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specshroom · 5 months

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•The Queen of Curses•

Part 1 / Part 2

(Ok So think of this as like a Sukuna wins and everyone dies AU lol. True form! Sukuna. Added the cursed blood bath for no reason. Suggestive, titty stuff but that's it, MDNI, She/her reader, no use of Y/N)

Sukuna didn't rein over the Heian Era alone. It was always him and his lover, burning and slaughtering together. Their love for eachother was well known across the land. People knew not to be fooled by her less intimidating looks (in comparison to her husband) for she was just as brutal and heartless as he.

All that changed when sorcerers from the era used all they're combined might to seal the Curse Queen inside a small cursed object, formed only from the combined sacrificed corpses of their comrades.

They knew that the only way to defeat the King and Queen was to separate them and they succeeded. After hearing of the fate of his lover Sukuna flew into a blind rage leading to his own defeat at the hands of the same sorcerers.

One thousand years of relative peace passed with the two lovers separated but still yearning for each other.

Luckily for the lovers, the ever devoted Uraume never stopped looking for a way to set their masters free. After centuries of searching and begrudgingly accepting a little help from Kenjaku, they finally found the cursed object that their Queen had been trapped in, a simple orb a little bigger than a tennis ball. It made Uraume's stomach turn thinking of such a powerful force being shoved into such a small thing. They carried the black orb with them everywhere while continuing the plot to releasing Sukuna. They found themselves whispering to it, compelled by the obsidian globe. They didn't know if their master could hear but they felt like it was right, like they could almost sense their masters overwhelming aura, compelling them to spill out everything they know. So Uraume spoke to it quite a lot, telling the dark orb and the beast inside about Sukuna's fate, about the new world, about Kenjaku and the plan to free her and her lover.

The plan that finally comes to fruition. Sukuna is freed, his true form is restored in all its glory and hes wreaked havoc on most of Shibuya just as a warm up. Uraume kneels before him.

"Master Sukuna."

They say bowing their head.

"Hmm?"

Sukuna hums an acknowledgement, eyeing them with contempt.

Uraume brings the dark crystal like ball out of their loose robes and holds it up, presenting it to their king. "Now, with your power fully restored we can release the Queen from her containment."

Sukuna stares at the ball in the sorcerers hand and gestures for Uraume to give it to him. He holds it as gently as his colossal hand is able to. It seems to get hotter in his hand, so hot it would surely sear the skin of a mortal. He pears into the orb only seeing his reflection in it, the Curse king nods to Uraume. He places it on the ground and they both step back, arms reaching out towards the orb on the ground.

In unison they both let out powerful blasts of cursed energy aiming right at the cursed seal. Strong streams of power, one white hot and the other pearcing cold, the orb starts to crack emitting a glowing white light. "It's breaking! Don't stop!" Sukuna orders and Uraume grunts but dutifully follows orders. The cracks grow wider and the light shines brighter before it's too blinding and they both cover their eyes as a powerful blast pierces the air.

In the settling dust stands a figure that's all too familiar to the both of them. They both watch as the figure shifts, leaning back and stretching their arms above their head, releasing a groan that is appropriate for someone who hasn't been able to move much in a thousand years. When the woman finally turns to Sukuna she sighs and smiles, letting out a relieved huff. Sukuna grins triumphantly and opens all four of his arms expecting a tide of thankful affection from his lover. When she takes the first few steps towards him her smile starts to waver until it's down to a grimace. Sukuna tenses as her eyes darken. He opens his mouth to ask what's the matter as she walks up to him and-

*SLAP*

Silence envelops the already desolate atmosphere. Sukuna's head is turned to the side, his eyes wide. He blinks before glaring at the offender with a look that could kill. She stares up at him with eyes just as deadly.

"HOW COULD YOU LEAVE ME IN THAT FUCKING BALL FOR SO LONG!!?"

Sukuna stares with his mouth open for a second genuinely shocked into silence until that second is over and he responds with equal vitriol.

" HUH?! THAT WAS YOUR OWN FAULT WOMEN! DONT BE UNGRATEFUL!"

The two fiery curses glare at each other with such violent intent, the very air around them heats up.

"WHAT KIND OF SHITTY HUSBAND ALLOWS HIS OWN WIFE TO GET SEALED!"

"YOU CAN'T BLAME ME FOR THAT! DIDN'T I JUST SET YOU FREE?"

"DONT TAKE ALL THE CREDIT YOU BASTARD! URAUME'S THE ONE WHO-"

As if the women just remembered that the other sorcerer exists, she turns around and there her loyal subject is, kneeling in her presence.

" Welcome back master, it's good to see you"

The woman's face brightens up immediately, "Uraume~" She sings running up to the sorcerer and lifting them into a bone crushing hug that would've killed a lesser being. "Oh, Thank you Uraume. My dutiful subject, you did so good." The Curse Queen coos at the sorcerer, squishing their face into her chest and stroking their duel coloured hair. Uraume doesn't hug back as to be respectful of their superior but they don't push back either, just letting their master man-handle (woman-handle?) them.

Sukuna clicks his tongue at the show of affection and crosses two of his massive arms over his chest. No doubt in disbelief that HIS wife doesn't embrace HIM first after a thousand years spent apart.

The wife in question turns to him with Uraume still in her arms, an irritated look on her face.

"What's your problem?"

"My problem is that MY wife is being an ungrateful bitch."

The benevolent woman stills and Uraume peers up at her from their place, nestled into the cleavage of her loose fitting kimono. The woman sets Uraume down onto the ground gently. She breathes a heavy sigh and in less that a second she's on Sukuna throwing a mass of red hot cursed energy right into his face. He blocks it in time and is able to keep blocking her continuous fast attacks. She gets frustrated and lets out a powerful blast that shakes the earth and forces him to jump back to avoid the blast.

She laughs with relief, finally being able to let out all that pent up cursed energy feels amazing. Her tattoos (similar to Sukuna's but not quite the same) almost seem to glow with the immense energy output being let off from her body. Only the tattoos on her face, neck and wrists are visible but Sukuna knows very well what the rest looks like, having traced every inch of ink with his fingers.

Sukuna takes the opportunity while she's distracted by the pure euphoria of letting her energy loose and comes barreling towards her, she can't react before he tackles her to the ground. He pins her hands down with two of his hands and another goes to roughly grab her jaw.

"Does it feel good to finally let off some steam, Baby?"

The king of curses teasingly remarks from above her.

"Baby? That's new." She questions with a teasing grin. Her words are a bit slurred from the way her husband is holding her jaw.

"Might as well get with the times." He bites back with an even more cocksure grin. She scratches and kicks at him and bites at his hand. With all her concentration she channels the sheer amount of pent up cursed energy in her body and lets it burst out in a deafening blast that knocks Sukuna off of her. Static reverberates in the air.

In the few seconds it takes for him to recover she takes the opportunity to pounce on him pinning him to the ground. Grinning from her place above him her heavy breaths and beating heart match his. Her crazy, alert eyes meet four others with the same sentiment.

"I missed you so fucking much." Sukuna says before he pulls her by her robes into a deep kiss. The kiss is somehow aggressive and sensual.

Two of Sukuna's massive hands go to her waist and thigh holding her body to his as he sits up. The third hand is on the floor for balance and the last is tangled in her hair pressing her further into the kiss, as if that's even possible. Both Cursed beings are glad that they don't need to breath or else they surely would have suffocated each other by now.

