#rump smothering

[twistedtummies2]

Well, it was only a matter of time before things got kinky between Giggle and Billy. Don't ask me how the harp wound up sleeping under the big guy's fat, rosy bottom, but trust me...that red face isn't just from a need for oxygen. Having said that, you probably should get off him, Billy. How is he supposed to sing without air! ...Lucky little songbird, for the record, seriously. >///>

[philistiniphagottini]

Wrote this after work because I was horny. Enjoy~

cw. nsfw, smut, face sitting, eating out (fem receiving) fem! reader, MDNI

"Ahh, Veritas" you sighed blissfully.

You wedged your bottom lip between your teeth, stifling the loud moan that tickled the back of your throat as a pleasant tingle raced down your spine. Your eyelashes fluttered over your warm cheeks, eyes threatening to slip close as your blood simmered hotly in your veins. Another pleasant shiver raced down your back as your spine curved in a beautiful arch, the tips of your fingers tingling with numbness as you delved your hands through a mop of purple hair.

Dr. Ratio hummed loudly beneath you, the vibrations feeling heavenly on your dripping pussy as he sealed his lips over your pulsing clit. Your legs quaked around his head, knees pressing harder into the pillow supporting his head as you caged his head in and stuffed more of your pussy into his mouth. He was more than eager to encourage your hedonistic movements, large hands splayed against the fat of your rump and cupping the scruff of your cheeks as he yanked you forward. You released your kiss swollen lips as you whined his name, wisps of his silky hair curling around your fingers as you sank your nails into the back of his scalp.

"Veritas, feels so good" you moaned, his name dripping off your tongue like warm honey.

He squeezed your plush flesh in response, tongue swirling around the hot little button at the top of your pussy and suckling on the bud as it flushed it life under his expert ministrations. A hot coil wound tight in the pit of your stomach, knotting tighter with each precise lashing of Dr. Ratio’s tongue as it delved through your slick folds, his lips glistening like morning dew as he ate you like he had been parched for three straight days. The obscene noises coming from between your thighs turned your ears hot, the slick sounds only drowned out by the utter filth that was dripping from your mouth.

Your chest heaved with exertion, soft tits bouncing with every languid thrust of your hips as his tongue was dragged back and forth along your drooling pussy. Your thighs wobbled, toes curling into the soles of your feet as another violent spike of pleasure sent your mind into a tizzy, heart beat so loud you could hear it echoing in your ears. You dug your nails into the back of his scalp harder, a hot groan puffed against your twitching clit as you pressed more of your weight onto your lover. He was more than content to be smothered between your thick thighs; your searing skin warm against his ears as he lapped at the beads of sweet arousal that dribbled from your core, his cock aching every time he pried another breathy sound from your rosy lips. Your sweet cries of ecstasy were the only praise he needed, spurring him on to please you more and pick you apart intimately at the seams, one loose thread at a time.

You squealed when you felt his fingers pressing into you, a long digit sinking into your tender heat as your soused walls clenched around the intrusion. The pace of your hips stuttered, the pressure in your core tense as another finger slipped in along side the first. You mewled softly, lips parted around Veritas’ name as you rolled your hips back into his hand, his fingers sinking down to the knuckle with a wet squelch as you were stretched open. Your vision wavered as fireworks sparked in the pit of your stomach, the constant thrashing of his tongue against your swollen clit fraying every white-hot nerve in your trembling body. You squeezed his head between your thick thighs as his fingers curled inside you, the tips brushing up against the soft, gummy patch that had stars dancing in your vision. His free hand lazy swatted your plush backside as you grind your clit harder into his mouth, relishing the loud groan that rumbled in his chest as your clit throbbed on the flat of his tongue.

"Veritas…fuck, feels so good" you babbled, struggling to keep your eyes uncrossed and rolling into the back of your head. "Gonna cum, gonna cum-"

You could barely finish your sentence before your voice tapered off, followed by a sharp gasp of air whistling through your clenched teeth. You cradled his head in your hands, body slumping forward as you strained to keep yourself upright. You whined his name one last time as your body stumbled over the crumbling precipice and the coil in your stomach shattered into a million pieces. You clamped your thighs around his head, trapping him in place and threatening to suffocate him as your body twitched and convulsed above him. Your plush walls squeezed around his fingers like a vice, sweet nectar dripping around his fingers as he continued to suckle on your pulsing warmth, your clit rolling over his tongue like it was his favourite sweet. He helped you to ride out the waves of your pleasure high, hips slowly rutting into his face as the last dregs of pleasure burned your nerves until they fizzled out.

