#we’d all be clawing the walls

[watchyourbuck]

No wait bc Ryan Guzman posted pictures with long hair,,,, can y’all imagine the amount of damage that sight would do to Evan Buckley ????

[avocado-writing]

Hi Avo! Could you please consider writing a protective poly logan and wade x reader? Maybe something happens they weren’t there but when they show up deadpool is distracting/comforting the reader and logan is going ham on the enemy. ploy or separate is up to you!

Just a thought! Enjoying your work as always! ✨anon

deadpool: look how I spell it “grey” because the writer is english! Crazy logan: what?

It’s Logan who sweeps you up. You know it is, because he’s a solid wall of a man under your hands where you’ve buried into him. His chest is warm and reassuring; you focus on it, trying to ground yourself even though you can taste your pulse thrumming in terror.

“It’s okay, baby. We’ve got you,” he mutters under his breath, a growl in your ear, a tender little secret of his softness shared between the two of you. 

It had all been so sudden. You’d been taking the shortcut home after going shopping for tonight’s dinner when you’d felt someone grab you. Tomatoes had rolled across the ground, cans denting loudly as they fell, and you’d been dragged towards the back of the van as your captors loudly discussed if they had the right person. They said something about you fucking two mutants, and the bile with which they had spat it chilled you. 

You’d been certain you were going to die. Cold fear flooded you, your eyes squeezed closed tight. Please, don’t let Logan and Wade find my body. They won’t be able to take it. If these guys are gonna kill me, let me just disappear. 

Then again, that was before the claws came through the metal of the roof and all hell had broken loose. Guns went off and you screamed, unsure if they were Wade’s or not - but strong arms had picked you up and hauled you to safety. 

You feel yourself being passed to someone else, Logan pushing you into Wade’s grip and giving him strict instructions to look after you, then he’s gone. The sounds of violence continue and, without thinking, you turn to look. 

“Oh, no, honey, you don't need to see that. That’s just… plain disgusting,” says Wade, grimacing, “even looking at this mess is better than seeing what Peanut’s doing to those guys.”

Upon the word ‘mess’, he gestures to himself. Despite your heart hammering against your ribs, you reach up to press your hand against his cheek. 

“Don’t talk about yourself like that, Wade. You came to save me.”

A flit of confusion crosses his face, knocking his usual bravado. 

“You thought we’d just let them bundle you into their ‘not allowed within five hundred feet of schools’ van and disappear? Give us some credit. We’re not white knights, but we’re at least, y’know, morally grey knights.”

He says this to make you laugh, and it works. You’re distracted as the sounds of screams literally die out and Logan stalks back over. You see him removing his jacket to hide the blood on it from you. It’s still spread across his knuckles, though, a masterpiece of the revenge he just enacted. 

“Don’t worry about them. They won’t be bothering you again,” he says with an air of finality. His hand raises to cup your face, so gentle with you, such a contrast to moments before. His voice is laced with a tenderness when he asks, “you doing okay?”

You nod. Yeah. With them here, you are doing okay. 

“Thanks,” you manage, shakily, adrenaline leaving your body to give way to fat, rolling tears of relief. Not missing a beat, Wade looks Logan up and down. 

“Hey, there’s still some viscera on your shirt, Peanut. Maybe you should take that off, too?���

“Watch it, bub,” he growls, but you can tell his heart isn’t really in it. They’re both just thankful that you’re safe. 

Your heroes, both of them. Morally grey or otherwise.

[bottomcyclonus]

My sister is a total cunt and around when we were kids, 12 (her) and 15 (me), she became a really big fan of that Jesus guy, but in a ‘if you wear lipstick that’s TOO red you’re clearly a whore who is doing naughty things with the devil’ and ‘all “dark” animals like black cats, snakes, rats, spiders, and bats were sent by the devil himself”. W e had an older home, and the way it was set up is that one of our vents had a chute that went over the porch, and you could look down it and see basically right over the porch itself. This is relevant because I, at the time, really wanted a cat and our parents were considering it. However, cheese cunt (my nickname for her which she hated <3) saw me looking at an adoption page for a black cat. She absolutely lost it and said that I was trying to bring the devil into our home and that I was going to hell and that that cat was evil and going to claw out my eyes in my sleep. We got in a BIG fight over that. By the time we moved out there were still puncture marks in the wall from where she went at me with a fork. Back to the porch and vent. Kind of. I _needed_ to get this bitch, so I recruited two of my good friends who I knew would be ready to commit a fuckery. One of them had a pet snake (which I think she found in her yard and abducted adopted) and she fed him frozen mice and whatnot. Obviously we weren’t going to involve her snake, but the frozen mice? Those were fair game. Her job was to bring the mice and help behind the scenes. My other friend, he’s a big guy, intimidating if you don’t know him, *his* job was to be the devil. We’d found a dead bat in my attic (again old house) and made it look alive with popsicle sticks, then tied it to a string wound through the vent. We planned the fuckery for when our parents were staying at a hotel for their anniversary, so we were home alone all weekend. We had a pizza box as bait outside, with the frozen mice inside arranged in a pentagram. My guy friend was dressed up in a stereotypical grim reaper outfit, big black cloak, white ghoulish face, lantern, the works. We waited around until night, then he rang the door bell and hid, with the pizza box left on the porch, just far out enough that you would have to step outside. Me and my friend were in the bathroom when then happened so that my sister would have to go look. In reality, she was waiting above, ready with the bat, and I was hiding behind the garage door, which was right next to our front door. The moment I hear my sister let go of the door I gently closed it and locked it on her. I heard her scream and the sound of her dropping the pizza box, which was my friends cue to drop the bat on her and dance it around. At this point she’s freaking out and trying to get back inside, screaming and shrieking. I turn off the porch light, and from the shadows across the street, emerges my friend, face dimly lit by the lantern in his hand. I had to muffle my laughter with my fist in my mouth cause my sister is yelling like she’s going to die, which yeah, I can see her thinking that. All my friend had to do was walk across the street and point at her to get her to start crying, and she bolted into our backyard, where she tried to get in through the back door that was unfortunately for her, locked, courtesy of me. We made her stay out there for an hour or so, giving us time to put everything back to normal and sober ourselves up from laughing so hard. Then I let her back in and acted like I didn’t know anything. We got the cat and I named him Pizza.

THIS IS A TRANSFORMERS BLOG

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Long Snake Moan 8

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Loki

Summary: your boss gives you a task you’re not prepared for.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Your clothes hang off of your body, a slake of sweat running down your thighs and stomach. You’re not sure how you’ve ended up this way, legs curled around Loki as he pins you to the wall.

The office lights blaring outside your eyelids. His breath plumes into your scalp as he presses his nose into your hair. You tilt your hips as your overwrought nerves cluster and ping off each other.

Another orgasm swells in the ebb and flow of pleasure. Minutes, hours, days, you don’t know how long you’ve been at it. 

It’s another of his tricks. The way he uses your body against your mind. How he can twist your desire like a cage around your reticence. 

“Mm, darling,” he slithers, “shall we go home?” 

He doesn’t stop his steady thrust as he speaks, a hand under your ass and the other on the back of your neck. He dips his head down to nib at your ear lobe. 

“Home?” You murmur dumbly. What does he mean? 

“As man and wife...” he puffs along your throat, “yes, darling, I think it’s time.” 

You push your head back as his lips tease your skin. You hate how he makes your insides rend. You clutch his shoulder and whine. You squeeze him tighter with your legs, hooking your feet together to keep him locked in. 

“A little more,” you rasp to your own horror. 

He snickers, “I never said we’d stop.” 

Confounded by his words, you flick your eyes open and a sudden flash of green paints your world. You feel a lurch around you. It’s as if you’re plummeting for that split second, then the world still again.  

Loki falls onto you. A silky sheet tickles your back beneath the crumpled fabric of your loose blouse, hanging at your elbows. Your shorn skirt fans out under your legs as Loki carries his motion, not missing a beat as the walls around you appear anew. 

Your head lolls as you take in your new surroundings. Behind the green tint, there’s something family. You can’t think. You don’t care where you are, you just care about that spiralling coil inside of you. You clasp onto Loki’s neck and sink your nails in, pushing your pelvis up to take him in. 

You cum again. Shaking violently as you’re battered in the eruption of hot and cold. Your arm splays limp and dangles over the edge of the sofa. Loki persists as you tremble helplessly.  

As you wade in the afterglow, fighting the tiding of yet another orgasm, your eyes flit around. This... this is your apartment. How-- 

You slap his shoulder and cough, “Loki, stop--” 

“Darling, I’m nearly--” 

“I don’t care, get--” 

He rams into you and your voice shrivels up. You drop your head down and gnash your teeth. He ruts into you furiously as he snakes his hand up to cover your mouth. He pumps into you as he pants against your cheek, muttering a flow of sultry delight. 

“Mmm, darling, just you try to get away,” he snarls, “I feel you clinging to me. You want me, hmm?” His taunts peter out into thick grunts and groans and he sinks his head down to growl against the cushions. 

A warmth blooms in you as he spasms and pushes himself into his limit. You twitch at the fullness and claw at his back. Fuck. As much as you hate that he’s right, he is. You don’t think you could make him get off. 

He finally stills but that urgent need does not. It’s a low buzz in your pelvis but you feel it pulsing, waiting to thrum again. You blink and take in what you can of your apartment.

Your plain white curtains are now green satin, around a nightscape that assure you of hours of torture. The walls, usually just as bland, are painted with gold and green trim and your eyes narrow on the snake ornament mounted on the wall with-- 

Huh! 

You tap Loki’s shoulder frantically, “get off, get off.” 

“Darling?” He mutters. 

“I mean it, off.” You try to push him and groan at the effort as your walls squeeze him. “Ayeee.” 

“Mmm, as you wish, dear wife.” 

He slides out of you and a full-body shudder constricts your muscles. You grit through the emptiness and sit up. You nearly tumble off the edge of the couch at the dizziness. You look down at your ruined clothes, barely hanging onto your figure. Fuck. 

You stand and squeak at the tenderness between your legs. You cup your pelvis and limp, your other hand on your forehead. You squint at the metal plate on the wall with the snake curved in an infinity sign. Between each loop, are a set of initials; his and yours. 

You pause and glance around again. You look at Loki as he works at untangling his dark hair. He is entirely too comfortable right now. 

“What did you to my place?” You accuse. 

“Our place,” he insists and sends you a smirk. 

You stare back at him. Your eyes threaten to stray down. His shoulders and chest are forged in muscle and as much as you didn’t ask for any of this, you can’t deny his boasting is mostly true. It makes you hate him more that he was honest in that sense after being so deceitful. 

You press your hands to your temples and his own eyes drift down. A cold wash flows through you as he purrs and you drop your arms. You pull your blouse up your shoulders and do up the only remaining button. Then you wrap your torn skirt and wrap it around yourself.. 

“I need a shower,” you hobble across the floor. 

“A wonderful idea, I shall join you.” He stands, shamelessly naked. You can’t pick out in the chaos of the afternoon when he stripped off every piece. Given how he can throw you through time and space, it probably isn’t much effort for him. 

“That wasn’t an invitation,” you stay far from him as you walk faster. “I need space. I need to think.” 

You hurry down the hall and shut the door before he can catch up. You growl at the sight of the bathroom. Green tile, green towels. He’s taken over more than your body but your entire life. You huff and shuffle forward to the shower and pull open the curtain. As you do, you shriek in horror. 

He reaches up to grip the metal bar and smirks down at you, “dirty mortal,” he tuts. “Time to get washed up.” 

[marlynnofmany]

Catching Things in Zero-G

“Reach over the border,” Captain Sunlight directed the Frillian twins. “Make sure they’re touching the floor when they cross into gravity.”

I watched from well out of the way as Blip and Blop nodded, holding muscular arms out for the oncoming guests. No one here was new to gravity fluctuations, but that didn’t mean they were fun.

