#that was before I was tall enough to ride the beast

[sinkthoseshipspoll]

I actually have been sitting here thinking about Viking Fury at Kings Island all day! Actually kings island also had that smurfs boat ride too, but I think that was replaced by the scooby doo ride that’s now boo blasters at boo hill lol.

Okay someone please submit the love tunnel Garfield dark ride from Kennywood tho. That’s a boat ride for sure 😂

[beardedalcoholic]

Space Cowboys

The humans had abandoned them. After seemingly endless cycles of fighting the battle was about to be lost and the war with it, and the humans had left them to fight for themselves.

‘So much for the legendary pack-bonding of humans.’ Krillna thought to himself as he leaned around his bunker to lay down some suppressing fire on the enemy. Tungsten rods magnetically accelerated to near supersonic speed ripped into the battle field and enemies died by the dozens…but it wasn’t enough.

Seemingly endless waves of the reptilian enemies known as the Slentine seemed to crawl and slither towards their position. Fields of scales and fangs greeted him every time he looked around his barrier, looks of desperation and hopelessness looked back every time he turned away from the battle.

“You would think the humans could have at least left us the weapons before they ran like cowards!” cried out one soldier before he was cut down by enemy fire.

Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’

“Did anyone else hear that?” Krillna asked after firing another salvo of rounds towards the slowly advancing enemy. Looking at his ammo counter and seeing it was empty, Krillna threw his weapon to the ground and grabbed the ceremonial bone dagger the warriors of his people were gifted upon maturity.

Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’

Holding the blade to his chest and breathing the prayers of his youth, Krillna begged the seven skies of his homeland for the power of the mighty storm, pleaded for his spirit to be flown on the winds to his ancestors. Finding himself at the end of his prayers and ready to face the enemy head on and to fight tooth, bone and claw in the ways of his ancestors, Krillna couldn’t help but think he heard something on the wind again. Looking to the forest side of the battlefield, Krillna felt a rumbling through the pads of his clawed foot.

Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’ RAWHIIIIIDE!

With the sound of thunder and snapping trees, Krillna felt all three of his hearts stop and fall.

Gierophants, mighty horned beasts weighing several tons with great crests of hardened skin behind the skull to protect the neck and a row of spines extending the length of the spine, each one several times as tall as Krillna’s seven foot frame. Easy to anger, nearly impossible to outrun, harder to damage and often found in herds of fifty to one-hundred the gierophant was this world’s largest inhabitant, but Krillna thought he saw something on the back of the lead beast.

Humans.

Humans were riding the gierophants…a herd of what looked to be sixty or more and each one had a human standing on the snout of the creature and even more behind the crest or between the dorsal spines.

RAIN AND WIND AND WEATHER

The humans were either lashed to a spine or each other with lengths of rope and each one was firing wildly into the horde of enemies, hanging sideways from the flanks of the great beasts, weaving between the spines, crouching behind the crest and all were firing their rifles.

HELL BENT FOR LEATHER

“Sir? Am I having a substance dream or are those humans riding Gierophants into the Slentine ranks in a stampede while singing what sounds like a human battle song?” A young warrior asked in disbelief as the battle field seemed to come to a stop. The pause didn’t last long as the slentine soldiers quickly turned their weapons on the stampede of human madness and animal rage.

WISHING MY GIRL WAS BY MY SIIIDEEE!

“You are most definitely seeing this pup, the crazy humans went and did the impossible again…WARRIORS OF CANTRAXA!” Krillna called out to the stunned warriors behind him, filled with a renewed hope for victory.

“DRAW YOUR BLADES AND RELOAD YOUR WEAPONS, THE HUMANS HAVE GIVEN US THIS CHANCE AND BY THE FIRE PLAINS OF OUR HOME WORLD I WILL NOT STAND BY AND MAKE NOTHING OF IT!” Holding his blade high above his head the Pack-Master let loose the battle cry of his ancestors with such ferocity that it seemed to ring from the very heavens, turned from his comrades and ran face first into the chaos of the newly evened battle.

ALL THE THINGS IM MISSIN’

Three hardened battle packs of Cantraxa warriors, thought to be beaten down by sheer numbers and attrition, thought to be defeated and simply too stupid to understand… howled. Each and every one felt what the humans referred to as battle lust and with the feeling of fire singing in their veins each and every one reached deep into their souls and called the ancient war cries of times long past. GOOD VITTLES, LOVE AND KISSIN’

The humans sang on, swinging wildly from the sides of the Gierophants or hanging on with one hand and firing with the other, seemingly oblivious to the rounds of enemy’s fire flying past them. With every human felled the others seemed to sing louder. Krillna was in awe of these small hairless creatures as he ran towards the battle, they rode the great beasts of this world like they were born to it, they faced a horde of enemies without fear and sang their defiance in the face of death and defeat. ARE WAITING AT THE END OF MY RIIIIIIDEEEEE~

================================================

The battle was won, the slentine ranks had been broken in half by the stampede and when the front ranks turned to fire on the new threat they were drowned in an avalanche of fur and fang, bullet and bone from the Cantraxa warriors.

The humans had run over and shot down much of the enemy, the field had been churned to a bloody mud pit of broken bodies and weapons, the Gierophants were long gone by then, the humans had dismounted and returned to base.

Krillna watched in curious amazement as the humans went about their post battle chores.

Groups of humans combing the battlefield for survivors, pulling bodies from the muck and determining if they could be saved or not. Slentine and Cantraxian alike were given final honors or medical aid…mere hours before these small hairless maniacs were riding juggernauts of death into battle while singing and laughing and now, they were providing aid and respect to not only their comrades but the enemy as well.

Amazing graaaceee

A hauntingly sad and seemingly profound song floated like fog over the battle field from somewhere among the humans.

How sweet the sound

Funeral pyres and graves were dug according to cultural wishes, wounded were cared for regardless of species or alignment in the war. Bodies counted and tears were shed that day and as the last sun in the sky fell below the horizon, Krillna found himself surrounded by his warriors and humans.

Holding a strange liquid in his cup, the humans called it beer…or maybe stout?...Krillna looked to the leader of the humans as she stood upon a table laden with food and drink.

“Tonight, we celebrate our victory!” The humans cheered and the Cantraxans yipped and howled like pups.

 “Tonight, we mourn our glorious fallen!” With a silence that choked the very soul, every human raised their drink to the memory of those they had lost and drank deeply. Krillna and his warriors all mimicked the humans in their silence and honors.

 “Tonight…we honor our worthy enemies.” The commander of the humans raised her cup one last time and as one all the humans followed. Krillna could not see the reason behind the last one but was not about to comment on it while surrounded by humans.

Instruments were tuned and soon employed to their fullest extent as humans began dancing and singing, wagers were made, games were played and for a few moments Krillna could almost believe that they were simply back in his homeland celebrating the lunar convergence festival.

Spotting the human leader on the outskirts of the revelry Krillna silently approached the human as she slowly drank and watched those she had shed blood with. Stepping on a fallen can of some kind alerted the commander and as she whipped her head towards Krillna, he froze in place…the look in her eyes was not that of a celebration, but rather that of battle mad soldiers. Items within reach categorized as weapons, responses and plans ranging from peacefully violent to disturbingly chaotic flashed through her face in seconds. Her grip on the cup she held and the tensing of her muscles told Krillna that she had to stop herself from launching the cup at his face.

Raising his clawed hands in a sign of peace Krillna approached the commander slowly. As he approached the tiny human, no more than five feet tall, Krillna noticed tears leaking from her eyes in a steady stream cutting tracks through the remaining dirt and grime upon her cheeks. Hands shaking the commander raised the nearly impromptu projectile to her mouth and took a steadying sip before addressing the large warrior.

“What can I do for you Pack-Master?” Asked the commander as she turned her eyes back to the celebration before her.

“You do not celebrate victory like the others? Why do you spill tears so freely War Mother?” Krillna asked, using the honorific of the greatest female warriors of his people.

“I uh…it just takes a little time for me to wind down from battle and get into the spirit of things, eventually I’ll head out and show these youngsters how to really party but for now I will just have to deal with the aftermath of the adrenalin.” The commander said with a small shake to her voice.

“I have heard of this adrenalin, most species would simply die if exposed to it but you humans produce it naturally?” The Pack-Master asked.

“Yes, our bodies naturally produce it and well…it dissipates quicker for some and for others it sticks around longer. Battle madness, bloodlust, berserker rage and more are just different names of the same thing, active or excess adrenalin…our minds are changed and muscles freed of restraints while under its influence but afterwards we have to put the beast back in the cage and deal with the mess it made, physically, mentally and spiritually.” The commander responded with a look in her eyes that said she was looking deep into the past.

“How did you humans tame the Gierophants? It was previously thought impossible to even safely approach them never mind ride them or direct them.” Krillna asked in an attempt to steer the conversation away from the maudlin thoughts the commander seemed to be sinking into.

With an almost visible brightening of her features the commander looked up at Krillna.

“We didn’t actually tame them, we were trying to find either a good escape route to get everyone out or possibly a way to ambush the Slentine army, make them fight on two fronts as it were. We ran across the herd of Gierophants by accident and sort of came up with the plan on the spot, we figured if they started to stampede in our direction the base would be destroyed but if they went just little to the side they would hit our enemies. Jackson over there used to be what we call a ‘Cowboy’ and said if you can point a bull’s nose in one direction the body would follow, so we made some lassos and climbing rigs and well, the rest is history.” The commander finished with a small shrug and a decidedly less shaky sip of her drink.

 Krillna was almost to shocked to breath.

“You found a herd of the planet’s largest and most dangerous animal, decided to irritate them into charging you with the enemy directly behind, hoping that they would run over said enemy and while they did that you threw ropes on them so you could climb onto them and ride them…you humans are insane.” with a shake of his great furred head Krillna could only thank the seven skies that these lunatics were on their side.

With a laugh the commander tipped the last of her drink back and wrapped her hand around one of his fingers, his hand being large enough to completely encompass her own, and began to pull him towards the firelight of the bonfires, a mischievous light in her eyes and a smile that spoke of wicked delights to come on her lips.

“Oh you haven’t even begun to see the madness of humanity, come and we shall sing you songs of our people.” The commander laughed as the crowd enveloped them, music wound through the air like smoke, soldiers and warriors alike danced and spun and Krillna could only laugh as he downed the rest of his drink and threw reservations to the wind with a final thought.

‘Humans are weird, but wonderful.

[akiswife1237]

AMORALITY

When the king of curses stuns himself by falling for someone who represents everything he's not.

This will be a series! I'll try to update frequently but again, tag if you want to join the ride!

tw: smut, violence, mentions of violence, angst,

true form sukuna, this also takes place in the lovely heian era

This story will kind of go backwards LOL, it starts with Sukuna being a confused simp and then it delves more into the angst hehehe

Again, I'm not religious at all so heavily religious ppl i mean no harm or disrespect! there's no specific religion mentioned as well

The sky was adorned with an intense blue, the clouds scattered all across as they hover over the blossoming flowers that have grown beautifully over time. The warm wind blew gently over the grass and you smiled peacefully as you tended to the community garden in front of the church.

Your, church.

Due to the good deeds you had done for your village and decently populated community, the people decided to appoint you as their priest. Someone who would spread the word of their god, someone who would provide wisdom and comfort, and someone who was pure.

You thought the task too heavy at first, but afraid to let down the people who relied on you, you gave in.

Things got easier over time, and you performed just as everyone expected of you; you gave them everything they needed and more. It was the least you could do for the people who adored you so dearly. 

As you continued to tend to your garden, you halted in tilting your watering can when you felt a strong aura behind you, it was so heavy that you could feel it all throughout your body, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as you froze in place.

As you fought against this unknown feeling, you forced your self to turn around, your eyes widening when you saw an absolute beast of a man standing in front of you.

He was as tall as ever, definitely taller than 6 feet, thats for certain. His well-kept and muscular body was nearly covered in what seemed to be tattoos? You couldn't tell. But what caught your eye the most was the two pairs of arms that he had, one pair was seemingly ready to strike you as the other hands on his lower arms rested against his hips. He did little to cover himself, and you didn't fail to notice the presence of a mouth near his abdomen as well.

Craning your head upward, you were met with crimson-red eyes—no, multiple crimson-red eyes staring down at you—and the pink-haired man's face wore a slight scowl.

Despite looking like a beast and a half, you couldn't deny that, despite his unique qualities perplexing you, he was indeed handsome. 

Sukuna had been busy traveling from his fruitless missions and was as irritated as ever. Though the reward had been heavy in gold and luxuries, the requests he took on were pretty much useless and resulted in him just burning the shameless town to the ground.

He needed something else to satisfy him, and fast.

As he headed north, deep in thought, he suddenly paused, a wicked grin painting his face when he remembered just what was in the town he'd be passing through.

A church.

He had heard from passerbys that the priestess's there were absolutely divine, hopeful, and represented purity itself.

He couldn't wait to ruin them. Perhaps he'd kidnap one after the mass slaughter, if he felt generous enough.

He had nearly made it to the entrance before pausing when he saw someone outside, his wicked grin only growing wider.

Perfect, his first victim.

As he drew closer, he suddenly paused when the priestess tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He now had a full view of her face, which made him freeze once he got a good look at it. 

He felt a sudden rush in his chest, his heartbeat quickening the longer he stared. The rush he felt wasn't the normal one he had; it wasn't one of adrenaline, but one of... surprise? 

He was stunned, to say the least.

He tried to ignore this feeling and drew closer to the priestess, he had his own mission after all, but he couldn't deny the foreign feeling sitting heavy in his chest.

He was now behind you and just as he was about to strike, the priest' instincts suddenly kicked in and she turned around to meet his gaze.

He scowled when he realized he couldn't come as quietly as he hoped, oh well, he was never good at being subtle anyways.

The moment your eyes met, though, he couldn't move, he felt his world slowing down and he gulped as he stayed in place, the scowl still on his face.

Your innocent eyes batted up at him with confusion and your lips parted so perfectly that it was enough to turn his brain into mush. It didn't help that the sunlight highlighted all of your beauty perfectly.

You were unlike anything he's ever seen before, absolutely breathtaking...

...What was he here to do again?

an: that's chapter one! stay tuned for chapter two hehehe, again comment to be part of the tag if you want to be updated !!

tags: @getossluttt @busyreader17 @scarasluvvr @unknown5029 @koshii-meji @genderfluidnuggettt @sterzin

[cakexblankett]

Lap dance

Character

Larissa Weems

Rating

Red

Words

1.804

~•~

It was a chill sunday evening when you received a message from Possum.

Possum:

Wish you could be here with me, mommy is feeling very naughty tonight.

10:30 PM

You bit your lip, reading the message again and again.

You had been texting this misterious woman, who called herself Possum, for a couple of months now. It all started innocently, she found you on Tumblr and sent you a message. You remained intrigued by her, her way of texting was sweet and passionate, especially when she talked about what she liked- fashion shows and fashion in general, she could go hours telling you about it.

You stalked her account; she reposted pictures of cats, and, obviously, fashion related posts. She seemed innocent but refined. Soon enough, you found out she wasn't that innocent after all.

She started asking you personal questions, at first normal one, like what was your colour or your favourit dish, then getting more insidious, like what was your favourite position in bed or if you liked to be toped.

You didn't mind, you took a liking to her, so you replied truthfully, knowing she would do the same. And before you knew it, she started wanting you to call her mommy and even asked you if you would be willing recording you touch yourself. You declined, but not because you didn't trust her or because you were ashamed or shy about it, but you would have prefered leaving this kind of things for when you would meet in real life.

You:

Then maybed I should come over and make mommy feel good.

10:35 PM

It was time to get things in motion and see who you were talking to. You imagined she was a beautiful woman, she said she was in her forties, and you loved middle aged women, so that was surely a point in her favour- and in yours. You imagined she was a freak in bed- all those messages she sent you, about how she would have liked to try different positions with you, made you certain she was a beast in making love.

You waited for her reply, while your thoughts filled with fantasies of her touching you. You didn't even know how she looked but that didn't stop you from dreaming.

Possum:

I'll send you my location. Don't make mommy wait.

10:40 PM

You jumped off your bed and ran towards your wardrobe. You were wearing your pajama, so it was evident that you needed to change. What to wear, though, was a dilemma. You wanted something that would have caught her eye, something luxurious, sexy, but easy to be undressed from.

After a while, you opted for a tight skirt and a blouse- you left the first three buttons unbottuned. You wore a choker with the word "pet" spelled on it.

You smiled, calling a taxi and giving the driver the adress. The ride there was torture, you nimbled on your bottom lip, thinking of all the ways she would make you come undone. You were already feeling the ache, the need to feel her touch all over you.

Once arrived, you paid the taxi driver and texted Possum.

You:

I'm here.

11:19

You looked around you. The neighborhood was quiet and you could tell from the villas and expensive houses that she was rich like everybody else there.

You glanced at your phone, seeing that she read your text. You waited for a second, before the door in front of you opened and your breath itched in your throat.

Before you stood the most beautiful woman you had ever layed eyes upon. Her white hair was in an introcate updo, her plump lips were painted a sinful shade of red. Her blue eyes were watching you curiously and hungryly. She was tall, very tall and she wore a tight, beige dress, that accentuated her curves in a delicious way. You imagined she was beautiful, but she was divine, she was more than you could have ever dreamed of.

"Please, do come in."

You smiled, making your way into her house. It was huge and well decorated. She wasn't lying when she said she liked fashion. Everything was curated meyiculously, every detail added to the perfection of the interior.

"This is nice. You are nice."

She raised an eyebrow, smiling. You were so nervous, you felt your cheeks flush red.

"Am I just "nice" or do I make you feel something more... carnal?"

You gulped. You had just met her and yet you were ready feeling inebriated by her. It made you feel dizzy, like you were dreaming, but you hoped it was really real, that she wasn't just a fantasy born from your imagination.

"You make me feel everything at once."

She hummed and you had to close your eyes, the sound going straight to your core. Her voice was something otherworldly. Her english accent made her sound refined, and her voice was sweet and low, making you feel like a sailor at sea, called by a siren. You were doomed, you could have easily fell for a woman like her. Maybe you already did.

You opened your eyes at the feeling of her hand on your throat. You gasped, her fingers tracing the letters on your choker. She giggled, an exquisite sound that you wanted to hear more of.

"My little pet."

You watched her lips move whilst she said that, feeling the need to know how soft they were. Her hand closed gently around your neck, squeezing gently. You let out a moan, watching as Larissa's eyes grew darker. Then her lips clashed on yours, it was so fast you could have missed it if it wasn't that now you two were kissing, and her lips were soft as feathers, your wanted to stay like that forever.

Her tongue swept on your bottom lip, asking for entrance, and you gave it to her. Her tongue didn't have to battle with yours for dominance, because you were more than alright being the one seduced and dominated. The fact that a woman like her wanted you made your ego reach up the stars.

"Come."

She took her hand and led you up the stairs, to her bedroom. The room was spacious but almost empty. There was a huge painting on one wall depicting two women having sex. It was beautifully made, it almost looked like a photograph. There was a kingsized bed, who screamed for you to use it.

She kissed you again, more gently than before, and started unbottuning your blouse.

"If you're not feeling comfortable, tell me to stop and I will."

You shook your head, helping her undress you.

"I want this, I want you."

