#yes one of them is body horror. i just couldn't resist

[outpost-31]

The imminent spiderverse fixation is coming watch out

[not-magdi]

-shower / pablo gavi

Warnings: smut 18+

Words: 1.1k

Reading Time: 4min 24 sec

A/N

I got this as a request and I haven't written a smut in quite a minute so I hope you enjoy it! Ps. I didn't proofread it so there might be some mistakes.

Love y'all Magdi <3

The absence of Pablo stumbling towards you and falling into your arms when you come home usually confused you as you came home from university that day. 

Letting your bag lie in the hallway, you start to search for your missing boyfriend, who should be at home, at least somewhere. 

After not finding him in the living room and the kitchen, you decide to start looking for him upstairs. Just as you were about to take the first step upstairs, you heard the faint noises of the shower running. Smiling to yourself, you sneak up the stairs, wanting to give Pablo a bit of a scare. 

Sneakingly opening the door to his ensuite bathroom, where you were met with Pablo's naked and defined back. Halting your movements, you take a moment to admire your naked boyfriend. 

Slowly, you felt a heat building up between your legs, encouraging you to press them together tightly. You quickly change your plan and start to carefully peel your clothes off your body. After the last piece of clothing falls off your body, you carefully step into the shower, letting the warm water fall on your body. 

You start to place soft kisses on Pablo's shoulders, which has him flinching away and quickly turning around to face you. 

"Shit Amor, you scared me!" 

"Sorry baby, I just couldn't resist." 

His face of horror turned into a face of lust quickly as he started to let his eyes wander over your naked body. 

"Well I don't mind it one bit." 

"Sure you don't." You answer him with a soft giggle. 

Pablo then reaches out to take your face into his hands, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. The two of you continued to kiss until you broke it as you felt Pablo's hands starting to roam over the smooth curves of your body. 

"P-Pablo", you let out a soft gasp. 

"Yes Amor"

"Touch me, please." 

At that, Pablo wastes not a second and cups your cunt with his palm, earning himself a moan from you. Wanting to hear that sound again, Pablo inserts a finger, which has your knees nearly giving out. You find support in Pablo as you wrap your arms around his shoulders to not fall over. 

You let out a shuddering breath, completely losing yourself in the pleasure that was consuming your whole body. But the heat between your legs only grew more. You knew you needed more. You needed him.

Pablo knew what you wanted. He felt how your walls fluttered and clenched around his fingers, but he wanted you to say it, knowing how shy you can get in situations like these.

"Pablo, I need you." You whimpered into his ear.  

"Oh but baby, you already have me." His mocking tone had your cheeks burning bright red.

"Y-you know what I mean." Swallowing, you try to concentrate, but his fingers that were still working their magic made it nearly impossible. 

"Do I?" You could hear the smirk in his voice as he continued to mock you. 

"Oh for fuck's sake Pablo, fuck me already!" You say growing incredibly frustrated. 

Smirking Pablo removes his fingers from your cunt, bringing them to his mouth to suck the juices off of them. You let out a slight whimper at the sight of his eyes rolling back while tasting you. 

Pablo then grabs your hips tightly, turning you around so you face the cold, tiled wall of his shower, your nipples instantly getting hard at the coldness of the wall. 

You feel how Pablo presses his body behind yours, his head beside yours, whispering dirty things into your ear. 

"Gonna make you feel so good baby, can't wait to get inside you, to feel you sqeezing me oh so tight." 

You felt your cunt dripping at his words, your hole clenching around thin air. 

Feeling proud about how he can make your body react, he interlocks one hand with yours, holding it against the shower wall. With the other one, he grips his painfully hard cock, guiding it to your entrance. 

Laying his head on your shoulder, he sinks himself into you, both of you letting out sinful sounds at the feeling of being connected. Gripping your waist with his now free hand, he starts to grind himself into you, giving you some time to adjust before starting to thrust at a desperate pace. 

"A-Ah Pablo, fuck so good", you barely manage to get out as Pablo starts to speed up. 

Pablo stops leaving wet kisses all over your shoulders, leaning next to your ear, "Yeah does that feel good? Do I make you feel good?" 

You arch your back at his words, which results in Pablo reaching your G-spot at every single thrust, making you see stars. 

"Ah, yes Pablo you make me feel so good, so fucking good." 

Happy with your answer he grips your hips even tighter, slamming his hips into yours at a mercyless pace now. 

Letting out a sound with every thrust, you feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter, making you clench hard around Pablo's cock. 

Pablo feels how your walls squeeze him incredibly tight, making him come extremely close to his orgasm. Not wanting to cum before you he takes the hand that was previously holding yours down to your clit, rubbing it at a fast pace. 

With a loud moan, you come hard around Pablo, your juices covering his length completely. Quickly pulling out, Pablo massages his cock rapidly painting you back with his ropes of cum.

Turning around, you wrap your arms around him connecting your lips with his. 

The two of you stay in the shower for a bit, washing your bodies in the now cold water of the shower. Pablo then picks you up, carries you outside to the bedroom throws you on the bed before grabbing a towel to dry you off. 

After you were both dried up, Pablo dressed you in one of his shirts and boxers, before he ran downstairs again to get you a glass of water and a snack.  

Returning back to the bedroom, he cuddles himself up next to you on the bed and lays you on top of him before feeding you some bits of the granola bar he got for you. 

"You ok? I was quite rough now wasn't I?" Pablo asks you in a soft voice. 

"I'm perfect, you were perfect. I love you", you whisper into his ear, your eyes already closing. 

Squeezing you tight Pablo kisses your lips softly before closing his eyes himself, falling into a deep slumber. 

---------

Don't forget to leave a note if you enjoyed it, feedbakc is always welcome !! ❤️

[outofboundsarchives]

virgin charlie walker has me in a chokehold

OH MY GOD. This one completely got away from me and turned into just absolute filth. Thank you for the inspo Anon!

(As always my requests are open. I do both sexes, any gender, with any Rory Culkin characters)

/Fem reader/

•Charlie wouldn't say he was a virgin by choice. There was just a lack of desire to lose it. He didn't see the point in pursuing someone just for sex so he left it at that.

•Don't get him wrong, that didn't mean he doesn't want to. He was horny all the damn time. But he sort of got used to it, being pent up all day and then jerking off until he came 2-3 times that night.

•He never sought anyone out for their sex appeal. He didn't care what anyone really looked like in the porn he watched or looked at anyone with lust or need.

•Until you.

•It was one of those unpredictably hot autumn days. The ones where the mornings are so cold you can feel it in your bones, but the afternoons are sticky, and you want to peel your skin off.

•You knew it was going to get humid when you excitedly dug your favorite knit sweater out from your closet, but you couldn't resist. Halloween was so close, and you were ready for that fun, cozy feeling.

•But as the day crept on, you regretted your decision. By the time you made it to after school cinema club (one of the few classrooms without AC) you couldn't take it anymore and decided since school was over, there was no harm in you just wearing a tank top.

•You felt the instant relief of chills over your sweaty skin. You felt like you had been suffocating all day and could finally breathe. You let out a satisfied sigh through your nose and continued to listen to Robbie talk about finale girl syndrome or whatever he was on about.

•But Charlie felt anything but relief, his hands twitched as they gripped the edge of the teachers desk he leaned against. He crossed one leg in front of the other, his cock growing hard against his jeans as he stood in front of his peers. Your cleavage on full display as you rested your chest against the table.

•He couldn't focus, his mind overcome with images of your nipple rolling between his pointer finger and thumb. He imagined the sharp gasp you'd take before he pressed your soft tits together and slide his lubed cock between them.

•He thought about how hot your skin would feel, how your mouth would drop open as he came across your chest, smearing his dick against your breasts while beads of cum dripped down you.

•It didn't take long for him to become obsessed with you. Following you around, using every excuse to talk to you. Watching you get ready for bed.

•With your constant interaction, eventually, you two developed a friendship, and before you knew it, you fell hard for the outgoing nerd. Little by little, you tried making your attraction for him obvious, but he never reciprocated.

•One night, you decided to invite him over for a movie night. It was just before Halloween, and you were tired of dropping hints that he wasn't picking up.

•Charlie of course, said yes, jumping at the opportunity to watch his favorite horror movies. The fact that it was with the girl he couldn't stop fantasizing about made it all the better.

•You had seen Stab a million times, but you were still captivated by Charlie's excitement and little facts he'd spew.

•But you were starting to get restless. You weren't even at the halfway point before you decided to place your hand on his upper thigh. You could feel his body tense next to yours, but you kept going when he didn't push your hand away.

•As your palm brushed over his clothed groin, you feel his dick pulse, already painfully hard against your hand.

•"A-ahh fuck..." He whispered as his eyes closed and his head fell against the back of the couch. You watch as his palms open and squeeze shut, desperately trying to keep himself from thrusting up into your hand.

•"You're so hard, Charlie," you say in a mocking tone, teasing him as you continue to touch him. His hips squirm beneath your grasp, needy for more friction.

•"Yeah, yeah I...fuck I'm sorry," He groans before pulling his plush bottom lip between his teeth. You giggle at his apology, soaking in his reaction.

•"Would you like some help?" You ask with a smirk. Charlie is only able to look at you with a slightly confused look before you're leaning over his lap, pulling at his belt before opening the front of his jeans.

•You hear him take a deep breath as his cock pushes against his underwear, the tip turning the light gray fabric a darker hue. You pull back the waist band to reveal his leaking tip. Before he has time to even process what you're doing, your lips are wrapping around him.

•Charlie jolts with a choked breath. He didn't expect your mouth to feel so warm. His hands instantly pull your hair out of your face so he can watch as you sink down his shaft, taking him deeper and deeper.

•His hips lift off the couch slightly to meet the back of your throat before he mutters a quick "sorry" and tries to keep his body still.

•His chest falls quickly with each breath he takes, your cheeks hollowing out around him as your tongue pushes against the bottom of his cock. He looks down at you with fascination as he watches you move up and down.

•Charlie let's out a stuttered groan as he feels your tongue swirl around his head before you take him deeper into your throat again.

•"f-fuck!" He moans through clenched teeth. His free hand runs through his own hair, gripping at his scalp tightly. He wished he wasn't so sensitive, wished he had more experience, so that familiar knot in his stomach wasn't approaching as fast, but it was.

•His hips start to push into your mouth again, his tip hitting the back of your throat and then some. You slowed the bobbing of your neck as he pushed past your lips. He chases the rhythm you created and starts to thrust a bit quicker.

•Both of his hands slide through your hair as he holds your head in place as he fucks himself into your mouth.

•He tilts his head, watching as your lips slide up and down his cock, your tits almost spilling out of your shirt as they squish against his thigh. The sight drives him insane, his breath quickening as he feels his release.

•"Wait...wait hold on i...stop I don't wanna cum yet," He struggles as he tries to pull your head away but you don't budge. You take him deeper, your throat convulsing as you swallow around him and he's done for.

•His body rocks forward, his hands grapsing your head as he thrusts up into your mouth and spills down your throat. Your nails dig into his denim covered thighs as you take every last drop.

•You sit up again, wiping the droll from your lips and chin as you look at his flushed face.

•"Shit I'm sorry I, it all happened so fast," He huffs as he looks at you apologetically.

•"It's okay Charlie, most guys don't last that long, or even for more than one round," you try to reassure. Suddenly, his hands are on your shoulders, and he's pushing your back into the couch and crawling between your spreads legs.

•"I-I can go another round...i.. just, you gotta give me a minute," He says a little out of breath. You chuckle at his enthusiasm.

•His eyes wander down your body. He uses one hand to hold himself up while the other starts to grope your covered breast.