The first person to cross from the damaged ship to ours was a bright red Heatseeker whose name I’d forgotten. He stumbled a bit on landing, grateful for the assistance. Blip and Blop released his hands when he was stable, looking like parents helping their lizardy toddler off a swing set.

Hard on his heels was Bopburt, the big gray Strongarm whose name I did remember (along with his extreme and hilarious dislike for pizza, from when I’d talked him into trying it that one time). I’d worked briefly on that ship before getting a more long-term position on this one. Nobody had changed since then. Bopburt was still a bigger octopus alien than the Strongarms on our ship. He was surprisingly talented at navigating in zero-g, though.

“No need,” he said, waving a tentacle at the waiting hands. He launched off the wall and landed with a splat just on this side of the seam between airlocks. “Thanks, though. They’ll want help with the cargo. Ah, here we go.”

He tentacle-walked over to stand near me as several other crewmates appeared at the hatch with an expensive-looking shipping crate. I couldn’t tell how heavy the thing was about to be, but it was a cube about the size of the bedside table in my quarters, and it shimmered with pearlescence. Even the label on the top was embossed in gold, matching the seam around the edges. Four different crewmates worked together to guide it oh-so-gently toward our ship.

“What’s in it?” I asked Bopburt. “Do you know?”

He made a rude noise. “Clients wouldn’t say. Rich jerks.”

Captain Sunlight watched with concern. “Is it heavy? Should we get a hoversled?”

“No, just don’t drop it.”

“Right.”

There were far too many people involved already, so we just watched as the whole procession made their way awkwardly through the airlock. Captain Kamm showed up during all this, along with the rest of their crew waiting to cross over. She and Captain Sunlight started a conversation over everyone else’s heads.

It was getting crowded. I moved back toward the hallway, where a few of my own crewmates had gathered to greet the guests. It’d been a while since we’d seen our sister ship, and while a damaged gravity generator wasn’t the best of circumstances, it was still nice to visit.

A furry shape trotted past my ankle. I scooped up the cat before she could get in the way. “Hang on there, Telly. You don’t want to get stepped on. I know it all smells new and interesting.”

Telly ignored me, watching the proceedings with great interest. Her mismatched eyes were wide, and she didn’t react when I ruffled her two-toned fur. This was more focus than new arrivals usually got. She hadn’t run out the airlock yet, but there’s always a first. I kept a close eye on her.

“What kind of animal is that?” Bopburt asked, looking up at the tense shape in my arms.

“A cat,” I said. “Humans keep them for companionship and…”

Telly was chattering — that distinct “I see prey” noise.

I turned toward the hall, but too late. She launched off with a kick to my ribs and flashed toward the gravity barrier.

“Telly, no!” I exclaimed, like that had stopped any cat ever.

Some crewmates looked up at me while others jumped aside with startled noises. Blip nearly caught her, which was pretty impressive honestly, but Telly jumped right past and into the other ship. She immediately careened toward the far wall, meowing and clawing at the air.

“Sorry, I’ll get her!” I dodged through the crowd. “I don’t know what she’s going after.” I ignored the conversation behind me and dove into the zero-g. It was just as disorienting as it always was, but I was heading in the right direction.

I caught up to Telly in midair where she’d bounced off the wall and been unable to catch anything with her claws. Those claws immediately tore into my sleeves, leaving more than one scratch that would probably need to get patched up, but I was busy offering comforting noises as I focused on holding her close with my arms while getting my feet into position to hit the wall.

I landed gently, making sure to take it slow before pushing back off, and in that half-breath pause, I saw something skitter past. “Ah!”

“What is it?” called Captain Sunlight.

“Something moved!” said, trying to look for it while shuffling the cat to get an arm free, and also searching for a handhold before I drifted away from the wall. I found a little hook that had probably held decorations once, and that was good enough. I clutched it tight. Telly tried to scramble onto my shoulder. I did my best to hold her in place. The creature had disappeared.

But Telly was chattering again, looking at the ceiling.

Somebody shouted about wire-eating pests. More people were coming back over the gravity barrier, a jumble of motion and urgent conversation about which tools had the best shot at catching something so fast.

“That’s why the gravity’s out! I knew it wouldn’t fail suddenly!”

“Do gravity wands work in zero-g?”

“Better to use a stun gun. Just nobody shoot anyone else.”

“What about that net in the cargo hold? We could—”

I tuned it all out when I spotted the thing Telly was chattering at. It was a flat little silvery beastie with lots of tiny legs and segmented plates on its back, every bit the kind of thing I could see wreaking havoc in the guts of a spaceship. It clung to the ceiling with stillness that could break into astonishing speed in an eyeblink.

The wall below it had pipes sticking out, curving into the living space in the type of ship design that was a little unsightly but immensely useful right now.

With one hand firmly holding Telly against my shoulder and the other on the hook, I turned in the zero-g until I could stick a foot through the loop of pipes. Then I used both hands to grab Telly, holding her out in front of me as I did a sit-up toward the ceiling. “Get it, girl!”

Telly didn’t disappoint. The thing saw her coming and tried to dash away, but she twisted in my grasp to launch off my wrist in a way that was incredibly painful but worth it. She snatched it off the ceiling and brought it to her mouth with a crunch of exoskeleton that I could hear from there.

Then she dropped it, shaking her head in comical disgust as the crowd cheered. Somebody caught it easily. I caught Telly before she could fully realize she was drifting again. After that, it was just a matter of making my way back to gravity without use of my arms. I ended up crowd-surfing, which wasn’t my plan at all, but everyone was appreciative and eager to help.

When I got my feet back under me, the first thing I did was find Eggskin the medic. “Was that safe for her to bite? She doesn’t usually react like that.” Telly wasn’t trying to jump free, busy licking a paw with vigor.

“Yes, I remember it from her original bio scans,” Eggskin told me. “Definitely on the safe list. These are a known pest with a strong flavor. They’re actually a sought-after delicacy in some circles.”

Eggskin was also the cook, which had seemed strange when I first joined the crew, but it made perfect sense these days.

“Oh good,” I said. “All right, kitty, great job. I’ll get you some treats to take the taste out of your mouth, okay?”

Captain Kamm appeared at my elbow, standing on the tips of her tentacles to get a good look at Telly. “Does your little predator like fish?”

“She does!” I said.

“Then we will be happy to reward her with some.” She waved a tentacle at a maroon-and-teal Frillian who was carrying a mesh bag of various things. “It’s the least we can do after she caught the source of our woes. Thank all the stars that it’s a small one, not old enough to spawn more.”

“Hey captain!” someone yelled. “There’s a gap in the seam of that expensive crate! And the bio-scanner shows traces of droppings!”

“More excellent news,” Captain Kamm said with an angry smile.

Captain Sunlight asked, “That crate has a scanner block, doesn’t it? No way to scan for hitchhikers.”

“Oh yes it does,” Captain Kamm confirmed. “How kind of that pest to leave its droppings by the hole where we can detect and record them.”

“They signed a waiver, right?”

“Oh yes.”

When I realized that the rich jerks had set themselves up for paying to repair the gravity generator that their negligence had damaged, I broke into a grin as well. “Such great news!”

Telly moved again, making me tighten my grip instinctively, but it was just to get at the tray of fish chunks that the Frillian was holding out. I took the tray and held it for Telly to eat from. She made some adorable happy noises.

“So you were about to say,” Bopburt said, “That humans keep these creatures for companionship and, and I think I’ve figured out the other thing.”

“Yup,” I agreed. “Valuable predator services.”

“You’re bleeding a bit there.”

“Ah, it’s not the first time. Worth it.”

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series)

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI

Chapter 014: The Tap Out

So you finally managed to tear down the walls of Eddie’s cynical heart and steal it… Of course it only makes sense that he returns the favor, by ravaging your walls as well. *wink wink*

author’s note ✍🏼 : this initially was supposed to be merged with chapter 15, but they’re two completely different vibes so it felt wrong putting them together. so enjoy this short chapter :)

this chapter can be read as a stand alone (but we’d love to have you aboard)

* = somewhat smut

** = smut

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014**, 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

word count: 1.0k words

NSFW — unprotected p in v sex (wrap before you tap pls), around the house fucking, multiple positions, against the wall and floor stuff if you squint, eddie has a mirror on his ceiling HELLO, voyeurism, praise kink, size kink, eddie is a veiny man 🫠, squirting, shy girl taps out, eddie finishing on shy girl

“Gonna put your legs behind your head when I make you wet the bed.”

♡

Touch-starved kisses.

Heavy panting and petting. Urgent, cat-like scratches etched around the door by a finicky brass key...

You'd think that the Harrington-Munson estate had been ransacked, judging by how carelessly you and Eddie flung yourselves — and your clothes — around the place. The 10 minute drive from Hellfire to here was far too long for you both to handle.

"Mmm.”

You let out a soft, pleading whimper as your man pins you against the wall, his large hands just inches away from your pulsing neck.

“Missed you,” Eddie breathes. “Miss being inside you so bad.”

“We literally just fucked at Hellfire half an hour ago.”

“Your point?”

You two are now approaching round three with no intention of stopping. Like an adrenaline rush, a shot of espresso, a sugar high from alcohol, you’re itching to run headfirst into the high that has been taunting you, despite having already been fucked to exhaustion. But eventually, it builds.

It builds when you’re getting split open in the kitchen, bent over with your tits pressed against the cool marble island. You’re selfishly perusing your edge so frantically, Eddie eventually resorts to standing in place, his hands rubbing your asscheeks in admiration while you use his stiff cock to get yourself off. “That’s right, Princess. Keep fucking yourself into me. Use me all you want, baby. Mmm, just like that.”

It builds when you’re getting it on the couch, chanting Eddie’s name aimlessly into the air as you ride him, his eyes burning with lust as he watches your perky tits bounce in his face. “Doing so good, sweetheart. There we go. Bet this is your favorite pole to ride on, isn’t it?”. It especially builds when you switch from a straddle to reverse cowgirl, chasing your aching bud’s pleasure against the singular protruding vein that rested along Eddie’s lengthy shaft.

"Mmm… oh my god," you whimper, when your core retrieves the sensation. “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie…”

“Shit, honey,” Eddie grunts. “Gonna make me cum when you cry out my name like that..”

And when you two sink to the floor, it builds there too.

It’s a struggle to keep your eyes open, the way they’ve resorted to rolling back as you attempt to handle Eddie balls deep, his girth and length making you claw at his thighs, the pathetic bargaining and squealing spilling out of your mouth becoming synchronous with every aggressive thrust.

You’re wrapped around his cock so tight it makes him tremble and twitch.

“Feel so tight around me, baby…”

“Taking me so good.”

“My sexy girl. God, you’re so wet. Gonna cum on me again, huh?”

“Oh, my beautiful girl liked that one didn’t she?”

My girl, my girl, my girl.

Eddie had been chanting those words all night…as if he himself didn’t believe it. As if he was trying to convince himself it was true and not just a dream.

And now you can hardly contain it anymore, ascending to another dimension when Eddie bends you like a pretzel in his bed, pummeling into you in missionary like he still hates you.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Eddie shouts as he continues to thrust deeper. “My darling girl, you feel so good… you’re killing me here.”

You bite into his pecks to keep your screaming at a minimum. And when your eyes travel up to the ceiling, the glistening reflection catches you by surprise.

“Oh wow,” you pant as you observe.

Eddie takes a break from his bliss to glance over at where you’re looking. Satisfied with himself, and his kinks that he enjoys putting on display, Eddie smirks down at you.

“Getting a good look at that mirror, Princess?” he quips, leaving gentle kisses around your chin.

“Mhm,” you grin as you bat your lashes.

“Wanna tell me what you see then, darling?”

Slam. He pummels into you again. This time, the pace is unforgiving. Eddie rests both forearms at each side of your face, harboring you in place, keeping you still so he can achieve his own release.

Because he knows. He knows that yours is near.