The queen of curses has never been more pleased by the fact that her husband doesn't seem to know what a shirt is. Sukuna has voiced many times that he wished his wife shared the same sentiments only for her to scoff at the suggestion, although, now she thinks the idea is one of the best he's ever had.

They fight for dominance with their tongues. Still locked in the passionate sloppy kiss the woman unlatches her hands from his hair to slip off the robes she was wearing over a loose fitting kimono. She unwraps the black accented white Kimono, rather slowly in sukunas opinion to let her breasts fall free to the warm air.

Sukuna releases his mouth from hers, licking his spit slicked lips to stare down at his beautiful wife's beautiful tits.

"Yeah, remember these are mine. Only mine." Sukuna grumbles lowly before smooshing his face right between them, sighing deeply like a thousand year old itch has finally been scratched.

"Aww, is Ryō a little jealous?" The woman preens in a patronising manner while lightly stroking his fluffy hair.

"Poor baby~" She coos, repeating the pet name he used for her. Her teasing only gets a glare and a growl from the beast of a man currently buried in her tits, holding her impossibly closer to his face.

She chuckles down at him, a loving yet menacing look in her eyes.

"Well maybe I should let Uraume- where did they go?"

She looks around the scorched city landscape looking for her white haired subordinate and as if they heard her words summoning them they appear with a respectful bow.

"I have made the preparations for your bath."

"Thank you, Uraume~"

The woman beams and turns to the man who is still occupied with her tits, he's now picked a tit to suckle on, fondling the other in his rough hand.

"come now Ryo, it's time for our bath." She says curtly and the man groans with his mouth full, absolutely dreading even the idea of his tongue leaving the hardened nipple he's been sucking on. If the two objects poking her ass are any indication if it was up to him they would never get to the blood bath Uraume so kindly set up for them.

She tries standing up and pulling away but the man is latched on tightly, all four arms clutching around her as if they never want to be an inch apart from her again. The more she struggles the bigger the two chubs in his pants grow. She sighs and struggles once more.

"Uraume planned this out very nicely for us, Ryomen. Just do what I say Damnit!"

She pulls at his hair and he bites down on her tit in response, earning a yelp and a harsh smack on the head from her. He laughs, not with the mouth on her tit but with the mouth on his stomach. She peers down at it, as if she just remembered it's there. Without wasting more time she grabs the large tongue crushing it with her grip and tugging on it hard.

Sukuna releases her tit to yell out in pain.

"OW, WOMAN! You should be grateful for every ounce of attention I give you! OW!"

As Sukuna rages, she snorts and jumps out of his now loosened arms. Turning her back to him, she approaches the other sorcerer who's head is still bowed.

"Uraume, would you kindly show me to my bath?"

"Of course, Master"

Uraume stands and bows their head. Holding out their arm for their Queen.

She holds onto Uraume's arm, purposely squishing her still exposed breasts into the sorcerer's side as she smiles down at them.

"I guess we'll have the bath all to ourselves then, Uraume~"

Uraume closes their eyes with a knowing smile and nods in response, very accustomed to the games the two lovers would play with each other, often forcing them right in the middle. Their Queen would often promise that she'd one day make Uraume flustered, something that to this day has yet to occur.

The sorcerer doesn't even flinch at their powerful master fawning over them, stroking their arm and pressing her now marked up tits closer into them as the two walk off towards the bath Uraume prepared.

"HEY!! WHAT THE HELL!?? URAUME!"

Sukuna sits in disbelief at his wife's antics. As if he's only now remembering what a tease she is and has always been.

His wife looks back at him over her shoulder, she shrugs her kimono off her shoulder, exposing her tattooed shoulder to him before turning back to Uraume snickering.

Sukuna huffs and grins, shaking his head. He's so fucking happy to have his wife back.

(AN: I was originally planning to make this smut but... It just got away from me😭😭 sooo... Maybe in a part two? 👀👀)

#this art of Sukuna will live in my head forever now btw #Uraume my beloved #jjk x reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna scenarios #jjk smut #jjk sukuna #true form sukuna #uraume #uraume x reader

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obsessivevoidkitten · 5 months

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Heroes To Villains

DILF Yandere Superheroes x Gender Neutral Superhero Reader CW: Noncon, imprisonment, minor violence, gratuitous amount of firearms, super powers, super soldiers, spitroasting, general yandere behavior, bratty reader Word Count: 3.8k (I am sorry this took a bit for me to get to, only took a few hours to write though. I hope you guys love it. Feel free to tip if you do~)

The city you were stationed in was under attack by some fairly destructive super villains. They were either traitors born of the same government program that had produced you and the other super soldiers you worked with or they were sent by another country to attack the retired super agents of your country. Though it was also possible they were a rogue foreigner with a vendetta. All the people making up your squad had been in the military and had made significant enemies.

Their goals did not really matter so much at the moment. It was more important that they were defeated before they caused any casualties.

There were two of them. One of them with an ability to lash out with streams of fire and smoke and another that could jump up really fast and high before slamming down and causing a large explosion on impact.

They were no match for you and your comrades. Red and Ace had handled much worse threats than these two with ease. Ace had been a top pilot before undergoing medical experimentation that left him with angel-like wings and the ability to shoot energy blasts from his hands. The man was like a living B-52. And Red was basically a human tank. Very little could so much as scratch his skin and he had tremendous physical strength.

Both of them had soared through the ranks and had distinguished themselves as competent generals in the last great war. Now they were retired and used their abilities as super soldiers to become heroes and protect the capital from the strange threats that had been unleashed during war time. Mostly the occasional villain. Sometimes a mutant animal.

You had just been a simple medic. Nothing too fancy, but you had hesitantly taken the opportunity to go through experiments that would allow you to heal others much more effectively and without the need for invasive surgery. Most of the super soldiers gained a unique ability and also became more resilient to damage and agile.

And you had gotten those perks too, but not to the degree as everyone else. Though you had gotten an extra ability that most people lacked. Hyper accurate aim with long distance weapons. But you also suffered a drawback when compared to your peers. You got exhausted easily, having very little stamina.

Who could forget the time you had saved the city by firing the railroad gun at the giant robot that used mutated biological components in its construction? Firing a 19,000 pound shell and obliterating an entire giant robot with one perfectly executed shot had been amazing.

You longed for that kind of usefulness again. But currently you were a bit bored, as a long range support unit you frequently hung back a bit. Red and Ace normally cleared everything up themselves without having need of your abilities.

Ace had plucked the hopper from the sky and injected him with a serum that would knock him out cold until he could be taken into custody where his abilities would be removed completely, if they could be. Red had similarly taken out the fire user who had discovered that his searing flames did little more than make Red sweat a bit.

They regrouped together before they started walking back to you, each carrying the limp weight of an unconscious enemy on their shoulders. It would be a few minutes before they got to the rendezvous.

You heard the gruff voice of Red on your comm line.

“We got em’ On our way back now.”

“Affirma-”

You were cut off by a sudden shift underground followed by a woman jumping up from the earth below you and punching you hard enough to launch you several feet.

There had been a third and they had split up to take you on individually.