•"I-is this okay?" He asks quietly, as if being too direct will scare you away.

•You bite your lip and smile at his cautiousness. "You can do more than that if you want,"

•The second those words leave your mouth, Charlie hooks his finger into the front of your low collared shirt and pulls it down, taking the front of your bra with it until you spill out over the top. His hand immediately grabs your breast, squishing it in his hand as he leans down and takes the other into his mouth.

•He moans louder than you at the sensation. You're softer than he could have ever imagined, his tongue lapping at your perked nipple.

•You can already feel that he's hard again, his hips rocking his exposed cock against the rough fabric of your shorts.

•His fingers grab and squeeze your tits as his tongue rolls around your nipple. Your body arches up into his as the feeling shoots straight to your core.

•"I need you baby...want you to fuck me so bad," You moan in his ear. His movements come to a stop as he looks up at you, spit coating his pink lips.

•"i-ive never uh..."

•He's too embarrassed to say it. His body almost delates at the idea of you being turned off and calling it quits from his lack of experience. He seems genuinely confused when you shake your head and smile.

•"I didn't ask that Charlie, I said I want you to fuck me," You almost command as you reach down, pulling your shorts off of one leg. Charlie's eyes quickly drift down to your soaking panties before letting out a soft breath.

•He sits up until he's on his knees between your thighs. He pushes his hair back from his face as he watches you push the fabric down your thighs. His eyes are latched onto your dripping cunt as he reaches forward to help you take them off.

•"You can touch me Charlie, you don't have to be so scared,"

•His eyes drift up towards yours before going back down to the task in front of him. He scoots down the couch until he's almost on his stomach, his face between your knees.

•You feel Charlie's hands on the back of your thighs where they meet your ass before his thumbs slide against your slit, pulling your lips open. The sensation causes you to squirm so he does it again, his digits sliding against your labia, spreading you open and observing your most sensitive area before you feel his breath against your clit. You take in a shuddering breath before the tip of his tongue gently licks against you.

•Instant waves of pleasure wash over your body, and you let out a small yelp. Charlie looks back up at you before leaning forward and doing it again, this time applying more pressure. Your body sinks into the couch as your legs spread more.

•He takes this as a good sign and pushes his faces fully against you, his tongue lapping up and down your pussy. You hear him groan as his eyes flutter closed, the taste of you melting across his tongue.

•Charlie wasn't stupid. He had watched plenty of porn and knew what giving head was. He had just never experienced it. You didn't taste like strawberries or flowers like those shitty romance movies would say. You tasted like you, and that made him want more.

•Your hand quickly tangled in his hair, pulling his face up just a little higher as he swirled his tongue around you. He was eating you like a man starved, all those weeks of jerking off to the thought of you finally coming to fruition.

•He moved his hands from spreading you open to wrapping around your thighs and pulling you against his face. With this new leverage he pulled your hips onto his knees, your cunt angled toward his face before he dipped his tongue lower.

•"OH! Fuck," you whine as you bite your lip, not expecting this level of aggression.

•He just wanted to taste more of you but bumped his nose against your clit. You gasped before letting out a strained moan so he did it again, and again. His tongue burying itself inside you, fucking your entrance as he moved his face back and forth, his nose grinding against you.

•Your legs tensed, and you started to shake as praises and begs fell from your lips. You let out a loud whimper as he pulled his face away.

•His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. He ignored your cries as he pulled you more into his lap.

•Your knees were bent and pushed towards your chest as he drug his fingers up a down your slit.

•"Taste so fucking good baby, fuck" He groaned as your juices dripped from his chin. His eyes were half lidded as he looked at you, a thick blush spreading across his face and ears. He pushed his fingers against your entrance, sliding his two middle fingers in at once. You yelped in surprise and cried out his name.

•"Is that good baby?" He asked, concerned by your sudden reaction. Once you chuckled and nodded, he started to pump his fingers in and out.

•"Could have you fuck my face all day, wanna taste this all the fucking time," He rambled before pressing his tongue against you again.

•Your body was almost convusling at this point, his tongue mixing with the curve of his fingers quickly bringing you to orgasm.

•"Please Charlie, please I'm gonna cum!" You whimper and he keeps his pace steady as he brings you over the edge.

•H-holy shit I, I can feel it," He says mostly to himself as you cry out and clench around him. Your cum soaks his hand and starts to drip down your bent torso. Charlie removes his fingers before burying his face in you again.

•"ah! I-its too much!" You moan as you grab his hair but he doesn't relent. His tongue laps at you as he savors the taste of your cum. You can feel his hard cock pressing into your lower back

•Cum and saliva connect strands from your pussy to his face as he pulls back again. He hugs your hips with his arms as he looks down at you.

•"W-was that okay?" He asks a little nervously.

•"Never had head like that before..." You pant. You both breathe heavily for a moment as you catch your breath, but Charlie's dick is still pressing into you, and you chuckle. "Do you think you're up for another round yet?" You ask as you bite your lip again.

•He pushes his hair out of his face as he looks down at you. "It's okay, we don't have to if- I mean if you don't want to that's okay i"

•You wiggle your hips until his cock presses against your ass. "I wouldn't ask if I wasn't okay," You reassure.

•He takes a breath before his eyes fall to his lap. He grabs your legs a little tighter as he sits up, pushing his tip between your thighs and against your clit. You gasp at the sensation before he pulls back and rolls his hips forward again, savoring the feeling of the slick heat between your legs.

•"Oh god...fuck you're so warm...can I put it in? Please...please let me put it in. " He inhales through clenched teeth.

•"Charlie please.." You whine before he pulls back again. He presses the back of your thighs against his chest and puts your legs over his shoulder before slowly sinking into you. His mouth drops open, and he whimpers, the feeling of him stretching your walls almost too much to handle.

•"Fuck...so good feels so good..." He hisses as he pulls out and pushes forward again.

•He's not scream queen massive, but he's decently sized and thicker than most. Your thighs tremble as you feel him push deeper and deeper until he finally bottoms out. He lets out a low moan and stays still for a moment, savoring the feeling.

•You clench around him, your body adjusting to the stretch as his eyes slowly open as he looks down at you. His gaze is half lidded, and his lips are parted as he releases a shuddering breath.

•He pulls back, letting his head almost slip from your cunt before sinking back in again. You both moan at the feeling as he repeats his actions. His head rests against your calf before he kisses and bites your leg.

•"Charlie!" You inhale sharply. His hands spread your legs before he pushes his body down against yours, the new angle shifting him deeper. You cry out before wrapping your arms around his shoulders and fisting your hands in his hair.

•His hips slam against yours and your legs twitch. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his fluffy hair tickling your face, and he whimpers. The sound long and drawn out.

•His arms snake between your back and the cushion before holding you tight to his chest and starts to hammer into you.

•"Fuck!" You gasp as the wet sounds of skin hitting skin full your tiny living room.

•"it's okay, you're okay, baby...you feel so good, so good for me," He whines as he hugs you tighter.

•"Charlie...Charlie you can slow down," You try to breathe, but his grip feels suffocating.

•"Mine...you're all mine, no one else's." He rambles as his lips latch onto your neck. "So perfect, so soft," He groans as he thrusts.

•Charlie was getting lost in the feeling of you. His head was fuzzy like he wasn't all there.

•That day from cinema club plays in his mind. He was distracted that whole hour, wondering what it would feel like to take your breast in his mouth and hear you whimper as he bit down on your nipple. You got caught up talking to one of your friends and forgot your sweater on the desk. He told Robbie he would catch up with him later, that he needed to do a few things first.

•He bit his cuticles until they bled, until he couldn't hear the sounds of foot steps and fading chatter anymore. He fought with himself, told himself he was disgusting for what he was going to do, but he did it anyway. He walked over, grabbing the sweater and leaned against the desk again. He paused for a moment before bringing the fabric up to his face, inhaling deeply as his other hand made quick work of his belt. He grabbed his aching cock tightly as he started to stroke it.

•The pent up energy from having a raging hard on and the smell of your perfume and the image of your perfect tits pushed up on the desk had him spill his seed onto the soft fabric. The gratification was gone instantly after he realized the mess he had made. That night, he took your sweater home and washed it, making sure to take good care of it before it had a chance to stain. He would never forget that smell.

•That smell that engulfed every fiber of his being as he nuzzled against your neck and pounded into you mercilessly.

•You could feel his muscles shaking as he held his weight above you. His breathing started to become uneven and small whines fell from his lips. His behavior was almost animalistic.

•He shifted his weight to one arm as his hand slid between your sweating bodies, his thumb sliding between your folds and rubbing circles around your clit.

•"ah!" You yelp as your hands twist in his hair. You hear him whimper against you before his teeth sink into your shoulder causing you to cry out again.

•He would bite and suck on your shoulder before swirling his tongue around the wounded area and repeating the action over and over.

•The feeling became unbearable, and you pull his hair hard until he lifts his head. His mouth hung open as he moaned lewdly, his eyes screwed shut at the feeling.

•"You're close again...i-i can feel it," He whines before his tongue swipes across his bottom lip. "Please, please cum on me....wanna feel you cum,"

•He leans his head down, taking your nipple between his teeth and swirling his tongue over the nub. Every touch, every sensation was like a pull in your stomach.

•His thumb swipes over you a few more times before your muscles tighten, and you feel the snap.

•You clench around him as you cum, letting out strained moans as he continues to pound into you. You body goes slightly limp against the couch but he doesn't stop.

•"Charlie.." You huff as you try to take in a full breath.

•"I-i know, I know," He whines as he presses his face against your neck again. "So close baby, please,"

•His arms slip under your back again as he hugs you against him and slams into you. Your arms wrap around his neck, and your nails dig into his back, and suddenly he stops.

•His moan is almost like a sob, his legs trembling and cock twitching as heat explodes in your stomach. His body thrusts forward slightly as he pumps you full of cum, his grip almost crushing as he fills you up.

•You both lay there for a moment, panting and trying to gather yourselves before he slowly sits up. He grabs the base of his cock and watches as he slides out of you.

•As your walls try to clench around him, you feel his cum drip out of you. You watch as he stares at your used hole before he reaches forward swipes his finger up your slit and pushes his cum back into you.

•"S-stop its...it's too much," You groan as you try to close your legs. He pulls his hand away but keeps your legs spread open.

•"Sorry, You just look so good," He smiles as a thick blush creeps across his face again.

•His eyes never leave your body, completely taken with how red your pussy became from his abuse, the urge to kiss and lick your sensitive areas overtaking him.

•"Can we do it again?"

Aaahhhh sorry for any mistakes and for how long it took to post. As always requests are open for any Rory Culking characters!

[blood-grove]

unnatural bleeding

Masterlist

merfolk au!

part 1 -> part 2

parings: gaz x reader

chars: gaz, price , soap , ghost

tws: blood, injuries, violence, past abuse, language, slow burn, rude reader.

a/n: i hope this was alright 😭 not proofread fuck it we ball

Where were you?

You couldn't move,

Were you in holding again?.

You didn't attack anyone, At least no one you could remember.

You still felt bad for that other merfolk they shouldn't have gotten so close.

Your mouth dry as you licked your even dryer lips despite the strange humidity in the air your body felt numb your limbs slack as you tried to look around only to realized you were in darkness shifting as your body regained it's senses.

You eventually woke up your body enough your tail thrashing in its confined space till you realized.

You weren't even in water you were moist yeah damp at the very least, You could feel the rubbery texture starting to agitated old and new wounds. Newer wounds plastered in this weird cold material that you found out was resistant to the water helping your wounds stay closed.