With little difficulty he raised your hips, parting from your drooling pussy with a satisfied pop. His eyes finally peeled open, drinking in your dishevelled form above him. His eyes followed the bead of sweat that rolled down the valley of your trembling bosom, wisps of hair sticking to your clammy skin as your bruised lips parted around greedy gasps for air. He traced his thumbs over your sore hips, rubbing soothing circles into your skin as you gave him a giddy smile. Your head still felt like it was spinning as you stared down at your partner in a daze. You couldn’t stop yourself when you began to speak.

"So Doctor, on a scale of 1 to 10, how do you rate me?" you asked with a soft slur to your voice.

You were obviously still drunk on your own pleasure, body burning with a satisfied ache. His tongue swept over his lips, lapping at the remnants of his meal as his curious gaze flickered up to your face. He pointedly rolled his eyes at your question.

"Isn’t it obvious?"

"Come on, Doctor" you prodded, massaging your fingers against the back of his scalp.

He sighed heavily before a smirk tilted the corners of his lips. "8 out of 10" he stated bluntly.

You gave an indignant huff in response. "Only an 8?" you protested.

"I’ll give you the other 2 points if you can squirt in my mouth next time. Without my assistance. I’m sure even you can handle that."

You pouted. Well, guess it was time to stuff his mouth with your pussy again so he would stop talking.

[dvilsdesire]

spicy prompt for my fave incubus :3c

haarlep or raph being used as a cock warmer while cuddling at night ✨️ 👀

Writing prompts

Haarlep was like a wretched child that could not get comfortable, or like a dog that was sniffing around for the perfect spot to curl up on. By the Nine, it was annoying, especially when the creature didn't need sleep like Raphael did.

From beneath the sheets, Raphael's brow pulled downward in a frown, his eyes scrunching closed as if that would help him succumb to the sleep he actually required. It did nothing, of course. In fact, it only made him more awake, and more frustrated. It was a vicious cycle.

"What are you doing!?" he finally snapped, eyes opening as he turned over his shoulder, the boudoir lit up only by the souls that roamed the area and the oil lamps that were lit. The curtains to the large windows and doors were all drawn closed to give the illusion that Avernus had some semblance of night, despite how bright it was outside.

"Would you just pick a spot and be done with it?"

Haarlep, who paused in his movements, pouted as his wings were trapped beneath the blankets and he felt like he was being smothered. "My dear, I cannot get my wings comfortable like this," the incubus sighed dramatically.

"Then go away."

The incubus only pouted more. "That's not fair, my pet. You are allowed to sleep in your human face so the wings don't get tangled. I cannot."

No, the creature couldn't. At least, not whilst Haarlep was within Raphael's company. He did not like when his personal incubus turned to a different glamour during his sleep, or anywhere in the bedroom for that matter. That was for his preference only. Whatever Haarlep did behind closed doors was the creature's own business, but not within his company.

"Then get out from beneath the sheets and rest on top of them. It is truly that simple." Raphael said it like he was speaking to an incompetent child. He rolled back over and fluffed his pillow up with a huff, closing his eyes again.

When the bed shifted from the weight, he felt cool air at his back when Haarlep obviously pulled the covers back, but suddenly, an infernal heat was pressed up against where the cold had reached (not that it was cold, by any means, not in the House of Hope).

"Haarlep..." he muttered, his eyes halving in annoyance. He was certain he could feel his temple throbbing.

"Shh, I am comfortable now," purred Haarlep, his arms moving around Raphael's waist and pulling him against his belly. With the size difference, it was a perfect fit, Raphael's back nestled against his stomach, his rump sitting right between his legs as he tended to curl up during his sleep.

