#where’d my claws go?

[7atl7as7]

wait wdym not everyone has a playlist where they dream that they’re their kintype and ripping the flesh off of people they don’t like O-o

[wonderjanga]

Revival

(I posted this on accident when I meant to put it in drafts, anyone who saw that, you didn’t)

Anyways , so Billy casually revives Mary and Freddy whenever they die in their marvel forms. (For this AU, let’s say they’re still super durable, but they’re less durable than Marvel) Like for example:

*Mary and Marvel are fighting a super strong monster. It swings one of its claws at the two, hitting the both of them. It gives Billy a scratch but Mary just dies.*

Marvel: *forgets about the monster immediately* “Oh my gods…” *looks down at her looking properly disturbed and uses tip of boot to move Mary onto her back to see if she’s really, really dead.* “That’s… a nasty one.” *Bends down and fixes her face and wounds up with magic.* He’s revived them before but seeing them die never ceases to scare him. What if he can’t save them the next time?

Mary: *alive but unconscious*

Marvel: *picks her up and zips off to the Rock of Eternity* “Okay, Mary… I’m just gonna…” *Puts her down on the floor and runs around the rock finding blankets upon blankets and a singular pillow. Puts them all on her and puts the pillow under her head.*

Mary: *wakes up slightly and tries to sit up* “Billy, what happened?”

Marvel: “You uh… got knocked out.” *Pushes her back down so she can lay back down* He hasn’t told either of them that nine times out of ten, whenever they get knocked out, they die. It causes a major argument when they find out. “Just go back to sleep, Mary. I’ll take care of the monster.” If anyone saw this, they would truly think he’s her dad.

Mary: “The monster’s still out there?” *already on the verge of going back to sleep*

Marvel: “Not for long.” *tucks her in extra tight and pats her head before flying back to Fawcett*

or

*JL are fighting some aliens. These aliens are actually a little harder than normal. Some of their weapons burned Billy such as the ray-guns. (Which looked awesome) After closer inspection, the ray-guns had some type of magic signature. (Is it bad he finds that even cooler?) Freddy’s also there. The ray-guns affect him more than Billy. He dies when the aliens use a particularly big gun when Billy’s too distracted to help him. He doesn’t even realize Freddy died (again) until all the fighting is over and he’s looking for him.*

Marvel: *Flying around, looking around for Freddy* “Junior! Junior, where’d you go?” *Sees Freddy just laying there and flies down, touching down on the ground* “Junio…” *trails off when he sees Freddy’s dead and walks over to the corpse*

Superman: *flies down and lands next to Marvel* “Cap, Hal’s asking if you want to go for drinks. Do I tell him you’re not going—” *covers mouth when he sees Freddy.*

Marvel: *kneels down in front of Freddy.* How long had he been like this? Could Billy even save him now? He’s so charred… *feels impending dread and nausea creeping up*

Superman: “I- Marvel- I’m so sorry…”

Marvel: *spiraling as he stares at Junior*

Batman: *appears from the shadows* “I know what it’s like to lose a child, Marvel.” *puts hand on Billy’s shoulder* “If you ever need to talk to someone…”

Marvel: *shrugs hand off and starts to try and heal Freddy* “I’m fine.” *keeps muttering that he’s fine and the whole situation is fine as he continues to heal Freddy.*

Batman and Superman: *staring at Marvel in pity*

Superman: “…Marvel?” *Walks up behind Billy* “Marvel. He’s not fine.”

Freddy: *healed, alive but unconscious*

Marvel: “Yes, he is.” *Picks Freddy up* “He’s perfectly fine. I uh- I gotta go.”

Superman: “Cap, wait!”

Marvel: *Zooms off the rock. Ended up doing the same thing he did with the blankets before with Mary to Freddy.*

The league are gobsmacked when they see Freddy talking to Billy as if they hadn’t heard from Supes and Bats that he died. Billy also found a few grey hairs when he detransformed.

[revelboo]

Idk if you have seen this starscream or not but do you think can do transformers armada starscream x reader? I have a real soft spot for him. He deserves some love ❤️

I can try- my knowledge of Armada is a bit thin

Even If It Kills Me

Armada Starscream x Reader

• Helm tipping back as the sun drips through the leaves and dapples him in spots of warmth, he can almost relax out here, far from home. Nearby, he can hear Jetstorm, Runway, and Sonar splashing in the lake as they dart along the rocky shore. Knows the Autobots would probably not like it if they knew he was out alone with the Mini-Cons, but also that the three of them deserve some peace from the fighting. It’s Sonar tapping his ped that makes him look down and it doesn’t take the mini-con’s frantic hand gestures to realize that there’s only two of them. Runway is gone. Primus, it’s like having sparklings sometimes. “Show me,” he growls tiredly as Sonar and Jetstorm both point into the woods framing the clearing and the lake.

• Leaning across the engine to get at the intake manifold while trying to not drop anything inside the engine, the little beeping chirp from behind you almost makes you brain yourself on the hood. Like you need any more injuries, your face is still swollen and your split lip burns as you turn to look and do drop a tool into the engine, hearing it clanging. Because there’s a little robot just taller than you standing behind you, red visor glowing as it startles at the noise of the dropped tool. A kid in a costume? It looks real as you push yourself back and your feet hit the gravel. “Where’d you come from, buddy?” Because your house is well off the road. It’s not moving closer, but not retreating either, so you approach it. It’s not a costume, it can’t be. It’s too cannily made for that. You’d known robots were getting advanced, but why is it out here wandering around? It shies away when you try to touch it and you hold up your hands, palms out. “Okay. We’re good.”

• Not expecting it to cautiously reach out and press its palm to yours, head tipping as it chirps at you. “Hope you’re not a first gen terminator, buddy.” And then it’s carefully gripping your hand to play with your fingers and thumb, seeing how they move and you inhale, but its touch is shockingly gentle as it makes little beeping sounds to itself. It’s inquisitive as it plucks at your flannel shirt and then touches your hair. “Not a fan of personal space, huh?” Its head tips, visor flickering like it’s uncertain.

• Branches clawing at him as he moves through the woods, forcefully making a path, when he breaks free of the tree line, he freezes because he hasn’t realized he was so close to a human dwelling. And there’s a human in the yard right there standing in front of Runway as the mini-con chirps. And you and Runway both freeze as he crashes out of the tree line, Sonar and Jetstorm running toward their brother before stopping short when they notice the human. You’re just staring up at him and he knows he’s supposed to be hidden on this world and not be seen.

• There’s two more you sized robots, but you can’t tear your eyes from the giant red one scowling down at you. The little guys are cute, but this one? Are these his babies? Is he about to stomp you for messing with one of them? “Human,” he growls, taking a thunderous step forward and that’s it for your ability to deal with this nonsense. You throw up a hand at him and start speed walking for the house. Cause nope. No, thank you. You have enough problems without this too.

• You’re ignoring him? Venting raggedly, he strides after you and insinuates his ped between you and the door to your house. And you stare up at him, one eye squinting, the skin around it discolored. “If you let me go, I’ll pretend none of this ever happened, okay?” You say, little arms crossing. “You go do your giant robot, kaiju thing and I’ll go get drunk until I forget this. Everyone wins.” And you grin at him, wincing and darting your tongue out to touch your split lip. Those little injuries shouldn’t mean a thing to him. Except, they strike a chord and he hates it. Because he knows what it’s like to be someone else’s punching bag. You’re just a human, you mean nothing to him, but as Runway chirps up at him almost pleadingly, he bends to curl his servos around you. Or tries to, because reaching for you shatters your odd calm and there’s the fear he expected. And you bolt.

Next

Added a bitty Soundwave plush to my Soundwave Jeep. There’s a lot to do to get ready for Jeep Jam in May

[slut4daviii]

character(s): g.tomioka

pt(s): 01/02

cw: cheating, cum-eating, masturbation

summary: idk but giyuus husband is cheating and giyuu is fantasying about his neighbor. one thing will lead to another and you’ll find that forgetting an anniversary will never end will for the forgetting party

a/n: hi. | minors and non-male aligning DNI

title: anniversary sex

wc: 1250+

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scandalous.

he knew his thoughts were everything but pure.

scandalous.

he knew his thoughts should only pertain to his own husband and the life they’d built together.

scandalous

but… he couldn’t. he couldn’t keep his eyes from the widow. couldn’t keep his thoughts from wandering; forming indecent images and scenarios.

his thighs pressed inwards at the situations created by his imagination. each one a different position, different pose; exploring each other’s bodies, igniting new passion into one another.

“haa— hah! [n—name]…!” he’d moan into your chest, dragging his fingers down your back in such a crude, indecent manner.

you’d groan into his neck, inhaling the fresh scent of his shower, the fruity scent still lingering from the perfume he spent seventy dollars on. just for you.

you’d press yourself deeper into him, embedding your tip into his womb. “ahh!” a high-pitched yelp. he would put his hand on your v-line, trying to stop your movements.

you’d only go harder, dismissing his mindless mumbles of “ngh!! t—too… too de—ep! s—sl—slow d..d—down!!”

he would know.

you would know.

his husband would know.

everyone would know.

that he wanted it. just how you gave it to him; slow, deep, mind-breaking stokes that left him breathless at every thrust.

“you wanted this, right? watched me from your widow. rubbing yourself to my form, hoping I’d come and sweep you away from your husband.”

he’d choke on his words, clawing at you for any sort of support. his eyes would roll backwards, an orgasm rippling between the two of you, staining your chests in a sticky white substance.

“Gi—“

you’d move your fingers to his chest, lifting his legs to his shoulders in the process. your fingers would slid along his abs, soaking up his spewed semen and bringing it to his—

“Giyuu”

—mouth, forcing him to taste his own—

“Giyuu!”

—seed. he’d moan around your fingers, the salty taste of himself pushing him over—

“GIYUU!!”

Giyuu pulled back from the sink, dropping the cup he held in his hand, shattering it.

his husband stood across the short kitchen distance with a briefcase in hand. he adjusted his tie, tugging on the fabric to adhere to his neck.

“Giyuu, where was your mind? I’ve been calling your name for five minutes.” the man chuckled

Giyuu smiled, glancing back to the window before snapping his vision back to his husband. “J…just thinking of our anniversary.”

his husband hummed, closing the buttons of his suit. “anniversary?” he chuckled, burning a hole into Giyuu’s chest. “our anniversary was two months ago.”

Giyuu glanced at the calendar on his refrigerator, looking at the heart over today’s date.

His husband followed the look, panic rushing through his body. “Uh—uhm I mean, I, I was thinking of your birthday..!”

‘my birthday was two days ago.’ he thought

Giyuu looked back to the window, no longer seeing the picture of his fantasies. ‘where’d [name] go?’

his husband came behind him, palming his ass and resting his chin on Giyuu’s shoulder, disregarding his obvious discomfort. “are you mad at me?” his husband moaned into his ear, harshly rubbing his front against Giyuu’s back.

Giyuu remained silent, earning a harsh thrust “oh, I’m sorry Giyuu, I’ve just been so busy. but, I promise, when I get back, we’ll celebrate all you want.”

“Get back? where are you going?” Giyuu asked softly, not surprised by his husband’s actions.

“I have a business meeting with Rengoku. It’ll last a week. I’m sorry!”

Giyuu nodded, moving away from the man to pick up a banana from the table. “Well, you better go now, I forgive you.”

his husband smiled, placing a quick peck on his forehead. “I swear, I’ll make it up to you when I get back.”

Giyuu nodded, undoing his apron to take a shower.

“oh! I called [name] over to fix the sink, he should be over later.”

Giyuu stopped his movements, feeling heat rush to his face. “ok, love you.”

as fast as his husband had entered the kitchen, he was gone, leaving with only a distracted “mhm.”