You learned quick back then not to try and scrape it off ending up in the sick bay was near hellish those babying voices, all those hands on you, and those needles the tiny things frightening you after finding out that such a small dose of whatever they gave you could send you helplessly lethargic and eventually unconscious as they shipped you over to a new tank.

But this?

This was weird as the sounds of voices and whirring finally reached your torn ears.

"There starting to wake up c'mon!-"

"You sure the crane is gonna be able to handle all of well that?"

"Yes just fuckin' dump em'"

And then you were suddenly weightless as your vision flooded with light blinding you and not helping your coordination as you fell into the water.

You couldn't breath the hard shock of the temperature of the water and the brightness stunning you enough that you didn't even realized you were free from confinement the brightness of the sun still clearing up the black spots in your vision.

"Is it dead? It's not moving-"

"Fuck we need to go- C'mon!"

"But-"

You finally came to your senses enough has you stole a quick breath of air before diving back under blinking rapidly as you looked around this felt different.

The water lacked its smell of strong chemicals, and nearly vivid teal blue look.

Where the fuck where you?

-

Okay there was a big issue you'd been swimming for a while now.

And you hadn't run into any walls yet.

You found yourself flinching sometimes when you approached what you thought was the end of the tank but it kept going, You didn't think you were in a pool anymore.

You kept swimming resisting the urge to pick at your wounds you were confused beyond belief as you went around there was fish everywhere most avoiding you you would too as you swam around.

You've never seen fish at least not when they weren't floating around dead to the pool bottom.

Vibrant coral still flourishing.

This wasn't right.

A grumble in your throat as you surfaced for a moment blinking as you looked around quickly realizing there was no pool edge in sight.

No person in sight.

No chairs.

No bright lights.

No sounds other than the water it's self and bird up ahead.

Oh fuck.

Wait.

Oh fuck yes.

You dove back down the pervious shock and horror changed into releif.

You were fucking free, You sighed your body slightly relaxing as you swam looking around.

You didn't remember much of the ocean, Barely much memories as a child but the open vastness was familiar you swam around till something or more like someone caught your eye a smaller merfolk collecting seaweed.

You tilted your head should you approach them? Maybe just to see where the hell in the ocean you were.

Or maybe you could scare the shit out of some poor guy who just slashed you with his makeshift knife.

Okay maybe slowly stalking up to him like a predator wasn't the smartest idea, You knew larger merfolk hunted and regularly ate smaller or merfolk who were more prey-like than usual if that made any sense.

But stabbing you?

That felt personal, Now you were desperately chasing after this guy trying to apologize and beg him to stop swimming it was starting to piss you off.

From behind you could see him better or at lease see what his mer half was better.

Shark.

Oh.

Are you fucking kidding me?

You eventually catch up to him grabbing him not at all gently flipping him around as you exhaled grumbling you'd need to take a breath soon and all the biting and scratching he was now doing.

"Fucking stop- Look I'm not going to eat you will you just!-"

"Get the fuck off me you fuckin' asshole!-"

"Look please I just need-"

"Si!-"

And then you feel like you got hit by a boulder as the mer you had previously been shaking and trying for him to stop yelling was yanked from you.

It took you a second to realized you were being dragged down your teeth meeting your attacker flesh as you struggled with whoever this was they were heavier and larger than you which didn't help your predicament that you needed air and quick.

Scratches and bites exchanged as they pushed to drag you deeper now you could say with full intent they wanted to drown you, You finally bit down as hard as you could as you slammed your tail against there body finally getting them off as you swam to the surface catching a quick breath before diving down and finally seeing what you where up against.

A orca mer much larger than yourself barreling towards you.

You barely had time to react as you flipped slamming your tail fin into him head first before darting off as fast as you could taking quick gasps of air till you felt you were no longer in his sights.

You surfaced panting heavily the reality of your wounds set in and your adrenaline wore off finally making you realize how tired you were you kept on swimming trying to ignore your own blood dyeing the surrounding waters red.

The reality of it all made you realize there's no injections to save you this time, No bandages and creams to help keep your wounds clean.

You were helpless.

You didn't know why you didn't realize it early, Was it the taste of freedom that blinded you? You had no idea how to hunt, No idea how to properly fight, And no idea how to treat your own wounds.

You eventually forced your self to swim till you saw some semblance of land the weird horrible chemical smells that came from human settlements was familiar too you but you avoided it.

You doubted you'd be recaptured you were too old, Too ugly, Too beaten up to be a nice new attraction having lost your baby face and charm years ago.

You could barely keep yourself awake as you swam yourself to the near perk of rocks it felt too close to the docks but you need something to rest on it was cloudy enough to not risk a sunburn which was something you did not need today.

You just hoped a human wouldn't come along and gawk at you like they usually did sometimes even throw bits of food clearly not made for consumption like you were a stray dog.

You just need a few minutes to rest.

Maybe a hour.

[bromcommie]

WIP word search 2: electric boogaloo

Many thanks to @painted-doe who posted an excellent part 2 to this tag game (go check it out wink wink) and left an open tag with the keywords guard, break, true and left. I have to admit I feel like a dog chasing its own tag tail lol but the first one was so fun I just couldn't resist. Anyway!

Guard:

Groundhog Day except it's not Groundhog Day but instead amnesiac psychological horror. (Imagine this is indented—I’m editing on mobile, and Tumblr is misbehaving.)

They take him out of the dark and into a blue room. Empty, square, clear sightlines. Single exit, no windows. He knows this story, just like he knows the story of his dream: six guards, armed. Table, gun, a man on his knees like a test he's taking for the first time but knows he'll fail. Knobby bones at the top of his spine.

So why are the shadows wrong?

Because the man is him. Because the gun is a red herring.

They beat him until he stops making noise and then some more for good measure. He doesn’t remember what he did to deserve it, and he doesn’t ask. Doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe, doesn’t do much of anything, really, except maybe wait.

Asking questions. That's what you forget after sitting in it for too long, he remembers now. You forget there's questions to be asked in the first place. You forget there's something outside of the hole you're sitting in.

Sometimes doing nothing is worse.

He waits for the bullet. He keeps waiting for the goddamn bullet. He doesn’t know what he is, but he thinks it might be a stupid motherfucker. The bullet’s not coming.

When he asks for it, it’s in English.

They put him back under.

Break:

Rogers is still staring at him like he’ll go up in a puff of smoke if he looks away. His hair’s grown out from the last time they’ve come face to face, falling floppy across his forehead and curling a little where he’s still damp and flushed from his shower. It suits him better, he thinks fuzzily; makes him look less sharp around the edges. Less like a stone carveout and more like a breathing thing. He doesn’t understand why that makes the loss surge even more.  Желание, his mind insists again unprompted, and it rings out through him like another shot fired. He needs to break the standstill they’ve arrived at but he feels terribly cold all of a sudden, skin gone clammy with it. The searing pain in his abdomen has been replaced by a dull tingling, spreading rapidly like wildfire to the rest of his body, the plates in his arm whirring and recalibrating wildly under his jacket trying to interpret the signal, keep up with the pounding of his heart. He’s bleeding out, he thinks distantly. Operational integrity compromised. Yeah, no fucking shit.

True:

From another unfinished episode from orpheus, in which Steve goes down memory lane and he and Bucky hit the beach. (Kind of.)

From a young age Bucky and he were both, predictably, enchanted with the damn thing. They’d put their ear to the shell's opening in turns and name all the things they could hear: Waves. Wind. Crab. Fish. Fisherman almost catching it and cursing when it got away. Bagpipes. Bagpipes? Yes, bagpipes. Drums, too. Whales. There’s no whales in Ireland, stupid. What do you know, you’ve never been. Neither have you. I guess. Maybe we can go together. People splashing. Ice cream seller. Someone kicking a ball down the boardwalk. A lot of the time, these near-mythical beaches of Ireland ended up sounding a lot like Coney Island. None of it was true, of course. The actual sounds were the product of the air’s vibration inside the curve of the shell having nowhere to escape. The stories they made up around them were a product of an unfettered imagination and an unshakeable generational nostalgia for a place they would never know. The conch itself was a product of a trinket shop in Brighton Beach, New York, which was over 3000 miles away from Kenmare, Ireland, and it was long collecting dust on a shelf before Steve’s mother bought it on a whim one day in early 1918. It had cost a whopping three dollars, which was more than she had to give for a cheap trinket as a 22-year-old with a baby on the way and fresh off the boat to boot, but it had reminded her, somehow, of home: of the flat pale serpentine of sand she would go to that never had such exotic gems to offer, of the people she’d gone with, of the sound and touch of the water. Sarah was a sensible woman, utilitarian in her logic and uncompromising in her decision-making. Between her and her husband, Joseph had gotten the majority share of designated emigree sentimentality. But the seashell reminded her of him, too, of the space that separated them and the indeterminable time that would pass before he and the many men like him could come home. So in the end sensible, pragmatic little Sarah Rogers parted with her hard-earned three dollars, and the Atlantic conch from the wrong side of the Atlantic returned home with her, meticulously packed in newspaper and stuffed to the bottom of her purse like a treasure much greater than it was. Joe Rogers, of course, never did return. He and the many men like him were buried on the wrong side of the Atlantic because of a war that, like most wars, had nothing to do with them in particular. For all of her outspoken opinions, his mother never talked about it. Like the real provenance of the conch, like the thing hiding in the folds of the silence that hangs between him and Bucky now, it was another truth easier left unsaid. He never thought her a coward for it. He’s not sure he can extend himself the same courtesy.

Left:

More from the epistolary chapter:

Look, I guess what I’m trying to say is this: I wouldn’t mind. Going back home or what used to be home means little to me now—it’s not even all the differences. Name’s the same, and some of the streets still smell like mold and piss and trash and it can get loud and alive and busy as all hell. There’s the brick and the trees and the water and that constant feeling of catching something in the corner of your eye when you walk down the street. But the buildings they’re building now are all big and shiny and new, and the people building them are all big and shiny and new. The folks we knew are all dead or forgotten or forgetting, just like Oisín’s Fianna. There’s no real home left to go back to. That’s probably why I stayed away as long as I did after that first time—it made me feel even more like a ghost. I think it makes you feel like that too except it hurts you worse, somehow. I see it every time you talk about it, don’t think I don’t. Something about the way you get all hazy around the eyes, and then go quiet on me if I can’t remember a goddamn thing about whatever it is you’re talking about. Well there’s not a lot I can fix up about the remembering part, that much I’ve figured out by now, but I’d do a hell of a lot more than retell old stories like these if it got that bone-tired look off your face. So there it is I guess. You asked what I want to do and the real, honest to God answer is: I have no idea. But if you asked, I would. If you said tomorrow Come back to Brooklyn with me I’d let myself do it and I wouldn’t mind. If you said Let’s go to Brazil or Bengal or Bulgaria, let’s see the world, I’d go. The way we’re both built now we might as well be cursed with immortality like those folks in Tir na nÓg—but I’d let myself grow old somewhere out there and live quietly and maybe help some people if I could before I kicked the bucket, and I don’t think I’d mind that at all if I got to do it with you by my side. I know. I know you won't ask. You never do, not for a single thing you could keep for yourself. But it's a nice thought, sweetheart. It really is. Maybe I can keep it for you.

I’m gonna go the same way as my predecessor and make this an open tag, so if you’re reading this—congrats! You’re tagged! Your words are gentle, burn, breath, control, or you can take the ones I did, or both. Either way, feel free to tag me!

[stuffymcstuffsworld]

Eloped

It certainly wasn't every day when an intruder arrived. Especially not in the council room of the thirteen crowns. Yet you just walked in as if you owned the place.