“I see me,” you whimper pathetically.

“Mhm,” Eddie nods in approval. “And what’s happening to you, darling?”

“ ‘m getting pounded by Eddie,” you pout.

“Yes you are,” Eddie moans. “That’s you taking all of my cock, sweetie, you see that? You like watching yourself get fucked huh?”

“Y-yes,” you squeal. “I’m taking you so good.”

“Yes you are,” Eddie repeats. “I’m so proud of you, baby.”

"Oh my god.."

You’re really at the end now. You slap Eddie’s thighs frantically, pleading with your quivering lips for him to pull out before you flood his sheets. Initially, he doesn’t listen.

"Agh!" you shout.

"Shit!"

"FUCK!”

“Oh my god..”

“Please, Eddie, Please,” you cry out. “I can’t take it, I can’t take it, Eddie. Fuck… pull out!”

Eddie immediately retreats upon hearing those words, clearing his path as you soak his sheets and his thighs. He resorts to kissing your chin again as he finishes himself on your stomach, chuckling as your legs involuntarily shake underneath him.

“Are you okay, sweetie?”

“Mhm,” you nod alas when you come to.

“Thank you for saying something,” he grins sweetly. “That was a lot huh?”

You nod again. “Mhm.”

He kisses you again, smacking his lips in rhythm with yours whenever you permit. And as you pull away, he grabs your hand, kissing the back of it ever so delicately as well.

“We should get some sleep anyways,” he smiles. “We’ve been up all fucking night.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I know. Busy day ahead too.”

And with that, Eddie pulls you close and tosses a few blankets over you two. You sink back into his chest as he spoons you, arms resting around your waist and rubbing your stomach tenderly as he finds himself drifting into his other dream world. You wish to lay here forever.

Your eyes scan Eddie’s room one last time before they close. A part of you almost giggles when you see a pair of handcuffs hung up on one of his four walls.

"Nice cuffs," you comment sleepily.

Eddie laughs against your shoulder. He rubs your ass again.

"Just wait until we start roleplaying."

🏷️ tag list: @chrrymunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @hideoutside , @motherfckerr , @jxpsi , @lindseyj23, @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @justinelittlewoodsworld , @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse @kellyxo1 @emsgoodthinkin @winchester-angel @chloe-6123 , @redbarn1995 @angietherose @kiyastrf94 , @purplewitchcauldron @kellsck @joyfulfxckery @munsons-mayhem28 @dragonfire @emma77645 @drivelikenina @livosssblog @thinkingth0ts @hugdealer @ellielunamckay

[starlightsuffered]

Cuck in the Corner

Info - cucking, dark regulus, nerdy Barty, kidnapping via magic, cnc, dub con, fucking in front of someone, making someone watch, first time doing oral, uncut cock, anal, use of the word sodomy, humiliation, small mention of breeding kink

Regulus had been asking me obnoxious questions ever since I’d began dating Barty. Regulus and I had once been a thing, but I’d broken up with him when he’d taken the Dark Mark. I wished he would be loyal enough to pick me over that group of degenerates.

We’d hooked up a couple times since the break up. He always said that it was a mistake afterward. I would tell him I completely agreed, but in my heart I didn’t. I wished he plead for me back, want me enough to denounce the Dark Lord, and just be my Regulus again. He wasn’t mine anymore.

I had completely stopped the hook ups and decided to start going out with Barty Crouch. Barty was pretty nice and to my knowledge he wasn’t involved with the Death Eaters. When I’d turned Regulus down for a hook up last week, he had begun the questions.

“Have you and Barty had sex?”

“Is he uncut like me?”

“Has he made you cum?”

“Is he dominant?”

“Why are you moving so slow”

I tried not to answer them anymore. He would get these obnoxious, but sexy smirks when I commented on how slow we were moving. I pretended I liked it. Honestly, I didn’t. I was very sexual and it was killing me that Barty wanted to take things so slowly. I tried to convince myself that it was a good thing.

“Hello darling,” came a crooning voice. I opened my eyes. I was in Regulus’s Prefect dorm. He had his own room. I’d been in this bed many times, but I didn’t remember coming here this time.

I looked up to see my beautiful ex over me. His green/grey eyes were glittering with excitement. I heard a whimpering sound. I looked over to the corner and I saw Barty.

My boyfriend was chained to the wall. He was wandless and his mouth was tapped shut. He was in a gorgeous and likely extremely expensive chair.

“Regulus, what the fuck is happening?” I snarled.

“You told me you aren’t getting dick anymore, I thought you’d enjoy me giving Barty a tutorial of how to treat you,” he smirked.

“Excuse me?”

“Admit it, you want my thick, uncut, juicy cock,” he purred and a thrill did indeed go through me.

“Regulus,” I breathed. He smiled devilishly.

“You miss my seven inches don’t you?” He asked.

“B-Barty has eight inches,” I stuttered.

“Yet where is your hand?” Regulus asked me. I hadn’t even realised that my fingers were in the waistline of his pants. I felt wetness gathering in my pussy.

Regulus pulled his wand out and both our clothes were gone. His eyes devoured my body greedily. He licked his lips. His dick was already wet.

“You want my cock don’t you?” He asked.

“Yes,” I said without thinking.

“Then I guess cuck boy will watch me fuck you,” he said darkly and shoved himself inside me. I moaned. He was snapping his hips and the familiar warm lust filled me up.

He was ramming his dick deep inside me. I could already feel how much he leaked with precum, his uncut cock making it so much easier for it to drool.

“Tell him how good it feels,” Regulus demanded as he watched my fingers curl into the sheets.

“I’m s-sorry Barty,” I hiccuped. “I can’t help it. It feels so good. I just ohhhh, I just love it.”

“Yeah, you love it,” he goaded. I was whining. I was curling my toes. My nails ripped down his back.

Why did it turn me on that Barty was struggling. He was weeping in his bonds. I was wild. I’d admittedly never felt this good.

“You love my dick?” He asked.

“I fucking love your dick,” I sobbed.

“Maybe he is bigger, but he isn’t uncut. Every one of my precum drips is laden with precum. I could get you pregnant on fucking accident.”

“Yes yes, FUCKING YEs!”

I was lost in feeling. My nails clawed his back and he didn’t seem to mind that I was hurting him.

“You watching Barty? Huh, are you watching me fill her up cuck?” He asked. I shuddered all over at the word. That’s what we were doing. We were cucking someone.

“This is so wrong,” I whined.

“But it’s so fucking sexy. I bet you would have even made him wear a condom. I know you let me inside raw,” Regulus crooned.

The wet sounds were filling the room, overpowering any sound Barty made in protest. Regulus had always gotten wet but this was insane. I could tell he was extremely turned on and so was I.

“Her pussy feels so good Barty. She couldn’t help but cuck you. She can’t resist me,” Regulus explained as his cock moved faster inside me.

“Make eye contact with him. I want him to see the moment I unload inside you.

I wrapped my legs around Regulus’s waist. I managed to look over into my boyfriend’s eyes. He looked horrified. Fuck, why was that hot? Why did I like shocking people with perversion.

“She feels amazing Barty. Her snug cunt. It feels so good around my big cock. You’ll never fucking get this cuck,” Regulus groaned.

“Watch me fuck her Barty. Sit in the fucking corner and watch me fill, uhhh, her up,” his speech was faltering as we were both getting closer to our orgasm.

“Don’t pull out, I want to be full of you again,” I begged him.

“Oh yes! Y/n’s cunt is mine. You don’t fucking get this.”

“I’m going to come, I’m gonna come!” I cried.

“Hear those noises I’m making her do?” Regulus asked proudly.

“Oh fucking hell.”

“I’ve been in every one of her holes Barty, and you haven’t been in one.”

“I’m coming,” I nearly wailed. My vision blurred and my pussy throbbed as my orgasm took over. I did my best to maintain eye contact with Barty as I’d been told. I hadn’t had one this powerful in so long.

“Aw fuck yeah I’m gonna fill her up,” I heard Regulus say. Finally, hot spurts of cum were shooting inside me. I felt cum drunk as his huge, sticky, wet load drain inside me.

Regulus was climbing off me and going over to Barty. He grinned at my boy friend who had tears in his eyes. Regulus undid his bonds.

“You want her pussy don’t you?” He asked mockingly.

“Mmhmmm,” Barty nodded.

“The only way you should get it is if you’re licking my load out of it,” Regulus smirked.

“Come here darling,” Regulus called me. I struggled up and walked over to where they were.

I was shocked when I saw that Regulus was hard again. That man was one of a kind. He turned me around and ushered me towards Barty. Barty hesitantly licked his lips and moved forward. He put his mouth on my pussy.

He began to lick and lap. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feeling. He was definitely a beginner.

“That’s it cuck, clean up my mess,” Regulus chuckled. I felt his large hands on my ass. He was feeling me up. He spread my cheeks and slowly pushed his cock in my hole.

“Reg,” I moaned.

“Clean up my load, and listen to her moan as I sodomise her ass,” Regulus ordered. He was groping my breasts and nipping at my neck to mark me.

“S’not fair,” Barty whined. He had cum all over his lips from Regulus’s mess leaking out. My legs were shaking from how wrong the image was.

“Don’t you want pussy cuck?”

“Yes.”

“Then keep going.”

[yanderemommabean]

listen to me what if some alien researcher takes the reader to a human zoo type thing for research if you're comfortable with that momma

You’re terrified at first. You wake up in a large, wide glass case with these beings staring at you. You feel watched, like they’re wanting you to do a trick or something, and they simply chitter and chirp on the other side in a way you can’t decipher.

You look around, seeing a rather soft looking bed with basic blankets and sheets, what seems to be a treadmill and a table. On the wall to the left is a screen with what seems to be a feed of a field of flowers.

Before you can gather the courage to speak, the two beings on the other side tap on the glass, one entering with what seemed to be a collar like device.

“I’m sure you’re scared, poor neglected thing. Don’t worry, we’re here to show you the love you deserve. It’s alright now” they pacify, locking the device around your throat as you can only freeze and whimper in fear.

Their fingers gently run through your hair, petting you as they flash a sharp tooth smile. “You’re so precious to us. You’ll help us unlock all sorts of knowledge of the human body! Just behave and you’ll be just fine”.

Their fingers come to tilt your head, your mouth quivering as words finally manage to leave you. “Don’t kill me, please! Just let me go home!” You cry, heart hammering in your ears as your brain forces you to dissociate a bit and feel as if you’re in some fucked up movie.

The other creature enters at that, tugging the other back a bit as they chitter. “Ah. They say such things when distressed?” The first one asks between the odd noises.

Oh that’s so cute to learn! Humans make such interesting pleads when scared and confused! Like a lost little kitten or cub!

Perhaps you’ll show even cuter signals like when you’re fed or when you’re cozy? They’ve heard humans often smile and warm up when happy and relaxed!

Large fingers encircle your waist with ease, lifting you up and setting you on the bed provided. “Alright, it’s ok. My partner here tells me you think you’re in danger, but I assure you, you’re safer than back home. We only wish to learn and explore, and…well I myself am becoming attached”.

“N-no, no I don’t want this! Take this thing off of me!” You beg again, clawing at the device as it shocks you and makes you whimper at the sting. The being clicks and chitters, nuzzling you a bit as it pushes your hands to your side. “Ah ah ah, that’ll only hurt you. This must be so strange for such a simple creature, I can’t even imagine! But I suppose I can let an outburst or two slide. I’d hate to sedate you so early in studying you and your habits”.

Honestly, tranquilizers wouldn’t help in studying humans unless they wanted to go a more morbid route. It’s only to be used to help you from hurting yourself and others, but they aren’t fans of using it at all.

But sweet specimens as cute as you don’t need to know that. You’ll be clever and try and tug on their heart strings, and while they have two hearts, they’re brains are much more powerful. Not to mean they aren’t becoming very enamored, mind you.

