#i'd be too powerful if i could actually finish anything

[maomango-doodle]

im so so happy there's another midvalley fan out here i feel like I'm on gunsmoke because it's so barren . if you ever made merch id snap it up

YAYYY haha i'm glad my art can be a bit of water in the desert (ㅅ´ ˘ `)

Oh, I've never made merch but I *do* have a few midvalley-related things in the works (among other things) although it's happening INCREDIBLY slowly :') sooo maybe?? stay tuned???

In the meantime, have this lil freak I doodled the other day!

[tidetfs]

"Ugh, bro, pleeeeease?"

Max looked at me with those dopey blue eyes of his, staring dully through me and appearing to lack any kind of intelligence or perception.

"I told you, I have a very important club interview," I replied. "This could determine if I can network into a good job after college!" stressing the importance of a job, something my stoner roommate never seemed to understand.

"Just one hit, man, come on! You gotta stop worrying about that stuff and just chill out!" he replied, stretching his muscular arms over his head of greasy (probably unwashed) brown hair and closing his eyes, as if musing about something important. "You gotta try this weed bro, I just, I-" he stuttered as he took another hit. "I don't fuckin' know man, I think you just need this."

Exasperated, I dropped my heavy bag on the floor and strode over to his side of the room, switching to mouth breathing to avoid inhaling too much foot funk from his "clean pile" of clothes, as Max called it. Even three air fresheners weren't enough to keep the pungent smells of weed and sweat at bay.

"What the hell, dude, when's the last time you even washed those?!"

"Oh, I dunno, a couple weeks ago, maybe?" Max replied, shrugging.

I could see some of the dried crust still clinging to the fabric. I couldn't help but be amazed at the sheer size of his stash. The pile was easily four feet across, and it was clear Max was still working to roll his way through the rest. I couldn't even imagine where he got it all.

"Look, just let me finish my meeting, then I'll smoke with you, okay?"

Max's eyes lit up.

"Yeah, for real?" he replied, excited. "You promise? Pinky swear?"

Max stuck his hand out, his pinky raised and his arm shaking slightly. He looked like an overgrown child. I was so tired, I didn't even hesitate. I wrapped my pinky around his, then turned to walk out of the room. As soon as I let go, I felt a sudden, powerful wave of euphoria wash over me. It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. I couldn't even think straight, the sensation was so intense.

I collapsed against the doorway, unable to move. I could barely even think. The only thought that went through my mind was that I'd never felt this good in my life. Every inch of my skin tingled and buzzed, like a pleasant static that sent ripples of bliss through my muscles. I couldn't even control the way my body twitched and shivered.

"Duuuude," I heard Max say. "You feel that, man? I told you it's the good stuff."

I didn't know what was happening to me. My heart was racing and I couldn't breathe, and the feeling was getting more and more intense. "What..." I struggled to even sound out words. "I didn't even...take a hit..."

"Well, no, not technically," Max said, laughing. "But, uh, that's not what it was, actually. See, I sorta dosed your pinky."

I looked up at him, confused. My vision was blurry and I could barely see him, but he was grinning widely, and I could see the outline of his meaty, calloused hands rubbing the front of his jeans.

"See, it's like this, man. That wasn't weed. That was just, you know, a little something to get you to loosen up a bit. And, uh, well, there's this other thing, too. That shit I sprayed on your hand. It's not, uh, not exactly what you think."

The euphoria was fading, but it was still intense, and it was making my brain spin. "You sprayed my...hand?" I mumbled, barely able to understand what he was saying.

"Yeah, bro, I sorta had to, man. You kept getting me down with all your stress." He flexed his big biceps and gave one a kiss. "Now you're gonna be just like me!" He grinned wide, his perfect teeth glinting in the low light.

I couldn't respond. The sensations were still washing over me, but the euphoria was fading. As my brain began to work again, I suddenly realized that there was something wrong with me. There was a new, alien weight between my legs.

"Wha-what did you do?" I stammered, still dazed and confused. "What...what did you..."

I looked down, and froze. There was a huge, heavy bulge straining against the crotch of my jeans, stretching the thick material taut. It was huge. Like, absolutely massive. It was easily the size of my fist, maybe even bigger. It was so big and round, I could even see the outline of the individual balls.

"Duuuuude, bro, look at that fucking thing!" Max exclaimed, pointing and laughing. "It's totally fucking huge! Holy shit, man, it's the biggest cock I've ever seen in my life!"

I tried to speak, but I was still so confused, I couldn't get my mouth to form words.

"I didn't know they could get that big, man! Wow, bro, you're really packing a fucking cannon, you know that? Holy shit, it's so fucking hot." Max was practically drooling as he ogled the enormous bulge in my pants.

I could feel the heat radiating off of it, and I could tell it was pulsing and throbbing with each beat of my heart. The sensation was incredibly intense.

"It's...it's not possible..." I stammered, my voice cracking. "What...what did you spray?"

"Bro, I'm telling you, it's totally normal!" Max said, trying his best to sound reassuring. "My friend from home, he said, well, it's just that..." Max stammered again, his usually peaceful face betraying some shyness. "I've always thought you were cute, even without that package. You just needed to loosen up a little. And, I mean, I just wanted you to be, like, comfortable with me. It was just a little bit, man, and it was totally safe. Like, I swear, it's totally normal, dude." He grinned and shot me a wink. "Soon you're going to be just like me."

Max was still staring at the massive bulge, and I could see the outline of his huge dick stretching the crotch of his jeans.

"Dude, bro, I-" my hand shot to my mouth. I had never used those words in the same sentence before! "I...I didn't mean that!"

"Oh, yeah, dude," Max replied, not even noticing. "It's totally normal, bro. You're just a little high is all."

"High?!" I shouted, exasperated. "This isn't...I'm not...this isn't how people talk!"

Max just shrugged. "Bro, you've always been a nerd, and it's cool, man, I totally get it. But this is a big step forward. You're gonna love this. I swear."

I couldn't believe this was happening. I was still trying to process everything that was happening to me, when I heard Max's voice.

"Duuuuuude, check it out, bro," he said, gesturing to the bulge in his jeans. "We're, like, totally packing!"

"I can't..."

"Oh, shit, right. Dude, you gotta feel this."

Max quickly reached down and grabbed the bulge in my pants. As soon as he made contact, I felt a powerful surge of pleasure ripple through me. My body immediately responded to his touch, and I could feel my new cock throb and twitch. I groaned, unable to hold back the sounds.

"Dude, holy shit, bro, it's like, really sensitive or something," Max said, his eyes wide. "Like, really, really fucking sensitive, bro."

"No, it's...not..." I moaned, but I could tell it was a lie. It felt like Max's hand was squeezing my balls, and the pleasure was incredible.

"Fuck, bro, it's, like, really fucking sensitive, dude. Like, fucking, crazy fucking sensitive." Max was practically drooling, and his eyes were glazed over. He was clearly enjoying this a lot.

"Please, stop..."

"Fuck, bro, you're so fucking hard," Max groaned. He started to rub my bulge, and his other hand went to the front of his own jeans. "...and, you're so pretty too. I just don't want to lose you to all those meetings, bro. I want you to be with me."

"Wait, no, what are you doing?"

"I can't hold back anymore, dude, I gotta see your big dick," Max replied, unzipping my jeans and reaching in. He slowly pulled down, and my eyes widened as he revealed the huge, throbbing bulge in my underwear. It was so big, the fabric was stretched tight, and it was already soaked in pre-cum.

"Holy shit, dude, that thing is huge!" Max exclaimed, his voice cracking. He was staring at my huge bulge with a lustful expression, and his long tongue darted out to lick his lips. "It's, like, fucking, massive."

I looked down and was shocked by what I saw. It was easily twice as big as it had been just a few minutes ago. It was still growing, and it was stretching the fabric of my boxer-briefs to the limit. Max began to move closer, scrambling to take off his busted old t-shirt, meaty pecs and perfect washboard abs busting out as he did. He leaned forward, and his massive bicep brushed against my new rock-hard dick.

"Oh, shit, bro, fuck," Max moaned as he leaned in closer. At this point I could almost feel the waves of sweat and weed rolling off his huge body, and my cock was throbbing and leaking, straining against the tight fabric of my underwear.

"You're so hot, dude," Max said, reaching out to grab my huge bulge, wrapping his meaty hand around it. His hand was warm and rough, and his grip was strong, squeezing my bulge and causing a fresh burst of pleasure. "You're, like, fucking sexy as hell, man."

"What the hell, bro, no, that's not...that's not right!" I stammered, but Max's words sent a thrill through me. I could feel my cheeks burning, and I could feel the heat radiating from my skin. "That's not, I'm not a fag!"

"You sure about that, bro?" he asked, giving it a tug and sending a bolt of pleasure through my body. I felt the euphoria return. This time, it was a hundred times more intense.

"Fuuuuck," I groaned, leaning my head back. "Bro, it feels so fucking good."

"I know, right? And it's going to feel even better when you're a stoner like me, dude." Max replied, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Fuck, bro, I can't take it, I gotta get naked," Max moaned, frantically undoing his belt and shucking his pants. "I'm so fucking hard, bro, I can't wait to fuck you."

I looked down, and for the first time, got a good look at my new equipment. It was absolutely massive. It was huge and thick, easily the biggest cock I'd ever seen, and it was still growing. It was 10 inches long, and thicker than a beer can. My balls were huge, too, hanging heavy and swollen between my legs. I'd never felt anything like it.

The sensation continued to wash over me, slowly becoming heat as I began to sweat. It felt amazing. I couldn't control myself, I was already starting to moan and groan, and the euphoria was starting to mix with my arousal. My new cock was so sensitive, and the slightest touch made it throb and pulse.

"It's starting!" Max shouted, looking at my side of the room as my clean and organized things started to transform. My desk became cluttered with bongs and pipes, and posters of the periodic table were suddenly replaced by scantily clad men. My clothes started to change, too. My formerly neat shirts were suddenly full of holes and stained with various substances. My shoes were replaced with flip flops and Crocs.

"I can't take it, man, I'm too horny, I need to kiss you, right now," Max moaned, his voice shaking with desperation. "I've been waiting for this day, dude, and I can't hold back any longer."

Before I could protest, Max leaned in and kissed me, his big, thick tongue probing my mouth. The heat was overwhelming, and his kisses were passionate and hungry. His big, rough hands began to explore my body, rubbing and stroking and caressing every inch of me. He broke away from the kiss and buried his face in my neck, licking and nibbling and kissing. He was so close, I could feel the heat from his body, and I could smell the overpowering funk of stale sweat and reeking weed. It was so powerful I almost didn't notice my feet begin to ache and the pain in my lower back.

"What's...what's happening to me, bro?" I asked, my voice breaking. "I feel...I feel like...fuck, bro, it hurts!"

"You're changing, dude," Max replied, grinning. "It's the weed. You're finally becoming one with the bud."

"Fuck, bro, I can't hold back anymore," Max moaned. He reached down and began to stroke his giant cock, pre-cum pouring from the tip. It was easily 9 inches, and his massive balls were swollen and heavy with greasy, unwashed hair.

My feet continued to ache and burn as they stretched out, becoming bigger and broader. I could feel my bones shifting and rearranging, long tufts of sweaty hair sprouting out of my feet as they morphed into giant, hairy stumps. I couldn't believe it. The changes were getting more and more intense, and it was driving me wild. I felt like I was going to explode.

"I can't take it anymore," Max groaned, his voice a husky growl. " I have to make you mine."

Without hesitation, Max grabbed my shoulders and spun me around, pushing me face-first into my mattress. His hands were rough and strong, and he easily manhandled me.

"Holy fuck, dude, your ass, it's..." Max moaned, his voice filled with lust. "It's so fucking huge."

My ass was getting bigger and rounder, and it was stretching the seat of my boxer-briefs to the limits, and I felt a sharp, sudden pain as the fabric gave way and tore, leaving my huge, jiggly, fat, bubble butt exposed.

"I'm so horny, bro" Max moaned, his voice shaky and breathy, as my ass filled with greasy, oily stink, the air thick with the musk of unwashed flesh and reeking, unwashed funk.

"You're so hot, dude. It's so hot that you're getting stoned."

"What? Bro, that's not...wait!"

"Don't worry, dude, you'll get used to it. It's just the weed talking."

"No, wait, bro, you can't..." I moaned again as my legs began to push me taller, my thighs and calves widening and thickening. My feet swelled even more, filling to a size 13, and a sudden rush of heat swept over my body.

"Fuck, dude, you're so fucking hot, man," Max groaned, his voice thick with lust, rubbing my new, tick legs as dark, swirly hair began to sprout, quickly becoming matted with the sweat of hours upon hours of mindless smoking.

"Please, bro, stop," I moaned, as my body began to shake. "I can't take it, I'm gonna...I'm gonna cum."

"Dude, that's the whole point, bro," Max replied, his voice trembling. "Just relax, and let it happen. It's gonna feel so fucking good."

"It's too much," I moaned, my cock throbbing and pulsing. "It's too intense."

"I know, dude, it's just the weed, bro. It'll feel better after you get used to it. Trust me."

I could feel the hair begin to creep onto my stomach and chest, quickly spreading and covering me in a layer of greasy, foul-smelling, sweaty body hair.

"Dude, are you seriously not feeling this, too?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Bro, I can't take it, please, just stop, it's too much."

"Dude, chill, you're fine," Max replied, flipping me back over and rubbing his hand over my new abs and thickening pecs. "Just enjoy the ride."

"Wait, no, I'm not...fuuuuck!"

The sensation was so intense, it was driving me wild. I could barely even think. My pecs were growing larger and heavier, and my nipples were swelling and darkening, the areolae growing thicker and hairier.

"Fuuuuuck, dude, you're so fucking sexy," Max groaned, grabbing a fistful of hair and giving it a sharp tug, making me moan with pleasure.

My cock was throbbing and leaking pre-cum, and I could feel the heat coming from it. My balls were swollen and heavy, and they were aching for release.

"Fuck, dude, I can't take it," Max moaned, his voice filled with desperation, shoving his face into my pit as they began to grow and deepen, quickly filling with rank, musky body odor. As he licked, my arms grew longer and wider, my biceps and triceps growing thicker and bulkier. My forearms became thicker and more defined, and my hands and fingers were getting bigger and beefier.

"Bro, it's so fucking good." Max's voice was muffled by my armpit, and I could feel his tongue lapping up the stale sweat and musk.

My arms were now completely covered in thick, greasy, matted hair, and the same was happening to my back, the swirly pattern spreading like a wildfire. My shoulders were growing larger and rounder, and I could feel the muscles shifting and rearranging.

"Please, dude, don't...I can't..."

"I can't stop, bro, you're so hot," Max moaned, his face buried in my pit. I could smell our odors mixing together as our muscular bodies writhed against each other, slick with sweat and the stinking smell of weed.

I was so turned on.

"You're so hot, bro," Max moaned, his pre-cum leaking all over the place.

"No, bro, what?" I moaned, my voice trembling. "I'm not a faggot."

"That's just the weed, dude," Max replied, his voice low and husky. "You're gonna love it."