She gave you a quick peck on the lips before taking off your blouse. The skirt followed it on the floor. She took two steps back, glancing at you.

"Hm beautiful."

You blushed, her compliment meant the world to you. She made you sit on the side of the bed, then she slowly started taking off her dress. Her legs were long and toned, almost in contrast with her pale complexion that made her look like she made out of porcelain. When she remained in her undergarments, she sat on your lap and began moving on you, giving you a lap dance. It was funny, her, the tall and mature one, giving you, the small and young one, the lap dance. But you didn't complain.

She knew what she was doing, roaming her hands on your body, her hot breath on your ear. You clasped your hands on her butt, helping her move easily on you.

"Tell me what you need."

Her whisper made you shiver.

"Fuck me."

She stopped her motions and got off you. She kneeled and opened your legs. You moaned at the sight. She looked at you with doe eyes while she took off your panties. The fresh air hit your wet center and you whimpered. She stroked your folders with two fingers, feeling just how ready you were to be taken.

"Is this the effect mommy has on you?"

You nodded frantically, seeing her on her kneew, between your legs, made you horny like nothing else could.

"Do you want mommy to make you feel good?"

You nodded again, letting out a small moan. She was so hot, so seductive, you wondered if she was ever like this or if she learned to be.

"Say it."

"I want mommy to make me feel good."

"Hm good pet."

She licked your slit, latching on your clitoris, sucking at it and swirling her tongue around it. Waves of pleasure washed over you, you felt euphoric. She swept her tongue one last time on your bundle of nerves before entering you with two fingers. You let out a whimper, grasping the sheet under you. She curled her fingers inside you, making you see stars.

"Good girl, taking me so well."

You were a moaning mess, soon you felt the orgams wash over you. She helped you ride it, still moving gently inside you.

"Such a good pet, did mommy make you feel good?"

"You made me feel more than good."

She smirked, taking out her fingers. She put them in her mouth, looking at you straight in the eyes. She moaned, tasting you on her digits. Your pupils dilated, feeling yourself grow needy once more.

"Do you want to make mommy feel good too?"

She took off her undergarments, and positioned herself between your legs. Her clitoris touched yours, and you felt a jolt of electricity run in your veins. She started slowly moving her hips, the friction making you whimper. Your clitoris was still sensitive, but it felt good to feel her moving on top of you.

"Hm you're going to make mommy come."

She started riding you faster, her hips swaying up and down quickly. In a matter of minutes, you two were pn the edge.

"Come with me, make me hear you scream my name."

You only needed a few more movements and you both came.

"Larissa!"

She layed beside you, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead. You hugged her, feeling her warm skin touch yours. You could get used to this.

"It was awesome."

She laughed.

"You had doubts?"

You smiled, shaking your head. She cupped your cheek. You tried to take a picture of her in your mind. Her lipstick smeared, her updo slowly falling apart. She somehow looked better than before.

"If you want to, you can stay the night."

"I would love to."

You both smiled. You felt incredibly lucky to have met her, and you knew that night was the start of something far bigger and marvelous than you could have predicted.

[gallusrostromegalus]

What kind of wildlife is around in the Spirit World/Realm? The show had riding boars and river fish that I can remember, and if they grow things then the right kinds of little bees and gnats must be Around, but Just Those don't make for a full healthy environment, right?

We don't see a lot of animals in canon because animals are rarely a problem that shinigami have to deal with but some notes:

Thylacalines are not extinct in the spirit world! Actually, it's kind of a problem- Thylacalines will ONLY reincarnate as Thylacalines, and since there are none on earth, the entire peak population of them lives in the southern Rukongai. This is a problem unique to Thylacalines, as most extinct animals will reincarnate as other extant animals or humans or whatever, but nope. Not these assholes. Furthermore, killing a thylacaline in spirit world just makes it respawn elsewhere in the spirit world, as it was and with it's memory intact and those motherfuckers hold GRUDGES. They're also not native to any of the places the human souls in Soul society come from so nobody has a damn clue what they're doing here. Well, they know what they're doing- Mostly eating anything that will fit in their mouths and occasionally mauling people who don't respect their personal space- but why they're doing that HERE is unclear.

The Migratory Bird Act of Year 1066 was established shortly after the Seki-Seki stone wall and spirit barrier surrounding the Seireitei was established, and within the week, catastrophic numbers of birds died flying into the invisible barrier. The act was actually spearheaded by Yamamoto, who was immensely distraught by the unintentional carnage, and had to actually threaten the Central 46 with bodily harm to get them to legally change the Kido spell on the barrier to only block Sapient Souls and let the birds come and go as they please. It was a landmark legal case that established the soul society's remarkably robust environmental protections, and the Central 46's policy of isolation from the Shinigami, which would prove disastrously fatal to the organization almost 1,000 years later.

Many creatures we have on earth exist in Spirit world, but at massive Scale and varying degrees of intelligence. The Nago Boar was a wild boar of average porcine intelligence, but spectacular scale- 15 feet tall at the shoulder and many tons in weight. It was an infamous monster that made the Nago region borderline uninhabitable from it's rampages. It was one of the rare animals that became the problem for the Shinigami, who tried in vain to kill the beast for the better part of two centuries but unlike a Hollow who acts on instinct and has a very breakable mask, the boar was quite cunning and ended up with three zanpaktou lodged in it's cranium to no ill effect before the Gotei-13 decided to just pay the remaining farmers to leave in 1219. It was slain by a hired swordsman protecting a geological survey in 1308, and the battle was immortalized in the Epic Multi-scene Screen Painting "The Slaying of The Nago Boar" by Minami Zasso, who was working as a surveyor and illustrator when he witnessed the event firsthand. The swordsman in the painting is unnamed, but there is a persistent rumor that the distinctive facial scar of the unnamed swordsman matches that of Eleventh Division Captain Zaraki Kenpachi, but that would mean the man is at least 700, more likely over 1000 years old! Surely not!

The Eleventh Division has another peculiar association with an animal of ridiculous scale. In 1272, the annual "Ranking Day" tournament (in which the members of the 11th division and anyone bold enough to take part would battle for ranked positions in the division- including the right to be captain) took place outside the Seireitei in a relatively isolated area of the rukongai because 1271's Ranking Day had turned into an outright riot that destroyed part of the city. The commotion and blooshed attracted the attention of a supernaturally large Monitor Lizard, who joined the fray without hesitation, and devoured the 4th Kenpachi. Having met the requirements of "Defeat the standing captian in combat in front of 200 witnesses", and because nobody was brave enough to remove the captain's haori from where the lizard had become entangled in it, Tokagero Kenpachi was named the 5th captain of the 11th division. Tokagero Kenpachi remained captain of the 11th division for an astounding 234 years, the longest reign of any Kenpachi, and via highly suggestive hissing and occasionally eating people she disagreed with, lead several important reforms within the division like "Pants Required" and "No showing up to work drunk" and "instituting the first 5-day work week and successful labor strike in Soul Society" though that last one was mostly the work of her long-suffering lieutenant, but her apparent taste for strikebreakers certainly helped the cause. Tokagero Kenpachi was lost in the infamous Tonsure Riots of 1606 when she vanished down an open manhole cover and into the sewers. No body was ever recovered, and her wherabouts remain unknown to this day.

[storytellingbadger]

Sundrop gives great shoulder rides, but this is his first time having a go! Never had a friend tall and strong enough before.

Silly gift for @shirajellyfish! Thank you for being my friend.

Sundrop is from their incredible fic I see you, Sundrop! on AO3. Fell, the huge noodly beast, is mine.

Images split up below.

PS - Fell’s proportions are meant to be unnatural and bizarre. They’re a bit of a mess of a monster.

[sugar-phoenix]

Intro + Masterlist 📖🌱✒️

take two on my big intro post

Introduction

Hello! I'm sugarphoenix (you can call me sugar or phoenix) and I'm a writer and aspiring author from the US. Here's the basic rundown:

19 years old

she/her pronouns

aside from writing, I am an aspiring UX/UI designer. I hope to one day be a pioneer in the industry.

feel free to tag me in anything! I enjoy being tagged in tag games, even if I might not have the time to get around to all of them.

Genres I often write in:

fantasy/romantasy

animal elements i.e. at least one character is an animal shifter/has animalistic traits/characters are compared to animals metaphorically

finding oneself in the mess

dark fantasy/ethereal vibes

You can also find me on ao3 with the same name + here's my kofi if you ever want to tip me <3 taglist: @ashirisu

Current WIP(s)

The Blood That Bonds Us: A fantasy novel that can be succinctly summed up as Rapunzel with Red Riding Hood elements; where Rapunzel is also the Wolf, and the Prince is also Red Riding Hood.

Summary:

There is a prophecy in the kingdom of Venatoria that a Black Wolf will rise from the forest and bring destruction and a new reign to the kingdom. Because of this, generations of royals have hunted down and killed most of the Wolves that reside in the surrounding forest.

Prince Rhydian's father was no different, and he died in a hunt when Rhydian was only a child. But now Rhydian is no longer a child, and he's old enough to prove his worthiness to the crown and possibly take the kingdom back from the greedy crown regent, Alaric. Alaric, however, sets a heavy task for the prince: he must go and rescue a maiden that has been locked in a tower by a witch near a neighboring village. Many young men have tried and failed to rescue her, and the witch is ruthless. But Rhydian will do anything if it means he can reclaim his father's crown and throne.

Daciana has spent all her life in a tall tower. She is protected and held captive by the witch Dame Gothel, who found her in the forest and recognized her for what she is: the Black Wolf. Dame Gothel doesn't hold back on telling her this, and Daciana knows of her fate. She is a monster, a bringer of destruction, and one of the most hated enemies of Venatoria, who are blissfully unaware of her existence. Daciana doesn't feel like a monster, and perhaps life outside the tower isn't that bad, despite what she's been told. But although Dame Gothel has done all she can to keep Daciana within the tower, it's often ill-advised to try and fight destiny. And it will only be so long before the beast is freed from her prison.

CHARACTER TAGS: #♚ . rhydian / #✧ . daciana / #◦ . vincent

This is my main WIP, and the one I'm working the most on.

POSTED WRITING

Blood That Bonds Us Snippets -- screenshots taken directly from my scrivener that give you a little peek into the first draft

Chapter 1 snippet -- snippet of chapter 1 of the first draft

rhydian. -- short character exploration for Rhydian

mourning your captor, your only mother -- short snippet of Daciana's POV (spoilers)

Fanfictions

As of 6/22/2024, any further fanfiction will be posted on my fanfiction blog @sugarphoenixlovesfanfic !!

Fandoms that I'm in:

Honkai Star Rail

Wuthering Waves

My Hero Academia

Deponia

Honkai Star Rail Fics

the new barista -- a super short drabble about a college au in which Dan Heng is the cute barista at your college's cafe.

Death of a Cowboy -- in which I rewrite and expand upon Boothill's past.

𖥔 . overheating . 𖥔 -- Boothill overheats in your getaway vehicle.

cowboy, you have a hard time wrapping things up neatly. ✦ -- Boothill is loud and messy but he grows on you. One day he does something unexpected.

I think I'll take my noodles spicy -- You stop by Jiaoqiu's stall to try his noodles. They are very. Spicy.

My Hero Academia Fics

unfinished hawks x oc fanfic (ao3 link)

"there's this thing I want to say to you" -- short fluffy drabble about Hawks confessing his love to unnamed fem character

Deponia Fics

maudlin -- a short fluffy fic that expands a scene in Deponia Doomsday (spoilers)

All fanfiction can be found under the tag #✤.fanfics .

Short Stories / Miscellaneous

All my writing can be found under the tag #✎ . writings

drabbles in red

complete short stories in pink

Masterlist:

she was a monster (monster) -- short drabble that uses experimental writing

Flash Fiction Friday Prompt "On The Edge" -- short drabble that follows the prompt. it may or may not be somewhat connected to "she was a monster (monster)."

I wrote that one tumblr post -- i wrote a couple of one shots of that one tumblr post with a crow and a cat being familiars and trying to find their witches.

dagger queen -- exercise where I write a drabble using two prompts. dark fantasy/romantasy vibes.

un-satyr -- COMPLETE short story about a satyr who is different from the rest.

vampire x poisoned werewolf -- COMPLETE (?) short story about a vampire and a werewolf putting aside their differences (and perhaps getting a bit too close) in order to save one of them.

cherry red -- flash fiction about a girl and what she leaves behind.

my roommate is a vampire -- currently unfinished short story about a college roommate who is, well, a vampire.

Writing Challenges

2024 November 50k Words Challenge

dividers by cafekitsune!

[bonemarrowrites]

The King of the Forest

Contains: M / M, Human x Giant, Human x Monster (Eldalg/moosetaur), dubcon, cum inflation (like so much), belly bulge (like so fucking much), size difference, bondage, first person pov, trans man f’d silly

Short explicit fantasy story. Young human man wants to learn more about the secretive eldalgs, moose-like giants inhabiting the darkest forest. +5k words.

Scroll to this ╭ᑎ╮ mark to skip the story parts.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

The Eldalgen had always fascinated me. They were the last few megafaunal species that had lived during the Age of Springtide and just looking at a painting of one you could see why. In their adult size, the bulls could easily tower over three tall humans standing on each other's shoulders. They say you can feel the tremors as they walked through the ground even from afar. The Eldalg live in giant redwood forests, deep enough where the daylight barely touches the ground.

We didn’t know a lot about them. Meeting one would usually mean death, outsiders of the herds are usually stomped to death, and even members of their own species are not safe from harm. Until about a few decades ago, no one even knew they were sentient, sure their upper bodies looked slightly humanoid, with thick wooly fur and faces not too distinct from that of a moose. Still, people rarely made contact with them and as such, they were only seen as mere beasts, until it was revealed by an elven faunatologist called Vieli’feorta that the giants had had a long trading history with them.

With a book and quill, among other supplies, I knew I was the one to finally reveal the truth. It had taken almost six months to get to the giant village near the last great redwood forest. I had met a group of adventurers in the nearest city and they’d been kind enough to lend me a ride there. I had my nose deep in my books during the whole three-day trip it took to get near the village. I never bothered to learn the names of the six I was traveling with, but they seemed like a close-knit group.

“Here we are!” Yelled the human woman steering the drake’s towing the cart. “This is as far as we can take, we don’t have a good rapport with those guys,” she added and pointed at the village still far away. I could see smoke rising and something large moving in the distance. The woman gave me a smile as I jumped down from the cart with my bags.

I was glad to leave that darned cart, to be honest. The quarreling between the half-orc and the gnome almost drove me mad. Before they left, the bronze-haired human woman turned back to me and said “You know… We will be here again next week, if you need a lift, you’re welcome to join us again.”

I nodded slowly, thinking about the offer for a while, but deciding against it, I had to stay in the forest as long as I could, I had to learn everything I could so I could become one of the most revered faunatologist in the whole continent.

“Thank you, but I will find another ride,” I yelled back. We both waved goodbye and I began the slow walk through the marshy soil towards the village.

I didn’t know much about the Giants other than they were also pretty secretive. They didn’t seem to like the smaller sentient species that much and I mean, how long does it actually take to get over being enslaved for hundreds of years by every single dark lord who decides it's their turn to dull? My kind had certainly gotten over the last one.

Even though I tried to walk as carefully as I could, I stepped on the wet grass multiple times, my old leather boots soaking in the dirty water. One of the most annoying feelings had to be a wet leg inside a shoe, it was just right after getting sand in them or cutting yourself with paper. It must have taken hours to get to the edge of the village and my splashing had caught the attention of the inhabitants. With curious looks on their faces, the giant men and… the women I presumed watched me. It was a small village, filled with huts made from large boulders. The wind carried the scent of smoked ham into my nose.

My strength was spent in the marshland, I took deep breaths before introducing myself to the grey-skinned villagers.

“Uh, hello! My name is Prost Von Palipaa and I’m here to inquire about something!” I waved my hand with a friendly smile on my face.

One of them, the largest one I assumed to be the leader of the bunch walked towards me, looking annoyed by my presence.

“What you want human?” He scowled, wiping his ratty long strands of hair from his face to reveal the ugly mug beneath. The air around was brisk, but the giants wore only brittle loincloths around their waists. Like the unintelligent beasts they were, they let everything hang free. As the man got closer, I could feel the ground shake beneath each step.

“I’m here to see the eldalgen,” I replied, keeping my tone stern, “I have gold.”

“Bah! No need gold, you leave, antler heads kill you,” he stated back, stopping in his place.

“You can buy things with gold. Tools, weapons…” I paused before adding, “Clothes?”

My words clearly got through to him as I saw him raise his bushy eyebrows.

“Hrph… Come,” he said and waved me to follow him. Him being much taller than me, I had to almost run to keep up with the pace. The other villagers glared at me as I ran by, but since I got their leader's attention, I didn’t need to care what they thought about me. The Giant Chieftain led me to his dwelling place. Strange symbols covered the boulders outside, some of which the giant leading me in had also painted on his skin. The doorway was covered with surprisingly delicate scaly leather pelts, the scales glimmered in the cold light of the clouded sun. As I stepped inside, the smell of the smoke hit me by surprise, making me cough. Only a faint light shone in between the scale pelts but there was a large fireplace in the center area. The heat from the fire made the white bones strung onto the ceiling sway, clacking them together like a crude instrument. Large fur hides covered the floor and the edges of the curved room, some packed together to look like little beds.

The Giant turned to look at me, “You humans always think you can get anything with gold…” his guttural voice resonated with the blouders around us as he spoke.

“Wait, you can actually talk well?” I bluster out, surprised by his sudden elegance with the words.

“Simplicity scares your kind, we use your fears to keep you away yet here you are, trying to bribe me to betray the trust of my kin,” he said, circling the flame in the center, walking behind me.

“Your kin? You mean the Eldalg? They are not your kin,” I could feel my voice disappear, scared by the unknown before me.

“More than your kind is,” he replied curtly, “The Eldalg are outsiders to your civilized society as much as we are,” The Giant growled, putting his hand on my shoulder almost like a threat.

“You need to take me there, if you don’t want gold, I can do something else,” I found my courage or at least tried to sound like I did.

“…And what would that be?” He hissed, with a hint of curiosity hidden beneath the irritation.

“My mother used to be a bard, I can entertain you,” I shot back quickly, turning to face him. His face drew closer as he looked directly into my eyes, making me feel smaller than ever before.

“Fine,” he muttered and straightened his back, “If you can make me laugh, I will take you into the forest tomorrow.”

My eyes widened with joy, I was happy to keep my gold and get where I wanted to be.

“Okay, okay,” I said, waving my hands in excitement as I dropped my bags. The Giant Chieftain stepped back and sat on a hide to see what I could offer. I fluffed my chest and began the spectacle.

I had been on it for almost an hour and the giant did not even smirk.

My jokes? Nothing.

My songs? Barely escaped death.

My magic tricks? Almost dropped my pants while doing it.

If the marsh hadn't drained me, this show did. I was getting desperate. Re-doing my skits, but nothing worked and the giant seethed with fury.

╭ᑎ╮

“ENOUGH!” he shouted, getting up and grabbing me by my fishtail braid. “Pathetic little human!” He snarled at me and I could smell his breath. I wanted to run, but his grip was too tight.

“Please, let me try again,” I pleaded, “I can make you laugh!” The giant stared straight into my soul and huffed loudly. Fearing for my life, I let out a high-pitched cry.

