#healing saliva trope | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thyme-in-a-bubble · 11 months ago

Text

the twinkle lights

lilac, chapter fifteen

a/n: yes that is lorelai gilmore in that moodboard and yes that scene those are screenshots from is partly the inspo for this chapter.

summary: “Yeah, sorry, it’s just a bit chaotic right now. The last of the guests just arrived and I haven’t even had time to go up and change yet. I’m still in fucking jeans.”

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, wedding, alcohol consumption (not by reader though), fluffy phone call

word count: 2049

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

previous chapter | series masterlist | next chapter

masterlist | join my taglist

As yet another heavy sigh flowed from your lips, you tried to force your tense shoulders to relax as you felt the steam, from the coffee cup centimetres away from your mouth, kiss your weary features.

Hidden away in the corner of the inn’s kitchen, you sat slumped on a small stool, the one usually tended for reaching the stuff in the upper cabinets. But just as you took your next sip, keeping it small so as to draw out the eventual emptiness and the fate that came with it, the doors swung open and in burst the rotund visage of Donna, all done up from the bottom of her clacking heals to the peals hanging low from around her neck.

“What’s up, sluts!” her booming voice caused your father to jump and the piping bag in his grasp to nearly slip, though the entrance didn’t affect the sheriff who leaned against the far counter. His gaze stayed directed out the window where rows of foldout chairs were half set up. The remaining bubbles in Donna’s slender, lipstick-stained glass sloshed around as her eyes beheld the towering cake standing on the central worktable. And like a child, the inebriated woman couldn’t keep her fingers to herself as she reached out and swiped her finger through one of the swirly flowers piped around the tiers, “uh! Yum!”

But before she could bring the treat up to her lips, Harvey’s hand tapped over hers as he snapped, “no! Don’t you even dare!” raising up a finger and waving it in her face as he warned, “I have been working on this all week and I will not let you ruin it the last second!”

“Urgh, Harv, you’re so uptight, darling,” she rolled her eyes then held out her champagne flute, “here, why don’t you have a little glass of bubbly to calm your nerves?”

“Donna, just–,” you could almost make out the steam that spewed out of his ears, “get out of my kitchen! The rest of the night you’re not allowed in here or else–… or else…” he rapidly lost all of his gumption as he struggled and improvised a threat, “I’ll–… I’ll have Otto arrest you!”

Clearly not paying attention at all, Otto finally turned to face the rest as he overheard his name, “huh?” he raised his cosmopolitan up to his lips and took a small sip, “did you just say something about me?”

“Hah,” Donna laughed condescendingly, “sure he is, honey,” muttering as she sashayed around the kitchen table, “that’s funny�� Otto, arrest me, his best friend of nearly 40 years, that’s–, oh!” her murmuring came to a screeching halt as she rounded the cake and your obscured figure came into her field of vision, “Y/n! There you are, you naughty, naughty girl! I heard a scrumptious little rumour that you were swapping saliva with a certain lumberjack in the Lilac Inn’s very own lobby just a few days ago… so, tell me, is he as great as I’d imagine?”

Exhaling lowly, you didn’t have the energy to humour her, “I thought you said you’d help with the decorations.”

“Oh, I persuaded a few of the groomsmen to finish up the final touches for me.”

“You–, okay, alright, sure…” you begrudgingly took the last drink of your coffee and set it down on the table, “I give up.”

Turning to the small-town sheriff and causing her party dress to swoosh in the process, Donna smirked, “hey, did you see the groom’s uncle? The bald one? I heard he’s recently divorced… you wanna go hunt him down?”

With the hand not clutching his pink drink, Otto linked arms with Donna and said, “sure, why not,” before the eccentric duo disappeared out the side door that led into the garden.

With now only yourself and your father remaining in the kitchen, you puffed out a long exhale before pulling yourself up to your feet, the soles aching slightly from how much you’d been running around.

“You alright, pumpkin?” Harvey lifted his gaze from his crouched position next to the tall dessert, bending over so close that his moustache nearly touched it as he kept a close eye on the whimsical patterns he slowly decorated on the white wedding cake.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you sighed, patting his shoulder gently as you passed, “just wish I had time for a longer break… wish me luck.”

“Good luck!” he called after you before you pushed the doors to the dining room open.

The wall of noise hit you at once as you exited the kitchen, like running straight into a brick building. It was like a storm of music and loud conversations all throughout the packed inn. Willing your fists to unclench, you tried to prolong the purposely deep breaths you’d focused on just minutes before.

Casting your glance out the tall windows, you spotted a few men, half in their suits, the jackets thrown off and the cuffs rolled up, stringing up twinkle lights from one tree to another. Swiftly, your gaze travelled further down and zeroed in on the set tables before you, across the neatly folded napkins and the various names on the place cards, one of the centrepieces especially caught your tense eye. Because of the immense stress you were already enduring, the slight askew nature of the vase, of both white and pastel purple lilacs you’d cut just this morning, made you feel as if drawing in a proper breath was the most difficult thing in the world.

Rushing to adjust it, even if it was just an inch, it still managed to bring a minuscule bubble of peace to your mind, sadly one that swiftly burst when two kids stormed through the room, one of them waving a sear piece of white cloth of his head. Promptly discerning what precisely it was they were playing with, you caught them right before they managed to rush back out of there.

“Wow!” you held them by the shoulders and kneeled down to be at their level, “hey, you two,” you tried your hardest to lighten your tone, “you mind giving that veil to me?”

“No, it’s mine!” the small boy clutched it to his chest.

“Okay, uhm,” you sighed, trying not to lose your patience in front of these children, come off as some scary fairy-tale witch and make them cry, “how about you give me this so that I can return it to Emma and then I tell you where the secret, magic swing is?”

“A magic swing?” the slightly taller girl’s eyes grew wide, “where?”

“It’s gonna cost you if you wanna know,” you held out your hand.

“Hmm,” the young boy squinted his eyes a moment before he cracked, “fine,” and gave you the veil, “where is it?”

“Behind the gazebo and in the direction of the pond,” you straightened back up and folded the accessories gently, “right there’s a huge tree with a swing on it.”

As they scurried off as fast as their little feet could take them, you turned and marched out into the lobby with your eye set on the grand staircase, but before your hand even reached the bannister, a frazzled man stopped you.

“Hey, miss?” however just as he called for you, the sound of your ringtone buzzed in your pocket, “miss?”

Fishing out your phone and not looking at the ID, you picked it up and briefly spoke into it, “hold on,” before twisting it away from your lips and turning to the mousy-looking man, “yes?”

Holding up a crisp white shirt, he pointed to one of the cuffs, “one of my buttons fell off and I–“

“Okay, hang on one second, I’ll find you a sewing kit. I just need to return this to the bride first,” you held up the veil.

“Alright, thanks,” he nodded and backed off into the sitting room to the side.

Beginning your ascend of the stairs, you turned your haphazard attention back to the phone, “hello?”

“Y/n?” Frank’s deep timbre flowed from the phone and seeped into your very core, “is this a bad time?”

Passing a few rowdy bridesmaids on the steps, they nearly bumped into you and caused you not to comprehend a single one of the words Frank had just said, “what?”

“I asked if this is a bad time,” he repeated as you reached the top of the steps, but as you did, the shrill wail of a baby, cradled in its mother’s arms, pierced your very soul.

“I–, uhm, what?” you whipped your head around and spotted the hall closet off to the side, “I’m sorry, just one second,” and rushed to duck into it. The thin wall didn’t manage to drown out all of the noise, but it did get quiet enough for you to finally hear yourself think again. Switching on the dull lightbulb, “fuck…” you let yourself slide down the length of the door till you sat on the floor, “there,” you exhaled slowly, “hi, now I can hear you. What’s up?”

“Are you alright over there?”

“Yeah, sorry, it’s just a bit chaotic right now,” resting the veil in your lap, you stretched out your legs, “the last of the guests just arrived and I haven’t even had time to go up and change yet. I’m still in fucking jeans.”

“Sweetheart, it’s you,” his smile shined clear through in his low voice, “you could easily pull off wearing jeans to a wedding if you’d like.”

Feeling the corners of your lips gently tug upwards at his words, you breathed out, “so, did you just call to talk about the fact that I’m still in jeans and not the jaw-dropping green dress I got, or was there something else you wanted?”

“I just called to check in, see how you were holding up, but also to make sure you’re still up for tonight.”

Letting your spine rest back against the door, you shared, “honestly, the thought of going over to yours as soon as this is all over and they don’t need me anymore is the only thing getting me through the day without having a fucking meltdown…”

Letting a low sigh flow from his lips, you heard him ask, “you sure you don’t need me to get over there?”

“You’re sweet, but no, it’s alright,” you smiled, your fingers gently fiddling with the veil, “actually, it’s probably good that you’re not here. With the way Donna’s already enjoying herself with the champagne, you might end up as her next husband before the couple says I do.”

“Oh,” he swiftly mirrored the laugh that bubbled out of you, “well in that case.”

After the chuckling had died back down, you tried your best to sink into the quiet completely and enjoy the fleeting pause his phone call had granted you.

After the moment of comfortable silence had come to a close, Frank’s voice flowed from the phone once more, “So, tell me,” the playful nature in his tone was still blatantly clear for you to pick up on, “just how jaw-dropping is that dress of yours?”

“Well,” you bit down on our grin, “I won’t be able to wear a bra with the kind of neckline that it has… and with the way that it falls on me, I might not be able to wear underwear as well,” that wasn’t true in the slightest, but he didn’t have to know if you’d slipped them off before you even put the dress on or mere moments before stepping out of the car to see him. The thought of him imagining you without them the entire night was far too enthralling not to entertain, “would be such a shame if the dress got ruined by distracting lines, wouldn’t it?”

As you heard him puff out a gravelly breath, “fuck me…sweetheart, you’re killing me here…” you simply giggled in return, “uhm, when was it again that you’ll be done?”

“Not completely sure, some time after dinner properly. I’ll send you a text when I head out.”

“Alright.”

“You want me to try and steal some cake with me? We might need a snack a little later…”

“Oh, yeah?” he chuckled, “you planning on working up an appetite, are you?”

#lea’s writing #lilac series #lumberjack!frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #the punisher fic #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher x reader #frank castle fluff #frank castle series #lumberjack au #frank castle hurt/comfort #frank castle angst

260 notes · View notes

sillyromance · 1 year ago

Text

Good day everyone!

So... There is my the very first ask game! Anyone who'd like to participate - you're absolutely welcome (don't be shy to make reblogs if you need). The only thing I beg for is: no more symbols than 3-4 at a time (if you reblog, you are free to set your own limits).

Take care and good luck!

Personal:

❗- discovering vore

🚩- orientation (pred/prey/switch etc.)

💘 - personal meaning

The tropes:

💗 - the most favourite trope

💔 - the least favourite trope

⚡- protective vore

❤️‍🩹 - comfort vore

🩹 - healing vore

💀 - fatal vore

🩷 - safe vore

🪷 - romantic vore (not sexual)

🥰 - willing vore

😫 - unwilling vore

Specific things:

🐯 - fearplay

🎉 - having fun/teasing

🐾 - chase

🎻 - musicians in vore

🧛‍♂️ - fictional characters as preds/preys (pirates, vampires, military men, cowboys etc.)

🎭 - roleplay

🩸- reformation

🦴 - digestion

Types of preds/preys:

🐍 - naga preds/preys

🐲 - dragon preds/preys

🐬 - ocean preds/preys (mermaid/merman)

🤖 - robot preds/preys

🧸 - gentle preds/preys

🦈 - cruel preds/preys

❓ - unbothered preds/preys

Physical aspects:

🦷 - teeth

👅 - tongues

💦 - slime/saliva

🫁 - internals

❄️ - body temperature

🌺 - smell

🍭 - taste

🌵 - texture

🪶 - sensations

👄 - communication

👀 - appearance

#extreme cuddling #ask game #vore game

295 notes · View notes

thecreaturecodex · 3 months ago

Text

Kami, Oxter

Image accessed at the Ultraman Wiki here

[I'm back! It's the start of a new school year, so I've been busy busy busy. I do hope to return to my summer schedule of one new monster a week.

And what a monster we start with! Oxter is one of the weirder designs in Return of Ultraman, but has connections to Ultra kaiju before and after. The plot of the episode, and Oxter's acidic powers, feels a lot like Stegon, who I've already statted up here. And the same author who wrote this episode wrote an episode of Ultraman Ace with another bovine kaiju, Cowra. The Cowra episode is notable not for the powers or appearance of the kaiju, which are fairly sedate by the standards of Ultraman Ace. But the way a character turns slowly into Cowra feels like it started out as transformation fetish porn, and then was repurposed into a kid's show about a giant silver alien/angel who punches monsters. The "writer's barely disguised fetish" trope goes way back.]

Kami, Oxter CR 19 N Outsider (native) This creature’s head resembles that of a cow, but its anatomy otherwise bears little resemblance to ordinary animals. It is bipedal, with a thick slug-like tail and stumpy legs. Its back has a high bony hump, and its head is set low on its shoulders. Instead of arms, it has large red horns, which articulate on jointed stumps. Its ears stick out at a wide angle, and a ribbon-like tongue flickers in its tusked mouth

An oxter is a bizarre kami that guards a site of mass animal death and protects their remains from desecration and disrespect. They can be found in any natural environment, from tar pits and volcanic craters to water holes that had dried up at an inopportune time. Oxters do not care much for the reasons their ward might be disturbed and respond to any disturbances with violence. From wizards seeking out supplies for necromancy or golem construction, to scientists studying the natural processes that occurred at the site, all are likely to find themselves subject to the oxter’s destructive scrutiny.

Oxters are slow and cumbersome on land, but they are surprisingly mobile in the water. As such, they often remain stationary and probe out disturbances using their supernaturally long tongues, which can extend for hundreds of feet. These tongues are coated in corrosive saliva, and anyone who gets close to an oxter will be sprayed by a torrent of acid. An oxter’s melee weapons are its horns, which are capable of surprising mobility and can strike repeatedly at multiple targets as if they were swords. Oxters have few spell-like abilities in comparison to other kami, but can use magic to move through impeding terrain or to smite interlopers in a particularly desperate battle. An oxter will fight to the death to protect their ward.