“We’ll keep an eye on you for now. The others are just as torn up about being taken from home, you being such social beings and all. Try and behave is all we ask. If you try and take this off again-“ they gesture, as if it isn’t a huge deal. “You’ll be knocked unconscious by the voltage. Then we’d have to doctor you and…well I’m not sure I can keep my hands to myself with something so cute!”.

They leave from the bed after that, speaking with the other alien as the enclosure shuts and you’re left alone, watching other otherworldly forms pass by the corridor. Words have no ability to express the dread, horror, confusion and hopelessness you feel.

It looks like there’s nothing you can do but be an aliens toy, like some captive animal. Maybe if you’re clever you can escape, if you aren’t completely mentally broken soon.

((-Mommabean, I hope you enjoy! Sorry if it’s a bit jumbled and odd! ))

[somestorythoughts]

Eldritch Echo - Part 7

I return. There are explanations here! The kind that answer the what and not the why, but explanations nonetheless. Someone also asks if they can eat the Chancellor, but I promise he doesn't actually want to eat him. That much corruption definitely tastes nasty. Also @mezmatch I'm not sure if I've been tagging correctly but hope this is visible.

In Coruscant, CMO Blood ignores the way the wall across from him peels away from the emerging face with stone eyes and needle-long fangs. He’s stitching a gash in the leg of one of his Corries and isn’t about to pause to look at a dramatic ARC.

“Sitrep?”

“I’ve finished with the Guard. The slicers developed something, but they were debating how to send it out last night. I don’t know if they’ve decided yet. And you?”

“I’ve got the files. Three copies with me, three with the medics you directed me to on Kamino. You sure we can’t-”

“I didn’t know you wanted to be a cannibal so badly.”

“I don’t, I’m just saying that if we ate him we’d be extra sure he wouldn’t survive.”

“A beheading is just as effective and less gross.” Blood replied, leaving the unconscious vod so he could wash his hands. “Give me one of those copies and then keep yourself busy for the next two hours. The meeting is in two and a half, and we need you to play your part in this plan.”

ARC Trooper Fives grins, eager and angry. “Don’t worry Blood. I’ll be there.”

…

In the Marauder, Wrecker approaches Echo, who’s been reading for the past hour. “We’re gonna talk about what we know about your thing. I thought you’d want to know, and since you’d probably listen in anyway I should just invite you?”

“Thanks Wrecker.” Echo replies. He’d been listening to their conversations as much to know if they wanted to kick him out as to see how their investigation was going. As a twin he’s used to looking strange from time to time, but there’s strange and there’s forcibly and painfully altered before being used to kill vod. He’s growing comfortable with his new limbs and his new team, but he hasn’t fully reached comfortable yet. And he thinks it’s mutual, maybe especially now that he’s been messing with them.

But hiding it isn’t a long-term solution, not on a ship this small. The Bad Batch says they like weird. If they’re honest about that, his tendency to occasionally grow claws and turn blue shouldn’t be a problem.

He catches Hunter’s eye when he follows Wrecker in and the Sergent shrugs. Crosshair gives Echo his usual scowl, which he uses for everything from inconvenient terrain to burned coffee, so that’s probably not too bad. “Any chance you’ll just give us an answer?”

“It’s payback.” Echo grins, needle-sharp for all of a second. “For those two times you forgot I hadn’t memorized your plans yet. And the smell of the ship. It’s also entertaining.”

“Your plans are the same kind of crazy don’t deny it.” Hunter sighs. “Can you at least agree not to lie if we ask?”

“I never lied. Not for these questions.” And it’s true. Crosshair may have gotten nowhere with his questions, but every answer Echo had given had been either blatantly ridiculous or true but vague. He’d gotten a lot of entertainment out of it this week.

“We should start by reviewing what we know.” Tech states. “Echo has some form of deviancy from the Prime that expresses itself in multiple ways. They mostly appear to be physical but has also included using his shadow to eavesdrop and talk to us when he was in another room.” He paused, then glanced up. “Incidentally, could you use that to scout ahead?”

Echo made a so-so gesture. “Depends on the terrain. I wouldn’t recommend it over someone scouting ahead in person, but it’s helped before. And I’m not separate from my shadow, I can’t pay attention to what’s in front of me and what’s in front of my shadow at the same time.”

“That is good to know.” Tech replied. “We have seen multiple examples of your shape changing in small ways, not enough to indicate your limits, though from your comment about your prosthetics I believe you either cannot alter them or are still learning how to. Is that correct?”

“Yeah.”

“Could you elaborate?”

Echo tilts his head back, frowning. He’s tried to put words to this before, he likes words, and he’s trying to remember what he’d thought then. “The changing is a bit like a reflex. You can stop it – we all did our best too while we were on Kamino – but it’s also partly automatic. My body’s still adjusting to the prosthetics so they don’t change as much on their own, and I’m still adjusting mentally, so it takes a little more effort to do something like this.”

He raised his right arm. The scomp end split apart into something like a flower, Torrent blue with red stripes.

“There are more of you then.” Hunter states.

Echo smiled, bittersweet. The sweet glowed under his irises, the bitter ached in his throat and bruised his skin as if it was trying to do more than metaphorically suffocate him. “It’s never a good idea to assume you’re entirely alone in the universe. The first pair were decommissioned within their first year. The Kaminoans like uniformity, and from what Ninety-Nine told me that first pair was way off the mark. He said it was as if all of us that came later got the message somehow, our differences were quieter as tubies. But we’ve never adhered to uniformity well.”

Echo, who found comfort in the kind of quiet minute detail-work that was essential but considered boring, who had been threatened a time too many with decommissioning, and who was often overshadowed by his louder twin, had been an exception to that norm. Not anymore.

“And who’s we?” Crosshair asked.

As fun as this game has been, he might as well wrap it up. “We’re twins Crosshair. Myself and Fives, Cobalt and Cerulean, you know that absurdly cheerful medic in the 212th? He’s another.”

“But what is a twin when we’re all clones?”

Echo shrugged. “We just are. You know how you know how to reassemble a blaster, effortlessly and thoughtlessly? It’s like that but without the endless drills. Or the way most batches pick oldest and youngest by vibes. Each twin in a set was decanted on the same day, and when we find each other, we know. Fives I, I don’t remember meeting him and if he says he does he’s lying but, we’ve always known. Someone suggested there was Force stuff involved and it’s as good an explanation as any, but I don’t think any of us knows the why of it.”

Tech and Crosshair shared a glance before Tech said, almost hesitantly, “I read the report of ARC trooper Fives’ death. But you always talk about him in the present.”

Echo’s next breath shudders. “I, I would know. He’s the other half of my soul and I would know if he was truly gone. There was this shiny in Torrent a bit before the Citadel called Dogma. He’d lost his twin a few months before being sent out and I think the only thing keeping him going was his remaining batcher and his extreme loyalty to the Republic. He told him that he felt his twin die from all the way across Tipoca City. So I’d know.”

The squad glances at each other uncertainly and anything they might have said interrupted by a beeping from the console. Tech hurried to the pilot’s seat and Hunter sighed. “Mission time boys.”

Echo shoved up from the seat. Time to get to work.

[whumblr]

Bookish

The call of her name made her stop in her tracks, just a few paces beyond his open office door. Cautiously, she took the two steps backwards and arched her back to glance inside.

He sat at his desk, a soft scowl on his face as if she’d actively interrupted him. He’d probably looked up when he noticed her walk past. With a callous gesture of his hand he waved her in.

“What are you doing?”

“Just walking.” She stood rigid in front of his desk, forcing herself to make eye contact. As if she was trying to hide some form of guilt. Was she? Had she been caught doing something she shouldn’t? There was no rule for walking around this stupid house and if there was it was worth to pick a fight over. Maintaining eye contact, she silently dared him to start one.

A sly smirk started forming at his lips and he sat back, the leather chair creaking under his weight. “If you’re bored or otherwise unhappy with your time, I can think of some ways to spend it.”

“That’s not necessary. I’m not bored,” she said stone-faced, now knowing that there were 1185 bricks covering the bare walls of her room, 1054 tiles in the bathroom, and 86 ways to kill him in the cutlery drawer. 86 recipes for disaster. 86 ways for him to return the compliment. Whatever you wanted to call it.

He hummed and she could hear that he didn’t believe her.

Then, abruptly, he shoved his chair backwards and stood. “Come with me.”

She froze. “To the basement?”

“No,” he said, tone lightly exasperated and with a soft tsk. 

To her surprise, his hand merely brushed over her elbow as he walked past, a soft incentive to follow, instead of his usual death grip while dragging her along. She turned and cautiously went after him.

“I’d rather not have you clawing up the walls out of boredom,” he said, feeling around in his pocket and pulling out a key.

“Funny, I’d rather claw up something else.”

“My point...” They didn’t walk far. He opened the door next to his office, led her inside, and flicked on the light.

She couldn’t help a small gasp.

And for once during her extended stay here, it wasn’t in fear or dread.

With a soft “Oh” her eyes roamed over the absolutely stacked walls. Rows and rows of bookshelves crossed over the walls, from floor to ceiling, all filled to their utmost capacity but still neatly packed without clutter or stacked up books on top of each other. There wasn’t a bare speck of wall left.

In the middle of the room stood a large table to work on, but near the window in a little niche was a nice comfy leather armchair.

Who knew he was hiding a personal little library inside this prison he called a mansion…

“Most are on psychology and psychiatry, some physiology,” he said, letting his fingers slide over the spines absentmindedly, “but I gather you have an interest in that...” He glanced over his shoulder, eyes following her as she roamed about, her lips still parted in pleasant surprise.

Even if they were on bricklaying or motorbikes, this still beat sitting in a room staring at the wall and waiting for the next bout of pain. But yes, she had to admit, they had a common interest here.

“All these books,” she couldn’t help herself, “and you still haven’t found the one that explains what’s wrong with you.”

His lips tugged in a smile. He stepped forward and pulled out a book, casually handing it to her. “I thought we’d agreed on sadism.”

She accepted the book – Freud – turning it over and scanning the blurb. “Maybe I can find out by myself...”

“You’re welcome to spend your time in here. Just don’t make a mess, put everything back where it belongs. You can do that?”

She’d noticed everything was in alphabetic order and nodded absentmindedly, head tilted as her eyes roaming over the titles. “I can count to K.” She pulled out a book on physiology (always convenient to learn about some weak spots) and stacked it on the book he gave her.

“Know that this is a privilege,” he droned on. “It can be taken away again.”

"Yes, yes…” She didn’t ask what she’d done to deserve this. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Probably there was something in it for him – her not clawing his eyes out due to boredom, for example. Or maybe it was a good leverage point if she just refused to do as he said (again). Violence didn’t work (yet), but taking away something she loved… Well, she’d cross that bridge when they got there…

“And when I call for you, you will answer. I have a schedule to keep, after all.”

“What, you have a schedule for your torture times?”

“It’s more when the mood strikes. And I’m starting to get in the mood,” he finished in a dark tone.

She got the hint and remained silent, walking away from him and putting her stack of books down on the table with a heavy satisfying thud.