Giyuu continued to his room, removing the rest of his clothing to begin his showering process. he pulled a basket from under his sink labeled ‘[name]’ and continued on his way, reliving his fantasy from earlier.

he felt a smile etch its way onto his face, burning into his features

“I’ll see [name] soon…

[queenbee298]

Imagine this :

the reader got attacked by a bully and the toys are taking care of it !?? But the bully comes back to finish them of but got stoped by them and then meet some old toys from the Factory !!??? What do you think ??

And if it's okay with you.... can you add my OC in your story....??? I'll add them their pictures :

Jasper :

He's an unfinished experience who "supposed to be a human.." he's a skeleton but now, he's half human/toy.... He's dating Kissy missy (my ship) and he was with Doey protecting "Safe Heaven", but he got interrupted and go find a plane to kill the Prototype... He got badly injured by the fight, but doesn't care.... If he meet the reader it's because he escaped with his BEST FRIEND Wuggy from the Factory and go find the others he's a sweet boy, but VERY Insecure about himself.... He's scared of not being good enough or strong for the others... He also can't sleep.... The only way is that he sleep with Kissy missy WITHOUT Poppy (he hate her....specially after what she did....)

Wuggy : (my son)

He's similar to Kissy and wuggy but instead of a close smile his is open and he CAN talk !! He's the CLOSEST friends of Jasper and help him with his plans of destroyed the Prototype, but just like Jasper he got injured but not as much as Jasper.... He's a really shy guy and always helpful, he's the only one (with Kissy and Doe) who can calm him when he see Poppy....

I really hope I didn't asked too much but thanks again !!!

Thank you for requesting another story and with your OC’s, this will be fun. Request #5 Enjoy the story. A warning before I start the story. There will be some blood, violence, and bad language in this story.

👊🏾👊🏾👊🏾👊🏾👊🏾👊🏾👊🏾👊🏾👊🏾👊🏾👊🏾👊🏾👊🏾👊🏾👊🏾👊🏾 As you and the toys were outside talking, playing games, or just relaxing. Two troublemaker came into the forest where you lived. They were loud and rude people from the city. They trespassed and threw eggs and toilet paper in your house. They called you the forest witch just because you lived in the forest alone, before you took the toys in. You noticed them coming and told the toys to hide away.

Bully 1: “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Y/N, the forest witch!”

Y/N: “What do you want?”

Bully 1: “Oh nothing, it’s been awhile since you disappeared.”

Bully 2: “Where’d you go? The create some new spells?”

The toys weren’t happy to see someone disrespecting you.

Y/n: “You two are so childish. Just leave me alone before I call the police again.”

One of the bullies got close to you and threaten you.

Bully 2: “You won’t do shit! And if you say something, I’ll beat the fuck out of you.”

You got angry and threw a punch at his nose. He’s nose started bleeding and he’s other friend grabbed you from behind and held you tightly. The other one you took out a knife and cut your cheek. Your cut began bleeding.

The toys had enough and attacked the bullies.

The mini critters, Kissy, Wuggy, and Poppy rushed to your side worrying about your cut. Doey, Yarnaby, and Jasper ran to attack the bullies. Yarnaby claws scratched one of the bullies eyes and the Doey and Jasper began to beat up the other one.

Y/n: “Guys, that’s enough!”

Jasper: “But they hurt you!”

Y/n: “Enough!”

You never raised your voice at them, but reluctantly, they let the bullies go. One had teeth marks and a scratched eye. The other had bruises and black eyes. You walked over to the boys, took the knife one of the bullies and cut the bully’s cheek.

Y/n: “If you ever fucking come back here, I’ll make they kill you. Now take your little friend and go home!”

The bullies left the forest. The toys and you went be into the house to patch yourself up.

Wuggy: “Mom/Dad, who were those people?”

Jasper: “And why did you stop us?”

Y/n: “Those two are troublemakers in the city. They come here for time-to-time and harass me or throw shit at my house.”

The toys were shock to hear some people would do that to you.

Doey: “Do they hurt you?”

Y/n: “Except from today, no. I’ve called the police on them before, but nothing changed.”

Doey: “Why didn’t you let us stop them!? Aren’t you angry at them?”

Y/n: “I am, but violences shouldn’t be the answer and you guys nearly killed them. I’m sure they’ll leave us alone now. Now let’s get ready for dinner.”

It was a silent dinner, the toys were still on edge out the bullies and during bedtime they kept their guards up in case something happened.

Hours later, you all were asleep, but you had an uninvited guest. One of the bullies broke into your house for revenge. Doey, Yarnaby, and Jasper woke up.

Yarnaby let out a growl that woke up.

Y/n: “Yarnaby, is something wrong?”

Jasper: “Don’t worry, mom/dad. Everything is okay. Just go back to sleep.”

You were still tired, so you fell back to sleep.”

Doey: “I’m going to kill that motherfucker…”

Jasper: “This time, no one will stop us.”

The toys were out to look for the bullies and put an end to him.

Bully: “You got lucky,you little bitch, but this time, I’ll kill you.”

Jasper: “I don’t think so.”

Bully: “Who’s there? Come out! You and your freak friends will pay!”

Jasper: “I don’t think so. You won’t hurt y/n. And if you do… We’ll just make a game out of you. Oh, Yarnaby.”

Yarnaby came running are the bully, growling and opening his face at him. The bully ran in fear to the door, but there was no escaping down.

Doey was waiting for him. He was in the vents and took his arms and reached out for the bully. He covered his mouth so his screams wouldn’t wake you up. Yarnaby caught up to him and Doey slowly fed the bully to Yarnaby.

After that, they cleaned up the bloody mess and went back to bed. Now with them around no one will hurt you.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸Well I hoped you all liked this story. This one was fun to make and thank you again for requesting this story. See you next time <3!

[awkward-walking-potato]

Could you do a request with 15 and 16

With Logan where the reader dresses as him for Halloween

Costume Confusion

The Xavier mansion was decked out for Halloween, glowing with a hauntingly warm ambiance as orange lights flickered, fake spider webs clung to corners, and the unmistakable scent of pumpkin and cinnamon wafted through the air. The annual Halloween party was in full swing, with mutants of all ages wearing creative and occasionally ridiculous costumes. You, however, had been feeling a little uninspired this year.

As you scanned the room filled with witches, superheroes, and a very awkward-looking Cyclops in a vampire cape, you finally saw Logan — dressed as… Logan. Of course. His costume was simple: his usual flannel shirt, jeans, and that familiar leather jacket. No costume needed for someone who already embodied a legend.

But tonight, you had something special planned for him. Smiling to yourself, you snuck out of the crowd and headed to the room where you had stashed your last-minute costume. Logan didn’t know about it yet, but you were sure his reaction would be priceless.

When you emerged, your transformation was complete: flannel shirt half-open over a white tank top, jeans, and boots — the closest match you could find to Logan’s signature look. You’d even managed to get your hands on some claw-like props. You knew it wasn’t perfect, but it was the thought (and the teasing) that counted.

With your heart racing just a bit, you made your way back into the party, spotting Logan leaning against the wall, drink in hand, surveying the scene with his usual gruff demeanor. His eyes were scanning the crowd until they landed on you.

For a split second, his brows furrowed, like he was trying to process what he was seeing. Then, as you approached with a swagger mimicking his, his lips quirked into a lopsided smirk.

“Is that supposed to be me?” Logan’s voice was low, the familiar growl softened by a trace of amusement.

You grinned, giving a mock snarl as you raised your clawed hands. “I’m the best there is at what I do,” you said in your best (but terrible) Logan impression, drawing out the claws with a dramatic flair.

Logan chuckled, shaking his head as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I know you’re tryin’ to be scary, darlin’, but you’re just way too cute.”

Your grin widened as you took a step closer, meeting his gaze. “I couldn’t find a costume, so I just decided to go as my partner,” you said with a playful shrug. “Figured it’d be easy. All I needed was some flannel, jeans, and an unshakable sense of grumpiness.”

He snorted, his smirk growing as he looked you up and down, clearly fighting to keep his amusement under control. “Well, you nailed the flannel and jeans. But the grumpiness? Nah. You’re too damn cheerful for that.”

“Maybe I’ll work on my brooding for next year.” You leaned in a bit, still grinning. “What do you think? Do I pass as a mini-Wolverine?”

Logan’s eyes softened for a moment as he reached out, gently tugging at the sleeve of your flannel shirt. “You look better in this than I ever could,” he muttered, and you could see the faintest hint of affection in his rough features.

You chuckled, slipping your hand into his, feeling the calluses of his rough palm against yours. “Thanks, old man.”

“Old man, huh?” He raised an eyebrow but didn’t let go of your hand, giving it a squeeze instead. “Careful who you’re callin’ old when you’re dressed like me. People might get confused.”

You laughed, the sound mixing with the festive atmosphere around you. The two of you stood there for a moment, comfortable in each other's presence as the party buzzed around you. It was a contrast to the wild costumes and energy of the night, but that was part of what made it special. With Logan, you didn’t need over-the-top antics—just being by his side was enough.

After a beat, Logan glanced down at your makeshift claws. “Where’d you get those?”

“Made ’em myself,” you replied, lifting your hand to wiggle the faux claws. “Not as sharp as the real deal, but they’ll do.”

Logan grinned, his eyes crinkling slightly at the edges. “Good thing. Don’t need you shreddin’ up the mansion tryin’ to be me.”

“Well, maybe if you’d let me use the real ones, we wouldn’t have that problem,” you teased, knowing full well how he’d react.

Logan shook his head, his chuckle deep and warm. “Not a chance, darlin’.”

As the party carried on, you both lingered near the edge of the room, watching the chaos unfold—kids running around in costume, the X-Men mingling and enjoying a rare night of peace. It was fun to be part of it all, but with Logan beside you, it felt like your own little moment, a quiet pause in the middle of the festive storm.

Leaning against him, you felt his arm wrap around your shoulders, pulling you just a little closer. He might not have been the type to dress up for Halloween or join in on the party games, but Logan was there with you, and that’s all that mattered.

You tilted your head to look up at him, catching his eye as he glanced down at you. “So, do I win for best costume or what?”

Logan gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. “You win, sweetheart. Hands down.”

“Thought so,” you muttered, grinning as you leaned into his warmth, the sounds of Halloween fading into the background as the two of you enjoyed the night in your own way.

[waffledforbreakfast]

First Date- [MUTI! BLLK X F!READER]

(SEPARATE) pt3

Staring: Otoya, Karasu, Reo

pt1: Rin, Sae, Kaiser

pt2: niko, kaiser, ness

[ BLLK Scenario Masterlist ]

TW: heavy ooc, bad grammar, bad spelling, bad formatting, cringe, scuff, etc.

>Otoya

[Mall outing]

You stared at the time on your phone, it read 11:59pm. You two were supposed to meet up 29 minutes ago.

You sighed and shook your head, you couldn’t say you were surprised, but still. You assumed Otoya had some human decency in him. So you told yourself you’d wait 30 minutes. If he still didn’t show, then maybe you’d give Karasu a call and see if he was busy…

You looked back at your phone, 11:59 turning into 12:00.

You mentally facepalmed for ever thinking Otoya would actually show and got ready to leave.

Just then, you heard you name getting screamed across the mall from behind you

“[Y/N]!” Otoya collapsed on to your back, trying to catch his breath, “Sorry I’m-... A bit late-”

You gave him a judgmental look while pushing him lightly off you “A bit?? Where were you!? I waited for 30 minutes!!”

“Yea about that..” he laughed awkwardly while brushing himself off “I forgot…”

You glared at him, slightly pissed. “Why did I ever agree to this…” you rubbed your temples “Should’ve gone out with Karasu instead..” you mumbled the last part before composing yourself 

“So- wanna grab some food? I’m kinda hungry…” he asked you while eyeing another women. What a great start to your first date.

You calmed yourself before agreeing, and the two of you made your way to the food court.

You were quite hungry as well, waiting for Otoya took much longer than you would’ve thought. So the two of you stood at the Churro stand while browsing the menu.

“Let me pay” Otoya offered with a smirk “As an apology for being late.”

You gave him a skeptical nod, “... You brought your wallet- right?”