Because of their association with mass mortality events, oxters and stegons can be found in association with each other. Stegons are the only undead creatures oxters will tolerate, and the kami see such assemblages as a natural consequence of particularly serious disturbances. Oxters will permit other creatures to live in their wards, even sapient ones, as long as they respect the peace of the dead who lie there. They rarely associate with other kami unless their wards overlap, but in such cases the oxters tend to defer to their more intelligent kin, even if they are much physically weaker.

Kami, Oxter CR 19 XP 204,800 N Colossal outsider (kami, native) Init +9; Senses blindsense 60 ft., darkvision 60 ft., Perception +26

Defense AC 34, touch 7, flat-footed 29(-8 size, +5 Dex, +27 natural) hp 330 (20d10+220); fast healing 15 Fort +19, Ref +19, Will +17 DR 15/cold iron and magic; Immune acid,bleed, mind-influencing effects, petrifaction, polymorph; Resist electricity 10, fire 10; SR 30

Offense Speed 40 ft., swim 80 ft. Melee gore +26/+21/+16/+11 (4d6+13), bite +24 (4d6+6 plus 2d6 acid) or gore +24/+24/+19/+19/+14/+14/+9 (4d6+13), bite +24 (4d6+6 plus 2d6 acid) or tongue +26 (2d8+13 plus 4d6 acid plus grab) Space 30 ft.; Reach 30 ft. (20 ft. with bite, 60 ft. with tongue) Special Attacks breath weapon (120 ft. cone, 20d6 acid, Ref DC 31, 1d4 rounds), constrict (2d8+19 plus 4d6 acid), extensible tongue (AC 23, 33 hp), trample (2d8+19, Ref DC 33) Spell-like Abilities CL 19th, concentration +23 3/day—commune with nature, freedom of movement, undeath to death (DC 21) 1/day—quickened divine power

Statistics Str 36, Dex 21, Con 32, Int 9, Wis 20, Cha 21Base Atk +20; CMB +41 (+45 grab); CMD 56 Feats Blind Fight, Double Slice, Great Fortitude, Greater Two-Weapon Fighting, Improved Initiative, Improved Two-Weapon Fighting, Multiattack, Quicken SLA (divine power), Two-Weapon Fighting, Weapon Focus (gore) Skills Knowledge (nature) +16, Perception +26, Sense Motive +22, Survival +22, Swim +37; Racial Bonuses +4 Perception, +4 Swim Languages Senzar, telepathy 100 ft. SQ articulated horns, merge with ward, ward (animal graveyard of 4 square km or less)

Ecology Environment any Organization solitary Treasure incidental

Special Abilities Horns (Ex) The horns of an oxter are capable of making iterative attacks as if they were manufactured weapons. An oxter can fight with both horns in the same turn as if using two manufactured weapons (and most oxters take Two Weapon Fighting and other feats for this purpose). In any round in which an oxter makes a melee attack with its articulated horns, it treats its other natural weapons as secondary natural attacks. Extensible Tongue (Ex/Su) An oxter treats its tongue as a primary natural attack that deals bludgeoning damage. It can make attacks with a reach of 60 feet ordinarily, but if the oxter spends a move action, it can extend its tongue 60 feet. It can continue to spend move actions to keep extending its tongue at a rate of 60 feet per round to a maximum of 1200 feet long. The tongue can attack around corners and even enter buildings; if the oxter cannot see what it’s attacking, the tongue can use the oxter’s blindsense. An oxter cannot use its tongue as a weapon in a round where it attacks with other natural weapons. The oxter’s tongue has hit points equal to 1/10 the oxter, and an AC of 10 + ½ the oxter’s natural armor bonus. It uses the oxter’s saving throws, resistances and immunities if attacked separately. The oxter’s tongue can make Stealth checks as a Medium creature, and is five feet in diameter. If an oxter’s tongue is reduced to 0 hp, it is shed, and the oxter grows a new tongue over the course of the next 24 hours.

#pathfinder 1e #kami #oxter #native outsider #ultraman #return of ultraman #kaiju #bovine

30 notes · View notes

breathlessheartbeat · 1 year ago

Text

Big Healer, Little Nurse

Every so often I remember I made this to be a writing blog. I made this to fit a prompt of "incompetent rescuer", which is one of my favorite tropes. When they WANT to be better but can't and know this will have consequences?

Anyway, this might have a part 2 bc I can't keep anything short.

------

He was big, her healer.

It scared people, his size. They were used to healers being meek women, driven to healing magic to save their children or to make some money on the side to support their homes. No one expected a man over 2 meters tall to have such a gentle way with healing wounds and calming pains.

Joan herself had been rescued by him two years prior. She didn't remember much about her previous life - and what she did was painful and scary to recall. She had been found in the wood, half frozen to death, body full of bruises. Thaddeus had nursed her back to health painfully slow. Back then she felt like she would never fully come back, but he never gave up on her.

Once she was better, she made herself useful, hoping that would mean she got to stay. She cleaned and organized his chaotic home and office. He had been surprised, as if he didn't expect someone to notice he had a hard time with his own messy habits, let alone help him with it. She cooked and took food for him when he was out on house calls because he often forgot to eat. She stood by him and helped with his tools and ingredients when he needed.

So he let her stay. He taught her what he could, but she really had no way with magic. She learned about human medicine, about how a body works and what it needs to be balanced and healthy.

Two years from the day he found her in the woods to the day she found him.

He had been travelling to the next village over the entire week, leaving her in charge of their own village. After making the usual rounds making sure no one was in need of help, she had gone to the woods to gather herbs. That was when she saw him, lying face down on the road. She didn't need to see his face to know. He looked like a mountain had just fallen over.

Joan rushed to his side, calling his name, turning him over to his back. His tanned skin was pale, his lips bluish, a low gurgling coming up from his throat each time he breathed. Little droplets of foam were hanging from the sides of his mouth. She tapped his face, trying to get him to rouse. When he didn't, she undid the ties on his shirt, exposing the top part of his chest and rubbing his sternum. Still nothing.

She opened his mouth. A foul smell came out and his gums were clearly discolored. He had been poisoned. He was probably on his way to this wood, where a lot of antidotes grew. Why would anyone do such a thing to him? He had never done anything but help...

Worried about his bluish lips, she touched her mouth to his and sent a few breaths of air down his throat. He coughed and gagged and she pulled away, moving his head to the side so the foam and saliva could drain out.

"Tad..." She called, rubbing his chest again. "What's the poison? I can't administer the antidote if I don't know..."

His eyes fluttered, but didn't open, only the whites showing inside. She opened one eyelid, and saw his pupils still react to the sunlight above. Good.

She pushed her fingers against his carotid to feel for his pulse. It was weak and erratic, a terrible combination.

Joan took a deep breath. She couldn't do anything in the middle of the road. She had to bring him home, to their tools and their medicine. But leaving to get someone seemed impossible. He couldn't be left alone in this state. She had to do it herself.

Bracing, she pushed his shoulder upward to sit him down. Even this effort got her sweating. He was out cold, his head lolling back. There was no way she was going to be able to lift him over the shoulder like he had taught her to do with someone larger than her.

"You're going to be okay. You're going to be okay."

She told herself even if her eyes were filling up with tears. She got up and held him under his armpits, starting to drag him back through the road. His troubled breathing was a constant in her ears as she sweated and sweated under the sun to pull him centimeter by gods damned centimeter.

Joan hadn't even gotten halfway home when he gagged, heaving. Foam had consistently been dripping through his mouth thorough the process, but it had stopped now. Moaning in distress, Joan placed him down again and kneeled at his back, holding him around the waist. She needed to clear his lungs or he wouldn't make it to the house.

Remembering his strong hands showing her the placement, she found the spot just above his belly button to push upwards. Nothing came out the first few tries, her arms too puny to make enough pressure. But on the third try, a spurt of foam came out and Thaddeus gasped, his entire body shaking. He was warm now and she suspected it wasn't the sun above.

Joan helped him breathe a couple more times since they had stopped. He looked like death now, his pallor growing lighter and lighter and his lips bluer.

"We're almost there." She assured him (or herself) before closing her arms around him and starting to pull him back to their cottage again.

But his breathing didn't get better and neither did his shaking. Eventually, he started gasping loudly, no sound of air coming out. They were only about twenty steps from the house, but her arms gave out as she put him down on the dirt floor.

"Please, breathe." She begged, pressing more air down his throat. His chest lifted but needed help falling. She had to press on it for the air to come rushing out, along with more viscous saliva and darkened foam. "That's not good."

The noise kept coming from his throat, not matter her efforts. She was about to keep breathing for him when she had half a mind to look for his pulse again.

"But they were breathing," she remembered saying after a particuarly bad night where they had lost a patient.

"No. Their body was trying to breathe, but the air wasn't sticking to the lungs." Tad had said, shaking his head.

No beat pressed against her fingers. She pressed harder and harder, sure she was wrong. He was just big, maybe his heart was taking longer. She laid her head on his chest. Nothing.

"No, no, no!"

She put her hands to his chest and started pressing down. Her arms were already shaking from dragging him there and almost buckled when she pushed down not nearly enough. She wiped the sweat off of her forehead and tried again. Each time, she got a little further, but she knew it wasn't enough.

"Damn it, Tad!" She straddled him. That made it easier, but not less challenging. She either didn't press hard enough or kept the wrong rhythm. Tears were streaming down her face as she gave it her all. This couldn't happen, not like this.

She stopped at 30 like had instructed and delivered a trio of breaths. Agonal sounds escaped him as she pushed his chest so the air could escape. Taking advantage of her position, she laid his head to the side and pushed on his abdomen, trying to clear his lungs. The popping of bubbles in the foam would haunt her dreams and the stench of the dark liquid would never allow her to feel clean again.

Another cycle. Another failure to keep the minimum. She couldn't keep this for long. She used to let him do this, they only traded placed on in a while in very long resuscitations... she really should have been better at this.

She had lost track of how many cycles she had done when he gasped again. Her hand went to his neck. His heartrate was too fast, but was there. That was all she needed. A chance.

Joan rushed into the cottage, grabbing all of the antidote shelf. She had had time to catalog his symptoms enough to have an idea of what this could be. The bad smell, affecting the lungs, the darkening of his saliva... Running to him again, she opened his mouth and rubbed a couple of leaves of ancient berry bush in his gums as he gasped and heaved. She delivered a few more breaths to him. The antidote wasn't a quick one, but it would work. She just needed time.

Since his heart was still unwell, she tried her hand at pacing him again, pushing his chest another two rounds of half assed compressions. As her arms shook with exhaustion and she herself felt a pang in her own chest, she gave up. She was probably doing more harm than good.

The smell in his mouth was better, but foam kept coming up, his lungs probably too overtaken.

Still straddling him, she crushed the antidote eaves until they let out their goop and dilluted it in salline. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She couldn't miss and she couldn't hold back. This could be his only chance of making the next hour.

So she touched his chest, looking for the right placenent, took a deep breath and insirted the syringe right into this heart, releasing the liquid directly in there before pulling the syringe out.

Joan took the last of her strenght to give a few compressions more to get the antidote running. She rolled off of him, lying on the dirt. He was still gasping, still shaking from his fever, but she could feel his heartbeat on his wrist when she held it between her fingers.

5 seconds and she would drag him inside and wait for him to recover. Just... 5 more seconds.

#resus story #resus

92 notes · View notes

the-pen-pot · 10 months ago

Note

Hello! Hope you are finding your recent writing time fun and prolific! I had a question about your Merlin fics, which is: for a returning fan (or for new fans, while we are at it), which fic of yours do you recommend starting with?

Thank you!

Hi lovely!

This is a tricky one. Honestly, it depends what you're looking for. Here are three of varying lengths that might be a good place to start to get an idea of my writing, the tropes I prefer, that sort of thing! (All of these are complete)

Convivial (2k)

Generally speaking, Uther did not tolerate his nobles meddling with the servants. It was more because he thought such behaviour beneath his courtiers rather than out of any regard for the safety and happiness of the castle staff. Still, the King did not have eyes everywhere, and his various lords and ladies took the view that what Uther didn't know couldn't hurt them. That was how he found himself here, pinned into an alcove in one of the hallways by Lord Bancroft. The cold stone of the castle wall dug into his back as the lord's body pressed against his front from shoulder to hip, all hard muscle and harder... other things. Merlin is propositioned, Arthur intervenes.

Deliquesce (15k)

The creatures stepped forward, long, narrow muzzles agape. The sun did not deter them, merely setting their subtle scales agleam. Thick saliva dripped from their jaws, smattering on the ground, yet they did not lunge forward to strike. Instead, they waited, their gaze unblinking as they stared. At first, Arthur thought they watched the knights, but when he shifted his stance, their eyes did not follow him, Instead, it was someone behind him who held them captivated. Merlin. A chance encounter with a monster in the woods makes Arthur realise just how powerful Merlin's magic is, and the lengths he would go to in order to keep him safe.

Distance Without Remedy (60k)

'Be out of the city of Camelot by sunrise, or so help me, you will burn.' ------ When Merlin confesses the truth of his magic to Arthur, he finds himself exiled from Camelot. He intends never to return to Arthur's side, but destiny is not so easily defeated. Can he and Arthur heal the rift that has yawned between them, or will they both suffer the consequences of destiny's displeasure? (AKA: Merlin and Arthur get shoved into the magical equivalent of a "getting along" shirt because they're idiots.)

Of course, if you really fancy just jumping into it with both feet, then Sorcerer's Bane is my 250k+ complete, balm-to-my-soul fic!

Hope that helps!

#Merlin #Merthur #My Fanfic

23 notes · View notes

abellyfulloffriends · 1 year ago

Note

hello my star~ it’s time for some asks! 🎉💘👄🥰👅

Hiiii~ Got some good answers for ya!

🎉-Having fun/Teasing

Oooh Yeah! Good Trope, Interpreted two ways:

Playing fun games or activities together where the prey gets nommed either as reward for winning or a “punishment” for losing. Teasing goes hand in hand, egging each other on for the duration of the challenge daring the other to mess up, or even losing on purpose.

Another way to see it, flirtatious teasing. Complimenting one another on their qualities of being pred/prey. Prey being teased about their taste or fillingness or their squirming. Preds being teased about their hunger, and noises.

Favorite teasing trope of all time though is a loud tummy growling, to which the Pred uses as ammo is tease the ever loving heck of their prey with, “Sounds like I’m hungry~”

Cute Fun!

🥰-Willing Vore

Ahh yes, Consent! Such a wild concept but no, genuinely I love when willing vore is explicitly stated to be willing. Like, “Yes, you can swallow me, I trust you.” It scratches that special itch about knowing that both parties are in control and that everyone is happy. Something about hearing a prey’s desire to be safely eaten is so heartwarming

Safety Warm!