“No 'thank you'?” he murmured, but she ignored him, keeping her eyes and focus on the pages in front of her. “Well, I can always wring one out later…”

-

Continued here

Tagging: @firewheeesky @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @hold-back-on-the-comfort @whumpawink @painsandconfusion @scribbelle

[all-things-ghostly]

The Beast of the Blood Moon

Werebat! Alistair Crump x GN Reader

Warning! This fic probably isn’t going to be for everyone! Aside from the end, it’s a little dark - CW for somewhat graphic transformation (starts with the first ~~~ below the cut and ends at the second), Alistair having a bad time, animal death and consumption, blood, small reader injury.

~~~

Okay I was originally not gonna post this and just keep it to myself because I thought it was too niche but then I remembered what kinda people Alistair fans are and went through with it anyway LMAO

I apologize if it drags on or feels like a mouthful. I had used this as an opportunity to practice description-heavy fics instead of relying on dialogue so I don’t have as much experience with this. Please be nice to me lmao I’ve been kinda beating myself up during the writing process-

With Alistair’s death came an array of changes. In many ways, he hardly resembled the person he was when he was alive. His form had gone from decently built to thin and skeletal, grey skin pulled tightly over it without much muscle mass left. It was difficult for him to move how he used to, especially without the support of his cane, which is why he was almost always floating and rarely walking. The structure of his face was completely different - everything was all sunken, uncanny, and corpse-like. There was so much he could point out that he didn’t like about his new body, but we’d be here for too long.

Needless to say, he looked like a monster. He felt like a monster.

And after a while, he actually started to become one.

Alistair thought that death would be the end of it all, but he couldn’t be further from the truth. Throughout his first few years of ghosthood, Alistair only continued changing. The first thing he noticed was his teeth - they had initially begun to straighten themselves out a bit, which made Alistair happy, but that was only so that they could get bigger. Much bigger. And sharper. This had especially impacted his canines, which had grown long and pointed, so much that they barely even fit in his mouth anymore.

Then came the rapid claw growth. Whenever Alistair cut his nails, he would wake up the next morning to find them the exact same length they were before. He couldn’t do anything to stop it. Eventually, he just gave up and let them do their own thing, at which point they stopped growing at a certain length and instead became reinforced into strong, durable, sharp claws. To be honest, Alistair quite liked them. It was one of the few new changes he actually didn’t mind that much.

The worst thing, however, were the blood moons.

Full moons nourished Alistair. They gave him strength and power beyond imagination. Lunar eclipses, on the other hand, slowly became his downfall. The first one he experienced after his death made him feel nauseous with a slight toothache, and that was about the worst of it. But with each consecutive blood moon, the symptoms got worse. He got brain fog. White fur started growing on his chest and limbs. His cloak would painfully fuse to his back. Luckily it all went away in the morning, but the experiences left Alistair dreading the next blood moon.

The 13th eclipse was the peak of it all.

That was the night the spirit truly lost himself. The night he transformed into something far more horrific than he could have ever imagined. It absolutely terrified Alistair to have no control over his body like that.

Every time he transformed into that… thing, Alistair only started hating himself more. For years and years he tried to deal with it, but nothing could ever tame the beast within him.

Then, a century later… a new mortal moved in.

~~~ You glance outside the window and check on the position of the moon. It’s almost midnight, when the effect will fully set in. Behind you Alistair clutches his heart and leans against the wall. He looks to be in pain.

Alistair has never told you exactly what happens to him on lunar eclipses. He’s mentioned it to you before, especially in recent times as the eclipse drew closer, but he would always hide the exact details. It’s something he’s always been self conscious about and refuses to elaborate on. All you know is that whatever happens to the ghost is supposedly very dangerous, for you and for others.

You’re lost in quiet contemplation as you stare out the window, feeling sorrow for poor Alistair, when suddenly a loud crash and thud behind you tears you away from your thoughts. Turning around frightfully, you notice that Alistair has collapsed and is leaning propped up against the wall. His hat is crooked and he’s panting heavily like he’s in severe distress. You rush away from the window, getting down on the floor so you can be eye level to him.

“What’s going on? Are you alright?” You ask, putting a hand on his shoulder. The texture of his cloak beneath your hand catches your attention. Looking at it, you notice that it’s begun to change shape and feels more… organic than usual.

“Y/n, please, I told you that you need to leave,” Alistair pleads with you between grunts of pain. “I won’t be myself. I won’t remember who you are. There’s no way for me to guarantee that you will be safe, that I won’t hurt you. You cannot stay here, please.”

In a sudden and startling turn of events, Alistair cries out, gripping his head with his claws. Something is happening to him that makes you immediately pull your hand away from his shoulder and scurry back…

His cloak…

It’s starting to move on its own.

The way it moves reminds you of something from a horror movie, like bones snapping into impossible, grotesque positions. Accompanying the rigid movements of the cape is a sickening cracking noise that makes your stomach turn. Throughout it all, Alistair starts to scream, as the fabric is quite literally welding itself into his body and becoming a part of him.

“I said leave, Y/n!” He shouts once more, falling onto his hands and knees. Alistair’s form trembles violently, and with yet another cry, what was once his cape fully transforms into a massive set of bat wings with an impressive wingspan. The wings spread out wide in an intimidating spectacle while Alistair continues to struggle.

Hurried footsteps pound down the eastern hallway, and in comes one of the mansion’s ghostly servants, attracted by the noise. She takes a second to assess the situation and notices Alistair convulsing on the floor. Her face falls. Then she notices you.

“Oh! Er— come here, dear,” she urges, nervously scurrying over to you and gently grabbing your wrist. Her eyes are filled with deep fear and concern. “Let’s go. I know a safe place you can hide for the night.”

She tries guiding you away, but you resist. All you care about right now is Alistair. The poor man appears to be suffering immensely at the hands of his transformation. Right now, he’s currently attempting to push himself up off the ground, but he’s too weak and just falls over again with a little whine.

“Alistair…” you mumble.

Sensing your sympathy, the servant’s eyes soften into a gentle expression. “I know you’re worried about him, but he will be alright in the morning. Now come on, right this way, right this way…”

She starts to softly pull on your arm, leaving you no choice but to follow her and leave Alistair behind. The last thing you see is him keeling over before you get dragged out of the room and brought into one of the guest rooms down the hall.

Now, Alistair is left all alone in the foyer of the mansion. Aside from his wails, the house is completely silent, since all of the other inhabitants have hidden away for the night. There was no one to help him as he went through the next stage of the awful transformation. Unfortunately for him, the wings were only the beginning. He barely even got a minute of relief before he felt that dreadfully familiar burning sensation deep inside of his body.

Snap.

Snap.

Snap.

Bones began to break and expand at unnatural rates in order for his form to change. His spine grew longer and more jagged, making his frame tall and imposing. The bones in his legs snapped and reformed to become digitigrade like that of a wild beast. Additionally, Alistair’s arms and bony hands became larger in order to support a nasty set of vicious claws that could effortlessly tear into prey. Even his very skull began to warp and change into something more animalistic. It was awful. Alistair’s throat was starting to hurt from all the yelling and after a while the only sounds he could make were strained, guttural cries.

Not to mention the way his flesh had to grow to match his new skeletal structure. Though he maintained his lean shape, his arms and legs became more muscular, as well as his back muscles that helped propel those massive wings of his. Alistair could hardly describe what it felt like, but the way that his cells had to rapidly mutate beyond human capability was insufferable. Mostly, it felt like a hellish burning. But there was also a strange, stinging-aching feeling associated with his insides stretching out and body changing shape. For the last step in the body mutation, a pair of large bat ears sprouted from his head, and he gained the last few kinds of animalistic features he needed: paw pads on the bottoms of his feet, a proper bat muzzle, and even larger fangs, to name a few.

Finally, it was over. The hard part, anyway. His fur still needed to grow in but that was painless.

Alistair, completely exhausted, laid curled up on his side, trembling and whimpering pitifully. He struggled to catch his breath after everything that just happened and panted like a wounded animal. Scattered all around him were the remnants of his clothes that had burst at the seams during his transformation. Suddenly he was glad everybody left the room, otherwise they’d have… quite the view.

While he rested, his beautiful fur coat started to grow out, starting at his limbs and torso and continuing to spread from there. The fur was longest on his chest and crotch area (which worked in his favor, considering he had no clothes on that would otherwise cover things up) and it was surprisingly soft. It was almost funny how soft he was considering how the rest of him just seemed so monstrous.

For the first couple of minutes, Alistair did nothing but lay still and breathe. He was still very spent and needed a minute to adjust to his new form as a werebat. But it wouldn’t last for long. Because he knew that very shortly, the hunger would set in. Hunger so insatiable that he would do anything to feel warm blood and flesh beneath his fangs.

Just at that moment, his bat nose twitched when he caught the scent of something far in the distance. He sniffed the air a few times to get a better feel for it… some sort of large prey in the woods behind the mansion. His maw started foaming immediately, he just couldn’t help it… whatever was out there should surely be enough to sustain him for the night.

Alistair, with newfound vigor, starts to push himself up off the ground. At first, he feels very unsteady since he’s not adjusted to his body yet, but animal instinct quickly takes over and he rises to his feet. Standing at just over 7 feet tall, Alistair’s werebat form is an absolute menace. His animalistic mind has now been completely consumed by bloodthirstiness and the idea of his next meal. Assuming an aggressive position, Alistair puffs his chest out, spreads his wings, and flares his claws, just before releasing a screeching cry so shrill that it echoes throughout every hall of the mansion, shaking the very foundation it rests upon.