A sudden heat surged up Raphael's spine, his hands having tucked themselves beneath his pillow. They suddenly closed into fists. It wasn't his comfortable pillow that made him feel warm at night, though, or the blankets that tucked him in. Haarlep was a warm body to lean against, that required no effort on his half--and even if it did, he was more than pleased to indulge the incubus' nature, for it was his one true weakness.

"Haarlep, you-," the air was pushed from his lungs as he felt the incubus squeeze him, something firm pressing between his buttocks. Haarlep was not entirely erect, he could tell, but it was enough to feel the girth squeeze its way between his cheeks.

"If you are uncomfortable, then go away..." teased Haarlep, his warm breath against Raphael's ear, pressing his nose into the hair of the devil's head and taking in the scent of his lotions. His voice was a soft velvet between them, a temptation and corruption.

Raphael's muscles tensed at the notion that Haarlep would use his own words against him. They always did. They were a wretched creature, but one that was, at times, not worth the effort to correct. Or perhaps it was just Raphael had a fondness for them, and could not find it in himself to refuse the hellspawn.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes again, feeling Haarlep's warm arms wrap themselves around him, as if holding some sort of plush doll for comfort as the incubus slept--which they didn't need to do at all.

Raphael was a sore loser at the best of times, but some battles... he still won despite what Haarlep thought.

"Do not get used to this. I am merely too tired to entertain your childish antics this evening." Unlike some, Raphael actually had work that needed to be done in the morning.

Haarlep rumbled a little purr in his chest, right against Raphael's back. "Of course, my dear. I wouldn't think otherwise." He pressed his naked body against Raphael's further, his tail wrapping around a thigh.

They both knew that wasn't true. They both knew that Raphael liked every part of it.

[kevlarii]

Are you for Ukraine or Russia? I'm leaning towards Russia.

I hardly ever get anons anymore, but I really started pondering this question. For people who followed the conflict in Donbass from its very onset, the whole situation meant something else. In 2014-2015, we were all analysing the events at the front, the politics, the possible developments. And one by one, all our heroes died, disappeared, or were replaced. And the conflict turned into what his now open war between two sets of oligarchs, propelled by money and foreign interests. I have never hidden the fact that I favoured the Russian position; but what dawned on me after the first few weeks is the meaninglessness of it all. The Ukrainian position is often an array of hysterical, nonsensical positions that is often repeated ad nauseam by virtue-signalling, physically attractive and blindly Europhile Ukrainians who live abroad - and who have no connection to the forgotten soldiers dying in the trenches. And for what? Ukraine is done for either way, there will be no reconstruction, just a rump state increasingly populated by the elderly and the disabled, as everyone else emigrates to become a cog in the smothering suburban lifestyles of Western Europe. At the same time, the Russians have destroyed the legacy of one of the greateast European cultures in terms of softpower, and will be left to China's devices. Prigozhin showed that there is no real interest in fighting a war properly, the important thing is continuing to destabilise energy markets so the oligarchs can keep banking on the crisis. Who even talks about Donbass anymore? I feel disgusted with it all. So much Slavic blood spilled for nothing, under the auspices of competing interests that care little for the people. The truth is that the real enemy is hardly ever the guy sitting in trench opposite yours, but more often than not is the guy sitting in your capital city calling the shots from his desk

[tremendousmothergoat]

Hungry Daydream + Mayor Holiday, Is it in bad taste to imagine yourself doing naughty things your star student's parent, yes, is it worse when that parent is the mayor to your town? also yes. But in Toriel's defense Mrs. Holiday's hefty bust and rude, dismissive attitude, it's hard not to imagine her being put in her place, whether that place is pinned against a wall, being smothered under a goat rump, or squirming away in her gut~!

Boy, those parent-teacher conferences can get out of hand! What was just supposed to be a way of humiliating the mayor quickly went south when the squirming mayor thrashed around to the point of her head slipping up into Toriel's rump! At that point, well, Toriel just couldn't help herself. The mayor went from being smothered against the wall to getting swallowed up the goatmom's fat ass, kicking legs being the last thing to disappear as Toriel's belly plumped up further..

Hopefully all the burbling and growling of the squirming woman in her bowels didn't distract too much from the other meetings she'd have to do tonight!

[bigwoofmom]

okay, spill it, how many are under your clothes right now?