👅-Tongues

I’m so normal about thisI’m so normal about thisI’m so normal about thisI’M SO NORMAL ABOU-

Ahem.

Right, uhh Yeah! Tongues are so fricken awesome. Very very warm and incredibly soft with fun textures and the wet warmth of saliva. Very strong muscles to toss prey around inside the mouth. Licks are great, and some tongues are quite thick and warm. Did I mention they’re soft?

Tongue Good…

👄-Communication

Interpreted as physical communication, as in: “There is too much muscle and fat and you can’t hear me in here.” So so much, yes!

This is where knocks and pre-established signals come in handy. A kick here to indicate the prey’s satisfaction. Or like the Pred rubbing their stomach to remind the prey they haven’t been forgotten about. Also for when both parties go nonverbal and need to communicate their feelings by all the rubbing and kneading.

Softly Spoken.

💘-Personal Meaning

Saved this one for last. On a serious note,

Vore on a personal level is a coping mechanism for trauma. It helps me feel in control over myself and decisions. It helps me feel safe with myself. It helps me feel safe with others I deeply trust. It gives me a way to feel wanted and seen and protected and remembered. It’s a way to get all things I never had, and importantly it has given me everything I wanted. My interest in Vore opened so many doors and it means alot to indulge in some safe wholesome fun to help me cope with my needs and heal. Vore is such a great tool in my arsenal and I wouldn’t be the amazing person I am without it.

I love you, Sunshine.

#safe vore #nonsexual vore #ask game #thanks for the ask!#personal sappy stuff under cut #really had fun!#amazing ask!

9 notes · View notes

thethistlegirlwrites · 10 months ago

Note

Is your character…okay?

What’s the first thing you decided about your character? What’s something you still haven’t decided about them?

What’s the line between right and wrong for your character? How moral do they consider themself?

Who would your character give anything to be reunited with?

Are your character’s hands warm, or cold? Does it bother them? Do they ever make them someone else’s problem?

What gets your character up in the morning?

What kind of naming scheme does your character use for pets/kids/other nameable things? Do they care about names? Do they take it seriously, or go silly?

What is your character’s idea of comfort food? What about comfort media, or their go-to de-stress situation/company?

Does your character believe in love at first sight? How would they handle most cute relationship tropes?

For Dom... er, Nico

Thank you for the ask!

Is your character…okay? Not really. While Nico has successfully managed to get his vampire hunger under control, owns a cleaning company that offers employment to vampires, and is helping with Chimera's mentorship program and has already helped two fledglings get their lives back on track, his personal life is still something of a mess. He rarely sees his wife, only when he travels back to New York to replenish his home earth, and his son is still estranged from him even five years after his turn.

What’s the first thing you decided about your character? What’s something you still haven’t decided about them? The first thing I knew about Nico was that he was going to be an Italian vampire. That much I can tell from a note on my phone dated July 4, 2021. I had written down the line "He's an Italian vampire. And yes, he knows exactly how ridiculous that makes his life." When I needed to create a mentor OC for Joey, it just FIT. What I haven't decided is what exactly happened that finally pushed Nico to leave New York. I haven't quite decided how the showdown between him and his former hunter friend went, or what the outcome was for the hunter.

What’s the line between right and wrong for your character? How moral do they consider themself? Nico isn't quite sure where that line is himself. He used to be driven by hunting down and killing vampires, but now that he is one, he wants to keep his un-life. He struggled for a long time to come to terms with becoming the kind of thing he used to hate, and he's slightly more at peace with himself now, at least enough to help other vampires sort themselves out, but he has a former hunter's issues with morality to contend with. The line he refuses to cross is drinking blood from a human directly. He's done it only once, accidentally. The other times, he's either stolen bagged blood or found humans willing to draw off some of their own. He's stubborn about drinking human blood at the best of times, even when he needs it to heal himself, but he never wants to actually bite anyone again, mostly because of how traumatic the first experience was, but also because he doesn't want to run the risk of infecting anyone, or even drugging them with the vampire saliva.

Who would your character give anything to be reunited with? His son. Nico would trade everything he's built in his un-life in order to get Ricky back in it. After the disastrous post-turn experience for both of them, Nico isn't sure there's any way to earn his son's trust back, not as long as he's still a vampire, because it's entirely possible his son, raised in the hunter world, will only ever see him as a dangerous monster.

Are your character’s hands warm, or cold? Does it bother them? Do they ever make them someone else’s problem? They are always cold, or at least feel cold to a human. Vampires don't generate their own body heat, so they always adapt to the ambient air temperatures. Before he meets potential new clients of his cleaning company, Nico always uses hand-warmers, because most contracts also involve a handshake in the bargain and even people who know they're going to be hiring a vampire and are doing it willingly tend to get a little creeped out by dead hands.

What gets your character up in the morning? (Technically, in the evening, but...) Helping other vampires. There have only been a few months of his life in LA that Nico hasn't had a mentee. The first few while he was getting his company started, and the occasional gap between cases he's handed, but other than that, he's always got someone else he's responsible for and looking out for. That's what keeps him going. He knows his own life is a mess, but that doesn't matter so much when at least he can help other people sort theirs out.

What kind of naming scheme does your character use for pets/kids/other nameable things? Do they care about names? Do they take it seriously, or go silly? Nico usually leaves the naming of anything up to other people. He calls a lot of random objects 'that thing' or 'whatever that is', less because he can't remember what it's called and more because he knows whoever he's talking to knows what it is. He's not particularly good with names in general, and his wife named their son.

What is your character’s idea of comfort food? What about comfort media, or their go-to de-stress situation/company? When he was human, Nico's comfort food used to be his family's Italian wedding soup. Now, he'll occasionally make the broth to add to a packet of Synth-blood. Nico is fondest of music as comfort media. He's mildly dyslexic, so reading was never a big part of his life, and he watched a lot of cartoons with his kid when he was home, so the music he played in the car on hunts is what he is fondest of. He likes instrumental covers of pop songs best, especially when they get creative with it. The people he's most comfortable de-stressing with are few and far between. He tries not to unload his problems on his mentees, although he usually does tell them about the situation he's in to give them a little insight into how much he does understand their situations with their families. Occasionally, he'll talk to Maira about some things, but it's usually mentor program related. He more often pulls back into himself, taking a little time on his own to get himself back together and be ready to face whatever the issue is again.

Does your character believe in love at first sight? How would they handle most cute relationship tropes? Nico believes more in a love that's built. He married his high school sweetheart he'd known for four years, and he was honest with her about his work even when that was frowned upon as she wasn't directly involved with the hunter community herself. Nico was as attentive and caring as it was possible to be given the work life he had, and they were able to make it work because Vanessa had grown up in an Air Force family and was used to the life of secrets and long separations. She refused to break up with him when he died and turned, and while they have some distance between them literally and metaphorically, she insists they stay together at least until Ricky graduates college, in the hopes that they can get their family back to some semblance of what they had.

(For Dom... er, Nico) I know, picking his nickname was a tossup between those...

From this ask game...

#original character #domenico pontevecchio #vampire

5 notes · View notes

weerd1 · 10 months ago

Text

ENT Rewatch Starlog, 15 January, 2024: Episode 3.03 “Extinction”

A humanoid alien is pursued through a jungle by other humanoids in environmental protection suits. He almost makes it to a shuttle before they surround him and incinerate him with flamethrowers.

Trip goes to T’Pol’s quarters having missed two neuro-pressure sessions. He offers her some of his Georgia peaches he stocked up on before leaving Earth, and insists she try one.

They are interrupted when Archer calls T’Pol to the situation room. He’s been reviewing the Xindi database and has discovered a third Xindi species, the Arboreals. He also has found a nearby uninhabited planet which the Xindi have visited in the last few weeks.

Archer, T’Pol, Hoshi Sato, and Malcolm Reed head to the surface where they find the Xindi landing craft and an incinerated body; the body is NOT reading as Xindi, and shortly, neither are Archer, Reed, or Sato. They have mutated into the same type of humanoid incinerated by the hunters. T’Pol has started to transform, but only suffers some minor physical changes and is still aware of who she it. The other three believe themselves to be a different species, and want to find what they believe to be their city, Urquat.

Phlox figures out some of what’s going on from orbit, and Tucker takes a shuttlepod down to recover the crew they believe have been altered by the Expanse somehow. After a struggle, they get Reed back to the ship, but T’Pol stays to try and care for Archer and Sato as much as she can. Phlox studies Reed and realizes it is a virus that has rewritten his physiognomy, and that T’Pol’s Vulcan biology should make her immune. They need her DNA to synthesize a cure. Trip remembers the peach she took a bite of, and with that saliva, Phlox goes to work.

Another ship approaches and warns Enterprise that they’ve been fighting this virus for six decades and the only cure is eradication. They intend to kill everyone exposed. Tucker manages to convince them T’Pol is immune, so the aliens send a team to the surface to capture her but still burn Archer and Sato. Meanwhile, Primal-Archer has found the city Urquat which is now just rubble. The virus was designed as the only way to propagate a species that was otherwise facing extinction. The kill team finds them, but Tucker and a MACO risk the transporter to intercept them and get the crew back to Enterprise.

The ship flees, pursued by the alien guardians, but a recovering Archer and Hoshi are able to convince them there is a cure. They share it with the guardians.

As they are healing, Phlox says he will destroy the samples of the virus. Archer stops him, mentioning that they came into the Expanse to save their species, and that virus is all that’s left of another one; he won’t be party to destroying them. Phlox puts the sample in stasis.

I didn’t realize how hated this episode apparently is. To me, it’s perhaps a little hokey in places, but is a fine retelling of a repeated Trek trope. This calls back to Geordie on TNG being altered into another race in “Identity Crisis” (making it fitting that Levar Burton, saying he’s “ashamed” of “Extinction” or not, directed this episode). There are aspects of “Genesis” from TNG with the reversed evolution to a more primal state, or even “Masks” with what’s left of a now extinct civilization trying to preserve itself. Both of those are of course Brannon Braga episodes of TNG, but this one was written by science advisor Andre Bormanis. I’m willing to say though that this theme reaches back to the Original Series episode “All Our Yesterdays,” where Spock, thrown 5000 years into the past, begins to lose the civilized tendencies of Vulcans because they were savage then; does it make a lot of sense? Know, but can make for fun performances and that’s what I feel we get here. What’s not to love about Primal-Archer and Primal-Reed fighting over who gets to eat a giant egg filled with grub worms? (In the end they shared, kind of sweet.)

Archer’s decision NOT to destroy the virus because maybe someday the species that made it CAN live again is a pretty great step for a man who almost put someone out an airlock the episode before. A nice reminder that despite the dire situation, the point of Star Trek is that even then the better nature of Humanity CAN exist, and indeed should. Star Trek in that way is always relevant.

Next Voyage: The NX-01 crew faces what in espionage terms is referred to as the “honey pot” in “Rajiin.

(Images taken from the main website for @trekcore; I am happy to remove the images if asked.)

#star trek #star trek enterprise #Xindi Saga #Enterprise #Enterprise Season 3 #Enterprise Rewatch

4 notes · View notes

0nelittlebirdtoldme · 2 years ago

Text

Drabble - Healing

Written for @amonthofwhump March Trope-a-Thon

No. 4 Fantasy Magical Exhaustion | Wing Whump | Wish Gone Wrong | Comf: Magical Healing

Read on Ao3

Text under cut: Mild NSFW warning

He whimpers, his head lolling back, everything a blurry mess, his toes curling. Another moan escapes him, breathlessly.

Dracula’s touch is nothing compared to the sharp, throbbing sensation along the side of his throat, aching and raw. More blood gushes onto the bedding, when he bites deeper, harder. Then, there's a tongue going over massacred flesh, licking over it, and the open wound knits itself together again.

Tingling, healing, within the blink of an eye, due to the vampire’s saliva, intense and intimate and hot.

And he just cannot -

Jonathan cries out, spilling in his hand.

Dracula does it again.

#amow tropeathon 2023 #magical healing #nsfwhump #dracula #dracula x jonathan harker #drabble #my fic

8 notes · View notes

llitchilitchi · 2 years ago

Note

OH that is so cool i love that i have so many questions about vampire logistics pskshshs

like does it feel different for dream when george or sapnap drink from him eith the different fang length? does he prefer one to the other?

how do vampires fit into society are they expected to work? do they pay taxes? how do sapnap and george have a house? is there like medical records of them and stuff?

does he tell people hes a supernatural sugar baby or is that like frowned upon?

do sap and george have other vampire stuff?? like not seeing reflections and turning into bats and only being able to enter buildings when invited in?

ooh also are they all in love or is it platonic drramnotnap (im not sure but i love both both are good)?

thats all for now !! i hope its not too many, sorry if so!! feel free to skip any or not answer at all if theyre spoilery or too silly spsksksj

be safe have a good day !!

buckle up this one will be long :D (also anon, the phrase "supernatural sugar baby" made me wheeze uncontrollably)

does it feel different for dream when george or sapnap drink from him eith the different fang length? does he prefer one to the other?

in short, yeah! it feels different, and both have certain advantages and disadvantages.

with George's fangs being shorter, there is never a need to worry that he could bite too deep, so when George feeds from him, especially from the neck, it's a lot easier, not to mention the bite marks heal much faster (and while Dream would deny it, he has a slight preference to George because his pain tolerance is terrible.)

on the other hand, Sapnap's fangs, if he gets carried away, leave deeper wounds that take much longer to heal and are the main reason why Dream's often seen with gauze/bandaids on his neck after a feeding session. Sapnap has to be a lot more gentle with him because of that, but Dream appreciates being treated like a princess.

I really like the headcanon(?) that vampires have something in their saliva that helps the bite inflicted wounds heal quicker, so when the two finish they make sure to lick the wounds clean to help speed up the healing process.

last but not least, I think it's important to mention that while the two leave marks behind, they are rarely anything worse than, say, a papercut, or a cut one might get while cooking. that's not to say that they don't possess the strength that would allow them to clamp down and possibly tear Dream's throat out, if they really wanted to, with their supernatural strength.

how do vampires fit into society are they expected to work? do they pay taxes? how do sapnap and george have a house? is there like medical records of them and stuff?