As you fell through the air you took out your side arm and fired every round in rapid succession. Each one aimed for her heart. Each one hit their mark. But when you hit the ground you had smacked your head pretty hard and the world faded to black.

You woke up in a medical bed in the basement of your headquarters. You were quite dizzy and you felt like you were certainly going to vomit.

You held your hands to your head and your palms flashed.

Much better. If you hadn’t been knocked out you would have simply been able to heal whatever injuries you had sustained in a flash. Oh well you were better now.

Ace walked in to check on you right as you had been getting up. He burst into a smile at seeing you awake. His blue eyes full of joy.

“Hey runt! Glad to see that you’re getting up and about!”

“Who’s a runt!?”

He flexed his biceps to drive the point in.

“Red, get in here, The runt is up!”

You heard his loud steps reverberate upstairs as he bounded towards the basement door and came rushing down.

“It’s been five days, we were beginning to really worry about you, squirt.”

He was smiling but you could tell his red eyes held a lot of concern in them. It seemed like there was something he wanted to say but didn’t know how.

“Well, no need to worry. I am not as fragile as a regular person. And I am fully healed now.”

“Yeah… but you weren’t hit by a normal person. And you aren’t as durable as most of us…”

That was Ace.

“Yeah, yeah, I will be more careful, okay? I know my limits. I don’t need a lecture. I took the enemy down and I am okay now so we don’t need to linger on it.”

Ace put his hand to his face and his wings quivered in annoyance as they often do when he tries to lecture you and you just won’t have it.

You rolled your eyes and finally Red spoke up.

“This isn’t the first time you have gotten hurt on the field. Even with precautions like staying back you still end up injured!”

“What’s your point? It's a battle, injuries happen. At least I can heal.”

Ugh, an Ace lecture you were used to. You didn’t need both of them nagging at you.

You rolled your eyes as Red continued.

“Have you ever considered… going into another career? You volunteer at the hospital… maybe you could do that full time?”

That did it.

“Excuse me? I wasn’t in any command position, but I was a trained soldier all the same! I think I can handle myself!”

You stormed away from them and went up the stairs, slamming the door behind you. Assholes. Who were they to tell you what you should consider doing? It was your life and if you wanted to use it fighting genetically enhanced monsters and super-criminals then that was your right to do so.

It would become evident in the future that this incident was where everything started to go wrong. Going forward in battle they always had at least one of them at your side whenever it was physically possible for them to do so.

When you were eventually still injured even with that precaution, even though it was minor, they pressured you again to quit being a hero. They thought maybe you just were too attached to them to leave so they even suggested that you could still be their medic but you would stay on at the base. You could even still operate the railroad rifle that could fire shells from miles away whenever a large foe approached the city.

But you wouldn’t have it. Fuck them. You told them that if you had to form a new squad in a new city then you would do so.

They frantically apologized immediately so they let it go.

It was unfathomable that they would ever allow you to do such a thing. Go off where they couldn’t protect you even a little? Where some inexperienced whelp of a leader would surely get you killed? Not a chance!

But neither could they allow you to remain a front line combatant. Not after the injuries and not with how easily you became fatigued when exerting yourself.

The solution was ugly, but it was what it was. You left them no other option for your own safety.

Though it would make them criminals themselves they had to do it for your own good. They had to keep you here with them where you would be safe and secure. They could turn the base’s AI defenses to keep you here and make sure that you were safe. They could also have it alert them through their comms if you there was any trouble while they were on a mission.

You were laying on your bed with your hands behind your head. You stared at your ceiling and contemplated all that you had been through. The war, seeing comrades on the battlefield ripped apart with no way to save them as they bled out in agony. You had to protect people from that in every way that you could, and if you did die on the battlefield then that was fine by you.

The intrusion of Red and Ace barging into your room out of nowhere pulled you from your thoughts and you regarded them both with a scowl.

“What NOW!? Can’t you guys at least knock? I mean seriousl-”

Ace cut you off with a hand gesture for silence before Red spoke up.

“Listen squirt… we decided something. We can’t allow you to join us on the field anymore…”

“Didn’t you just apologize for saying that after I threatened to leave? Whatever, I am out of here!”

You hopped up to gather your belongings and set out at once, the mere sight of the two heroes making you want to go on a rampage, but Red pushed you back onto the bed, then Ace picked up where Red had left off.

“Well that’s not all, runt. We also decided… you can’t leave here either…”

You started laughing. It had to be some kind of joke. But the tension that filled the room told you otherwise. You looked from Red to Ace and the empty expression from Ace and the guilty one from Red told you that they were deadly serious.

You grabbed your sidearm and launched yourself at Ace, you weaved past Red and twirled yo get behind Ace and held your arm around his neck with your gun aimed at his head. You didn’t speak a word, your intention clear.

There was no way you would be kept here.

You couldn’t go for Red as small arms fire would bounce off of him, but at point blank range Ace was toast. You backed out of the room, pulling Ace along with you. He cooperated fully. Even a pair of overprotective psychos didn’t want their brains blown out.

Out of nowhere a robotic arm emerged from one of the sockets in the walls. It seized your gun and then Ace flipped your positions with him behind you.

They had reprogrammed the defenses of the base to not allow you to have a weapon. These two were not former generals for nothing. They knew how their adversary, you, would react.

You slammed your foot down on Ace’s and smacked your head behind him to hit his nose. Such weak attacks did nothing to dislodge you from his ironclad grasp.

“Stop this childish behavior and just accept things. This is for your own good. If anything this little outburst has proven that you need to be protected because you certainly cannot control your emotions!”

Red was in front of you, still looking at you with that guilty expression.

“I’ll go get your weapons from your room.”

Ace and you watched in the doorway as Red got a sack and rummaged through every single inch of your private space to look for what was now contraband.

“Come on! If you are going to keep me here at least don’t go invading my privacy like this!”

Much to your embarrassment you actually cried a bit as the large man went through all your things.

He started by removing your pistols from your weapon’s display case. Your Beretta M9, your SIG Sauer P320, you… dear god no… not your baby, not your Magnum Research BFR!

You thrashed more as you saw him take that one.

Then he moved on to your bookshelf. He took out your religious text from the shelf.

“Hey, keep your grubby mitts off of that! It’s sacred!”

“Yeah, Red, don’t you think you should focus o-”

He opened it revealing that it had been cut out and housed one of your many sidearms.

“Of course,” Ace said flatly.

When Red finished with all your pistols he moved on to the ones mounted on your wall. Your Mauser M 98, your Browning BLR, and your little Marlin 70PSS.

The rest of the search was much the same. All but one had been found. Red had to get a second bag for them all. The ones in your desk, under your bed, and the one in your mattress.

Well at least they hadn’t found your most precious gun-child…

“Okay I think I got them all. Nowhere else to search. Be truthful, did I miss any?”

You wiped the tears out of your eyes and lied convincingly. You tried to look as defeated as you could.

“No”

Ace moved the two of you out of the way so Red could take your weaponry to the armory. As he started to leave the room he noticed his footsteps sounded odd in one place.

He pressed his large foot down in the spot a few times, narrowing his eyes.

Fuck.

He bent down and realized he could remove the floor board under the rug in that spot.

He found it, the bag unzipped and your M1 Garand joined the rest of your firearms.

“NOOOO!!! That one is my favorite! It PINGS when you use it!”