His face froze for a second, before he started digging through his pockets.

Your eye twitched as you placed your order (and Otoya’s bc he always get the same thing) and pulled out your card to pay

But before you could tap, Otoya did instead, and the payment went through (surprisingly)

You gave him an amused smile as he gave a smug one (more to himself than you) seeming proud to have found his wallet

“Great job so far Eita.” He thought to himself, “10/10 date, I’m sure she’s in absolute amazement at my rizz.”

He took the Churros from the worker with a wink and handed you yours. Otoya smiled before taking a bite of his, “So, where’d you like to go?”

“Hm… there’s a new clothing shop nearby… how bout we check it out?”

Otoya nodded before following you closely, soon entering the store.

He helped you pick a few outfits out, and surprisingly, he knew exactly what you were comfortable in and what you looked good in. He even carried the bags for you after!

You two wandered around a bit more, stopping by whatever shops you felt like. He won a few claw machine games for you, and even hit on the cashier for a free donut(also for you-)!

As your date slowly came to an end, he made a short but proper apology for being late, and offered to walk you to the station.

Before you hopped on the train, you gave him a quick kiss and a wave, heading off

He’d never admit it, but he was blushing for the next 20min XD

>Karasu

[Seasonal Festival]

You looked at the map on your phone as you followed the path to your destination. He had invited you to the annual Lantern Rite, and you’ve never been before so you figured you should get there early/while it wasn’t entirely dark yet.

“Should be around here…” you mumbled, seeing that you're in the right area on the map- before bumping slightly into someone.

“Hey, thought you’d be here early.” Karasu laughed, seeing your surprised expression

“I- yea…” you were a bit flustered to be caught

Karasu laughed even more, and you just glared at him as he did so. “Sorry sorry- *wheeze* I’m fine now” he gave you a smile before reaching out his hand, “Here, let me hold your things for you.” he took the bag off your shoulders and carried it before intertwining your fingers with his, “You ready to go?”

He took you around the festival while commenting, “This year’s theme is Kites, have you flown one before?” He turn to look at you, still holding your hand

You thought for a second before responding, “When I was younger, yes. But it’s been a while.”

Karasu gave you a smug smirk, “Well, I’m basically a pro. Here, let’s try.”

He guided you to the dock selling kites before looking around. He was about to get one before realizing that it was the most popular. Then he worried about looking mediocre in front of you and decided against it, only to get it in the end because ‘it’s the best one there’.

He hoped that you didn’t see him argue with himself as he walked over to where you were looking. It was the child's section.

“Karasu look! This one’s a crow!” You showed him the kite you picked with a smile

He tried to keep in a laugh “Cute, I mean, if you like it.”

The boy paid before following you out to fly. The scenery was beautiful, kites everywhere, lanterns lighting up the festival, and the quiet chitter-chatter of the bystanders on the lower floors. And yet his eyes could only focus on you.

You unwrapped the string of your kite, standing at the edge of the wooden flooring while Karasu leaned on the edge of the railing, watching you with a smile.

As you finished setting up, you looked at him with an amused expression, “So, you gonna do yours too? Or just watch me?”

He was snapped out of his trance before turning his back against you to hide his red face and starting unwrapping his kite too

The two of you got ready to fly them, Karasu did a little countdown. “3, 2, 1!”

You both let go of your kites as you watched them soar, your’s immediately going higher than his. The two kites looked so pretty flying above the ocean water, you watched them in awe.

Karasu was a bit salty that yours was higher than his, but seeing the smile on your face made it worth it. Still, he thought he was a bit mediocre because he couldn’t show off to you.

The two of you made small talk as you watched the kites and he watched you also your kite

“You look really beautiful, you know?” Karasu suddenly blurted out, trying to keep his smile as calm as possible

You struggled to form a sentence for a second, but then whispered out a “Thank you” (his face was redder than yours LOL)

After you pulled your kite back in, the two of you set off to wander the festival a bit more. Karasu bought you some tanghulu and sparklers (those sticks you wave around?)

As the day came to an end, he offered to bring you home as it was dark out. The two of you walked hand in hand as he delivered you home.

“Thank you for joining me today, [Y/N].” he thanked you with a smile

“Of course, thank you for taking me out.” you gave him a quick kiss before heading inside your house “Safe trip home!” 

He nodded before smiling to himself, internally freaking out over the small action. This Lantern Rite was his favourite, and probably will be for many years to come.

>Reo

[Art museum]

You entered the wide doors of the art exhibit, carefully surveying your surroundings, well aware that some of the “art” here cost more than your life (even if it’s just a canvas that looks like it’s been pissed on)

“My my, who knew that art could be so hot? Maybe I should pin you to a wall” you looked Reo up and down, jokingly flirting 

He turned around and frowned, before rolling his eyes with an amused smile “Hello to you too. I was just looking at this actual piece of art.” He turned back around to an empty glass on display 

“...” You looked at the piece, then back at him, “Is that an Ikea cup-”

“It’s art. Don’t think too much of it.” he took your hand and dragged you away “shh, the owner gave us-well, me- early entry tickets, that’s the whole reason why we’re here. And he’s literally watching us.” he whispered to you under his breath, bringing you to the next room.

You composed yourself and tried to act as sophisticated as Reo (though you wondered how he kept a straight face). There were a few people gathered around this piece, you wondered what could cause such an attraction. You were about to push your way through before Reo brought you around the few people instead.

Once you saw it, your eyes shot open and you tried to hold down a laugh. But that back-fired horribly and you started choking. 

Reo hits you lightly on the back, not to help you stop choking, but to tell you to compose yourself. Though he himself was having a hard time not breaking down in front of the art and all the rich people staring at them

You cleared your throat, and stood up straight (A/N: YOU TOO READER- I SEE YOU AND YOUR SHRIMP POSTURE) “Ah yes, what a wonderful piece of… art.” you scrunch your face at the art in question on display

It was a simple stone carving, not having many surfaces, giving it a geometric look. The edges were smooth, clearly being cut carefully, the piece looking much like… a ‘rocket ship’.

“The rock must be… very hard” You gave a weak smile, trying not to laugh

This time Reo was the one to break, even if it were just for a second. He quickly stifled the laugh though, but you felt a bit of pride in getting him to break.

“Hey, this rock must get wet pretty often, huh?” you nudged Reo lightly.

You were speaking fairly quietly to only be heard by him, but someone else seemed to have heard you. 

“Yes, you are quite right.” an older man approached you, “This is one of my best pieces, made from a special rock that comes from the sea. The natural wetness made it a wonderful material to work with!!” he gave a gleeful smile

“You don’t say? It looks beautiful, the shape is amazing, so much thought must’ve gone into it!” you doubled down and returned a smile, matching him in enthusiasm.

He nodded, very excited “Yes yes! Finally, a true art connoisseur! I’ll tell you what, I’ve carved a smaller version of this piece, it is available in the gift shop if you ask.” he quickly scribbled down a note and handed it to you “Just give them this and they’ll let you buy it” he gave you a quick wink before going back to assisting the other people there

You turned to Reo with a smile, and he was trying his hardest to keep a laugh in. His face turned slightly red from doing so. He let out a quiet wheeze followed by the quietest laugh. You covered your mouth and did the same, very amused at the recent interaction. It took Reo a good few minutes to recover, you had to drag him away from the room to not offend the artist.

You quickly walked past the other exhibits before reaching a small isolated locker area. Reo immediately lost it, he fell to his knees, laughing his ass off “OMG YOU DID NOT JUST DO THAT LMAOOOOO” his laughs echoed through the small corridor, soon followed by yours. The two of you couldn’t believe what just happened, you were impressed with your quick thinking. After the two of you had a good laugh, you helped him off the floor “Did you want to go back to look at the other exhibits?”

“Nah not really” he brushed himself off, “Did you want to go to the gift shop and pick up your carving?”

You grinned and made your way over to the store. Reo held the door open for you as you entered, looking around. 

“Damn…” it quickly hit you that the things in here were all very expensive.

Reo walked up to the cashier with a small wave, he gestured for you to come over as well. You pulled out the slip of paper and handed it to the worker who read through it quickly and nodded before disappearing into the back.

“So, how much do you think it is?” Reo asked you while leaning on the counter 

You shrugged “I dunno, like $200?” You’ve never gone to an art museum before and it showed

Reo gave you a questioning smile “Really? Just $200?”

“Fine, how much do you think it is!?”

“Like $50k+” Reo laughed, but he seemed serious 

The worker came back out with the miniature carving, placing it carefully on the table. “That’ll be $52k” she smiled at him.

Reo smiled back before pulling out a cheque and filling it out quickly before slipping it to them

You, on the other hand, were flabbergasted. $52k for a rock?? You couldn’t even begin to comprehend that.

Reo took the bag from the worker and handed it to you, “Take good care of it okay?”

You held the item carefully, “Thank you, Reo… This is a lot tho-”

He waved it off “It’s nothing, really. Barely make a dent in my account.”

You gave him a hug and he laughed, “Is that all?”

You looked up at him questioningly. He pointed at his lips with a smirk

You rolled your eyes before leaning in and giving him a quick kiss. But before you could pull away, he held you by your waist and pulled you back in for another.

“Mm, much better.” he smiled, still not letting go of you “I’d say that was well worth $52k”

You pushed yourself off playfully, “Whatever you say, rich boy.”

Reo laughed, “Let’s get you home, love.”

A/N: d

[advisorykitty]

I NEED CAT-NAP PART 2 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭ME AND OOMFS R UR BIGGEST FANS

Rat Runners and Fury

How could i say no to my biggest fans! ^_^ this also gave me a good reason to write lmao

The day started innocently enough. The Ivory household was relatively quiet for once. Nyen wasn’t stomping around, Nyon was “borrowing” more magazines from who-knows-where, Randal and Sebastian had gone and some odd adventure something about cody at the gas station Master Luther was resting and the ratmen were… well, alive and causing chaos somewhere as usual. Perfect time for a little covert operation: feeding the ratmen. Again.

You crouched low in the pantry, carefully packing up a small stash of scraps—half a loaf of bread, some almost-cheese, and a suspiciously soft apple. “Alright, guys,” you whispered, peeking into the crack in the wall. “You know the drill.”

Robert poked his head out, his nose twitching nervously. “You sure about this?” he whispered back. “Last time, Nyen nearly turned me into a throw rug.”

“Relax,” you said, stuffing the food into a small cloth bag. “I’ll handle Nyen if he shows up. Now, hurry up before he—”

“HEY!”

Too late.

Nyen’s voice roared from somewhere down the hall, and the ground shook slightly as his heavy boots stomped closer. The ratman froze, his eyes mildly wide.

“Run!” you hissed, tossing the bag into Robert’s thands.

The ratman bolted, scurrying through the cracks and crevices of the house with impressive speed. You spun around just in time to see Nyen appear in the doorway, his eyes blazing with fury.

“TRAITOR!” he bellowed, pointing an accusatory claw at you. “You’re feeding them again?! You sneaky little—!”

“What?” you said, feigning innocence. “They looked hungry.”

“They’re always hungry!” Nyen snapped. “And you’re making it worse! Where are they?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said, shrugging. “Maybe you should… cool off a little?”

Wrong answer. Nyen’s tail lashed like an angry whip as he stormed past you, sniffing the air like a bloodhound. “I can smell them,” he growled. “Where’d they go?”

You followed him, keeping a safe distance as he stomped through the house. Meanwhile, you casually dropped little clues for the ratmen to follow—a tap on the wall here, a soft whistle there. You couldn’t see them, but you knew they’d pick up on the signals.

Nyen suddenly stopped, his ears twitching. “There!” he snarled, lunging toward a small crack near the baseboard.

“Um-! not so fast!” you said, stepping in his way. “Maybe you should think this through. You’re scaring the rats.”

“Good!” Nyen barked, shoving past you. “They deserve it!”

In the next room, you heard the faint scuffle of feet. Robert was close to his escape route. You quickened your pace, throwing Nyen off just enough to give them more time.