"Please, no," I moaned, but I knew he was right. I was so turned on, and the weed was driving me wild as my neck and jaw began to fill out and widen, my Adam's apple growing into a large, meaty knob.

I moaned as my voice deepened, the vibrations reverberating through me, causing me to shiver, my speech becoming permanently relaxed, just like my roommate's.

"Fuck," Max groaned, going in for a slobbery, wet kiss, our body heat generating enough stink to make me gag.

My body was now covered in matted, swirly body hair, and it was growing thicker and greasier, the same thing happening to my chest. I could feel my pecs bulging even more as my face was being smothered in kisses and licks, my nose cracking into a previously-broken shape and the skin becoming rough and scarred.

"Oh, fuck, dude, you're so fucking hot," Max moaned, burying his face in my thick neck, his voice muffled by the hair.

"No, please, bro," I moaned, my voice cracking. "I can't take it, it's too much."

"You can do it, bro, just hold on a little longer," Max replied, his voice shaky.

My tongue grew thicker and longer, and it started to loll out of my mouth, my face cracking into model-level handsomeness. I was so turned on, and I couldn't take it anymore. My balls were throbbing and pulsing, and my cock was throbbing and pulsing.

"I'm gonna cum," I moaned, my voice deep and slow.

"Do it, bro," Max moaned, his voice trembling. "Do it, cum all over me, bro."

I felt his fingers run across my short hair, sending a shiver down my spine. My body was wracked with pleasure as I felt ropes of rancid, stinking cum shoot from my cock, splattering his chest and stomach. I couldn't control myself, I was moaning and groaning, the intense orgasm rocking my body, my new, masculine frame shaking and quivering.

With each rope, my bright green eyes became dimmer and dimmer, coloring grayer and grayer as all of my worries and stress flowed out of me, and I fell into a state of bliss, my cock still twitching and throbbing as the last change began. My hair grew longer and thicker, until it was a long, shaggy, dirty mess, and a fresh wave of fresh musk rose off me.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," I moaned, my voice deep and slow, my tongue lolling out of my mouth.

"Fuck, dude, you're so fucking sexy," Max moaned, his voice cracking. "I can't believe it, dude. You're, like, totally a stoner now, bro."

"Haha, yeah man...wait bro, haven't I always been?" I looked at myself in the dingy dorm mirror, and realized I looked like a dumb, stoned idiot. My voice was deeper, and my accent was different. My hair was messy and unwashed, and my skin was tanned. My pecs were massive and my abs were rock hard. My cock was huge and throbbing. My feet were hairy and stinky. I had a huge, round, bubble butt.

I laughed a deep, airy chuckle.

"That's right" Max said, staring into my dull eyes. He seemed like the hottest man I had ever laid eyes on until I realized.

"I love you, dude." Max giggled.

"Yeah man, I love you, too" I slurred, leaning in for a sloppy kiss, my tongue probing his mouth, the taste of weed and sweat overwhelming. He returned the favor, and soon, we were a mess of sloppy, stoner kisses, our thick, stubbly chins rubbing together, the sound of slurping and licking filling the room.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," I groaned, the kiss ending, both of us breathing heavy and panting, a mixture of spit dripping from our chins. "That was, like, totally amazing, dude."

"Fuck, yeah, bro, it was fucking awesome," Max groaned, his voice trembling. "I've been waiting for this for, like, ever, bro. It's fucking crazy."

"Yeah, dude, totally," I replied, staring at his gorgeous, masculine features. His big, thick arms, his perfect washboard abs, his massive pecs, and his perfect, handsome face. He was fucking hot, and he was all mine.

[eaterofman]

Yandere Coworker Harem x New Hire Reader: A Meeting with the CEO

Follow up to this post

Finally fed up with it all, you decide to leave... but you learn it may not be that easy.

Content Warnings: General creepiness, yanderes, financial manipulation, manipulation, power difference, gaslighting

AN: Holy shit the first part blew up, more so than any post I've ever made on tumblr... ever. Thank y'all, and I hope this lives up to everyone's expectations? Had to ignore a few asks since they were essentially the plot to this part, haha.

As nice as Jake is... it starts to wear on you. The seclusion from your other coworkers, Warren and Jax's constant attention, it all becomes too much. This was the easiest money you've ever made, but it almost felt... condescending in a way. Seriously, you feel like you haven't actually worked in months, just given simple tasks to complete so that Jax could praise you. Otherwise, you felt like you were just eye candy set in a pretty office. No more, you figure. You make up your mind to go back to HR, it's been a long time coming. They either fix it, or you're gone.

With your mind made up, you return to Leon. He'd been so kind before, surely he'd help, right? As you explain your problems to him, he nods and gently smiles. In your distress, you don't notice his hand moving to cover yours, massaging yours comfortingly. You welcome the comforting sensation, overwhelmed to the point of not really considering the implications. You look into his dark eyes as you finish, silently pleading with him for help.

"That really is something. I'm sorry to hear your experience with the company has been so distressing. Tell me, do you have any proof?"

His demeanor seems to shift instantly back to the colder man you remember from your first sight of him. His fingers rubbing gentle circles into your palm shift into a harsher grip.

"Proof? I-I mean, the cameras have probably caught something?"

You'd say there were eyewitnesses, but all of your other coworkers had been avoiding you. You barely even knew their names...

"Unfortunately, our cameras have been malfunctioning lately, I doubt they'd catch anything. Without any actual witnesses, I'm afraid I can't do anything for you."

"How can you say that without even looking? This place is insane- you know what? I'm just quitting. I can't take this anymore."

You try to remove your hand but he keeps it there. His gaze is suddenly ice cold. He lets your hand go after a few moments of tension, fingers lingering before you yank your hand to your chest.

"Ah, you could quit... but I'd really recommend against it. You'd of course have to pay the dues you signed in your contract, as well as any additional fees. I'm not in charge of finances, but my estimate would be somewhere around... 200 thousand or so?"

You gasp, blood running cold. 200 thousand?! You don't remember signing that, but you also don't recall really reading over the contract in your excitement. You try to think of a way out, surely there had to be some sort of loophole-

"Of course, there's always the option of asking the CEO to change your contract, but..."

You'd tuned anything after that out, insisting to meet with the CEO as soon as possible. Which, to your surprise, was almost immediately. Almost like he'd been... waiting for you? Leon himself lead you to the CEO's room, at the very top of the skyscraper your office resided in. As you're let in, you're met with the biggest office you'd ever seen. It composed of the entire top floor of the skyscraper, massive windows encircling the entire ornate office.

You really try to ignore the feeling that you're walking into a trap.

The CEO was patiently waiting for you. Like a king on a throne, he sat in the middle of the room in front of a surprisingly simple desk. You'd heard of the CEO, Kennedy Grey, but you'd never met him in person before. He had an air of sophistication around him, an older gentlemen with salt and pepper hair and a well trimmed beard. His suit was pristine and looked expensive, probably costing more than your entire yearly salary. He smiled, urging the two of you to sit. His eyes glanced over to Leon's, a slight smirk on his face as if the two were in on a joke you weren't.

"So, what brings you two here? I've heard very good things about you from Jax. Things are going well, I presume?"

You fidget, despite his welcoming tone, he felt oddly... menacing. Like you weren't supposed to disagree with him, even if he asked you a question. You begin to explain your issues, but are quickly stopped with a firm look of disapproval when you bring up the idea of leaving the company.

"Now now, we can't have that, can we? With your contract, that wouldn't be a very smart idea, would it?"

Before you can even respond, he simply continues to talk over you.

"No, no it wouldn't. And you've just been such a good worker, we'd just hate to lose you."

"Well, I was actually hoping we could talk about the contract, I just don't think it's fair-" you can barely get your thoughts out as he cuts you off again.

"Unfair? But my dear, you signed it. I'd just hate to get my lawyers involved... they're top of the line, y'know? Besides, you don't actually want to leave, you're just... stressed. What do you need, a paid week off? A bonus for your hard work?"

"No-"

"Well, now that that's done, let's get back to work, shall we? You'll have a bonus on your next pay-"

You've had enough of his condescension and interruptions, it's time for you to interrupt him.

"You know what, I'll take the lawsuit. You people are insane. You can have the money if you want, but I'm out of here."

As you get up, you find you can't. Leon has moved behind you, surprisingly strong arms holding your chair in, preventing you from moving. You look up at him in angered confusion, but he's sharing a look with Kennedy. You once again feel like you're missing an important part of an inside joke again. You try to struggle, but you're stopped as Kennedy interrupts.

"Apartment 101, Evergreen Apartments, right?"

"W-wha-"

"You know, I've been venturing into the rental market recently. Very profitable at the moment. I actually just bought a few buildings in your area, including your little apartment. Such a shame, you know you could do better, right? All you have to do is ask..."

He smiles at you as if this was a normal conversation to him, like he was doing you a favor.

"I guess that makes me your landlord now, if you think about it!" his smile turns colder, eyes crinkling like he's laughing at you, "That being said, I just don't see how you're going to pay for the rent increase without this job. I hate to do it, but it's a necessity, y'know? Cost of living and such."

He waves his hand like it's no big deal, like he isn't playing with your livelihood and threatening you.

"You could move out, of course, but well, word gets around, and I just don't know how the other investors in the area would react to your... history."

You feel dread well up in the pit of your stomach and tears in your eyes. He... has you. What could you even do? Moving out of the city would mean starting over, and that's if you could even find a place and a job to pay for said place, and paying for the lawsuit-

In your panic, you can only whimper, "I just... why? Why me? i don't understand-"

"That's the beauty of it all, you don't have to. All you have to worry about is coming in and doing your job. We'll handle all the rest."

You jump, having almost forgotten Leon was behind you in your panic. You go to open your mouth-

"Wonderful insight, Leon. Now that we're all on the same foot, let's get back to work, shall we?"

You can only numbly nod your head, too overwhelmed to continue fighting.

You're finally allowed to sit up and begin walking towards the door, trying to speed walk out of the huge room that somehow managed to feel claustrophobic. You just wanted out at this point, you needed somewhere to think.

As you step into the elevator, Leon staying behind in the office-thank god-you're interrupted one final time.

"Oh, and I meant what I said. If you ever need any assistance, anything at all, just come to me. All you have to do is ask."

[fraugwinska]

Whoop - There it is! :> Glad to be back, folks! It's been too long, but I finished this behemoth of a Oneshot (7.1 k words FTW!) and I can't wait to see what you're thinking! Riding Alastor? ✅ Rut/Heat? ✅ NSFW? ✅ (Sorry minors!)

Thank you to @macabr3-barbi3 and also @ritualofcirice for encouraging me throughout the writing process - I'd still be rewriting and overthinking if it wasn't for you! <3 ILY

“Alastor, again?! Seriously, this has to stop. Look at the poor girl.”

“Oh Charlotte, don’t make an elephant out of a house fly – she knows it’s all in good fun, don’t you darling? No hard feelings, hm?”

You forced yourself to smile, although it must’ve looked strained, as you were still trying to get your tail to depuff.

“He’s right – no harm done, Charlie. It’s fine.”

Of course, it was anything but fine. Your whole system was still dialed in on the danger you had felt yourself in not two minutes ago. You should’ve been used to it by now. But you weren’t, and your feverish, nervous state you had been in lately didn’t help either.

Alastor had found sick pleasure in tormenting you since the moment you stepped foot in this cursed hotel.

You came after speaking to Cherri one night in the shady bar you worked at the time, not really believing that you could actually be redeemed but what she promised you’d find there: That the people there were weird but actually bearable to be around and lodging was free. The prospect of quitting your job, freeing yourself from that lewd, ambiguous boss of yours that also happened to be your landlord with a tendency to let his eyes linger too long on all the wrong places was too tempting to pass. Cherri’s latter statement was right, the room you were provided was almost as big as your flat, and the princess refused any compensation… even the meals were free. And for the first five minutes you thought her first one was, too. Charlotte Morningstar, daughter of Lucifer himself, welcomed you with open arms, and the other residents were a quirky, eccentric but still mostly friendly and fun bunch. But then it had begun – small at first, bolder by every passing day.

Alastor’s insistent, relentless, illogical bullying.

You knew about the radio demon, of course. You were neither naïve nor stupid - despite some acquaintances of yours would beg to differ - having heard and read too much about him not to be respectful yet distanced. Wary, but polite.

You were both woodland creatures, although he, despite being a deer demon, normally a prey animal, in a hilarious twist turned out far more powerful, dangerous and predatory than you. A fox demon, slender, clever and with an air of elegance and mystery around you – well, at least on the outside. The only thing you shared with your animalistic form was that you had a quick-witted, although very scattered, mind. You were a klutz, often speaking before thinking, getting yourself into trouble more often than being able to think or talk your way out of it. But you had been careful to tame that loose tongue of yours around him, not wanting to get on his bad side. And you weren’t, not in that literal sense.

You had barely introduced yourself, your new room key in hand and following the deer that enthusiastically offered to guide you to the right floor “as a good host would”, when you felt your foot being grabbed and twisted mid-step, making you tumble down a full flight of stairs. The grinning demon remained standing on the top, looking down on you with glowing eyes and a smug smile while you struggled to stand back up, your ankle sharply throbbing with pain. “Oh my, seems you are a flight risk, my dear.” He had said with a low chuckle, and if you’d usually reason that this incident had just been due to your general clumsiness, the deep satisfaction you could see in his eyes as you limped back up the stairs made it apparent that this wasn’t the case here.

From then on, stranger things just appeared to happen to you. They were slight nuisances at first, like getting locked in rooms that didn't even have keyholes or following stairs leading into nowhere, ending up in you getting exceedingly lost or terribly late to Charlies exercises, or furniture simply collapsing underneath you during dinners or get-togethers. Those incidents always were inconspicuously accompanied by the presence of Alastor, who appeared seemingly out of nowhere and with some kind of casual joke he cracked at your misfortunes, but there always was something about him that told you these so-called jokes were in a way maliciously aimed at you, more thinly-veiled accusations more than lighthearted antics.

As time went by his efforts became less discreet - he tried less and less to hide the fact that he was the cause of your various misfortunes. Things you carried with you disappeared, just to land into his hands... always personal, embarrassing stuff that he theatrically and loudly announced to anyone near before giving it back to you. "You surely didn't mean to drop this, darling, though I must say that sage green doesn't suit you at all." he had purred one time, twirling some lacy piece of underwear of yours in his hands when you had retrieved your laundry to carry it back to your room, holding it just long enough out of the reach of your panicked attempts to snatch it from him so that the whole lobby could stare in interest, pity or amusement before he finally let it fall into your hands. You were tripped even more, his shadow blatantly laughing at you from under the feet it was holding to make sure you'd fall, and his obviously faked tutting at it with that devious smile of his stung even more than the words that came with it.

"Now, now, don't look so affronted, my dear - what's a harmless prank between friends? No hard feelings, hm?"

That became a catchphrase of his - a question not so much directed towards the victim but an exclamation directed at everyone present to assure them that everything happening was harmless and perfectly okay. And you always played along.