Now you were truly defeated, they had gotten every single one of them…

“Holy fuck, how many did you need??”

Ace joined in.

“Yeah that’s all a bit… much…”

“If your only offensive power came from guns then you would make sure to have one near you at all times in case of infiltration or emergencies…”

Ace sighed and let you return to your bed in peace. Or what peace could be had in your glorified prison.

Later in the evening they knocked on your door.

“Hey, we made your favorite food for dinner! And made your favorite dessert too…”

That was Red, you could hear the nervousness in his voice. He knew you would hate him now. You ignored them.

“Come on, don't be like this, you have to eat!”

And that was Ace, insisting that not complying with his psychopathic behavior was childish.

You opened the door and took the food tray. Both of them smiled.

“There, see? We can all still get along. We worked very hard on that meal for you!”

You were sure that they had, they were both skilled cooks. You stared at them expressionless and slammed the tray into their faces before slamming the door.

Ace looked furious but Red held him back.

“Come on Ace… they just need to adjust…”

But you refused to adjust. You ate only when they were out of the house. As the days went by you didn’t speak a single solitary word to either of them, you may as well have been a ghost.

Well… it would have been. Had you not been doing your best to make them the two most miserable men on the planet. You destroyed all the toilet paper, clogging every toilet in the base with it, you destroyed the fridge twice, you broke the TV, tore the couch, the robotic arms stopped you, of course, but you could manage to do a bit of damage each time before it stopped you.

Even Red was getting annoyed with your behavior.

They had both tried everything to get you to behave. Punishments ranging from not eating anything but flavorless oatmeal for days to being forced to sleep in a bed with one of them so they could make sure you didn’t cause any destruction while they slept.

Finally they had had enough, things could not continue on like this and it seemed like you may never open your eyes and see that they were just trying to keep you safe. Without them you’d have ran right into the jaws of danger.

They discussed it among themselves and had one more idea. You needed to feel loved in every possible way. They loved you so much after all, that’s what all this had been about, to protect you because they cared for you. But clearly they needed to step things up a notch or ten.

When they came home that day they barged into your room and grabbed you, taking you kicking and screaming into one of the many spare rooms the base had.

They had outfitted it with a huge bed, the walls painted your favorite color, fresh roses filled a heart shaped vase on the nightstand.

“Let go of me! What did you drag me here just to give me a newer bigger room? A prison is still a prison…”

“It’s going to be…” Red started.

“Our love… nest…” Ace finished, blush evident on his face.

“No thanks. Fucking weirdos.”

“Come on, sex is known to alleviate one’s mood!”

“Yeah, just give it a chance”

Ace smashed his lips into yours and kissed you deeply, you looked at him stunned.

They were serious… You wanted to wretch… Fervently you struggled, trying to get out of Red’s grip but he handed you off to Ace who wrapped his wing around you and led you to the bed.

They took your clothing off before moving on to your own. All of you had scars due to combat and training, and you had seen them nude in the showers before, but this was different. For the first time you felt vulnerable and scared under their combined gaze.

You covered your genitals but they each removed and held one arm so they could appreciate the view. “Come on, don’t be like that. Nothing we haven’t seen before,” Ace whispered as he spread your legs apart.

“Red, did you bring the lube?”

“Yeah, right here.”

Red opened a bottle and lathered both of their growing cocks so that they were drenched with the stuff and then pressed some to your hole and massaged it in. They had no intention of letting this be a painful experience for you. They wanted to show how much they cared about you.

You tried to clench. To close yourself off from them. But the probing fingers would not be denied. You squirmed uncomfortably at the sensation of cold lube being worked into you.

“Try to relax, it will be much better if you embrace us.”

“FUCK YO-”

Red cut you off with a kiss. You tried to bite his tongue but his tongue was no more vulnerable than the rest of his body.

Two sets of hand roamed and pet, and groped your body. Gently caressing you as Red made out with you. When they felt as if they had explored every part of your body they flipped you on to your belly, with Red on his knees in front of you. His crotch level with your face.

Ace was behind you on his knees between your legs, holding them still as he wedged himself closer to your entrance, until the tip of his cock was kissing it.

You couldn’t kick because he had control of your legs. You couldn’t punch because Red had your arms pinned. Now they just had to plug your bratty mouth and you wouldn’t have any means of protest. Verbal or otherwise.

They knew you’d try to bite so Red took your mouth, claiming it with his cock. You tried to move and turn away but once Ace sank his cock into your sensitive depths you gasped in surprise so Red took the chance to put his cock in your soft mouth. He did not go in balls deep, neither of them had yet. They wanted you to enjoy it. To relax. Not worry about being hurt or gagged.

Red humped into your mouth carefully and slowly while Ace did the same behind you.

“Damn, for someone so opposed to it you fit me so well.”

Then Ace added, “Your mouth feels amazing babe. He used his thumb to draw lazy circles into your arms where he held them down. He sighed in pleasure when he felt the pleasured moans Ace was coaxing out of you. Much to your dismay.

But you couldn’t deny that it felt nice. Your body relaxed, just a bit, as the men slowly bred a bit of the stress you had been under out of it.

Now that it seemed that you were enjoying yourself, even though reluctantly, Ace decided he could speed up just a bit, rolling his hips as his cock dug further into you.

Red was going a bit faster too now that you had acclimated and stopped trying to resist so hard. He let your arms go, sure that you had finally realized how silly fighting was. The large man stroked your cheek as he continued thrusting into those sweet lips.

Ace was the first to cum, his wings outstretching fully and deep voice gasping as his large nuts filled you with wave after wave of his seed. His large cock twitched inside of you, pushing you over the edge and into your own orgasm.

Feeling all your muffled cries of pleasure right in his prick caused Red to start cumming. He pulled out, not wanting to choke you on his copious amount of semen that he knew all super soldiers produced in spades, instead cumming all over your face.

Ace pulled out of you and was the first to speak.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You didn’t respond, you were still panting from the workout you had just received. You didn’t protest when Ace pulled you into his lap and held you with your head nestled into his chest. Your head laying right on his hawk tattoo. You didn’t protest when red scooted beside him and kissed you tenderly on the forehead. You even let them clean you up and feed you your favorite meal that they diligently cooked for you while you waited politely on the couch. They figured your resistance to them before was just because you had needs that weren’t getting met.

And from that day forward they knew that anytime you got too snarky or rebellious all they had to do was make time to fuck the brattiness out of you.

#yandere x reader #yandere boyfriends #male yanderes x reader #yandere men #yandere #yandere superheroes #gender neutral reader #male yanderes x gender neutral reader #My OCs #My OC Red #My OC Ace #Military Yandere

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nikibogwater · 8 months

Text

Link becoming certified as a Yiga Blademaster is legitimately the funniest thing to ever happen in a Zelda game, like it's not even a competition at this point. He's singlehandedly responsible for foiling every single one of their plans. He's the guy who pats a sobbing Kohga on the back and assures him that they'll get Link for sure next time. All the footsoldiers love him because he brings them Get Well Soon Bananas after a failed attempt on Link's life lands them in the infirmary. He staggers into the hideout one afternoon, beaten half-to-death from a surprise encounter with a Stone Talus, and tells the Clan that he was attacked by the Hero. They storm across Hyrule in a rage, seeking vengeance for their fallen comrade. Meanwhile Link has a nice long soak in the breakroom's hotspring and listens to Kohga furiously scheming 12 new ways to finally kill that blasted Hero.