“Over there! They went that way!” you shouted, pointing in the opposite direction.

Nyen paused, glaring at you suspiciously. “Why are you helping me all of a sudden?”

“Maybe I’m tired of stale bread,” you said with a smirk.

He didn’t buy it for a second. With a guttural growl, he turned back toward the crack in the wall, but it was too late. The ratmen had already slipped through their escape hole and disappeared into the labyrinth of tunnels beneath the house.

“NO!” Nyen roared, slamming his fist against the wall. “Goddamn rodents! Traitors! EVERYONE IN THIS HOUSE IS A TRAITOR!”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Better luck next time, big guy.”

Nyen turned on you, his face a mask of pure rage. “You think this is funny?! You think you can just waltz around here undermining me?!” He stepped closer, his chest heaving. “You’re worse than the rats. Worse!”

“Aw, you say the sweetest things,” you said, grinning.

That was the final straw. Nyen snarled, grabbed your shoulder, and shoved you back. You stumbled but quickly recovered, twisting to throw off his grip with a dramatic, exaggerated spin. The move sent you both off balance for a second—comically enough to make even Nyen pause in confusion.

“What the fuck was that?!” he bellowed, his tail swishing furiously. “You’re messing with me now! ON PURPOSE?!”

“Sure am,” you said with a grin. “And I’m winning!”

Nyen let out a guttural scream of frustration, storming off down the hall while shouting a barrage of curses that grew increasingly incoherent. You caught words like “ungrateful,” “goddamn meddler,” and something that sounded suspiciously like a threat to ship you to Siberia.

You watched him go, trying not to laugh too loudly. “Better luck next time,” you muttered to yourself.

“You… stop,” came a thickly accented voice from behind you.

You turned to see Nyon standing there, holding a half-eaten pickle and looking unusually serious. His eyes—normally glassy and disinterested—were fixed on you with surprising intensity.

“Stop?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Stop what?”

“Annoying Nyen,” Nyon said slowly, his Russian accent thicker than usual. He gestured vaguely with the pickle. “Not… good. He… uh… very mad. Not safe.”

“What’s he gonna do? Growl at me some more?” you said, brushing it off.

Nyon shook his head, his expression unreadable. “No. He do…” He paused, struggling to find the words. “He do… bad. You stop.”

“What kind of bad?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

Nyon opened his mouth to answer, but the sound of something crashing in the distance cut him off. He glanced over his shoulder, his usually relaxed demeanor slipping into something closer to… fear?

“You stop,” he repeated firmly, stepping closer. “Not joke. Big bad.”

Before you could press him further, he turned and shuffled away, muttering something in Russian under his breath.

You stood there, frowning, your mind racing. What did he mean by “big bad”? And why did he look so worried? Sure you pissed Nyen her and there but he wouldn't actually hurt you.. right?

Maybe this game with Nyen wasn’t as harmless as you thought…

(kinda short sowwy T-T)

[britishassistant]

Okay, going on with the Ultimate Villain Idea, Yuu eventually gets home pretty drained and each Villain boss separately has the idea to give Yuu a pamper day...only they can’t let their Villainous Reputation be tarnished, so they each “Kidnap” Yuu for a day.

Cue bad acting on from some of the sect members and them saying that this wasn’t planned. They just happen to see Yuu on the street. No the preprepared meals were just extras from dinner. No, Leona just so happened to kidnap Cheka and wasn’t because Cheka saw the news and was crying to see Yuu.

The only one who doesn’t “kidnap” Yuu is Malleus who is just shows up one day asking if they want to go for ice cream with the Diasomnia Sect. The public fears Malleus enough to assume it’s a hostage situation

Thank you for the ask, dear anon!

Yuu wakes up the next day feeling drained, bruises on their arms and around their middle so deep they’re surprised the skin hasn’t broken overnight.

They’re wincing as they lever themselves up from the couch and as they pull on the softest button up they have, the loosest jeans that are still work appropriate. They cringe as they think about how much it’s going to cost to repair the wall in their bedroom, let alone clean all the rubble from their bed and floor. They hobble to the door gingerly, wishing not for the first time that they had more hours of sick leave to use.

They open it to see rookie minions (and Grim) from nearly all the supervillains across the city standing on their doorstep, clearly mid-whispered argument.

“Yuu.” Deuce says, disappointed puppy-dog eyes big and sad.

“I told you!” Ace insists, stabbing a finger in their direction. “I told you that the big lug wasn’t lyin’! This overcompensating moron—!”

“Yuu.” Epel says, disappointed puppy-dog eyes lethal.

“I don’t know what this is.” Yuu says as they try to close the door only to find Sebek’s foot now wedged in the jamb. They have a fire escape by the hole in their bedroom, it’ll hurt but they can head out that way. “So I’m just gonna go—”

“Yuu.” Jack rumbles, arms folded and one eyebrow raised, unimpressed.

Yuu meets his gaze with their chin held high, fighting the urge to curl in on themselves and just hurt.

“Were you about to go to work?”

“This is entrapment.” Yuu declares. “I don’t have to answer that.”

Sebek throws up his hands with a wordless shout of disgust. Jack pinches the bridge of his nose with a warning rumble. Epel’s puppy-dog stare grows exasperated and incredulous. Grim begins yowling and digs his claws into their jean leg. Deuce’s grows even bigger and sadder than before. Ace begins gesticulating at them so wildly they’re concerned he’s going to smack a hand or elbow on the wall, hollering all the while. Ortho lets out an upset whir and balls his little hands into fists.

“Bedrest is important for your convalescence, Yuu-san!” The robot protests. “The notes the doctor transcribed on your state were very clear on that!!”

“How do you have access to my medical information?!” Yuu demands, eyes narrowing when Ortho tries to hide behind Sebek. “And besides, that jerk left rubble all over my bed and my bedroom. Forgive me for not wanting to do much heavy lifting right now, but…”

“Where’d ya think yer goin’?!” Grim howls from their ankle, still attached to their person and dragged along when they try to retreat strategically. “Y’can’t go t’ the TV station like this, minion! That big boss guy’ll kill ya with overwork!”

“Tsk.”

“This settles it.” Sebek folds his arms across his chest in a way they really dislike. “It is clear Yuuken spoke the truth on these matters. FELMIER! SHROUD! Notify Octo Dealer and Snake Charmer of their roles, AT ONCE!!”

Yuu barely has time to process the betrayal by their partner (damn Yuuken and his concern for their wellbeing!) when Epel and Ortho both snap sharp salutes and cry “ROGER!” before darting off for the stairs.

“Their roles?” They lurch forward, stumbling over Grim’s weight on their ankle. “Wait, hold on—!”

“Oops!” Ace swoops in to hook one of their arms over his shoulders. “Seems I’ve captured a helpless reporter! Nothin’ to do except bring ‘em back to Royal Flush, right, Two of Spades?”

“R-right!” Deuce appears on their other side, taking their other arm and most of their weight to boot. “R-resistance is futile, reporter! Ah, but I’m not hurting you though, am I?”

“You’re doing fine Deuce.” Jack decrees. “Remember, don’t leave ‘em alone for long—the Prefect’s on our side on this, but those RSA bastards might still try to start shit if they do something stupid. Ruggie and I’ll be by later to grab ‘em for King.”

“I’ll show you stupid.” Yuu grumbles mutinously as they’re delicately and carefully frogmarched to the elevator.

Though still, they grant somewhat grudgingly, at least if they’ve been kidnapped they can’t be penalized for taking a day off. And Royal Flush, Tsunotaro, and Posion Queen do have some very comfortable couches and daybeds…

“For the record, I’m very much under duress here.” They announce to the two minions and Grim. “And I’m probably going to be only good for lying down and sleeping. Is that fine with you?”

There’s gentle squeezes on both of their hands and Grim’s purrs ease some of the aching in their leg.

[wjhik]

Why Are You Doing This To Me?! (Jude Bellingham)

A/N: guys im way too proud of this one. so much angst so much heartbreak. gaslighter!jude so much fun PLEASE COMMENT ANYTHING I LOVE READING THEM

As my birthday approached, I clung to the hope that maybe, just maybe, tonight would be different. I planned a special dinner for just the two of us, maybe a chance to reconnect and rediscover the love Jude and I had lost over the past 5 years. I was there for him at his worst at Dortmund, and now his best at Madrid, but as the hours ticked by and Jude failed to show, any remaining hope turned to despair. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I blew out the candles to my homemade chocolate cake, as per Jude’s request, alone, the flickering flames a cruel reflection of my shattered dreams.

↭

I sat on the edge of Jude and I’s bed, my fingers tracing aimless patterns on the wrinkled sheets beneath me. The clock on the bedside table mocked me with each passing second, a cruel reminder of Jude's absence. He had been drifting further away with each passing day, lost in the shitty late-nights with his friends. Our once vibrant relationship had begun to crumble, leaving me alone to pick up the shattered pieces of my heart.

I had given everything up for Jude. I left everything I knew to come to Dortmund to be with him. I gave up scholarships to end up going to a shitty college in a country where I knew no one, but I never complained, because I was with the love of my life. A few years in, I had finally settled down, but Jude decided he was too good for Germany, so he made the move to Madrid with not a thought about me. He wouldn't hesitate to leave me behind if I didn’t make it work, but being the dumbass I am, I made it work. I moved out here to Madrid with him just for me to see him, if I’m lucky, twice a week, despite living together.

Unable to bear the silence of our empty house any longer, I made the decision. The decision I would regret forever. I went to Jude's regular bar, the place where he often chilled in the company of his friends. Pushing open the door, I was greeted by the familiar scent of stale beer and laughter. But, unexpectedly, Jude was nowhere to be found. My heart started pounding, thinking about the worst possible situations. I scanned the room to see a group of some of Jude’s teammates. I let out a sigh of false relief, suspecting maybe he was using the toilet or something. Desperation clawed at my chest as I approached Vini.

"Vini, have you seen Jude tonight?" I asked the Brazilian, my voice trembling with emotion, hoping and praying that he knew.

His eyes were glassy and unfocused, words slurred from far too many drinks. "Yeah, he left a while ago," he mumbled, pointing vaguely in the direction of the exit. “With someone…” He softly added on softly. “With who?!” I exclaimed. “Just one of his friends, don’t worry.” Luka adds on. “Where’d he go?” I asked, slightly shivering. “I don’t know.” They said, miserably lying. “Please.” I plead, tears in my eyes.

↭

I heart sank unhealthily deep in my chest as I shoved my phone back into my pocket, the address burning in the forefront of my mind. I started the 30-minute walk to the given location, all sorts of horrible thoughts in my head. Who is this friend? Do I know him? Why would Jude not tell me? Why were the guys keeping it a secret? Is he with another girl? 

↭

With trembling hands, I pressed the doorbell, my pulse racing with anticipation as if I had run 5 marathons with no break. The door swung open, revealing Jude. He was shirtless, bruises all over his uncovered chest, bruises I didn’t leave. He looked around briefly until his eyes meet my wet ones. “Y/N? What are you doing here?” Jude asked me, much too surprised for anything innocent, his voice tinged with guilt. Before I got the chance to reply, I heard a voice calling his name from the next room. I heard light footsteps approaching my boyfriend. “Baby, who’s there?” She asked. My heart instantly dropped. Anguish surged through my veins as the truth dawned on her. 

The beautiful woman wearing lacy lingerie and a silk robe places a kiss on the back of Jude’s neck before clinging onto his arm. “Can we help you?” She asked, far too nicely. My eyes filled with tears as I struggled to find my voice. "Who is she?" I whispered, ignoring the girl on Jude’s arm in my place and locking eyes with my ‘boyfriend’, my heart breaking with each and every word

Jude's gaze shifted uncomfortably, his grip on the other girl tightening. "She's just a friend," he insisted, but his words fell on my deaf ears. Her eyes widened as she realized who was standing at her front step.