Truth was - despite rhyme or reason – that you were infatuated with him. His witty sense of humor, that mischievous grin that set off so many alarm bells yet was oddly charming, the power and knowledge he was carrying inside him that showed on how effortlessly he handled any situation... maybe it was because he was almost everything you were lacking that you endured his relentless teasing. In addition to the respect you had for the older demon's dangerous side, the little flicker of hope in the corner of your mind that he might someday turn from 'funny but cruel' to just 'fun' if you'd prevail long enough was too strong and it became easier every day for you to try not to be bothered with each new stunt Alastor would pull, hoping that today would be the day where something in the impenetrable brick wall that seemed to be him would crack, allowing your real self to show through and find some acknowledgement in his eyes.

What had just occurred, however, had you question that hope tremendously. You had felt hot and feverish since yesterday, suspecting you'd maybe coming down with something. But as much as you tried to avoid the others as to not spread whatever disease you were cooking up, you seemed to keep running into them.

Not all of them, just the men, though.

New residents, delivery men, even Husk and Angel seemed to smell you from afar. They popped up everywhere, and you thought yourself delusional when they stood unusually close to you, were uncomfortably touchier and their eyes more intense and even hungry when they stared at you as you practically fled from them with the excuse of getting sick. The only one who kept his distance for once was Alastor, who you only saw once, with a twitching grin on his face and a dangerous aura of his shadows around him that seemed to flicker with dark energy when Julius, one of the newest hotel guests, had cornered you and put one of his bear paws much too low on your hips, suggesting to get a drink with him to cool you off. Though you had a feeling that the radio demons glowing eyes continued to stalk you, even without seeing him again. You had decided to skip dinner and just go to bed, hoping that whatever was happening to you, it'd be over by the morning.

But the night didn't bring any relief, you just woke up in more sweat and short-breathed exhaustion, filled with a dreading sense of anticipation for something unknown to you, as if your body was in constant alert mode. After checking the time, finding it close to breakfast and your stomach twisting with hunger, you made your way downstairs, hoping it was early enough for the others to still sleep and to catch Charlie alone and talk to her, not knowing how to describe the feelings you had felt but sure that somehow the hellborn princess could tell you what the hell was wrong with you. But as soon as you turned corner on the first landing base, you had felt it - electricity in the air.

In the blink of a moment, the floor became dark and gloomy, shadows creeping out from the growing void’s fraying edges, and instinctively you turned on your heels to practically fly down the hundreds of steps just in time before the deafening screech hit your ears. Every strand of your copper fur stood on its root as you panted, flaying yourself around another corner and watching a beast with familiar, yet obscurely twisted and long antlers crash into the wall behind you in frenzied pursuit. For one second too long you were frozen in place, realizing two things.

One: That it was Alastor that was chasing you.

And Two: That as soon as you knew it was him, your body reacted with a sudden wave of heat and ache, the thought of fleeing completely wiped from your mind but instead turning as if to throw itself into his waiting claws.

The momentum of the crash made him swipe at you, and without that one second too long that you would’ve needed to react, you didn't have time to dodge it. Instead, you had lost balance and fell backwards down the stairs, the impact on the tiled marble floor of the hotel lobby so loud it had Charlie and Vaggie rushing out of the kitchen and hurry towards your shocked and sprawled out, but miraculously unharmed form.

"Are you sure you're okay? You’re burning up…" Charlie asked, her hands gently rubbing the back of your neck as both women helped you back up.

"You look pretty rough..." Vaggie added, her brows furrowed. You were sure you looked like a complete mess - your hair sticking out in all directions, your tail bristled, your shirt damp and the fabric clinging to your flushed body, your pupils blown and your breath shallow.

"I-I'm fine, it's just a little fever. But, listen-"

A hand on your shoulder made you instantly mute, long, red tipped claws digging slightly into the thin fabric of your shirt, not breaking through but still stinging the flesh underneath. Its heat soaked like hot oil through the cloth down into your skin, burning its way deep into your core.

"How about I escort you back to your room, darling, as my way of apologizing for my little... shenanigans. We wouldn't want your current state to... affect the others. Does that sound reasonable?"

His voice was sickeningly sweet, almost too innocent, the smile on his face wide and his eyes twinkling in almost a warning that only you caught. From the corners of your eyes you saw Vaggie turning red with anger and ready to blow up at him, and Charlie, worriedly fidgeting with a conflicted face. If you'd stay silent, the girls surely would take you out of his grasp safely. You could escape him. Any logical mind would take that chance without second guessing, especially after what happened just mere minutes ago.

"That'd be nice, Alastor."

The walk back to your room was tense and quiet. His hand had left your shoulder, and the coldness it left behind made you want to wince. Your mind was still fuzzy and your body aflame, but as you climbed up the stairs, his tall figure close behind you, the space between the two of you suddenly felt much too large after the novelty of actual, physical contact. It just occurred to you that indeed, he had never touched you before - the pushing, shoving and teasing all done by the sentient extension of his shadow companion that followed him everywhere he went. But he had never directly touched you - until now. Innocently enough, and yet you couldn't seem to shake the weight of the ghostly hand still present on the dip of your neck. The thought alone made your tail shiver, and the sudden realization made your legs move faster, the tension in the air almost suffocating.

Reaching your door, you take a deep breath. The air around you smelled musky and thick, a scent that you could've sworn wasn't there before, and the feeling of his looming presence behind you almost makes you dizzy. You turn the key with slightly shaking hands and turn as you open it, expecting him to make a snide remark and say his goodbyes for now. Instead, you don't even get to move your head before his hand returns, this time on your lower back, to all but shove you into the room, followed by him, and the loud thud and click told you he'd closed it shut and locked it, the chiming of your key on the keychain shrill in your ears.

"You seem to be in quite the predicament, my dear."

He hummed, taking slow, deliberate steps towards you, and as much as your instincts told you to back away, the fire inside you had flared up and you stood still, waiting, anticipating.

"Your little display yesterday was a nice touch. A little too theatrical, perhaps, but not everyone has the natural talent for drama like I do, hah!"

He chuckled, coming to a halt barely a foot in front of you, his eyes gleaming with something you had seen before, but couldn't name. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice level.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about."

"Oh, don't play coy now, little vixen. You weren't really discreet in your search for a willing mate, but I thought you'd at least show some decorum not to flaunt your pheromones like this." You stared at him, a bit dumbfounded and the gears in your brain turning much too slow.

"...Mate? Wh-what pheromones? What are you talking about, Alastor?"

He blinked, tilting his head. His gaze was piercing, and yet you could've sworn he had a hard time keeping it on you, as if he wanted to look anywhere but at you. "Don't tell me you don't know?" he purred, a dark smirk pulling at his lips, a slight glimmer of the yellowish hue of his sharp teeth showing from behind them.

"How quaint. I'm afraid I didn't take into consideration that you are not the type to make yourself acquainted with the hellish form you took on. Why, you're in heat, darling. A very... desperate and needy one, at that."

You were unable to speak. You had known that something was off yesterday, when the men started crowding around you like vultures, their eyes hungry and their approaches over-eager, but not once had the word 'heat' come up in your mind. You had been in Hell for not even nine months, not exactly long enough to really explore all its nuances and differences. You had only heard the term 'heat' being used before in relation to animals – which, in hindsight, you technically were, in a way. Your ears and cheeks burned and your head was swimming, your tongue like a dry piece of sandpaper in your mouth.

"H-how did you... why did you..."

Alastor sighed, taking a few steps towards the windows. "As I said, darling, you weren't very subtle. And neither were the buffoons that stumbled over their own feet trying to make you choose them. The smell of a vixen in heat is hard to resist, after all." His head fell back, and the expression he wore when he looked at you was both frightening and intoxicating. "And the scent that clings to you is absolutely divine."

His words made you blush and shudder, the ache between your thighs growing so embarrassingly strong you quickly tore your eyes from him and looked at your hands that were fumbling with your damp shirt. He hadn't even touched you, but your body was already begging for him, as if it knew his presence would be the solution to all your suffering. Why were you reacting like this to him, and not the others that had swarmed you yesterday? It made no sense, none of it did.

"Why were you chasing me, then?"

The question escaped you before you could bite your tongue, and he turned around, a brow raised but his smile wider now and the smug amusement that was so habitual of him returning to his eyes .

"Well, my dear, you were running."

He laughed at your expression of shock and dismay, obviously proud of himself as you opened your mouth and closed it again and again, no words leaving it. You watched him raise his hand up as a means to silence your inevitable ramble, to stop you before you were even able to find something to say. "Although I have to admit that I quite lost myself a bit in the heat of the moment - pun intended. Which brings us back to topic."

He was closer now. Not fully in your personal space but in the almost invisible borders between friendly distance and invading closeness, arms behind his back and a mocking grin on his face.

"Now what will you do, little vixen in heat? Unlike our earthly counterparts, demons in heat stay in it unless they've bred sufficiently - Oh no, it'll only become worse the longer it’s avoided. Do you have one of the many low-rank rutting sacks that are roaming about the hotel just for a chance to fill you up in mind to sate your needs? Most of those unworthy imbeciles would happily spread their seed into you, but - Oh dear, where's the fun in settling?"

You couldn't think straight. You knew what he was insinuating but couldn't bring yourself to truly understand and accept the gravity of the situation. It felt too much like a dream, your mind foggy with fever and every nerve and muscle in your body aching. You knew by now that your mind had chosen the one you wanted long before your body forced a decision. But despite the painful want you were scared of saying it out loud, just to be rejected. Left wanting. The perfect and most cruel tease he could use against you yet, delivered by your own damned nature.

Alastor clicked his tongue, pacing from your one side to the other like a shark in the span of your thoughts that slowly began to settle, rubbing his chin in false contemplation. Your eyes followed him absent-mindedly, and when the whirlwind of your thoughts quieted for a moment, you saw with shock that pearly beads of sweat began to form under that fiery fringe of his hair and the fingers tapping on his chin twitched ever so slightly.

“Well, your scent certainly tells me what you seem to be unable to. But good things only come for the ones that ask for it, darling.”

Again, the tingling that started to become oh so familiar shot down to your belly with the heavy pull that the glint in his eyes had on you. Maybe it was the primal need you felt playing a trick on you but something in his composure, normally so perfectly put and stoic, struck you as hastier and more unrefined. The barely hidden jerk of his ears, the slightly glossy sheen in his eyes, and that intensifying smell of musk and moss and spices oozing from him all were subtle but noticeable telltale signs, just small imperfections in his person, tiny cracks of his façade that grew larger and louder the longer he was alone with you. And finally, they began to speak a language you knew.

Without knowing the details, you became aware, sensing that he, too, wasn't nearly as collected as he liked to present himself. As if the fact that he was here, alone in the room with you was enough to allow him to slip up, ever so subtly and most certainly not intentional. You had noticed from day one that it was nearly impossible to truly get a read of his emotions, an impressive trait you envied to some degree. Yet, the most rational part of his brain appeared to have shut off when his pupils widened ever so slightly as you closed the distance between your bodies, finally throwing caution and fear and hesitancy to the wind. It was a leap of faith.

"I… want you. If..." Your voice was shaky and breathy, and everything in you wanted to pounce him, touch him, bite and scratch and bind him to you, but you resisted, both scared and excited for his reply, the space between your trembling bodies paper thin. "... if you'll have me."

Before your brain could really register what's happening, his smile became predatory, his red irises swallowed almost completely by his dilated pupils, making the blackness appear brighter than his naturally glowing eyes, the shadows around him writhe and grow.

"Oh, I indeed intend to have you, little fox." he cooed, an echo-like echo mixing in with the static of his usual voice. It sounded wrong, demonic, but it lit a flame of pure want within you. It made you frantic in the need to touch him, and the first and only thing your trembling fingers could grasp was his red coat, the instinct you acted on so intense you ripped the fabric from his shoulders and sent buttons flying as your hands sprouted black claws.

For a second, you were blind with panic but his dark, rumbling laugh eased the fear, your head tilting up as he lifted his taloned hands, moving over your head and dragging the tie and the suit jacket along. He held your stare as the two items landed next to you on the floor and his head tilted, a silent, cocky, knowing approval of the first piece of your real, raw self he had gotten to see, and the gesture made you almost break from under his hands as they went back into motion, hungrily peeling the sweat-damp shirt off your back. He was quick yet careful, but when you felt those sharp claws of his scraping over the curve of your back you couldn’t stifle the wanton whimper they drew from you.

He shrugged the remaining pieces of shredded, crimson fabric off his shoulders and pulled on the sleeves of his ripped dress shirt, seemingly not as affected or distraught as you by having lost almost all of its buttons in your careless undressing of him, and it had you lick over your fangs that poked through when your senses became clouded with desire.

His skin faded seamlessly into soft, thin fur right under his clavicles, spreading over his lean chest and arms and towards his flat, toned belly and his hips, where it began to look like it continued on his legs but was covered by the high waisted pants of his immaculate dress outfit. Hypnotized by his alluring form, you barely noticed how quickly he took piece after piece of your clothing off of your sweaty body, the fire in you fanned by the mere feeling of his sharp fingertips dancing over your hot skin, until there was no fabric left to take off. You only realized you were completely nude once he pulled your head up to face him by your chin, his grin glistening as if he was salivating at the view of you - and it drove you mad. His other hand reached around you, finding the base of your bristled tail, long fingers raking through the fur and pulling teasingly on it.

"What a fine specimen of a vixen you are, darling..."

You don't give him time to crack any more jokes as you wrapped yourself around him, rubbing your head against his neck with a growl in a primal need to rub your own scent into him, marking him, wanting him - no - needing him and him only to ease the infernal heat bubbling inside you. The only one worthy, your instincts were telling you, and the thought was taking a hold of you, dragging you down whether you wanted or not. The sheer feeling of his exposed chest brushing against yours was almost overwhelming and your hips instinctively rutted against his, begging and silently pleading for him to fulfill his duty as your chosen mate. A chuckle, resonating deep in his chest, roused from him as he gripped your shoulder with eager force, throwing his weight into you and pushing the two of you the last couple of steps you've still had left onto your bed. Your hands found their way into the soft, maroon fur of his ears, his silky scarlet locks and down his lean, muscular back, clawing and pulling and kneading as the urge to ruin him just as he was ruining you became overwhelmingly powerful and undeniable.

"Aren't we eager now? So desperate to be bred."

A tight tug on your copper fur, which drew an unexpectedly lewd and desperate sound from you, tore your eyes away from the straining, bulging fabric of his pants, where they had previously been staring for a moment too long, your wide blown pupils reflecting his. With your cheeks, chest and shoulders flushed, you saw that a faint pink colored his features, which darkened more the longer he was looking you up and down, the large hand on your side flexing, scratching and kneading every inch it could reach, as if he was still trying to collect himself.