I think I mentioned it before, but Sapnap and George are actually Really Fucking Old, with George pushing 200 years of age and Sapnap only 2-3 decades younger. they've known each other for a long time and they got a house together back in the 1890s with all of the newest technology available, like plumbing and electricity and all that good stuff, and they have not stopped renovating to keep up with the ages since. I couldn't help myself when the "vampire mansion" trope was just there for the taking, so yeah, the boys have a house, and it's quite something.

as of the rest, supernatural creatures (in this instance vampires, I vaguely remember considering involving were-creatures as well) coexist with humans. I'm not particularly comfortable (and definitely not qualified) writing fantasy racism, so this AU will definitely stay in the realms of "yeah they are just normal citizens, they just happen to be immortal and eat human blood, thankfully blood donations are possible now". them coexisting offers a lot of funny or cute moments, too. like a late night walk and Sapnap grabbing some AB blood snack from a nearby vending machine.

Sapnap and George both have jobs, though I'm leaving them vague as of right now. I think Sapnap working as a vampire streamer could be really funny, meanwhile George could have graduated from comp-sci some good 50 years ago and be still involved in that. (I still imagine he was involved in the late 19th century haute cotoure though. maybe that's what lead him to the US?)

does he tell people hes a supernatural sugar baby or is that like frowned upon?

Dream doesn't really tell many people about it, not directly. when asked about anything he says he's living with his two friends, no need to get into the details though. Quackity and Karl know and bully him about it in the way one would bully their best friend for getting a boyfriend. the sugarbaby part is more likely to be frowned upon than his glucose guardians being supernatural.

do sap and george have other vampire stuff?? like not seeing reflections and turning into bats and only being able to enter buildings when invited in?

heck yeah I love all these vampire tropes! I've read at some point that the "not seeing reflections" thing is most likely due to mirrors being made of silver back in the day, so going off of that, now that modern mirrors exist they can see themselves just fine. doesn't mean they didn't keep some silver mirror(s) around their mansion to mess with their guests. it also brings up the possibility of dream wearing a silver chain around SNF when he's angry with them. (applies to the whole garlic thing too. Dream would definitely spite eat garlic bread.)

I also love the idea of modern vampires using really strong sunscreen and wearing gloves/face masks/sunglasses/large hats to hide from the sun. George likes to go overboard with those sometimes.

ooh also are they all in love or is it platonic drramnotnap (im not sure but i love both both are good)?

that's up to the reader! I know people who are very much Not into shipping, and that's totally valid, so if they want to see them as three bros hanging out, that's cool! same for people who wanna read it as the three being in a polyamorous relationship. I don't wanna make anything explicitly romantic, and if I ever do, I don't plan on making it something so relevant to any plot that it can't be overlooked by those who aren't into it (y'know like the three getting married would be a big deal, so I wouldn't count on that). so yeah, if you wanna go for the boyfriends take on the au, I very much support that, but it's not a must.

#asks #vampire menace au #this is so bloody long damn #haha get it? bloody-

43 notes · View notes

brimbrimbrimbrim · 2 years ago

Note

hi! for the eddie prompts, 27 + 49 + 45 pls uwu

Meshing two requests together on this one, and it's... beefy. I think I managed to squeeze all the prompts into this, but, well, you'll just have to read to find out, I guess. Also, huge thanks to @butterbabyflapjack for her beta skills. <3

💕 The prompt list is HERE for anyone else interested. 💕

Title: The End of the World and the Bed Frame

Words: 7k+

Tags: mutual masturbation, multiple orgasms, vaginal penetration, thigh riding, humping, one bed trope, magical powers, DnD logic, overstimulation, edging, unsafe sex, creampies, slight breeding kink (sorta), smut, dirty talk, fix-it fic, season 4 part 2 spoilers, and lovey-dovey shit <3

Summary: 27. being forced to share a bed and 49. mutual masturbation and 45. bed breaking sex and 31. "Say my name."

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

It’s midnight, according to the shitty, nicotine-stained alarm clock with burnt-out digital numbers and one of those attached quarter vibrators adjacent. Steve and Nancy have been gone for over an hour, and Robin is, as far as you know, on the other side of the motel. Hawkins is smoldering, but you’re both still alive—Eddie especially is still alive.

‘Naw, baby… not gonna make it. Just, tell Henderson he’s got-‘

‘Don’t, Eddie. You’re not dying because of a few stupid fucking bats,’ you snort up tears and snot and watch his eyes shed a few tears—watch his lips bleed another river of blood-lace spit, ‘and… besides, I’m a bard, remember?’

You stare at your finger in the golden light from the floor lamp in the corner, mixed with the blue tinge of Hawkins' night-blue sky. It’s bright with distant fires, casting your digits in an ethereal color that only makes them seem more unnatural. It’s strange to think there’s something within this flesh, these bones, and veins that gave Eddie enough life to haul him back through the gateway. Wild, you think, wiggling your fingers until they just seem like ordinary ones, not magical in the slightest.

“I wonder if the lake house is even standing, what with the portal in Lover’s Lake…”

You’re talking to yourself, not expecting the metal head in bed behind you to respond, though you wonder if he’s worried about the state of his trailer considering the portal on his ceiling…

From the bed, Eddie mumbles, “Only saving grace is my Uncle had to work a double tonight. Pretty sure everything I own is hot lava by now.”

“… Gonna miss the way you looked in that flannel,” you joke, but not really. Something about the stark red beneath his leather jacket turned his brown eyes into deep pools of pyrope.

“Shit was scratchy. Won’t miss it.”

You step away from the long, waist-high window by the motel door, fingers free from the blinds where you’ve been standing the past ten minutes in jittery paranoia. Eddie shifts stiffly back on the sole double bed and changes the channel on the static-heavy television set.

Your eyes roam the destruction of Eddie Munson from a safe distance as he snorts derisively at late-night cable game shows.

It’s been no less than twelve hours since you, Dustin and Eddie pulled yourselves back through the Upside Down into his dilapidated trailer and even less time since the portals dissected Hawkins into volcanic, fiery snot. And, after all that, Eddie’s still a wanted man, and the wounds he suffered thanks to those heavy metal-loving demo bats needed a place to heal. Your fingers throb with the memory of pinching his gashes together… pads pruned from his blood and the vigorous washings between spell-knitting his muscle and fat layers together… then wrapping them up with convenience-store gauze.

He looks like a patchwork mummy, kinda. All laid out in the middle of the bed with his tangled hair a halo around his head. He’s still in his boxers with a pillow over his lap because of side effects, though you’ve already seen… everything when you and Robin had him in the tub, viciously squeezing interdimensional saliva and inflamed poison from his bites in a numb haze. A few of the deepest gouges sit on his chest and sides, covered with gauze and medical tape, lightly stained through, while the rest of him is a tapestry and fresh scabs, raised welts, and plum-yellowing bruises. There’s only so much your powers could fix in a short time, and while you joked about it before, those fucking bats really did a number of him.

Eddie looks like living hell… but he finds something stupid on the television and snorts out a laugh.

“Need anything else from your lunch box?” You ask to fill the loud silence of recent memories.

Eddie turns his head, cheek stuffed in a mess of brown curls fanning the fluffed pillow, and licks his lower lip, “I’m good. I’m… shit doesn’t hurt anymore. But, ya know, like… feel free to help yourself to whatever you want in there. Got some pre-rolls in the pencil case. I think...”

While the offer is tempting, there’s too much tension for grass to cut through—too anxious to enjoy it.

“… umm, thanks, but I’m okay for now. One of us needs to be on alert in case… something happens,” you tell him, tugging close the smokey curtains and double—triple—checking the locks on the thin motel door. It still doesn’t feel all that safe, but Hawkins police have enough on their hands, more than enough to bother wasting precious time hunting down Eddie Munson, who, according to their limited knowledge, may not even be alive.

It was close, though, that whole nearly dying business… too close.

You pick at the fast food baggy on the corner table while the past twenty-four hours finally weigh on your rattled mind. A waft of cheesy oil and stale fries floats out of the paper bag, making your nose wrinkle. Eddie’s already eaten two burgers and slurped down a milkshake, but yours is still sitting there… cold and unappetizing.

“You want my burger, Eddie?”

From the bed, Eddie groans, “Nice try, but you gotta eat, my fair maiden.”

You twist your lips and ignore his well-intentioned response, shaking off the pet name with a rub of your itchy eyes. You can’t handle the Eddie-made butterflies on top of the tension.

“I think… I’d rather shower first; maybe then my appetite’ll return,“ you say, playing with the filth-heavy hem of your Mayhem shirt with a frown. “Will you be okay on your own for a bit? I just need fifteen minutes… maybe twenty, to scrub all this interdimensional crap off.”

Eddie’s gaze darkens over your figure. The elephant in the room becomes apparent as a blotchy blush paints the apples of his cheeks.

“Uh, what about your clothes… Harrington and Wheeler were supposed to bring you back some stuff, weren't they?”

“Yeah, but I’m so fucking itchy. I promise I’ll tightly tie the towel around my dirty pillows for your modesty.”

Hawkins’ most famous hellraiser looks back at the television, not voicing that you’ve seen him, so it’s not a big deal if you’re in a towel for an hour or more. For a moment, you think he’s gonna make a joke, but Eddie just bites his lip and changes the channel with a stiff shrug. “Don’t think you need to worry about that. I’ve seen enough tits in my time… besides, I’m too stoned to think about your boobs.”

You smile because the alternative is screaming.

“Don’t tell me one of those things made you high?”

“Dude, you eat one of those things and try not to pop a boner…”

And, there’s that elephant in the room too, but you're not gonna lose another second over that. Mainly because despite the apocalypse, you can’t stop thinking about crawling between his legs to suck his problem away—mostly, though, aside from that filthy desire, you’re just happy he’s not in any pain, even if hard drugs made you uncomfortable. Always bring with them the childhood trauma and your dependency on downers to get through the anxiety of life as some freak—some terrifying burden…

“Do you need another one?” You ask, crossing your arms, eyes avoiding the pillow over his lap and the redness over his cheeks.

“Naw, but… if you bestow upon me a spliff and a torch, I will stroke… uh, toke… meant to toke like puff… umm, until this thing is gone.”

It physically hurts not to give in and laugh at his blunder—at his awkward Dungeon Master voice that’s way too endearing for the end of the world. It makes more sense for the adrenaline and relief of actually surviving the shit they just went through to give him wood, though you both know that’s not the culprit, but… far be it for you to argue why Eddie getting more stoned might only make his wood problem worse. At any rate, you fish his lighter and a rolled joint out of his tin lunch pail and place both gently on the pillow covering his, as he called it ‘shame.’

“You’re just lucky Nancy got us a smoking room.”

“Yeah, she’s a real angel throwing you in here with me, my boner, and I. At least Harrington wouldn’t be offended by it.”

“… I’m not offended,” you mumble, ignoring the way he fumbles with the joint before shoving it between his teeth, “just wasn’t expecting it to still be hanging around, is all.”

“Yeah, well,” Eddie scrapes the light, igniting the flint and taking a hard drag. On the exhale, he continues, “You saved my ass, baby. The last thing you deserved was my Maiden Slayer poking you in the eye.”

“Please tell me you don’t actually call it the Maiden Slayer.”

Eddie grins, still rosy-cheeked with thick smoke curling out the corner of his mouth, “This is what opioids do to me. Pretty charming, huh?”

“Endlessly,” you deadpan, unable to bite down your smile.

You nudge the remote closer to him and tap the dixie cup of water on the bedside table, silently reminding him to drink it while you’re in the shower. He doesn’t nod, but the smile says he’ll do his best—the one that creases beneath his eyes, dimples his cheeks, and makes you wish you’d met his Maiden Slayer before all this.

Once more, you check the locks, ignoring the urge to do it several more times before passing quickly between the bed and the television, all stiff and full of that tension Eddie has sustained, just like he’s sustained that boner you want to drain… but won’t.

Eddie’s eyes follow you like hot coals, but your tummy flutters—all knotted with emotion—and you hurry faster, throwing the door shut behind you.

<><><><>

As soon as she slams the bathroom door, Eddie slides up against the headboard, knocking the pillow off his lap to shove all five fingers in the elastic band of his boxers. The lighter clatters to the carpet, an irrelevant concern while he juggles his cock and balls with the wet roach smoldering in his mouth. His eyes hang on the door, swallowing fuzzy nerves, and he gives his aching cock a rough stroke, lashes fluttering at that first sweet hit of relief. He’s been stiff for the past hour, trying his fucking hardest to think about Upside Down slugs and bad grades to bid it back down, but the fair maiden’s touch still burns all over, and any inhibitions are gone with Eddie’s humble rock god origins. He put on the most metal show ever, survived the typhoon of demo bats, and got a slightly unsexy scrub bath from his one and only true savior, the party’s bard. Without her and those superpowers, he’d be demon guano by now…

“Goddamnitt… that’s fucking good.” Eddie holds in a whimper, eyes rolling back as he squeeze-jerks off his base until blood swells in his tip. Fuck… that’s it… only be better if she was doing it… if she was wrapped around him, seesawing in his lap like she wants him…

The vicodin gave him a juicy sense of relief, but it’s her magic fingers that have Eddie rock hard, and the fact that she knows it… and still doesn’t seem to mind sharing the room? Shit… Honestly, Eddie’s not sure how sold he is on the idea… of being stuck in a room with her—the heavy metal queen of his dreams— which has only fed his fantasies—helped the side effects of her healing spell flourish into the rock-hard erection throbbing in his fist.

Eddie hasn’t stopped thinking about what might happen tonight when it’s time to share this bed, and… maybe she has a nightmare? Needs comforting? And then one thing leads to another where Eddie spreads his mouth over her pussy, eating her out like tonguing cream out of a twinkie. She’ll squirm against his lips and moan loud enough to reach across the motel, fists full of his hair, while she tells him how good he is…

‘H-how do you eat pussy so well, Eddie? Oh, my god!’

“… shit,” Eddie exhales, picturing it in that wispy detail only afforded by combined drugs.

He moans low under his breath and reaches down his other hand to double-fist his cock until he can just pretend the all-encompassing grip is her—her mouth or her wet, eager pussy. It usually takes two joints to make his own callused hand feels this good… but, fuck… there’s something heady about surviving the performance of a lifetime and getting undressed by the hottest chick alive, even if it was to save his sorry ass from bleeding to death.

With his tongue between his lips, still glaring at the bathroom door, Eddie beats off until his eyes roll back in his head and carefully, silently, starts thrusting his hips into the tube he’s made of his palms… chasing his peak like it’ll be his last nut as a free man.