Lucille is just sitting on her couch with a smug smile on her face while dressed in what appears to be full latex bodysuit. With a casual demeanor she pulls her phone out of her cleavage and appears to open an app called "KT Suit Controls" makes a show of scrolling down to the Compression option and turns it down partially and instantly her suit seems to come alive. Nearly every inch of her suit had an imprint of some poor or lucky soul squirming under the shiny material. From her chest to gut to rump to crotch even under her arms and a bellyfold had someone's face pressed deep into them to a point where their imprint was nearly swallowed up by her smothering form.

With a tap of her thumb the option is turned back on fully and all the imprints are seemingly pulled back under the latex and into her body. Leaving the wolfess smiling smugly on her couch.

"The amount of times I get asked to entertain a party is surprisingly high you know~"

[cyber-corp]

Part 2: Dave

Oh shit. The coolest guy alive. A briefing of what he does in Act 2;

This here is Dave Strider, and he doesn't have any time for funny names.

After briefly contemplating bleating like a goat ironically and pestering John about the sick ass juice he found, he makes some sick beats on his sampler (which is another really cool way that HS uses its medium).

He allocates his katana to his Strife Specibus, nearly takes a SWIG of the juice (but doesn't because of monster piss, curse you Egbert) and then captchalogues the sword, spilling the juice on his copies of the SBURB Beta in the process.

He decides to hang them out to dry, before they get stolen by a RAMBUNCTIOUS BIRD.

After accidentally throwing his word out the window and ridding his copy of the beta in the process, Dave decides to venture into his brother's room to get his copy instead. He chills with Lil Cal for a bit.

He guesses the password to his brother's computer, and goes on Plush Rump, his brother's successful and ironic website.

Cal has mysteriously appeared behind him, Dave gives a nervous fist bump, and he moves towards the "kitchen". By this point it's very clear to the viewer that someone is moving Cal around to screw with Dave. He captchalogues a variety of things during this time, including box of fireworks, shurikens, some nunchucks, a "wheeled ride", a battery pack, a jumble of unbelievably shitty swords, some red spherical salutes, and a whirling blade pitcher. Jesus.

However, Dave notices a note from his brother on the hatch to the crawlspace, a very obvious reference to a certain horror franchise. He makes a fort on the turntables, pulls the cord, and gets absolutely smothered in puppet ass.

Luckily, he bursts out of the pile like "The One" and reads a note from his brother, telling him to go to the roof and to bring Cal along. So he does just that, but really coolly and sickly.

(this goes fucking hard)

We don't really get much of Dave in Act 3, but the glimpses we do get are of him getting absolutely knackered by his bro.

"bro just kicked my ass" indeed. In the aftermath, Dave mourns the tragic loss of Cal, shoves the beta into his sylladex, and tells Rose he's going to install it, which he will.

We get a brief lil' flashback on Dave's famous shades, the ones worn by Ben Stiller in the 2004 retro-mania remake of Starsky and Hutch. They were gifted to him by John, as a way of getting out of his bro's shadow and being his own cool guy.

In present day, Dave gets a troll message on Pesterchum, from a guy who definitely types like a total tool (but I feel they'll definitely come back later).

And then, with the help of Rose, Dave successfully installs the beta. Shit is now taking place.

The last point in Act 3 we see (presumably) Dave install SBURB and help Rose in her own sticky situation, before he gets swarmed by more birds. How ironic.

Homestuck is becoming increasingly difficult to read because you can never pick a favourite character. But Dave is definitely up there. His overall chill vibes are admirable. His fight scenes, although his ass gets whooped every time, are insane. I really hope we get more of him in future.

On the topic of Rose (and John I guess)

She helps him out, John gets a prophecy and a sick new hammer, her house nearly burns down, she has a weird mutant cat thing named Vodka Mutini, her old cat becomes a Kernelsprite and gets saved by it, and then possibly blows up in the house's meteor explosion. I don't know. Maybe.

John does more RPG stuff, gets some new drip, and at the end of 1149 jumps through a portal, where Act 3 ends.

I feel like John and Rose are the best duo so far. Any time they interact, either through SBURB or Pesterchum they bounce off each other's conversations like nothing. It's very fun!