Your body is yanked out of the way just in the nick of time, barely avoiding the onslaught of attacks aimed to kill. You're in his Sullivan's arms. Safe and sound.

"Sully-Chan!!! What are you doing? They're an intruder!!" Poro pointed an accusing finger at him. Mouth pulled back in a snarl.

"Intruder? No... I'm afraid you're mistaken." Sullivan sets you down and stands protectively in front of you. Successfully blocking any further attempts to harm you.

"What do you mean, Sully-Chan?" Levi asked curiously. "They have an open invitation to come over and play anytime from Del-Chan himself. To attack them while knowing that is defying the demons kings will."

The room turns cold. Everyone falls silent. The door opens, and low and behold. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

He scans the room. His gaze lands on you. You give a small wave. A Cheshire grin spreads on his face. "Darling! You came to steal me from mean old Sully-Chan, right?"

You couldn't help but laugh at his silly antics as he picked you up. Sullivan protests at his words. "DEL-CHAN!!!" Poro throws himself at the two of you, but the demon king side steps chuckling as he crashes into the wall.

"Exciting bunch, aren't they?" Poro glares angrily at you. "What gives you the right to hog my Del-Chan!!!" You blinked curiously at the enraged musician.

"Your Del-Chan?" "Yes, my Del-Chan!" "Mmm, that's rather interesting." You turn to look at the cackling king. "I wasn't aware that you were so close to your followers."

Automatically, he stops laughing and looks down at you. "Darling?" You casually leap out of his arms, eyeing him darkly.

"Darling? Who is that I can't recall." The crowns couldn't help but watch the interaction between the two. "What, don't say that, dear. Sully-Chan, help me!"

The slender demon only tilts their head. "Me? Oh no, I couldn't possibly. After all, I'm just mean old Sully-Chan, after all. Their your spouse, you can talk yourself out of this one."

"SPOUSE!!!!" "YOU GOT MARRIED?!?!" "WHY WASN'T I INVITED TO THE WEDDING?" "HOW COME SULLY-CHAN KNEW THIS?" Many questions flooded the room.

"M-married?" Everyone turns to see Poro staring at you in horror. "This can't be true! This is some silly joke, yes?"

"Mmm, you're right. I really lowered my standards, marrying such childish and greedy demon like him." You side stepped the attack. But what surprised everyone was when Derkila threw Poro out the window.

"ARE YOU HURT?" He inspected you looking for a scratch. "Mmm, I'm fine, dear." You smugly look at the fuming demon who was glaring at you from behind the large demons back.

"Yes... just fine, indeed." Poro looks ready to rip you apart, but you just couldn't resist. You had to give another push.

"After all, who else can say they have such a strong husband?" She cooed softly. You watch as some of the other crowns had to drag their friend out of the room.

"You're absolutely wicked for teasing like that, Darling." The dark-haired demon laughs, resting his head against yours. "But that's what you like the most about me."

[temperjoke]

The West Gets Weird

"I didn't do nothing!" the panicked voice screeched through the small jail, "I'm a victim here!"

The voice belonged to a woman, dressed in only a pajama shirt that clung to her curves as hard as she cling to the cell bars.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure you're just a pure innocent dove. Look, the only reason we didn't arrest you on public indecency when you stumbled into town this morning was because someone took pity on you and put that shirt on you. Clearly you're on something though, cause you're not right in the mind, walking through the prairie without a stitch of clothing." The man scoffed at her, the badge on his chest glinting in the light. "You're just lucky that the sheriff's dealing with some bigger problems than some drugged-up mine camp whore."

"I swear, there's something out there! I was kidnapped! Please just listen to me!" Tears started forming in her eyes, as Alys struggled to keep herself under control.

The deputy, cleared irritated, let out a large sigh. "Fine, if nothing else, maybe it'll help the doc figure out what you've got in your system so we can get you straightened out." He pulled out a notepad and one of the new-fangled pens that the traders had brought in with them.

"Oh thank you, you'll understand, we're not safe, any of us!"

-------------------------

The moon was full that night. I was out behind a shed, trying to enjoy what was left of the night, after trying to earn a meal out around the camps. It wasn't easy work, but entertaining the boys was better than picking up a shovel and digging. Anyways, I was about to light up a smoke.

"A smoke? Just what were you trying to inhale?" The deputy interrupted, pausing in his note-taking.

"Oh, something one of the miners gave me, he said he had gotten it from a hhetsarro, said it gave a nice buzz when it was smoked. Figured it'd be cheaper than alcohol. Anyways..."

There I was, I had just taken a puff of the pipe and was started to feel a little tingle as I exhaled the smoke. The night was relaxing and peaceful, then all of a sudden, I was engulfed with a beam of light, as if someone had turned on the sun!

I couldn't see what was shining the light, it was too bright to see! The light shifted a little, it seemed to focus, and I started to feel lighter. Then I realized, something was actually lifting me up!

I was paralyzed by some invisible force that lifted me off the ground to a strange metal ship. It held me in an iron grip and I couldn't resist. I found myself in a strange blue room, with lots of lights all over the place. The energy force held me up, then a series of hot beams sliced every stitch of clothing from my body! The light loosened it's grip on me, and left me floating in the air.

The ordeal was too much for me, and I found myself loosing consciousness. But, before I passed out, I saw the most terrifying thing of all. My captors, the ones who had enacted these horrors on my person? Alien rabbits! I lost my fight to stay awake, my mind reeling from the entire affair.

"Rabbits did this to you. That's what you're claiming."

"They weren't normal rabbits! They walked on two legs, they were operating these machines!"

"Right."

A-anyways, when I came to, my head was pounding, and my body hurt all over. And I mean my entire body. I don't know why they did it, but it felt like they had explored every nook and cranny I had, without paying for it! I found myself on the mesa just outside of town, naked as a jaybird. I stumbled to town in a daze, my head swimming and aching with thirst.

-------------------

"Right, so you smoked some strange weed that you don't really know where from, saw a bunch of visions about highly advanced rabbits that stripped you naked and did stuff to you."

"Yes, so you'll let me out of here?"

The deputy sighed. He wasn't getting paid enough for this.

[pixies-and-poets]

Music of the Night - Chapter Five

Hello everyone!

I've known how this story would end for most of a year, but just... haven't gotten around to writing it. I guess because of how depressing it is!! But maybe I had to wait for the return of the bleak and dark winter in which this story was born, to get me back in the mood. Here we are!

There will probably be two parts left after this, unless I end up going overboard. I'd love to wrap this up by the end of January, but we'll see.

If a bit of body horror and an unhappy ending will bother you, don't read the rest of this story. But if you're like YES, GIVE ME THE ANGST, well... enjoy!(?)

Chapter One - In Sleep He Sang to Me

Chapter Two - Do I Dream Again?

Chapter Three - Our Strange Duet

Chapter Four - To Glance Behind

Chapter Five - Those Who Have Seen Your Face

Woodrow’s mind was a blur as he propelled himself away from Sweetlopek’s home. He put one foot in front of the other, clutching the two shirts wrapped over his arm, trying not to think about the brief image of Dryad crying- something he had never seen before.

Before he knew it he was back at the lonely cabin. He wasn’t really sure how long he had been gone, and he wondered if Phantom had finished his bathing. He gently gave a knock at the shack’s flimsy door. “Phantom? May I come in?”

“Please do,” came the sing-song answer. His voice sounded so merry, in contrast to everything else on the planet, that the warden couldn't resist a smile. He opened the door, and his eyes met with something… wonderful.

It was Phantom, on the bed, surrounded by dirty and blackened little rags- but he had undergone a transformation. Most of his fur was clean, his hair still a mess but no longer matted and stringy, and he even looked a little less sick and exhausted, although perhaps it was merely his obvious good mood at being able to groom himself and let his glorious form shine through. He almost looked normal, aside from the mask, and the fur and skin of his torso transitioning into a pitch-black belly that still was filled to bursting with darkmess.

And he was naked.

The warden’s eyes widened behind his glasses, and he looked at the floor sheepishly. Come now, you fool, there’s nothing wrong with seeing a fellow-rabbid with no clothes on, he told himself… but it was always odd to see one when they were normally accustomed to wearing them. Still, something else was going on here besides the situation being unusual.

“You’re back at last!” said the ghost joyfully, as Woodrow made his way over to the bedside, still not looking at him, but instead noting Phantom’s ruined clothes which had been folded up and laid on the floor. “And I see you succeeded in your quest for vestments.”

“Mm-hmm,” said the warden, draping the shirts onto the back of the room’s chair. “How did, ah-” he stammered, “How did- you look like you’ve done well for yourself- did you manage to get everything off?”

“Well, mostly,” said the ghost. “I am afraid it might come back, in due time, but for now I feel like a new man. However- I believe there are some spots on my back I could not quite reach…”

“Oh, that’s unfortunate!” Woodrow slowly forced himself to meet the other’s face, and rather than echoing his expression of concern, Phantom was smiling cheerfully. “I- that won’t do at all. I suppose I, I must assist you… if that’s alright-”

Phantom noticed that the other was downright shaking with nerves. What a silly, precious fool, he thought. What is there to be so nervous about?

“Mr. Woodrow,” he said, leaning forward and suddenly taking the warden by the paw. “Are you alright? Are you cold?”

“I- no, no, not at all, quite the opposite, it’s only- I, I worry for you, I suppose, and for my own skill. At being a doctor. At caring for you.” Even his paw seemed tense within the grasp of the other.

“You are doing very well so far, for something so far outside of your normal job,” said the ghost smoothly. “I am well satisfied with your bedside manner.”

Phantom felt the smaller paw relax. “I’m glad to hear it,” said the warden softly. “Let us get to work then.”

He sat down beside the larger figure on the bed, and took up the soap and a clean rag. Phantom turned, and indeed on the middle of his back were several stubborn and hardened patches of darkmess. The poet wet the cloth, rubbed some of the precious soap into it, and got to work gently scrubbing between his patient’s shoulders. The patches of dried goo began to slowly soften and break down.

For a little while, neither of them talked. And then:

“I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“No. It feels most wonderful.”

Woodrow was calm now. The gentle scrubbing motion… the fact that Phantom’s upper body was somehow warm, despite everything… the progress he was making… he felt like, at least for the moment, he could wash away everything unpleasant around him, just as he was doing for his patient.

But soon Woodrow noticed something. “Ah… we are almost out of water in this bucket. I should go to the well…”

But there was a tiny rumble of thunder, and Jinx - the little cloud - positioned herself above the bucket. She began to rain into it; and soon it had filled again by several more inches.

Woodrow smiled. “Oh, of course! You are ever so good at filling buckets, after all.”

Phantom was also grinning in amusement. “I say, what a helpful little companion you have! That water is… clean, I take it?”

“As clean as you could ask for. As fresh as that from the well or a spring, at the very least.” Jinx had seemingly exhausted herself for the moment, and now - slightly smaller, and quite more transparent, she floated up to their eye level and gave a bob. “Thank you, my friend,” said Woodrow happily, and then she - barely visible - excused herself through a hole in the wall, doubtless to work on replenishing her supply.

Woodrow was so used to Jinx’s presence that he scarcely thought of her as another being, but perhaps Phantom did, for now that the two of them were alone, something about the atmosphere changed. As Woodrow worked his way down his patient’s back, Phantom sighed.

“Portafortuna,” he said. “I… I truly must express my gratitude. For your care, your attention, your kindness. I am sure I do not deserve it.”

“Oh, Phantom!” replied the other passionately. “Why would you ever say such a thing? Of course you do. You little know how much joy it has brought me, to have someone to care for.”