Well, maybe not silently… it’s hard to bite down a breathy moan here and there, especially when he remembers how her fingers had lingered on his neck, tracing the welt there from one of those razor whip tails… or how she blushed when they both had to work at the second skin of his bloodied jeans, soaking him in six inches of bath water to loosen it all, and then… see her eyes widen coming face to face with the wild, dark curls matted with sweat and blood around his dick.

“… fuck me, baby,” Eddie whispers, barely above an audible octave, “Yeah… that’s it—that’s it. Fuck, you feel so good… so good to me, always.”

His eyes are squeezed shut now, fingers threaded together, palms mashed at the heel, hip slapping his cock between the narrow funnel faster.

She’s in his lap, panties hooked to the side, exposing sweet, slippery pussy lips as they hug and glide over his shaft, raw humping it into his stomach. Eddie’s handcuffed to the bed, dunno why; he’s watching helplessly as his cockhead pops beneath her clit over and over and over… he takes it with a toothy grimace, watching her bare tits bounce… perfectly suckable nipples all hard and stiff beneath the sweat shining over her skin…

‘That’s it, Eddie… feels good, doesn’t it? Fuck, after everything you did—that fucking guitar solo—you deserve this.’

“I… ah, deserve this…” He says aloud, feeling his balls pull taut, swollen with a thick load. Everything is getting tighter—the pressure building up.

The damp slap of skin pulses in his ears with the gentle drum of his heartbeat, giving himself over to the all-consuming need in the hopes that he can squeeze one out before his fair maiden returns. At this rate, he just needs a minute or two. Just a bit, and maybe forty-five more seconds.

“S-so close… fuck… fuck, baby. Just a little… more…”

Her fingers dance around the engorged cap of his cock, sweeping all that sweet-scented pussy juice around with her touch, oiling him up to lift, hover, and slide down on his thick shaft. He struggles against the cuffs, arching up, shivering against his bondage as her body swallows him whole. She’s about to crush her ass in his lap—about to bottom out on him, and then-

The bathroom door clicks, and Eddie bites the tip of his tongue hard enough to taste iron. The hinges squeak, releasing a font of motel-soap-scented steam as he scrambles to grab that pillow and stamp it down over his red-raw dick. It twitches meanly… so close… fuck, he was so fucking close.

She steps out in a damp threadbare towel that leaves little to Eddie's well-crafted imagination, and his dick bounces beneath the pillow, weeping precum in a warm sticky stain against his stomach. This is hell… the worst thing since the Upside Down, and yet Eddie’s heart is racing not because he’s about to die but because no one’s ever given him blue balls like she has… right now. Still, if a black hole could open up and swallow him whole, that’d be totally cool.

“You still doing okay there, Eddie?” The fair maiden asks, rubbing a tiny washcloth against the wet tangles on the back of her neck. She’s so soft and dewy looking after that shower, like some ripe stone fruit with the fuzz that’ll just drip sweet syrup down his chin if he takes a bite.

“Good. Good. Yeah. Why, uh… why wouldn’t I be good?”

She gives him an incredulous look and drops the washcloth to the bed, “Well, aside from being mauled by interdimensional bat monsters, you’re also a bit flushed… like you’ve got a…” her eyes widen a bit, “a fever…”

Before Eddie can lurch away in a panic—pillow still white-knuckled in his fingers—she pushes the back of her hand to his damp forehead. Her tits strain against the fragile-looking towel knotted at their center, only further pushing the water-soft globes into his hungry gaze. Really, Eddie berates himself weakly; there’s no time for this shit. Then again… there’s nothing else for them to do but wait and recover… might be the perfect time to just lay back and drool over her for once.

Eddie’s eyes dart up to her face when his dick twitches meanly under the pillow, straining for something it can’t have.

Relief washes over her pinched features to find him clammy under her touch, not burning up. “Sorry, I just… Steve didn’t show any signs of infection or anything either, but I wanted to make sure. I can work my magic fingers on the physical stuff, but… but I dunno about the other stuff, ya know.”

“Sure,” Eddie nods, stiff in more places than one.

She can tell he’s uncomfortable, not like she’s stupid or naive. Her eyes drop down to her towel, gaze drifting nervously to the television set where the static is heavy over some talk show host presenting a line of expensive washing machines to the contestants. The fair maiden's fingers go to the knot between her breasts and fiddles there for a moment.

And then she releases the cotton tuck, exposing every water-soft inch of naked skin like unwrapping the only present Eddie ever needs. Her eyes glimmer with promise, roaming over his battered chest to land on the offending pillow in his lap. She tugs it away, revealing his painful erection, only to cuddle up close… right between his legs… and part her lips to-

“This is pretty badly scripted, huh?”

Eddie blinks away his fantasy and glances at the fuzzy set with a swallow. “Late night TV? What’s to be clever about?”

“No,” she glances down at him with a tight smile, “I meant this. Like, you and me, late at night… world’s ending as we know it, and I’m in a towel, and you’ve got a…” the word boner hangs in the air, “unless you don’t have it anymore.”

His eyes must widen, or his pupils blow out, or maybe he blushes so hard it's numb on his cheeks cause she chuckles, tits jiggling soft beneath the towel now clutched in her hand. Eddie’s dick pounds with blood, trying to burn through the cheap cotton pillow to say hello, but he pushes down on the plush fucker and takes a deep breath, “No. I’ve… definitely still got it.”

“You think it’s a side effect of-”

“Pills,” Eddie blurts out randomly, “… yeah, maybe.”

“No, not the pain pills,” she shakes her head and sits down on the bed, legs folded underneath her. There’s an enchanted pathway leading up her smooth, thick thighs that goes straight to what Eddie knows is her bare pussy, but the shadows from the hem of the towel hide her from view… also, he shouldn’t be staring. Not the time to be a fucking perv…

The fair maiden wiggles her fingers between them, looking at the pruney tips with a raised brow, “I kinda noticed it first in the RV when you had that headache—the one from being stuffed under the console when Steve got pulled over.”

Eddie nods—dick starting to drool—remembering the splitting migraine that sent him into the back of the RV, all the lights off, clutching his skull with every rock of the clumsy vehicle.

“Well, I couldn’t help but notice you had an… erection after I got rid of it for you. It was dark and all, but you bumped against me when Steve took that turn, and-and I felt it.”

Where’s the hole Eddie prayed for earlier? He doesn’t want to be here with a raging hardon hiding under this pillow—a boner he was beating off with her on his mind five minutes ago.

“... and then in the bath, when I cleaning you up, trying to use the powers to knit together the worst stuff, I noticed you… well, get hard,” she pauses, glancing at the pillow in his fists with a frown, “and it looks like you’re still dealing with it. Unless… you took care of it while I was in the shower?”

Eddie shuts his eyes, feeling the humiliation reach a zenith before imploding into a mild form of acceptance. Granted, he’d rather be here, in bed with a hard dick, alive and well, than being feasted on by flying vermin in the Upside Down, but she’s got a way of talking about embarrassing things that could put a guidance counselor to shame.

Finally, letting up on the pillow, at least enough to get blood back into his fingers, Eddie shakes his head and wills himself to just relax—just fucking chill.

“Oh, I thought… sorry, I should have just taken my sweet ass time in there for you.”

A really sweet ass and perfectly soft, supple tits…

Not even the weed swimming in his head helps when the fair maiden scoots a little closer, dropping a hand on his bare shoulder, just above a patch of medical tape and gauze. “I can totally understand needing to release all this tension, even if it wasn’t my fault… we’ve all been through so much, it’s like… human nature to wanna-”

“You wanna release it too?” Eddie’s not sure where it comes from, but there’s no taking it back now. He peeks up at her through frizzy, unconditioned bangs. She's got an adorable dusting across her cheeks and nose, and that in and of itself is a fucking relief.

“... maybe,” she mutters, pulling her palm off his shoulder, nails dragging deliciously across his skin.

“Well, fuck,” Eddie curses, tapping a nervous melody into the pillow with his fingers, scratching calluses through the abrasive pillowcase, “how are you supposed to do it? Cause someone wise told me I wasn’t allowed to leave this bed until morning.”

“Umm,” her eyes skirt around the room, avoiding Eddie’s like they’ll turn her to stone, “... I was gonna wait until you were asleep and just be really quiet and slow about it.”

The visual of the fair maiden laying in bed next to him while he snored on his back, rubbing herself under the towel—beneath the sheets—maybe teasing her tits with desperate little pinches, biting her lip… trying so hard to not rock the mattress or make a sound. The thought makes Eddie groan, covering it up with a wince as he shifts up against the headboard a bit. Her hand shoots out, skimming his chest with light pressure, trying to keep him from moving too fast… even though Eddie feels fine… all boner-throbbing aside.

“Here’s an idea,” Eddie says carefully, looking up into her beautiful, lash-heavy eyes filled with some unnamed emotion he hopes runs in line with the beating of his heart, “we both close our eyes, settle down and just… release the tension. Doesn’t have to be a big thing, right?” He gives her his Munson grin, hoping it looks convincing despite how his pulse quickens, worried he just fucked shit up thanks to a fake sense of confidence from the vicodin and the joint… and about two hours' worth of stifled brain activity thanks to his blood-lodged cock.

In the silence, all Eddie can hear is the television static and his own heart in his ears.

After an eon of waiting, the fair maiden bites her lip and nods, “Okay… I mean, only if you’re okay with it.”

Holy shit, she said yes.

Eddie almost tosses the pillow across the room without thinking, half-shouting a frantic, “Yes!” then floundering when she smiles coyly, “I mean, yeah… totally okay with it. Eyes closed. Human nature, and nothing weird.”

“Right…” she agrees, still smiling, “just two friends, releasing tension next to each other… in bed… alone… totally fine.”

Fuck. What did he just fucking agree to??

<><><><>

A few minutes of settling in and getting comfortable lands you in bed beside Eddie, who still has that pillow on his lap. The bath towel rides high, allowing some chilly motel air beneath where it licks at the hot moisture cuddled between your inner thighs. Your heart is racing happily, excited and lusty as Eddie slides back down the headboard, thick, messy curls pillowing his head as he exhales dramatically.

“Ready?” Eddie asks beside you.

Your pussy throbs, suddenly one of the only things on your mind despite the distant sirens racing down the highway adjacent to the motel. Suddenly, you feel like you’re basking in an oasis in the middle of chaos. Nothing can hurt him anymore, at least not right now… not as long as you can keep him in bed until your magical touch has finished healing the wounds littering his body. And, you’re fine too… both safe and sound, too.

You lower your lashes, recall his shredded, punctured state in the bathtub, right before you caught sight of his cock rising with blood—before terror was replaced with an ache—and cup your stomach.

“Yeah,” you breathe, taking in some air, filling your lungs, then slowly… you close your eyes, “… ready.”

Eddie hums in the back of his throat. Everything is amplified with your eyes shut, especially the slinky shift of the pillow against his skin—against his cock—as he moves it aside. Only when your ears pick up the ragged sound of his breathing and the soft, near-silent palm slide around his dick do you dare draw the thin cotton towel over your hips. As you wiggle into a comfortable position, the bed springs whine. You open your thighs in inching increments, listening intently as Eddie’s hand works himself over a little faster…

“... are you… doing it… right now?” you ask, whispering, knowing he is but wanting to hear him confirm it.

“Mmhm,” Eddie sighs, releasing a throaty groan, “I couldn’t hah… wait any longer.”

Suddenly, the near-soundless drag of skin—rhythmic and dry—goes slick…

You bite your lip, listening, imaging the rough pads of his fingers swiping precum off his weeping slit, lathering it into his shaft, squeeze-tugging up and down, wringing blood into the swollen head that’s perfectly flared and rounded... if only you could look, just a single peek…

As you take it in—the hazy fantasy behind your eyelids, the subtle shift of the mattress, and the sounds (fuck… those airy, desperate sounds)—your fingers reach down and inward, pressing a single finger to the drenched folds just beneath your clit.

You whimper in your personal darkness as gentle heat roars to life in your tummy, doused in gasoline. Eddie responds with a loud, uninhibited groan, as if he’s listening just as intently as you.

Beside you, the bed dips. He’s moved closer, you think, as if he’s turned his head to the side, facing you while his pace quickened… while he jerks off in the same bed, only inches away. Hot breath fans against the side of your face to prove your assumption, seeping into your whole body as a warm shiver.

“W-what,” Eddie pants, more heat flooding down your dewy neck and shoulder, “... what about you? Are you touching yourself yet?”

You nod, worrying your lip, realizing after a few swipes up and down your drooling slit that he can’t see.

“… yes,” you exhale, feeling a pulsing thrill when he nearly growls.

It’s obscene how wet you are now, feeling the outpour of desire dripping to the bedsheets.

With a whimper lodged in your throat, you turn your head towards him, eyes squeezed shut and open one thigh until your calf slides off the edge of the bed, exposing the entirety of your soaked pussy to the chilly air.

Elbow shaking, heart racing, you twist your wrist and rub two fingers along your clit in firm, uneven strokes.

“Mnn... fuck,” you whine, a burst of pleasure blossoming thickly. You drop your chin to your shoulder as Eddie whimpers like he did in the tub, back when you had a washcloth scrubbing clean all those open wounds. You see him behind your eyes again, covered in brown-stained gauze, fisting his cherry-tipped cock while turned towards you, lips just as swollen from raking his teeth over every other groan—grunting hot and loud.

Suddenly, the bed springs whine beneath you, your body nearly rolling into the middle as Eddie bucks up. The mattress bounces, your elbow bumps some hot swath of Eddie’s naked skin, and your eyes just… snap open.

Dark, doe-like orbs stare back at you.

“Eh-eddie!” You gasp.

His eyes are wide open and glassy. His mouth is just as red as you imagined, tongue pressing to the back of his teeth as he breathes through a slack mouth… a little line of drool shining down his chin.

“You-you…” you gasp, sliding a single finger inside the slippery, snug heat between your thighs, “... you weren’t supposed to-“

“Neither were you,” he cuts you off, teeth denting his lower lip.

Your eyes waver in his, then dip downward, tracing the chords protruding around his adam’s apple, the tension in his shoulders and the undulating muscles of his chest and stomach and… and…

“Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie… that looks-”

“Y-yeah, been edging myself this whole time… I was literally about to ruin these sheets before you… shit,” he groans, lashes fluttering and hips jerking that hard, abused cock into his fist, “… shit. I…” he trails off, big browns sliding over your body, pupils blotting out the woody hue at the sight of your finger crooking inside your soaked hole, making an obscene slurping noise that has you both blushing.