I'll talk about these three later.

[gryfstmne]

The hypnotist behind you

I want to try something .

see if it feels right .

Imagine a relaxed atmosphere

where it is very private.

You count down from 10 to 1

With every number, you feel a touch

by the hypnotist standing behind you.

10. You feel his hands

on the sides of your waist.

He murmurs that you will feel warmth from his palms

spread from his hands to soothe and relax you

...and it spreads through your stomach ; stabilizing you , holding you .

You start to feel like you are glowing inside

as it spreads through your body.

9. He moves a hand over your rump

so softly ...slighly. Teasingly

and moans in your ear,

" Arousal begins here, and now you feel this !

You will think about this pleasure."

It Will occupy your thoughts. Now!

8. His hand caresses your neck.

He says, " you are vulnerable here in my hands,

but you like being vulnerable to me and enjoy my strong hands "

7. He moves in close behind you and reaches over your shoulders to touch your nipples and breaststroke.

He says, " you think about how I surround your body and hold you to me .

you like it. like my words surrounding and exciting you and smothering your will in my body ."

6. He puts his hands around your temples, and the warmth in his palms makes you almost dizzy. He says, " my hands hold your head .

my words hold your mind to me.

so warm and wonderful .

you feel your thoughts stop moving under my hands and just lie in your mind ,still and calm

5. He moves a hand on top of your head and says, " your attention drifts up to the top of your head.

My hand naturally draws your attention ,

your focus to me . Relax now .

you are safe in my hands.

4. His hands wrap around your balls now.

He tells you, " your body has connected to me. all your focus is now at my touch .

your thoughts waiting for the words ,

the commands that will control your body.

You want this above all else."

3. He strokes your thighs.

He strokes your cock.

So lightly, but it sends shivers throughout your body.

He says, " you think nothing, but of the pleasure of obeying my touch.

My words will tell you when .

You will want this to linger in your mind.

When I bring you to erection;

you will remember the words of mine

that brought you to this moment

...and if I decide to use them on you again,

you WILL come again .

You WILL want to obey them again and again .

2. He touches the tip and says the words

and your mind and body orgasm with ecstacy

as one  with him surrounding you,

enjoying you under his command.

1. He brings his hands up and keeps you stable as you recover yourself in the aftermath. 

He says, " enjoy my voice, my words, my boy.

And now , you may remember this

for the next time you want to serve me

like I tell you, for this pleasure of my voice.

My company.

But for now, come back to yourself.

  happy, peaceful, and strong

in mind and body.

Until next time

And then he is gone.

Ooh, but you wonder.... when 

you will hear him again.

......

[massive-marvel]

Natasha big booty should be sat on me, fr fr 😤😤

"There's an easy way to fix that, honey~" Natasha smirked, and with surprising agility for a woman of her size, spun around and deposited herself down on top of them, all but smothering them in her enormous rump~ It was heavy, warm, and soft, perfect for using someone else as a seat~

"This what you wanted? All this ass squishing down on you?~" She grinned mischievously, wiggling her hips to make that butt wobble and jiggle.

[eldritch-spouse]

Your monster boyos reactions to an s/o begging them to sit on their face or to rim them? They just want some monster cake so badly-

[You didn't specify, so I'm picking some of the more cake-endowed of the bunch.]

Reaction to begging to rim them/sit on you

Morell's thoughts on smothering have been discussed before, and this doesn't stray too far, honestly. He's generally very hesitant about anything that involves his ass, but this is less stressful for him than pegging. And you are begging for it, which is really good behavior, which he definitely wants to see more of. To reiterate, let him think he has control, and don't get too rough initially. He's never really been tongued there, so his reactions will be very humorous. Morell's cautious about his weight on you, and he's definitely very embarrassed about his own noises, but he does enjoy it more than he cares to admit.

Santi's perspective has also been talked about. You don't need to beg him, but it does help him get hard in a hot second. Santi's neither ashamed nor inexperienced, so you can go ham down there and he'll let you know how well you're doing very soon. He does grind and encourage you to go as deep as possible, moaning his heart out while he fucks his own hand stupid. It's a good idea to play with his tail in this position, as kissing/licking around it is also pleasurable to the demon. You're encouraged to get his hands on him as much as you want. He tends to get a bit rough after a while.