Immediately after he calls out, Alistair rears his head and charges at the mansion’s front door. It shatters effortlessly against his mighty form, and with that the giant bat escapes the mansion unharmed, flying into the night in search of his prey.

~~~

“Come on, come on…”

The beam of light coming from your flashlight sputters and flickers from what you assume is low battery, or perhaps old age. You give it a good few hard smacks. Now is hardly the time for it to malfunction.

The spirits of the mansion had kept you sequestered away in one of the guest rooms for about an hour, trying to defend you from Alistair. And, while you appreciated their concern, you were worried about him. From the room you were in you could hear his pained, miserable screams.

Which meant that you also heard the sound of him destroying the front door and fleeing.

Since all of the other spirits were hiding away in their own separate places, it was rather easy for you to sneak out unnoticed. All you took with you was a flashlight and a small dagger, just in case. Not that you could ever use it on Alistair. It just made you feel a little safer wandering into a dark, wooded area knowing that you had a weapon with you.

The flashlight beam finally stabled itself out after the last hit. You point it out into the tangled woods behind the mansion and try to find any evidence of Alistair. Considering he flew, it’s not like you could go off of animal tracks or anything, so it was proving to be a little difficult. But you were determined to find him.

Finally, you start to take some hesitant steps into the forest. The trees had grown long and twisted, some of them even being over a century old, which blocked out the moonlight and made it even more difficult to see. All you really had going for you lighting-wise was some crappy flashlight that was likely crusted over with battery acid. The forest also had that typical Louisiana humidity to it, even at night. You had to shoo off more mosquitos than you would have liked.

You walk for quite a bit of time, shining your flashlight over the ground and trees, before you find anything. The first sign you noticed were deer tracks on the dark soil. Not necessary anything related to bats, but you instinctively feel like you should follow them anyways. They seem to go on for a far, far distance, all in one direction, as if the creature was running from something…

Suddenly, you start to feel a bit paranoid.

You even began having second thoughts about turning back. Still, though, all you could think about was Alistair. He was somewhere all alone out here, stuck in a monstrous body he couldn’t control. Something could happen to him; what if he got shot?

You have to pull through, for him. So against everything telling you not to, you keep trekking through the woods.

At one point in the trail, there was a moment where the tracks suddenly stopped. Instead, there was a spot where dirt, leaves, and soil seemed to be scattered and kicked around, forming a large messy crater in the ground. Usually, you would’ve thought nothing of it, but for some reason it felt deeply off-putting.

After staring at it for a moment, you hesitantly decide to keep walking forwards. But it doesn’t get any better. Now, there is a large, long streak in the ground, as if something had been dragged through the dirt. You shine your flashlight over it, and notice something even worse splattered through the foliage…

Blood.

The sound of shifting leaves in front of you makes you jump out of your skin. You don’t dare look up.

The beam of your flashlight starts to waver from the way your hands begin to shake. More odd noises come from just a few yards away… snarfing, growling, noisy chewing. You already know what it is but you don’t want to look, you don’t want to look, you can’t look at it don’t look at it don’t look it at it—

Your flashlight sputters. Then flickers.

Then dies.

Oh, of course.

The flashing light seems to attract the attention of the beast in front of you. Without your only light source, it’s so dark that you can barely make out the silhouettes… and a pair of glowing yellow eyes bearing right into you.

Very, very slowly, you try to step away. The creature continues to stare unblinkingly at you as you move, keeping a large, clawed paw on the half-eaten deer carcass in front of it. Even as it lowers its head back down to take another huge bite, its eyes never leave you. You don’t know what to do. You can’t move.

You stand there very still for the next good few minutes. In that time the beast has managed to reduce the cervidae to nothing but a pile of bones. When it finishes eating and licks its maw, you hope that it will lose interest in you and walk away. But of course not. Instead, it stands up to its full height and starts creeping right over to you, the slits of its pupils so slim that you can hardly even see them.

For a moment, it steps into the moonlight, allowing you to see it clearly.

It’s Alistair, alright.

Looks like you found him after all.

Even as a werebat, something about its appearance makes you immediately recognize it to be him. Perhaps it’s the somewhat messy white fur that covers his body, fading into a grey color in a gradient manner towards his forearms and shins. Or it could be those giant dark grey wings that remind you so much of his cloak. His face, ears, hands and feet were a slightly lighter shade of grey than the wings, reminding you of his usual sickly skin tone… but most importantly, it might be those eyes of his. Those soul-piercing yellow eyes that could make the blood of even the bravest being run cold. You would recognize them anywhere.

You do your best to stay still as he approaches you. It might sound stupid, but you feel like running would only trigger him more. Alistair comes up to you, his massive figure towering over your shaking body, and you feel like this could be the end.

He leans down and gets so close to you that you can see the individual blood stains on his fur. But surprisingly, he doesn’t attack right away. Instead, his snout buries into your hair, and then your neck, sniffing around… he seems curious about you. Eventually he pulls back and grabs your wrist.

“Um, okay,” you stammer, scared absolutely shitless but following him as he drags you off to a small cave just nearby. It looks to almost be like… his den? The inside is decorated with various bones and skulls, as well as beautiful vines along the walls and some baskets full of fruit or other little snacks. Alistair pulls you over to a large pile of animal pelts towards the back of the cave and sets you down gently. Perhaps it’s his nest?

You’re feeling very confused. Especially when he plops down next to you and starts sniffing at your neck again and clothes again. Alistair’s face scrunches in confusion, as if he’s trying to place something, when suddenly he pauses and looks right into your eyes, his slit pupils dilating into a more gentle expression of recognition.

He remembers you.

It’s like a switch is flipped. Alistair’s large, strong arms pick you up and place you right into his lap, where he continues to examine you. Even if his brain is too fogged over to remember what you look like, he seems to recognize you by your scent alone. Which is honestly just really adorable.

He then carefully lifts you up so that you’re eye level and starts to rub his soft head along your face and neck. It reminds you of a cat rubbing itself along your legs to mark its scent on you, which is essentially the same thing he’s doing. It’s fascinating to see how differently he shows his affection in a more animalistic form - he may have a more feral, primitive mind now, but he still has his ways of showing that he loves you. After he deems you sufficiently marked, Alistair buries his soft little muzzle into the crook of your neck again…

…and then bites.

No, not like a cute little nibble or anything. He sinks his fangs right in and breaks the skin, just at the spot between your neck and shoulder. Considering how he showed no signs of hostility beforehand, you’re completely taken by surprise. In fact, you don’t even register the pain at first because you’re so shocked.

He holds his fangs there for about 10 seconds and then slowly lets go. Left just next to your shoulder is a massive, bleeding bite from his fangs. Your eyes are still widened in complete shock, but Alistair seems unphased. He was just acting on natural instinct.

See, the bite wasn’t meant to hurt you. He had actually carefully adjusted the force of it to where it would break the skin and engrave deeply but not cause any permanent damage to the nerves or flesh. Instead, he made it just deep enough to create a permanent scar on a visible area of your body. He was giving you a mating bite - a mark on you that would show everyone, both human and beast, that you were his.

Alistair’s long tongue gently laps at the wound to clean it. His saliva seems to be numbing it for you, lessening some of the stinging pain left behind (and, as a bonus, he gets a little snack out of the blood). The werebat seems to know that his fangs hurt and is now acting very tenderly towards you to make up for it. His tongue works diligently until the bite mark naturally clots and is ready to be properly treated later.

Once he’s finished, Alistair makes a low growling noise and leans back onto his nest with you on top of him. His large arms wrap tightly around your body and hold you so close that your face gets smothered in his long chest fur. Breathing him in, you notice that he has somewhat of a woodsy musk smell to him. It’s honestly quite pleasant. He starts to purr, a deep, rumbling purr that you can feel the vibrations of as you rest on top of his fluffy underbelly.

“Oh, well… I guess you’re actually a little bit cute,” you mumble at him, freeing an arm so you can scratch him underneath his ear. Alistair’s purring gets louder, and his eyes start to close in pure contentment. It’s… really, really adorable. Normally, Alistair would get pissed off if you tried babying him like this. But right now? Just like any other creature, he could never deny some good scritches.

The cute little (or rather, not so little) monster nudges up against you like he wants more. Who are you to deny him? You take both hands and start rubbing his soft face, even giving him a little kiss on the nose, which makes his big bat ears twitch. Now, under your touch, he’s no more intimidating than a lap dog.

Alistair especially loves it when you start to pet and scratch his fluffy belly. His purrs become so loud and deep that it reminds you of a dinosaur. His large bat body stretches out to expose himself as best as he can to you for more rubs, his leg kicking joyously when he receives them. He just feels so… relaxed.

He wasn’t used to that. Feeling relaxed. Not only in werebat form, but as regular old Alistair Crump, too. Normally he was much too shut in and reserved to let someone get close to him, nevertheless touch him. And as a werebat, Alistair was constantly under the stress of trying to control his violence and rampages. He has never once been able to just settle down and let someone pet him like this.

Perhaps that just means that you’re someone he feels safe around.

After a while, you notice him starting to yawn. The large bat looks very sleepy, having been relaxed by your gentle, comforting touch. Alistair makes another little purring sound and pulls you close once more. His warm tongue starts to sweetly lick at your lips, almost like he’s giving you his own little version of kisses to thank you for all of the affection you gave him.

Finally, he settles down and wraps his arms and wings against you, cuddling you as if you were his own little stuffed animal. You notice that as he drifts off to sleep, his eyes are gentle and dilated. It’s a sign of how calm he is. The calmest and tamest the beast has ever been.

Maybe, all this time, he only needed a gentle and understanding mate.

And who better to fit the part than you?

[feyburner]

“Wen Kexing’s stories are always about death. He populates them with animals and children. He tells Chengling about a boy who chases a firefly into a dark forest only to find himself lost, dead leaves crunching like bone underfoot, owls laughing overhead. In that story the boy gets adopted by a wild tiger. Years later when winter is cruel and the tiger is starving, it eats the boy. It makes the mistake of swallowing him whole. The boy makes his home in the tiger’s belly and lives there for a season, surviving on scraps of meat from the tiger’s other meals, until finally he is strong enough to claw his way out. Afterward he skins the tiger and fashions its pelt into a cloak, and all the other animals of the forest are so stupid they believe he is the tiger, and that is how the boy becomes king.

“I like shishu’s stories,” Chengling confesses, crawling into bed after Wen Kexing has gone. “But sometimes when he tells them, he looks sad.”

Chengling is so young, Zhou Zishu thinks. He is too young to know it’s not sadness Wen Kexing feels, not exactly. At a certain point there is no such thing as sadness. Either you’re hollow or you’re full. Wen Kexing reminds Zhou Zishu of a wine gourd. He was born full, scraped hollow, and now fills himself with wine. It’s something they have in common.

…

Zhou Zishu closes the doors behind him and waits until the candle is snuffed out, the cracks of yellow light replaced by the blue dark of evening. He takes his time wandering back through the halls of the manor to the east wing where he sleeps. He lingers in the shadows and thinks about a boy in a tiger’s belly, picking at the torn bodies of monkeys and wild pigs. Eating around the bits of fur and gristle. Fitting his own teeth to the marks of the tiger’s, pressing his small hands to the soft floor of the stomach, feeling along the bars of rib. Zhou Zishu thinks about wearing the skin of the thing that devoured you. How long does it take for a boy to become a tiger? Is it when he swallows his first mouthful of bloody meat?  

Lao Wen, Zhou Zishu wants to tell him. You can take off the pelt. I already know what you look like, wild, adorned with viscera. Gore-soaked and naked as a newborn. Maybe I wasn’t formed in Ghost Valley, but I have walked the realm of shades. The difference between you and me is I climbed into the tiger’s mouth and brought my brothers with me. From within its jaws I beckoned. I told them we’d be safe there, protected from the wolves.