Suddenly, he pulled away, looked at me and a large smirk spread over his face. Instantaneously he crouched down, grabbed me by the ankle, and lifted me high up in the air, making me wail from fear.

His eyes leered at me as he ripped my pants off, exposing my bare ass and pussy. The giant held me almost at eye level and watched me trying to wriggle myself free.

“You humans are so fragile,” he taunted me and dipped his fingers in the oil near the firepit, he began to smear the oil between my thighs, my whimpers doing nothing to make him stop. He had only four fingers in both of his hands, all as thick as sausages and rough as the stone around us. The giant slipped two fingers between my folds, making my wail even louder, which in turn made him grin even more, revealing his teeth and the black gums.

“Mewl, little human, mewl,” he commanded as if he even had to. His rough fingers pressed against my clit, sending unwanted spasms of arousal all over my body. The giant’s third finger began to poke at my other hole. The rough manhandling felt too much as the pressure within me built up, and my nipples hardened when the cold buttons on my jacket brushed against them. I tried to keep my aroused whimpers inside by biting my lips, but as soon as the giant plunged two of his fingers inside my pussy I let out a loud cry. His other hand kept me in the air as the other violated my hole. The broad fingers slipped in and out, while one was still pushing against my ass.

It didn’t take too long for it to enter me too, both of my holes now filled with his slick fingers. He thrusted into me rhythmically, making my wetness drip down, my attempts at matching his thrusts failed due to my awkward position. The giant began to laugh, watching my helpless body struggling to keep up with him.

Unable to take any more, my body began to tremble as I came, locking the giant’s fingers in. The whole village must have heard his bellowing laughter and my scream.

My mind was completely blank as he put me down on the furs, forcing me to kneel down and lifted my rear. Slowly, he pulled his fingers out and shoved the cloth covering his waist into the waistband, revealing his hard member, twice the size of his fingers. The giant hunched over me and rubbed his tip into my wetness. he entered my pussy, while pinning my limb body underneath him. I could feel the tip bulge my belly with each long thrust he made. My mind somewhat recovered, I began to whimper again, but not from the fear, his cock was full of bulbous shapes, which kept rubbing against my sore clit arousing me again.

The giant’s breathing sounded heavier as his pace quickened, ramming his long shaft against my cervix, had he been able to, I’m sure he would have passed the narrow barrier into my womb. The giant pushed my head down to furs with the hand he had just used to ravage my pussy, returning his other hand to violate my ass. His deep thrusts buried my face into the coarse furs below us. Another jolt hit my body and I was consumed by the desire, some part of me deep within hated to be used by such a low creature, but something even deeper wanted more. Suddenly he pulled his finger from my hole, slapping my cheeks hard before pulling his cock out of my pussy, only to plunge it while grunting into my ass, the sudden switch made me wail out loud, but the giant kept pommeling into me with vigor.

Relentlessly, he used me as his entertainment.

As his heavy balls smacked against my rear, I wanted to wrap my legs around his waist to give him more room to enter even deeper into my gut, but I was helplessly pinned away from him.

His bulbous cock kept pounding into me without a rest, as I gasped for air, yet still hoping for more and that was exactly what I got. My whole body convulsed again at last giving the giant’s rod enough clench to come. The vessels clasping the giants's bulbous spheres swelled and he held him deep inside as he spewed the hot seed inside my throbbing hole, not letting go until his balls were completely empty deep within. I could feel the area around his sheathed tip grow larger, making my belly bulge from his seed. The giant’s loads were thick, his balls twitched against my cheeks from the strain of each shot.

it felt like hours had passed when he finally pulled out, wiping his cock into the shredded fabric of my pants. He picked me up and sat down. My belly was jutting out so much, it was hard to wrap my arms around his. When the chief turned around, he saw two of his underlings by the doorway, already stroking their hardened cocks, pointing at me.

“I only promised to entertain one of you!” I yelled while gasping, the chief turned back to them and waved them to leave. The two left the hut letting out loud sighs, disappointed by the decision.

Even though as I sat on the ground and felt his seed gushing out of my hole, it didn’t seem to recede at all. The giant sat next to me and wiped my face with a wet cloth.

“I had no idea you human men could be so satisfying little pets,” he told me, clearly as tired as I was. His seed had finally stopped leaking, most of it still weighing me down.

“You have made me laugh and entertained me. Tomorrow I will take you with us into the forest but you must hide beneath the thicket. Don’t worry, it won’t be hard, since you’re so small, but if you get caught, we do not know you and you will die,” The giant hesitated before he added, “…But you can also stay here, we will take care of you.”

I gave him a curious look and thought about it. Right now, staying here sounded better than getting fame by writing about the eldalgen, but even though I would have loved to stay here and be the chieftain’s little pet, maybe even their shared pet, I knew it wasn’t what I really wanted.

“Thank you, but I must go. Will I sleep here for the night?” I asked as I stroked my belly, astonished about how much I’d liked the feeling of it. I never wanted to be pregnant or have children, but the feeling of being stuffed full was heavenly.

“I see…” The Giant Chieftain answered back, saddened by my decision, but respecting it anyway, “You can stay here for the night, we’ll feed you before we leave tomorrow and give you new clothing.” I nodded as the giant left his hut, leaving me alone in the room. I watched the flames dance and let the soft crackling noise lull me into deep sleep.

The coarse hands of the giant chieftain shook me awake just as I was seeing a dream about the whole village dominating me. The first thing I realized was that my belly had gone back to its normal size, leaving me feeling a bit empty.

“Come on, human. It’s time to eat,” the giant said and gave me a pair of new trousers and a washing basin. As soon as I was ready, I followed him outside, where the villagers had set a large table with a plentiful feast. I was welcomed to the table, no one gave me any angry glares as we spoke and ate together.

The giants had filled a large cart with things they had hunted and made. I was told they were trading with the eldalg and today was their monthly trade run. Before we left the village, the chieftain pulled me aside.

“I’m going to ask this once; Are you sure you want to go? By staying here by my side you will be treated like the princes in your realm, you could be happy here,” he pleaded while clasping my hands into his.

“I’d like to stay, but I have to do this,” I told him, assuring myself about my plans, “When I return, I can visit your village.” The giant chieftain did not seem to believe me and he shook his head.

“I will take you there, but I can’t protect you once we step into the forest. You won’t return,” he kissed my forehead and we re-joined the group. I was allowed to sit in the cart as we traveled. The journey was long and slow due to the marshland, but finally, I saw the ever-growing trees ahead. The edge of the forest was full of thick bushes, but as soon as we entered, the thicket got smaller, still tall enough to swallow me, but the giants had no trouble moving around. Once we were deep enough, I had to jump down from the cart and follow the giants from farther behind. The thicket concealed me, but also limited my vision. The walk into the depths of the forest took almost as long as getting there from the village, but finally, the giants stopped in a small clearing and used a booming horn to call the eldalgen to them.

Nothing.

They blew into the horn again.

Nothing.

“One more,” the chief said, and just like that, we heard thunderous clopping coming towards us. I had my quill and my book ready as I scrawled as quickly as I could what I was experiencing. Three huge creatures entered the clearing with large bags on their shoulders. One of them and the chief shook hands and the trading began.

The giants exchanged smithed goods and books with the eldalgen and they in turn gave the giants yields from the forest, magical items dug from ancient ruins, and large wood weapons made from enchanted trees. I was smitten with the view. The eldalgen were taller than the giants, barely resembling humanoid creatures seen anywhere else. The thickness of their brown fur must have been able to stop arrows and swords. The three here had to be males since all of them had huge antlers crowning their heads. The painting I had seen did no justice to the majesticity I was seeing right before my eyes.

I sneaked in closer to get a better look when it happened.

My ink bottle fell and shattered into a rock below my feet. Everyone turned to look in my direction, the most keen-eyed spotting me, getting their weapons ready, giants and eldalg alike

I didn’t bother to pick up the bags I had dropped down earlier, I spun around and began to run back to where we came from. I could hear hooves hitting the ground as they began to chase me. I tried to run to a small cliff I had seen earlier, hoping it would put some barrier between us. The dry branches of the thickets scratched my skin and made me bleed, but I kept running. I managed to reach the cliff before they caught me. I hopped onto it and dropped down, climbing between the rocks, I could hear the three stopping on the edge of the cliff, cursing me. One of them tried to throw me with his spear, but it missed. The cliff was not very tall, but now I had some distance as they had to go around it. I kept running, trying to look for a place to hide since even in my panic I knew I couldn’t outrun them.

Suddenly, the ground beneath my feet quaked and an even larger eldalg jumped in front of me. Stopping me in my place with a strange pole weapon with a dull hook on it, he pushed me to the ground and held me there. He was different from the three I had seen in the clearing, he looked much older and his fur was white, shimmering even under the shadows of the trees. His dense mane ran down his spine, all the way to the short tail. The white eldalg stomped his hooves near me, warning me to stay put. The others arrived soon enough, but when the white eldalg lifted his hand, they nodded and went back. The large creature before me watched me carefully, stomping his hooves every time I tried to move even a little.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “I mean you no harm” I lifted my arms up, trying to show them I was not afraid. The white eldalg huffed and lifted my chin with his hooked weapon. I looked at him in despair, trembling from fear.

“You’re human…” The white eldalg scoffed, “Get up or I’ll smash your brains in right here!” he demanded and I obeyed, still holding my arms up. He jabbed me with his weapon to make me turn and pushed me to walk deep into the woods. I didn’t have the courage to ask him where he was taking me or what he was going to do with me. We didn’t go past the trading clearing, I thought about the giant chief, things he had said, and how much I wished I had stayed in the village, but it was too late now, and once again I was facing the unknown.

Eventually, we arrived at the small encampment they had, they had shelters made from moss and large fallen branches, but it was certainly only a temporary camp. I saw at least ten more eldalgen, their furs came in various colors from black to brown and tan. Their ears moved forward when they saw me.

Until I saw something.

The older elven man sat in the middle of the camp, holding a book in his hands, when he saw me his eyes widened and he smiled at me gently. As we got closer I realized I knew him. He was the man who had written books about the eldalgen, at least the most known to do so. During my journey here I had read his books, hoping to be able to learn as much as he had and more.

The old man's long greying hair was in a ponytail and he wore robes which made him blend into the surrounding area. I was happy to see another humanoid, thinking maybe these beasts could be reasoned with and I could leave alive.

“Prepare him!” The white eldalg commanded the old man. He grabbed me by the shoulder agreeing to do so and led me into one of the shelters they had made.

“Oh, how glad I am to see you!” the elf exclaimed, “I’m finally going to see it!”

“See what? Can you help me to get out?” I asked, relief turning into panic.

“Oh, you don’t want to go after you see it too. I never had the chance to experience it myself, but you have the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!” when those words left his lips I knew the man was mad.

The shelter was surprisingly cozy and looked lived in. Defeated, I sat on the brach he pointed me to. The elf used a mix of herbs and pitch to balm my wounds, healing them almost instantly. The elf had collected all kinds of herbs and items and hung them into the branches inside the shelter. He also had pieces of glowing crystals around the place to light the area.

“What am I going to experience?” I whispered, afraid of what I might hear.

“You were the forest king's first human catch of the season, you get to live, but you will be his sheath, you will be proudly presented to all!” The old man sounded hysterical, his words made no sense to me.

He pushed me back outside, following me. The white eldalg grabbed me with his hook and jabbed me again, forcing me to move towards the center of the camp where the elf had been sitting. There was also a large ring made from tree branches, surrounding a raised wooden altar of sorts. I was pushed to walk in the middle, now being higher than everyone else, the white bull followed me as everyone gathered around, looking expectantly at us.

“Once again, I have the blessing of the forest as its king!” The white eldalg yelled, making his subjects clamor in joy. Then the king pushed me towards the altar.

╭ᑎ╮

“Remove your clothes and bend over,” he commanded with a booming voice.

Oh, no, I thought to myself only to feel another jab with the hook on my back. I stepped forward, wanting to stay alive and undressed. The cheering around the altar got louder as I bent over the altar. The king put down his hook and stood behind me, putting his front hooves on top of the altar next to me.

“I shall take you as my sheath,” he said and as I glanced behind I knew what he meant. His large throbbing member was being anointed by the old man. Carefully, he rubbed a mix of herbs and potions on it. It had to be almost as tall as me, flared from the tip, and large enough so I could see the hole in the front, the whole shaft standing as firmly as the king behind me.

I licked my lips as I looked at it. I had already tried what it felt like to have a giant inside, why not this? Daringly, I lifted my rear as a sign to him, and the king seemed almost confused by my sudden eagerness. He smiled at me and stepped forward. His tip touched the base of my neck and I knew I had been right, it was as long as me and thicker than my muscular arms.

The king began to smear the just-applied balm on my back with his cock, giving a forceful stroke every now and then to see my reaction. The people below us clamored at the sight when he placed his crown against my opening, slowly pushing it into my pussy, spreading my legs farther apart, and stretching me open. I moaned as he slowly filled me, his tip nearly buried past the opening. My breasts were pined between my body and the altar. It felt like the king’s member was going to split me in half even before it was halfway in. I don’t know how, but it felt like it went through me, the girth bulged my belly far greater than how the giant chieftain had been able to. My eyes rolled back when I thought I could feel the tip under my heart, knowing it wasn’t possible. The king had still length to give, when he pulled back, blocking my entrance with the flared tip. I moaned under him, grabbing his hooves and pulling his fur.

“Please, let me have it all…” I whimpered, but the king was not my servant. He stepped back as the old man came to me and began to pull straps over my body, not really binding me to anything.

“You’re doing wonderfully,” he whispered into my ear, before giving room for the king. The king lifted his hooves back on the altar and quickly impaled me deeply with his cock, making me yell in the process. As quickly as it had been done, I could feel the straps around me being tightened, and the king lifted his hooves in the air, I had been strapped under his groin. His cock was deep within me. As the king bucked his rear legs, mine moved with them, making him reach even deeper.

I was the sheath for his engorged cock.

The king stepped down from the altar and walked among his subjects, them looking at him in awe. Each step made his member pump into me and I gasped with each one. Everyone in the camp saw me and the old elf came over even to pet my enlarged belly. I panted as the king took me into the forest, constantly pumping into me. I could feel something warm beginning to spread from where his flared tip was bulging. He stopped only to thrust with his member, moaning when he came, filling me even more. After he had recovered from his first climax, he kept on walking through the forest, keeping his member deep within me.

No one else had followed us and we didn’t speak at all.

He found a fallen tree and lifted his front legs onto it, pinning me against the tree. The king began to pommel my used body in a rut, I started to feel his cum in my mouth. The creamy fluid and my body grinding against the tree made me cum, my pussy taking an even tighter hold on his cock.

The king chuckled and stepped off from the tree trunk. Walking with me again, stopping every so often to thrust and filling me with more cum. My belly was far larger than it should be, but I was still able to take more loads, my mind was now in complete ecstasy, my nerves were firing up from pleasure and my climax felt like it had no end. The king’s cum kept leaking out from both of my holes. Every step sent tingles through my whole body.

To tease me, the king walked to a clearing and galloped, hastening his thrusts, my moans kept his cock hard. I lost how much time had passed and how many times he or I had come when he finally took me back to the camp. The king was tired and the elf with the help of the other eldalgen pulled me down, holding me up because I was unable to move on my own at all. As we walked, the king’s seed poured out of my gaping hole, leaving a trail behind.

The king had his own shelter, far larger than the others and I was carried there. The king entered first and I saw the same glimmering crystals as the elf had had in his home. The place was near the altar and the floor was filled with soft branches from leaf trees. The king lay on one of them and I was placed next to him. Like with the giant chief, the king’s seed stayed for the most part still inside me. Still panting, finally coming down, I looked at the king, who brushed my hair with his hand, looking happily at me, keeping his other hand on my massive bulge.

“How long will I be your sheath?” I asked, almost falling asleep before he could answer.

“As long as you want it and can take it,” the king answered back softly, letting me finally rest. next to him.

The Eldalgen fascinated me even more after all this and I knew right then that coming here was the right thing to do.

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

Semi-Finals, Poll 1

A Mother's Curse v. Ambassador to Madness v. To Spoon Feed You Comfort

THE POLL IS AT THE BOTTOM OF THE POST! CLICK “KEEP READING”.

A Mother's Curse: (Reverse Werewolf AU)

Bilbo was becoming increasingly aware of how hungry, thirsty, and tired he was as a low growl built up at the back of his throat. Where were those pesky dwarves?

He was just about to give up and go north to the river when he heard voices coming. Several of them. Bilbo took his place crouched in the tall grass, holding completely still as he listened carefully.

“Well, this was a bust.” 

“We can’t force the hobbit to go with us.”

“Maybe Gandalf should have thought of that before telling us to meet him in the Shire!”

“At least the food was good.” 

There were several loud guffaws at that, and Bilbo felt his tail sweeping the grass behind him ever so slightly. It was the dwarves. They were just beginning to come into view, and Bilbo realized something crucial that he probably should have thought of before. They were riding ponies. Ponies didn’t particularly like him, and given the number of times he’s nearly gotten kicked by one, he could say the feeling was mutual. He would just keep his distance and hope they didn’t drop their riders because of him.

“Mahal above…Thorin!” The tall, bald dwarf hissed as he nodded in his direction.

Bilbo felt his hair stand up on the back of his neck as a growl developed at the back of his throat. He didn’t like the way he was looking at him. Thorin either didn’t see him or wasn’t about to do anything, but Bilbo didn’t like the sudden quiet from the dwarves at all.

“Kili, notch an arrow.” The same dwarf murmured.

Bilbo laid his ears flat against his head, his chest practically rumbling with the repressed need to warn the dwarves away. He wasn’t about to wait around and get shot. Just as he was about to sprint away, Thorin stepped in swinging down from his pony.

“No! Wait!” He shouted, placing himself between the dwarves and Bilbo.

Thorin turned towards Bilbo, taking a knee and holding his hand out.

“Basnahkhad. Here.” He ordered.

Bilbo’s ears folded back against his head, eyeing the bow in the young dwarf’s hand.

“Kili, put it away.” Thorin ordered, his eyes never leaving Bilbo’s own. “Basnahkhad. It’s okay. Here.”

Slowly, ears twitching and eyes watching the rest of the dwarves, Bilbo made his way to Thorin’s side. When he was close enough, Thorin reached out and scratched behind his ears which did wonders for Bilbo’s nerves as he melted into the gesture.

“This is Basnahkhad. I owe him my life.” Thorin told the dwarves, holding out the bead around Bilbo’s neck for them to see. 

“Wow! Look at how big his feet are!” The dwarf with the bow cried out as he slid out of his saddle.

“Is he tame?” The blonde young one asked as he also slid to the ground.

Bilbo backed up, the hairs standing on his neck and teeth bared as they came towards him too quickly. They stopped in their tracks at the same time Thorin got up to intercept them.

“He is not a pet!” He snapped. 

“He’s nothing more than a wild beast that would turn on us sooner or later.” The bald dwarf growled, glaring down at Bilbo.

Bilbo’s tail fell between his legs, knowing he was making a bad impression. Luckily, that’s when Gandalf decided to speak up from where he was watching the interaction curiously.