Vesper was wondering when you'd ask for something like that. Begging gets you bonus points in his eyes! Ask and you shall receive, the Icon of Lust's ass is all yours for whatever you please. He doesn't recommend sitting due to his massive form, but he can squat if that's not a problem for you. You have a tiny little tongue that doesn't go quite as far as he'd wish it did, yet your enthusiasm is really hot to the incubus and he'll gladly encourage this behavior. He likes to draw it out and tease himself, the more you squeeze and nose at his ass the louder he gets. Tug on his tail or head tendril for added pleasure.

Zizz is not a good candidate for this. This monster is likely to falter or grow tired and let his entire weight drop on your poor head. If you'd like to eat his ass out, then have him lay down preferably, or with his rump up. While he doesn't do this often, Zizz is good at making himself relax, so you won't meet a lot of resistance, though he'll probably whine and ask you to jerk him off too. His tail almost always coils around your neck, only ever choking if he notices it gets you off. Take your time, he really enjoys getting spanked, so you can play around with that too.

Nebul generally isn't one to do this much unless it's meant to be humiliating. And he'd normally deny this request, but you begged. That type of discipline absolutely must be acknowledged, rewarded heavily. Thus his robes are pulled up and you're in for a ride. Nebul is domineering, he'll grind and apply as much weight as he wants, your hair gets pulled if you don't work it good enough and you better start playing with his balls/cock at some point. At most, you'll get his legs to tremble and hear some more higher-pitched noises out of the undead. There's a pretty good chance you'll get taunted about this, but Nebul has to admit he's glad you're into it, because he loves the feeling.

Pebble, quite like Morell, is a scaredy-cat about anything concerning his ass. You have to start softly, with just grabbing and kissing, stroking his tails to soothe him before you even think of getting your tongue in there. Pebble can't look at you when this starts, it flusters him too much. He's also not going to sit on you, at least not without a good grip on something, lest his dense body crush you. The gargoyle's never done that before, he's probably sensitive enough to cum with the barest touch to his dick while he's getting rimmed. Curiously, his wings flap a bit the closer he gets to orgasm.

[twistedtummies2]

There's a reason playing Hide-and-Seek with a giant can be...problematic. More art by Twisted-Brainrot, featuring my boi Billy and their new boi, Giggle. 'Nuff said. <3

[facefartdreams]

Brendan played his video games while I layed in his bed behind him. His ass was to die for and I had a front row seat as it wiggled with every abrupt move of his game. Level 5!” Brendan cheered. Soon I smelled a familiar smell of sewage. Brendan had released an SBD that filled my nose with his rancid gas brew. I was on the receiving end of many of his butt bombs during our friendship... but this one tops the cake to this day.“Sorry I farted” He waved a hand behind his ass after his half-assed apology. The waving turned into wafting as he started moving a second fart into my face. “Dude, I’m full of gas tonight. I may even have to lock you in a dutch oven.” His threat brought you to the verge of cumming. “Hey Hey Hey!” Brendan pushed his rump into my face and ripped a loud, but smaller fart into my face. The smell was just as bad and he laughed as he continued playing his game. I smelled wave after wave of SBD for the next hour. The average man farts around 20 times a day. From my experience men fart more than that... closer to 30, maybe even 40 times a day. However, within that hour I smelled over 50 farts from my best friend’s ass. Brendan was still enjoying his game and not even acknowledging his rancid gas attack “Holy fucking hell dude, you stink! Gosh how do you let out so much gas?” I finally spoke up and Brendan paused the game, bent over and ripped the mother load of all farts. Twenty seconds of gas spewed right into my face as Brendan began laughing at my situation. “I have so much more man... you sure you wanna sit back there?” His gas filled the whole room, there was no where the go... So I stayed. At the two and a half hour mark, Brendan had let out over 200 farts. At some point I stopped cringing at the smell, but Brendan got more vile at aiming his farts, pausing the game about every minute to let out a sizable rip or two. I was basically making myself a piece of furniture. A complacent fart sniffer for Brendan’s evil brew of stink. At four hours he was starting to slow down, still he passed the 400 farts mark and still continued to rip a big fart in my nose every two to five minutes. “Dude! I finished the game!” He smiled at me, and I was shocked as it’s the first time he acknowledged me as a person instead of something to fart on. “Now dude, get on your back, I’m sick of you always pretending you don’t dream of being smothered by my ass.��Brendan sat directly on my face and his farts began picking up again. “You think 450 was bad? Wait til I get you to the thousands!” Brendan is the gassiest man I know... and my favorite thing to do with him is stare into his ass as he plays his games... some times those games are on the Nintendo. Other time those games are with my psyche