“F-fuck-” he curses, swallowing a whine, “you’re fucking wet… aren’t you?”

His palm tightens around the base of his cock, making the whole thing surge with blood, beating veins bulging in little curls towards the bulbous head. A tiny bead of precum wells along the tip and then slides all gentle-like down the rim of his cockhead. It’s… the most erotic thing you’ve ever seen, and you’ve watched plenty of beaded-curtain tapes from the comfort of your living room… the nasty red-label stuff, though none of that has ever had you finger fucking yourself so furiously.

“Do… would you like to,” you pause, tugging your hand from between your thighs to place on the bed between you and Eddie, “… I mean… what I meant to say—to ask is…”

You trail off when Eddie gives his cock a slow, almost lazy stroke from base to tip, his hooded, heated orbs running over the loose knot between your breasts. He looks like he wants to rip the towel away and smother himself between them, and honestly… you’re far from opposed to the idea. But, you need to be sure because as sober as he looks, he’s taken pills and smoked a joint and-

“Can I kiss you?” Eddie asks, all smokey and quiet.

You nod shakily, holding your breath as Eddie lifts himself on an elbow, his wild mop of hair falling over his shoulders until his nose is an inch from yours, fist still strangling his dick. His hot breath rushes down your chin, tickling the tops of your breasts, and with a raw-lipped smile, Eddie leans in and gives you the most tender, softest kiss of your life.

… and almost immediately, you want more.

With a sharp inhale, you cup the back of his neck, fingers threading through fluffy curls, and draw him closer. You lean in, lips slanted, and give his lower lip a swipe of your tongue. Eddie groans, opening up, taking another hot lick against his teeth… and another over the slick tip of his own, then you’re on your back, smothered in naked body heat as Eddie smacks his lips wetly over yours. It’s messy—sloppy—and unforgettable. The motel room echoes with the gentle slide of bedsheets and the damp seal and click of your shared kiss. You break away once your head starts pounding with needed air, gasping and shuddering beneath a smoldering trail of wet kisses that Eddie lavishes down your chin and jaw… until he’s sucking at that sweet spot beneath your ear.

“You… oh, my god,” you hitch, eyes rolling back as his lips seal over your pulse, pulling blood to the surface with a throaty groan, “… you really shouldn’t be moving around s-so much.”

Eddie releases your neck with a pop, lips sliding down to the tops of your tits, “Oh, yeah? And what are you gonna do about it? Hmm?”

He kisses the swell of one breast, smirking, “Come on, baby… can’t seriously think I’m gonna miss this opportunity. Shit, not when you’re rubbing your pussy against me like this.”

W-what? When did you…

Your hips still against his planted thigh, a flush filling your cheeks. The immediate loss of that rhythmic rowing pleasure against your swollen clit leaves you trembling beneath him. When had you started doing that?

Eddie shakes his head, hair tickling beneath your chin as his breathing comes like summer against your cleavage, “No, no, no… don’t stop. Please, I got you.”

He presses his thigh against your soaked core, thrusting and grinding firmly to return all that lovely bliss ten-fold, “Shit… how’re you so fucking wet?”

“D-damnitt, Eddie,” you whine, nails scraping against his scalpl, hand gripping his shoulder and both thighs pinching his, “... you’re gonna open up your-ah!” The towel comes loose between you, exposing a tight nipple to the naked skin of his bicep beneath the plastic adhesive of medical tape. It sends a tremor down your belly, right into the slippery beaded nerve rubbing against Eddie’s thigh.

“T-too much… it’s too much. I’m gonna-“ you gasp, already on the precipice of that cliff face while the world burns.

“That’s it, baby,” Eddie susurrates, tongue spearing between your free bouncing breasts, “... that’s it. I got you, just like you got me. Y-yeah… fuck, cum for me.”

Sticky heat tightens in your tummy. Another moan shivers between your lips, and… clutching yourself to Hawkins’ infamous metal head, you arch and hump yourself into a dense orgasm right there… right against him… All that tension from the past twenty-four hours—no, longer than that… since you saw him on your front porch, needing a place to hide, looking like some water-logged puppy dog—all that prolonged tension just fucking melts.

<><><><>

When she cums, it’s hotter than any weed-assisted fantasy Eddie’s vivid imagination could conjure, and he’s never been lacking in visualization skills, nearly been a curse… until D&D and her and Jesus fucking Christ she’s still shaking against his thigh, dripping moisture into the divot where his knee dents the mattress. Those blotchy-blushed cheeks deepen as her tongue wets her lips, eyes barely open. She’s never looked so serene; all the worry in her face smoothed to nothing. He can’t help but growl, almost monstrous, as her nails dig into his skin, working herself through the last licks of her orgasm on top of his fucking thigh like she needs every drop of pleasure… and Eddie’s more than happy to give it to her.

Who would have thought he’d have such an effect on the fair maiden, enough to get her cumming just from a bit of skin-on-skin grinding?

“That feel better?” He asks, sliding his knee across the sheets, shoving the damp surface of his thigh hard against her cunt, nearly getting off on the muffled whine it gets him.

“Mmph’hm,” she bites her lower lip and nods, tears edging her lashes, “... b-but what about you?”

“What about it?” Eddie shrugs, nuzzling his nose up her chest against her throat, and presses his face into the crook where she’s bleeding heat and a salty layer of clean sweat against his lips. Yeah, his dick is throbbing, leaking like a busted pipe into the scratchy cotton towel still wrapped around her hips, but he doesn’t wanna push his luck, not when she’s so clearly fucked out and tender and-

“Dude,” she scoffs, all busted and breathy, “... this all started because you’ve had that thing burning a hole through your boxers for hours.”

Eddie chuckles and gives her neck a soft kiss before locking his elbows, hovering over the state of her. She’s all soft tits with stiff nipples, crumpled cotton, a cute tummy with wide hips, and… Eddie’s dick twitches at the sight of her pretty, little pussy all sticky and inflamed from cumming on him. Alright, so he might die of blood loss if he doesn’t drain the Maiden Slayer soon.

Without thinking, Eddie says the first thing on his mind, “Can I eat you out? I mean, I’ve only done it a couple times before, but I’m a fast learner when It counts… and I promise, a few thrusts against this shitty mattress, and I’ll cum without you having to worry about-”

“Eddie,” she says so sweetly it almost tears his heart out, “why don’t you lay back, relax and let me ride you.”

For a long moment, Eddie wonders if he heard her right. She just looks up at him, waiting, carefully detangling the knots in his hair one-handed as his eyebrows slowly rise up into the tension lines of his forehead. Say what now?

“Wait. Did you just-” Eddie gulps, feeling like he’s sixteen again at a show about to lose his virginity in the bathrooms. “You wanna ride me? Like, sit on my dick with your-”

“Stop thinking, Eddie,” she whispers, pressing against the middle of his chest, shifting to her side until he follows her, falling back on his shoulder and then rolling to his back. His heart’s beating a fucking tattoo in his chest, hammering hard as the fair maiden swings a leg over his hips. Holy fucking shit… holy shit…

“Holy fuck,” he wheezes, hands hovering around her until they start shaking, and he can’t help but grip the give of her ass—squeezing the soft swell of her hip where it creases into the top of her thigh. Fuck, how’s she so fucking perfect? Maybe he didn’t really make it… perhaps he’s dead…

“Umm, what about babies and shit?” Eddie says smoothly, nearly cumming the second she lays that burning hot slice of heaven over the underside of his cock, pinning it to his tight stomach with a wet churn.

“I don’t care… the world might end tomorrow.”

“Fuck, fuck… okay. Shit, you know I’m not gonna last long,” he sucks his teeth in a hiss as she thrusts over him, lathering his dick up in slick so molten it’s akin to the fissures dissecting Hawkins, “... like, three strokes and… I’m done for.”

The fair maiden smirks, shifts her hips and rises to her knees.

She hums Master of Puppets like it’s his own personal anthem, picking his soaked cock off his stomach and sliding his puffy, raw head through her folds. Eddie grunts, feeling the cuddle of her burning center start to suck him in. His fingers curl into her, tugging desperately—yanking her down until he’s letting out a long, pathetic moan as he’s encased in the hottest, tightest pussy he’s ever tasted. Fuck, taste… he can’t wait to go down on her… maybe tonight… when she’s done fucking his brains out. Just, Eddie wants to motorboat her cunt until he’s bathed in it, munching down with lips, tongue, and teeth… finger fucking her drunk.

“… fuuuck-fuck… that’s… that’s fucking tight. Fucking shit,” Eddie feels his legs start to shake, her pussy sinking down and down until those delicate folds are stretched taut around his cock, nestling in the matted curls at the base, “... fuck me. I’m-I’m gonna cum.”

He makes it precisely three seesaws of her hips in before shoving his head back into the pillow, throwing his chin up, and biting his teeth through a lighting strike of liquid hot pleasure. His balls tighten, hugging against his body, sending lava shots through him and into the fair fucking maiden gyrating on him. She doesn’t stop either, just places her palms on his tattered chest, leans in with tickling fingers, and fucks her creamy pussy in his lap, slurping up his cock while injecting that dizzying spell of hers into his soul. Suddenly, Eddie can breathe into every capillary of his lungs—can feel the scabby bite wounds knit together—can count his pulse in his cock as it recharges with rich blood.

Eddie’s moans come in sequence with her thrashing hips. Choking grunts and hisses shoot out of him as the bed springs squeak. He readjusts his grip around her waist, digs his calluses in hard, rings branding her skin and brings her down with every cant of her hips.

“Th-this okay, Eddie?”

The way she says his name… holy shit, better than his most perverted dreams.

“Fuck me, yes-yes. Keep going,” Eddie whimpers, half-begging as her tits blur over her ribs, bouncing so fast he can barely keep up.

“You want me to fuck you until you can’t get outta this bed…” she pauses to bite her lip and whine under the battering of his dick, “fuck… uh’until you can’t move… not unless I let you?”

“Yes-ye’hesss… harder,” he pants, “Fuck!”

He’s snorting out sounds now, fucking up into her as she slashes back and forth—his fists tight, slamming her down. And the fair maiden does just as he asks; she fucks him faster, harder, swallowing his dick up until he can feel the spongey patch nestled deep, just below her cervix.

She yelps, sobs and keeps going.

“Y-you’re killing me,” and to prove his point, her pussy does this wild dance around his cock, just… strangling it until he feels like a melted icecream cone, “... baby-f’f’fuck!”

“I’m,” the fair maiden pants with a bright, sweaty smile, “bringing you back to life,” she giggles, breathy, tits jiggling—hypnotizing—and rides him all the harder, “gonna fix everything.”

Eddie nods until his chin aches against his sternum, finding himself saying nonsensical shit like prayers and how he wants to give her his babies (wild, pussy-drunk talk), grabbing at her tits as the bed creaks. The headboard starts slamming the wall. Eddie watches, mesmerized as the fair maiden leans forward, holding the noisy panel of wood, using it as leverage to row her pussy… everything going impossibly wet and tight like she’s… oh fuck…

“Fuck, you gonna cum again?!” Please, please…

She’s nodding, tearing up, eyes watching him with her brows upturned.

“Say my name… a’hah!—w-when you cum. Sounds so fucking hot…”

Eddie squeezes her breasts, flicks his thumbs over her nipples, and shivers as her pussy contracts sharply. The first gasp of his name ignites a tight, tug of heat.

“Eddie… fuck, just like that, Eddie!” Frantic energy bursts in her movement, fucking herself on his cock until wood cracks—his eyes snap open, both sharing a worried look but never stopping, not even when the support panel, or whatevers under the mattress, breaks, snapping the shitty motel frame right down the fucking middle.

Shit!

“Eddie!”

Eddie grapples her waist, keeping her from rolling off while her palms white knuckle the headboard, and… just when he thinks the mood’s ruined and they’re gonna burst into awkward laughter, that hot, suckling heat around his cock turns into a fucking vice. He hisses, bangs plastered to his sweaty forehead and bucks up, yanking her down, fucking her through the convulsions of another orgasm until he’s unloading into the sweetest, hottest metal babe of his dreams for a second, mind-melting time.

Like… this one’s world ending; fireworks behind his eyes, Metallica riffing in his brain kinda orgasm that blots out the chaotic knocking on the motel door.

“Hmm?”

Eddie’s ears still ring when the fair maiden pulls herself off his dick, unplugging a dense load of creamy, hot cum to ooze down his slippery, red dick. He blinks, releasing her with a whine as she crawls over the bed. The way her ass jiggles makes his brows shoot up, just… taking in the view with his tongue between his lips and his dick twitching happily.

“Uh, not that I’m complaining, but,” Eddie stretches out, feeling all those leftover bruises and scrapes from the demo bats pull against his skin, “... where’re you going?”

“The door, dude!”

Suddenly, Eddie hears the knocking and the sound of Harrington shouting through the thin wood, ‘Come on guys, it's a madhouse out here, and I haven’t eaten since yesterday. Let’s go!’

‘Hellooo?’ comes Henderson’s egotistical singsong, ‘Eddie… you both awake in there?’

“Henderson…” Eddie groans, then bolts upright as the fair maiden reaches the door in herbirthday suite and nothing else. Eddie shouts, stumbling up in the broken bed and waves his hands dramatically as she starts on the locks, “Towel! Holy shit, baby! Fucking towel.”

“Huh?!” She turns around, stark naked, wearing a few hickeys, finger marks on her waist and hips, and a long shiny line of cum between her inner thighs. For a second, she blinks in confusion, then drops her eyes down her body with a blush.

“Woah… I nearly open the-“ she points a thumb at the rattling door where Harrington is banging in frustration, “-and he would have… and Dustin… eww…“

Eddie bites his tongue.

‘I swear if you two are cooked out of your minds I’m gonna be… so… just… open the door!’

They both share a ‘holy shit’ kinda look and burst out laughing. Behind the door, Harrington grumbles.

‘It’s not funny, guys!’ then lower, muffled, he adds, ‘Dustin, tell them it’s not funny, man.’

‘I dunno, it sounds pretty funny. Kinda sounds like they’re having a great time, and I’m stuck with you, Mom of the Year, over here.’