#legend of zelda #tears of the kingdom #loz totk

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tiredneutron · 8 months

Text

Terrans

Humanity.

Listen well, for this is a tale of warning and of caution.

When humanity was first observed, many of the council thought they should be eradicated. A tumultuous and violent species who revelled in the destruction of their own kind. It was a close thing, but the council voted and humanity was allowed to develop - under the condition that none were to contact them until they were deemed ready.

Humanity never gave us the chance to do so.

They progressed their technology in timeframes yet unseen. They went from discovering electricity to landing on their own moon in a matter of decades - doing so with primitive technology, but it was a feat nonetheless.

From there they developed their own world - the space around their home planet Terra became a field of haphazard signals and messages, a bombardment of signals that interfered with our observational machinery. Due to this we weren’t ready when humanity ventured into the stars truly for the first time. They blasted themselves out of their atmosphere with controlled explosions of all things, their technology was nowhere near discovering antimatter coupling yet. Despite this they reached the edge of the quarantine zone within a matter of years, and we were discovered.

Despite our initial thoughts, humanity reacted very differently to us than expected. They didn’t wage wars on us, didn’t lay claim to our planets. They met us with unrestrained joy at finding others in the universe. They told us of their numerous attempts to reach out to us, and showed us some of their works of fiction that depicted how they imagined us (though they seemed to hide some others for reasons we couldn’t ascertain).

Humanity was welcomed into the stars, and they became commonplace. Their biology was baffling and their behaviour bizarre, but we accommodated them and they taught us how to work with them.

Centuries passed, and though the initial explorers were long gone, humanity had become a part of the council as low ranking members. Their species had become mostly peaceful, lowering their internal wars to less than skirmishes. Humanity’s violent and cruel nature seemed to have been tempered by the stars.

We were wrong.

From beyond the councils borders, beyond the observable space in the void, a threat appeared. They blasted through our sensors and demolished our border colonies in hours. Our intel on them was near zero due to the ferocity they annihilated our kin.

They reached the inner borders of the council, and the elder members prepared for a bitter battle. To our surprise, humanity asked to join the defence. They told us that their kin had settled on some of the border colonies, and that many had lost loved ones. We allowed humanity to join our last fight, even if we didn’t expect them to affect the battle.

We were wrong.

Many of my comrades who survived the battle have sleep terrors to this day. Not of the void settlers, but of the humans. The cruelty and viciousness we thought had disappeared from their culture came back with a vengeance. Who we had seen as scientists and farmers for centuries, comrades we had known for decades - they showed us that monsters don’t come from the void.

The void settlers never stood a chance. The council was barely able to get in formation before the battle was ended. If the void bringers tactics were ferocious, then the Terran’s were monstrous. For every ship they lost, every life they sacrificed, the void settlers lost a battalion, a planet’s worth of lives.

This loss brought the void settlers much shame and anger. They made a mistake that haunts me to this day. They used their speed to reach Terra before the council could relay to the humans the threat. Humanity watched as Terra split, as trillions of their families and non-fighting members were eradicated.

The fighting ceased. Humanity seemed to have frozen. Their fleets stopped dead in space and their communications went silent. Where humanity had been surrounded by wavelengths and frequencies that interfered with some technology still, the space around them became eerily silent, as though the death of the planet had killed even those off world.

The void settlers continued their attack on the council and disregarded Humanity. No need to worry about a broken opponent… Right?

They were wrong.

The Terran’s weren’t dead, or even broken. It was later revealed that the freeze had been due to grief. Humanity had lost its home world, but worse than that it had lost its peaceable citizens. The ones who should have been safe from the conflict.

All of humanity had watched, and all of humanity had grieved. But they were not broken.

The void settlers learnt this very soon.

Humanity descended on them in ways that made the last defence seem like a diplomatic discussion. We though we had seen the worst of humanity in our early observations. WE. WERE. WRONG.

Humanity has a saying “Hell hath no wrath like a woman scorned”, but the council has adapted it: “The void hath no wrath like a Terran without a home”.

The void settlers were routed from every planet they had taken. They retreated to the void leaving behind their technology and supplies, not even taking the time to recover some of their teams. But the humans didn’t stop.

In a move that the council had forbidden for millennia, the humans flew into the void. The entirety of the Terran race disappeared into the blackness beyond space and wasn’t heard from for longer than we had known of them.

The council mourned their losses, but viewed their final act as something done out of the madness of their loss. The Terran’s were remembered as warriors, as fighters, but also as family. They became known to those of us who’d seen them fight as “The angels of Death”.

I never expected to see a Terran again, assumed that the void had devoured them and their destructive grief with them. But one day a vessel I was onboard, tasked with assessing possible colonies to rebuild in the border planets - it detected something.

The frequencies and wavelengths of data that had only ever been human in nature. They were coming from the void.

The council watched as humanity emerged unexpected for the second time.

The flagship docked with our observation vessel, and the leaders came aboard to see us. I vaguely recognised the captain. Their features so slightly similar to the grief driven warrior we’d watched descend into the void. We asked what had happened, and the captain responded with the most chilling visage I had seen since the first footage of the void settlers. Their baring of their teeth was savage and joyous. So similar to the expression we saw at first meeting, yet so distorted. In that moment I saw what could have happened if the Terran’s had waged war on us.

“We won.”

#humans are space orcs #space australia

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sprout-fics · 11 months

Note

Reader gets blasted with a sex pollen and is dragged back to base and Konig takes orders from Price with the goal of absolutely demolishing relieving us

Baby's first sex pollen fic let's go-

There’s a huge, sinewy arm wrapped around you as you move. From where, to where, you aren’t sure. The world around you is a rose-colored haze, chiffon and gauzy smoke that obscures your vision, mutes your other senses into nothingness. Your strength seems to fail you with each step, and the massive figure beside you grates in panicked English into the comms as he hauls you up against his side.

“Nein, their heartrate is too fast. They’re almost unresponsive.”

They? Oh. You.

You try to focus on your body, sink down from the foggy, lightheaded miasma that clogs your thoughts. It only summons a sharp whiplash of sensation. Your body feels hot to the touch, skin aflame, heart pounding arrymthically inside your chest, loud enough to deafen your comrade’s next words.

“Soldier, can you hear me?”

You know that voice, yet when you try and reach for it the only thought that comes is the sudden urge to claw off your gear, your clothes- it’s so hot.

A choked, wordless cry bubbles up your throat as you fumble with the fastenings on your tac vest, blindly trying to rid yourself of it. It feels like with every passing moment fever rises hot and vile in your veins, sweat beading across your forehead.

“Soldier?” The voice asks, and when you’re shifted against his side the blood rushes down and you choke on your next whimper as a sudden flush of arousal pulses low through your stomach. Hot, searing, wanting.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright. We’re almost at the safehouse. Stay with me, Schatz.”

A safehouse. Somewhere where you can try and get rid of all these layers, strip down to nothing, try and relieve yourself of the pulsing heat between your legs that makes your knees abruptly fall out from under you.

You sag against him, and the man beside you curses, lifts you up and cradles you against his chest. It’s only then, when his familiar scent fills your nostrils and lights up the recesses of your brain that you recognize him.