A torrent of emotions flooded through me as I screamed all sorts of horrid curses at Jude, each accusation tearing at our already fragile bond. “You’re a cheating, lying bastard! All these fucking years I wasted on you, you’re going to throw that all away for this?! And on my fucking birthday?!” I couldn't understand how the man I loved with all my heart could betray me like this, how he could throw away everything we had built together for the sake of a fleeting moment of pleasure.

“Love, you’re hyperventilating. You’ll pass out at this rate. Please come inside.” The woman offers. She sat me down on her couch as I uncontrollably sobbed and screamed at Jude. She disappeared for a moment into her kitchen and came back with a glass of water. 

Our argument echoed through the empty hallway, or should I say my yelling, because Jude had nothing to say. All of my insecurities that Jude has ever reassured bubbled to the surface, fueled by years of my doubt and his neglect. I was small and insignificant. I didn't matter in Jude's eyes anymore. I didn’t matter in anyone’s eyes. 

Jude stepped away from my shaking body to cross paths with his ‘new girl’. I couldn’t hear everything except for something along the lines of: “You’re right, Jude. She’s not well. She needs help.” It sounded sympathetic. I stood up and continued yelling. “You made me seem like I’m fucking crazy! You fucking asshole, you ruined everything! Anybody would go crazy with all the shit you put me through!” The two got startled and came over to comfort me once again. I felt like I was nothing. Nothing but a mentally ill, crazy bitch. I felt like it was all my fault. Maybe Jude wasn’t wrong to cheat on me. “It’s okay, darling. Just breathe.” The girl comforts me. 

↭

Somewhere along the lines of screaming and crying, I had given out and fallen asleep on my boyfriend’s side chick’s couch. This was probably my lowest point ever. My eyes shot open and the tears fell out once again. I looked around to see no one there. I heard a sweet voice coming from the other room. I went over to see Jude on her bed, head in his hands, and her hugging and comforting him. Jude looked up and immediately shot up. He moved towards me and hugged me. 

"Y/N, let's go home. You’re so exhausted." he said softly, his eyes pleading for forgiveness.

I hesitated, torn between the desire to lash out at this fucker who broke my heart and the girl he broke it with or the longing for comfort they both were giving me. But in the end, I nodded, allowing Jude to drive me back to our shared house. The journey was filled with a heavy silence, the weight of his unspoken words hanging in the air like a thick fog, my words were all spoken. I laid my head on the window, unable to hold back my tears.

As we entered the house, once called a home, the tension between us was obvious. You could break it with the dullest of knives. I looked at the man I once loved who didn’t hesitate to throw me aside like a broken toy. But to my own surprise, I wasn’t leaving. I always preached about leaving your cheater boyfriends, but I truly had no one else.

"I'm not leaving," I said, my words hanging in the air like a lifeline. “I have nowhere else to go. You’re all I know."

And with those simple words, I thought the fragile remnants of our love were stitched back together, a patchwork of broken promises and shattered dreams, but I was wrong. 

"I have to go, Y/N," Jude's voice broke through the heavy silence, his words hanging in the air like a dark cloud.

My heart skipped a beat, confusion etched into every line of my face. What is he doing? I’m letting him have his happy ending. What the fuck is happening? "What do you mean?" I whispered, my voice barely audible in pure confusion.

Jude took a deep breath, his gaze filled with sadness and regret. "I'm leaving you, Y/N," he said, each word like a dagger to my heart. "Cassie… she's pregnant. I'm going to be a father, and I’m really happy about it."

The world seemed to spin out of control as I struggled to comprehend the enormity of Jude's betrayal. Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared at him, unable to find the words to express the depth of my pain. “Jude, I’m giving you what you want here. I’m supposed to be the independent woman and leave you, but I’m not. I’m staying. What the fuck are you doing to me?” I say, sobbing as I try to plead my case. 

“Y/N, please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” He said, walking into the bedroom to get his pre-packed suitcase, me trailing behind. “Listen, I was planning on doing this anyways. The house is all yours. I don’t need it.” He says, handing me his keys. I looked around at our house, all of his belongings were gone. How did I not notice? “Wait, Jude. Hold on. Why are you doing this to me-” I tried to say as Jude walked out of the room. “You’ll be fine.” He interrupted. He put his hand on the back of my head and kissed my forehead. And like that, he walked out of my life.

↭

Six years passed in a blur of heartache and longing. I watched helplessly as Jude built a new life with Cassie, our shared house now a distant memory. I thought I would accept it, but I never did. I couldn't change the past, couldn't erase the hurt and betrayal, and I knew that, but it didn’t help. All I could do was move forward, one painful step at a time, but I couldn’t. All of our pictures hung in my apartment, despite selling our house out of desperation. I couldn’t keep a job, always coming to work drunk and miserable, so I needed the money. 

Here I found myself standing outside a church, my heart heavy with sorrow and despair. I received an invitation to Jude's wedding, a cruel reminder of how that sick bastard ruined my life. But as I stepped inside the beautiful venue, my eyes fell on two familiar faces in the crowd.

Jude stood at the altar, his hand intertwined with the woman who ended it all, a big smile playing at the corners of his lips, bigger than when we were ever together. And beside them, a little boy with Jude's dark curly hair and soulful eyes, his resemblance to his father unmistakable. 

My heart hurt and felt heavy at the sight, a bittersweet and horrible mix of sadness and resignation washing over me like a tidal wave. I watched silently as Jude exchanged vows with the other woman, my heart breaking with each promise of love and fidelity. He promised her love, care, attention, and ironically honesty and loyalty. The same things he promised me almost 10 years ago, but here I am. A miserable guest while she’s his wife.

[bump1nthen1ght]

A Very Monstrous Kinktober: Day 26 (Masturbation)

Kink: Masturbation

Pairing: Mothman x GN!Reader

Other Kinks: Consensual Voyeurism, Mutual Masturbation

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1091 words

Kinktober Masterlist

There is a vivid squelch, silicone against lube, when you press the dildo into you. It’s loud, wet, and perfectly lewd. The kind of sound you’d hear amped up in volume in a schlocky porno or some hentai. It’s the kind of sound you’d avoid making in fear of being caught; But your partner is gone, has been for the past 3 days, to help in the forewarning of an oncoming disaster two states over.

And gods, how you have missed him.

A year ago you never thought you’d be this touchstarved, this desperate for affection for one man’s touch. You thought that kind of stuff was only in romance novels and smutty fanfiction, accepting that no human man was ever going to be that exciting, leaving you wanting so much more.

Well, you had been right about the human part, at least.

Still, your body ached for the soft feeling of your partner's fuzzy wings, his long fingers which always held onto your waist so gently. His ruby red eyes that seemed to stare directly into your soul, always filled with a gentlemanly love, even when he had you bent over a table.

“Hmmm, Atticus.” You moan, feeling the fake balls of your toy nudge against your entrance, sunken full inside of you. “It feels so good.”

Familiar with a…tool this size, you waste no time and begin to thrust it in and out, moaning your sweet partner's name as you do. You imagine his deep, southern drawl. His claws running down the side of your face. His antennae twirling and buzzing as you come undone for him.

You even imagine the familiar tapping on your window, the one he always uses to sneak into your bed late at night. So quiet despite being 7 feet tall.

“Oh my.”

And now you can even hear-

Wait.

Your eyes shoot open, sitting up from bed, realizing you now lie spread eagle in front of your very-real boyfriend who is very much actually present in your bedroom.

His antennas tutter back and forth, hand thrown over his mouth like a shocked 50s housewife. The dildo slides an inch out of you as you scramble upward, something like an excuse on your lips, face red hot with embarrassment.

“Did you miss me that much?” Your partner chuckles, lighthearted, a matching blush lighting up his black fur.

“I-” You stutter, wondering if he heard you calling out his name. You may have been dating for a year now, but still, being caught by your refined, almost-victorian gentleman partner is a little mortifying.

“Well, if it helps.” Atticus’ voice sinks to a lower octave, big eyes narrowed like a smirk. “I missed you a whole lot too.”

The hand around his mouth slides down his chest, leading your eye across his scrumptious body, right to his unsheathed cock.

When did he even get that out?

“C’mon baby.” Atticus drawls. “Keep going.” He sits down in a corner chair, stroking his swollen dick. “Gimme a show.”

A shiver rolls down your spine.

My god, where’d he learn to talk like that?

You ain’t complaining, slipping back to your comfortable position, making sure to keep your legs extra wide. You slide the dildo all the way back in.

Atticus hums in approval, hand rubbing at his flushed head.

“How's it feel?”

“Good.” You pant, slowly rocking the dildo in and out, making sure to press it extra hard with each thrust.

“As good as mine?” Mothman chuckles, rubbing some leaking precum down his shaft with his thumb.

You eye up his cock, biting your lip.

“No.” You gasp, the dildo hitting a particular sensitive spot, sending tingles down to your toes. “Not even close.”

“Hmm, but good enough while I was away?” His eyes shoot to the clear bottle of lube on your bedside table, almost halfway empty. “Seems it got put to work.”

“Couldn’t-” You breath hitches, spreading up your pace, “Couldn't h-help myself. Missed your cock so much.”

You throw your hips up, making a show of your entrance clenching around the thick shaft of the dildo. Lube and juices trickle down the curve of your ass.

Atticus remains dignified, silent as he lazily jerks himself off. But you know the signs by now, see the way his chest tightens and his antennae twitch.

“That right?” Atticus’ other hand reaches down and begins rubbing at the slit where his cock protrudes, an extra sensitive spot you're well acquainted with. “This cock missed you too.” He finally shows some sign of his pleasure, a small hitch in his articulation when he squeezes his head. “Missed that tight hole, missed filling it up.” He rolls his neck, a move he knows you love, showing off the sinewy muscle as it cracks. “Hmm, felt like torture, not being able to fuck you whenever I wanted.”

Your wrist aches and goes ignored, your focus solely on Atticus and the burning fire in your belly. You hang off every word like it’s gospel, letting it sink into your chest and stir up your insides.

“You got me addicted, honey. How could I resist coming home early?” Precum squirts out his head, splattering the top of his hand. “Knowing I’d have such a sweet little thing to greet me?”

Your moans are breathy, vision getting fuzzy are your orgasm climbs. Your brain wants to close them to ignore everything else and focus on your high, but you force them on Atticus. His cock twitches in his hands, and you think you can make out a low “Damn.” as he jerks it.

“You gonna cum?” Atticus asks.

All you can do is nod, head stuffed with cotton and legs trembling. You imagine it’s his cock, the cock in front of your eyes, fucking you open. That it's his hands wrapped around your hips, his pelvis in between your thighs.

Atticus leans forward, cock still humping into his palm, but those big eyes only on you.

“Then cum.”

“Ahh-nggh!” You keen, hips spasming as your orgasm wracks your body, exploding across your abdomen and miking your toy.

Your limbs feel heavy, sweat dripping down your chest. The toy slips out of you and you pant, leaving trails of lube on the bed. Its that post-orgams kind of high that has you going “Wait, what was I doing again?”

“Good job.”

You don’t even have the energy to react when you feel Mothman’s palm against your face, not even wondering how he moved over so quickly, now straddling your hips.

“Now, it’s my turn.”

[storytimewithnina]

Chaos Team (Deadpool and Wolverine)

Pairing: Deadpool(partners)xWolverin(partners)xY/N(partners)

Summary: In Madripoor, Y/N teams up with Wolverine and Deadpool, sparking unexpected romantic tension.

Words: 888

The neon lights of Madripoor buzzed overhead as you, Wolverine, and Deadpool strolled down the grimy streets. You had just wrapped up another "simple" mission that, thanks to Wade’s endless chatter and Logan’s habit of slicing through everything that annoyed him, had turned into a borderline apocalypse. But that was normal with these two, right?

“So, Y/N, did you see how I took down that whole group of mercenaries with just a spoon?” Wade grinned beneath his mask, clearly fishing for compliments.