The fair maiden sputters, trying to cover her laugh, only for Eddie to rise up on his knees, his bare, semi-hard, and thoroughly fucked dick on display while putting his hands on his hips in a very Harrington-like impersonation. It gets her laughing out loud again—gets Harrington knocking on the door and gets Eddie a bag of fast food thrown in his face. He falls back on the bed with a wide grin, the mattress sagging sadly beneath him. Everything feels fantastic; even the sweaty, musty sheets are like rich cotton as he rolls himself up in them while watching his fair maiden pull that stained towel around herself, looking flushed and fucked and happy as hell.

Course, Harrington doesn’t seem too amused when she finally opens the door, and the smell of sex hits the man square in the face.

“Seriously? Two hours… you guys couldn’t act like adults for two hours?!”

“Define adult, Harrington,” Eddie pokes his tongue out while the fair maiden pinches her lips to hold in whatever’s on her tongue.

Henderson curls his nose up, tossing a duffel bag into the room with a frown, “What’s that weird smell.”

Harrington points at the both of them, “Don’t answer that.” His eyes roam over the state of the room, hands on his hips like a true soccer mom and balks at the leaning mattress and rumbles sheets, “Wait… what the hell happened to the bed?!”

You can find me on AO3 and you can read my huge Eddie Munson/Reader fic Fortune Teller too. If ya want. <3

44 notes · View notes

yandere--stuck · 3 years ago

Note

(Blood and implied self harm tw?)

I love ideas of yandere jane because she fits the trope of “baked goodies with blood in them” (John gets his cannibalism from grandma clearly) but she is a baking QUEEN so you know she extensively researched (and experimented) with ratios of what was best. She can’t get you sick! Unfortunately for her, she can only add a little bit! It’s ok though, since it brings you closer. One day when you’re with her, she accidently nicks her finger! She’s unfazed by it, but you (in typical shoujo fashion) grab her hand and put her finger in your mouth. You’d probably jump back after a second and apologize getting a bandaid saying something about being really worried and that you read spit helps wounds but Jane is gone. She is in heaven. She adores you but your words are floating right past her. She didn’t have to hide it in a cupcake or some cookies. She short circuits for a little bit while you fuss over her hand (and the fact you think you freaked her out)

OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. ANON. YOUR BRAIN. SO TRUE SO TRUE SO TRUE OH MY GOD. I CANT BELIEVE I HAVENT THOUGHT ABOUT THIS BEFORE YOU'RE A GENIUS!!!!

Also you're SO right about it being a Crockerbert thing. John is more straight forward, while Jane is more sneaky and slower to the punch about it.

This is so up my alley and I love it so much bless you!!!

---

Jane was walking on air, barely able to contain herself even as she waited for her cupcakes to finish baking. Every once in a while, she'd break into squeals and giggles, overwhelmed with the joy and excitement that buzzes in her chest. She danced and practically bounced around the kitchen, replaying the memory over and over and over again!

You loved her! You had licked her wound, had tasted her blood of your own volition! She can barely contain the joy that welled up inside her, the warmth that spread throughout her entire being. You had grabbed her, touch so gentle, and your lips wrapped around her finger, suckling at her wound and drinking the small dollops of blood that leaked from her. Oh, if she hadn't known you and her were meant to be before, this would be the icing on the cake! Just thinking about it again made her flustered.

Ah, but how sad it was that the moment ended so soon, that you caught yourself and felt ashamed of your actions. She tried to tell you it was okay, that she understood, that she had read somewhere, too, that saliva promoted healing, but you were far too embarrassed. You excused yourself to the bathroom, most likely trying to hide upstairs until you found the courage to face her again, or until enough time passed that you felt it appropriate to see her again - all entirely unnecessary, of course! You never needed to be embarrassed around her, especially over something as intimate and sweet as what you had done!

The timer beeped, making Jane perk up. She couldn't help the grin that rose to her lips as she slipped on her oven mitts, moving to take her cupcakes out of the oven. Behind her glasses, her eyes crinkled with mischief as she thought of you having another taste of her "secret ingredient." Maybe it was for the best that you had absconded upstairs - it made the process of adding her blood into the batter all the easier! The first few times she had tried out the recipe had been so difficult, and there was a lot of trial and error, but with practice, it was made perfect!

For one, Jane found that it was much easier to extract blood through needles than trying to break the skin with a knife. A painful lesson, to be sure, but an important one nonetheless.

There was also the trouble of finding the best way to include her blood in the recipe. Turns out, she could simply skip out on using eggs and use her lifeblood as a substitute! Then, she'd just adjust her measurements of the other ingredients to better hide the taste, and voilà! Her special, secret ingredient cupcakes she made just for you. All of them made with love…

As she busied herself with the frosting bags she set up, she bit her bottom lip, wondering if she had somehow subconsciously conditioned you to crave the taste of her blood. Oh, the thought just made her burn all the more! Well… If that was the case, it's all the more reason to make this batch extra special! You deserved a treat, after all.

Usually, she made your cupcakes with regular frosting so as to not make the metallic taste too overpowering, but it's very clear you'd taken a liking to it! She mixed an extra hit of her blood to her buttercream frosting, giving it a slightly red tone. Jane carefully decorated the pastries, repeatedly swirling around the cupcake as she made the design of a rose.

She grinned from ear to ear, her buckteeth peeking out from under her top lip as she looked over her work. Perfect. They were perfect. Just like you!

Carrying one of the cupcakes in her hand, cushioned by a napkin, Jane made her way upstairs. Slowly, she made her way over to her room, giving a knock on the door. As much as she hated to think of you sulking or worrying over having made her upset, it made her giddy how comfortable you were with her, enough to take refuge in her room.

"Can I come in?" She called.

She watched as the doorknob turned, revealing you, brows furrowed and your expression nervous. Slowly, you opened up the door and stepped away to give her room. "You don't have to ask. It's your room."

"Still!" She made her way inside, taking a seat on the bed, patting beside herself to offer you a seat. "It doesn't hurt to be polite."

You sunk down beside her, letting out a deep sigh, unable to bring yourself to look at her. "I'm… I'm really sorry about-"

"Oh, you're still thinking about that?" She waved the thought off. "It's no big deal, really! In fact, I'm flattered."

You gave her a look, making Jane flounder for a moment. "I- I mean, that you- you care so much about me, you know? That your first instinct is to help me, and that you feel that close. What I'm trying to say is that it's all okay. You don't need to worry."

"Are you sure? You're not just saying that to make me feel like I'm not a weirdo?"

"Yes, I'm sure, and you're not a weirdo," Jane's expression was stern, but only for a moment. Her face relaxed into a soft smile as she held the cupcake up to you."

You blinked, hesitating. "You're sure?"

"Of course." She replied, tone gentle and full of love.

Slowly, you took the napkin and cupcake from her hands. You felt her eyes on you as you lifted it to your mouth - perhaps to gauge your reaction, but that wouldn't really make sense. You always loved whatever she made! Including this, unable to help the muffled moan you let out as the frosting hit your tongue and the cake melted into your mouth. Her confectioneries were always delicious. Something about them was different from any other sweets you had tasted before, probably thanks to whatever secret ingredient she added to them, always saying it was special, just for you. Her saying that always made you so flustered.

Jane was once again on cloud nine. Watching you lose yourself in the taste of her baking, her lifeblood, was absolutely heavenly. You had become one without even realizing it! Oh, she couldn't wait until she could tell you the truth of what was in it, what she used as a special ingredient. She hoped you'd be receptive to the truth, but if you weren't at first, you'd surely have been conditioned to crave it by now. You'd have to get your fix sometime, wouldn't you? And wouldn't it be all the better to get it from the source?

She cuddled up against you in a "friendly" hug, closing her eyes as she imagined you drinking from her. It'd be so intimate and loving to do so without the barrier of her baked goods, to partake in her and her actual flavor. She couldn't wait to feel how your teeth dug in and ripped into her flesh, breaking the skin, your tongue licking up droplets of blood or letting it run into your mouth. You'd look up at her, eyes glazed over in pleasure and hunger as you fed from her, practically addicted. And Jane would let you take as much as you wanted. She loved you that much.

131 notes · View notes

cuddlecave · 3 years ago

Note

is xiphoid

first: you *are* good

next: alright thingrey au

how bout an alternate 'the team finds out the shapeshifter is still alive, whoops!' but in an utterly disastrous way

it's been a while since antarctica! a long while, and gord and benr *meant* to tell the team about them ages ago, when benr became human shaped again, but there just never seemed to be a good time? and really, whats one more day, week, month...

anyway the team is utterly oblivious of benr, but being aware of gord, means that's they've noticed he's not been spending as much time with them! been spending, like, a lot of time at home, actually--or away from town. sometimes even avoiding them! they're worried, bc really, this is not the way to deal with trauma, gord! you don't pull away from your friends, you get help! just bc you can't see a therapist doesn't mean you shouldn't try to process it!

anyway, gords generally cagey about where he is, but on a rare team night where he had come to hang over...they very much on purpose get him drunk. now, drunk gord is still pretty fucking cagey (he loves his boyf and would never endanger him if possible), which is a shame, but tom is able to ask a question casually enough that gord doesn't think about it...and ends up telling them he goes out to the [insert desert area here] sometimes. when pressed on why he goes, he seems to realize he made a mistake, and bolts, cutting the night short.

now, credit to gord, him and benr don't go back to that particular desert area after that. but the team are damn smart, and figure that just bc he's not at that area anymore, doesn't mean he's not in *any* desert area anymore.

takes some trial and error--figuring out when gord seems to be out (he never answers his phone when he's out, his car is not at home), and then checking a desert area (didn't get anything but desert the first few times). but eventually...they find his car.

things paint...a worrying picture. there's camping/chilling gear in the car (chairs and a shitty tent, left from when gord tried camping several years ago and never bothered to remove from his car) but they're not set up and gords not there? the doors arent locked and the keys are in ignition? (gord doesn't want to drop his keys running from benr, he did that once and it sucked. also why he doesn't bring his phone! but he's out like 55 miles from the nearest town, who's gonna steal his car?) there's torn up foliage around, as if something big came through (benr may give gord a head start, but he still likes to be big enough to a) chase well, and b) nom gord after), and most worryingly--a set of human footprints in the sand, clearly running based on stride. and some strange larger footprint *next to them*.

their friend was ambushed by something big, and is going to get got. (this is not entirely untrue. not ambushed, but definitely going to get got, lol.) they set off quickly following the footprints.

meanwhile-gord and benr are having a *great* time! the exercise feels nice for both of them, it's a cloudy day so it's shady, they're gonna order pizza and play playstation after this--its gonna be a wonderful day. it already is!

gord, at this point, is beginning to tire out. benr is getting closer. he pushes himself a bit farther, to stretch out the chase just a touch longer, and makes a sharp turn around a rock formation, causing benr to briefly crash into it, giving him a few more steps. but he's tired, and well, benr has better stamina--and agility. benr bounds over the rock formation and uses it's height to gain just a bit of an extra boost, and tackle-hugs gord. they nearly crash into some sharp shrubs, but they're fine.

gord turns and looks up at benr and grins, and benr leans down to him, and gives him a long kiss. gord hums in contentment and relaxes. he's gonna get to doze, now, before driving. naptime, hell yeah.

benr picks him up to swallow him and he just remains basically limp, exhausted, letting benr manhandle him, gently maneuvering him into his jaws. he's swallowed with little fanfare, and happily settles in his tum, almost immediately starting to doze as benr starts to walk.

then he hears screaming, and benr sharply moves, and suddenly he's wide awake.

the team follow the tracks. it's a long walk, even moving at speed--gord must have really been booking it, which means hopefully he's still safe, got away some how. surely nothing would chase him for too long, when he was outrunning it this well. the trail goes on and on and on--its looking less like this thing gave up. and gords footsteps are shorter, he's not managing a hard run anymore. they're coming up on a rock formation--its still several hundred feet away. close enough to see a figure that can only be gord run from behind it, but far, far to far away to do anything about what happens next.

they see him turn sharply, and something big hits the rocks, clearly taken off guard. he makes it a few steps. and the team look on in absolute horror as what can only be the shapeshifter jumps off the top of the rocks, and tackles gord to the ground. they're partially obscured by the desert plants, but it's enough to see, even at this distance, the rippling body parts of the creature, pinning gord down.

the thing leans its head down toward gord, and they can't see what's happening with the plants and distance. and then.

it picks a completely unmoving gord up, and swallows him whole.

oh, god. it snapped his neck. it ate him. it's going to try to finish what it started in antarctica oh fuck does anyone have a flamethrower?!

a seeing it stand and start to leisurely walk in the direction they came from, they're finally broken from they're spell of silence and horror. somebody starts screaming angrily, and bubby has a lighter and big spray, making a makeshift flamethrower--and they run towards it in vengeance.

it notices them and sharply turns, booking it in the opposite direction.

(1/?)

continued under the read more!