"Y-You don't look too u-uninterested as well." you stutter as his warm lips trailed over your collarbone and down to your nipples, softly sucking one while his other hand twirled the other between his talented fingers, the pinch deliciously painful. When he flicked his tongue out and you yelped at the intense, electrifying and unbelievable feeling he shot into you with that single, simple move, his laughter vibrated against the sensitive flesh between his lips and you swear it's the first time you ever heard him really, genuinely laughing - a deep and powerful and sincere sound. You can feel it throughout your whole body and soul and something within your mind flickers to life - as if his laugh had recharged a part that had been turned off and numb during all of your times in Hell so far, only now to feel truly alive, you and Alastor’s souls intertwining and connecting in a way you had never believed possible before.

"Finally growing into your fangs, I see. Well, if that's the case then..."

He moved swiftly, shifting his weight and pulling you with him, until your places were reversed and you sat on top of him with his hands on your waist pressing you down, down, down - the clothed bulge pressed against the junction of your thighs. A heady moan was ripped from the depth of your throat as your sex ground down against the coarse cloth of his pants, the delicious friction all the more tantalizing for the simple fact that it wasn't nearly enough.

His pupils were huge, black circles with ticking dials in them, nearly completely swallowing the rich crimson, and his normally discreetly hidden antlers sprouted with loud cracks, growing exponentially with each new sound that broke the seal of your lips, each buck of your hips or twitch of your thighs.

"... prove to me how you deserve to receive my seed."

As the words fully hit you, all blood rushes downwards and your body responds on its own. Your mouth latches on his, not sweetly, not gently - wetly, harshly, the clash of tongues and fangs drawing blood, iron and spice spilling in both of your mouths as a new wave of hot arousal wets your center, seeping into his pants.

With both clawed hands planted on his chest you could feel every single tremor, twitch and move of his - the furious pulse of his blood running under your fingertips, the shudder as you breathed his name against the heat of his jugular - you wanted to memorize, tattoo each second into your mind because despite the hazy frenzy you found yourself in it didn't elude you that this might be a once in an afterlife time thing. The thought pained you, and you felt tears prick in the corners of your eyes, which went completely disregarded by both you and the one so voluntarily trapped beneath you.

His claws raked up and down the smooth, soft skin of your sides, tracing every inch and curve and divet and painting them with red streaks, before he finally - FINALLY - moved them to his belt, the clinking sound of his buckle opened music to your ears. The buck of his hips in an attempt to get his slacks to slide lower, his soft grunt as his cock sprang up when he freed it from its clothed confines, it all drove you even madder, his powerful aura and the heaviness of his swirling shadows tipping and bending your senses as you desperately sought to draw out more of these delicious sounds, more of that want that was so obvious now in his eyes and staggered breath.

You lean forward as your tail whipped and shivered as it stood up bristled in arousal, almost losing your balance for a second, bracing yourself on his bared chest as your tongues, teeth and lips crashed together again. Jolts of white-hot electricity shot straight down to your core at the feeling of the damp tip of his cock catching on the wet and slick opening of your folds. A slow drag upwards and your nails clawed over his pectorals and ribs, his throat answering to your touch with a deep, feral growl, almost beast-like as he slid effortlessly up between your lower lips, the combined juices that leaked from his and your loins slicking the hard length. He didn't let you sheath himself into your throbbing heat though, as if to test you, and you whined as you lowered yourself onto the length of his shaft, rutting slowly on it to satiate the hunger that seemed to only grow.

It was merciful torture, a tease you didn't mind for once as the tip of his cock hit your clit every other slide and the vibration of his taunting purrs traveled throughout your spine, leaving behind a tingling burn. It had you toss back your head, the drool hanging from your lips, completely involuntary but curiously not ashamed of it.

"Al-Alastor, please...I need..." You whined, half out of breath and delirious as the sensation of his tip pushing up against your entrance just didn't seem to be enough, the emptiness inside you demanding to be filled. The very corners of his mouth twitched as he stared up at you, your hips rolling helplessly against his, panting and moaning and begging.

"Need what, darling?"

Your brain was foggy with lust, your fingers twitching as you leaned backwards, your claws digging so deep into the soft fur of his chest that they drew blood, and the fire raging inside you wild and untamable. You wanted to speak and plead, to make your tongue cooperate and to say all the right things, to seduce and coax his shaft to fill you the way you knew only his would, but his sultry yet rough voice seemed to have put a stop to whatever reasonable and rational thought that had somehow still remained. Eloquence eluded you in this desperate state, and the only words leaving your gaped mouth were broken and hoarse.

"Mate me. Fill me. Breed me."

"There's a good girl..." he rasped, one clawed hand firmly squeezing the side of your waist, while the other brushed the thin line of tears, sweat and drool hanging from the corner of your agape lips before holding his swollen cock straight for you to impale yourself on it with a moan.

"Take all of me in, little vixen, show me you are worth it. There you go..."

The stretch was blissful, but not as much as the euphoric waves crashing down on you once your greedy core had swallowed up the entirety of his length, your velvety insides clamping down on the girth the way a vise would. His sly coaxing sent another surge of raw, primal and animalistic passion rippling throughout your body, and with strange triumph you felt him experiencing the same kind of exhilaration, making you mindlessly jump forward and down to fully grind yourself down on his member with all the leverage your thighs provided, while simultaneously his strong grip on your waist and him bucking up into you in that sinfully precise way allowed for him to immediately slam right into your most intimate spot, burying his entire shaft into your dripping, welcoming heat.

Falling in sync was shockingly easy, his muscles as responsive as yours and your bodies molding together like two pieces of a perfect puzzle. He thrusted upwards with a force that took your breath away, forcing the air of your lungs to flow out with the repeated bounce and pressure, your ears ringing with the rhythmical slap of skin against skin. Relentlessly, minute after minute passed, and he cruelly ripped you away from tipping over the edge multiple times, your sanity tearing at the seams whenever he slowed you down on his throbbing cock.

In and out, up and down, faster and faster your two bodies worked together and his thick tip and tantalizing ridges brushed all too perfectly against every right spot as his pace quickened once again, making your eyes roll back and the need to cry out his name through desperate sobs over and over and over again became unstoppable, each time a little less distinct and a little more wild than the last.

"You are quite the noisy little one, aren't you? ǤØØĐ. I do love the way you scream my name." he so much as growled as you did exactly that when his fingers gripped on your hips even tighter, his hold more firm as he forced your trembling, exhausted frame up and down, each new hit a bit harder and deeper than the previous one, his entire body tensing as he picked up the speed to a feverish and merciless intensity that had you cry out with pain and pleasure alike.

"β€Ǥ for your release darling, tell me who you want to be filled by once again."

"A-Alas...tor! I'm- fuck... please, let- I w-want only y-ou..."

It was all too much - too hot and too big and too deep, too close and too far away - thick, hot tears joined the sweat and drool that ran down your face. You wished it was over and yet that it would never end, that you could stay frozen like this for the rest of eternity - filled and aching, burning and melting on him, giving and taken from. You were broken, yet pieced together at his hands, and all of a sudden, just like that, he moved you up and his cock felt so much thicker than before this time. With one last violent push he pressed you deep into his lap - You screamed as you felt something swelling inside you, interlocking the both of you as he came right when your own vision turned first white, then black while you mercifully collapsed on top of him, finally being allowed your long-craved release. Hot seed painted your insides and made your toes curl, his cock twitching deep inside you as he gasped through the last ropes of thick and warm release. It lasted and lasted, his hand frantically stroking over your spine and down your whipping tail while he shushed you and purred praise after praise into your folded ears.

It took a few long moments for the fog to clear from your mind before you realized you had buried your nose and mouth into the crook of his neck, teeth sunken in his taupe flesh and fur unconsciously. You dared to turn your head enough to watch his face - his eyes had returned to their usual shades of red, and the engorged branches of his antlers were slowly retracting back to the small, hook shaped ones nestling at the crown of his head. He was still smiling, wide and satisfied and superior almost. You gingerly retracted your fangs from his neck, but when you attempted to unmount him – rationality, and with it shame, creeping back into your consciousness - Alastor's arms locked firmly around your bare frame, rendering you unable to move.

"So eager to get rid of me, already?" he cooed, a chuckle rising from his chest. "I wouldn't advise to move yet, my little vixen - Not while we're knotted."

"We're... knotted...?!"

He nods, and you follow his intense stare down to where you and him were still connected. Sure enough, you couldn't make out his shaft itself but a noticeable bump stretching the flushed lips of your sex impossibly wide, the sight causing you to gasp and tear your eyes away in shameful realization. A tidal wave of blood flushed your cheeks - partly due to arousal, but mostly because of embarrassment and confusion, and you willed yourself to stay calm and not to freak out. When you looked back to him you found him grinning, his expression the picture of amusement but there was something tender in the glimmering ruby eyes that looked up to you. It felt strange that even though you were sitting on top of Alastor, you still felt small and submissive to him, how much dominance and assertiveness he could hold even in a position like this.

"How long...?" you managed to ask, avoiding to look at him by turning your head aside, staring at the mess of ripped and torn cloths on the carpet.

"How long?" he echoes, but there's a pause until he hums a dark and pleased sound, "Well, darling, your guess is as good as mine. Despite what you may think, I've never knotted with anyone before."

You thought your heart would jump from your chest and flutter through the room when his hand softly petted the base of your fluffy tail before his knuckles ever so lightly traced the line of your back. His other arm still held you tightly, and his fingertips danced over the heated skin of your side, the soft caresses a sharp contrast to the way he'd handled you only a few minutes prior. You were overwhelmed by the sheer gentleness and intimacy, the vulnerability it made you feel, and you felt a lump forming in your throat.

"Relax, my little vixen. You've been so good for me, so now let me service you while we wait."

Too stunned and overstimulated to respond you feel his mouth licking and kissing along the various bruises and cuts scattered over your chest and torso, his hands soothingly stroked every inch of your sweat-damp body, tracing the lines of the scratches and welts he had left on your hips and waist while he still managed to somehow hold you still. Every touch and kiss had your tail bristle and quiver, a whimper leaving your throat, but he didn't stop until his lips were pressed to the pulse on your neck, the steady and heavy heartbeat drumming against his nose and chin.

"You know, I knew you'd come to your senses and give in to my advances eventually, darling. Although I didn't think it'd take you to get into a heat to finally admit it."

"Your wh-..."

He latched onto your breast, sucking a little too harshly on the sensitive nipple as if that’d answer your unfinished question, and the yelp that tore from your throat turned into a moan when his teeth raked over the nub before his tongue flicked out, soothing the pain he had caused while your head swirled in confusion.

Advances?

What did he mean, advances?

All he had done since you two met had been taunting and teasing and chasing and ridiculing you... right? Another sharp bite on your sore bud had you gasp, partly by pain but also by epiphany.

Like a boy on the playground, pulling the pigtails of the girl he likes, Alastor had tormented you, chased you, tripped and caught you, waiting for you to get the hint - No hard feelings, hm?

All this time, every day and any second, in his own weird, twisted way, he had been showing a perverted version of affection and pursued you.

You weren't sure how to react, what to feel - there was too much to wrap your head around and no way in hell you'd be able to sort through it all right now, with his cock still locked inside you and his lips wrapped around your breast, still teasing, still taunting. Although now, with the context you were given, you welcomed it, wanted it even. The more you thought about it the more it all fell into place, and his actions towards you suddenly felt less and less like harassment and more like a tremendously badly executed attempt at wooing. But it was oh-so in character for him, the enigma that was the Radio Demon, and you would've laughed if his ministrations on your chest and his gently swaying hips wouldn't have coaxed your body slowly but surely steer into yet another, but softer - almost lazy - orgasm.

"You are... o-oh god... the biggest p-pain in the ass, Alastor…"

He laughed, another genuine and carefree one, the vibration of his voice tickling your flesh as you came again with a pitiful moan and he let go of the rosy, pert nipple to lift his head, the soft and tender smile and the glint of his sharp teeth a sight you knew you'd never be able to forget.

"That's what they all say, dear."

Tag, you're it! - @diffidentphantom @sirens-and-moonflowers @tayraedoll @catticora @valerie-is-in-the-cupboard as well as my fab four (whose fics carried me through my unavioidable vertigo pause)

LOVE YOU @hazelfoureyes @minkdelovely @sugoi-writes and @synamartia <3

[mysteryshoptls]

Leona Kingscholar Shared Lines

Tutorial: Hey, time to go. Follow me.

Level Up 1: Feels nice gettin' tributes.

Level Up 2: This ain't bad... But it's not nearly enough.

Level Up 3: Gaining more power never hurts.

Level Max: Hah, I feel as though everything is now in my grasp. If you're going to keep working hard for me like this, I guess I can throw you a bone.

Vignette Level Up: Never thought I'd be up to hangin' with a herbivore... But this is getting pretty interesting. As long as you don't cause me any issues, I'll keep lookin' after you.

Spell Level Up: You're probably the only one who actually would want to practice magic with me. Most people'll just tuck their tails and run away.

Friendship Level Up: I don’t like being constantly disturbed. So in that sense, this place is perfect and quiet.

Friendship Level Max: I don’t mind coming by this guest room once in a while. Make sure you have a place to nap and some food ready for me.

Uncapped: I can do it so long as I put my mind to it, ain't it obvious? I just don't want to.

Groovification: You want to see what I can really do? Heheh... A herbivore like you wouldn't nearly be ready to handle that.

Lesson Select 1: Hey you, sit in front of me. I'm gonna sleep behind you.

Lesson Select 2: It ain't that hard of a decision, is it? I'm tired of waitin' around.

Lesson Select 3: Time for a peaceful study time with everyone all buddy-buddy, huh. No thanks.

Lesson Start: Ugh, this sucks.

Lesson Finish: Yaaawn. That was a boring class, I already knew all that.

Battle Start: I can fight with more than just my fists and fangs.

Battle Won: Did you really think you could win against me?

GIFT CALENDAR 2023: “How will you be spending the day?” No plans worth mentioning. What, not what you were expecting? Well, too bad. The campus is completely covered in snow, so the best thing for me to do is just to get back to my dorm room and relax while solving some chess problems.

Birthday Story 1: My birthday isn’t anything special. It’s just the day I was born. …Well if you’re really saying you want to celebrate it, I won’t forcibly stop you. Presents are always welcome.

Birthday Story 2: What’d you want? …Ah, you came to celebrate my birthday. Then, I guess I’ll have you grill some meat for me, or something. You’ll have to make it exactly the way I want it. You said you wanted to celebrate me, right? I’ll let you keep trying until you get it down pat. I look forward to see how much I get to eat.

Birthday Story 3: So, you came to wish me a happy birthday, huh? Well, ain’t that admirable of you. So, what did you bring me, then? At the very least, you are presenting a gift to royalty. As such, I’m sure you’ve prepared a very fine gift. …Hey, don’t freeze up on me. Sheesh, jokes just fly over your head, huh. I’ll take it off your hands, so show me what you got behind your back, already.

Birthday Story 4: …Ugh. As I’m sure you can tell, I’m in the middle of a nap. If you need something from me, ask me later. If you just wanted to celebrate my birthday, a card woulda been plenty… But, fine. Here, hand it over. [Yuu startles] Whaddya mean, hand what over? …Obviously, I’m talking about my gift. I’m expecting it to be something good to make up for the rude awakening.