…

Night comes alive outside the window as they drink, the nightingales fluting their songs. Together they discuss Chengling’s training and the search for a silk painter, the local wine, Gu Xiang and her Cao da-ge—Wen Kexing curls his lip, for show—and the orchards. What a pleasure it is, Zhou Zishu thinks, to live such peaceful days that you can spend your nights remarking on unremarkable things. What a pleasure it is to talk for the sake of talking, to sink into the familiar patterns of his voice. Wen Kexing has said nothing earth-shattering. No grief or fury stalks his words. He complains about the weather and quotes a poem he’s quoted before. He picks at a plate of nuts, avoiding the bits of dried fruit, and cackles at his own jokes. His laugh, when it’s real, is either low and soft or high and foxlike, a rasping bark.

…

This time when he leans in, he brushes their foreheads together. His eyes slip shut. The last time he kissed someone was in a lavish room draped in gold and peacock blue. He remembers the skin of his chest pulled tight around the two nails embedded in it, still an unfamiliar pain back then. He remembers the heavy scent of plum wine, the scrape of stubble against his chin, his jaw, then lower. He remembers staring at a hanging scroll on the opposite wall, an ink-wash scene of a single pine tree overlooking a misty gorge, its knotted branches reaching out into the empty space. That night he fucked or was fucked, it doesn’t matter. His hands did what hands do. His body took and took again, half clothed. Afterward he rolled into the damp spot and drove his knife into soft flesh. He listened to another round of gasping. More spasms like the desperate flopping of a fish. Men die and fuck the same.

He thinks if he said that aloud, Wen Kexing would respond: And there are so many ways to do both. 

…

How terrible, at the end of this life, to find someone so funny who likes him.”

…

…

i wish i could copy paste the entire fic here. i can’t tell you how many times i’ve read it. your writing is beautiful. it is pure rhythm. it feels effortless and i know thats bec the level of skill is insane. thank you. i hope you never stop.

Thank you so much. This really means a lot. That fic is special to me bc it broke a writing dry spell. Thank you for reading it and sending this, I really appreciate it. 💛

[gosecretscribbles]

Rise August 2024 Day 11: Mud Dogs (What Doesn't Kill You Is Great Comedy Material 1/2)

Summary: The Mud Dogs haven’t been giving Mama enough loot, so she has other plans for them. 

Trigger Warning: short Battle Nexus fight, non-graphic injuries, Big Mama-style manipulation and traps via contract.

Keeping the pace pretty brisk to match the style in Raph’s Ride-Along.  Had a lot of fun with this one!  Enjoy!

Loathsome Leonard dumped the bag of loot on Big Mama’s desk.

“There you go, Big Mama! That’s, uh, that’s actually more than the usual cut! Like fifty percent of it! Haha!”

The loot was a single gold cup and a handful of coins. Leonard knew it wasn’t enough, but he kept up a wide grin anyway.

Big Mama looked down at it for a long moment. Then she lifted her eyes to Loathsome Leonard and his three chums crowded behind him. Leonard didn’t dare turn, but he could feel Dastardly Danny and Malicious Mickey wearing identical nervous grins. Heinous Green grunted. Big Mama still hadn’t moved.

Leonard started to sweat. “See, uh, we haven’t had the best luck, and we haven’t gone out as much – we’ve sort of been running a –”

“Not to worry, my dearwiffle darling,” she purred. “I think this could be your most valuable donation yet.”

“I-it is?”

“Oh yes.” She snapped her fingers. The panels along the walls slid open and the Mud Dogs were immediately surrounded by two dozen of Big Mama’s beefiest body guards. “Take these charming young clowns to the Battle Nexus. They’ll make marvelous entertainment.”

“Hey – wait!”

“We can’t!” Mickey yelped.

“We got prior obligations!” Danny shouted.

“Unnnngh,” Hank groaned.

But the four of them were tied up and tossed into the dungeons anyway. It was one of the bigger rooms, at least, but even at Hank’s smallest size, there wasn’t a lot of room.

Mickey grabbed Danny’s jacket. “What’re we gonna do, Danny?!”

“Cut it out!” Danny planted a clawed hand in Mickey’s face and shoved him away. Then he took a tiny shitzu out of his bright purple jacket. “You’re squishin’ Chaos!”

Chaos yipped adorably.

Mickey clutched at his chest. “What about all the other doggies we’ve been rescuing? They’ll all starve if we can’t get back to them! And Mrs. Num-Num needs her tummy rubbed!”

Leonard stood and ran his hand grimly along the stone walls. “No way outta this, boys,” he said darkly. “This ain’t prison. We can’t escape like we did before. We gotta think of another angle.”

Hank grabbed at the wall. His fingers crushed the rock. He pulled a brick out and chewed it.

Mickey beamed at him. “Aw, Hank! We love you, too!”

Danny scowled. “It’s your fault we’re in this mess, Loathsome Leonard! If we’d stolen the Chalice of Prophetic Destruction, we’d have had enough to keep Big Mama happy! But no! You wanted to steal from some cheap human museum. Who cares about the Holy Grail? It ain’t worth nothin’!”

“Guys, guys!” Mickey pushed the two of them apart. “Fighting won’t get Mrs. Num-Num her belly rubs!”

Leonard growled and looked away. “Fine. I got somethin’ Big Mama’ll want. Oi!” He stuck an arm out of the cell and waved for a guard’s attention. “You hear me? I got somethin’ Big Mama will want more than a buncha rodeo clowns!”

The guard, a bright pink squid yokai, oozed its way down the corridor. “You sure?” it burbled.

“I’m sure,” Leonard said.

The guard blew a bubble between the bars. It blooped over Leonard. The guard reached in and attached a tentacle to the bubble. Then it pulled Leonard out and down the hallway, Leonard bobbing up and down like a balloon.

Mickey looked nervous. “What d’ya think he’s gonna do?”

Danny scowled. “Something dumb.”

Hank groaned, pulled another brick from the wall, and chewed it.

A look of realization crept over Mickey’s face. “Heeey, I think I’ve got an idea!”

It took a couple hours for Hank to eat his way through the wall. They made a mistake the first time and ended up in someone else’s cell. Then they tried getting Hank to tunnel under the cell door, but the floor was made of dirt and even Mickey’s famous mud pies couldn’t make that very appealing. Eventually Hank got annoyed and punched the back wall. The new opening brought them into the long hallway that led straight to the Battle Nexus Arena. As they crawled out, there was a loud cheer. A battle! The three of them rushed to the barred opening, eager to see a good fight.

Mikey screamed. “Leonard! NO!”

Leonard couldn’t hear him. He was battling a massive black scorpion yokai with a whip-like tail and pincers big enough to snap even Hank in half. Leonard darted in and out of the scorpion’s reach. The red stripe over his left eye now had a matching stripe of blood over his right. He was breathing heavily.

Mickey grabbed Danny. “We have to get him out of there!”

“I’m on it!”

Danny shoved Chaos at Mickey and then squeezed under the barred door, contorting his rat yokai muscle and bone. He popped up on the other side just as the scorpion landed a lucky hit, smacking Leonard in the chest so hard he went flying several feet across the gritty arena floor. He didn’t get up. The crowd went wild.

“LEONARD!” Mickey and Danny both screamed. Then Danny had to dive out of the way because Hank ran head-first through the entrance, the bars caught around his neolithic skull. He kept charging until he rammed into the scorpion yokai. It hissed and whipped its tail at him. Danny grabbed a conveniently broken piece of bar and leaped forward to block the blow. Mickey passed Chaos back Danny and leaped on Hank’s fist. Mickey’s eel body lit up with an electric charge and Hank rammed him into the scorpion’s head. The scorpion dropped. The crowd went even wilder.

Mickey and Danny were already sprinting for Leonard. Hank lumbered behind them, groaning. Leonard was still conscious, but his eyes were glazed with pain.

“You’re an idiot!” Danny barked at him. “How is getting yourself killed going to help anything?”

“I’m fixing it,” Leonard coughed. “Big Mama said she’d let us go if I won a fight.”

“You didn’t win,” Big Mama called from her box. The four of them looked up at her.

“He ain’t standin’ up!” Leonard called, pointing at the scorpion.

“Neither are you,” Big Mama cooed. “I’d say it’s a diddly-draw, but your brothers in crime did most of the work!”

She snapped her fingers. Panels around the arena opened, and the same two dozen guards stepped out. They all zeroed in on the Mud Dogs. Danny bit, Mickey cried, and Hank groaned ominously, but the four of them still wound up in a cell – this time with a badly hurt Loathsome Leonard.

“At least get him medical attention!” Danny snapped at their squid guard. The squid guard blew a bubble that went around Danny’s head. He yelled again, then pulled at the bubble, but no sound came out. He sat down in a huff.

“We gotta,” Leonard started, but trailed off coughing. Chaos peeked out of Danny’s jacket and yipped with concern.

“We gotta find help,” Mickey said confidently. “And I think I know just who to ask. Hank! Did that big fight work up an appetite?”

Hank blinked one eye at a time. Then he pulled another brick from the wall and chewed.

“Great! I need to get into the sewers. Danny, you stay here and take care of Leonard. Leonard, you stay here and take care of Chaos. She turns inside-out when she’s stressed.”

Chaos yipped. Then she turned inside out. Leonard braced himself and reached over carefully to tap her nose. She turned right-side out again.

Mickey directed Hank to a spot where he could smell water. Hank pulled and chewed bricks until a new hole formed, this one leading straight down to a tunnel of sewage. Mickey popped the head bubble off of Danny, crammed it onto his own head instead, and dove head-first into the murky water.

Just as he’d thought, the sewage system of the Hidden City connected to the sewage system of New York. (Danny once said this was how New Yorkers got myths about alligators in the sewers. Mickey knew that was dumb – the alligator yokai really did live there! Along with actual alligators.)

Eventually Mickey found a part of the New York sewers covered in turtle-themed graffiti and even one of Lou Jitsu. He brightened. He loved Lou Jitsu! He was a big fan! Maybe if he met another fan, they could help him find the turtles!

He swam further until he heard the sound of voices. A sudden water current dragged him sideways, then straight up until he hit his bubble-helmet on a metal lid. The bubble popped. Mickey held his breath and tried to head-butt the lid, but it wouldn’t budge. Did it unscrew? Oh! Maybe it was like those push-then-unscrew medicine bottles! But how could he push down?

Suddenly he heard voices. There was a rusty squeak and the lid popped off.

“ – when it’s 4 AM, Mikey, there are no alligators in the –”

Two turtles looked down at Mickey. One had a blue bandana and the other had an orange one. All three of them screamed.

“AAAH! IT’S AN ALLIGATOR!” screamed the orange turtle.

“AAAH! IT HAS TERRIBLE SKINCARE!” screamed the blue turtle.

“AAAH! I’M SCREAMING!” screamed Mickey.

“Okay okay okay!” the blue turtle held up its hands. “Who are you and what are you doing in our pipes?”

“I’m trying to find Evil Emerald!” Mickey said, pulling himself up. “My brother in crime has been badly hurt, and we need help escaping Big Mama’s Battle Nexus!”

The blue turtle sighed. “I knew we should’ve shut that thing down, but Donnie’s got such a soft spot for adults who compliment his genius.”

The orange turtle cocked his head. “Evil Emerald? But we don’t have a turtle named Evil. Or Emerald!”

A turtle dressed in purple popped his head out of a ceiling vent. “Why are we discussing Raph’s villainous alter ego?”

“We need his help! My brother in crime is hurt!”

“RAPH’S INJURED BROTHER SENSES ARE TINGLING!”

A huge red-clad turtle punched his way through the nearest wall.

The blue turtle groaned. “Guys, we just moved into this lair, can we not destroy city infrastructure when it directly affects us?”

Mickey’s face brightened. “Evil Emerald!”

The big turtle scowled. “Oh. Evil Mikey. What do you want?”

“It’s Loathsome Leonard! We haven’t been stealing as much because we’ve been running a dog fighter racket –”

“What,” Mikey said flatly. Suddenly he was somehow much bigger and literally glowing with rage. “You run a dog fighting racket?”

“No-no-no, a dog fighter racket! We take people who make dogs fight, steal their dogs, then put the owners in cage matches to fight each other instead. The racket pays for the dogs’ food and vet bills! We’ve rehabilitated several aggression cases and given them super-cute haircuts!”

The red turtle grimaced. “Raph’s sense of justice is conflicted.”

“Mine isn’t,” the orange turtle said, smiling serenely.

The blue turtle shook his head. “Why does something sound so evil but feel so right?”

The purple turtle extended a metal arm to pat the blue one’s head. “Because morality and legality are not the same thing.”

Evil Emerald’s face set in a determined scowl. “We can’t let those poor doggies go hungry! We gotta help the Mud Dogs!”

“Great! Follow me!” Mickey dove back into the sewer.

Unfortunately, Evil Emerald wouldn’t fit through the pipe, so Mickey followed them to the surface to take a portal back to the hidden city. He kept looking around as they walked. The Human City was so big! And colorful! And way less mystical! He learned all the turtle names. It was so weird that Emerald was calling himself ‘Raph,’ but another alias just showed he was a real bona fide criminal. Definitely trustworthy in Mickey’s book!

Finally, they reached the outer wall of the Battle Nexus.

“How are we gonna get in?” Mickey despaired. “She has guards everywhere, and I don’t see another sewer grate.”

“Oh ye of little mystics,” Leo said smugly, and slashed his sword. A glowing blue portal appeared in the air. It led straight into the Mud Dogs cell. Leonard was still laying on the floor, wheezing harshly. Chaos was curled up next to him, yipping anxiously and turning herself inside-outside-inside-outside. Danny had Leonard’s head pillowed in his lap.

“We’re closer than brothers in crime,” Danny blubbered. “We’re – we’re twins in crime!”