“Well,” said the ghost. “Mon gardien… there is something that I want to tell you. It is only right that you know.”

“Mmmhmm?”

The ghost turned to meet his companion’s eyes, and as the poet’s hands were full, he rested his own paws on Woodrow’s knees instead. “This is my fault. Everything that has happened to me. I am not a victim. I chose this.”

Woodrow blinked his green-blue eyes behind his glasses, sitting there helplessly with a chunk of soap in one hand and a rag in the other. ”Whatever do you mean?”

“What I mean is that some time ago, Cursa came to me, when I was low and desperate. And I did not refuse her. I did not fight her. I… let her take me. Control me. The loss of my will in exchange for power. She made me a deal, and I agreed to it.”

The warden was silent for a moment, still frozen in place. “....We all make mistakes,” he said, wanting to offer something, but still in shock, not fully understanding.

“Oh, trust me, I have made many mistakes,” said the ghost sadly, looking down. “But this is the largest one by far. No decision has ever been so dreadful.”

“But you came to regret it?” said Woodrow. “Surely you must have. You are fighting it now- her influence. That is all that matters.”

“You are too kind to me,” said the ghost. “I… I do not deserve it. I do not know all that I have done, under her influence. I have spent much of the past month unconscious, or blind and trapped within my own mind, not knowing what my body is doing.” Woodrow looked at his face, and saw there a dread and regret that shook him to his core.

“I do not know what I have done,” he repeated.

“Oh, Phantom,” said the poet in despair. “It’s… we all have our moments of weakness and misery. What you did while being possessed was nary your fault. You made a bad decision, and since then you have come to your senses.” He put the soap and rag down, and touched Phantom on the side of his cheek. “You are no longer under her influence. If so, you would never admit such things to me. You wouldn’t be trying, body and mind, to rid yourself of this curse. You are yourself, your wonderful self. Oh, Tom- may I call you that?”

The ghost nodded.

“Tom, I… thank you for telling me the truth. But it does not change my feelings for you. My- my desire to care for you, that is. If anything, it only makes them stronger. We must get the darkmess out of you, for I know it must chew at your conscience, your very soul, as well as your body.”

Phantom smiled, and… a tear ran down from his unmasked eye. “Poet of the woods,” he said, “you are far more than one such as I deserves.”

“Well,” said the poet, “the universe gives me what it thinks I deserve. And if it gave you to me as a curse and a burden… well, the joke is on the Fates, for it is a burden I am happy to bear. Now… let’s get back to work, shall we?”

Woodrow took up the rag again, and gently pushed Phantom to turn his body back around. After a few more moments of silence, working down his back, Phantom suddenly asked: “If you are to call me Tom… may I call you Tristan?”

Woodrow stopped for a moment in his scrubbing, and his ears perked up. “Oh!! Yes- yes, if you wish. That would be lovely. But… how did you know?” Even most of Woodrow’s own poetry volumes omitted his first name, leaving only his initials. He liked his first name, very much so, and yet- it had always been somewhat private to him. It was not often he heard it from the mouth of another.

“Ah… it was in your journal. The inside cover.”

“So you looked…”

“I did not read anything personal! But- well, yes, I did go looking through for your scraps of poetry, I must admit. I was curious. I had to have a taste of your work. I hope you shall forgive me.”

“Well. Only if you liked it,” said the writer playfully.

“I did, Tristan,” said the singer. “I liked it very much.”

And for the next few minutes, while Woodrow finished up the washing, the two continued to talk. Phantom felt the relief of finally being honest, and Woodrow felt the joy of getting to talk about his inspirations and subject matter, and without verbalizing it, the pair both knew that they felt very close. Safe, trusted and trusting. Complete.

“Well, I think that’s the last of it,” said the poet as he draped the now-dirty cloth over the side of the bucket. “You are positively sparkling.”

Phantom smiled, attempting to turn his head to see his back. “Thank you, good doctor,” he said. And then suddenly his face grew serious. “But now that we are done with this, and I feel fresh and in charge of my senses… there is one more thing I must ask of you.”

Woodrow nodded, now ready for anything. “Yes.”

Phantom pointed a paw at the mask that still occupied the right side of his face, also extending up into a long, straight ear in addition to the two of his own. “This,” he said. “This mask… when I first came to after Cursa claimed me, she had somehow placed it on me. It is a mark and brand of her power over me. Since that day, I have been unable to remove it. I think the darkmess has fused it too tightly to my visage… but, if you were to use that special soap… then perhaps, finally…”

Woodrow nodded in excitement. Could this be the cure, indeed? If they were to get that mask off, then would he stop producing the terrible slime? Would he be free?

“I shall try my best,” said the poet. “Now, lay back and let me get to work.”

Phantom did so, resting his head on the bed’s flat and pathetic pillow, and Woodrow sat in the chair by the bedside. With his hands and yet another cloth (he was glad he had brought pretty much his entire home collection) he began to work a soapy lather under the edges of the mask, between its hard form and Phantom’s soft fur. Soon, the hardened darkmess that had glued it to Phantom’s face was no longer visible, and he slid the rag as far as he could get it under the mask. The ghost’s other eye was closed, trying to stay peaceful and calm despite his anticipation.

“Alright, Tom,” said the poet at last. “I think this is the best I can do. I will have to try and pull it off now. Let me know if it’s hurting, alright?”

Phantom opened his eye. “I will,” he said. “And yet… if it hurts, I want you to keep going. It will probably cause me some pain. Agony, even. But you need to get it off.”

“Tom!! Well, I'd that's the case, I couldn’t possibly…”

“I am prepared,” said the other, deadly serious. “Please. You have to get it off, no matter what.”

Woodrow’s face darkened with worry. “A-alright,” he said. “I’ll try. Well then… are you ready?”

The other nodded.

“So… in order to get leverage, I think I’ll have to-” he climbed onto the bed next to Phantom again, and then sat on his chest, his legs splayed across on either side. So eager and afraid was he to begin this process that all embarrassment and demureness had gone out the window, and he was not even conscious of the boldness of his current position. “Alright then. Here goes.”

He reached the edges of his paws under the sides of the mask, and with all his strength, began to pull. It lifted a little bit, although the more flexible and stretchy darkmess deeper inside held tight, and wouldn’t let it lift more than an inch or so.

Phantom hissed, gritting his teeth, biting his lip.

“Tom, I- I can stop-”

“No. Keep going.”

Woodrow swallowed, and pulled even harder. Something snapped and gave way, and the mask lifted up another couple inches. But at the same time, Phantom let out a yelp like an injured dog.

“AAAAIIIIEGGH–”

“Phantom!” cried Woodrow, though he did not let go.

The ghost-rabbid’s eyes were closed in pain, and it took him a moment- through ragged breath, to speak.

“KEEP. GOING.”

In an agony of his own, Woodrow kept pulling with all his might. He focused his strength into a concentrated yank, and another strand of darkmess seemed to break- and with it another scream of pain, of such volume that it shook the dilapidated walls of the shack. Jinx had appeared again, coming through a broken window and taking up residence at Woodrow’s shoulder, to see what the emergency was. And so too did a figurative cloud darken Woodrow’s face, and his voice cracked and broke.

“Tom-”

The ghost was gasping, tears emerging from his pinched-shut eye.

“Pull…” he said weakly.

“Tom, I can’t-”

“PULL!”

Woodrow felt a tear drop from one of his own eyes, and gave another yank. The mask was now a full foot or so away from Phantom’s face, but still attached by a stubborn mass of black sludge. Phantom screamed, and dust rained down from the roof as the tiny cabin rocked under the power of his voice. Every scream impaled Woodrow’s heart, so deep and raw was the anguish they conveyed. He could now see Phantom’s face under where the mask had been, and took a peek-

He was horrified. He saw no face there, no eye, just a mass of darkmess… and in fact, more was now gradually bubbling up, spilling out. As if he had unsealed an accursed well. As if- as if there was nothing there anymore, no skin or flesh or fur or ectoplasm or whatever made up Phantom’s body- just an opening into the sludge that now filled in his innards, and it was now springing up like a fountain.

Phantom screamed again, and the unsealed well of darkmess began to bubble up and outwards, dribbling out towards his other eye, down towards his moustache, his mouth, off the side of his face, into his hair again, in rivulets towards his neck, like thick black blood from an open wound-

Woodrow shrieked, and could not take it anymore. He knew not what to do. He had to stem the tide- he pressed the mask back down onto Phantom’s face, quickly and firmly. Phantom groaned in defeated exhaustion, as Woodrow snatched up the rag and wiped the new mess off of his face, quickly but gently- from his lips, from around his eyes, his forehead and neck. Then he tossed the rag aside, and weakly, sobbing, he collapsed over his companion’s body, their faces side by side and touching, Woodrow’s glasses pushed up and off of his face.

“Oh, Tom, I’m so sorry,” he sobbed, hugging the soft and warm body of his patient. “I’m so sorry. I cannot… I can’t. This might require an expert.”

There was no answer for a moment. The warden was unsure if his companion was even conscious. But then he stirred, his large arms wrapping himself around the poet, hugging him back.

“It’s alright,” he said softly. “You tried your best.” His eye opened, and he smiled a sad smile. “Thank you, Tristan.” He caressed the poet’s cheek, dreamily- and then suddenly his eye widened, and he frowned. “But you must get up now. Remember, you cannot fall asleep here.”

“I hardly care anymore…”

“No,” said Phantom firmly, pulling away. “I fear that Cursa may still use me, when I am unconscious. She will use me to get to you, the warden of this planet. And if we were both unconscious- who knows what could happen.” He struggled into a sitting position, and lifted Woodrow up as well. “I cannot let that happen. I cannot let anything happen to you.”

Then he reached over to the back of the chair, grabbed the blue one of the shirts (although he still had no idea where Woodrow had obtained them, or from whom), and put it on, starting to button it over his chest. The poet sat there watching him, bleary-eyed, exhausted of soul and blank of mind.

“You should leave for today,” said the ghost. “I will enjoy the books you have brought me. I shall be fine until tomorrow.

“But it’s early yet-”

“And yet you are exhausted already,” said Phantom, smiling wryly. “See what I have done! Surely you have other things to attend to. Worry not. You can check in on me later today, if you wish, but it’s up to you.”

Woodrow nodded, sadly. “Yes. There are always things for me to attend to… and almost nothing with which I can actually help.”

He got off the bed, but only made it a step before turning back around.

“But- Tom, before I go. You have your voice back… can you sing?”

“Ah! I was wondering if you might ask that.” He sighed, and shook his head. “No… I am lucky enough to talk. And to scream, I suppose. I can only sing when Cursa wills it. Listen here-” he opened his mouth, put his hand to his chest, and- let loose a horrific gargling wail.

“You see? Not very pleasant!”

Woodrow nodded. “Not very pleasant,” he repeated. “But someday… someday you will sing again, your own songs. I’m not sure how we get that mask off, but we will figure something out. I promise.”

And suddenly, looking at the strange creature on the bed, so beautiful despite his belly churning with destruction, wearing his best friend’s shirt, and yoked with a mask from the one who oppressed the galaxy- it was all too much to bear, and his brain started to burst and leak with poems and metaphors that he dare not utter. He grabbed the ghost’s paw and kneeled on the floor.

“Tom, my sunshine, my hope- I promise to save you. I promise.”

Phantom’s eyes were wide. “Monsieur Tristan! I appreciate it, but- well, some things may be out of your power, or anyone’s power, to resolve.”

“I know how it is to be powerless,” said the warden, looking up at him. “But the Fates have not killed me yet, and they shan’t take you either. If there’s one thing I know, it’s how to survive, and… I will not give up on you. Not ever.”