You rolled your eyes, glancing over at Wolverine, who was already lighting up one of his cigars. “Yeah, Wade, it was a real spoon-tacular performance,” you replied dryly, folding your arms across your chest. “I’m sure the silverware industry will be knocking on your door any day now.”

Wolverine grunted in amusement, blowing a cloud of smoke into the night air. “You got a sharp tongue, kid. Kinda like it.”

You shot him a playful smirk. “Better than having claws for hands. How do you even eat with those things?”

Before Logan could answer, Deadpool jumped in, clearly not one to be outdone. “Oh, Y/N, you wound me! Here I am, the picture of pure, unadulterated heroism, and all you can do is mock my innovative combat techniques?”

“I wouldn’t call what you do ‘heroism,’ Wade,” you quipped back. “More like… accidental damage control.”

Logan chuckled, his eyes glinting in the dim light. “She’s got you there, Wade.”

Deadpool dramatically clutched his chest. “Y/N, my dear, are you trying to steal my schtick? There’s only room for one merc with a mouth around here, and you, my darling, are stealing my thunder!”

You rolled your eyes again, feeling a warmth creep up your cheeks at the way both of them seemed to zero in on every word you said. “Please, Wade. If I wanted to steal your thunder, I’d just unplug your Xbox.”

“Whoa, whoa, let’s not get crazy now,” Wade said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “No need to bring my precious console into this!”

Logan took a long drag from his cigar, eyeing you with a mixture of curiosity and something else you couldn’t quite place. “Where’d you learn to talk like that, Y/N? Not many people can keep up with Wade here.”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool. “When you’ve been around as many blockheads as I have, you either learn to hold your own or you end up as target practice.”

Wade sidled up next to you, his tone suddenly shifting from playful to oddly sincere. “Hey, Y/N, if we’re talking about blockheads, does this mean you think about me a lot? Because I gotta say, I’m flattered.”

You stared at him, deadpan. “You wish, Wade.”

“Every night,” he responded instantly, his voice full of mock wistfulness.

Logan stepped between the two of you, his expression serious as he looked down at you. “You’re good in a fight, Y/N. Got a sharp mind to go with that mouth of yours too. Makes me wonder why you’re still running with the likes of us.”

You held his gaze, noticing how his gruff exterior softened just a bit when he looked at you. “Maybe I just enjoy the company,” you said, surprising even yourself with how much truth was in that statement.

Wade squeezed in on the other side of you, nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah, you know, Y/N, we’re like the perfect team! Wolverine’s the brooding muscle, I’m the witty heart, and you… well, you’re the sassy brains that keep us both from doing something really stupid.”

“Is that so?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because last I checked, I’ve bailed both of your butts out of trouble more times than I can count.”

“And we appreciate it,” Logan said, his voice low and sincere. He met your eyes, and for a moment, the usual sharpness in his gaze softened.

You blinked, feeling a flutter in your chest. This was new. Logan wasn’t exactly the type to get sentimental, but the way he was looking at you right now… it made you wonder if there was more to his gruff exterior than he let on.

Wade, never one to miss an opportunity, leaned in close, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Y/N, are we having a moment here? Because I gotta say, if I wasn’t wearing this mask, you’d totally be able to see my smoldering gaze right now.”

You laughed, unable to help yourself. “Wade, if you took off that mask, the only thing I’d be seeing is nightmare fuel.”

“Ouch, Y/N! That cuts deep!” Wade clutched his heart again, but there was a grin in his voice.

Logan growled softly. “Enough, Wade. We’ve got work to do.”

But as he turned to lead the way, you didn’t miss the way his hand brushed against yours, lingering for just a second longer than necessary. You glanced at him, catching a fleeting look in his eyes before he turned away, his expression unreadable.

You smiled to yourself as you followed them. Maybe running with these two wasn’t so bad after all.

Wade fell into step beside you, chattering away about his latest harebrained scheme, but your mind was elsewhere. Between Deadpool’s relentless humor and Wolverine’s unexpected warmth, you realized you were in deeper than you thought.

And maybe, just maybe, that wasn’t such a bad thing.

[tadpolesonalgae]

Are you up to write something for poly!feysand x reader? Maybe a little darker.

I found your account recently and I'm obsessed with everything you wrote.

A Court of Nightmares!Feysand x reader: Beg for It[***]

A/N: Pretty filth, as promised. Also thank you so much for this ask, I was elevated to a higher plane while writing this 😭💖

Summary: The High Lord overhears your treasonous thoughts and decides to have his High Lady help with your punishment.

Warnings: Dub-con, humiliation, degradation, pussy eating (reader receiving), oral (m!receiving), threesome fmf, edging?,

The cold granite always sucks the warmth from the room. In spite of the terracotta rug you have on the hewn floor, and the paprika infused bedcovers, everything’s grey. Having to live here day after day after day after day, it sucks your life away from you before you even get a chance to live it. Simply wasting away beneath the rock of the mountain.

And yet the High Lord and Lady come and go as they please. They’re free to travel the land in ways you’ll never be permitted to. Hatred burns beneath your skin, resentment bitter in your mouth.

Your head is yanked back, sharply, a slim arm curling around your waist as a female body presses into you. You’re paralysed, completely taken out of your own control as you freeze. “Hello there, little traitor.” A shiver zaps down your spine at the cruelly lilting tone of the High Lady. What was she doing here?

A laugh rings from her dark painted lips, the sound empty and cold, “don’t panic,” she drawls, nails biting into your sides as her canines nip at your ear, “or maybe do, considering those treasonous thoughts you were practically screaming at us in the feasting hall.” Dread coils in your lower belly, solidifying into terror.

She laughs again as she scents your fear, nosing at the soft skin of your neck. “Not so aggressive now, are you?” She croons, hand releasing your hair to curl around your throat, “come on, where’d all that fight go?” She yields a seed of control, allowing your words to return.

You grit your jaw, the muscles trembling. You know what she’s capable of with those daemati abilities. You feel it as her lips slice into a wicked grin over the pulse point of your neck. “Silence isn’t going to cut it, little traitor. I suggest you start answering before I loose my temper.”

Terror thrums through your blood, singing for you to run, screaming at you to submit to escape whatever she has planned. You swallow, “damn you to hel.” The words come out as a rasp beneath the squeeze of her fingertips, sharp claw-like nails biting into your skin.

With powers you can only dream of, she drags your bedside table until it presses against your hips, forcing you to lean over roughly. “You brought this on yourself, pretty liar. Remember that when you’re screaming for us to stop.” Her hands forcefully push you down onto the desk, bending you over and your body complies, wilfully following her cold commands as she shoves your skirts up.

Her breasts press into your back as she leans into you, squishing you between her own lean body and the table. One hand slips beneath your waist, snaking between your legs as she cups you. You take in a sharp breath, freezing in shock at the invasion. Her canines nip against your neck as she opens her mouth over the sensitive skin, “scared, little traitor?” Her nimble fingers push further between your legs, her middle and forefinger pressing at your entrance as silver lines your eyes.

“There exist a multitude of methods to torture without resorting to violence,” she croons, “surely you’re aware of that.” You swallow, balling your hands into fists, thinking of every year you’ve spent trapped beneath the rock, kept from the outside. You grit your teeth, making a choice, “I’ve been kept beneath this mountain my entire life while you’re free to travel as you please,” you snarl, “I understand well enough.”

The sharp talons jutting from her fingertips dig into the bare skin of your inner thigh, making you hiss. “I wouldn’t want to make this any worse for yourself, pretty liar,” she purrs, hand dipping beneath your flimsy slip of fabric, fingers locating your clit effortlessly.

You’re surprised by her bold moves, and by the shock of pleasure that flows from your nerve endings. You jolt, dropping onto the table, forearms bracing you as you inhale sharply; exhale heavily. She laughs wickedly, “I didn’t expect you to crumble so easily,” she croons, circling the sensitive area repeatedly. “Who would’ve thought,” she drawls, “and after all that heat of hating us for being able to leave at our pleasure.”

Her hands leave you and you seize the chance to scramble for your composure. That is, until she kneels behind you, tendrils of darkness wrapping up your thighs and lower back to keep you tied to the table. You gasp when her thumbs gently pull at the soft, wet skin around your entrance, spreading you wider. Hot embarrassment flushes your cheeks, “what the hel are you doing?”

She laughs darkly from behind you, thumbing at your sopping hole, “No guesses? I’m sure I’d be delighted to hear your ideas.” Your thighs tremble as you have to lean more heavily on the desk, frantically attempting to close your legs. “How do you even know if I have an appetite for females?” You pant, trying desperately to force a growl into your voice, to no avail.

“I don’t,” she laughs, the soft breath brushing over your inner thighs with how close she is, “this is torture, remember?” Her tongue sweeps over your entrance and your arms almost give out then and there. You revel in the way the hot, wet muscle drags over you, how she laps so intently. “Don’t you think it’s unbecoming of a High Lady to lower herself like this?” You manage to pant through the mind clouding pleasure that’s thrumming through your body, lighting your sensing with flame.

She nips at your clit and a moan escapes you. Your palm smacks across your mouth the second after but it’s too late. “You seem to certainly be enjoying how I’m lowering myself.” Her tongue pushes against your entrance and you dig your nails into the desk desperately.

“You want to come, little traitor?” She drawls, lapping up your cunt, pressing against the swell of your now puffy clit. “Come on,” she croons, “as your High Lady, you belong to me. Every part of you. Every breath, every touch, every orgasm. It’s mine.”

“I believe you’re my High Lady, Feyre Darling.”

You freeze. Even the female behind you stops. Then she’s rising from her kneeling position, arms lacing around your waist possessively, one hand snaking to your jaw, forcing you to watch as the High Lord prowls into the room.

“Which means all of that,” he emphasises as his cold, violet eyes burn into you, “is also mine.” Behind you, you can feel the exact moment her body looses its tension, muscles melting as his words slither over her, becoming soft and pliable.

Pure malevolence drips from him as he stalks forward, power thrumming in the air of your bedchambers, pushing into every nook and corner. “Surely you remember how to share,” he purrs, eyes on his mate. Despite not being able to see her, you’re sure her lips have split into a wicked grin. “Just warming our girl up,” she drawls, hand snaking again beneath your skirts; between your thighs.

Utter mortification paralyses your body as her fingers slip through your wetness, pulling away as she shows the High Lord how you’ve slicked her fingers. He cocks his head, a gleam in those violent eyes, a hellish smirk curving the edges of his mouth. He moves forward, lethally quiet, until he’s just before the table. Then he’s raising his High Lady’s fingers to his mouth, lapping at the slick coating them. Your mouth drops open at the act, petrified to your spot as his eyes flick to your own, a sinful grin glittering over his mouth.

His hand grips your jaw, tugging you against the table as his nails bite into your cheeks, “want to know how you taste, little lynx?” You don’t have time to protest as he lowers his mouth to yours, tongue licking and lapping over and into you as his teeth nip at your lower lip, dragging in it. He shoves his way inside, dominating in a way only possible for those born into terrifying power, and you can taste the distinctive flavour of arousal coating his tongue. “Like that?” He drawls, noting the hot flush on your cheeks.

You’re hardly able to speak as Feyre’s mouth opens over your neck, making you gasp, ravishing the sensitive skin. The High Lord chuckles, grip tightening to bruising as silver lines your eyes from his pain and her pleasure. “I think this punishment is rather fitting, wouldn’t you agree?” He drawls, continuing as if his High Lady’s hand isn’t snaking between your thighs again.

When her fingers land on your clit, you squeeze your eyes shut, desperate to not yield to either of them. The air shifts in the room, becoming heavier; denser. He’s not pleased with your refusal to answer.

The High Lord’s hand leaves your jaw, dropping to attend to himself as he unties the constrictions of his fine clothing. Behind you, Feyre’s dragging down your spine, slowly returning to her original placement. She pushes the fabric of your underwear to the side and you squeak. At the sound, their arousal becomes more prominent to you, invading your senses entirely as she presses her mouth to your inner thigh; teasing.