(cont) oh fuck, thinks benr. this is not good. Not Good at all. gord frantically asks what's going on?! and goes cold when benr says 'ur friends saw us. and buby has fire.' the good thing is, benr is bigger and faster than humans. the bad thing is that he's been running all morning and now has over 200 pounds of boyf swaying in him, even if he's holding gord as tight as possible so he's not getting thrown everywhere. he's not gonna last long, and there's nowhere to hide. gord is furiously thinking. but he's also exhausted, and panicking. the thoughts in his brain are sticky like drying glue when he tries do something with them, and he can feel benr slowing. it's not by much, but his alien bf getting hurt *at all* is unacceptable, so. he decides to stop thinking and start doing. he tells benr to 'stop and let me out! as fast as you can!' and benr skids to a stop and turns half facing the approaching team, and splits his abdomen open and gord comes tumbling out into the light, getting immediately covered in dust and mud sticking to the saliva covering him. it's kinda gross, but at the moment it's not even registering, bc in those moments buby has nearly caught up. gord stands, pushes benr behind him, who let's himself be pushed purely out of surprise, and holds his hands out. 'its me! I'm fine it's ok it's me, please I can explain, just turn off the fire! it's ok!' but the thing is, as far as they're concerned...'you fucking imposter we saw gord die! get a better lie!' and buby is still running full tilt at them. gord has enough time to think, *aw fuck, this is gonna hurt*, before buby lights his makeshift flamethrower and gord is suddenly extremely hot, in pain, and knocked on his back. he can see the sky for a quick moment, before what can only be benr is standing over him, protecting him from further fire. a few limbs quickly use the dirt to put out the couple embers on his shirt (well, what's left of his shirt...) buby jerks back at the large being leaping in his direction, but it stops as it stands over the gord-imposter. which... is not moving. or writhing like the shapeshifter, or trying to split off from the damaged part. it's just...lying there. shallowly breathing as if in shock. buby gets a bit of a sinking feeling. - I got tired after writing this but basically benr tries to angle around enough to protect gord and also use teal green on him from another mouth. the team quickly figure out something is fucky, and that gord...might not be a Thing?? gord is in zero shape to have a real conversation--burns are serious business, and he basically passes out during teal-green. so why was the creature... protecting gord?? especially if it ate him?!?! there's an uneasy (extremely uneasy) truce, and benr carries gord back to the car, flamethrower pointed at them the whole way. they leave gords car and take them both back to toms place, in the car they drove in. it is supremely awkward. especially when gord wakes up for half a minute, kisses benr, and passes out again. not sure how it would go from there,, .... didn't mean to accidentally write a minific but here we are!! I really like the 'extreme misunderstanding vore' trope, lol.

ohhhh man this is like an angsty version of a regular not-a-game au idea i've thought up before o: thinking about what would happen next... the whole car ride home, benb was hitting gord with more healing (tho he gave the guys ample warning first about what he was doing so they wouldn't think he was attacking or something), and thanks to that, gord's burns are healed up to the point where he doesn't need hospitalization, just some burn cream and good rest to finish it off. (and a hair cut. benb is very sad that he couldn't repair gord's burned hair and beard. when gord's awake again he's just "Dude it'll grow back, don't worry." "i knooowwww but it still sucks. your hair was SO pretty. and you look like a sixteen-year-old without facial hair. kinda weird. babyfaceman." "WOW shut up."). when gord's awake and aware enough again, they all have a sit down and get an explanation from him and benb. benb goes on to basically give a summary of his whole backstory; explain what exactly he his and how he got to earth, and what he was trying to do both at the b'mesa base and that first norwegian base he first thawed out in. when he gets to the part about why he never wanted to hurt the sciteam, that does a pretty good job of warming them up to him. "the thing about that frzn guy is he was a total asshole. HUGE douche canoe. and i was like 'maaaan i don't wanna be this guy, he suuuuucks', but then i noticed that he'd hardly ever interacted with anybody else there. new guy on the base. nobody knew him, or knew what he was like. so i figured i could get away with acting like myself instead of him, and nobody would notice. i've never been able to just be me around other people, only when alone. i didn't really... know how it was gonna turn out. but you guys ended up liking me! you invited me to come hang out on breaks, and play video games, and watch movies, and talk about soda and photography and it was fun and nice and good! you were nice to my dog body, too. giving me a name and everything... you're all great cools. i got attached to you guys. like, super attached. didn't wanna hurt you, ever. 's the reason i never touched the sled dogs, too- i knew tommy would be sad if something happened to the dogs, and i didn't wanna make him sad." (bubs probably acts like he's not touched by that, but he is :B and also, like i've said in a post on my main, bubs feels some sympathy towards benb after hearing about his origins as an unethical science experiment. bubs wasn't grown in a lab in this au, but he was still subjected to some painful "knowledge tubes" experiments due to his contract with b'mesa. so he still knows that feel, bro. unwilling lab rat solidarity.) benb apologizes for everything in antarctica, and bubs apologizes for torching gord, but then the team asks what the fuck? happened in the desert?? and gord explains the "one-sided tag" game they do to help benb burn up energy, and that benb was just carrying gord to let him rest from the run on the way back to the car. ("Carrying you in his stomach, though?" "nah i don't put him where food goes. it's the uhhhh *lip smack* nap organ. custom made for sleeping in. bedry time.") (they also at one point explain "also we're dating" to which gord gets accused of being a monsterfucker ha ha. and then benb's like "ew no i'm ace" and harold goes on about how beautiful interracial young love is.)

#long post #bf tum is the warmest place to hide

9 notes · View notes

aion-rsa · 4 years ago

Text

Mortal Kombat Easter Eggs and Reference Guide

https://ift.tt/32FL0Or

This Mortal Kombat article contains spoilers.

There’s a new Mortal Kombat live-action movie out on HBO Max, and it comes after nearly 30 years of games, cartoons, and movie adaptations. With such a long history to pick through, it shouldn’t surprise anyone that the new movie has more than a few easter eggs and references to the series’ most famous moments and characters. Why wouldn’t there be? Why even make a new movie if you’re not going to throw your fans a bone or twenty exploding skulls?

We’re keeping track of all the neat easter eggs that fill the 2021 film, from obscure character references to loving nods to the games’ most gruesome Fatcalities. Here’s what we’ve found so far:

Kombat Jargon

Cole Young rightfully notes that “Mortal Kombat” is spelled incorrectly. Series creators Ed Boon and John Tobias each have their own explanation for the spelling. Boon claimed that “Combat” was a workshopped name for the game and someone added a K to be weird. Tobias said that the K was there just so they could trademark the term.

As it’s custom for the Mortal Kombat announcers to say who won each match, Kano takes care of this himself when he kills Reptile and smugly says, “Kano wins.”

When Kung Lao kills Nitara, he notes, “Flawless victory.” That’s what the announcers say in-game whenever someone has a perfect round. At least it’s used correctly here, unlike the original movie, where people would say, “Flawless victory,” in regards to fights where both sides took blows.

There are many deaths in the movie, but only Liu Kang announces, “Fatality,” like in the game.

Scorpion and Sub-Zero

Bi-Han killing Hanzo Hasashi has been depicted many times in Mortal Kombat media, though canonically in the game Mortal Kombat Mythologies: Sub-Zero. The version in this movie more closely resembles the events of the animated film Mortal Kombat Legends: Scorpion’s Revenge. The big difference that sets this movie apart from the others is the fact that Hanzo existed centuries ago and not in the present. That, and the depiction of Sub-Zero as pure evil. While Bi-Han is no saint, his killing of Hanzo is usually depicted as strictly business. In the games, the murder of Scorpion’s family is the doing of Quan Chi, who uses the tragedy to manipulate Scorpion into his service.

Outside of his feud with Scorpion, Sub-Zero’s villain status in this movie more closely matches the origin of Erron Black, the anachronistic Wild West gunslinger who first showed up in Mortal Kombat X. Centuries ago, Shang Tsung felt threatened by a potential challenger in the Mortal Kombat tournament. He hired Erron Black to assassinate the threat, and in return Tsung would teach Black the secrets to living for thousands of years.

Scorpion pulls off his classic Toasty Fatality, which also turns his mouth into charred bone. Scorpion’s always had this weird situation going on with his face where sometimes it’s flesh and sometimes it’s just a skull. Here, we get a bit of both!

Sonya Blade and Jackson Briggs

On Sonya’s research wall, there’s a book excerpt on a Native American tribe called Matokans, focusing on shamans and warriors. The clipping mentions a tribe member known as “the Night wolf.” Nightwolf is a character (and title) introduced in the third game. He strongly resembles the sketch included in the clipping. “Matokan Warrior” is one of his variations in Mortal Kombat 11.

Also on the wall is a photo of a sculpture of the Mayan God of War, Buluc Chabtan. In Mortal Kombat lore, this is the Outworld warrior Kotal Kahn, who for a time ventured into Earthrealm and was worshipped as a god by the Mayans. The character was introduced in Mortal Kombat X when he took over Outworld in the aftermath of Shao Kahn’s death. While still barbaric, his rule was considered more progressive than his predecessor’s.

While Sonya’s rings attack is treated as a superpower here, in the games, it’s treated as more of a high-tech wrist weapon.

The subplot about Sonya’s worth due to her lack of dragon tattoo could be interpreted as a commentary on how the original movie handled Sonya in the third act. Shang Tsung kidnapped her and chose to make her the finalist in the tournament, which everyone treated as a fight Sonya could never win in a million years. The way the original movie turned Sonya into a damnsel in distress annoys many fans to this day.

The origin of Jax’s metal arms has been told many different ways through the decades. He’s lost them at the hands of Baraka, Ermac, a Special Forces goon, and Goro. This is the first time Sub-Zero has been responsible.

Jax splattering his opponent’s head with a clap of the hands is a Fatality he’s had since Mortal Kombat II.

Kano and the Black Dragon

Kano has trouble using the GPS to track Raiden’s temple. This is probably a callback to the original movie, where Shang Tsung’s Island caused Sonya’s compass to go haywire.

Kano’s face gets clawed up, and later he’s able to shoot a red laser from his eye socket. In the games, Kano has a metal plate over his eye, giving him that laser ability.

The heart rip was Kano’s Fatality in the first game. He’s since introduced many variations of it.

The Black Dragon is brought up a few times. A scummier offshoot of the terrorist organization the Red Dragon, Kano’s group has included such characters as Kabal, Jarek, Kira, Kobra, Erron Black, and Tremor.

Kabal blames Kano for why he’s stuck in his respirator-based costume. In the games, Kabal was a Black Dragon member who left the group and became a cop. During the events of Mortal Kombat 3, Kabal was burned alive by Kintaro. Kano actually saved Kabal and hooked him up to the respirators in hopes of recruiting him. Shang Tsung tried to use magic to heal Kabal’s lungs, which gave him super-speed as a side-effect.

Kano refers to Raiden as “Gandalf” and considers his comrades’ magical attacks as “Harry Potter shit.” Fitting that Kano’s references keep with properties owned by Warner Bros.

Kano’s overall story here is a lot like the ’90s comic book Mortal Kombat: Rayden and Kano. In the comic, Rayden (they spelled it differently back then) attempted to hire Kano to help destroy Shao Kahn, as he was the descendant of a hero who liberated Outworld long ago. Kano ultimately betrayed Rayden, just as he betrays his teammates in this movie.

Liu Kang and Kung Lao

Kano refers to Liu Kang as “MC Hammer” due to their shared love of puffy pants.

Liu Kang brings up Master Bo’ Rai Cho, a character introduced in Mortal Kombat: Deadly Alliance. Bo’ Rai Cho (a play on “boracho” meaning “drunk” in Spanish) is an Outworld warrior who sympathized with Earthrealm and chose to protect it from Shao Kahn. Being from Outworld, he could not enter Mortal Kombat without it counting against Earthrealm. Instead, he’s dedicated thousands of years to training Shaolin warriors in hopes of one of them winning the tournament and ending Outworld’s streak. He mentored Liu Kang and Kung Lao firsthand.

Kung Lao mentions being the descendant of the original Kung Lao. The Great Kung Lao was a Shaolin monk who regularly defended Earthrealm in Mortal Kombat. He even defeated Shang Tsung at least once. But his streak came to an end at the hands of Goro. Later games revealed that the modern Kung Lao is a reincarnation of the original.

Games

Mortal Kombat: Sub-Zero and Scorpion’s Rivalry Explained

By Matthew Byrd

Movies

Mortal Kombat: The Challenges of Making the Movie Reboot

By Gene Ching

Liu Kang is able to get the better of Kano by spamming the leg sweep. This is a reference to a very annoying tactic in the early games.

The way Kung Lao kills Nitara is similar to his Fatality from Mortal Kombat 9, the difference being that, in the game, the victim is cut apart crotch-first.

Kung Lao dying to drive Liu Kang’s story forward is a regular trope in Mortal Kombat. Lao’s death first came in Mortal Kombat 3. But in the Mortal Kombat 9 reboot, Kung Lao went on a major winning streak during the retelling of Mortal Kombat II, but then Shao Kahn grabbed him from behind and snapped his neck. Liu Kang reacted by punching a hole through Kahn’s chest.

Raiden’s Temple

The paintings depict the Great Kung Lao standing over a beaten Shang Tsung. Kung Lao is probably the victim of the painting of Goro tearing a poor guy in half. Other images show Bi-Han murdering Hanzo and the rule of Shao Kahn, the true villain in the Outworld invasion.

One painting shows Argus and Delia, protectors of the realm Edenia, watching over the prone body of a bearded man with some kind of war going on in a cloud above. This man appears to be one of their sons, either Taven or Daegon. Both were put in a slumber as part of a prophecy/contest to stop Armageddon, an event where so many Mortal Kombat characters were at war that it threatened to destroy reality itself.

There’s a fan on display belonging to Kitana. Kitana is Shao Kahn’s adopted daughter and brainwashed assassin. She tends to betray Outworld and align herself with Liu Kang. Strangely, while she isn’t in this movie, her clone Mileena is.

Shang Tsung and Outworld

While Reptile has been around since the first Mortal Kombat game, the design used for the movie is based on Mortal Kombat: Deadly Alliance. Like in the game, Reptile’s abilities include invisibility, an extended tongue, and acid saliva.

In the games, Nitara first appeared in Mortal Kombat: Deadly Alliance. She’s depicted as a loner and manipulator who wants to bring back her lost vampire realm. A very random choice to be sure, but she also had a cameo in Mortal Kombat Legends: Scorpion’s Revenge, so somebody out there really digs her.

General Reiko was first introduced in Mortal Kombat 4 as one of Shinnok’s henchmen. He was given an extremely vague ending that had him running into a portal to parts unknown, but certain home ports expanded on it to show him putting on Shao Kahn’s mask, suggesting they were the same person. This was later handwaved away as Reiko just really liking Kahn’s mask and wanting power for himself.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

When Reiko was brought back in Mortal Kombat: Armageddon, he was given the giant warhammer as his weapon stance.

When killing Kung Lao, Shang Tsung tells him, “Your soul is mine!” That hammy quote was Shang Tsung’s go-to threat in the first movie. Also, eating souls is Tsung’s go-to Fatality in just about any game.

Goro threatens to tear out Cole’s spine. While that is more of Sub-Zero’s thing, it’s also the iconic Fatality that Mortal Kombat is remembered for. Fellow Shokan warrior Sheeva also has a spine-ripping Fatality in Mortal Kombat 11.

Johnny Cage

The movie ends with a teaser for Johnny Cage, who will presumably appear in the sequel if that project happens. In the final shot of the movie, we see a cropped image of a movie poster for Citizen Cage, one of Johnny’s many established movies from the game’s lore. The poster shows him wearing his large “CAGE” belt buckle, which was introduced in Mortal Kombat 9. That makes it all the more likely that he’ll have “JOHNNY” tattooed across his chest.

There’s another movie poster to the side that we can’t see too much of other than it having “Fist” in the title. Going on the games, this could be The Gist of My Fist or Dragon Fist.

Let us know in the comments if we missed anything!

The post Mortal Kombat Easter Eggs and Reference Guide appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3nnVX0U

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

8 notes · View notes