The ghost smiled, tenderly, genuinely moved. “Then I will keep fighting as well. And someday we shall enjoy better days on this planet, in the cool breeze under falling leaves. Perhaps a long time hence. But I want to see the planet as you have told me, and written about.”

“Tom, I…”

And then the two of them leaned forward, their faces towards each other- but Phantom pulled back.

“...No, Tristan. Alas.” He motioned towards his throat with his free paw. “I am full of danger. You should no more grace me with your lips than you should a bottle of poison. I am truly sorry.”

Woodrow nodded sadly. But instead, he placed a small kiss on the back of his beloved’s hand, and stood.

“I will return as soon as I can,” said the warden.

“And I will keep myself safe and warm for you, until then.”

Thus the warden left, followed by his cloud, and as soon as he had cleared the threshold and walked back to town, in a stream of anguished murmurs burst out fragments of verse- the poetry of a love he could no longer deny.

[epickiya722]

oooooo hi kiya !!! do u have any headcanons for hobbies the kids in class 1a might enjoy?? candy for u -> 🍬

You just reminded me that I have a draft for 1A Headcanons I have... I'll finish it eventually...

But I do! Yes, I do!

Now I don't have hobbies for every student, maybe, but I do have some.

Okay, other than canon hobbies...

Jiro - music

Ashido - dance

Sato - baking

Shinsou - cycling (yes, I'm adding him, who is stopping me?)

A few I headcanon are...

Ojiro and Shoji being into sewing and knitting. I figure because of their quirks, they picked up on sewing because they may have to make adjustments to their clothing and sometimes help others, like maybe an accidental rip in jeans.

Ooh, and Koda! I can see him knitting those cute sweaters and scarfs.

Midoriya and Kaminari, I see being artistic. Midoriya is more into sketching on paper, using markers and pencils. For Kaminari, I can see him being more into doing his art digitally, maybe even do those gifs that we see here on Tumblr.

Okay, before I didn't have on for Iida, but now I feel like he'll be into writing. He probably reads a lot, but it's not genres you expect. I think he'll like to read different genres, he doesn't stick to one. Same with writing. He'll try to write romance and then switch to horror.

For Tokoyami, I see him doing poetry and also writing songs. I can see him being into astrology just like Uraraka. They have in depth conversations about astrology.

Hagakure is a nail artist in my head. She likes to play with colors, charms, designs, crystals. And since moving into the dorms, she'll practice on anyone who will let her. Ojiro is often her candidate.

This will always be a funny one to me, but Todoroki and those fun shaped ice trays. Hear me out! I see him and Yaomomo making those aesthetic drink videos. Todoroki really favors the ice trays and he got really excited knowing he could have teddy bear and rose ice cubes and in different flavors. So almost every day, he'll use them and it developed into making the videos with Yaomomo because she couldn't resist making pretty tea and coffee drinks.

Sato also makes treats for the videos.

Sero is a gymnast in my head. He also does yoga (with Ojiro who I also see being into yoga) and aerial dancing. The way he uses his quirk and his body type just gives me those vibes.

For now, that's what I came up with for some of 1A!

Also thank you!! Here -> 🍪

[shadovan]

❰❰ HURT ❱❱ sender is hurt protecting receiver

@lcftyambiticns Instead gets a drabble, apparently.

It was hard for Tareque to allow himself to feel anger when the insults prattled off at him. He knew what he was. Most people knew what he was. Outside of the circle of peers he kept in Neverwinter's city, he was essentially a monster in the eyes of most.

He couldn't hold their fear against him. That fear was justified, whether he ever wanted to admit it or not.

It was only when they actively hunted him that he lashed out. Sometimes they came to his tower. Other times they stalked him in the streets. Whether it be by holy devotion or some underlying vengeance, there always seemed to be someone with a blade trying to end him.

He heard them before he saw them, this time. Eyes closed, he listened to their footsteps along the cobble. Boots? Yes, definitely boots. Two pair, it seemed. Three, possibly, but -- ah, no, just two.

They certainly weren't making much of an attempt at being discreet. Had someone perhaps alerted the guard to the undead horror roaming about Baldur's Gate? He wouldn't have been surprised.

Fools, he thought. These ones were moving quickly. With a quiet sigh, Tareque took a few steps away from Razzlebabble Tower, which had been his initial destination. Unfortunately, it seemed he had some unexpected company to deal with first. Fine, he had some energy to burn off anyhow.

These ones were even more oblivious than the lich had expected. They swung their swords at him, the blades shifting through him like mist, it was easy to predict their motions. What did they think he was? A zombie? A vampire? No, the sun was still setting. Did they even know what they were trying to fell?

"Fucking hell, get off me you pest," he hissed, grabbing the wrist of one before kicking them away from him.

While he could assume their moves, what Tareque hadn't factored into the struggle was the sudden familiar presence that had leapt into the chaos in attempt to halt the guards from their unnecessary commands. "Lorri, what--?!"

-- The shout of pain told that his surprise was a few seconds too late. The close proximity had resulted in a rather deep cut along Lorroakan's arm.

He scowled, teeth gritting as Tareque lunged on the guard, pummeling them to the ground as he wrapped his hands around their neck-- growling as he strangled the life out of them. The breath froze from their body with a deathly chill.

"WHY? I didn't fucking touch anyone!!" He yelled at the dying guard in blatant frustration. "Why the hell did you have to attack first?!" He never started the episodes so angry, but the unfolding events drew it out of him in a way he couldn't resist! Not entirely, at least.

"Damnit!" He scowled, letting go of the dead guard and scrambling to his feet, more strings of curses passing his lips. In truth, he was more angry with himself than his attackers.

Lorroakan --

Anger shifted to concern as Tareque's attention focused back on the wizard. He hesitated, hearing the approach of more guards. The second one had vanished, apparently to gather others on nearby patrol.

"I... I'll be back... Go inside, put pressure on that," he demanded, reluctantly, before darting the opposite direction, just in the line of vision for the guards to see. He couldn't exactly allow Lorroakan's precious reputation to be besmirched from the clear sight of a lich who had just slain a guard in his willing company.

[no-more-tales-tavern]

@a-den-of-demons sent: "Vex and Pike end up being left behind at the end of the Underdark arc, and are given to clorota as a reward, being broken and drained by him till they are basically his sex slaves."

So, personally, I would like to keep these snippets down to one woman at a time, just because dividing the focus between two can make the responses extremely lengthy. So, I'll be flipping a coin on who to write being raped in this response.

It had been a mad rush to escape Yug'Voril—the entirety of the Underdark it seemed was hounding after them, intent on putting them in their sorry place. At the last possible moment, Tiberius managed to open the Teleportation Circle and pull everyone in, shunting them across Tal'dorei back to Emon in the blink of an eye—everyone but Vex, who was pulled away a second too late.

Her eyes stared at where the circle had once been in absolute horror—she couldn't believe it. She couldn't—they'd left her. Slowly, she felt the strength in her legs give way, and she dropped to her knees, her eyes welling with tears. It took weeks to get down here—weeks of agony and strife. There was no way they'd be coming back for her—she felt the tears run down her cheeks, just as a hand cupped her chin from behind and tilted her head back.

Clarota was there. His eyes gleaming with wicked intent, and his long facial tentacles slowly descending to her. [Nowhere to run now, little elf~] his voice croaked in her mind.

Before she could react, the tentacles encircled her head—two thrusting into her ears, and two plunging down her throat as she opened her mouth in a cry. Her body jerked at the sudden penetrations, her eyes rolling back as she felt the slimy, slick tendrils thrusting into her sensitive ears, slithering into her brain, and her words of refusal became muffled moans as the two in her mouth coiled together and thrust hard.

Slowly, she could feel her mind slipping away.

Dimly, as if through a fog, she felt the mind flayer's hands move to rip the clothes from her body—her toned and tanned half-elven figure on full display, before she was lifted up by her thighs. She felt something—no, two somethings!—press against the curve of her ass, before letting out another muffled scream as two enormous cocks slammed into her pussy and cunt at once. Apparently, mind flayers had even more surprises up their sleeves—and even in her fading mind, Vex moaned with desire at the thought.

[That's it, Vex'ahlia~] Clarota's voice echoed into her mind, his hips thrusting hard and steady into her, driving both of his massive cocks hard and deep into her holes. [Give in~ your friends won't come for you~ give in, and become my stupid little slave~]

The words rolled over her mind, seeping in through the cracks his tentacles had left. She moaned, her body arching, sweat clinging to her form as the eldritch abomination fucked her harder and longer. He was right, she realized—her body moaned, and her eyes dimmed as the thoughts slowed and stilled more. No one was coming for her. No one. She was alone. Stuck here, trapped, and forced to take her master's cocks, his tentacles, over and over again.

[Yes~] the voice echoed again, and she felt the tentacles thrusting harder into her brain. [Your master~ you live to serve your master~]

Her master...yes...

Vex let out another lewd moan as the light in her eyes went out at last—her body convulsed with a sudden climax as all intelligence was stripped from her mind. She moaned in ecstasy, sucking dutifully on the tentacles raping her throat, as her hips bucked down into the cocks plowing into her. No resistance, no restraint—her body knew what its purpose was, and she would not resist it, never again.

She belonged to her master now, and with her master she would remain. Forever.

[casspurrjoybell-32]

Taken - Blue Moon Series - Chapter 20a

*Warning Adult Content*

Lakota Bateman

"I'm held prisoner... by the bond your mother and I have. When she took you away from me, Teagan... that was the first time I ever hated my mate. And then she demanded using her mating and Alpha influence to keep me away from you, Lakota. She ordered me never to go near you again. Using my wolf's love for her against me. And as much as I wanted to save you... my body wouldn't let me defy her order," he paused.

"I love your mother... she is my other half and it's a curse. I can never fully get away from her and I can never fully resist her."

********

A few hours later I was sitting alone on my bed, leaning up against the head board, just staring at the wall opposite of me.

I was thinking of what my father had told Teagan and me.

So it was my mother who was the mastermind behind all our suffering.

How could she do that to us? Did she have no heart at all?

Giving her children up like that just for magic stones?

Just then a familiar voice was echoing in my ear and I did my best to ignore her.

"Oh pet," she purred making my skin crawl.

"He left you to me to be tortured day in and day out. Your mother's not the only evil one here," she laughed.

Her hand came and caressed my hair softly which in turn made me shiver.

"Both of them are. But do you want to know why they gave you up?" she whispered.

"Because you're nothing. Nothing but fodder, mutt. My personal walking sustenance."

Crawling over me, she sat down on my lap but I barely felt it.

I just had to keep reminding myself that she was a figment of my imagination.

Slowly I caught her hand raise up to her mouth and everything in me stilled.

'It isn't real... It isn't real... It isn't real...' I chanted as I watched her take her gloved finger in her mouth and bite down on the leather, pulling it off her hand with her teeth.

As if in slow motion she reached out and I couldn't help but stare in horror.

"No," I whined but there was no stopping her touch.

The feel of her hand pressing up against my neck brought back the memories of how it felt and I screamed.

Letting the loudest scream escape my mouth because there was nothing else I could do but endure, like Is always have and I always will, it seemed.

All I could remember was thrashing around as the pain ran through my body like a constant current of electricity.

"What's going on," someone exclaimed as they burst into my room.

It was hard to hear over my own screams.

Soon I was being held down.

"Shit," I heard a deep voice that sounded a lot like Gale's curse, as something shattered somewhere in the room

A pair of warm hands were now cupping my face, opening my eyes I was forced to stare in a pair of piercing blue eyes.