“Konig-” You whimper, burying your face in his hood, trying to chase the smell of him. “H-help…”

He makes a noise then, something between want and dismay, and you can’t fully understand it because he’s so cool to the touch, a soothing balm to your burning insides and you want him closer, closer until you’re lost in him.

You don’t know how or when you make it to the safehouse, but the moment you’re laid horizontal you claw at your gear with a series of rapid, heaving gasps. Hands settle on yours and help you divest yourself, carefully setting aside your layers until you’re in nothing but your undershirt and underwear.

“C-captain it’s not helping.” You can hear the note of panic in his voice, the shake in his hands as he lays a soothing palm across your forehead. “A cold shower? The water isn’t running, I-”

A pause.

“Repeat.”

You whine as his touch vanishes from you, try to claw it back. It feels like minutes until Konig finally touches you again, and his palm is bare this time, absent of his gloves. The scent of him floods across your senses, igniting that arousal into a steady, pulsing flame.

“Look at me.” He tells you, and his voice is suddenly clear as you blink through your watery gaze at him, seeing the darks of his eyes caught beneath the shadow of his hood.

“I’m going to help you, Schatz. If…if I don’t you might…might go into cardiac arrest. So please…please don’t hate me after. I’m sorry.”

You don’t care, don’t care, and when Konig’s fingers finally push down with the smallest hint of pressure you shout, back bowing off the bed as your climax rips unexpectedly through you.

“Shhh.” He murmurs into your ear as he gathers you to him, front plastered to your sweaty back. “I’ve got you, little one, I’ve got you.”

You shake as you come down, but it isn’t enough, isn’t nearly enough, and you whine, force a hand into your pants only for his larger palm to settle atop it.

“Do what you have to, Schatz.” He tells you, massive frame curling over you as you work at yourself, gather wetness between your fingertips and circle it at your entrance in preparation for him.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

#thursday night thots #konig x reader #konig x you

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mistyresolve · 17 days

Text

| RTB - Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Pilot Reader

Word Count - 3.4k

Summary - The reader is the pilot, AKA Stitch, of an apache helicopter, one the most dangerous, advanced killers in the sky. She’s been the 141′s go-to when they need aerial support for a year. After their latest mission, Ghost seeks out Stitch to offer a special thank you.

Warnings/Tags - 18+ ONLY, swearing, dry humping, switch, unprotected sex, creampie

A/N - If you haven't already, I would suggest you read Incident Report before this one

Masterlist ❤︎

Soot and smoke coated Ghost’s tongue and every breath felt like an attack on his lungs. The smell of burning flesh and gunpowder made his head spin. All that combined with adrenaline and anger, it was his life support. He clung to his senses with a feverish need. Rubble and bullet shells littered the ground around them. His once-black uniform took on a greyish hue from all the dust. Sweat rolled down his back and he had to blink it from his eyes.

Beside him, Price was on the radio, his outrage tangible as he called for aerial backup for a third time, “I’ve got my men pinned here! Where the fuck is my support!”.

Ghost felt a bullet's heat as it raced past the exposed skin of his neck, leaving behind the ghost of a burn. He ducked down behind the concrete barrier, cursing at himself, “We won’t be able to hold this position for much longer, Price. We need a plan to get us the fuck out of here,” Simon repositioned himself for a better vantage point. Ghost had long since run out of ammo and had resorted to picking up magazines from his dead comrades. He silently thanked every one of them, ripping off the dog tags from the few he could to take back to base with him.

Price gave him a curt nod, “Chopper is five minutes out. They were diverted from another mission.” his face was grim and every muscle in his body was taut, readying to run for new cover or the bite of a bullet. Five minutes was a lot of time in situations like this, a lot could happen in a matter of seconds. He could die in half that.

The team was forced into a corner of the compound, and they were getting hammered. There was nowhere left to go. He kept one eye on the darkening sky beyond the compound's wall, hoping to catch a glimpse of the incoming heli. He figured the pilots on board would have reached out by now, but the radio remained utterly and eerily silent.

He craned his neck, hearing the distant sound of its propellors, but with the ruckus around them, it was difficult to determine exactly how far out it was. Something in his soul urged him to bring his radio to his mouth, “We’re in the southwest corner,” he was speaking to the pilots, who were most likely biding their time before revealing their presence to the enemy. If that were the case they were probably dark, using minimal instruments to keep their profile as discreet as possible.

Then he saw it. The slightly darker patch of sky.

Then it was firing, and screams followed.

And just like that, this fight was shifted in their favour.

Bursts of orange and red as fire erupted from the helicopter's guns in erratic intervals, and in between they would shift positions, making it nearly impossible to predict where they would shoot from next.

Then a very familiar voice came across the radio, “Hello boys.”

An involuntary smile split across Ghost’s face.

“You’re fashionably late,” Price quipped back.

“And here I thought you’d be excited to see us,” you replied as you dipped the heli back behind the walls, using it as cover as you moved closer to the closed gates keeping them from their escape, “Should I knock?”

They didn’t bother with a reply before Dutch let loose, blasting open the gates. You could nearly hear his smile, “Ladies first.”

Being diverted from a different mission meant you didn’t have nearly enough firepower or fuel to do any real damage, but you could do enough so the soldier below would be able to breathe a little and regain their footing.

You glanced down at your fuel gauge, cursing, “We’ve got five minutes of fuel before we’re RTB. Give me some targets,” You couldn’t stop yourself from searching the ground below in hopes of seeing a familiar figure.

Someone pointed a laser at one of the watchtowers, marking it and the people within as prey. You angled the aircraft, giving Dutch a clear view of the tower. With the help of the last HELLFIRE missile you had, it was desecrated in a matter of seconds.

The floodlights that were pointed to the outside of the compound turned on, momentarily blinding you. The enemy used the distraction to shoot back at you. Bullets dinged off the sides of the Apache.

“Smoke!” someone called from over the radio.

“Flares,” your muscle memories kicked in, your thumb finding the appropriate buttons as your eyes still had yet to adjust. Somewhere beyond the cockpit, you heard as your flares interrupt your death. You gritted your teeth, you weren’t sure you had the firepower left to fight this fight, but the thought of leaving those guys down there helpless wasn’t one you were willing to have.

Your attention snagged on the fuel.

You didn’t have a choice. You were already cutting it close.

Dutch listed off what he had left to throw at him. The list was devastatingly short.

“I have one more good run before I have to turn back.”

Another laser pointed to a truck on the other side of the now blown open door, a mounted machine gun giving suppressant fire to the ground crew. With that truck, even with the gate opened, they weren’t going anywhere.

“Copy,” Dutch replied, his head already turned and locking in on the target. He unloaded the last of his rounds into the truck and the surrounding area.

Reluctantly, you pulled back from the fight, “We’re RTB,” again you search for Ghost amongst the group. Finally catching the flash of white of his skull mask. The nerves that gripped your chest loosened, “And as much as I love these play dates with you guys try and stay out of trouble will you?”

You’d arrived back to base a few hours ago but still had yet to change out of your jumpsuit. You were immediately dragged into a debrief. You checked your watch for what seemed like the hundredth time since this meeting began.

Task Force 141 has yet to return, and you were beginning to ruminate. While in the sky it was easier to ignore your feelings, having to focus on not being struck by an anti-air and falling out of the sky didn’t allow for such mundane activities. Now that you were on the ground, you had all the time and safety in the world to just think.