“Why are you doing this?” You pant, hating how breathless you sounds as you look up at the High Lord from beneath a narrowed brow. He grins maliciously, “because it’s our right. We rule over you. You are part of our property and have no say over what we do to you,” he drawls, one hand fisting in your hair, “isn’t that right, Feyre darling?” At his address, Feyre laughs, finally pressing her mouth over your pussy, enveloping you in the hot, wetness of her mouth.

The High Lord’s brutal touch strengthens as he feels you slipping away, “seems you’re enjoying my lady’s mouth,” he croons, applying a sudden pressure to lower you to the table, bringing you to level with his hips, “shall we see if you can keep up with her?”

You watch in horror - and with almost painful arousal - as he forces your mouth to his cock, pressing the tip just beneath the curve of your lips. “You can choose to do this of your own volition, or you can refuse, and have one of us slip into your mind to open up that pretty mouth,” he grins as a milky sheen wets your lower lip, the slit in his head beading with precum. “So which will it be? Because neither of us are stopping until you learn how to submit.”

Anger and arousal twine together sinfully in your lower belly, both simmering until you can’t differentiate between the two. Your upper lips curls into a snarl, “fuck. You,” you spit. Feyre nips at your clit, a small warning from her end that makes you wince. The High Lord’s grin widens and you can feel the blood drain from your face as dark, glittering talons scratch at your mind, piercing through until he has a firm leash on you.

You’re practically kicked out of your body, shoved to the forefront of your mind so you can only watch and feel as your mouth open, tongue resting on your lower lip as you drag from root to tip. Seconds later you feel a second presence filling your mind, pressing into every space available as the two occupy you.

You deliver small laps to the slit in his head, a groan coming from above you as he forces you through the movements of what he likes. Your nails dig into the table at the insane pressure filling your mind, as thought your skull will split open. Their presences retreat, leaving you grasping at the space of your own mind, returning to your body. ‘The next time you disobey we won’t be so kind.’ The High lord’s voice echoes through you, threat dripping from his words as he jerks at your hair, commanding you to meet his gaze. ‘Now,’ he drawls, grin growing wider, ‘open that mouth for me.’

Shame swarms your body, crawling beneath your skin as violet eyes watch as you part your lips, just as he asked. ‘That’s it,’ he goads, ‘keep behaving and this’ll be over in no time at all.’ The deceptive lilt to his voice tells you he’s lying through his teeth, putting that silver-tipped tongue to work.

‘Let me see, Rhys.’ The High Lady’s voice echoes through your mind, her tongue continuing to lap at your entrance. Her mouth drops down to your clit, oscillating nimbly over and over as the pleasure builds. Rhys’s hand tightens in your hair as he guides his cock into the hot, wetness of your mouth, groaning as he feels your tongue sliding with velvety smoothness beneath him.

An image flashes through your mind - courtesy of the High Lord. It’s from his point of view, with your mouth opened, lips poised to wrap over his cock, tongue positioned to cover your teeth as he pushes in. Your eyes are alight with fire, burning with flame as you hold his dominating gaze. Feyre moans loudly at the image, your own cheeks flushing more with the obscenity.

‘Keep working that pretty mouth of yours, little lynx,’ he calls, smirking wickedly as he pushes you further down, making your eyes squeeze shut as they burn. ‘Working so obediently,’ the High Lady drawls into your mind, her words laced with cruel mockery, ‘working so hard to please her High Lord.’

At her words, the sheer degradation, you feel a coil tighten, heat building in your belly. She laughs as she surely feels it, knows what’s happening to your body as a result of their cruel game. You feel yourself reaching your peak, the way Feyre’s swirling her tongue over your clit has you seeing stars. Yet just as you reach that mind fogging high, sharp black talons squeeze your conscious, suspending you in a state of almost.

A whine escapes your throat, crying onto his cock as the pleasure is taken away from you. The encompassing warmth of Feyre’s mouth leaves you as your eyes flick up to meet the cold violet of the High Lord’s. They’re flecked with cruelty yet heat is clearly roiling in their depths. A need for suffering.

‘Beg for it,’ the High Lord commands, and you really consider it. It’s so good. The way her tongue had been working you mercilessly; the way the High Lord had been using your mouth, releasing those delightful pleasures moans. ‘All you have to do is beg, and you can have it,’ he goads, pulling you from his cock. You flush with heat as the threads of saliva trailing from your mouth to him.

“I think she needs more, Rhys,” Feyre purrs, mouth gliding up the ridge of your spine to nestle at the junction of your shoulder and neck, nosing at the sensitive skin, noting the heavy arousal. “I think we should make her go again.” Her words are coated with cruel passion, her hand dipping down to cup your breasts, making you shrink back into her.

She bites at your ear, “don’t pretend you don’t like it, little traitor. You’re the one on the verge of begging for my mouth.” A soft moan claws its way from your throat as her thumbs graze roughly over your nipples. She looks up at her mate, “I think that’s a yes, don’t you?”

Your eyes widen marginally, turning to look at her as you try to shake your head but her hands are already grasping your hips, pulling you up against her and spinning you around, pinning you against the table. Then her mouth’s on yours, her hands snaking beneath your thighs as she shoves you up onto the table, settling herself between your spread legs as she devours you. Her hands slope down your spine and settle on the swell of your ass while your nails dig into the table in shock at the flavour of yourself on her tongue. So overwhelming.

Behind you, the High Lord groans at the sight. ‘Enjoying, High Lord?’ Feyre drawls, that taunting lilt returning to her voice. ‘It’s not kind to keep her all to yourself, darling.’ Then large, rough hands are gripping your shoulders, pulling you away from her mouth and slamming your back down onto the table, the High Lord grinning down at you as he shoots you an image.

It’s of you, as your are: lips swollen and puffy, glossy with saliva and cum while silver lines your eyes, hazy arousal dancing in their depths while your hair’s haphazardly strewn about. You look completely done for already.

A flush glows over your cheeks as you move to wipe your lips but shadows restrain you. While they’re at it, the loop beneath your thighs, pulling them up so your spread out perfectly for Feyre to daintily tap your clit, repeatedly. This time you do whine, attempting to close your legs at the sensitivity, your back arching.

She leans over you, fingers still perched atop the sensitive bud, “but you were so desperate for my touch moments ago.” She cocks her head, “what happened? Did you get cold feet?” Her thumb presses down on your clog and you shriek, legs attempting to curl beneath her to push away but you can’t. “Stop,” you cry, her thumb oscillating sharply at the sound.

The High Lady pulls away and you watch warily as they move.

Your stomach drops when the switch places.

The High Lord’s hands land roughly on your inner thighs, spreading you further apart, his cock gliding through your messy wetness, bumping your puffy clit. A moan crawls from your throat. Then Feyre’s crawling onto the table, swinging a leg over you as you’re met with her glossy heat, slick coating her thighs as she settles on top of you, just out of reach of your mouth. “Remember, this can end any time you want. All you have to do is plead,” she purrs from above you before she’s spreading her thighs wider, settling down on your face, wetness coating you instantly. She moans loudly, unabashedly, at the feeling, already winding her hips gently.

Between your legs you feel the High Lord shift, his thumb coming to brush over your clit as his tip presses against your entrance, one hand bracing your hip as he pushes in. Your back curves as he stretches you full, delicious, solid warmth pushing at you from within. A moan flies from your mouth and your can’t resist as one of them buries into your mind, forcing your tongue to start moving.

At some point, they leave, but you’re moving on your own, hands latching over the sweep of Feyre’s hips, lapping at the wetness between her thighs, desperate to have her coating your tongue. She moans, hips bucking as they wind over your mouth. Rhys’ thumb speeds up to a pleasurable pace and already that euphoria is building, returning to its original strength as he begins pounding into you.

Moans and groans are falling from your mouths, filling your bed chambers as they use you as they please.

Again, you hit your peak, and again, glittering talons squeeze at your mind, suspending you while they continue their ministrations. Your nails dig into Feyre’s hips but she only moans, grinding against your face more, dying for your tongue to unravel her as she practically fucks herself on you.

The High Lord uses both his hands to bite into your hips, pounding into you while slamming your hips back to meet his, throwing you effortlessly into overstimulation without giving you the overwhelming pleasure to ride it out. It’s just too much.

Your back arches, toes curl, your body automatically bracing to be thrown over the edge yet it never comes. They’re keeping you right on the edge, an ounce of pleasure more and you’d be free falling but you’re kept in your place: beneath them.

Tears spill down your cheeks when you feel Feyre’s finger glide between your thighs, playing with your clit. It’s so much but you can’t give into them. No matter what hel they put you through. No matter how much you enjoy it.

You yelp when Feyre pulls her hand away, tapping your clit harshly, your whole body jerking at the sensitivity. ‘Stop, please,’ you beg across that channel but she continues. ‘Beg for your pleasure. Beg for us to give it to you. It’s ours to decide what to do with,’ Feyre growls into your mind, fingers soothing over the stinging skin.

‘You’re being soft on her,’ a voice snarls, soaked in sin as you feel her hand being pulled away, enough for a moment of relief. ‘Let me.’ His hand smacks down between your legs and you scream, muscles tearing at the darkness binding your legs as pain sings through your body.

He doesn’t stop after just one, he keep going, barely giving you a few seconds to recover before his hand is smacking back down, each one harder and more painful than the last. ‘Fucking beg for me to stop. Try it.’ He taunts, your nails slicing into his mate as she moans louder.

‘Please, stop.’

‘You can better than that.’ He growls.

‘I can’t!’ You cry, ‘please! Please just stop! I can’t do this!’ The stinging stops, and you nearly cry again with relief as Feyre shifts above you.

Rhys sends an image down the line: Feyre sat atop your mouth, his cock pounding into you, his High Lady leaning over as saliva drops from her mouth to perch atop your clit, her fingers rubbing soothingly over your tender sex. ‘Come on, pretty liar,’ she goads, sweetly; menacingly, ‘beg your High Lord and Lady for pleasure.’ You manage to hold back, using the entirety of your will power - what’s left of it - to refuse.

Across the bond, you watch as she grins, ‘unless you want me to let Rhys have his way with you?’ She pulls away, and you feel it as he raises his hand, preparing to smack down.

‘Please!’ You cry out, halting his movements. ‘Please, I’m begging, please don’t. Please give it to me!’ Tears roll down your cheeks as Feyre moans above you, riding your tongue as her high approaches. The High Lord laughs darkly, hands returning to your hips to slam you back against him.

‘Uh-huh? You want us to give you some pleasure? You’re sorry for even thinking about disobeying us?’ The words are painted with malevolence, lethal threat lying beneath them. ‘I’m sorry,’ you plead, ‘I’ll never think like that again. Just please let me go.’

The talons that had been holding you pull free, pleasure erupting across your skin, flooding your senses as your nerves are set alight, practically glowing with euphoria. You feel Feyre’s heat fluttering above you as she comes on your tongue, releasing herself onto you. The High Lord continues pounding into you, seemingly harder, chasing that high until he’s spilling inside of you, hot cum filling you to the brim as your back arches, nipples peaking.

Your mind takes a while to clear, muscles spasming with the force of your pleasure, after so long of being suspended on that edge.

The High Lady’s fingers have returned to your clit, rubbing soothingly as she raises her hips from you. Your tongue laps over your mouth, tasting her release, revelling in her flavour. ‘Look at you,’ she taunts, peering between her legs, ‘so good. So fucked out.’

Her gaze lifts to her mates, ‘do you really think she meant that?’ The line in clear, a hellish grin dancing over the High Lord’s mouth as his eyes flick down to you, hands tightening on your thigh.

‘I think we should make sure,’ he drawls and you feel as he hardens against your already sensitive walls.

‘Make sure she knows who she serves.’

[trashogram]

HCYverse: Husk

***

The two winged goat butler-things muzzle open the double doors and reveal a sprawling room of contrasting colors. The walls are pastel pink and the windows are framed in candy-apple red, but the ceiling draws the eye with its sky blue and matching images of puffy white clouds.