[dyrewrites]

Weald and Wen -- bitey tree, do not dry

The scent grew sweeter, blooming in her nostrils memories of bleeding leaves and rushing ichor, as the melody faded.

Pulling at Ozma’s taut darkness, Faerai called to it, “Delgrij?”

Yet the creature beyond the shadow did not respond, and Faerai yanked more of Ozma’s rippling dark back. There she saw what snarled, in the corridor, with an altered face…and swollen bark.

Delgrij’s antlers scraped the ceiling and one of his once slender arms flailed, trunk-thick, to scrape at the walls. Scratching divots in the floor were too-wide hooves, much too large for the thin legs that bore them but his face remained delicate, elegant—if twisted with rage.

Not yet lost, Faerai thought, and shouted, “Can Delgrij hear us?”

Ozma stretched fuller, sealing all but a sliver of the passage.

And Faerai growled at it, “da! Delgrij need us!”

Her shadow remained vigilant and Faerai held firm to its edge, keeping her window open as a familiar creak called back.

“Little beastie!” Mitra shouted, muffled by lips and tongue—glittery rump and feet caught gleaming from a massive maw as Delgrij gnashed his teeth. “Bitey tree dried up!” She shouted again, heard clearer as branches yanked her out and slammed her against a wall.

A thin crack zigzagged down Mitra’s face and she crackled with a groan. Closing her eyes to the damage, to the irritated burn in her core, she opened wide and chomped into the branches wrapped too tight around her.

Another roar reverberated off the crystal and Delgrij threw her free to suckle his bleeding bark.

Flitting out of reach, and dodging fresh swipes, Mitra tittered, “Nots so shiny whens its yous what’s bit, is its?”

“Delgrij have ichor!” Faerai yelled above the roar, “How is dry?”

“Chip’d ifs I’s hold!” Mitra cracked and, zipping to and along Ozma’s surface, squeaked as it shifted to block her. “Din’d shadow!”

“Little light get ichor! Ask Delgrij after,” Faerai shouted, tugging her shadow further open and gesturing at Delgrij’s slingbag—taut but intact around his too-broad chest.

Groaning, Mitra returned to the raging tree, who swiped and gnashed his teeth. Tittering, she dodged and rammed into his stomach. He howled, but teetered and smashed into wall and floor alike as he scrambled for balance.

“Nots too sturdy alls cracked, is yous,” Mitra giggled higher and rammed again, sending her head into his, just below where his antlers connected to the bridge of his nose.

Delgrij wobbled, his eyes fluttering, branches darting...and missed as he fell on his back.

Keeping her giggles close, Mitra slipped into his bag. There she bit and tore and wrangled a bottle, and its cork, free.

Roaring, Delgrij struggled to his feet and swiped again, throwing bits of crystal as his branches scraped along the walls. He swayed and he growled and he swiped, but Mitra proved too quick to snatch.

Bottle between his lips, Delgrij bit, flecking his bark with bits of gorepitch...and ichor.

It dribbled onto his tongue, pouring down his throat and he gulped it deeper, collapsing with the taste—the promise—to knees and branches.

Flopping to his stomach, then his back, he roared ever-louder as every scrap of bark spasmed. Limbs flailed with the saturation of their fibers and, as they did, he shrank.

He shrank and he calmed, memory pulsing, roughly sweet until heady ichor smothered it all.

Mitra zipped to stand on his slimming chest as Faerai wrenched her way past Ozma, garnering hurt yellow eyes as it shrank to pad after.

While Delgrij groaned.

The thing within him crawled back into its cage, satiated—satisfied—and he blinked for clearer eyes.