“That is no mere ‘wild beast’, Master Dwalin. He is extremely clever by people standards and understands every word you’re saying. He is also careful, courageous, light on his feet, and has a great deal more to offer than any of you know. Including himself.”

Bilbo cocked his head not quite sure what Gandalf meant by that, but appreciating the glowing recommendation. 

“Let’s see how smart he is.” The young dwarf declared. “Sit, boy! Sit!”

Bilbo snapped his jaws at him and gave him a groan. He was not a simple animal to obey demeaning tasks. Several of the dwarves laughed at that, teasing the lad for Bilbo’s lack of obedience. 

“If you want to put him to a test, then give him an actual task. See now, Oin, weren’t you just complaining about your lack of stores? Have Bil-our friend sniff it out for you.” Gandalf offered, giving Bilbo a wink.

Bilbo relaxed at Gandalf keeping his secret. He was certain none of the dwarves remembered him from last night with as little as he interacted, but he would rather they think he was a simple wolf with a higher intelligence than what he was. 

 The dwarf named Oin seemed to have a hearing impairment judging by the horn he kept next to his head, but he called Bilbo over anyways. Letting him sniff the herbs he was looking for. Once Bilbo got a good whiff, he knew exactly where to find them. Down by the Marish, out aways from the riverbank. He shook out his coat, before looking at Gandalf. The wizard had a wide grin on his face. 

“He’s got it now. He’ll meet back with us as soon as he has what Oin needs. In the meantime, I believe we can press on.”

Bilbo trotted over to Thorin, purposefully pushing into his hand before leaving the path. He wasn’t gone more than twenty steps before he heard one of the dwarves shout out.

“Twenty says we will never see him again.” 

“Forty!” Several responded at once.

Bilbo huffed. Well, he would just have to prove them all wrong now wouldn’t he? He went southeast towards the Woody End. It would give him good cover until he could get to the Brandywine. There was a spot where it was just slow enough for him to swim across south of Rushy, and then it would just be a matter of crossing the Old Forest to get back to the East Road and find the dwarves.  The trees of the Old Forest didn’t seem to mind him that much, but he wasn’t sure if that was because he was a wolf or because he was a werewolf.

Ambassador to Madness: (Arranged Marriage AU)

Ori nodded eagerly. 

“After that, I showed him to the nearest inn and expected that would be the last I saw of him. So it was rather surprising to me when I found him in the markets the next day, asking after me.”

“Aww, I bet it’s because you’re Ones.” Ori sighed.

“Right, because we’re…hold on.” 

It suddenly pricked at Bilbo’s senses that he’s heard this term before. In fact, he’s heard it from Thorin a couple of times and always in the presence of his grandfather. He thought it was some sort of endearment, but Ori made it sound like something else. Could he ask though? Would that make sense if he didn’t know what that was? He sat there staring for so long that Ori almost seemed hesitant when he interrupted Bilbo’s thoughts.

“Your Highness? You were saying?”

“Sweet William.” Bilbo finally mumbled.

“I’m sorry.”

“Thorin, he brought me Sweet William for the flower that represents me.”

“Oh!” Ori grinned. “And what does that mean?”

“Gallantry.” Bilbo answered automatically. “Which is actually the Baggins’ family flower.”

“Each family has their own flower?” Ori questioned.

Bilbo nodded. “It reminds us of our roots. Baggins are meant to be perfect gentle hobbits in every way.”

“That’s nice.” Ori hummed. “So what was his next flower?”

Bilbo’s wits had returned to him as he explained that Thorin then brought him holly to show Thorin was willing to defend him and provide domestic happiness. And then their joint flower was forget-me-nots. So that way even when Thorin left to go back to Erebor, they would not forget each other. They were all flowers Bilbo had daydreamed many times in his youth with the exception of forget-me-nots which he knew would be the best flower for their fabricated story. But now he couldn’t help but wonder. What flowers would Thorin give him if he knew of such things? Would it be much like the gems? Impersonal and obvious? Or would his romantic side show through more?

“Thank you for indulging me, Your Highness. I love a good love story.” Ori hummed happily.

Bilbo gave him a wry grin. “I’m the same way. Remind me to lend you a copy of my favorite book.”

“I would be honored!” Ori exclaimed. “Now, let’s talk about dwarven courting.”

It was very straightforward if Bilbo were being honest. Dwarves also did gifts in three: a gift to Provide, a gift to Protect, and a gift to Cherish. They could be given in any order, but it was a back and forth interaction. So Thorin would give a gift and then Bilbo and then Thorin until they reached their final gifts.

“Those gifts will be given at the same time, usually in front of others. Most dwarves choose their family and friends, but for Prince Thorin, it will probably have to be in front of the entire kingdom. After all, he has to prove himself a good suitor to his people.”

Bilbo felt stopped short. In front of the kingdom? This wasn’t just a private thing then? Oh, what was Thorin thinking? There was no way they could sell this and maintain that they were already a loving married couple. Bilbo was going to have to talk with him later. Tell him that while a sweet idea, it just wasn’t feasible. He listened to Ori give him some ideas on what constituted for each gift, citing texts about couples long dead. It really was charming how knowledgeable Ori was, but before long he had to say goodbye to him. He had a husband to talk to.

Bilbo meandered back to their suite, nodding at the guards in the hallway who grinned back at him. Bilbo felt like he really won them over when he shared his Meema’s Famous Butter Biscuits with them. Thorin swore all the dwarves who served in his wing were completely trustworthy, but it never hurt to ‘butter them up’ just in case. When he walked in, he was greeted by a strange sight. Thorin was lounging on the settee, booted feet kicked up over the arm, reading from a book. Although, it wasn’t just any book. Bilbo crossed his arms with a smirk.

“I thought we were against books with Elvish titles.” 

Thorin immediately jumped to his feet, the book hanging down at his side and slightly behind him.

“Oh, yeah. I got…curious. And you never said it was a romance.” He accused.

“I seem to remember not being allowed the chance.” Bilbo smirked. 

“Yes, well…” Thorin coughed. “I perhaps reacted rashly.

“Perhaps.” Bilbo teased. “But that’s all behind us now. Let’s circle back to romances. That’s your type?”

If anything the flushed look and fidgeting by the dwarf made the whole scene even more endearing. 

“Your mother’s name is in the dedication.” Thorin quickly changed the subject. 

Bilbo allowed it as his fingers ghosted over the section fondly. “Yes, she helped the author understand flower language for the story.”

“That’s like our gem language, right?” Thorin asked.

Bilbo nodded.

“Would you translate this part for me then?”

Bilbo’s heart was beating wildly in his chest especially when he could probably guess what part Thorin was at. Sure enough, as soon as the book was passed over to Bilbo, he saw that Thilion had just given the longing bouquet to Linnadis even though she had told him she was accepting Míriedir’s proposal to court. Thorin leaned over Bilbo’s shoulder so he could see the words as well, and as his breath tickled his neck, Bilbo thought he was going to combust.

“A-ah, yes. So the pink camellia means “longing for you”. The edelweiss is “courage in one’s devotion”, and the red salvia…”

Bilbo trailed off as he looked up into Thorin’s uncomfortably close face. Unable to pull away from the encouraging blue of his eyes and wistful smile across his face.

“Forever mine.” Bilbo ended up near whispering.

Thorin hummed in sympathy, but did not pull away or take the book back. He merely continued to stare at Bilbo the same way. 

“In gems, we would have used Ruby, Amethyst, and Diamond for such a message. Although it’s not an exact translation. Ruby is strengthening the decision making in passionate displays. Amethyst is about clearing one’s mind, but also being courageous in relationships. And then Diamond is practically indestructible so it’s a symbol of eternal love. Then there’s the matter of where you would place it. Possibly in a bracelet because our hands are our greatest gift from Mahal.”

To Spoon Feed You Comfort: (Accidental Marriage AU)

“Thorin…I’m afraid I must confess something to you…” 

Bilbo’s eyes went down to their feet as he started to fiddle in place.

“The thing is…”

Bilbo never got to finish his sentence before a pair of lips was pressing against his own. Bilbo felt like a fire had been lit deep inside him, setting his every nerve off like Gandalf’s fireworks. He couldn’t even begin to form a coherent thought.

“Yes.” Thorin stated, finally pulling back.

“Yes?” Bilbo repeated, dumbfounded.

“Yes, I will lay with you.”

Oh Green Lady, take him now. It was all so much so quickly. Here he was thinking the best he could hope for was an amenable relationship with his husband, but he actually wanted to lay with Bilbo? It was too soon, wasn’t it? And how did Thorin know that they were married?!

“I’ve seen the way you’ve watched me.” Thorin growled as he latched down on the underside of Bilbo’s ear making him gasp. “I wouldn’t normally do this, but I’ve had some interest in you too. And it’ll make it easier to get this out of the way now while we have the time and some privacy.”

So this was just a fuck then? It was hard to be disappointed when Thorin’s large hands were gripping him so, but Bilbo knew he needed to squash this now. At least Thorin needed to know the truth before he had his way with him. Bilbo pulled back, looking deep in Thorin’s darkening eyes, his throat bobbing at such a delicious look aimed at him.

“So here or in your room?” Bilbo murmured.

A smirk spread across Thorin’s face and the sheer desire pooling in his eyes managed to temporarily smother any doubt or self-loathing Bilbo felt at not telling him. 

“My room.” Thorin declared as he tugged Bilbo along.

***

Bilbo felt dirty and vile as he trudged along after the dwarves. His one chance to say something, and he blew it. Any chance at catching Thorin alone now was shot as the dwarf kept his distance, almost as if he were afraid Bilbo would want more from him now. Maybe that should have been a sign. 

“So you did it then?” Bofur questioned, siding up next to him.

“P-Pardon?” Bilbo spluttered.

Bofur’s eyebrows furrowed together, but his good humor kept as he continued to needle him. “You and Thorin?”

Bilbo knew his face was exploding in color as heat filled his cheeks so quickly he was becoming light-headed.

“Ummm…”

“Your talk?” Bofur pressed.

“OH! YES!” Bilbo exclaimed only to begin laughing nervously as several dwarves turned to stare at him for his outburst.

“That bad then.” Bofur hummed apologetically.

“Yes. I mean no! It was fine. Um, I think we understand each other better now.”

“That a way!” Bofur cheered. “That’s a good step forward. Now if we can just get you guys comfortable around each other. That’ll be good for the company I reckon.”

Comfortable. Interesting word choice. Bilbo would love to be ‘comfortable’ around his husband, but if he’d learned anything from the night before, Thorin didn’t do comfort. Perhaps this would just be a secret he would carry to his grave. With as quickly as Thorin left him last night, Bilbo could see any dream for a happy marriage was just a greener garden out of reach. 

He let himself fall back into routine where he stuck with Bofur and Bombur and occasionally Nori and would only watch Thorin from afar. He just wished Thorin would have thought to agree to the same terms. Instead, Thorin was harsh and critical. Everything he did was wrong, and everywhere he was happened to be in Thorin’s way. It was starting to become noticeable as several of the dwarves would whisper to him afterwards asking what he did to piss off their esteemed leader. Bilbo didn’t think Thorin would appreciate it if he answered with ‘bed him’. 

By the time Bilbo had reached his limits was exactly the time the decision was taken out of his hands by a storm in the mountains. Although, it wasn’t just any storm. It was a thunder battle. Bilbo lay there, exhausted and heaving after Thorin pulled him from the long drop down the mountainside. 

“I thought we had lost our burglar.” Dwalin sighed in relief.

Before Bilbo could step in to assure him, Thorin spat his words with a venomous look.

“He’s been lost ever since he left his home. He should not have come. He has no place among us.”

Bilbo reeled back like he had been slapped. If Thorin noticed, he gave no indication as he turned quickly, giving the order for them to find shelter. Bofur helped him up, trying to reassure him, but Bilbo felt numb. If he had no place among them, what was he doing here? His own husband didn’t want him! Rivendell had clearly just been Thorin scratching an itch, and now he was sick of him. Bilbo felt like he should despair, instead he just got agitated.

He waited until they were safely tucked away in the cave and most of the company was asleep, before he stomped his way over to their esteemed leader. Bilbo shook his shoulder.

“We have to talk.” He hissed.

“I have nothing left to say.” Thorin growled, purposefully not looking at him.

Bilbo spun him around. “Then you will listen!” 

Thorin grabbed him by his jacket collar and pulled him down so that Bilbo was practically bent over him as they were nose to nose.

“Don’t get familiar, Halfling.” Thorin growled. “I warned you that night.”

“Before or after you fucked me?”

Thorin shook him a bit as he looked around making sure no one heard. That hurt a bit. That Thorin was so ashamed of what they did. 

“I’ve done everything for you.” Bilbo stated calmly even as he felt like throwing up. “I’ve left home for you. I’ve faced dangers for you!”

“Why?” Thorin demanded, aggravation seeping through his tone. “I never asked you to!”

“Because you’re my husband!”

[writingforfishes]

Hicvember: Halloween

CW:

long lasting hiccups

loud and fast hiccups

dorky halloween costumes

some very light mention of weight-related bullying (margie punched them)

hiccups from getting scared

dorky halloween costumes

mark living out a childhood he never really experienced

mark being a brat

otto and atticus are grumpy guses

corn mazes are sort of miserable, you all

last half of this story was written after work and might seem rushed

writer cares too much about the quality of their kink fic

It was the weekend before Halloween. Otto and Atticus are getting ready to go out for the evening with Mark and friends.

“You really want to go to this corn maze?” Otto asked as he flipped off lights and patted his pockets to make sure he had everything with him.

Otto was dressed as a wolf. It wasn’t an intricate costume, but it was enough to imply wolfness without a mask covering his face. He had ears, makeup, claws, and some canine chompers molded on his teeth. He even had a little tail Atticus had delighted in applying (and playing with).

Atticus said they would fight any furry who tried to steal him away as he was looking mighty fine dancing between the realm of beast and man. Atticus prided themselves on having furry tendencies, but not fully identifying with the label.

“I mean, whoever DIDN’T find fox Robin Hood and fox Maid Marian sexy in the Disney cartoon is high-key lying to themselves!” they’d claimed

But back to the present, Atticus was swinging their plastic ax lazily from their hand with a shrug.

“No man. I hate corn mazes,” they admitted. “It’s cold and dark and I can’t see worth shit. People with chainsaws running around and jump scares? Not a fan.”

“BUT,” they continued said when Otto started to comment, “this time I’ll be with my husband who is very tall and protective and is not a bunch of teenagers who don’t notice that their shortest friend has gotten lost, has a headache, and just wants to go home.”

Otto squinted, “So...do we need to unpack that oooor…?”

“No time to unpack, Mark’s here!” Atty blurted showing Otto the text.

Otto looked down at his spouse. Atticus was dressed as the Huntsman. They had on a red checked flannel (on top of long johns), had let their scruff grow out as much as possible (supplementing with makeup when it wasn’t visible enough for them), had on boots, jeans, and wore a beanie.

The couple’s story was the Huntsman, who saves Little Red Riding Hood, hunted the Big Bad Wolf but fell in love with him instead. Although, Atticus had fully enjoyed bonking Otto on the head with the little plastic ax when it was first purchased.

They both stepped outside on the front porch. Otto locked the door and put his hands in his pockets for warmth while scanning for Mark’s car.

“Must not have...gotten here yet,” Otto said, still squinting past the light from the porch.

Mark was the reason they were going to this blasted corn maze in the first place. Mark had never been to a corn maze. He’d gone earlier in the week during daytime with his and Alice’s kids. Entranced with the idea, Mark wanted to experience the night version. He’d invited Otto, Atticus, Margie, Cindy, and a couple of other people. Mark was also their ride. The minivan he’d regretfully had to purchase came in handy sometimes.

But as Otto scanned the streets, he saw no signs of him. There weren’t any headlights in the distance, either.

“C’mon, man, I’m freezing my tail off out here!” Otto muttered.

“You are wearing just a white Henley, dude,” Atticus pointed out, still swinging their toy ax from their hands, which were swaddled in thick fingerless gloves.

“Yeah, I thought a jacket would over-complicate the costu—AAAH!”

Otto screamed in chorus with a yelp from Atticus as Mark jumped at them from a dark shadow beside the porch, soundlessly appearing from seemingly thing air. The detective cackled as Otto clutched his chest while his other arm had swung in front of Atticus. Atticus’ arm had, in turn, swung in front of Otto’s arm brandishing the ax, but they’d also clutched his bicep with their other hand.

“Jesus! Shit!” Otto exclaimed. He took a gulp of breath.

“What the fuck, man?!” Atticus yelled.

Mark was dressed as the Grimm Reaper, minus scythe at the moment. His cheeky grin beamed from the shadows of his hood.

“Oh my gawd, that was so good! You guys! Ha! You shoulda seen your faces! That’s just a taste of what’s gonna happen at the corn maze. Just warming you up. What? I mean… That was good...” he said, starting enthusiastically but trailing off when he met Atticus’ unamused face.

“Why did we agree to this?” Atticus asked rhetorically.

“Because HU’kuk!-we wanted to hmk!-to be good fr-eck!-friends?” Otto asked, rubbing his chest with a frown. “Shit. I just hulmp!-just got rid of th-himp!-ese!”

He sure had. Atticus had been very involved in “getting rid” of his hiccups. But now they rubbed his back consolingly.

“Did I seriously just scare you into a case of hiccups?” Mark asked, his amusement increasing tenfold.

Otto glared at him, the dark makeup around his eyes making him look even angrier and more threatening than his pronounced brow usually emphasized. But the sounds and bobs of his head really didn’t sell the threat, ultimately.

“Awe, c’mon guys! You look great! You’re gonna have fun. I’ve already got Margie and Cindy with me down the street in the van,” Mark implored.

“I’m ge-hip!-getting my jack—et,” Otto groused, unlocking the door.

“So...did you play this trick on Margie and Cindy?” Atticus asked while Otto was reaching for his coat and closing the door behind him.

“Are you kidding?” Mark said. “Those two would’ve mauled me. I know my limits.”

As Atticus and Otto followed Mark down the street to where he’d hidden the minivan Atticus turned to Otto, who was still hiccuping.

“You think we should be offended by that?” they asked.

Otto shrugged, delving his hands, donned in claws and artificial fur, into the deep pockets of his coat.

“He’s not wro-HOMP!-uh, wrong,” he admitted.

“I did try to swing a plastic ax at him…” Atticus said with a wince.

Otto chuckled, head ducking in another hiccup.

“You gonna be okay with...those?” Atty asked.

“Yeah th—they’re not too ba—ad, HMP!” Otto said with a smile.

As it ended up, Otto’s hiccups were actually very helpful when both he and Atticus got quite lost as they trailed behind Mark, Margie, and Cindy who were all hellbent on escaping the maze the quickest.

Margie’s Kermit The Frog as Sonny Bono costume to Cindy’s Miss Piggy as Cher costume were inspired on a level Otto and Atticus both privately knew they could never attain. They both loved Halloween and dressing up, but who could ever hope to top the lesbians of the group in ingenuity, honestly?

At the fifth time they ran into the same chainsaw guy Otto sighed heavily.

“Du-HUCK’UK!-uude!” Otto exclaimed angrily. His hiccups had gotten worse as his startle reflex had been triggered for the umpteenth time.

“Man,” the teenager behind the mask said as he hoisted his chainsaw a little, his arms probably getting tired from running it so often, “you guys kind of suck at this.”