You could say that’s why you loved flying so much. You’d never be able to say it out loud under the fear that you’d be grounded for a month under the mental health act; but, you’d sooner die than give up flying.

Suppressing a yawn you sat next to Dutch in the room, arms crossed and legs stretched out in front of you. Your eyes grew heavy as you blinked up at the screen before you. You leaned closer to Dutch, “You think they’d notice if I just left?”

A mischievous smile tugged at his mouth, “Not if you crawled.”

You pinched his thigh, scowling, “You’re a pervert.”

There were probably twenty other people in this room right now. You could undoubtedly sneak out.

A shiver raced down your spine, and your instinct told you that someone was looking at you. You peeked over your shoulder and locked eyes with the tall ominous figure standing at the back of the room. His hand still hovering over the doorknob. He jerked his chin to the hallway. A silent invitation to join him.

Dutch was already rolling his eyes in pretend irritation, “You’re boyfriend beckons you.”

You made a face at him, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Tell him that.”

You bit your lip to keep from grinning at the idea. You two were by no means together. Not to say that there wasn’t something there that could potentially foster such as relationship, but now wasn’t the right time. Neither of you had the time or the means for it. It would only compromise both of your work.

And relationships between two soldiers were frowned upon by the higher-ups.

You stood up silently, kicking Dutches ankles on your way by.

Ghost slipped out of the room all too silently. You met him just down the hall.

His eyes dipped to your chest and heated. You removed the top of your jumpsuit and tied it around your waist, revealing the plain black tank underneath that did everything right to show off your curves.

Then he was looking everywhere but you, his shoulders tensing, before he started to walk down the hallway. You fell into pace beside him.

You check over him, looking for any signs of injury. Once satisfied that you couldn’t find anything you tilted your face up to his, “You guys should've had an aircraft on standby for that mission,” you reprimanded, half annoyed with him for getting into danger.

He shrugged, “It was supposed to be covert.”

You analyzed his dark uniform, perfect for blending into the night and the shadows. He didn’t have his gun, and he carried his tactical vest in his hand.

“You guys were lucky we had enough fuel to divert our route. What if we weren’t there?” you bit out, anger flushing your skin.

He opened a door for you. The door to his accommodations, you realized. You couldn’t help but notice the space still smelled like you. Or your signature scene of eucalyptus and lavender. You’ve been spending a condemning amount of time here, and with him.

“Good thing we’re lucky,” he pulled at the words with his tongue before turning back to you, eyes flashing to your figure again. His hands reached down to the know that kept your jumpsuit tied to your waist and tugged you closer to him, his other hand wrapping around the back of your neck. You could still smell the fight on him. Dirt and smoke. A now familiar smell.

Your fingers hooked around his belt loops. Heat radiated off of him and warmed your front. Already you were breathless.

He shook his head, “It’s a damn good thing you were there.”

A question formed and you tilted your head at him, lips parting, “How did you know to tell us where you were? How did you know we were already there?” You had made sure your ETA was skewed to disorientate the enemy if they had access to your guys’ comms.

“I figured there was a reason you guys were dark,” his hand traced the lines of your body, memorizing the feel of you under his fingers. They twitched impatiently against you. He slowly walked you backwards to the door to his bedroom, taking his time in watching you stumble over your weakening knees. “How can I thank you?”

If he could read your mind and all the filthy thoughts that popped into your mind, he hid it well. Your ears burned in chagrin. You tugged his shirt out from his pants, diving underneath to touch his skin, “Let me touch you.”

Ghost bit back a hiss when you dug your nails into his abdomen. He kicked the door closed behind him, reaching back only to lock it. Within seconds, his shirt was discarded somewhere on the floor, his muscles on full display as he did so. Your mouth went dry and the sight and the heat that was just at the tips of your ears shot down between your legs. No amount of time would ever tire you of seeing this man undress.

Next was his mask, revealing the devilishly beautiful man underneath. The only way you could describe him was as “sinful”. Black still smeared across his features but it only accentuated his features.

Fuck, you would eat out of the palm of his hand if he told you to.

Whatever he saw on your face made him look away from you with a shy smile, a breath of a laugh escaping him.

You brought his face back to yours, and you had to stand on your toes to reach his mouth. You’d be a fool to think that the kiss was anything but greedy. His mouth immediately opened to yours and he tilted your head with a hand to deepen it. You pressed yourself into him, needing to feel him against every inch of you. A calloused hand reached to touch the bare skin under your tank and traced the line of your spine. Your tongue brushed against him, and you turned to liquid.

He undid the knot of your jumpsuit, and you stepped out of it. Leaving you bare apart from the tank top, a bra, and underwear.

This time, it was your turn to guide him. You took him to his bed, “Lay down.”

He didn’t waste a second and pulled you down with him. You were a tangle of limbs before you planted your knees on either side of his hips. With shaking fingers, you shamelessly outlined the lines and curves of his abs and chest.

Not once did either of you break the kiss, which had become a mess of breath and lips and teeth.

You pressed your hips into his, finding his own arousal there. He groaned at the pressure, hands flying to your waist, and pulling you harder to him. Already a carnal heat that only showed up when you were with him was building somewhere low in your womb. And even lower still.

God, he felt good.

He was going to be the death of you. You were going to burn up in his arms until there was nothing left of you but your need for him.

He paused for a second, his hand disappearing under the waistband of his pants to readjust himself to better align with your strides. You tested, feeling the full length of him pressed to your core, “Carry on,” before his smile could take form it fell away to a hiss when you began a languid pace.

You rolled yourself down on him, your mouth finding the pulse at his throat and licked a stripe it.

Simon liked to pride himself on his control over his needs. He wasn’t a teenage boy after all. He was a man who was more than capable of asserting some sort of rule over his body.

Until just now.

Right then, his entire mind went blank.

He wasn’t sure if he had inhaled too much smoke or if he over-exerted himself today, but that control was nowhere to be seen. His hands fell to your thighs, allowing you full reign on the speed and intensity.

You felt a knot at the apex of your tights tighten, and the liquid arousal that accompanied your desire. You hadn’t even cum yet and you were already soaking through your panties and his pants.

Your kisses to his skin turn into hot desperate breaths, and it sent tingles throughout his body. Your moans were like fuel to a flame and it was driving him insane.

You clung to him, his skin slick with yours and his sweat, as you chased after your climax. He let you use him however you needed. Some ludicrous and giddy part of him revelled at the fact that he wasn’t even inside you and you were still half-wild for him.

Suddenly, your pace stuttered and became erratic. That knot finally loosened and you melted onto him, your body twitching, but you maintained some form of a rhythm.

You pulled back to look at him, his eyes squeezed shut and his bottom lips pulled between his teeth.

You felt him jerk under you, pressing himself impossibly closer to you, his mouth falling open into a downright filthy moan.

You welcomed the wet warmth between him and you that followed.

You chased after his release with him.

You also came back down with him, slowing down to a purr on top of him.

He was breathless, his body jolting with every change of direction.

He would have been a little embarrassed for cumming in his pants if it hadn’t felt so fucking good.