"C-Cyrus," I stuttered through the pain.

"Yes, it's me. Tell us what's happening," he asked, his voice held such a desperate edge.

"It hurts, she won't leave me alone," I cried.

"Okay," reaching down he pulled me in his arms, laying my head against his chest and caressed my hair soothingly.

"Who is she, Lakota?" this was a different voice.

Glancing up I saw Teagan standing at the edge of the bed giving me his usual expressionless face.

But even though his face was always blank you could see the fire behind those black eyes.

A fire that burned so hot, fueled by his rage.

"Mistress."

Just with that one word it made the whole room drop several degrees.

Cyrus' arms tightened around me while I saw Teagan's eyes slowly light up, a red ring was circling his iris.

"Where is she?" the bed dipped behind me and I was wrapped in another pair of strong arms.

I instantly was filled with bit of a reprieve from her constant torment, finally after waking form the infirmary.

Being in both of their arms seemed to lessen the pain bit by bit, until it was completely gone and I could think again.

"In my head," I answered.

"She won't leave me alone. She's always there," I whimpered.

"Shh, you're fine now. She's not here anymore, right?" Gale said petting my head and I nodded.

"Hey, Teagan. Can you give us a minute?" Cyrus asked into my hair.

Without a word he was gone, shutting the door behind him.

*********

Both my mates cooed and hushed me as I lay between them.

I was nothing but a bother to them at this point I felt.

I need to prove that I was valuable in some way not just a liability.

A mentally unstable person who needed saving all the time.

Suddenly I wasn't feeling comforted, I was feeling angry at all the reassurance they were giving me.

Tearing myself away from their arms I shot off the bed and swung around to face them with narrowed eyes.

"I'm not a pup. I don't need you two to come to my rescue at every turn."

I knew I was lashing out at them for no good reason but this self-hatred inside of me kept growing and it needed a place to go.

They both just sat there with shocked expressions.

"I know I'm weak. I know I can't keep up with you two physically and I have a weak mind. I'm an Achilles heel for you. So don't. Don't coddle me like a child. I need to learn to walk on my own two feet and work hard at being your equal," I exclaimed.

With them not connected to me I felt the hand of mistress as she casually placed it on my shoulder and I physically flinched.

See even touching them saved me from more of my weaknesses.

It was my curse to never truly have peace it seemed and I had to learn to live with the pain, like I have all my life.

There was no wolf to hide in now.

I was fully exposed and forced to experience the worst of what this world had to offer.

"What are you talking about?" this caused me to look up at Cyrus, who was the one to speak just then.

"Your about the strongest person I know Lakota. There's nothing weak about you. And it's that strength that makes you so stubborn sometimes, you think you're the only one that should suffer but that's not true."

Cyrus slid off the bed and walked up to me.

I looked up into his blue eyes and saw them soften as he gazed down at me.

"I'm not alone when I say that everything that you are is everything that we want. Your past doesn't effect how we feel about you. What you may turn into doesn't scare us because we'll be right there with you to pull you back to us," Cyrus continued.

The bed shifted as Gale got up and came to stand with us now.

"I'm not an Angel, Lakot. I know what it's like to fight for your life. And right now I know that all you're trying to do is survive what the world has dealt you. But don't push us away. We're here to help you through all the tough times and laugh with you through the good times. Even I couldn't have crawled out of the dark hole I was in without help."

Reaching out he pinched my chin between his forefinger and thumb and lifted it up till I was looking right into his deep brown eyes.

Instantly the mistress disappeared at his touch.

Slowly but surely his eyes turned a hypnotic silver as he stared at me and that familiar jasmine scent of his permeated the air and my body caught fire.

His thumb raised up and caressed my bottom lip softly, I lost my breath suddenly and my eyes dazed.

"Gale," I heard Cyrus warned him quietly.

But Gale just smiled, showing me his beautiful pearl white teeth and fangs that were growing larger.

"We'll help you, my little lakot," his voice was now a delicious purr. What was happening?

"Lean on us and we'll do everything in our power to fulfill your wishes."

Leaning down he ran his nose from my shoulder and up to my ear.

"We're at your command. If a task is too much for you to handle on your own, just ask and we will drop everything and come to you without hesitation."

[radio-charlie]

"Okay buckaroos. Listen up and let me tell you a thing."

The federal agent had the spiritual stench of somebody who knew their own self to be irredeemably unappealing, and was now straining against that knowledge to How Do You Do Fellow Kids, right in front of an auditorium of sleep-addled 18 to 28 year olds, many of whom did not even want to be there.

"Um. Ok. So, my name is Sivilizabrett. Shrett for short. And I'll be walking you through some crazy stuff today. Are we all hyped to be here at the Seminar for Planet Earth's Specialest Snowflakes!"

A small whoop echoed from the backseats. Elsewhere, the glow of phone screens illuminated faces resolutely trained on far more appealing things on social media.

"Alright, maybe we could've named it something else. But that's really what you all are! You've been chosen because you're special and we're going to make you even specialer!”

The screen behind Shrett turned on. A PowerPoint slideshow with cryptid fanart and severely unfunny vaporwave dadacore memes on the title slide appeared. The title text read "Make America Spooky Again".

"I bet you've wondered - since you discovered our existence that is - what exactly it is that we do with all this stuff we learn from the weird toasters and tentacled horrors. After all, that note-taking and archiving has gotta be for something right?“

Some faces looked up from their phones.

"Well, that something is this!" Shrett trilled, clicking a button on a remote. The slideshow flicked to a screen full of words the likes of which people had only seen in science fiction. Space-time compression. Long-distance healing. Telekinesis. Remote viewing.

Mind control.

Shrett couldn't resist prancing around on the stage a little, making sure to show everyone how nice and shiny their hair was. It felt a little bit like watching a showhorse. Except nobody was paying much attention to the mane.

"Um... Does that text there really say 'mind control'," said a Dominican Republic diaspora black woman from the second row. "Like. Actual mind control."

Shrett whizzed around to stare at her, barely managing a smize that concealed the triple K tier racism swelling in their Crackerian veins at the sight of this untermensch that the Department was going to use like a farm animal anyway.

"Yes sistah! Sorry, please feel free to tell me how you'd like to be addressed. I am aware of my white privilege and I'm listening and learning." Shrett stretched the smize a little tighter. "Anyway - yes! That does in fact say mind control. It's a scary phrase! I totally understand that everyone's freaked out. But it's not gonna be like in the movies or video games!”

The slideshow clicked forward again.

"It's going to be more like this!”

In the cold dark of the auditorium, a little rectangle of a video glowed, displaying a gritty low-res preview of a small Indonesian person crouching on a plastic stool. They appeared to be in the middle of a bath that they were taking with water they scooped from a large plastic bucket.

Shrett hit play.

The person continued bathing. It went on like this for awhile, just a normal person doing a normal person thing. And then, just as coolly and languidly as one would pick a little roadside flower to put in one's hair, the person got up, towelled themself off, then headed to the kitchen of their little wooden house. Grabbed a knife. Went to the living area where their mother and sister were watching afternoon TV together. Slashed their mother's throat. Watched their sister scream silently, then loudly, then scramble away on the floor, knocking hot tea everywhere. Slashed her throat too, but not as deeply. Tore off her underwear, raped her as she choked to death on her own blood.

After the murderer was done, they sat on the floor, watched TV for a bit. And then, slowly, something crept into their body and face. As if a part of them was returning. They looked around frantically at the scene as if they'd just awakened right into a nightmare, and started screaming too.

Shrett clapped their beautiful lily white Aryan hands together to signal the end of the video.

"Omg, so sorry, we really should have put a content warning for that. We care a lot about the feelings and traumas and marginalisation of survivors. Next time we'll do better, okay? Listening and learning."

Nobody in the audience made a sound. But everybody was paying attention, now.

"So that right there, that is just the tip of the iceberg of our capabilities. You see, the United States Department of Paranormal Phenomena, that's just our front-facing name okay! Just some icing and cherries for the cake. The cake itself though is called the United States Department of Multi-Reality Quantum Engineering and Modification. Doesn't roll off the tongue as easy!”

Some audience members were starting to look at each other, mouthing 'what the fuck' and other such expressions of horror. Feeling themself losing ground, Shrett picked up the pace a bit.

"So yeah, basically you can see that it's not like in the movies where a blue light shines out of the robot's eyes or they shudder violently and speak in suddenly ominous tones. It's like it's the same person still, but it's not! All their agency, their personality is briefly muted, so that we can kick in with our contraptions and take over!

That's why we sometimes call them robots, or fuckpigs. They're as good as. After all, everything that made them human was taken away."

It's generally difficult, for someone like Shrett to hide just how much sadistic megalomaniac hatred they harbor for almost every living thing on the planet. In this case, they might have let a bit too much of it slip. They smoothed their leather mommy dom skirt out a bit, searching inwardly for a way to soften the blow.

"With the technology we have developed, we can give you this power, and the best part is, you don't necessarily have to use it like this! You can use it to make people smile! You can use it to give them good luck, or good weather. Good dreams, even! You could be a GOD!”

Somebody in the audience had started to sob.

"You could be what America was always meant to be. A distant, loving keeper of the peace. A beacon! For the white western Christian kingdom. Millions turned into sweet little lambs of The Good Shepherd. The rest, well, discarded however you see fit-"

"You are FUCKED UP man. You and this whole fucking thing. FUCKED UP." A chubby young white guy in a Mortal Kombat t-shirt stood up from his seat, his face pale with fury. His shoulders were trembling. Around him and even further away, people nodded and murmured in agreement. Shrett threw them all a disdainful little smile.

"Okay. I see that not everybody is on board. Understandable! It's a lot to take in." They calmly walked to the center of the stage, until they were standing in the middle of where the video had stopped. The crying and screaming bloodied Indonesian, rocking back and forth between the corpses of their own family.

"I'm gonna have to remind you though. You are not being given a choice."

There was no sound, no movement anywhere however minute, to warn anybody of what happened after. The recruits only knew that, all of a sudden, the white guy who had spoken up started reeling. When his companion asked him if he was alright, he couldn't even answer in full sentences. It was as though he'd lost the ability to speak.

"Don't worry kittens. Your brave friend there is lucky. This effect is only temporary. He's going to be one of God's beautiful precious angels, after all. And we need those to be able to speak English. I mean, like. What kind of angel would that be otherwise." Shrett let out a little laugh. It met zero response in kind.

"You're not gonna let any of us go?" A small voice quivered from another row. This time, Shrett didn't even bother looking to see who it was. They simply slapped their hands on their thighs like they were addressing some errant preschoolers, and said:

"No."

You work for the United States Department of Paranormal Phenomena, where you deal with stuff ranging from a harmless talking toaster to world ending eldritch abominations. Today you have been tasked with giving an orientation class to the new recruits.

[palaceofpassion]

(Prompt) Jaune has decided to take part in No Nut November. Saphron (his secret girlfriend) is horrified at the prospect of not getting the Arc rod and therefore attempts to make him fail.

Saphron gasped, the young woman could not believe her ears, even as her sisters went about discussing how silly the entire thing was, and how their brother was definitely going to fail. She still couldn't come to terms with what he was going to do. So, while they were all distracted she did the only thing the eldest sister SHOULD do. She simply slinked off, and headed towards her brother's room.

Without even bothering to knock she made her way in, the young man froze midway as he was busy changing clothes. So struck in surprise by his sister's arrival, that he didn't even bother to shriek in horror even as she closed the door behind him. Before he had the chance to put on a shirt, she quickly and perhaps too harshly grabbed his arms and flung him towards his bed, where she didn't wait to basically mount him. "Brother dearest."