Otto barely held Atticus back by their collar as they yelled and charged at him with their ax in the air threateningly. Despite the size difference between Atty and teenager and the fact that the teen’s weapon was way more potentially dangerous than the plastic prop, the teen stumbled back nervously.

“Guys!” Mark’s voice yelled from a distance. “This way! We already made it to the end and gotten hot cider!”

“How HUCK! How’d y-HUCK’M!HILK!-you find us HNGK!?” Otto asked.

“Seriously?” Atticus asked, deadpanned.

Even though Otto’s hiccups weren’t hard or deep, they had been steadily increasing in loudness. At this point it would’ve been a wonder if the whole maze wasn’t aware of their location.

“Are you kidding?” Mark responded, voice coming closer as his cloaked form became more visible. “Your hiccups are like a homing beacon. C’mon. You guys look...um...let’s just get you some hot apple cider, huh?”

Could Mark see the murder in Atticus’ eyes? Was the tired face of Otto making his natural born features and wolf makeup look even more feral than usual? Or was it his detective ability to innate a person’s well-being from posture and micro expressions that made Mark change his jovial nature to one of subduing his friends with gentleness, instead? Regardless, Mark patiently led the couple to the shed and the sweet smell of hot cider filled their noses as Otto suppressed his hiccups in the closer company of strangers who were also cold, exhausted, and just finding their way to the exit at last.

Otto's body jerked as his hiccups thrummed through him while they waited in line for the cider. They were audible even while he closed his lips tightly to them, croaking in his throat. He had flashes of annoyance and winces effort it took to hold them in come across his face which Atty could see even under the makeup.

So, Atticus continued to offer comfort any way they could by rubbing his back and hugging him close. Did it also service them to feel every movement his hiccups made? Perhaps a little. Otto was at least cognizant of the dual meaning to the gestures as he took them under his arm so they could get nearer to his body for both warmth and other reasons.

“This is probably HMMK!-probably gonn—na make them woERMK!-worse,” Otto admitted to Atticus as he held the paper cup between his hands, “but I’m sHMP!-uh, so cold. And th—this smells HMPK’UH-so good.”

Atticus smiled at him as he rubbed his back in response. He’d been a trouper with his hiccups continuing the entire way to and within the maze. He’d lost them for a few minutes before they entered the maze but at the first scare, they were back, much to the amused delight of everyone else.

When the couple got the picnic table everyone else was sitting, they withstood the teasing of their combined ineptness at navigating a children’s corn maze and concern at Otto’s sped up hiccups as he sipped the hot spiced cider.

“It’s HUP!-the ci—der HMK!MP! ma—making thIMP!them wor—rse. HIMK! I’m just so—so col—ld I dMK!don’t ev—even caHMP!re! It’s HIP’K!-uh, re—really goUMP!good, too!” he explained.

Atticus had casually leaned their arm against his belly and reveled in feeling the soft warm jostling of his belly under his jacket.

“Jeez, man!” Mark said and rubbed his friends back. “Breathe!”

Otto rolled his eyes and shook his head. He wanted to retort something, but it just wasn’t worth the effort.

“Did you all like the corn maze at all?” Margie asked, question pointed at Atticus due to Otto’s temporary hiccup-induced non-verbality. The Bono wig and Kermit mask were removed.

Cindy, however, somehow still managed to look flawless in her long black wig, prosthetic latex pig nose, and perfect makeup.

Atticus shrugged, feigning casualness.

“There were some highlights,” they said. “I scared the shit out of that teenager with the chainsaw.”

Atty specifically didn’t say, ‘I got to watch and hear my husband with an amazing case of hiccups while he was donning fuzzy ears and a cute little tail.’

“He was a brat,” Cindy confirmed. “Margie punched him.”

“In the arm…” Margie said sheepishly. “He oinked at her…”

“I am dressed up as a pig, sweetie,” Cindy said, smartly. She’d heard worse about her weight and identity in her life. But she was touched to have a partner who stood up for her so strongly despite.

“Well I was dressed up as a frog and he didn’t ribbit at me!” Margie insisted.

“Fair point,” Mark said. “It’s technically against the rules to touch the performers but...he was an ass.”

When the conversation died down and the ciders were finished, they all made their way back to the van. Otto and Atticus almost fell asleep on the way back from the maze as they lounged in the back bench seat behind where Cindy and Margie were holding hands in front of them in the seats behind Mark driving and the passenger seat which had been relegated to holding all of their costume accessories. If it wasn’t for Otto’s persistent hiccuping the couple might have taken an actual nap.

When they were dropped off, Otto’s hiccups had finally slowed a little in signs of the case ending naturally. They both shed their costumes, showered, and convened in bed, Atticus snuggled against their husband to soak up the last of his hiccups. He was doing that thing where he grunted after each one and Atty wondered if he did it on purpose since they’d informed him they found it hot, or if the hiccups had gotten to the point where they warranted the grievance after such a long case.

“Happy mk! Halloween,” he murmured. “Glad I co—could give you a treat. Hmrk!-uh.”

“Hope they stop so you can sleep,�� Atticus said.

“They wiHUH!-uh, they will,” he said.

“Kinda miss the ears…” Atty admitted after a moment. They’d been massaging Otto’s chest and stomach as they cuddled. They felt his laughter now softly thumping in his chest between another soft hiccup.

“Hm. Kinda miss the hu-uck!-uh,the ax!” he said grinning.

“Hm. I’ll...have to remember that!” they said.

Otto laughed before he sighed at the work Atticus’ hand was doing to loosen his muscles.

Eventually they were both asleep as Otto’s hiccups gave up the ghost, so to say. In the morning, they vowed to never go to a corn maze ever again. But Otto did make a special trip out to pick up some spiced apple cider.

[freeflowhighway]

Howdy.

You like fanfiction? You like Dragon Ball? Why don'tcha check this preview out. I think you'll like it.

When you're done and want more? Check out the link at the end, thanks pookie. You're the best.

Konohagakure, the Hidden Leaf Village, was under attack. The Kyūbi: Nine-Tailed Fox, appeared over a full moon night to bring terror and destruction to all within the village. A creature of such might and power that one swing of its tail could flatten a mountain to the base, would be met with an equal in the Fourth Hokage. Riding the Great Toad Gamabunta, the Yellow Flash defended his land with his life, meeting the King of Demons in the outskirts of his homeland.

However, something went awry.

A third party, a beast never seen, would unleash untold mayhem. It did the impossible, not just forcing back Gamabunta and his Shinobi God companion, but it focused its hatred entirely onto the Nine-Tailed Fox. A gigantic ape tall as Hokage Rock and nearly as broad, thick arms and legs of bulging muscles barely hidden by its black fur, and a monkey's tail that whips hurricane winds with every swing. This new Bijū of only one tail fought with its fellow demon, their devastating forces clashing against one another so fiercely that the very ground beneath them surrounding all Konohagakure shook, creating craters and canyons in the dense forests. The clouds above thickened greatly before terrible winds cleared the sky.

Though even in destructive power, the Great Ape proved superior in durability, barely struggling against the most powerful of the Bijū's wrath. Its tails bounce off of the Great Ape's body, claws and fangs draw blood yet only go skin deep, even the Bijū Bomb is matched by the shaft of light flying from the Great Ape's maw. Through sheer endurance, the Great Ape outlasted and damaged the Nine-Tailed Fox enough that the Fourth Hokage was able to seal it in one fell swoop. However, the Great Ape itself was nigh unstoppable. Without an opponent to distract it from the village itself, hope seemed lost as countless lives were taken away, shinobi of every clan work together to even stall the unstoppable beast.

The Hyūga Clan, renowned for their kekkai genkai: the Byakugan, were rendered useless. Their dōjutsu being the All-Seeing Eye are blinded by the sheer intensity of the Great Ape's aura. Those not fast enough to undo their ability in time suffered from sensory overload.

The Inazuka Clan, shinobi with close ties to beasts as well as mankind's connection to their primal roots, are stunned frozen by their nature. Not all, but many suffer a paralyzing fear that prey suffers from when in the gaze of a predator, especially one never before seen.

The Aburame Clan, infamous yet humble for their compact with insects, creatures often underestimated despite their uncontested control over the world. Without them, nature would not function, and in turn they could rule the world should they act as mankind has, yet even their unorthodox methods and bizarre abilities are naught but worthless before the otherworldly might of the Great Ape.

Even the greatest strategists within the Nara Clan, the gigantic might of the Akimichi Clan, nor even the mind-altering phantasmic power of the Yamanaka Clan could falter the beast. It would force its way through the traps, break the towering giants that stood in its way, and none could manipulate a mind so forcefully set on its singular goal of destruction.

Finally, the Uchiha Clan act as the last line of defense. Though all suffered, it is through the efforts of the noble Uchiha Clan that many civilians are spared, at the cost of many of their own. The Sharingan was ineffective against the beast itself, but absolutely necessary in their impeccable defense and evasion, distracting the Great Ape for as long as they could until the Fourth Hokage could face it personally at last.

Konohagakure was fated to fall until the coming dawn. By chance or by fate, the two deities fought long enough for the moon fall low and sunlight broke across the sky, which upon that most desperate hour would mark the end of disaster. The Great Ape vanished without a trace...

But not without taking one last cruel victory.

With the weight of the world and even that from beyond now off of his shoulders, the Fourth Hokage succumbed to his wounds in the tireless battle and being as young as he was left behind no candidate nor heir to his title. With little choice, Hiruzen Sarutobi would return from his retirement, taking on the mantle as Third Hokage once more. Though an ultimately tragic event, hope remains within the hearts of Konohagakure.

Peace has returned.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49701808/chapters/125855470

[justinewt]

Infortunatus Eventus Seriem - THOSE ABOUT TO DIE REWRITE Chapter One

[THOSE ABOUT TO DIE MASTERLIST]

Next Chapter

Summary: Aldea had everything she wanted and needed in her homeland of Baetica, in the south of Hispania. She never fantasized about other places, until she met this young roman sailor who got her dreaming of Rome. She never thought she would ever be leaving her family, and certainly not in the way that she did and in the series of unfortunate events that ensued, she was lucky enough to found the one person in Rome who she wouldn't suffer at the hand of.

Words: 4k

Warnings: title inspired by "a series of unfortunate events" which is the title's translation lol // Those about to die (no spoilers yet), 1st person (somewhat unreliable narrator - doesn't mean that she lies about the events, just that it's her recollection/perception of them), slavery, broken bones, mention of abduction and captivity, mention of sexual assault

The year, 75 CE. The place, Rome.

I started dreaming of seeing this city for myself about a year ago, but I didn’t think the fates would play such a cruel trick on me. I had everything. A modest but rich life, richer than the lives of most high-borns. My mother died giving birth to my younger brother, but my father was good, and we lived with our grandfather too, and I had three brothers who were – are – my best friends. Andria, the oldest, was the spitting image of our father both in appearance and spirit, and my brother, Fonsoa, just a couple years older, was kind-hearted. And the youngest, born 4 years after me. My sweet baby brother, Elia, whom I nurtured as a mother and cared for with Fonsoa. I believe he looked up to me, like his big sister but like a mother too, all while it fell to Fonsoa and I to raise him as our older brother was always off with the horses. We lived in the rocky hills of Baetica, in the south of Hispania. We had horses – Andalusians. I loved those beasts. I loved to ride bareback, clinging to their manes, muscles contracted, and thighs pressed against their sides, my own mane flying behind me, waving in the wind like the tall grass in which I loved to lie die and watch the sky, often lying down at the top of a hill and letting my body roll to the bottom with Elia. I would always hit a couple of stones on the way and get bruises all over my arms and legs, but I couldn’t have cared less about it. I loved the freedom of such a life, but I had no idea this was freedom. It was just my life. I had never known anything else. And I wish it had stayed that way. We often rode our horses to Portus Magnus, the Great Harbor. To sell meat or things that we grew. Over time, I began to wander by the port, looking at the boats moored at the docks, and I noticed this great ship, bigger than all the others. I asked around, curious to know whose ship this was, as I looked over my shoulder at the Roman soldiers walking by, stumping the grounds all at the same time.

“Es el barco de un romano – un rico comerciante de Roma.” The old fishmonger had told me. The boat, that of a rich roman merchant, from the great city of Rome. I didn’t know why, but I began to think about it. About this roman ship, and this city. I had never lacked anything, never dreamed of elsewhere, and yet, I thought about Rome. I began to dream of it, wanting to see it for myself, with my own eyes. I remember that day, this young sailor, his blond hair shining in the sun and the creases around his eyes as he smiled at me. He told me his name – Aelius – and greeted me in Spanish, uncertain and shy, but our conversations were mostly silence. I understood latin but had a long way to go before being able to speak it fluently. Eventually, I got there. I was always a quick learner, smart. Now I can speak it, but not then. He took a liking in me, and I did too. I returned to Portus Magnus a couple other times this same week and went to see him everytime. He had told me they were leaving by the end of the week, but that the man he worked with often had business in Hispania, so they would return. 19-year-old me promised herself that she would be able to speak better Latin and by the time I saw him again, and I did, a year later, 75 CE, when I would finally see this city, I dreamed of and I won’t ever be sure why, but I kept these meetings a secret and hid them from my brothers. I could have told them – I should have told them. They could have found me sooner and brought me home. But that didn’t happen. I was a fool.

“Aldea!” He called out my name as I was jogging back to my horse to go find my brothers before they came to find me. I turned around and he held me in his arms, whispering in my ear; “come back tonight”. And I nodded. I left and went about my day and when the night came, my father went to sleep, my brothers went to sleep and, even though the four of us shared a room, I somehow managed to sneak out. I was so excited, looking forward to this forbidden meeting, my heart beating so fast and I enjoyed the sweetness with which the wind caressed my skin and played with my hair, riding under the moonlight. I arrived in town and found him by the docks, as usual. I had never seen Portus Magnus by night. It was so quiet – peaceful. His fellow sailors were sleeping too. It was just the two of us as we lied on the ship’s deck and looked at the night sky. I loved the stars. Not more than horses, but I loved them. They fascinated me and I wished I could touch them, stretching out my arm high in the hair. As a child, I often asked Andria, or my father, to carry me on their shoulder so I could try and touch them. I wanted to hold one in my hand – these little shining balls. And we kissed. I had never kissed a boy before. He wasn’t the first I liked, but he was the first I kissed. The first boy I really liked lived in the village down the valley, where I often went with my brothers. I was 16 when I met him, and we did grow fond of each other rather quickly. At the time, people began to tell my father he should marry me off to a man, but he wouldn’t. I remember then, he had asked me if I loved this boy. I thought I did – and I most likely did – and he was actually considering marrying us but then, one day, he fell off his horse after it got spooked by a snake in the high grass and he lost control. He got trampled and died, less than an hour later. I was shattered but I didn’t want to cry in front of my father and my brothers, so I didn’t. This all happened two years prior to my first meeting with this sailor, and I felt this was different. He wouldn’t die like this. Maybe we could get married. Maybe my father would say yes, and I could go to Rome with him. We kissed, and this perfect scenario went through my head, and it seemed so possible, so real, as if it was already happening. My first kiss, but the first time I ever laid down with a man. Then we heard noise, and we hid and fell asleep in the shadows of piled up crates and sacks.

“Oy!” We were woken up abruptly, sitting up with a gasp as a sailor threw a bucket of water over our heads. We were pulled away from each other. That was when I realized we were already far from the coast. Aelius was flogged for his misbehavior – bringing a woman on the boat. And I was dragged towards the edge and thrown to the other side, clinging to a rope, feet dangling in the air. I ended up in this position after asking if they couldn’t just send me back to Portus Magnus, that I wouldn’t cause them more trouble.

“You can swim home if you want to, girl.” The merchant said, looking down on me. But I didn’t know how to swim. I had never swum a day in my life, and I looked beneath me with terror in my eyes and felt my hands slip down the rope, the palms of my hands growing warmer and sweaty, and begged. I didn’t cry, but I begged them to let me stay on the boat, that I would do anything to make me useful until they reached Rome. “And what will you even do in Rome?”

“I can work.”

“I have no use for a girl like you—” he cut himself off mid-sentence, thinking. They pulled me up and dragged me to his cabin, keeping me from going to check on Aelius who lied on the deck, still, but not dead. He was groaning in pain. I could hear him, until the merchant closed the doors. “You’ll stay here until we reach Rome, then I’ll see what I’ll do with you.”

“Thank you—” He left me alone. The trip lasted 9 days – I counted. Everyday, I spent my time curled up in a corner of his cabin, I watched the waves, the ocean stretching as far as the eye could see. That was all I could do. I wish I didn’t remember what happened on that boat. When the first night came, I saw what my life would be until we reached Rome. He tried to force himself on me, which he successfully did – after shoving me in a piece of furniture when I scratched his face, and then grabbed a gold candle holder and swang it around as I dodged his blows, until he finally managed to strike me – a violent blow to the shoulder – and I fell, letting out a sharp scream. I felt my collarbone break. My heart was speeding. I couldn’t catch my breath. The pain was so intense I thought my heart was going to explode. Tears poured down as he grabbed my face, firmly, and threatened to break my entire arm, and the other one as well, if I kept being “ungrateful” after he allowed me to stay on his boat, using my own naïve words against me. I shouldn’t have said I would do anything. I believe the sharks would have been less cruel. That night, he left me to cry and whimper, quietly, in a corner while he slept, but the other nights, he did whatever he wanted with me, and I couldn’t possibly fight back.

The pain was unbearable and yet I endured. I genuinely thought all hope was lost at this point. I was hurting, isolated. I cried. I desperetaly wanted to return to my father, my brothers, my horses, my sweet life. Going to Rome didn’t sound like such a dream anymore. When I looked out the porthole, I watched the waves, but I watched the birds flying around the ship too. I was like a bird, with its wing broken, and kept in a cage. Eventually, we reached the harbour of Ostia, Rome’s port. I was put in chains and sent to be sold as a slave at the market. This was not what I had dreamed of. But after 9 days and 8 nights of hell, I was there, with a chain going around the back of my neck from which a wooden plaque hung over my chest. I was forced to stand straight but my shoulder was drooping to the side. My arm felt so stiff and I could hear a sort of grinding or crackling sound when I did move my shoulder. It made me sick. On the plaque could be read my country of origin, and my name along with roman numerals which I didn’t know the role of.

“HISPANIA

ALDEA

XX”

The big man that was taking care of the sells – “offerings” he called us – yelled the names, making diminishing and belittling comments on the dozen slaves lined up on the stage. I listened with one ear, too busy trying to keep my composure and not let my pain show. I felt my eyebrows furrow as I stared at the crowd. A couple thousand serteces here, a few hundred there. I had never seen slaves being sold and never in my wildest dreams would have I thought I would be one of them. Then it came to me.

“Look at this one.” the man pulled me closer to him, luckily, he grabbed my good arm at first but then I tried to slip away, and he smacked his hand on my broken shoulder and squeezed. The broken bone moved, and my eyes got teary. I couldn’t help but hold my breath. I let out a low groan through my gritted teeth, closing my eyes for a second, my head slightly falling forward. I sighed through my nose, like a horse. “Andalusian beauty straight from Baetica. Well formed. As sturdy as their horses, she knows all about them, and can cook you all kinds of wonderful meals.”