Requested by Anonymous.

[withlove-xixi]

— SANJI NSFW THOUGHTS: sanji x reader

ᥫ cw: nsfw, pet names, praise, also cum, roleplay ★ my favorite white guy ... sanji my darling boyfriend ... i miss him i need to start watching one piece again — MINORS DNI! —

first things first, i'm putting my foot down and saying sanji is simply too service top for me to see as a power bottom. im sorry, as much as i know he would be wrapped around your finger, he's not completely powerless. sure if you told him to bottom, he'd be bent over and spread open before you've even finished asking.

that being said, his submissiveness is done completely out of love. he's always treating you like you're the most precious thing in the world, because to him, you're nothing less.

hes definitely not that kinky i'd say, hes just willing to try things you'd like. sure, there are some things that would turn him on (doesn't everything lol?) but i think there would be very few of what hes actually into and definitely some he'd absolutely refuse to do.

ive seen other people say it, but idt he'd be big on like spanking or other kinds of pain play, simply because the idea of hurting you (consensual or accidental) will actually drive him insane and he'd explode. he's a bit wary of things like bondage too because what if you get hurt? your safety is always his priority, he'd do anything to ensure it.

idt he's keen too on the idea of threesomes, voyeurism, etc because hes a bit .. possessive of you. at least, maybe he would allow sharing you if he had the reins. like if he was able to dictate how things would happen and stuff, because otherwise he wouldn't dare even entertain the idea. i think sanji finds sex to be intimate more than anything, it's a way for him to show his love to you, so why must he share that? that isnt to say he hasnt thought about having multiple partners during sex, the idea's passed through his mind once or twice before and it's gotten him flustered, but it's hardly anything he'd really want to do (again, unless he had control of things or if you really begged him for it)

oh and he is so good with praise. he's always showering you with complements even outside of sex. it's always "good job, darling" or "i've got you, sweetheart" and aughhh!! he's just sweet like that. he's always planting kisses on your thighs or chest, on the back of your hand on against you palm. PLUS PETNAMES! he loves calling you all sorts of things, comparing you to summer days or sweet flowers. it was like he was always finding new ways to tell you he loved you.

i think sanji likes looking at you too. sometimes he could be a bit too mesmerized by you, staring intently, hungrily with those pretty blue eyes. he's taking in every detail of your face and body, every bead of sweat on your skin, the shine of slick on your thighs, the rise and fal of your chest. sometimes he gets too busy staring he stays completely frozen lmao.

and ... i think he likes watching you covered in his cum. like he'd cum as deep as he can inside you snd spread you apart just a bit to watch it ooze out, or he'd cum on your belly and smear it over your skin eith his fingers, or he'd cum all over your face and watch it drip off your chin (oh he is definitely getting a nose bleed from all that)

his favorite thing though is when you dress up for him. whether is frilly revealing tops or lacy lingere, he's getting hard as soon as he sees you. again, idt he's got too many kinks, he's just willing to try things out with you, but if there was anything he liked the most it might be roleplay. there's something about seeing you in different outfits and seeing you play the role of a nurse or a doctor sends his blood rushing to his dick lol.

[cosmerelists]

Superpowers That Other Cosmere Fans Seem To Have (That I Do Not)

Inspired by this post, which is also #1 below. :D Basically, this is a post about amazing powers that I've noticed OTHER Cosmere fans seem to have, which I definitely & absolutely do not possess.

1. A Powerful Lack of Secondhand Embarrassment

I start with @lerelene's superpower, which is that they don't get secondhand embarrassment from the "And for MY boon" scene. That is VERY powerful indeed. I can barely reread that scene, and my brain is hiding behind a very large fan the whole time.

2. Recognizing Worldhoppers

I feel like some fans are reading along, when suddenly a character who is "kind of short, really" or who uses some slightly odd idiom is mentioned, and they say, "Ah HA! I see you, Worldhopper!" That could not be me. Unless the Worldhopper is, like, a major character in another book or is explicitly named, I've never recognized one in my life.

3. Understanding the Physics of Investiture

I'm not even sure physics is the right term? But, like, I know that there are underlying principles governing investiture and how it manifests cosmere-wide and I, uh, do not understand much of anything about that. I'm picking up on the fact that investiture turns black and oily (?) when it's wonky, but that's all I got.

4. Asking Sanderson Amazing Questions at Cons

Closely related is the superpower that some fans seem to have of coming up with really wild questions about the inner workings of investiture: like what happens if Nightblood drinks the Dor or how Hemalurgy can steal a Bond or....stuff. Interesting stuff that makes Sanderson hand out a RAFO card or just give a delightedly nerdy answer. I dream sometimes of asking one of those questions but frankly, I wouldn't even know where to begin.

5. Reading Everything Sanderson

I consider myself a pretty serious Sanderson fan, but I haven't even finished the Cosmere! Just missing White Sand, which I feel like isn't super uncommon, but still. There are people who've read all of the Cosmere AND the non-Cosmere books and probably Wheel of Time too. I think that is incredibly impressive. I will probably never do it all.

6. Keeping up with the WOBs

I'm actually not sure if this is a superpower that few have or just something that everyone else is doing that I don't, but....I can't keep up-to-date with all of the Words of Brandon. I don't watch the videos really and I've never been to a con. Every now and then people say things on the internet about, like, a Worldhopper Ball or MLM Renarin Day or something and I gradually pick stuff up. But I am definitely not on top of any of that.

7. Keeping the Timeline Straight

People who can even keep the in-book timelines straight impress me, but even more impressive are people who can keep the Cosmere-wide timeline straight. If you gave me two Cosmere series and asked me which is earlier chronologically, I'd probably shout "OH MY GOD IT'S HOID" and run for it.

So...what's YOUR Cosmere Superpower?

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Double Date (part 6.5)

Better late then never here's the mentioned double date between Harley and Ivey, and Hyena and Hood. It's unedited so please point out any errors you find.

Previous | Masterpost | Next

They really should have expected this when Harley had mentioned Jason and Danny joining her and Pam for a double date. Of course Harley would forget to actually plan, and would just show up, dressed to the nines with Pam on her arm yelling about an event at Penguin's club.

"Come on! we're going to be late for karaoke!" Harley yelled before she processed that Hood had ducked to hide his face and Hyena had a gun trained on them, his mouth stretched too wide in a snarl. "Oh, oops," She said sheepishly as Pam sighed and shook her head.

"Harley, did you forget to tell them we were coming?" Pam questioned with fond exasperation.

"No she did not," Jason said, returning with his helmet on and offering Danny his muzzle. Danny shrugged and took it though he didn't put it on right away. "She mentioned a double date when she brought Danny the flowers but we hadn't heard anything since."

"Oh shoot I'm sorry guys! I got so excited I guess I made the plan in my head! I could have sworn I'd asked," Harley apologized, pouting at the two of them. "Can we still go out though? I really want to do the Karaoke night, I was really looking forward to going with both of you."

Jason glanced at Danny, who glanced back at him, first uncertainly, then when Jason shrugged indicating he didn't mind, with puppydog eyes. Danny wanted to go. Jason sighed. "Fine, get out and give us 20 minutes to get ready and then we can go."

Harley cheered and Danny grinned, scrambling off to their bedroom to grab their clothes. Danny decided on a pair of leather pants and a shirt just sheer enough that his scars weren't obvious, and a more casual cloth facemask with a pattern of bared fangs. It covered his mouth and nose but he could slip a straw under it to have a drink, and it wouldn't muffle his voice too much when they sang.

Jason chose black pants, a red shirt, a brown leather jacket with plenty of concealed weapons, and a wide domino mask. He also took a minute to colour the white streak in his hair black so he'd be less distinctive, insisting Danny did the same, once he'd finished his eyeliner. Danny groaned about it but did it anyway.

"Okay, we're ready to go?" Jason asked, checking Danny out. He sure as hell looked ready for a night out on the town, he looked so fucking good with eyeliner, and those tight black black leather pants... No, Jason couldn't focus on that!

Danny, who smiled with his eyes and nodded eagerly, grabbing Jason's hand and dragging him towards the door. "We're ready to go!" He cheered as soon as he spotted Harley, who immediately cheered as well and lunged forward to hug Danny tightly as he laughed.

"Good now let's go! We're already late!" Harley babbled, dragging Danny towards the door as Pam and Jason followed at a more languid pace.

"And who's fault is that Harls?" Pam chided gently. "You need to learn how to communicate plans like this with people."

"I know, but I really thought I had," Harley said with a pout as she continued to drag Hyena out of the building and into a car they all piled into, Jason insisted on driving Eben though it wasn't his car because he couldn't imagine Harley was a good driver. Pam laughed and said she wasn't while Harley pouted, Jason drove.

They arrived at the iceberg lounge with no trouble. IDs weren't needed to enter, just being recognized as one of Gotham's rogues and since right now Hood and Hyena were practically royalty they were welcomed with open arms. Penguin even got them a last minute table and comped their first bottle, he knew it would pay to stay on the good side of Gotham's new power couple after all. Harley chugged her first glass of bubbly and took off to put her name down for the song she wanted.

"She's not a half bad singer," Pam assured them as she sipped her own glass of champagne more slowly. "Are either of you going to sing?"

Jason glanced over at Danny, who seemed to be hesitating, looking uncertain. Jason shifted closer and wrapped an arm around his boyfriend's waist. "Do it if you want to, I'll go up with you," he encouraged and Danny relaxed a bit.

Danny turned a little to whisper into Jason's ear. "I don't really sing, I'm good at it but since I'm a banshee my voice can be powerful. I've always been worried that singing will have, I don't know, do something?" He said like a question.

"Has it ever done anything?" Jason asked and Danny hesitated before shaking his head.

"No, not unless I scream," Danny admitted reluctantly.

"Alright, then we'll give it a try," Jason assured, kissing the side of Danny’s head before taking a sip of his drink.

Danny nodded and grabbed a straw, slipping it into the drink so he could sip it. Pam topped up their drinks when they were half empty.

"So what song do you think you want to do? Harley'll probably drag me up to do a duet. I always say I won't but she gets me with those puppy-dog eyes," she chuckled fondly, clearly not actually upset about that.

"Oh I know the feeling," Jason agreed, shaking his head.

"I have excellent puppydog eyes," Danny chirped, snuggling closer. Jason rolled his eyes behind his mask.

"I bet he does," Pam laughed softly, amused by the two of them.

"What song should we do? Do you think they have Come With Me Now? We've sung that one together before? Or Vicious, No no! We should do Zombie Love!" Danny suggested sounding excited, though that might just be two glasses of champagne in a body unused to managing alcohol. As long as Danny’s ghostly abilities didn't clear toxins as quickly as physical injuries.

"They can find whatever you want," Pam promised with a snicker. "Pangoo wants to be on both your good sides really bad."

Jason snorted, leaning back against the booth with a crooked and cocky grin. "He knows what my rules are, everyone does, follow them and we'll be fine," he said with a careless little wave.

"Oh don't tell him that!" Harley said, popping out of nowhere and making Jason and Danny jump. "It's so fun watching him scramble," she snickered, flopping down next to Pam, wrapping her arms around Pam's neck. "Come sing with meee," she pleaded as Pam poured her another drink.

"Harley you promised you wouldn't make me this time," Pam chided her without any heat. She didn't actually mind it seemed.

"We'll go first and you can talk her into it," Danny cackled, grabbing Jason's hand and dragging him up and over to the sign-in desk.

They signed up to do Zombie Love because they both thought it was funny. It wasn’t a traditional duet or anything but they could sing it together, that seemed to make Danny feel better too. His voice was beautiful, and he kept his distance from the mic so it wouldn't be too loud because he had very powerful lungs. He seemed more interested in practically grinding on Jason anyway, who was just trying very hard not to blush and potentially taint his fearsome reputation by blushing at his boyfriend's antics.

Harley was whooping and wolf whistling at them excitedly before the song ended and Danny dragged Jason back off the stage laughing breathlessly. He seemed thrilled as he pressed himself against Jason purring under the cover of the music and nuzzling against his neck.

"Hyena we're in public," Jason half joked with his hands gripping Danny's hips too tightly.

"No one's going to say anything, they're scared of us," Danny murmured into Jason's ear making him shiver.

"Hey lovebirds! We supported you while you sang!" Harley accused them, bouncing over to practically pry the two of them apart.

Danny let go while laughing, smiling at Harley with his eyes. "So did you two decide what you're going to sing?" He questioned, raising his eyebrows.

"Ya! We're going to do Promiscuous Girl," Harley yipped, Ivy just smiling at her indulgently.

"Then of course we'll cheer you on! But then we're going to dance!" Danny insisted with a wicked glint in his eye that nearly had Jason swooning. Oh he was absolutely going to be pent up and suffering by the end of the night. They should do things like this more often.

Harley and Ivy's duet was pretty good, Pam kept Harley from going too off key and they were clearly having fun. Jason decided to be more stoic about his support, nodding his head to the beat and letting Danny howl and whistle for the both of them. They both clapped when they finished and Harley bounced off the stage again with Pam close in tow.

Danny grabbed Jason and dragged him to the dance floor, and Jason wondered how he could be so graceful and confident in a fight and so fucking lost on the dance floor. He was too aware of his body, and the eyes that were on him and didn't fully know how to behave. Thankfully Danny made sure that didn't last long as he dragged Jason into dancing with him. Jason was content to be essentially a prop and watch as Danny moved with more sensual grace than he had any right to be, flowing with the music in a way that was almost hypnotic.

Jason only became aware that other people thought so too when Harley cut in demanding to dance with Danny as well! Jason chuckled and relinquished Danny to her, going to sit back at their table with Pam. Only then did he notice all the people staring at Danny, the little ring of watchers they'd acquired.

"Is he part siren or something?" Ivy teased him as Jason drank a glass of.. something probably too quickly.

"Something like that," Jason agreed vaguely. "Why are the Gotham City Sirens recruiting?"

"No, but the Birds of Prey might be," Ivy said, smirking at him.

"Hey, no planning to steal my boyfriend," Hood joked, his eyes drawn back to Danny and Harley dancing together. It was... something, they were both completely unaware of the eyes on them, confident and at home in their bodies and sexuality. It was quite the show, and Jason was just glad he was the one Danny would be coming home with.

"Can we borrow him at least?" She asked playfully.

"Weelll I suppose if he agrees to it I can't be too mad," Jason relented, hesitation only for show. They would be good friends to Hyena he was sure.

"Good, now let's just enjoy the night, and how fucking sexy our partners are." Pam said, raising her glass to Jason in a toast, which he returned, clinking his glass against hers.

[howtofightwrite]

Since adrenaline makes it easier to ignore pain, I’m wondering how severe an injury can be before adrenaline isn’t enough to allow a person to keep fighting

Fatal.

The scary thing about adrenaline is that you can suffer a mortal wound and not realize it until you drop dead. If you've ever seen the, “humans are space orcs,” meme, adrenaline is a big part of that. If you don't finish someone off, they are still a potential threat until they are clinically dead.

