power roiled, it hung like a dark cloud: threatening, but not yet a storm. Intrinsically, Villain understood that it would not lash, that Superhero was incapable of unleashing it, and so, he approached. He wondered when he’d become so brash.

“The world believes you died in battle.” Up close, Superhero was pale and grey. Blue-black veins wormed out from where the tubes sunk into his skin, but despite his ill health, his skin held no crease and his hair was full, spilling down past his face. He appeared no different than his obituary photo, which had plagued channels and articles for months.

“They had to make sure no one would search for me.” Superhero breathed in and closed his eyes. “I doubt anyone would’ve bothered to try. [Organization Leader] convinced most of the Organization against my case, but you wouldn’t know,” he glanced at the emblem on Villain’s forearm, “you’re on the other side of things, aren’t you?”

Villain tucked his arm behind his back. “I’ve heard rumors. Before you died, they said you started questioning things. And that you’d grown cruel and that your power was corrupting you.”

“Corrupted?” Superhero laughed. His power pranced in the air. “I was only one who saw through the rot.”

His words reminded Villain of the foul air that turned within the building, that overripe and oozing bouquet only he could smell.

“Would you—,” Villain cleared his throat, “what would you do if you were freed?”

“I would deliver truth, deliver justice.” Superhero’s eyes gleamed. “You must know what I mean.”

Villain strolled forward, laid his hand over Superhero’s cuff, and felt the secret, shimmering and brassy, pulse within the metal. “And what would you give me? If I freed you?”

“Whatever remains of my wealth. Whatever I can obtain.” Superhero leaned forward. His tangled hair curtained wild, desperate eyes. “You have my service, my loyalty, my power—anything as long as it doesn’t interfere with my mission.”

“You’re exchanging one prison for another.” Villain dragged his hand from the cuff and placed it overtop Superhero’s arm, fingers curling into livid skin. Superhero let out a breath, something pitched, punched out from the back of his throat.

“If you allow me my revenge,” Superhero swore, “I am yours.”