Groaning at the pebbly face beaming with a glow too bright.

Though the cloud around his memory was thick with fading hunger, the grin cracked through her face was clear enough. Smug as it spread, it explained everything.

Delgrij’s thoughts chided, forgetting was so much simpler. How much did I break this time…what did I lose?

Mitra’s folded wings made for a fine handle as he plucked her, kicking and creaking, from his chest. Careful not to lose her, he stood and grabbed for the wall as he swayed, still hungry…still weak.

“Cracked tree!” Mitra shrieked, flailing in his grip.

And he released her, wincing at the fresh curses in words too crackled to make sense of as she flitted to the sprout.

The sprout, his thoughts came again with poisonous barbs, did I—

Infae did not give him time to consider anything he may or may not have done before flattening him against the wall with slobbering licks of his massive tongue.

Delgrij laughed, despite his worry, he laughed and pushed that tongue aside. “I am whole, I am whole,” He soothed as Infae whimpered and nuzzled his stomach. Purring hard and loud, the nuru settled beside him as other eyes stared; wide, worried eyes too bright to ignore.

“Delgrij have ichor...why dry?” Faerai asked, concern wrinkling her furry brow.

Pushing off the wall to approach, Delgrij stopped as she backed away. She fears you now, those barbs returned.

And he closed his eyes to them. “I was,” he began but truth caught and he turned his head. Still she watched, eyes too kind, too bright. Piercing so easily and he bit the lie begging to slip, to smooth her worries.

With the bitter scent of his sorrow ripe in her nostrils, Faerai swallowed the fear and closed the gap to grip his branches.

And she waited...and waited.

Not until he opened those soft pink eyes did she speak, her voice warbled by her own loss and pain, “Delgrij hurt and scared. We see, we know...but not need to run, not need to hide. We are scared too, we hurt, but we stand. Maybe, maybe we can help Delgrij stand too?”

Ichor beaded, stinging his eyes far too hot, and Delgrij fell as it dripped. With her gaze so full, so sweet, he dropped to a knee—careful not to lose her paws.

“All of my loss, all of my pain and yet here in these halls you have lost as much, if not more,” His voice cracked as more ichor fell to the splintered floor, “How...how are you not as broken as I?”

Leaning her head to his, smiling as he pressed into it, Faerai soothed, “Loved ones not lost. Through us they sing. So long as we have breath to speak and memories to hold, they live...in us.” She took hold of his chin, gently lifting it to look into his red-stained face, “And one of ours still breathes. They sing. Will Delgrij come...and face hope with us?”

--

->Weald and Wen Taglist<-

~Lemme know if you want on/off~

@sapphicwizards @fortunatetragedy @rowanmgrey-author @watermeezer ^.-

[tremendousmothergoat]

Hungry Daydream + Muffet, how careless of Muffet to let her guard down at the beach and start sunbathing, honestly Toriel should just plant her rump right down on her and smother the fight out of her before swallowing her down, the damage that spider butt would do on her beach bod be damned.

Ooh yes, that'd be wonderful... Just crush the little spider under tons of goatmom rump, feel those angry screams get swallowed up by her cheeks while six hands press and push around back there! Ordinarily, Muffet wouldn't ever be that careless, but if she ever was.. Of course, Toriel would give her a nice long time back there to squirm, while she just enjoyed the sun and tried to think of good replacement lyrics for "the itsy-bitsy spider" to finish Muffet off with. Then before she goes out into the water, she'd scoot her bikini panties aside and stuff Muffet up there for good!

Ah... The thought has Toriel grinding deeper dimples in her chair. That poor cushion is never going to not have deep dips from her ass cheeks in it.

[omnipointmuses]

Can you crush someone between your thighs, Xoco?

"Crush? Perhaps not, they are far too soft for such a task..." Xoco began as she undid the seal around her legs causing them to seemingly grow at her behest, becoming longer and more so wider until they were larger than the shortstack herself who casually slapped the towers of flab. "A bit awkward looking without my royal rump but I can at least smother someone with these~"

[nevermindtheweights]

She still has this.

It doesn’t fit.

Even if it did, you would not see the bottoms. Belly hang, blubbery hips and a lardy rump would see it all smothered and swallowed up.