While it may seem slightly comical, the image of someone literally checking themselves for holes after being shot at is a real practice with genuine purpose. If they had an adrenaline rush, they might not be able to tell that they've been hit, and will need to physically examine themselves to ensure they're not bleeding to death without realizing it. (And, yes, that can absolutely happen.)

As a general rule, anything that will immediately kill someone, such as decapitation or catastrophic head trauma, will stop someone through an adrenaline rush. Destruction of the skeletal structure, (which is to say, destroying joints), might not completely stop them, but it's an injury they won't be able to power through (even if they aren't immediately aware of it.)

It's a little worse than I'm making it sound, too, because you can suffer non-fatal injuries during an adrenaline rush, and then aggravate the wound to the point that it becomes life threatening (or life-altering.) An adrenaline rush can, potentially, persist for over an hour.

In most cases, the adrenaline rush will drop off within a few minutes of the threat passing, though the state of threat is assessed by your brain, so your psychological state heavily affects that. Meaning, if you feel threatened, even if the actual danger has passed, the rush could continue (though it will usually drop off after, roughly, an hour.)

The “good” news is that an adrenaline rush will not prevent you from bleeding to death. So, if someone has been shot multiple times and is bleeding out, they'll still lose consciousness. You just need to make sure that they're actually incapacitated. Not that it matters, but as a minor up-side, adrenaline is delivered via the circulatory system, meaning if you start seriously bleeding, that's your adrenaline rush going with it, so the rush is likely to drop off prematurely in the event of fatal blood loss.

I'm not completely sure what the subjective experience is there. Catastrophic blood loss during an adrenaline rush is not something I have personal experience with, and my experiences with bleeding while dealing with an adrenaline rush is more just that bleeding is an extremely annoying inconvenience, when you don't need to consider what's happening. (To be clear, that's not just a glib dismissal, being aware of bleed was actually annoying. It might sound hilarious to be pissed off at your own blood leaking down the side of your face, but that was my experience. Also, for the record, I did not feel the gash that I was bleeding from, and angrily rubbed it a few times before realizing I'd been injured.)

The short answer to your question, “how much severely do you need to injure someone through an adrenaline rush?” You need to kill them.

That said, killing them is absolutely not your only option. Less than lethal devices, such as tasers or chemical sprays, can absolutely incapacitate someone under an adrenaline rush, without severely harming them. Similarly, restraints, and other submission techniques can be used to hold them down. In the case of restraints and submission holds, there is a danger of the individual injuring themselves, while they try to work their way out of the hold, but that risk is still vastly preferable to killing them on the spot.

Adrenaline is a very potent survival tool, in your physiology, and if you try to simply overpower that tool through direct force, it will lead to catastrophic consequences. However, alternative methods (in particular, shorting out someone's nervous system with a direct electrical charge, or simply interfering with the mechanical structure of their joints, can be just as effective at stopping them with far less dire consequences.

-Starke

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[chososwifey24-7]

𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕟𝕖𝕨

Bf!Gojo x fem!reader

Cw: none, just gojo being gojo.

It was late afternoon, and you were preparing a meal for yourself and your boyfriend. Gojo.

How did you land the biggest hot shot and strongest sorcerer ever? By blatantly ignoring him.

At first, he seemed annoying. Another egotistical maniac that couldn't keep himself in his own personal bubble. Well, all of that was correct, but somehow it seemed different.

He seemed less egotistical around you. Less, pushy. He always tried to reassure you with the typical, "I'm the strongest, so don't worry."

Sighing, you finished up the soba and grabbed the sweet treat for gojo from the fridge. Cream kikufuku.

You had heard he'd been sent on a rather long mission as of recently, and you didn't want him to feel too down. He may be a jujutsu sorcerer, but he was human.

The best, to say the least.

When you heard the lock being clicked out of place, you flipped around to look at gojo. What you didn't expect to see was a little boy. He seemed distant, annoyed, and even tired.

"Hey sweetheart, welcome home. Who's this? I didn't think you were bringing... company."

You said as Gojo walked over, planting a kiss on your cheek and chuckling lightly. The little boy grimaced and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Hey love, I wasn't necessarily expecting it either, but meet megumi! I'm taking him so the zenin clan doesnt."

You gave a small frown. The zenin. The pesky clan that you never ever heard good things about. Obsessed with power and strength, but never family.

You walked over to megumi and gave him a soft smile holding out your hand. You wouldn't treat him like he was stupid, he was a child, but he didn't seem stupid at all.

"I'm y/n. Gojo's significant other, it's a pleasure to meet you!"

He scoffed and turned away.

"Not interested, okay? Gojo brought me here just saying this is where I'd stay, nothing more, nothing less."

You turned back to gojo and gave him a look of uncertainty. How were you supposed to talk to this kid? He didn't even know you were gonna be here! Gojo... always leaving the important details out.

You sigh and shake your head before returning to your soft gaze and looking back at megumi.

"Well, we have some extra soba if you're hungry, I'll get the spare bedroom set up. Gojo, you eat up too-"

You turned to look at your not so innocent boyfriend chowing down on the kikifuku you had gotten for his desert.

"Hey! Eat some actual food first and save one for megumi!"

Scolding him, you walk over and lightly tap his hand away from the kikufuku, the ones he hadn't eaten. You pulled one out for megumi and walked back over to him.

Holding the delicacy out, you gave megumi a soft smile.

"Welcome to the family. I'm excited to have you sticking around. If you ever need anything, don't be afraid to ask."

He eyed the desert and then you before gingerly taking it from your hands and looking down taking a bite.

"Thank you."

He muttered and then walked over to the counter, staring down at the bowl of soba and beginning to eat.

You smiled and went back to the spare bedroom, gojo following close behind. Grabbing some sheets and a duvet you enter the room. The pillows already had cases.

"Hey, sorry for not letting you know about the new one. He just... he doesn't have a family, he needed somebody and I thought we could give him, something new."

You smile at Gojos' explanation. He's acting as if you're mad. You aren't. It was just unexpected. You let out a soft giggle and turn around facing gojo with a kind and loving smile.

"I don't mind Gojo. He needed somebody. That's the most important thing. I love you, and I trust you. So I know that I can love this decision that you made and trust it."

Gojo simply smiled and began to pepper your face in kisses. You squealed and tried to gently push him away so you could finish getting the duvet on.

That's when you heard someone clear their throat. Megumi.

"Um, can I have some more of that soba? It was really good."

He said almost quietly. You gave him a smile and walked over gently ruffling his hair.

"Of course you can. This is your home, too now. You don't have to ask, you can have more."

He pushed your hand away and grimaced a little, running his own hands through his hair now.

"Yeah, megumi, this is our home. All three of ours, so don't you worry."

Gojo had to chime in with a chuckle of his own. And as Gojo came running past you down the hall with a squirming megumi chanting,

"Our home, our home, our home!"

You couldn't help but laugh. Your sweet but annoying boyfriend had something new to him. You couldn't quite pinpoint it yet, but you had this little boy to thank. Megumi.

A new life, a new story, a lively home. A home.

Yes, that's what it was now. A home.

[thevoidstaredback]

"Don't you find it suspicious?" Barry asks Wally.

"Hm?"

"The attendees. It's such a weird hodgepodge of people."

"Really? Everyone here is well known in their fields of work."

Barry doesn't seem to believe him. Rude.

"It's true!" he insists, "Everyone here has at least two articles written about them."

"And how would you know that?" Bart asks.

"Because I actually read the news?" Wally says. That, and Dick let him in on the whole plan that's been cooked up. He's upset that he wasn't brought in earlier, but he's more than excited to watch the security footage from 'Phase One'.

Iris gasps mockingly. "You do? I don't believe it!"

Wally sniffs. "Believe it or not, Iris, I don't live under a rock."

"Could've fooled me!" Dick snorts from behind him.

Whirling around, Wally grins at his best friend. "Dick!"

"Hey, loser." He directs his attention to the other three at the table, "Mister and Misses Allen, it's nice to meet you. I'm Richard Grayson, but everyone calls me 'Dick'."

Bart snickers. "Unfortunate."

Dick grins and ruffles his hair. "What's your name, little man?"

"'m Bart Allen!"

"Nice to meet ya, Bart." Crouching down, Dick stage whispers, "Can I let you in on a secret?"

Bart nods.

"If you go back out the doors, turn left and there's another room there."

Bart playfully glares at him. "Try'n to get me to a secondary location?"

Dick shakes his head. "Well, if you want to hang out here with the boring adults..."

"Bye, Barry, Iris!" he calls, running - though it's closer to a slow jog for a non-powered person - off, leaving the room.

"You guys set up another room?" Wally asks.

Dick shrugs. "I know, when I was a kid, that I would've done anything to get out of this stuffy atmosphere."

"That's fair."

"Sorry to interrupt," Iris says, "But where did you two meet?"

The duo share a look. It's Dick who says, "I met him when he was visiting Bludhaven a while back."

Wally nods. "Yeah, he's with the BHPD; He got me outta some trouble while I was there."

"Trouble?" Barry almost laughs, "What happened?"

Wally blushes, clearly embarrassed. "Let's, um, not get into this right now."

Iris smirks. "Now, Wally, what do you have to be so shy about?"

This was not a story Wally wanted out. Fortunately, Dick was on his side. For now, at least.

"As much as I'd love to tell you how much cocaine got popped over his head," -he ignores Wally's indignant shout and punch to his shoulder- "I've got a few other people to meet. It was nice meeting you both. Please, I hope you enjoy."

***

There's a group surrounding Bruce, as is normal for galas, though it isn't intentional this time. Most of them are the One Percenter's that were invited to shift suspicions, but there are a few heroes and their families with him. Lois and Clark Kent being the most notable, though Oliver and Diana are here, too.

He's got eyes on his kids, too, making sure they're all okay. Like before, they all have comms in, but they're all umutted unless something happens. The noise, otherwise, would've been too much and obvious to the Supers.

Dick's just finished talking with the Allens, excusing himself and heading over to Donna Troy and Jackson Hyde are talking. Wally looks to be trying to follow after him.

Jason's off talking to Roy and Lian, though Dinah has her eye on them while Oliver's distracted.

Damian and Jon Kent are already walking out of the room. Because dinner's been served and eaten, he doesn't call his son back.

Tim and Duke have been gone for the past few minutes. They'd both left the ballroom as soon as they could, probably off to the room they'd set up away from the boring monotony of the gala. Most of the teen heroes were gone, too.

Cass and Steph are oth talking to the three reporters, though the two from social media seem more interested in online gossip than the Daily Profit reporter.

"Mister Wayne!" Lois greets, pulling his attention back to the group around him, "Are the rumors about you and Batman true?" There's a gleam in her eyes as she speaks. She knows something. She probably knew his secret the second she saw the wax seal. Good. More things to hold over Clark's head.

Bruce smiles at her. "What rumors?"

"That you hate each other." she says, "You've said, on record, that you think Batman does good for this city just in the wrong way; and there's rumors that he's said that you do good work, too, but he just doesn't like you."

He fakes hurt so obviously that everyone can tell he's either joking or he doesn't care, "Batman doesn't like me?" Shocking information, that is. Imagine that.

"That's only speculation, Mister Wayne."

"Please, Mister Wayne was my father, just as Misses Wayne was my mother. Please, call me 'Bruce'."

"Alright, Bruce. Would you mind explaining your thoughts on Batman? He's Gotham's hero, so why don't you like him."

"What is this, an interview?" he jokes. It falls flat, though the people around him chuckle, as social rules demand. "Miss Lane,"

"Please, it's 'Lois'."

"Lois, then. You're here as a guest, so why do you insist on working?"

She smiles sheepishly, though she doesn't back down. "I'm a reporter through and through, Burce, I can't help it."

He chuckles, "Well, then I guess I can help you put these rumors to rest." He pauses for a moment, feigning putting his thoughts together. "While I do think that Batman is doing good for Gotham, I can also see the flaws in his design. After all, he's only one man."

"Oh?" one of the others in the crowd around him asks, "Have you met him?"

"Only once; he saved me when I had been kidnapped a few years ago," the Gothamites in the crowd nod knowingly, though Luther - who's sneering not-so-subtly - shakes his head, "just after Robin appeared, I believe. And I think that's the thing I hate about him the most."

"Hate?" Oliver, who's near the back of the group, wonders. Diana must recognise his voice because she looks over at him and doesn't look away. Point Bruce.

"He never should've brought a child into his line of work. I can never forgive him for that." Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Dick and Jason both share a look. He's speaking loudly, so he isn't surprised they hear. He means it, though. "Back to what I was saying, though! Batman does good work, but there are other solutions he's either overlooking or choosing to ignore."

"Such as..?" Lois prods.

Such as murder. That goes against his Code, but he's considered it. Though he walks a gray line, Kal is there as his moral compass. It wouldn't do to upset his best friend like that. Torture is also a solution, but that's also off the table, though Diana is the reason for that.

"Now, now, Miss Lois, I think it' time we leave this discussion for now. It's been a while since I was last in Metropolis; how's your own city's hero doing?"

Subtle, Bruce.

Lois looks deeply into his eyes, and whatever pieces she'd been missing click into place. She laughs, "He's doing well, though I haven't been reporting on him lately. That's all Clark."

"Have you met Superman?" Miss. Crowne asks, pulling the conversation along.

Clark shakes his head. "Only once, but not nearly long enough to get a comment." Luther looks slightly upset. Loser. "Though I'd love to talk to him some more. Have you ever met Batman?"

The answer is no. Batman makes a point to avoid civilians who aren't victims or Commissioner Gordon. However, Miss. Crowne says, yes, she has met Batman, though he didn't stay long for a talk. She seems to be proud of [not] meeting Gotham's resident cryptid, though her wording entices Oliver to speak up.

"Cryptid?" Oliver asks.

Miss. Crowne nods enthusiastically. "Yes! No one knows where he came from or where he goes at the end of each night. One day, he just showed up, and he's been here ever since."

She continues to spin a fantastical tale about what Gothamites think about Batman and his Birds. Bruce smirks behind his drink. This reveal is going to be really funny.

***

Down the left hallway from the ballroom, by the bathroom, is the sitting room that was chosen as the 'kid's room'. As soon as dinner had ended and the mingling had started, the Wayne children had spread the information about the second room to all of the heroes that had kids with them. Arguably, this room was much more fun than the ballroom.

Tim and Duke had been the first two to leave the ballroom, mostly so that there was actual security in the sitting room. Duke didn't have a team affiliated with the Justice League, so he mostly floated between the sitting room and the ballroom, like Cass and Steph, but Tim was almost a permanent fixture in the sitting room.

The entire team knows who Kon and Bart are, so thy stuck pretty close to each other as the only familiar faces in the party aside from their families. They left the ballroom soon after Tim and Duke did.

Cassie came in a few minutes later, Andy Curry toddling after her, though it didn't seem like she'd noticed.

Tim meet Cassie at the snack table. "Cute kid," he said, looking over her shoulder, "She related to you?"

Cassie didn't jump, though it was a close thing. She turned to Tim before looking behind her. "Nope."