Leonard quirked a grin. “I’m older,” he said, and coughed.

“OMIGOSH!” Mickey and Mikey yelled, and dove through together.

“You guys are so close!” Mikey bawled, tears in his eyes.

“I knew you’d make up eventually!” Mickey cried.

“Doctor Leo in the house!” Leonard announced. “Followed by his own and much cooler twin Donnie! And Raph.”

Danny looked up. “Hey, Evil Emerald! Long time no see!”

Raph grunted. “Danny. Leonard. Where’s Heinous Hank?”

Danny looked around, confused. “Hey. He was JUST here. Chaos, did you see where he went?”

Chaos yipped and pointed to a very large hole in the righthand wall.

Donnie stared at the Mud Dogs, then turned to his brothers. “Gentlemen, I apologize for any and all aspersions cast upon your intelligence.”

Danny scowled at him. “’Eeeey, I understood most’a that! I’ve had my hands full, Mr. Fancy College Degree!”

“Scoff! College is for those who wish to clay in the hands of greedy capitalist corporations!”

Leonardo knelt next to Leonard, stethoscope out and ready. “Ignore him, he plans to attend all the Ivy Leagues simultaneously when he hits 18. Okay, I’ve gotta listen to you breathe for a sec. Inhale, aaaand exhale. One more time?”

“What’s the diagonal, doc?” Mickey asked anxiously.

“He means Diagon Alley,” Mikey corrected.

“I hate all of you,” Donnie muttered.

“About six broken ribs and a nasty concussion. You’re gonna want to be totally lazy for like, six months, minimum.”

“But we still need to find Hank!” Leonard cried.

“Uh, guys?” Raph gestured to the bars across the cell. The squid was waving for their attention. It made a series of odd squiggles with its tentacles.

“Big Mama wants to see us?” Mickey asked.

Mikey looked back and forth. “How’d you guess?”

“Oh, I’m real good at charades!” the eel said proudly.

Raph’s face lit up. “You ARE?!”

“Oh, sure! Hank doesn’t talk much, so we gotta be good! Chewing a brick is his way of saying ‘I love you!’”

“Or ‘I’m hungry,’” Leonard added. “Depends on context.”

Leonardo stood up. “Alright, guys, let’s go see Big Mama.”

The squid burbled at them and blew a series of bubbles. They were grouped together in twos, Mikey with Mickey, Leonard with Leonardo, Donny with Danny, Raph with Chaos. The squid toted them through the dungeons, the servant’s quarters, the vendor guest rooms, the guest rooms, and up to Big Mama’s personal office. The doors were opened by an owl and fox youkai pair. Big Mama sat at her desk in human form, smiling primly. The bubbles popped once they floated inside. Leonardo tried to catch Loathesome Leonard, but he still grunted in agony when his ribs shifted.

Big Mama clicked her tongue. “That’s a nasty wickle bruise, Loathesome! But I have some exciting news. You are all free to go!”

Raph raised an eyebrow. “Just like that?”

“What about Hank?” Mickey demanded.

“What about him, dear?” Big Mama simpered. “I said you are all free to go. Hank, on the other hand…”

She gestured. Hank stepped out from the shadows, looking vaguely nervous. It was not a look Hank’s face was used to making. Big Mama held up a new contract and smiled with all her teeth.

“Hank is my new assistant.”

Part 2

@sariphantom

[berrymoos]

❝❪ 🌧 〜 sea salt on snow. ❫❞

ʚɞ—fandom pairing: trolls. rg!branch, a dabble of cg!poppy

ʚɞ—summary: the telltale fuzz of tinyspace knaws at branch's brain when he storms off the bus. (canon compliant!)

ʚɞ—cw(s): angst. hurt/very little comfort. minor spoilers for trolls 3.

ʚɞ—a/n: a truck of inspo hit me in the middle of the night, i blacked out, then woke up at 2am with words mysteriously on my screen. here's some soup, happy belated holidays <3

the snow is cold underneath bare feet and the wind bites with jagged teeth at skin exposed by under-prepared dressing, but branch presses forward regardless of his discomfort, swallowing the burning throb of panic clawing its way out of his chest. tears threaten his eyes, build upon the brim of his eyelids, blur his vision with the flurry falling all around, but he wipes them away with an angry fist. there isn't any use crying about his mess, now.

he sets his jaw and glues his gaze to the wobbling images ahead of him, flicking his ears as though to rid the words he hears, but they're incessant gummy worms and they stick; they wriggle into his brain and burrow into him with a lack of mercy: “you didn't think we’d live together when this was all over, did you?”

it stings. it stings to reflect on the revelation that his body still remembered every move and every step when jd and spr– bruce dragged him into an impromptu performance; it stings to feel the bear hugs, the tossing, the cheek-smushing linger on his skin, the joy they all expressed upon seeing him after so long; it stings to recognize the age-old feeling of his own happiness deflate into a limp balloon when he learns their mission is simply that — a mission. to save floyd and nothing else.

perhaps, deep down, branch had a niggling suspicion all along that things were too good to be true, and once more he was proven right. john dory, bruce, clay, even floyd to a lesser extent abandoned him before he was out of diapers and never once attempted to reach out, to find his location, to see if he was just alive; of course they wouldn't want to stay together with him– for him. they never bothered trying to all those years ago, anyway.

he isn't unlovable—right? it isn't his fault—right?

their voices—loud within the walls of the bus, accusing one another, angry, frustrated at jd—ping-pong across his head. with shaking legs branch’s shuddering breath catches on a hook and yanks a choked sob from his throat. all at once his brain scrambles, buzzes, slushes like sea salt on snow, then yanks him under. why here? why now? without– without–

a hand catches a blue one from behind, delicate but too sudden nevertheless. branch yanks away and whirls around only to stumble over his own two feet, grey-blue fur bristling on instinct … but her taffy pink skin and her worried magenta eyes, let alone her frowning red lips crumbles every bit of him before any words can be prepared. with another sob that wracks his shoulders forward, the brittle twig all but collapses into poppy’s warmth, scrambles to clutch onto any part of her that can stabilize him in the littlest bit (the front of her dress: soft against his palms and soothing to squeeze), hiccups a breath, and wails.

[themistressdomme]

Another scenario for you to imagine~:

Last night I was fucking myself in the shower, plunging my toy into my aching, dripping pussy over, and over, and over again. I was clawing at the walls of the shower, clutching onto anything within reach to keep myself upright since my legs were shaking so bad.

Anyways…

I was imagining taking a shower with you…

We’d agree upon taking a shower together and you’d tell me to go and get started without you, that you’d be in soon, and so I do. I moan at the sensation of the warm water cascading over my skin, closing my eyes to basque in the feeling. I let my shoulders sag and face the water, my back turned to you as you silently slink into the shower. I am blissfully unaware of your presence, too lost in my own thoughts to have noticed you just yet. That is…until I feel you press your strap against my bare behind, my eyes flying open and a breathless little noise escaping me. Almost immediately, without second thought, I back up a bit, blindly pressing myself closer to you as a desperate plea slips past my lips, all but begging you to take me right then and there, to rail into me mercilessly and make a mess of me before I’ve gotten the chance to wash away the day’s stress…

-gob

Oh. Oh my, little gob.

This sounds too delicious, mm.

You were being rather devious in the shower, hm? Perks of being finally allowed to... 😏 Oh I bet you sounded real desperate and messy, hm? All high-pitched and squirmy? Giggly?

So what I'm gathering from this little fantasy is that you really wouldn't be too hard to catch, hm? Especially if you're further pressing yourself into me, all from feeling my strap against you.

Oh, I'd have you pleading and moaning real quick, wouldn't I, little goblin? Go on, give in. Give in to the sweet surrender that comes with the promise of having yourself filled to the brim, my fingers working your clit. Or maybe I brought another toy in with me, hm? A strong little vibrator, perhaps?

I want you pleading, begging, whimpering for me before I give you the satisfaction of filling you deep, before mercilessly railing into you. Best brace yourself against that shower of yours, hm? After all, I won't be done any time soon. I know how much you can take.

-gob

[autumnslance]

Wolcred Week 2023: Trust|Heart

(A day late with 990ish words. Early ShB patches, but nothing spoilery. When your emotional knee-jerk reactions are completely at odds with what your logical brain knows. AKA: Aeryn has a jealous streak she dislikes.)

Aeryn slammed the door of her Pendants apartment, leaning heavily against it, eyes scrunched shut, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

She realized too late she was not alone, and then heard Thancred’s voice. “Is everything all right?”

“Fine,” she failed at trying not to snap. Breathe. Focus. Calm down. “Bad day.”

Aeryn could practically hear his raised eyebrow. “I see. Do you need anything?”

She shook her head. “I just…I’m going to get a shower, see if that takes the edge off.”

“Very well.”

She shoved off the door and stalked into the bath. The pipes rattled, familiar now, as steam started to roll through the small chamber. Aeryn shucked her clothes, pulled out her braids and yanked a comb through her long hair. As she stepped under the running water, she thought she heard the door of the main room click shut again. She leaned on the wall and made herself breathe through that damnable feeling of icy claws squeezing her heart.

It was just some silly woman’s thoughtless, ignorant words; she hadn’t known better. Aeryn did know better, knew Thancred better, and had no reason to feel this way, no cause for alarm.

Nevermind her own nasty words but a few moons ago, when she had made terrible accusations of him. He had rightly been angry.

By the time the steam was fading and the water going from hot to lukewarm and swiftly heading toward chilly, Aeryn thought she heard more sound in the other room, but the rushing water made it difficult to tell. She shut off the shower.

When she returned to the main chamber, body wrapped in a towel, hair wrapped in another, she was surprised by the lowered lights and Thancred setting a full meal on the table. He looked up and smiled sheepishly. 

“So I’d meant to surprise you with reservations at that new restaurant we’d spoken of trying. Given you had a bad day, I instead ran over while you bathed and asked if they could package the meal, so we could dine here in peace and comfort, if you’re already at your limits with people.”

She stared for a moment. Then startled him by sinking to the floor, sobbing.

Thancred stood by the table, watching her. “Did I…do something wrong? Aeryn? Are you all right?” He strode over, hesitating to touch her as he crouched down.

“No, you did right; you did perfect, it’s me being horrid and jealous and just…Gods!” She rubbed her face. “I’m sorry, I haven’t any right to feel this way.”

He frowned. “Yet you obviously do.” He took a moment to think. “What must I do to fix this?”

“No, it’s nothing, you’ve done nothing, and I know that, I trust you, I do, and yet,” she sighed in frustration. “There’s a woman who works at the markets,” Aeryn said. “Shorter than me, fair skin, light brown hair. Named Eidith.” Thancred listened, his concerned expression unchanged. “Apparently you rescued her caravan from sin eaters when she came to the city, around the time I arrived in the First.”

Now he frowned, thinking, and slowly shook his head. “Not ringing any bells, I’m afraid. Ryne and I tended to aid anyone we could get to in time; all anyone with any decency could do when Light yet covered the realm. If she were part of a group of refugees coming to the Crystarium for shelter, she was one of dozens.”

“See, I know that!” Aeryn said. “That makes sense! And I know you; you’re not really the flirtatious cad you pretended to be when we first met.”

“Thank you for that,” he replied dryly.

“But she’s just like those girls that you had wrapped around your fingers back then. Swooning and fawning and asking if I’m one of your friends and might I properly introduce you and—and I had to flee!”

Thancred pinched the bridge of his nose. “For gods’ sakes—are you jealous? Of some woman I don’t even know?”

“Yes! And I know I shouldn’t be!”

He went from crouching to sitting heavily on the floor, and laughed.

“This isn’t funny!”

“It’s certainly not, and yet…Gods, I love you.”

She blinked. “What?” He did not casually say those words, and their use now, coupled with his genuinely relieved laughter, somehow doused the rising heat of her temper.

He wiped his eyes, then reached over and cupped her face in his hands. “I love you, you wonderfully ridiculous woman. Your jealous heart and all.”

She huffed out a breath. It was difficult to stay upset when he was watching her with such wicked amusement. “I was afraid of a repeat of…well, of the time that I said…”

He pulled her closer as he leaned in, until their foreheads rested together. “Then let’s not repeat it, as I’d like to think I’ve earned the trust you didn’t yet have in me at that point.”

“You’ve more than earned it,” she said. “And you’ve always had my trust, really, though I was upset and so acted cruel that day. But it won’t happen again.”

“Then that’s good enough for me. Now, let’s set this matter aside, shall we? Our dinner is getting cold.”

“I’ll get dressed,” Aeryn said.

Thancred made a show of looking her towel-clad form over. “You could, though I certainly won’t complain if you come to the table as you are,” he teased.

She rolled her eyes and pushed away and up, clutching the towel to herself. He stood as well, and caught her in an embrace from behind. He seemed about to say something more, but merely pressed his lips to her bare shoulder and squeezed.

“I love you, too,” Aeryn sighed. “Thank you.”

“Anytime darling. Now put on something cute—please don’t take too long—and come eat your dinner.”

Reassured and heart calmer than it had been half a bell ago, Aeryn stepped away to get dressed for dinner with her partner.