The vendor moved his hand off my shoulder and lifted my head, showing off my features to the crowd. I sighed heavily; the pain lingered but without the pressure of his hand on my injury. That’s when I reopened my eyes and crossed his gaze. While everyone was mumbling to each other, shaking their heads as they looked me up and down, mentioning my shoulder, showing disapproval and disinterest but he was looking at me with curiosity, slightly squinting his eyes. I couldn’t help but stare at him in surprise when he offered a few hundred serteces to buy me. I was led off stage and they removed the plaque from my neck and pushed me towards the man they had called Tenax. I approached him as he bent over to talk to a small child next to him. The boy ran off. Tenax turned back towards me and stretched out his arm, but he didn’t grab my arm, he just put a hand in my back to lead me to move forward and glanced at me as I wouldn’t stop staring. He brought me to a building, we entered through the front door, climbed a couple flight of stairs and walked in an apartment – his apartment, obviously. I stood there, my eyes scanning the room, but I quickly started staring at him again. He was his back to me, moving a bunch of things on a piece of furniture by the door.

“Do all Spaniard women stare in silence, or is it just you?” He leaned on the cupboard and locked eyes with me, eyebrows slightly raised. I parted my lips and looked down, but still held my head high. I’m not sure he heard me when I mumbled an apology under my breath, but he spoke again anyway. “I called for a physician, to take a look at your shoulder.”

“Thank you.”

“She speaks.” His tone was light. I wondered why he would have someone look at my injury, but he answered my question on his own, and if I had thought about it for longer than a second, I would have figured it out as it was fairly obvious and reminded me of my status once more. “I own a betting tavern in town. I’ll let you work there, but you won’t be of any use to me if I leave your injury untreated.”

“Sí – uh, yes.” I caught myself as I first answered in my native language and I caught him smiling, and I caught myself smiling too. I thought, maybe, he wasn’t as bad as the merchant. I thought I didn’t trust him, that I was just not too wary, not scared but I actually began to trust him when he said he called a physician for me. I always thought my brother, Andria, was wrong when he said I trusted too easily but he was right, and this quality of mine was a double-edged sword, sometimes cutting me deep, like with the merchant.

“How did it happen?”

“I fell.” I could tell he didn’t believe me, looking me up and down, doubtfully, but someone knocked on the door before he could voice his suspicion. Tenax straightened up and went to open. The physician, an old man with a short beard, came in, opening a box on the table as he exchanged a few words with Tenax. In his box, I saw a bunch of herbs and ointments among other things. He turned to me and when he raised his hand to take my arm, I flinched and noticed Tenax watching me like a hawk. His gaze wasn’t harsh though. I saw in his eyes the same curiosity as he had back at the auction. He gave me a nod and I lowered my sleeve, letting the physician look at my shoulder. My collarbone was red, and swollen, and looked about as bad as it felt. He asked if I could move my arm at all, and I said no. He slowly pushed my arm upwards and brought his ear closer, and no matter how much I contained myself, I couldn't hold back from crying out. I felt as though my bone was grinding.

“It’s the shoulder. The collarbone is broken – here.” He circled the swollen area and showed a lump sticking out and I sighed through my nose, letting out a chimper, digging my nails into my palm. He then advised my arm be put in a sling for the next few months and he gave me a sip of tincture of poppies, telling Tenax not to give me more than three times a day. As it wasn’t the arm itself that was injured, he couldn’t do much. He and his assistant then left them alone and an old woman, whom Tenax referred to as Claudia, helped set up my arm into a sling.

“I’m going to ask again. How did it happen? It’s all right. You can tell me, Aldea.”

“The merchant who brought me to Rome. He—” I took a shaky breath. I wasn’t going to tell him all that happened. I didn’t want to, but mostly, I couldn’t. The words wouldn’t leave my lips. “I struggled... I barely scratched his face and he – he struck me with a candlestick.”

“I see.” He looked away for a second. Maybe he was touched by my story, maybe not. I couldn’t really tell. He then showed me the door from which Claudia came out, telling me that I would sleep in that room. He had her cook me some food and I watched him leave as he returned to work to his betting tavern, adding that I should rest and that he would show me around tomorrow. I ate a good stew, warm in my belly. And then I lied down on my bed, doing as he said and had some rest. I woke up a few hours later, breathing frantically after having a nightmare where I was back on the ship, and I was quickly brought back to reality when I rolled on my wrong side and sat up with a whimper. I tried to catch my breath as I got up from the bed and Claudia came in, having heard me making noise. She gave me some more tincture of poppies.

“Where’s Tenax?”

“He’s already at the tavern. I will bring you to him. Come on.” I thought I had only slept for a few hours and woken up during the afternoon, but it seemed it was already the next day. Little did I realize I had been this sleep deprived during my stay on the merchant’s ship. I was in such pain; I didn’t even realize I was this tired. She walked me through the streets, and we reached the betting tavern a few minutes later. There were so many people in the same place, so much noise. People arguing, talking, laughing and thinking about their bets for the next race. Large curtains, left half open, divided the tavern’s space. On one side, there were tables and on the other, there was a desk with the space Claudia went home, pushing me forward. I walked through the curtains, glancing over my shoulder and stepping aside as a man walked past me. There were slated up on the wall with names written and beads haning on threads stretched from one side to the other of rectangle wooden frames. Tenax was nearby, talking to a man in a blue tunic. He had seen me but wasn’t done with his conversation, so I wandered around the betting desk and took a closer look at the frames, sliding my finger on a bead to make it roll around the thread. I had no idea what it was. I felt someone come up behind me and saw Tenax appear in my field of vision.

“That’s an abacus – a counting board.”

“How does it work?” He walked behind the counter and proceeded to explain to me the ins and outs of the abacus. I watched him carefully as he accompanied his comments with gestures, to illustrate his words and I nodded when I understood and began to speak up, making his explanation interactive.

“Good. You’re a quick learner.”

“I can’t believe you’ve never seen one, Spaniard princess.” The man in the blue tunic chimed in, his arms crossed over his chest. He had a thick accent, rolling his r’s. not Spaniard, I thought. The nickname he had given me made me chuckle. Either Tenax told him I wasn’t roman, or he could tell from my olive skin and accent. I heard how differently I spoke from the Romans around me. If they weren’t sure I was a Spaniard from looking at me, my pronunciation would betray me. The name Scorpus left Tenax’s lips as he introduced him to her. He was a charioteer whose fame was ever-growing. “The most famous one” he corrected Tenax. He looked and sounded proud, holding his head high with a cocky smile. I found him funny, and I liked his accent.

“No, I’d never seen one. I didn’t need this to take care of horses.”

“You took care of horses back home?”

“Yes, with my brothers. I always loved horses.” I followed Scorpus’ gaze as he turned his head to Tenax. The latter waved his hand, motioning for us to go before leaning on the counter.

“Go.”

“After you…” He held out his hand in front of him, inviting me to move forward. We left the betting tavern and walked to the stables. There was a dozen of them, most of them closed, people coming in and out of them, glancing at us. As we approached an open stable, he took off his hood – I didn’t even realize that he had put a hood over his head in the first place. There I met a man, Gavros, one of the stable hands. He was nice from the start. Scorpus eventually left and I spoke horses with Gavros. He was a former charioteer himself.

“I prefer riding bareback.” I spoke. “Helps to create a stronger bond between the horse and its rider.”

“You rode bareback? That requires a lot of strength.” He declared, looking me up and down.

“I guess.” I had gotten so used to it; I had no idea if it made me strong. I wasn’t sure I was strong at all.

“Is that how you hurt your arm? You fell?”

“I, uh, I did – fall, but not because I rode bareback. Do you think I could work as a stablehand too?”

“I wouldn’t be against it. You sure know your way around horses.”

“I’ll ask Tenax later. He—” I was cut off midsentence, before telling Gavros that I was Tenax’s slave and turned around when I heard his voice behind me. He was standing by the stable’s doors.

“Ask me in a few months, when your arm isn’t in a sling anymore. Then we’ll see.” He had a faint smile on his face. I went back to the betting tavern with him, and he showed me around, telling me I’d work there, helping with whatever I was able to do. I met a bunch of small kids too, a little over a dozen of them. I noticed straight away that they looked up to Tenax, though he justified it by the fact that they were exactly just that, young children, and they would look up t anyone who gave them food and coin. But seeing all this, and the good opinion I already had of him, only further strengthened my initial thought – I could trust him. Maybe he wouldn’t keep me as a slave for very long. I wouldn't actually mind working for him anyway, even if i wasn't forced to.

[To be continued…]  

Next Chapter

Published (07/28/2024) by Andrea

[specter319]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄? (Ace Combat x CoD 141)

A/N: As a little Christmas present, I decided to work on a little something something, seeing a random anon state in @mockerycrow's Ask about fighter jets and Task Force 141 got my interest real quick, having been someone who got introduced to these two fandoms 1-2 years ago I absolutely adore the storyline in regards to Trigger and Count, but also the storyline as a whole, neatly wrapping up the reason why three strikes is called three strikes, if only a certain other game could have the same sort of stable plot- Complaints about the plot aside for those who stumble upon it have fun with this little short story that's been brewing in my head! Please enjoy the Homoeroticism of Ghost and Soap Trigger Warnings: Mention of Blood Word Count: 2.5k Words Characters: John 'Soap' MacTavish x Simon 'Ghost' Riley, mentions of Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick and Johnathan Price.

From the moment John MacTavish’s Scottish blue eyes gazed upwards into the beautiful atmosphere above him, he knew he was utterly and completely fucked. It all started with one moment in time, watching the infamous ‘Ghost’ launch one of their newly brought F-35s testing it out for another squadron, making sure all systems were in check. Watching it from the fences as the utter decimation of their ears thanks to the lack of protection were good faith to the man taking it, for what seemed to be a joy ride. And as Kyle and John stood there, seeing it hovering just mere meters above the runway, their joy was all but uncontainable in knowing just who was behind the sticks.

Conversations were the only thing that took over the engines' mighty roar as Kyle and John yelled at the inanimate object in celebration.

“Ooh yeah! Ooh yeah!” Kyle yelled out.

“Ooh, go ‘un, go ‘un” John egged right back.

And then, just as it pulled up, sure it was now at best pulling upwards of 5 gees, the men on the ground cheered.

“Go on you fuckin’ beauty!” Just as it was making its way further into the clouds, graciously curving its own form into the shape of them. 

They were ecstatic, joyful, even, at least one was, to see a man so tall, almost built like a damn statue from ancient history managing to tame a beast so wild, and wicked. And yet, knowing that it was almost second nature in that man's blood to fly it, because that bastard was the only one allowed, thanks to the great charm of the bastards in the west, to have an F-22 Raptor. The only one in the UK, belonged to a man who had no name, never showed his face to the people he didn’t know, including the two men who stood there on the grassy knoll outside of the airbase cheering him on. 

What a weird shitpot of luck that was, almost as if the gods of fate above had been watching the two men above, seeing them be so supportive of a man who never had the cheers of his fellow squad members, but instead, feared him. Tried to rebel against him, just to get a far enough away distance to stay away from a man and his, as some people called it ‘Raptor’s Ghost’.

Those that had seen it, had been lucky enough to tell the tale, at least, on the side he came back to, fellow squadron and captain, but those who had been on the receiving side of those guns as they lifted from their molded seam, only saw a wisp of a dark gray aircraft, before a fiery explosion filled their cabin.

Yes, there was one thing to be known about this ‘Ghosts’ jet — he’d specified that he must have it in a darker gray. Just a couple of shades darker than what the original metal was painted as. And the thing was? Somehow, amongst his captains ranking, the government and even the fuckers down in Lockheed — they’d said yes to the request. Even if a few bureaucrats in the Pentagon were waving the red flag from the start.

So he guessed that’s what the plan was then, to go and catch a sneak in the middle of the night of what it looked like, though Kyle tried with all of his might to persuade him otherwise, John was dead set on seeing the beauty that stood in the dead of the night in Ghost’s hangar, wielded far away from the rest of the base, but close enough to know that the rest of the team always, haunted by a Ghost, he guessed that’s where the name came from then. Given that this was usually seen beside the B-2, a call sign of Ghost would’ve been fitting for someone in a something like this. And it seemed like fate was tempting him all and amongst this, because, as John approached the hangar, as big as it was, there was a crack left open, not closed, like all the other times he’d passed it in his own jet. Only to then realize this was the reason why they had called him Ghost to begin with, no one thought he was around, until it was too late.

Everyone knew this Ghost, was a guy, they’d heard his voice, never heard him laugh, was only ever a man of a few simple commands and went off when requested. What caught John MacTavish off guard however, was not only the hangar open, but the place had reeked of oil and fuel, only to be diverged its acoustics of the tin metal in the sound of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, a far cry from the throat roar of the hotdogged engines, John could already tell what Ghost had been doing to the poor thing. Either someone had been here recently or there was still someone here, but that never mattered as his Scottish blue eyes once more, got him fucked over, classical music be damned.

The metallic gray was no longer present, much like he had seen on the various photos that had beautifully given the thing a personality of beauty, and yet deadly. But instead, it was given a more, mature grayed look, as if it was a rehashed version of the F-35, the very same one he had been seen in this afternoon in a reskinned jet. Sudden realizations hit the man when thinking in Ghost’s logic, not too shabby for a Ghost when John had realized that much to his enemies disliking, when they suddenly realized that the jet was no longer a most recent US fighter, it was too late to break off anyway.

And much akin to John’s own footsteps, he’d realized that he was pulled in by the absolute sheer squared beauty of the thing and had moved right into the Ghost’s trap.

“What are you doin’ in my hangar?” Ghost lowly spoke, standing to the side, having seen him since he strolled in here. 

“Jesus wept!” John spoke as he suddenly turned around, the closed distance between them was something almost scary at just how close and personal this man had gotten, and all amongst that, he seemingly had the goal to wear a bloody balaclava, all the while wearing a stripped down version of the gear they would have to haul around on their bodies. Was he really that comfortable in wearing the same shit each day? At least the only thing invading his senses was oil and fuel. 

“I said what are ya doing here?” Ghost questioned before his eyes glanced over at the hangar “Squadron leaders gonna know about this,” his voice loomed.

“Sorry,” That’s all the weak bastard had as he tried to pick himself up faster than he could pull back on his own stick. “A’m interested in that piece of art ye’v got there, heard you were the one flying the Lightning around this mornin’”

“So you were the two hanging around the fence”

John stiffened at the sheer mention of that, he’d seen them? He didn’t think he had given the height already gained as he passed the pair of them from the runway.

“Wanted to watch her give her a proper launch, sir” John hesitated as Ghost only snorted and shook his head at the mention of the last word.

“Flight Lieutenant to you” This Ghost guy seemingly didn’t want to have him out of his hangar after all, but there was no doubt that heavy brown eyes were on him, painted darker then the plane before him as his eyes registered on MacTavish’s uniform still barely on given the zip that was seemingly fought with, the sheen of sweat that was just above the ridgeline of his eyebrows gave away just how much he’d been working during the rest of his day, when he seemingly wasn’t cheering this man on, then again. MacTavish did seem like a familiar last name, what could hurt but to take a guess.

“Apologies,” John moved ever so closer to the jet, almost as if he were to go ahead and, to the thought running in the back of Ghost’s mind, steal it. Poor bastard, probably wouldn’t be able to handle the ride as well as he could. “Does that mean I get to call you LT then?”

The cocky chatter over the radio, often with another teammate, only gave Ghost all the more confidence to take that stab in the dark to try and pinpoint just who he was.

“You can, so long as you tell me if you’re the one flying that bloody F-16 around.”

John’s eyes suddenly went wide, and of course, that cocky Brit saw it, and with his own pair too. His soul had actively left his body in the acknowledgement that someone had noticed his maneuverability, everyone else had F/A-18’s. But MacTavish was the one that stood his ground when he said he wanted a former fighter pilots F-16, ready to be given back to the Americans, decommissioned, probably in a scrap heap, and yet, here he was, breathing new life into it and treating it like it had just come off the factory rollers. Though, his only fault that he seemingly had with it, was that of the lack of gun ammunition, paling in comparison to something like the beast that stood before him.

“Uh, and why would tha’ be?” 

Ghost paused, raising a brow in confusion, maybe he was going to have to talk to John’s squad leader, had he really not seen beyond his two feet at just who he had under his wing, the man could maneuver the thing as well as he could like the jet he stood before and maybe, if he ever took the chance (which, in high unlikely doubt he would) he could probably pilot Ghost’s, if not, with just a bigger amount of hesitation.

“Just wanted to give a recommendation to the squadron leader as to who to take under our wing, old talents retiring at the end of the year, figured I’d give whoevers flying that F-16 and the one with the yellow strip along the body of the ‘18 a fighting chance at joining the 141” He brushed it off, like it was a chance to come clean. Ghost knew that MacTavish was the one flying the thing, often put in a good word about it to Price. And Price often agreed, that and ‘Gaz’ who was often his wingmanaccording to Price’s notes were often hotshots, but never in an egotistical, ‘wanting to show who’s boss’ way, it was always one of teamwork, and he quite enjoyed seeing them chant as one of their other teammates took down a target before they did.

“The 141?” MacTavish asked

“Yeah, just need to find out who the pair are in the two jets first” Ghost was toying with him as he finally made a move over to his own, inspecting the various scratches that were seemingly evident in the light, but gave the aircraft a seemingly weathered look, one that, Ghost admired. 

“There a reason why they call you the Ghost?” Quick this one was to change the subject, avoiding it, but copying him all the more in his movements as John did the same, placing a gentle hand along the aircraft as his calloused fingers felt a deep scar along the face of the jet, maybe that’s why he rarely had repairs done to the thing other than ones that were required. Maybe that’s why he wears the mask, he’s damaged, just like the bird before him – but he still flies, still finds meaning in the daylight and blue hues of skies.

“There a reason why you’re dancing around the question?” Their hands moved along the surface of the steel at almost the same time, unknown, but as if they were tracing one another's patterns as the question was left in the air for a bit too long before they finally moved to the nose of the aircraft, having no choice but to look at one another as they did so.

“Could say the same,” He watched as Ghost moved towards him, facing him, how he towered over the man with that stature of power, and yet, the only real dominating power he seemingly had left was his rank, and the jet. Because all the smug bastard did was place his hands behind his back and look down at the Scotsman, as if inspecting him as he did the jet, to see if like him, he too had scars beneath that mohawk and blue eyes that seemingly contrasted ever so beautifully along the dark gray. “What happens if one of us already knows the answers?” 

“Then I guess one of us will have to await the answers of the future, but if they already know the answers, they shouldn’t have to wait too long” They both knew one another were staring, helplessly, but stopping it neither as eyes behind that mask squinted ever so gently. So he did have his scars, one on the chin, must have had a bad accident for it to get that bad, and the blood from it too.

“Then I guess I’ll ‘ave ta’ see me way out of this museum then huh? Wouldn’t want ta make a scene now aye?” John smiled, physically having to retch himself from the spot he stood in, not wanting to move away from the view that was before him.

“Don’t quite appreciate customers making a scene and disturbing the nature of this art” So he wasn’t the only one to quickly move along with what he was suggesting as he followed him, only ever a few steps behind, maybe that’s why he got that name, loud as anything in a jet, then he never exists once the engines shut off.