Humming, Tim crouched down to pick up the toddler. Andrina 'Andy' Curry. Arthur and Mera will be missing her soon. "My name's Tim Drake," he says to both Andy and Cassie, though he coos, "What's your name, hun?"

Andy giggles as e boops her nose before picking her up and standing. "A-dy!"

"'Andy'?" he repeats, "Where're your parents, Andy?"

She points to the door. "Dat way!"

"That way?" Cassie says, also pointing to the door, "Why'd you leave them?"

Andy stuck her tongue out. "Bo'ing!"

Tim stifles a laugh. "Can you tell me your last name, sweety?"

"Cuwy!"

"Curry?" Cassie guesses.

"Yeah!" Andy nods happily.

Tim nods. "Let's get you back to your momma, okay, Andy?"

"Boo!" she shouts, gripping his shirt tighter. Cassie laughs.

Shooting his friend a small glare, he says, "You gotta tell your momma where you are or she's gonna worry!"

Andy's face fell, distraught. "Momma sad?"

Seeing the tears, Tim hurries to say, "No! No, no,no! Hunny, she's not sad, but she will be if we don't go say 'hi', okay?"

Andy nods, her eyes still watery, but she wasn't crying, so Tim would take the win."

Cassie follows as Tim leaves the room. "You're pretty good with kids."

"You think?" Tim chuckles. It was part of his Robin training.

"Yeah, though I don't know how you're going to find her parents in a room of people."

Tim looked at her from the corner of his eye. "I memorise faces pretty easily," he says, "And I made the guest list, so they should be easy to spot. Especially if they've noticed Andy here missing."

He nods at Duke as he passes into the ballroom. Cassie waits outside for him.

Just as he said finding Arthur and Mera Curry was pretty easy. They were talking to Dinah Lance, Mister and Misses Elliot, Jason, and Roy and Lian Harper. It didn't seem like they'd realised Andy was missing yet, so this was going to be a fun conversation.

"Excuse me?" he said, placing his hand on Arthur's shoulder, "Sorry to interrupt, but Andy here was wandering off on her own, so I figured I should bring her back to you."

Mera turned, gasping a bit, though it was probably mostly for dramatics. "Andrina!" Gently, she takes the toddler from Tim's arms, "You were supposed to be with Jackson! Why did you wander off?"

"Bo'ed." Andy huffs.

Arthur chuckles. "Thanks for bringing her back, ..?"

"Tim Drake," he offers his hand for a handshake, "I'm Jason's little brother."

"Squirt," Jason acknowledges, "You sticking around?"

He shakes his head. "Nah. I'm gonna go back to the sitting room."

"What?" Roy chuckles, "Too important to stay with adults?"

Tim raises his eyebrow challengingly. "Andy had the right idea. You adults are pretty boring."

The entire group laughs as he excuses himself, leaving the room quickly. He meets Cassie just outside the door.

"I'm Cassie Sandsmark," she says, holding her hand for a handshake.

Tim accepts, "Tim Drake."

"I know. You're pretty famous, y'know?"

He groans. "Don't remind me, man."

"Not all it's cracked up to be?"

"Not even close."

Cassie laughs and Tim joins her. It'll be a weight off his shoulders when his team finally knows him in and out of costume. Though, he knows they'll be hurt at first, they'll more likely find this prank hilarious, especially when he shows them the Cave footage of Phase One.

He and Cassie find Bart and Kon in the same corner as before, though they both have food and there's more people in the room.

"Hi," Tim greets, "I'm Tim Drake. I'm glad you could make it!"

"Connor Kent," he then points to Bart, "That's Bart Allen."

"Cassie Sandsmark," she says.

They all shake hands and merge conversations. For a moment, Tim can imagine that there's no secrets between them.

Eventually, the conversation turns to the Gotham Vigilantes.

"You know the rumors, don't you?" Tim says.

"What rumors?" Kon asks.

He watches his teammates for a seconds before glancing around the room and leaning in to whisper conspiratorially. They lean in as well. "That the Bats and his Birds aren't human."

There's a pause.

"Excuse me?" Cassie blinks.

Tim nods. "No one's quite sure where or when Batman showed up. And the others? None of them seem quite human. Some people think that Batman was created by the sheer amount of magic that's cursed the city."

Bart tilts his head to the side. "Gotham's cured?"

"Yep! Didn't you know that? Can't you feel it?"

"Drake," Damian says from behind the three heroes, startling them, "What are you doing?"

Tim shrugs, leaning away from his friends, "Telling my friends about the magic in Gotham."

"Tt. Baseless assumptions."

"Half of the rogues in the city are undead."

"What?" Kon half exclaims.

"The other half have PhDs in different fields." Damian refutes, "Your point?"

"Yeah, that's fair." Tim agrees, "Konnor, Cassie, Bart; this is my little brother Damian. Damian, this is Konnor Kent, Cassie Sandsmark, and Bart Allen."

"Pleasure to meet you." He was not convincing in the least.

"Nice to meet ya, little dude," Kon smiles.

Damian scowls. "Do not call me little."

"Aww!" Bart coos, laughing, "He's so cute!"

Damian bristles like a cat. "I am not-!"

He's cut off by Jon Kent throwing an arm over his shoulder. "Dami!" he smiles, "You've met my uncle now!"

Cassie does a double take. "You're an uncle?"

Kon shakes his head. "Yep."

"Jon," Damian says, significantly calmer now that his friend is here. "Remove your arm from my shoulder or I will remove it from yours."

Tim clicks his tongue. "Don't be like that, Dami. Who's your friend?"

"This is my nephew, as your heard," Kon introduces, "Jon Kent."

"You're Clark and Lois's kid, huh?" Tim asks.

"You know my parents?"

"'Course," he shrugs, "They've covered quite a few of the events that I've been to."

"You say that as though that's something to be proud of," Damian snarks.

"Shove off, Baby Bat."

If anyone asks, the slip was purposeful.

The group freezes.

For a long moment, their little corner is silent.

"No fucking way." Kon swears. "Red?!"

Tim barely hides his snort. "Surprise."

Damian sighs. "Nice going, Drake."

"Oh, shove off, brat. I was gonna tell them anyway." Quieter, he says, "Though, the meeting I was arranging is redundant now."

"Hold on, hold on, hold on!" Bart interrupts, 'What's going on?"

Sighing, Tim leans against the wall. "B decided it was time to tell our teams our real names, but, in true B fashion, he's being dramatic about it. We've pranked the Justice League, and I have the footage if you wanna see."

Cassie holds up her hand to make him stop talking. It works. "You're Red Robin. Which means you're Robin."

"Yes." Damian confirms.

"That means that Batman is Bruce Wayne." she says. It takes a second for her words to really sink in. "What the hell!"

"Are you gonna keep freaking out, or do you wanna see what we did to the Justice League last month?"

"Are you bribing us?" Bart asks, almost apauld.

"Is it working?"

"Yes."

Part 15 Part 17

[svltzmans]

take it out on me - h.m.

a/n: hi! i'm trying to get back into writing longer stuff that's not in headcanon format so let's see how that goes (also this was a requested prompt and 🫣🥵)

warnings: smut (18+), dirty talk, slight nipple play? minor overstimulation? hope is stressed :(, but not for long lmao, i accidentally deleted this whole thing and had to write it again, so sorry for any mistakes :(

hope's stress-filled lifestyle was getting to her, and she knew it.

being both a full time student and monster hunter wasn't exactly the easiest thing, but she thought she would be able to handle it with ease.

that was, until, malivore decided to bombard the salvatore school with creatures during the week of final exams.

hope was constantly getting pulled away from her studies by alaric, and although she knew she was protecting herself and those she loved, she couldn't help but be annoyed.

performing well in school had always been important to hope, and not being able to prepare had her brain in shambles.

when hope finally does get to sit down to study, she just can't focus. she has too many things to think about, and she just can't seem to organize herself.

closing her book in dismay, she throws herself onto her bed and stares at the ceiling.

she decides that if she's not going to be studying, she might as well have company. picking up her phone for the first time in what feels like hours, she sends a text to her girlfriend.

exams are stressing me out and i think i'd feel better with you here.

hope stares blankly for a few minutes, awaiting a response, until she hears the door to her bedroom open.

"hey beautiful," y/n says, plopping down on the bed next to hope.

"couldn't even get a text back?" hope teases, giving y/n a quick peck on the lips.

"i was a little busy running over here."

hope can't help but laugh, admiring the girl in front of her. she was wearing an oversized sweatshirt and joggers that made her look undeniably adorable.

when y/n speaks again, there's concern in her voice.

"so, stressed about your exams, huh?"

"i just can't focus on reading my textbooks. dr. saltzman has me running around what feels like the whole world, and i'm just exhausted."

y/n's heart twinges hearing the pain in hope's voice. she rests her hand on her girlfriend's leg, hoping to provide some comfort.

"he relies on you too much. i know you're like, a powerful force and he's just an old man, but..."

before y/n can finish her sentence, hope is laughing harder than she has in days.

"you always know how to make me feel better," hope smiles, looking into y/n's eyes.

"actually, speaking of that," y/n pauses. "i had an idea."

y/n stands up, never breaking eye contact with hope. hope stares up at her, confusion in her eyes, but her questions are answered when y/n takes her hoodie off, her joggers following shortly after.

hope is speechless when she sees her girlfriend in a set of deep red lace. the color compliments y/n's skin perfectly, the material extenuating hope's favorite parts of her.

"god, y/n," hope chokes out. "what's this all about?"

"i thought i could, help with the stress," y/n seduces, wrapping her legs around hope's waist and resting her hand on her girlfriend's face. "maybe you could take it out on me, huh?"

the second y/n finishes speaking, hope pulls her into a passionate kiss, y/n's hands still resting on her face.

"i knew you'd like this surprise," y/n teases in between kisses.

"you're so beautiful," hope responds, holding y/n's waist tightly.

"take it off, hope."

without another word, hope makes quick work of taking off y/n's lace bra and underwear, throwing them across her bedroom before doing the same to her own.

unable to help herself, hope cups y/n's chest, running her fingers lightly across her nipples. y/n lets out a guttural moan, her fingers in hope's hair.

"fuck, hope," y/n slurs before giving hope a gentle push, encouraging her to lay on her back.

"i'm gonna fuck you until you can't think of anything else but me, nevermind stress about anything," y/n whispers, lightly kissing hope's neck.

y/n continues kissing down hope's body until she lands at her inner thighs, peppering them in soft pecks.

"please, don't tease y/n. need this so bad," hope whimpers, trying to raise her hips enough to ride y/n's face.

"oh i know you need this, hope. you're so wet for me already," y/n coos, just barely running her finger up hope's pussy.

"please baby, want it so bad," hope moans, her desperation growing by the second.

"want what, pretty girl? you gotta tell me what you want, or i can't give it to you." y/n knows that bringing hope to the brink of insanity makes the entire experience more gratifying.

"i need you to eat me out, y/n," hope begs.

satisfied by hope's response, y/n's tongue finally makes contact with her, sending hope into a state of ecstacy immediately.

hope feels like she can't contain herself, not even attempting to keep her voice down. she pulls y/n closer by her hair, unable to get enough of her.

hope's moans only motivate y/n, her pace quickening with every noise out of hope's mouth.

"can't be stressed if you're busy cumming on my face, pretty girl," y/n teases, hearing hope only get louder at the sound of her words.

"you just, you feel so good y/n," hope writhes as she speaks, her voice shaking.

y/n is relentless, not wasting a second. she knows how badly hope needs this. how badly hope needs her.

luckily for hope, the feeling was mutual.

y/n was in awe of the way hope looked under her, the desperation and need vibrant in her eyes.

without hesitation, y/n thrusts a finger into hope, earning a near-scream from her girlfriend.

"oh god y/n, more," she whines, trying to coax the girl into adding another finger.

when she does, the combination of y/n's fingers and mouth are almost too much for hope, sensitivity coursing through her body.

"need to cum baby, can't take any more," hope whines, struggling to form a full sentence.

"then cum for me, beautiful. let it all out," y/n talks hope through her orgasm, enjoying every second of her reaction.

hope somewhat collapses, her legs lightly shaking and her cheeks flushed.

"i don't think i'm stressed anymore," hope laughs, y/n soon joining her.

"always here to help."

[bonefall]

I know you don’t rewrite arcs until they’re done, but I love hearing about your early ideas while I brood over how badly this arc has let me down. Do you have any like super vague ideas about Splashtail’s motivations yet? He’s like a way worse Hawkfrost in my mind, because they’re both very young cats who Are Just Evil. But Hawkfrost had a genuinely interesting backstory that the Erin’s simply fumbled, meanwhile Splashtail is a cartoonishly evil atheist. I feel nothing towards him, he’s not intimidating or interesting or even funny. Save me Bonefall save me (if I got something wrong please ignore it, these books are so disappointing my brain is making me forget them to protect itself.)

If it helps at all, I'm staying sane with the observation that Hawkfrost is a high charisma character making critical failure rolls, while Splashtail is a cringefail loser with no stats rolling nat20s. He becomes 50% more sufferable when you imagine a long, pungent pause after anything he says, broken only by the sound of an offscreen player tossing some dice. When the silence is broken, it's whatever NPC has been charmed speaking in the beleaguered voice of the dungeon master.

SO my early thoughts are shaping up to be that I'd like to do a slightly more serious version of that.

BB!Splashtail is the Clan equivalent of a 19-year-old, desperate for more power and respect in his society. In terms of his stats, he's promising but not outstanding. A decent fighter, a competent leader. Even in terms of lineage; his father is Sneezecloud, a respected trader and negotiator, but his mother is Havenpelt. An ex-rogue who has sworn to live by the ways of RiverClan.

Curlfeather is the one with the plans. She's the one with vision. Daughter of Reedwhisker, grandchild of Mistystar, with grand leaders like Bluestar, Oakheart, and Crookedstar in her past, greatness runs in her blood. Scandal, too-- but for some reason it's acceptable that her great-grandparents were codebreaking traitors.

Splashtail hates Curlfeather, but he can't get anywhere unless he tries to be her. He steals HER plans. He acts like SHE does. Manages to snatch power from her paws, and then has no idea what to do with it.

I'm thinking that I want his reign to be going smoothly at first, actually, going from a bit of a bossy jerk, to trying to enact Curlfeather's ambitions by launching fights and doing it badly, to active tyranny as he tries to keep control over RiverClan. Depending on how Star goes, I might have Berryheart make some kind of move to seize power over him.

At the core of how I see him though, is that Splashtail has no plan. His ideology leans Thistle Law... in a sort of dumbass 4Channer kind of way. He talks a big game about the glory of battle, but folds fast when his enemy can punch back. The only person he could successfully manipulate was a traumatized child. He will bring back pureblooded glory to the Clan, except his personal family of course

As for the Evil Atheism stuff... lol. Lmao, even. Not needed. If I need to make him a more powerful and serious danger, it's not going to come from the fact he's godless. If being an atheist gave you super murder powers, Bill Nye would have used them to obliterate half of the US government by now.