It’s been so long since he’s seen clouds. Fluffy, white, easygoing… the sight makes Husk’s mouth hang open somewhat as he gets lost in how they roll along the chandelier above.

A gasp, tinny and small yet loud enough in the vastness of this oversized bedroom, barely gives the old cat enough time to collect himself. He sees a blur of red and yellow bounding towards him.

“Keke?!?” The little girl is jumping up and down at his feet, and Husk stares wide-eyed.

(He does not back away a few steps out of surprise, that’s for sure).

The girl’s red eyes are so big. They look too large even as they stare up at him from a head too big for her tiny body. “How’d you get so big?!”

Husk cringes at the feeling of her little hands reaching for him, tiny claws gripping at his suspenders and trying to climb up past the waist to reach his fur. It’s almost instinctive to pick her up and keep her from touching his belly.

This can only be the Princess of Hell. Oh lord, does she ever look like her daddy.

‘Bout as short as the King too.’ Husk wagered internally.

“Where’d you get two eyes from?” She continues. Her hands come up to touch his eyeballs and Husk instantly clasps them in one of his much larger paws.

“These are mine, kid.” He says hastily. “Not for sale.”

“Oh!” The Princess chirps in surprise, likely at hearing the very deep voice coming from the demon who was decidedly not KeKe.

Radio Chuckle-Fuck laughs in that insipid way of his in the doorway, getting his jollies out of Husk’s misfortune no matter how slight.

“This is Husker, my sweet. He’s going to be assisting me as one of your caretakers for the evening!” Alastor embellished with a tap of his radio staff against the floor. The little girl pulls back just enough to look Husk in the face, smiling brightly.

“Hi Husker!” She cheers. “I’m Charlotte. But I like to be called Charlie!”

“Heya kid.” Husk felt awkward, shifting the child up as she starts to slide down from his grip. “Just call me Husk, then.”

Her toothsome grin shouldn’t be adorable, but somehow Charlie manages it. Maybe it’s the bubbliness that makes her so cute. Husk’s fur stands on end from head to toe as Alastor was suddenly right beside them, peering at them as if they were some kind of zoo exhibit.

“My, my. What a charming picture you two make.” The Radio Demon says.

That telltale tone of voice, the kind that speaks of speculating and calculating and plotting, makes Husk clutch little Charlie tighter.

[wellthebardsdead]

*some emerald grove devil au with a spicy mama??*

———

Falûne: *gliding along just above the group, lazily doing loops and twirling in the updraft beside the risen road* Those gnolls must’ve been the ones that attacked the Tieflings the day they came to the grove, they tore right through those people- hm? *looks ahead seeing blood and charred earth leading towards the river*

Gale: At least we found Lihalas lute. I’m sure Alfira will be happy to see it safe, at least she can hold the memory of her teacher within the music she plays.

Astarion: that or remind her of her gruesome slaughter- where’d our friend go?

Wyll: *looks up to see Falûne’s tail disappear over the trees* … *runs off after him and freezes in shock seeing him approaching Karlach* LÛ GET BACK!

Falûne: *looks back at him* She’s hurt! *steps forward* hey it’s alright, I’m a friend, are you okay? *backs up as the tiefling stands tall and flames billow off of her*

Karlach: Me? *grins* never better! *eyes up his wings and devil like characteristics* A shame for you then devil! *readies her axe*

Wyll: DONT YOU DARE LAY A HAND ON HIM FIEND!! *grabs Falûne and yanks him back to safety*

Karlach: well I’ll be damned, the blade of frontiers cavorting with devils.

Wyll: He’s a devil only by blood, but his heart is pure. Unlike you. *draws his blade* Your end is- ARGHHH!

Karlach: *recoils as her tadpole connects to his and Lûnes, her eyes seeing through the blue devils and finding only kindness and love, nature all around him and the blessing of a unicorn* wh-what was that?!

Falûne: *seeing the hells up close for the first time through her eyes. The horror, the suffering, the bloodshed and the roaring heat of hellfire… and feeling an odd sense of comfort from all of it* I- *focuses harder and sees a faceless figure, then karlach herself being dragged through to the hell’s themselves, sold into eternal servitude against her will* it was, the tadpole- you… You’re not a devil… you’re a tiefling! You were sold to Zariel!

Karlach: Well fuck me, you, you’re really a kind devil then… there’s a first for everything it seems.

Wyll: No! You can’t believe a word she says she’s lying to you!

Falûne: I know a lie when I hear it, Wyll… you should know how hard it is to lie to a devil… she’s telling the truth.

Wyll: No! She served Zariel! She-

Falûne: Against her will, *walks in between them and gently places his hand on his blade, lowering it* listen to reason now… please…

Wyll: Shit… Shit!! *sighs* you’re right… I’ve been mislead then… you really are no devil.

Karlach: whew… thank the gods, I was worried I’d have to take your head off.

Wyll: hm, you would have died in the attempt.

Falûne: someone set you on Karlachs tail, and I’d like to know who.

Karlach: aye, me as well, go on then wyll. You’re among friends.

Wyll: in a few days time you’ll find out, and no doubt I will pay my penance then.

Falûne: penance?… should I be worried?

Wyll: you’re not in any danger. From what I’ve witnessed, you’re a far more powerful devil than her anyway.

Karlach: another devil? How many have you been dealing with??

Falûne: well there’s me, my uncle and now this mysterious third but- *recoils a little as the flames suddenly grow hotter and Karlach grones holding her chest* Sh-shit you’re still hurt! Let me-

Karlach: no no, that’s all healed- ughhh my engines what’s aching.

Falûne: engine?…

Karlach: my engine. *smacks her chest* zariel stole my heart and replaced it with this contraption… now she’s sent her yappy little attack dogs after me to get it back it seems. So called paladins of tyr, they cornered me outside the tollhouse.

Falûne: hm, let’s send them back to her with a warning then.

Karlach: Fuck yes!

*30 minutes later*

Falûne: *holding Anders by his throat* please work- Karlach, come here.

Karlach: *engine boiling over with rage as she stalks closer, axe ready to kill* Tell Zariel I said h- *blinks as Falûne’s hand reaches into her chest, his skin feeling cool like ice, claws gently smoothing over the blistering infernal metal as he grasps hold of it* huh?? What are you?

Falûne: Sending the warning. *lets go of Anders throat and plunges his other fist into his rib cage, grabbing hold of his heart and with a small spark of fiendish magic, switching it with the engine* EVERYONE BACK UP! *grabs karlach and pushes her back as Anders suddenly begins to blister and boil from the inside out, clawing at his skin and screaming in agony as the engine cooks him alive before exploding all across the room in a smouldering pile of entrails*

Karlach: *staring at it in shock, the engine nestled amongst it* you- *gasps as the engine and pile of flesh crumbles into ash, no doubt respawning in hell back at zariels feet where the deal was made* you just?… *feels her chest, a heartbeat soft and gentle thrumming away* I have, a heart again?…

Falûne: you do… h-heh I can’t believe I actually did it! I-

Karlach: *pulls him into a hug and holds him tight* th-thank you. Thank you so much I- *sniffles as she starts to cry* I’m going to live!

Falûne: yeah… *smiles and hugs her back* …You really need a bath you stink of hellfire.

*that evening*

Mizora: Karlach meets the criteria by having no heart.

Falûne: Karlach has a heart though, look.

Mizora: what no she- *shuts up seeing no vents left on her skin, no flaming glow, no flames, nothing* what?…

“Which means your contract with Wyll is now Null and Void and my contract will now take its place.”

Mizora: *face dropping in a moment of panic as she spins around to see Raphael sauntering over* A-Ah, l-lord Raphael, I had no clue you were involved with my little pet, surely we can resolve this amicably.

Raphael: we might, if my nephew wishes so. *looks over at lûne*

Falûne: *shakes his head*

Raphael: *nods and snaps his fingers suddenly binding Mizora in infernal chains* Karlach, you may have the honours.

Karlach: *grabs her axe* Fuck yes!! *runs at Mizora*

Raphael: *summons wylls new contract* just sign and you’ll have everything you need from me.

Wyll: the only requirement is keeping lûne safe?

Raphael: believe it or not I do actually care about my nephews wellbeing. The contract is just a security to be certain he’s in safe hands.

Wyll: huh, what happens if I fail?

Raphael: do you want to find out?

Wyll: nope. *signs it quickly and jumps as a rapier of infernal metal appears in his belt*

Raphael: wonderful. Now then- *suddenly plucks out wylls eye and seemingly crushes it in his palm before reshaping it with runes to communicate with him directly* I’ll be keeping an eye on things through you now. Do not disappoint me Mr Ravenguard. *tosses it at his face making it land perfectly back in his eye socket*

Wyll: ah-

[thenewestxmen]

Wolverine Fiction

In episode 3 of X-men 97’, the Goblin Queen creates different illusions that each X-men sees, yet no one knows what Logan saw, so I thought I’d make a fic about it.

“Hit the showers, I’m going to go see about a red head… well, one of em.” I say, leaving morph to clean up. Apparently we have a Jean clone, perhaps I’ve just doubled my chances of stealing a kiss from Jean/“Jean.” As I start down the hallway to the real Jeans room, the hallway seems to lose light, the walls turning almost… stringy, like vines. SNKT, my claws unsheathe as I continue down the hall, a drop of blood from my fists trickle down the blade. I blink, and there’s a woman at the end of the hall, her dull gray-blue hair in braids across her olive skin. It’s Kayla, but I haven’t seen her in years, “Silverfox? The hell you doin’ here?” I say in a firm voice. But as I blink again, it’s Sabertooth. “The fuck… where’d she go?!” I start to yell. The walls have turned to red and brown vines. Morph must be messing with me, “morph, ok, ok very funny. Now cut that out.” I say. Not funny. I blink again, it’s Jean, the real one in her hospital gown, “everyone you care about dies.” She says, although her voice is distorted, which is not a gift morph has, to distort their voice. This is getting a little too weird for my liking. “Jean? Where’d Sabertooth go…” I ask, ignoring the last comment. 

“Everyone you love dies.”

“What?”

“Everyone you have ever loved love will die.”

“Jean… Kayla, Victor, whoever you are, you better shut the fuck up.” I say, I’m starting to get pissed.

“Jean gray will die” -I blink and Jean turns to Victor- “Victor Creed will die.” -I blink and it goes from Sabertooth to Silverfox- “Kayla Silverfox will die.” The voices continue to grow more and more distorted and frankly the faces turn more slim, with sharp cheek bones and dark circles around their eyes. What the hell is going on?! 

I blink, it’s Kayla, but the figure is a step closer to me, my mind drifts and I look at the vines, when I look back it’s Victor, another step closer. I glue my eyes to the figure to see if it’s a switch. ‘Victor’s’ head twists making a snap, and his mouth opens wide as jeans face emerges. Saliva and slime are oozing down her brow. I’m not one to get scared, but that… it was terrifying.

“Who… what are you?” I ask, trying to sound deep and gruff.

“I’m… you.” ‘Jean’ says, her neck snaps and curls around as my own face emerges from her mouth. ‘I’ step closer, I back up, the figure that looks just like me getting closer and closer. I look down at my claws and back up. The figure is inches from my face. ‘My’ breath smells of blood. I grunt and shove the claw into the figure. I step back as the cloned figure screams in my own voice with a distorted veil. At I stare at the wound, it heals… just like me… the cloned figure of me grins with a terrifying smirk.

“Everyone you have ever loved… will die.” The figure says in a distorted voice. My hands are almost to the point of shaking in fear. The distorted voice starts to ring in my head, turning into a wave of the voice yelling over and over. The figure that looks just like me just stares with blackening eyes and a demon like smirk. The voice is almost overwhelming until I hear Scott and Jubilees voice. I back up slowly into the next hallway, looking at the others with relief, but when I look back at the red and brown vine filled hall, the many faced figure is gone…

“What the heck is going on…?” I say, trying to hide the fear in my voice.