Ghost eventually stopped following him as John made his way out near the doors of the hangar, lingering around just a bit more before he stopped in his tracks, just maybe, if he really did have the answers, he could see how his future LT would respond. “Don’t think I could handle two pieces of art in a museum, never been able ta handle more than one” He swore up and down he saw the man’s head snap into place about that comment, a slight squint at the body language that John was trying to portray as he moved through the hangar doors. “Have a good night, LT”

“Officer Mactavish.”

Payback time.

“Aye sir?” And they’d fallen into line already, a wingman, of sorts, to a Ghost.

“Call me Simon”

Now MacTavish was standing there, being a complete idiot, baffled by the fact that he, of all people, managed to get into the inner circle of a man named Simon, a Ghost. A snort was then heard through the airy atmosphere as he suddenly turned around and walked back towards the stairs of his office, looking back over his shoulder, leaving him in a scrambled state that was the brain of John MacTavish.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” He paused, “For a F-16 Pilot.”

So that’s his name.

[spinchip]

NEVER THE DARK

Chapter 11

Read on Ao3

Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10

Warnings: discussions of addiction, body horror

Chapter art by @artqueen02 (Thank you!!)

THERE ARE WAYS OUT.// THERE IS A LIGHT SOMEWHERE.// IT MAY NOT BE MUCH LIGHT// BUT IT BEATS THE DARKNESS.

Lloyd keeps quiet as they walk, lost in thought. He analyzed the dinner conversation in his head to see if he could gather any new information, but Birdy and Samira both were skilled at saying nothing of note if they spoke carefully enough.

“Are you alright?” Birdy asks quietly.

“As much as I can be in this situation.” Lloyd grimaces, “There’s things I want to ask you.”

“Later.” Birdy promises, “When we’re outside the nest.”

They round the corner into a downward slope that takes them all the way back down to ground level. Birdy confidently passes several branching pathways until they come to the last one, walking the corridor in silence. At the end is a large vaulted room that opens up to a massive cave mouth in the side of the mountain. Ila is there with her back turned, but the moment Lloyd and Birdy step closer her tentacles wiggle and tap at her until she spins to face them.

“Oh, hey guys.” Her tentacles deliver two old fashioned saddles, presenting them to the two men with a flourish. Only now does Lloyd take a moment to look around at the wooden stalls around the room. In Ninjago these saddles would settle onto the backs of big wooly wallopers, but there’s a distinct lack of massive horns poking out of each stall. Instead…

Lloyd gasps, “Are we going to ride horses!?” He demands excitedly, pointing at the unassuming brown beast resting in its stall, “Do I get to pick mine!?”

Ila looks surprised, brown eyebrows raising, “I figured you wouldn’t want to. You like them…?”

“They’re adorable!” Lloyd gushes, walking over to a hoofed monster and raising a slow hand to pat its thick tree-trunk of a neck.

“Well, uhm, sure, you’re welcome to pick then. Anyone other than Topstitch, she’s Samiras mare.” She glances at Birdy and offers a knowing smile, “I have a feeling Suncup is off the market as well.”

Birdy approaches a white horse that makes an adorable whinny as he steps closer. The horse's mane and tail are a pale gray and its coat is lightly mottled with more of that color. It’s eyes are a deep, intelligent black, “Suncup is the horse I typically use.” Birdy explains, smoothing a palm down the colt's long nose.

“He’s beautiful,” Lloyd remarks, “But I think I like…” He squints at the nameplate by the stall door, “Honeysuckle.” She’s a beautiful solid brown mare with a light colored mane, and she noses her head under Lloyd's hand when he reaches out to see if she’ll accept a pet, lavishing under the attention.

“Honeysuckle is one of the sweetest and most reliable we have. Good choice!” Ila hands the two of them a bundle of straps that she shows Lloyd how to place along with the saddle so that both horses are prepared for the trek. After the horses headgear is all in place, Ila passes them both a small rucksack of food and water for the trip.

“Thank you, Ila.” Birdy takes his bag and Lloyd parrots him.

“It’s already big news in town that you’re headed to the graveyard.” She informs them, “Three funeral flowers… Birdy, that’s a tall order.”

“I will see you soon.” He promises and she nods, uncertain.

Birdy motions to Lloyd and demonstrates how to get on the horse. After only falling two times, Lloyd successfully mounts the ever patient Honeysuckle and they head out the garage entrance and onto a hard packed pathway into what must be a courtyard or garden area that separates the palace from the rest of town. They wind their way around the maze-like walls and open pasture space slow but steady as Lloyd gets his bearings on horseback riding. It’s not so different from a Walloper, really. They wave to several guards who raise up the gate leading out of the palace farmland before finally stepping foot back into town. Just like Ila said, the people on the street are watching them and whispering to themselves. Lloyd catches funeral flower more than once in the hushed gossip.

They get through the heart of the town with no incidents, but when they pass through the market on the outskirts someone steps in their way, their horses coming to a stop and awaiting direction from their riders. Lloyd can’t tell what species she was originally, if she was from Ninjago or not. She’s got long tubes protruding out of her skull, like horns made of flesh, and her body is covered with patches of fur, feathers, and bald skin. Her face is distinctly inhuman. She has no mouth.

She holds up her hands and does a series of quick signs. I heard you are going to the graveyard. Is this true?

“Yes, it is true.” Birdy confirms.

“Was that sign language? You can understand her?” Lloyd asks curiously. Birdy shoots him a glance, intending to answer but the woman waves to keep his attention on their conversation.

She hesitates a moment. You will do me a favor. I will owe you greatly.

“What favor?”

“What’s she saying?”

She reaches into her satchel before pulling out a small bag and stepping close to discreetly hand him the precious cargo. Birdy takes it and glances inside at its contents.

Deliver these to Deacon. She signs firmly.

Birdy takes a moment to consider her request, weighing how much time they could afford to lose. He closes the bag up securely, tying the rope to make absolutely sure none of its contents spilled, “We will do this for you, Elona.” He promises.

I owe you.

“You owe me nothing.” Birdy says firmly, to which the woman just repeats her previous signs again, but firmer this time.

After Birdy tucks the bag into his shirt, the two continue on. It isn’t until they’re well past the city and into the living fields that Birdy speaks again, “Yes, that was sign language.  Specifically Cloud Kingdom sign. Elona has asked us to deliver a gift to her partner Deacon. He lives next to the graveyard.”

“What was the gift?” Lloyd asks curiously.

Birdy pulls the bag back out of his shirt, opening it and letting Lloyd peek inside. It’s two bright pink spheres, smooth and clear like little marbles, and one black oblong shape. He points to the pink ones first, “These are Pink Pills. They are painkillers- highly potent and highly addictive. The mutations this realm causes are debilitating and painful, but these pills make living bearable. That is how Samira stays in power. She controls the production and distribution of these pills, and anyone who is subservient to her is supplied.”

“She gets people hooked on painkillers to get them to do what she wants?” Lloyd frowns at the information, clenching his hands around Honeysuckles reigns.

“Yes. I would even assume…” He trails off before reaching over and taking Lloyd's travel pack given to him by Ila, rummaging through it until his hand lands on another small satchel. He pulls it out and opens it, revealing a perfect pink marble. “Just as I suspected. She provided you with a pill in the hopes you would take it without realizing what it is.”

“She put it in with the food.” Lloyd realized, “It was a setup from the start.”

“Yes.” Birdy confirmed, “She hoped to get you hooked. I am sure she will try to offer them to the others too.”

Lloyd looked back at the city in the distance, “They know better than to take candy from a stranger. I think.”

Birdy points next at the oblong black pill, “This is the Cure.”

“What?”

“It is exactly what we are traveling to find. A single funeral flower can be reduced into enough concentrate to make fifty of these. When the pills are taken, they reverse the effects of mutation slightly.”

Lloyd gapes at the unassuming thing, “And Elona is just giving it away? Why?”

“Deacon is further along in his sickness.” Birdy explains, brushing off a few of the rubbery octopus plant tendrils trying to wrap around his feathered cape. The horses don’t blink at the plants, used to the ticklish vines attempting to stop them in their tracks.

Lloyd mulls over this, “Why doesn’t Elona take them to Deacon herself?”

Birdy is quiet for a moment, “Deacon is losing himself to the change.” He says carefully, “It is dangerous to be near him. That, and Elona is weakened by her own mutation. There is no guarantee she will make it.”

Lloyd lets them lapse into a short silence.

“She asked you to deliver the pill to him. She had faith you wouldn’t take it.” He lets the words sit in his mouth for a moment, “She trusts you.”

Birdy inclines his head, but doesn’t say a word.

They pass through the field and head into the forest. Lloyd had been too busy watching their captors last time they’d walked here, but now he can take in the terrain. There are tree-like plants that shoot up from the ground thick and fat, with smooth shiny surfaces and circular leaves on top. Mixed in are short blue trees with hanging purple branches like a weeping willow. Moss grows in sporadic patches along everything, the plant shuddering and popping unnaturally. A thin bush is in the midst of agonizingly slowly pulling its roots up from the ground to migrate to a better patch of soil. The forest is filled with sound, and Lloyd finds himself searching for the sources as they trek further and further.

A low whistle comes from a large curled single-petal flower that expels its pollen with a burst of air through its petal. He finds the source of tiny clicking noises when he realizes there’s camouflaged multi-legged creatures skittering on the surface of the smooth trees. Underlying all those and more is a faint, constant buzzing.

Birdy seems lost in thought, walking ahead of Lloyd slightly. It wouldn’t hurt to take a closer look, just to see if he can find the source, right? Using his ninja skills, he silently slides off Honeysuckles and pulls her to the side of the path, stepping into the thicket of trees and tuning his ears to that buzz. He leaves her there to wait for him as he walks slowly through the undergrowth, passing trees and strange bushes and rocks that swell like they’re breathing until his ears prick. There, to the left- one of the weeping willow trees. It’s only a few feet taller than Lloyd, and as he approaches he realizes there’s tiny little moving lights on the branches. A closer look, and he can see minuscule beetles puttering about on the plants surface.

The smell hits him then, a sweet tang that sits thick on the back of his throat. It smells like fresh cotton candy, a Caramel dipped apple, one of those massive suckers from mad monster amusement park- the kind Lloyd had played endless carnival games for until he won one. It’s from the tree, there’s no doubt about it. The fizzing noise gets louder as he parts the tree limbs, stepping under the canopy into the darkness. Faint blue light peeks from between the plates of the tree bark that all lead to a large dark hole in the center of the trunk. It’s big enough for Lloyd to walk in without crouching, and he approaches the blackness curiously. The fizzing is so loud, but it's not frightening.

He’s right on the edge, about to peek inside that cavity, when the roots below him part suddenly and he slips, skidding down the roots into the black hole in the trunk- at the bottom, a pit of glowing blue liquid pops and bubbles, the half-digested remains of a horse slumped to one side. He jerks to a halt with a gasp and when he looks up Birdy is standing over him. One half of his spear is shoved through the roots into solid ground to keep them anchored as he hauls Lloyd up. The roots are slick and Lloyd can’t get his feet under him, reaching up to grip Birdy's arm so he doesn't fall.

Birdy grunts, looking around. “Hold on.” He says and Lloyd tightens his grip before Birdy lets go of the staff.

“What- you hold on!” Lloyd says in panic as they both slip deeper into the pit.

Birdy grabs a low hanging branch and yanks it with them into the pit, and almost immediately the tree begins to pull them out of the pit by its branch. Its roots firm up to the point where Lloyd can scramble to his feet and scamper out from under the tree with Birdy right behind him.

Lloyd only stops running when they get back to the pre-worn path, sagging against one of the safe-to-touch smooth trees. “Did I almost just get eaten by a tree?” He wheezes.

Birdy doesn’t seem winded at all, “A fizz tree.” He confirms, “Not actually a tree, but they are most similar to a pitcher plant or Venus fly trap in the way they catch prey.”

He squints over at Birdy, “How did we even escape?”

“A fully grown fizz tree like that will not grow new branches. What it has now is all it will get.” He explains as Lloyd catches his breath, “The acid in the pit of the tree will destroy that branch, and it simply was not worth it to the animal.”

“Animal? I thought it was a plant.”

“Technically-”

“I don’t want to know,” Lloyd covers his face with his hands, “I miss Ninjago.”

“I do as well.” Birdy says emphatically, approaching Suncup to hoist himself back up. “We need to make more headway before nightfall.”

Apologetically, Birdy begins to move on. After Lloyd collects Honeysuckle from down the path, he follows, keeping closer this time after that fiasco

He thanks Birdy for saving him to which the older man waves off the gratitude, but Lloyd keeps thinking about it. He jumped in without a second thought. To save someone he hardly knows. Birdy's earlier words have also intrigued him, starting him on a new line of questioning.

“So you’re from Ninjago. When did you come here?” He knows a good bit of Ninjago history, wondering if he can puzzle out which of the evils of the past that mysteriously vanished that Birdy might be. Part of him knows that it’s a dead end- Birdy just… he doesn’t seem like a bad guy.

He doesn’t expect a straight answer and Birdy delivers on that expectation, “Time is hard to track here. I’m not sure how long exactly.”

The fact that he answered at all is an encouraging sign, “What’s your actual name?” He decides to jump in, fully commit to the questioning.

Birdy turns and looks at him blankly, not answering.

“Oh come on! You know my name.” Lloyd argues.

With a shake of his head Birdy doesn’t sigh even if Lloyd thinks he wants to, “Very well.” He acquiesced before flashing four quick hand movements at Lloyd, “Did you get that?”

Lloyd blinks, “Get what?”

“My name. I just told you.”

“What..? You- oh- sign language!” Gasping, Lloyd glares at him, “that’s cheating! I don’t know Cloud Kingdom sign!”

“You did not clarify how I must tell you.” There’s definitely a smile in his voice.

Lloyd narrows his eyes, “Touché. Fine. Show me again, then.” He looks intently at Birdy's hand, fully intending on memorizing the sign to ask someone later.

Birdy shakes his head, “I already told you. I am not telling you again.”

Looking at him disbelievingly, Lloyd groans, “You’d make a great Lawyer with how much you like loopholes.” He grouses, petulantly riding beside him.

The weight Lloyd carries with him feels lighter. The realization hits him slowly, then all at once. He wasn’t… acting like a leader. The past three years, Lloyd had placed so much responsibility on himself to be a good leader, to make the right calls, to keep his team safe that he had put up a wall between him and the others. He’d been sitting on the other side of that wall trying to hold up the world, holding himself to an impossibly strict, serious standard. He studied day and night, pushed himself to examine and learn from his mistakes almost obsessively, and kept himself from relying on the others.

Here in this realm, he didn’t know anything. He had to rely on Birdy, had to defer to his knowledge in a way he hadn’t been able to- hadn’t felt comfortable enough to- do in a long time. In three years. He shared the burden with Birdy. The realization bothers him deeply.

Birdy seems to pick up on the mood shift. After a moment of hesitation he breaks the silence, “I cannot tell you my name but I will offer you… three questions.” He nods to himself, “Three questions I will answer truthfully- within reason.” He tacks on at the end.

Lloyd looks at him, surprised, “Really?” At Birdy's confirming nod, he taps a finger to his chin while he thinks. They move on in a companionable silence as Lloyd thinks over his question options, “You seem awfully comfortable in Oasis. You even have your own usual horse… Why?”

Birdy looks at him with surprise, maybe hoping Lloyd would ask something broader- something he could dance his way around to keep his past concealed. He hesitates for a long moment but… it doesn’t set off any warning bells in Lloyd's head. Despite how this should all be one big red flag, he finds himself… not quite trusting, but not suspicious of Birdy.

“I used to work with her.” He says carefully, “Before I realized what she was doing. When I first arrived in this realm I was not… in a good place. I needed a purpose, and Samira could offer that. Once I understood who she really was, I took off. As for my relationship with Samira… we have… an understanding.” He seems to be unsatisfied with that, worrying Suncup reigns as he tries to reword it, “I know a deadly secret of hers, and she knows a deadly secret of mine. We are at a stalemate and as such are on even ground. There are not many people that are on that level with Samira, and I think she enjoys the company… as do I.”

“So you’re friends?”

“Is that your second question?”

“No,” Lloyd answers immediately, “It’s an extension of my first question.”

“…Friends is the best way to describe it, I suppose.” He acquiesces.

“So after you worked with Samira you just left to go lone wolf?” Birdy cringes ever so slightly, and when the pause goes on a bit too long Lloyd adds, “That’s my second question.”

Birdy sighs gently, “I was alone for a bit but… I met another loner, and we ended up traveling together for several months. He…” He trails off, and Lloyd wisely keeps his mouth shut so Birdy can sort through the obvious complicated feelings around that time of his life.

“He called himself Farley. We… went our separate ways.” He says haltingly.

Lloyd winces, “Messy breakup?”

Birdy chuckles lowly, and there is no humor in it at all, “Something like that.”

They break out of the forest to a long open glass plain, the same brittle grass Lloyd remembered them trekking through before. The sun shined dully behind the overhead clouds, but it's brighter than it was when he’d first walked this area. It’s… beautiful, actually. Colors mottling the pale earth, turning it into a rainbow that stretches out in front of them endlessly.

“It is, sometimes.” Birdy agrees to Lloyd’s sentiment that he hadn’t even realized he’d said aloud.

They take a moment to admire the way the grass blades wave in the evershift, colors glittering and floating over-top of each other.

“What question do you have for me now?”

“I’d like to save this one, if you don’t mind.” He shoots him a sly grin that Birdy tilts his head at in amusement.

“I will allow it.” He says graciously before getting more serious, “We need to move quicker. We'll set up a gallop across the plains. Slow down at my signal.”

With a quick squeeze of his heels, Suncup takes off in a run and Lloyd quickly spurs Honeysuckle to follow.

Uh. How did he tell her to slow down again?

The wind whips around his face and blows his hair back as he grips the reins, hunched down over his horse as she races across flat ground. She has a smooth gallop but he still bobs up and down with the arc of her spine and he feels a familiar, euphoric glee bubble up his throat until he shouts out in joy, hollering and laughing as he basks in the feeling. It’s like riding dragon back- something he hadn’t done in years. He smiles at Birdy, who had gone from hunched over and serious to sitting back more like Lloyd, enjoying the ride just as much as Lloyd. Lloyd thinks he can hear him laugh too- lighter, more high pitched than his speaking voice-

Familiar?

He doesn’t dwell on anything but the feeling of the wind in his face, the power of the animal under him, and the scenery whipping past him. He feels younger than he has in a long while.

They don’t stay in a gallop for long, but the horses are still moving too quickly for casual conversation as the transition from glass grass to hard packed sand- not like the desert from before. This is a barren, empty place- and in the distance is a wall of thick mist that is pointedly different from the heavy smog that clings to the realm. There are large, naturally formed holes in the earth, caves and tunnels that the Horses have no problem avoiding.

Finally, Birdy motions for Lloyd to slow down. Honeysuckle follows Suncups lead, which is good because Lloyd still didn’t remember the right command to get her to stop. They’re not too far from the wall of smog as they stop in front of the dark mouth of a tunnel, the ground sloping steeply to allow them under the surface.

“This is Deacons cave.” Birdy informs him and he dismounts from Suncup. “Wait here.”

“What? No way.” Lloyd says immediately, hopping down from his saddle next, “You said Deacon was dangerous.”