Depending on how the last book of ASC goes,

The Harelight kill is probably going to get changed to Hallowflight. Harelight watches his dad die, and Splashstar is drenched in the blood of one of RiverClan's most famous heroes. No turning back after that.

On that note I'd also make the fight longer and bloodier. A butchery of an execution showcasing Splashtail fighting like a beast and Hallowflight like a trained warrior.

I REAALLY want to make Splashtail's death a drowning. Curlfeather, demon she is now, finishes him off by dragging him under. To protect her daughter. They will have to do something VERY satisfying for me to not do this.

[fuzzybirdie]

Hero Of Changing Faces

Ch.4 Congrats! It's an Ice Ice Baby

Danny and Signal arrived at the enterance without issue. The Purple Hood person there pointed them to his parents the moment he said loud. Dissapointing but not supprising.

"Dann-o!" His farher called waving enthusiastically "I see you've met the local ghosts! Have they mentioned anything of their unfinished buisness? And what happened to your hair?"

You couldn't see signal's eyes through his cowl, but his expression was firmly in a confused 'excUSE ME?' Expression.

"Wait what?" Danny pulled a lock of hair infront of his eyes and watched it fade back to black. "That's new. Anyway, Dad," Danny sighed, running a hand down his face "this is Signal. He's a meta. Metas are Humans-" punctuated by wild gesturing to himself and the rest of the crowd "-that have extra abilities. Signal can manipulate light, and I can create ice."

The fentons all froze at that. "Create ice?" His mother breathed.

"Yep!" Danny cheered, making an ice bird in his hand. "I was on the ride the not-announcer-"

"Joker?"

"Didn't seem too funny to me. Anyways, the not-announcer attacked the ride, and I managed to freeze the wheeles, and now I know that I have ice powers!"

His parents had a giddy expression on that read that he was in for a game of 21 questions when he got home, and jazz had buried her hands in her face.

"Please tell me you haven't been calling the joker -the guy that attacked you- not-announcer-guy..." Jazz pleaded.

Danny made a thoughtfull expression. "You see, I could, but then I'd be lying. Besides," he shrugged "he got a better name than Visorless Biker and Firetruck over there,"

The purple one, who was debriefing with Signal suddenly let out a Loud cackle. "I absoloutely need to call them that now!" Practically sprinting at them.

Signal shook his head and went to follow her, wether to continue the debrief or prevent a murder (Biker had a very 'fuck off' aura) who knows.

Before he could leave, Danny's dad called him. "Mr. Signal! You are human correct?" At Signal's confused confirmation, "are the other Bats human as well? We're mostly here for GHOST! Research!"

Signal bit his lips, obviously realising that Danny's parents were just like that(tm).

"Yes," he spoke slowly, "we're all human, just highly trained, and Very Private. If you want to do more reaserch, you'll have better luck in Central City. The speedsters love to talk about the mechanisims of meta abilities like theirs."

Danny's Dad slumped in defeat, while his Mum clapped her hands "Well then. Danny, we're very proud of you for your newfound abilities, and I want to hear all about them when we get home, but we should get going home.

"There aren't any ghosts here that live long term on this side of the veil. We might have more luck elsewhere."

~~~~~~~

masterpost

first / prev / tbp

Ao3 (maybe?)

So! The Gotham arc is finished! Hope everyone's enjoying so far, and that brains don't get too broken in the next part,

Edit: as a side note, I haven't actually read any Dc comics, and the only cartoon I've watched of theirs is young justice. (And Liegion of superheros, but that's set centuries in the future) so if i get anyone wildly ooc, please tell me. My only reference is fannon, after all.

[queer-n-here]

once again comin in with another meal to cook !!!

character of your choice ♡

stalker, obsessive and possessive reader (quite literally just yandere) seeing their SoulmateTM one day and just going full degenerate and doing everything in their power to learn more of their new lover, even getting rid of powerful foes or imaginary rival love interests for them. no one has any idea as to how they're able to do things no human or gifted can do. eventually, reader slowly comes in and orchestrates their first meeting and slowly woos their lover, but they have major issues on hiding their possessiveness and jealousy of others. lover can either a) be all for it and find it hot or b) lover is unsettled by it.

either way, after someone flirts with their lover, reader kind of snaps and after that person leaves, reader excuses themself and goes to absolutely maim the persom who dared to approach what was his. it's nighttime when reader is finished with them, and they come home to their lover who is worried, but becomes horrified at seeing all the blood covering reader. all reader can think about is claiming his lover, breeding him and imprinting himself so deep inside his lover that they'll always feel empty without him. (dubcon would be amazing)

~ 🕸

Oh my god 🕸️ bro 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Bruv this is so good, love you for this, and yeah, y'all I've recently started reading a shit ton of dubcon/noncon so yeah...

I did this one for Akutagawa, cuz I feel like this could work for a situation where the reader is in the Port Mafia.

Also,this one got really long, and I haven't posted in like two days, so I thought I'd make two parts, yknow? Read Pt. 2 here!

Contents: Yandere reader that stalks Akutagawa and plans out their first time meeting in person. Not that Akutagawa already knows reader's name since they both work for the Port Mafia, but that's about it.

Warnings: No smut in this part yet, top male reader, yandere tendencies, mentions of stalking, murder, ability user reader.

You had been watching Akutagawa ever since you joined the Port Mafia. In total, this is what three years of stalking and careful planning was gonna boil down to: this one opportunity.

You had planned it out meticulously, paid seventy eight people to be nearby and on the scene to prevent anything from going wrong.

A heroic rescue!

As you watched Akutagawa cut open those men with Rashomon, you couldn't help but smile. He was so precious, so brave, so beautiful, so-

You shook your head, forcing yourself to concentrate. You couldn't miss your cue. Akutagawa wasn't stupid. If you made half a mistake, he'd know what was up.

One of the men got too close to Akutagawa for your liking, and you pounced on the opportunity like a starving cat.

You dashed out of your hiding spot, your ability leaping out and cutting the man to the ground.

Akutagawa turned to look at you, surprised.

Some of the men halted, too. They hadn't thought that you would actually hurt one of them. Before it was too apparent, and before Akutagawa could notice the changes in their expressions, your ability flew out, covering the entire area. Soon, all the men but the one you were enamored with were lying on the ground in pieces.

"[Name]," Akutagawa said, frowning slightly. "Aren't you supposed to be responsible for the East block tonight?"

"I asked Higuchi to handle it." You shrugged seemingly casually, your hands in your pockets as you scanned Akutagawa's body for any injuries. "The weather is great tonight, so I thought I'd step out for a drink. And good thing I did, otherwise you would have been cut to pieces."

Akutagawa sulked slightly, no longer focusing on the reason behind your sudden appearance. "I could've handled it."

Of course he could've, he's literally perfect.

"Were these Guild's men?" Akutagawa looked around the bloody mess of bodies around you two.

"How would I know?" You placed your hands behind your head.

Akutagawa shrugged. "Whatever, they're dead now."

And so the night ended. You took Akutagawa back to his home, pretending to ask for directions, when in reality you had his address memorized. He tried to turn you down, saying that you were being paranoid, but you said you'd rather be safe than sorry.

When you reached the tall apartment building, you watched him step inside, waiting for the light to turn on in the window you knew was his before leaving.

Over the next few weeks, you orchestrated multiple meetings between you two, always appearing out of nowhere and going back to it. Slowly, Akutagawa opened up, and started trusting you.

Miraculously, you even got Mori to assign you and Akutagwa to the same area. It cost you it's worth; you had to help Mori convince Elise into some bullshit.

It wasn't long before you were sure Akutagawa had developed feelings for you. He was painfully easy to read; his cheeks would flush every time you got too close, you could sometimes feel his eyes following you as you moved around. Once, when you 'casually' playfully winked at him, and you swore you could hear his breath hitch.

But you waited. The perfect thing to seal the deal for you and Akutagawa would be a confession from him, and not from you.

There were times when you almost gave up on this thought, like that one time one of your clients found interest in Akutagawa. He was ugly as hell and nowhere close to Akutagawa, who shone brighter than the sun. You had to take care of him your own way afterwards, slitting open his insides in your secret warehouse and throwing his pieces away to the dogs.

That wasn't a first-time occurrence, nor was it the last, but you fought well to keep your cool as long as Akutagawa was around. You didn't want him to know that side of you.

That day, you had known something was up even before you saw Akutagawa. There was a funny feeling in your stomach, and you felt like something great was going to happen.

And it did.

"I... I really l-like you."

His words caught you off guard, and for a moment you almost punched yourself in the face to confirm whether it was a dream or reality. But you stopped yourself.

"Really?" Even as you spoke, your hands were already reaching for Akutagawa, pulling him closer to you.

He nodded, his entire face red.

A small broke through your face, and you kissed him, holding his waist in your hands.

It was finally happening. It was finally happening! Three years, four months, twenty-seven days, sixteen hours and forty-two minutes after you'd first laid eyes on this angelic man, you had finally kissed him!

It was a gentle kiss, despite the roaring in your head and all the urges to crush him into yourself. You nipped at Akutagawa's lips gently, making his breath hitch in that oh-so majestic way. He tasted like the best thing in the world, and you just couldn't get enough.

It was him who pulled away first, you wouldn't willingly part from those beautiful lips even if you suffocated to death. Staring at you with shining eyes and a shy little smile on his ethereal face, Akutagawa spoke.

"So... D'you... wanna be my boyfriend?"

Yes, yes, YES! A thousand times yes!

You nodded, pressing your forehead against his.

[catboybiologist]

Alright I can't finish this all in one sitting, but here's at least a bit of.... something? A word vomit? A prelude to smut about the eroticism of the machine? For all you robot, mecha, and spaceship fuckers out there. @k1nky-r0b0t-g1rl that means you

Pappy always said that manufacturing biological transportation was nothing knew. I mean, shit, humanity's been breeding horses for how long? To him, not much was novel about what was going on in the shipyards way out by Neptune when I was a kid.

But Pappy didn't know a lot of things. And he certainly didn't meet Roseanna.

The Federation Navy had experimented with biologics for decades. The idea was to create self regenerating ships- something to interface with the hull, move the new titanium plates and particulates into place, have a living, growing mass interfacing with the steel so that the ship didn't have to head all the way back to the yards to patch up after every dogfight.

The first generation... worked. With a full time crew, that is. Full time people on deck jabbin the rigid, chitonous interface with the hull full of growth hormones to get them to set just right. Full time onboard bioengineers to compute what signaling cocktail ya need to hit 'em with to get it to grow back right. Skilled onboard technicians to shave back the chitin when it tried to overgrow the titanium, and slap some new cells in to seed the process in heavily damaged areas. Less input material, less time in the yards, but far more manpower. Great for a Federation cruiser on deep space peacekeeping missions. Far too complex for small craft. Right?

Until some bastard put brains in 'em.

Well. A lotta suits would say that they weren't brains. They were a diffuse network of sensory neurons and ganglia, living inside the body of the ship, integrating signals from a skin of alloyed metal and fibrous protein, calculating power draw too and from various components, and integrating with the mechanical and electrical components of the ship to precisely manage the "wound healing" process of the vessel. And of course, it just so happened that one of those ganglia was larger and more complex than the rest of them, and it just so happened that the computer interfaces with this ganglia exhibit complex, thinking behaviors on the level of human cognition, and it just so happens that most pilots and navigators reported them developing their own personalities.....

But of course, the Navy didn't want anyone to have some kind of pesky empathy in the way of their operations. And they certainly didn't want anyone side eyeing the rate at which they disposed of the damn things, and let them suffer and rot after disposal. So as far as the official record was concerned, they didn't have brains.

Like most people in the belt, I found Rosie on a... unsponsored field trip to the Neptune scrap yards. She wasn't a ship then. She wasn't much of anything. Not much more than a vat with the central ganglia and just barely enough of the stem cells needed to regrow a network. But I took her all the same. Brains were valuable. Few pilots outside the Navy had them back then. Nowadays, a black market for "brain seeds", a cocktail of neuronal stem cells and enough structural stem cells to grow your own into the chassis of your ship. They were pumpin' em out, and leaving them to die. It was cruel. They may be vehicles, but they're a livin' being too.

But I digress. I'd never do that to Roseanna. I make sure she gets proper care. And for a good, proper, working ship? That includes some good, proper work.

The asteroid we were docked in was one of my usuals- good bars, nice temp quarters, nice views of the rock's orbiting twin, and a spacious hanger for Rosie to rest in. The chasiss I had imprinted Roseanna to was a 40-meter light skipper, with some adjustments for handling deep space trips. It was pretty much the smallest thing you could actually use to live and work for long periods of time, but it got the job done. The angular design made the entire ship look like a wedge, or the blade of a bulky dagger. It didn't hurt that each bottom edge was fortified with a sharpened titanium blade, turning the entire sides of the ship into axe-like rams.

Those would probably come in handy today.

I approached Roseanna on the catwalk above her, marveling her alloyed scales. I could almost see her shudder in anticipation as my footsteps vibrated through the air above her. I took the steps down, and hit the trigger to open her top hatch.

When the news got out of the Navy scuffling with a rebelling mining station, an electric air raced across the station. Some went about their day as normal. Some resigned themselves to picking at the leftovers after the dust had settled. And some, like me, knew that they could get the finest pickings.

I strapped in to the pilot's seat like it was an old boot.

"Welcome, Captain Victoria."

Rosie could talk, but more often than not, she chose not to. But she understood me just fine. Most of our communication took place using her three prerecorded lines- her welcome statement, affirmative, and negative- as well as the tiny screen showing a small, emoticon face. Many pilots chose to give their ships an elaborate render, but Rosie preferred it this way. It was the first face I gave her, from somewhere out of the scrap heaps, and she refused any offer I made to upgrade. Secretly, I was overjoyed. To me, that was her face. That was her voice. And it was beautiful to see her true self through them.

I brushed my hands across her paneling. Across the switches, the hydraulic controls for the plasma fuel, the steering, the boosts, the comms channels. The thing with biologics was that you were still the pilot. For whatever reason, they hadn't quite gotten to the point where the brains could take over their own piloting. My personal opinion was just that their personalities lacked the ambition to. But whatever reason that was, the best pilots were still the ones that knew both their ship, and the ship's brain. And me and Rosie? We knew each other well.

As my fingers touched the brushed aluminum controls, rimmed with chitinous layers rooting them into the ship, I could feel the walls around me holding their invisible breath. "Do you know what we're doing today, Rosie?"

Her tiny panel flickered on. ...?

"We got a scrap run."

^_^

:)

^_^

Her panel flicked between various expressions of excitement. My finger quivered on the main power, holding for a moment before flicking it on. The primary electronics of the ship hummed to life, and what Rosie controlled pulsed with it. My hands moved across the main functional panels- main hydraulic plasma valve, exhaust ports open, and finally, flicking the switch the start the plasma burner.

My hands gripped the steering. The hanger's airlock doors opened in front of me. My neck length hair started to float as the station's gravity shut off. I hit the switch to unlatch from the supports above. For a moment, we hang there. The dull crackle of the idling plasma burner is the only sound that resonates through Rosie's hull.

Go time.

I punch the boost.