"Ye...yes... lovely big sister, who would NEVER want to hurt her little brother..." She could see the fear in his eyes as their matching sapphire orbs met one another.

"What is this I've heard about you partaking in a 'No Nut November'?"

"Oh!" She watched him practically shrivel beneath her, though... she wasn't going to let him get out of answering this question. Her body arched forward as her face drew ever so closer to his, stopping only when she was just short of pressing her lips into his own.

"That's not an answer my cute little brother."

"Uhm, well you see... it's something going around and I kind of wanted to challenge myself and..."

"Do you not love me anymore?"

"What?! No of course I do!"

"Really? Do you only love me as your sister?" She made sure to add another pout, her lips just grazing against his, a milimeter more and they'd be touching. She could see him shiver as her hot breath brushed against him.

"No... no... I... I love you..."

"Really?"

"Yeah... I love-love you..."

"Hmm~ Then why do you want to keep from being intimate with me? Am I perhaps too much? Did I do something to keep you from wanting to be with me?"

"No! No nothing like that... I just wanted to challenge myself..."

"But why?"

He opened his mouth, unsure of what to answer with, even as she rested upon him he could feel his resistances slowly crumble. Her purposeful grinding, causing their hips to brush against one another.

"I can feel it you know~ You don't want to do this, right?"

"N...no..." He was so very weak willed.

"Good~ You love me right?"

"Yes..."

"Show me... please?"

He couldn't resist his eldest sister any longer, closing the distance between them their lips pushed together. Her hands suddenly shifted around him, grasping into his hair as she held him ever so close.

"Mmmn~ I can feel it, your big thing growing beneath me, you never wanted to do this~"

He shivered again, his body trembling at her touch. She pulled back, releasing their kiss as a thin trail of saliva dripped between the two of them.

POP

The button on his pants came undone with a flick of a finger, ziiiiip, his zipper was pulled off, and plop, his pants hit the floor. Her clothes had already mysteriously vanished from her body, her fair skin glimmering in the light as thin beads of sweat ran down her chest.

He couldn't believe he'd even thought about trying out this silly no nut thing. Not when his, mostly secret, lover was this damned amazing. "MMm~ It's so hot little brother~ Watch."

She spread her legs, his engorged head pressed against her entrance as she slowly began to descend upon him. Her lower body began to bulge, his thick meaty head pulsing every now and again as she slid it inbetween her soft moist folds.

"Oh gods~ It feels so good, you love it right? Being inside your big sister, your flesh and blood. We were made for one another❤"

"Ye...yes..." He managed to hiss out, her insides tightened around him, as gentle vibrations massaged his cock. Inch by inch she consumed him till she finally rested crotch to crotch with him once more. Their bodies now fully connected the two simply took the moment to bask in one another.

Saph descended, laying now flat against his chest as she nuzzled into her dear little brother. Her love for him knew no bounds, and she would do ANYTHING to keep him to herself, even if it meant foiling this silly little game.

As for Jaune well... his hands ran down his big sister's back, his amazingly talented sister whom he loved more than perhaps life itself. He'd always enjoyed these moments, enjoyed running his hands down her back and finally grasping against her plump Arc made bottom.

"Mmm~ You've always loved my ass. I remember when you used to run into it on 'accident'."

"Hha...ha..ha..." He chuckled rather embarrassingly almost unable to meet her eyes. But as she grabbed his head, forcing the two of them at one another. She pressed another kiss to his lips, this time with a bit more passion, their mouths opening as their tongues began to brush against one another.

Her lower body began to move, hips rising and falling as squelching sounds echoed from their lower regions. PLAP PLAP PLAP

Their bodies moved together, Jaune would thrust upwards as she slammed herself down. Over and over, they continued this little dance, her insides gripping against her brother so very perfectly. Truthfully neither was surprised when their first time had gone so well, they were practically a match made in heaven! They WERE siblings after all.

Neither noticed the door creek open as several sets of eyes watched them with intrigue. Not like either would care though.

Saphron pulled her face back up their tongues sticking out of their mouths as spit dripped from hers into his. A thin trail still clinging between their pink muscles, a soft giggle escaping her lips. "Oh brother~ Oh~ Oh~" She loved it when he pushed against her, his grip tightening as he PULLED her downwards slamming against her cervix in a powerful thrust.

A tingle formed from her lower region, running up her body and practically spiking into her brain. Her first orgasm of the night took over as a thick burst of seed filled her womb. She decided of course, since she was going to make him lose this silly challenge, that they shouldn't take any 'safety' precautions, she was sure her family would understand.

"Well~ That was one time... perhaps No Nut November should be, Non stop Nut November?"

"I... I like that idea..." He spoke between heavy pants.

"Well... lets go for number two then.

[ofdarkestdesires]

Bad End: A tentacle based Hollow manages to breed and corrupt Isane after catching her pf guard.

Isane hated missions to Hueco Mundo. The world of the Hollows was an utterly inhospitable realm, made up of endless bleached deserts that stretched on for miles and forests of obsidian glass trees. Foul souls called this realm their home, and the more foul they were, the more powerful they became. If she had it her way, she would never set foot in this world.

Unfortunately, excursions to cleanse the realm of more violent Hollows were frequent, and those excursions needed at least one competent medic on call. Which was why she was now here in the desert of Hueco Mundo, keeping close watch on her chosen squad from the back. They were brash and rude, and didn't like listening to her advise, so she'd learned it was best if she hung to the back and let them lead the way.

She softly sighed, trudging slowly along. If they weren't careful, they'd end up throwing themselves head first into danger--

As if to mock her, she suddenly felt something tug at her leg.

Before she could even get a word out--or even a shriek--Isane had been pulled silently under the sand. Her voice was muffled by the powdery earth, completely muffled from her companions who continued their reckless march through the desert, utterly unaware of their missing medic. It would be hours before they even noticed the shy and quiet woman was gone.

Despite the sand muffling her, Isane continued to cry and scream, writhing as the something around her ankle dragged her deeper and deeper underground. Suddenly, she felt her foot break the earth, and all at once she broke through, plummeting into a sudden vacuous pocket deep beneath the surface. Her eyes widened with shock, and she flailed to catch herself.

"Ah~! Such a perfect morsel~!"

Her plummet stopped just inches from the cavern floor, but not by her doing--instead, a dozen long, thick tentacles erupted from the wall, wrapping around her and catching her, before lifting her up. Isane's eyes widened with shock as she stared at her 'savior'--a massive tentacled Hollow that began to slowly spill out from the wall. It appeared vaguely humanoid, but with tentacles that coiled together to form arms, tentacles in place of a mouth and beard, and many tentacles making up an almost squid-like lower half.

"O-oh no--th-this is bad!" Isane quivered, trying to break free. Her attempts were only met with laughter from the tentacled horror before her.

"Oh yes~ this is very bad~" the Hollow mocked, floating closer to her as he held her in place. "It has been so long~ so long since I last feasted~ oh, you will be so delicious~"

Isane's eyes widened as she watched the creature approach, his tentacles on his face extending to reach towards hers. "N-no, no--g-get away from--"

Before she could finish her pleas, the Hollow pulled her close and suddenly plunged its tentacles down her throat. The Shinigami woman squealed into the sudden intrusion and flailed, but was otherwise helpless as more of the tentacles began to slither down her throat, around her face, and drew her closer into him.

Despite her situation, as the tentacles thrust down her throat, Isane found herself helplessly begin to moan. The thick members were steadily thrusting back and forth, and the rhythmic motions were making her body fall to ease. Slowly, her struggles began to stop.

"That's it, child~ succumb to your desires~" the Hollow almost seemed to purr, and his voice resonated almost hypnotically through Isane's mind. Tentacles rose to her uniform, tugging it off of her and leaving her curvaceous form nude before him. "Lose yourself~ and become one with the pleasure of being consumed~"

Isane moaned again as the tentacles began to swirl around her form, wrapping around her breasts, curling around her legs and up to her pussy and ass. She felt the ones on her head slowly rise to brush her ears--they shouldn't go there, she thought, but she couldn't summon the will to resist. They slowly slithered into her ears, and into her head, and into her brain--and without warning, she suddenly climaxed.

And her mind felt a bit more empty.

"So delicious~" the Hollow purred--the tentacles in her head suddenly thrust hard, and she jerked in his embrace, squealing into the tentacles thrusting down her throat. "Such a sharp, rich mind~ I could feast on you for a century and not be bored~!"

The tentacles shoved into her again, and she quivered as she felt them coil around her brain, slithering between the folds. Her body jerked as another climax rushed through her, and suddenly tentacles plunged into her pussy and ass, fucking her there as well. Her moans grew louder into the tentacles fucking her throat, and her tongue began to swirl around them, almost passionately making out with them.

"Yes~" the Hollow chuckled, and its lower body fully coiled around hers, the tentacles appearing to consume her as more thrust hard up into her. Slowly, it began to drift back to the wall, the tentacles that made up its nest reaching out for it. "Lose yourself, Isane Kotetsu~ you are no Shinigami~ you are your master's eager cattle~"

Yes, Master~ Isane moaned, her body flexing and jerking as she climaxed around the tentacles fucking her. She could feel a larger, thicker tentacle slamming into her womb--the bulbous head forced itself into her, and she could feel it assaulting her ovaries now, forcing them into production. Her mind was filled with images of her master feeding on her as he bred her, then of her 'children' feeding at her breasts.

She felt a rush of excitement at the thought, and climaxed again.

The Hollow chuckled as the thoughts played through his prey's mind, and slowly his tentacles surrounded her, forming almost a cocoon to hold her in place. His body slowly submerged with the wall, pulling her along with him as he returned to his nest. He felt her writhe into him, and his tentacled arms pulled her in close, a pair of human lips finally meeting hers as the face beneath the mask found purchase.

Isane moaned with delight, her last thought one of joy at being embraced by her new master before blissful emptiness took her mind forever.

She was never seen again.

[greeneyedsigma]

Imagine this! Law and Penguin finally have a baby and its a girl (Law cried when she was born). She has black hair, Law's golden eyes and Penguin's sharp teeth. Law couldn't be happier … that is until one day one of Kid and Luffy's sons (gremlins) ends up with a crush on his daughter, since she's the cute girl with cool teeth and doesn't mind mud!

Law watches in horror at the situation, Luffy excited at the prospect of being family, Kid wonders why of all people his son specifically chooses Trafalgar's daughter and Penguin just thinks it's hilarious but comforts Law. I have a feeling Law and Penguin would have a few kids (not as many as Luffy and Kid) but a fair few. What do you think?

Law started having nightmares when they found out Penguin was pregnant. A pervasive fear that, horror of horrors, his child would be interacting with Luffy and Kid’s goblins. Let alone the fear that any daughter they had could end up being persued by one of said goblins.

He knew any daughter they had would be adorable as hell and that the Goblins would be hard-pressed to resist.

Luffy and Kid keep popping kids out like its nothing. And for real, given the elasticity of Luffy’s body, it is probably nothing to her. She just stretches and bounces back once giving birth. What did I say they had (I don’t want to go digging through my posts 😭) , six/seven boys and two girls?

Law and Penguin might have three. All little girls; all dark-haired, all golden-eyed, and all sharp-toothed. Law fears. Penguin tells him he’s being stupid, ignoring the fact that the girls might not even be into boys; there’s not guaranteeing the Goblins will be interested.

But Law knows. And he fears.

Edit: found it

https://greeneyedsigma.tumblr.com/post/673653767232684032/after-becoming-king-of-the-pirates-and-a-yonko