“I have tough skin, Lloyd. I can handle him, you could get hurt.”

“I’m not letting you go down there alone.” Lloyd says firmly, surprised by the wave of protectiveness washing over him.

Birdy holds his gaze for a long moment before backing down, “Okay, but stay at the entrance. Do not follow me past the first column.”

Lloyd will take what he can get, “Fine.”

With a soothing pat to each of their horses, Lloyd and Birdy step down the slope into the hole in the ground. There’s a moment when they’re plunged into pitch dark before Lloyd eyes adjust to the glowing… webbing? Along the wall.

He touches it before he thinks, snatching his hand back in case that sets off Deacon.

Birdy notices, “You are free to touch the webbing, just be careful.” He says, motioning to the spot when Lloyd had touched. The webbing in that area went dull and stayed dull long after they passed it. Finally they reach the mouth of a deeper chamber in the cave, that same webbing covering one half of the room. The other half is strangely carved and connected, barely visible in the low light.

Birdy stops Lloyd from walking inside, “Please, stay here.”

There’s a low groan, animalistic with a distinctly human wail beneath it.

It’s only now that Lloyd fully realizes what he’s looking at. The part of the cave that was shrouded in darkness… is Deacon. He’s spread out across the wall and floor like a living mass of slime and skin, his body lacking bones or any real definition other than the sheen of oil and sweat from mutated pores. From formless lumps of skin poke fingers, toes, an ear- teeth and tongue too. He’s massive, body stretching in thick sheets and thin strings from floor to ceiling, the whole mass pulsing with a heartbeat or shuddering with heavy breaths.

“Good morning, Deacon.” Birdy says delicately.

The whole mass quivers unhappily, rolling over itself and more into the light at the voice. A single eye flops out with the shuffle to stare at Birdy. It’s impossible to tell his expression.

“How are you? Elona says hello.” He reaches slowly to the pouch at his side and undoes the ties, shaking out the pills, “She misses you.”

“Lon…” Deacon makes the approximation of her name, a low and deep vocalization from somewhere in what must be his chest.

A pillar of flesh whips out and slams into Birdy's hand and he hisses, balling up his fist so he doesn't scatter the medication across the stone. The flesh wraps around his wrist and squeezes so hard Lloyd can practically hear his bones creak.

Birdy holds up a hand so Lloyd wont rush in. He still has the situation under control.

He runs a soothing hand over Deacons… hand? “I know you are in pain, my friend. I am here to help. Elona sent me to help you.”

“Help… Elona… Lona…” His voice has a distinctly devastated tone to it. Heartbroken. “Hurt…”

“Elona is okay. She forgives you.” Birdy pats the lump of flesh that slowly uncurls, “You are not feeling well. She sent me to help you feel better.”

“Elona…” Deacon wails, releasing Birdy and letting the lump that used to be his arm flop flat to the floor.

Birdy squats and gently drops the pills onto his skin. He brings his fingers to the part of his mask where a mouth would be in a cone shape, “Eat.” He says as he motions it again, “It will make you feel better.”

Deacon slowly drags the lump back to his body.

There’s a long pause before- are Lloyds eyes tricking him? Was this the power of that pill? His skin seems to pull in on itself, growing tauter as a form takes shape in the lumps. His body is still mostly loose but there’s definitely the suggestion of a head and shoulders, even arms and fingers. His eyes, mouth, nod even nose form properly on his face.

“Birdy.” Deacon says hoarsely, “Are you alright?”

“You did not hurt me.” Birdy says gently.

“…Thank you… I must repay you…” He closes his eyes

“This was a favor for Elona, you do not need to worry about anything.”

Already, Deacon was swaying, body shimmering and loose, “I will not stay lucid long… please go… Tell my better half that I adore her… I am in no pain and I am to sleep…”

“I will, Deacon. Sleep well.”

His body drops back into the mass of lumps like water dropping back into a lake, but there is still a human silhouette in the mass. Birdy backs out of the room, keeping Lloyd behind him until he deems them far enough to turn their back on him.

“Are you okay?” Lloyd asks, reaching out to touch Birdy's injured wrist.

“I am.” Birdy assures him, guiding his hand away from the injury as they trek through the tunnel.

“You were so… nice.” Lloyd winces at his words, “Not that you shouldn’t be but just… when he lashed out…”

“He was not himself. I understand how that feels.” Birdy swallows, “The mutation process… it is cruel, Lloyd. It is unjust. These people, no matter their crimes, don’t deserve this type of torture. They need compassion and kindness. I wish I could help them more than I do.”

Lloyd looks away, “You remind me of my friend…”

He goes to say more as they surface from the pit but loses his voice at the massive beast hovering over their horses. It’s got six spindly weevil legs poking out of its perfectly round thorax. Attached above its body is a mass of skin stretched taut with the same gas of the graveyard, small streams of mist drifting from vents in the top of its sac. In between each set of the legs are several praying mantis-like limbs, and currently each limb was extended down below itself to touch their horses experimentally. The beast isn’t being rough with them, just examining them closely with its feelers.

Honeysuckle seems completely unperturbed by the animal, but Suncup is shifting nervously each time the feeler brushes his flank.

“That,” Birdy begins calmly, before Lloyd can panic about their horses, “Is what we can an Undertaker.”

“Undertaker? Like someone who deals with the dead?”

“Yes. And as soon as it realizes the horses are not dead, it will move on peacefully.”

Almost as if on cue, Suncup kicks out behind himself and clips one of the beast's arms. It jerks its arms back in surprise, folding them up alongside its thorax politely once it understands the animal beneath it is still alive and carefully steps over it. It doesn't approach the two, instead moving in a random direction with small steps as it searches for other, actually dead things. It reminds Lloyd of, if his limited memory of biology classes in Darkleys was correct, a massive bacteriophage. With a shorter neck.

As it leaves, Birdy moves forward to pat Suncup and calm him.

“They are scavengers, they primarily eat bone.” Birdy goes on, “They are completely blind and deaf, and they use touch to find their meals.”

Lloyd watches the beast approach and enter the mist of the graveyard, casually disappearing into its depths. He feels a pang of sadness, “So it doesn’t know it's going to die in there?”

Birdy shakes his head, “The undertakers live in the graveyard. They are only able to breathe the mist- the one we just saw was holding its breath in order to scavenge. They take bones and such back to the graveyard and wait for the mist to soften them enough so they can eat them. They can go an exceptional amount of time without breathing.”

Lloyd follows Birdy's example and mounts Honeysuckle as he hops back onto Suncup. They urge their horses to follow the undertaker over to the place where the graveyard's wall of mist rises into the sky, and they dismount right upon the border. The horses won't approach the mist closer, aware of its caustic properties.

“…now what?” Lloyd asks as Birdy slings his satchel off his shoulder and begins to rummage around in it.

“Now you wait here, and I will go into the mist to retrieve the flowers.” He says, taking out a tightly wound length of rope.

“You seriously think I’m going to let you go in there alone?” Birdy doesn't waver at this like he had at Deacons cave, steadfast in his resolve that Lloyd stay out of the mist.

“You must. You cannot handle the mist for long, while I can.” Birdy says firmly, brokering no room for argument, “I will tie one side of the rope to my belt and you will hold the other. If I do not come out by tomorrow morning, drag me out by the rope. Do you understand?”

Lloyd feels a swell of helplessness at those words but nods begrudgingly, “…Fine.” He says, clearly unhappy.

Birdy wastes no more time talking, looping the rope tightly around his blue belt and, with a nod to Lloyd, disappearing into the mist. Lloyd paces a track in the sand to pass the time. He counts grains of sand and tries to find shapes in the clouds for a while. He brushed honeysuckles mane for a while, until she got annoyed and bit at him so he would leave her alone.

He even sticks his hand into the mist to feel it, marveling at the tingly feeling spreading over his skin.

Night passes agonizingly slowly, but it does finally end. The sun rises in the sky easily, casting an increasingly familiar dim glow through the clouds.

Birdy doesn’t come back.

[strawberry-cow-smut]

Satan's Classroom Shenanigans

🌸Ageless + Minor = DNI🌸

Characters: Submissive, Top Satan (Obey Me)

Reader: Gender Neutral, Dominant, Bottom Reader

Exploring: Public Play, Secretive Play, Classroom Fucking, Blowjob, Exhibition (if you squint), Dick Riding, Overstimulation (Satan), Begging, Multiple Orgasms, Almost Getting Caught, Infirmary Fucking, Multiple Creampies, Abandonment of Restraint, Demon Form (though not playing a huge part)

Satan struggles to keep his head. Normally collected and focused, sharp as a knife in the classroom, he suddenly finds himself unable to think about anything aside from the menace hiding under his desk, prodding and rubbing at his cock during the last lecture of the day.

He's struggling to sit still. How could he when you're undoing his pants here of all places?! Do you have any idea how many people would see if he moved from his desk? What if the professor asks him to demonstrate a spell? You both would be exposed in a heartbeat.

You dig your nails into his thighs as his hips buck slightly, dick standing tall and proud before you. It's a miracle the tent in his pants didn't rip the fabric. He's leaking precum already and you've barely even touched him. He's so cute when he's this sensitive. You wish you could see his face right now, but that'd blow your cover, and you're going to be too busy blowing him.

His poor pen bears the weight of his restraint, teeth sinking into the cheap plastic covering and nearly puncturing the inkwell within the center. The professor's speaking. The class is entirely silent aside from them, and Satan couldn't stand to bear the embarrassment of moaning mid-lecture like Asmodeus had once done eons ago.

"Satan? Page 164, if you please."

Oh no.

He stands slowly, his left hand gripping the edge of his desk to the point his fingers turn white, his right hand shakily holding the textbook as he sucks in a sharp breath. The desk is at waist height, barely tall enough to hide you sucking his cock like it's the last source of water within an endless desert.

"Magical... Magical Creatures, Chapter Seventeen. The Gryffin is a-ah! A mythological beast whose body resembles that of a lion from the humAN world, and possesses the wings and head of an eagle. They range in size from as SMALL as ah... a mouse to as large as a small tank."

"Thank you, Satan. That will be enough. Are you alright?"

"Y-Yes! I'm perfectly fine! Just... a bit under the weather is all."

"Are you sure? I believe it would be in your best interest to see the nurse."

"I'll be j-just fine. I just need to relax a bit more."

Oh, he'll relax alright.

The professor dismisses him without another word, ending his lecture and instructing the class to continue reading the rest of the chapter on their own. Satan sits with a shaky sigh, cheeks flushed from embarrassment and sweat dripping down his face. He surely intends to show you who's in charge when the two of you get home, but as for now, you're the one holding the metaphorical leash.

As soon as he's relaxed enough, you decide it's time to up your game. Without any warning, your nose is pressed up against his torso, his dick down your throat as far as it can reach. It's a miracle how you can keep quiet with all the spit and the pace you're bobbing your head. He's digging his claws into the seat of his chair now, surely leaving deep cuts that go against the grain of the wood.

He's so fucking close to reaching a peak. Satan hides his head in his arms, forehead pressing against the cool lumber next to his open textbook. Tears prick the corners of his eyes as he struggles to resist coming undone. All he needs is just a bit more. He's torn between wanting to finish and wanting to maintain his dignity in front of his peers, but there's only so much he can do when you're sucking his soul out so feverously.

Satan gives up. He gives up almost completely as his body begins to shake and his claws dig further into the dark oak of his desk. He lets out a sharp whimper, filling your throat with a flowing white river. His classmates and professor look at him, concerned for his wellbeing.

Satan is panting, shaking, barely holding himself together at this point. He pants and takes a few deep breaths to catch his own before looking up at the professor.

"Satan? I do believe you'd better go to the nurse before your condition worsens."

You're quick to clean him up and fix his clothing. Satan's still shaky but agrees with the professor after noticing nothing would be amiss if he chose to stand, thanks to you.

"You're right, Professor. I'll be heading there at once. I-I apologize for concerning you all."

He gathers his belongings and shakily exits the classroom without another word. Some students utter words of concern as his legs threaten to give out with every step. You have no choice but to remain silent in place until the end of the lecture, only able to escape the room once all the other students and the professor have left first.

As the last of the students leave, you join the endless sea of demons and other magical beings flooding the halls between classes. You make your way to the nurse's office, deciding to check and see if your friend is "recovering" alright. Satan's in the third bed, closest to the wall and farthest from the door. The nurse is out for a moment, not an unusual circumstance considering it's their lunch hour.

"You! You almost got us caught with your little stunt in there! I can't believe you had the... the... the audacity to go that far! I didn't expect you to continue until I finished! We're unbelievably lucky the professor mistook me for being unwell."

Satan sighs as you draw closer and sit on the edge of his bed, taking his hand and bringing it to cup your cheek. He brushes his thumb over your cheekbone, sighing.

"Well... I suppose it wasn't all bad. That was... exhilarating, to say the least, even if it may be a bit troublesome to deal with the aftermath. Maybe this sort of thing wouldn't be bad every once in a while. I'm glad we got to explore this side of our relationship together."

He always gets so sweet and sappy after he's coming down from a high. It's sweet. He's always going on about how much he loves you and how he's so happy you both can be as rough or as gentle as the other needs them to be. Unfortunately for him, you're not ready to be sappy. There's still one more thing on your mind, and it's back in his pants.

You stand and pull the privacy curtain shut, closing the view of the bed off from the rest of the world. He stammers, questioning exactly what it is you're doing, a tiny glint of fear peaking through his normally collected demeanor. You turn towards him once more, staring him down as a cat does an injured mouse.

Your pants and undergarments hit the cold tile of the infirmary floor. You climb onto his bed, legs straddling his thighs as you pull his pants and boxers low enough to expose his half-hard cock. He's visibly excited, but his long refractory period prevents him from standing at full attention for a few more minutes. No matter, you reposition your core and take him in completely.

His growling and whining resurface and he lets out an unrestrained moan that fills the room. It's fortunate you two are the only ones in the infirmary, otherwise, there would have been no hiding exactly what's happening behind the thin white linen walls.

You grind against him with every drop of your hips, the pace unbearably fast as his erection continues to harden within you. Your nails dig into his chest, and his own claw at the sheets of the bed, eager to grab hold of something but not wanting to hurt you. He doesn't trust himself not to dig his claws into those thighs he loves so much when he can't even be bothered to restrain his voice for the moment.

Incoherent, muffled voices outside the door begin to grow louder as passing students flood the halls on their way to their dorms and extracurriculars. The only thing you're concerned with is riding him like the insatiable, cock-hungry animal you've become.

"Please! Ngh, fuck! I'm about to cum again! You need to slow down before-- Ah!"

Fuck his moans are beautiful. They start off melodic and end with an enticingly lewd growl. You didn't know he could be this expressive in bed before today. He's practically begging for mercy, still sensitive from the classroom shenanigans.

You do not grant it.

Satan's back arches and his hips thrust upward into you as he orgasms a second time. You're lifted up as his hips stutter beneath you, voice filling the room with lewd curses strung together as his eyes roll to the back of his head and the sheets begin to tear under his grip. He begins to still after a few moments, but you don't stop. You don't even slow down.

Satan's hands frantically look for anything to ground himself, worsening the tears in the fabric below him. His frantic gaze lands on the pillow lying underneath his head. He grabs at it, hoping for something to help relieve the intensity of the high you're pushing him towards, but in his overstimulated and careless state, he can't control his own strength. It takes mere seconds before there's a mess of feathery down and fabric scraps surrounding the head of the infirmary bed.

His eyes are starting to glow. Feathers are pushing out sporadically against the skin around his neck. Horns pierce through the golden hair on his crown His canines are growing sharper and his growls start sounding far less than human. There's not much left of his ability to control himself, though with you there was hardly ever any to begin with.

His claws slip from the mangled mess of a pillow and find their way to your hips, digging his nails into your sides and rutting up into your core; fucking his seed deeper without the restraint he desperately clung to before. His speed is almost unbearable. The way his cock drills into all the right places has you seeing stars and crying his name in response.

The thrusts are losing their regularity. Hips stuttering and nails threatening to pierce the soft skin of your hips, Satan bites down on his own lip until he's the one bleeding; filling you for a third time this afternoon.

It's almost unbearable. With the way his cum flows out of you like a river, you're mindlessly thanking yourself for having the foresight to make sure neither of you were still wearing your uniform pants.

With shaky legs and sweat covering both of your bodies, you fall to the side to catch your breath, grabbing some nearby tissues and cleaning the both of you up enough to at least redress before someone walks in and manages to put two and two together.

Satan's head flops to the side to gaze at you; chest heaving with every breath.

"Haah--that was... that was amazing." A hand comes up to push back his golden locks to unobscure bright green eyes, softening as they settle upon your glowing form.

His hand comes to rest gently against your cheek as he tilts your chin for a tender kiss, wanting to cherish this moment. As much as you want to indulge him and relish this moment, the growing sound of clicking heels interrupts the saccharine air of your post-orgasm bliss.

You shoot out of his infirmary bed, standing up straight and wiping the remaining sweat off your face in a flash, just in time for RAD's nurse to pull back the curtain and stick a thermometer in his mouth without a word. A minute passes silently without them acknowledging your presence. until the thermometer's beep cuts through the still air.

"Hm." The nurse pulls the thermometer out of his mouth and jots down the reading onto their clipboard.

"Professor called ahead for this one. Sweating, flushed cheeks, heavy breathing, abnormal behavior in class, sluggish and lethargic disposition. Sounds like a classic fever." The nurse turns towards you.

"You live in the same building, correct? Make sure he gets home safe and gets plenty of rest and fluids. He should be fine by Monday if he listens and takes some standard fever-reducing medicine from the drugstore. He's to stay strictly on bedrest until he can stand without losing his balance. "

"Oh don't worry. He'll definitely be getting that bedrest."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Tags: @snowsnetwork

[beast-towers]

As promised.~

Part 1 of Clashing World

The night brought another uneasiness in the air… causing almost all of the Beasts to bunker down to defend their chosen rides they have to protect, yet one stuck her nose up in the air to figure out the situation… Wicker Man’s young Beast Guardian, Uri, has decided to investigate the strange happenings… and what she found may forever shake her very soul. She never expected to find her fellow Beast Guard holding an unknown “Stain” within them, yet it felt almost… familiar? As if she felt this same darkness before… or something she was taught to remember by her Grandmother who slain-

No! Enough! IT has emerged out from the shadows!

Uri jumped back from shock to see a bigger and meaner looking Werewolf, Otsana! Dawning her purple stripe from the tip of her forehead to her back fur, even her tail held the same purple underneath. Bulkier with her new strength as new fangs flashed under the dim light of the park lights, and seeing what use to be darkened eyes now fully dominated by a eerie purple… Otsana, now standing tall with might. Glared down to the young female Shiftwalker, yet this causes Uri to stand her ground, she has fought scarier Paranormal Creatures in the past, and this one is no different. Quickly hatching a plan: knock the She-Wolf out and find a way to heal her! Easy, right?… Let alone, Uri KNOWS what Otsana can do…so this has to be easy… Right?

Well…. The two fought…. and now….

I want to thank you all so much for the patience! I do hope you enjoy this while I’ll complete my final page! I hope y’all enjoy this and I hope y’all have an awesome day.

After I release the final half, I’ll explain more about the Beasts’ powers and abilities, and I’ll also explain the inspiration of the comic idea! Alrighty, laters!