“So sensitive,” you crooned, drawing a line from his heart to the line of hair that faded into the cover of his pants. At first, you weren’t sure he heard you, but then he was growling and flipping you off him. You were face down on the bad, trapped underneath him, his knees moving to spread your legs apart.

“Shouldn’ve said that,” he snarled, his voice dangerous.

He pressed himself into your backside.

He was still devastatingly hard.

You whimpered into his bed, arching your back.

A hand slapped your clothes pussy and you mewled at him in understanding.

Do. Not. Move.

Then the fingers of the same hand outlined your folds over the already damp fabric, focusing on your clit. With his weight on top of you giving your lungs little room to expand and the fact that your brain was short-circuiting your breaths become shallow and unproductive.

He pressed his fingers into your cunt, the only thing keeping him from actually entering you was your panties.

You writhed, desperate for friction. A second slap against your heat stilled you.

“Ohmygod,” you breathed, your legs trembling.

He pushed the cursed fabric down your legs, stopping at your knees. His fingers delved into the slickness there. He swore, almost impressed with how wet you actually were.

Spread your arousal everywhere, across your folds, the sides of your thighs, up to the rounds of your ass. He wanted you a mess in his bed. And you were. You weren’t sure if you were drooling or not, but there was a high chance you were.

Then his attention was back at your core, finger sliding into you without so much as a warning. Your greedy pussy tightened around his fingers, milking them as if they were his cock. His approving groan was nearly enough to send you over the edge. He was whispering naughty, impish things into your ear. Your name rolled off his tongue in a way that made to want to scream.

Still sensitive from before, it didn’t take much from him to entice another orgasm from you. Time wrapped but it couldn’t have been less than a minute before you were spasming around his fingers, and your mind was momentarily fried.

He was whispering in your ear. Your comprehension went out the window so didn’t know what he was saying but from the tone of his voice, he was mocking you.

You felt him shift so he was behind you. He attempted to knock your legs further apart but your panties were still locked around your knees, tying them together.

You felt something warm and velvety soft tap at your entrance. Once, twice. He slid his cock between his fld, coating himself in you.

He asked you a question, probably for permission. The thought that you could string together a coherent sentence right now was laughable. You weren’t even sure you could be trusted to provide your own name.

You could only nod and with your last dregs of will, lift your hips to his.

There was no amount the sex or foreplay that could prepare you for the sheer fucking size of him. He wasn’t just long, not that his eight inches was something to roll your eyes at, but he was thick. Thick enough that when you took him into your mouth, your jaw would ache for days afterward. He was always gentle and never shoved himself inside you like an animal, but you still needed a few seconds to catch your breath each time.

The broken sound that same out of you was naughty, and Simon had to bite his lip to keep from cumming from the sound alone. You were also impossibly tight, but he’d be damned if he got bested by you a second time tonight.

He cruised into a fast pace, and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. The tip of his dick hit your cervix with every thrust. And with every retreat, he brushed against your g spot.

In these moments, there was only him. Only the sounds of his breath, and the feel of his skin. It made him addicting. When with him, especially like this, it was like a moment of reprieve from worries and stresses in life.

The world could be ending and you wouldn’t care. There could be air raids and a fire outside your door and you would still feel completely safe with him. Death and hurt couldn’t reach you when you were in his arms.

His rhythm faltered when you squeezed around him, and he cursed, his arms moved from your ass to brace around you. He just arms shook to keep from crushing you.

He could feel you quivering, both around him and beneath him as your third orgasm approached.

You were going to be the death of him, and he didn’t mind one bit.

You writhed under him as you reached your undoeing, unsure if you wanted him further in or out of you.

You could feel his seed spurt out of him, and coat your inner walls. You could feel his cock twitch with every spray.

He started to slow, letting you reel yourself back into your body. You were spooled out across his bed, onto the floor, floating in the air.

He slid off the bed, carefully tucking himself back into his pants. Which, only now did you realize he didn’t have the patient to remove. He was all wandering eyes and a rueful grin. He was slightly out of breath when he spoke, “So sensitive.”

A/N: You like that?

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley fanfiction #cod fanfic #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod ghost #ghost x reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #cod smut #call of duty smut

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shankss-magnificent-ass · 23 days

Text

Imagine Kaido sees potential in you and drafting you into his crew

You and your comrades: [defending your home by successfully holding off the Tobiroppo]

Kaido: hmm [evaluating your fighting techniques from a distance]

King: They're taking too long to get this over with. [Draws his sword and advances on your homes]

You: [watches King taking down your friends one by one using his fire, ] I need to do something, [looks around to see only a small fishpond in a neighbor's yard]

King: [sends a blast of flames in the direction of someone's home, only to stumble back in surprise when you leap through his flames, landing on his chest, with your weapons poised to gouge out his eyes.]

Kaido: King, stop, I want that one alive.

King: [grabs you, and holds you at arm's length, stunned you're alive,] Why the hell would you want this one alive!?

Kaido: Think about it. How many people can you say, with certainty, have been brave enough to charge your fire attacks, let alone come out unscathed?

King: [eyes you with irritation] Not a single person.

You: Fuck both of you, put me down! [narrowly miss clipping King's mask with your weapon]

Kaido: I think we've found the most valuable thing in this village, there is no need to waste any more time here.

King: [huffs in frustration before turning to the crew] Alright, it's time to pull back, Kaido has what he's looking for.

Sasaki: Ehh! But there is still so much we could take! We found a whole cellar of booze.

Kaido: [looks at you out of the corner of his eye before making up his mind] Leave it.

Black Maria: This isn't like you at all, leaving booze behind, I hope you'll share with me what's happening.

Kaido: What's going on is I want this one to join our crew [tossing his thumb over his shoulder, in your direction]

You and the Beast Pirate crew: WHAT!

You: Why would I join your crew?

Kaido: Not would, will. You will join my crew. Also, if you do, I will not only leave your village alone, it will fall under my protection, and I won't tax them.

King: You're not gonna even tax them a little bit?

Kaido: Not if they accept my deal.

You: [grits your teeth] Fine.

Kaido: Okay then, let's move out.

On Kaido's Ship

King: how did you make it through my fire?

You: I used Leidenfrosts effect in a two-part defense. I grabbed a quilt my neighbor had hanging out to dry on their laundry line, then dowsed it and myself in a nearby fishpond. I climbed up on the roof and used the quilt to make it through the brunt of your attack, to jump off the roof. When the water evaporated, I then tossed the quilt to the side and attacked you.

King: Leidenfrost effect?

You: When your fire hit me, it rapidly evaporated the water, creating a protective layer of steam around me. I wasn't sure it'd even work, I figured, fuck it, it was worth a shot. [shrugs]

Kaido: [cackles] I knew there was more to you than meets the eye.

King: so you damn near beheaded me with science?... I think I'm starting to see what Kaido sees in you.

You: please don't

List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter| Kofi || Patreon

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #beast pirates #kaido #kaidou #king the wildfire #king the conflagration #sasaki #black maria #animal kingdom pirates #from the depths of the dragon's hoard #tma original #no beta we die like men

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facefartstories · 1 month

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Stranded Fart Tank

They were on a mission on enemy soil. Jeremy accidentally fucked up the tank and soon, he and Seth were stranded in the desert heat completely visible to any enemy awaiting to attack."Fuck you faggot! You don't know how to drive a tank?!" Seth scolded. Jeremy was a bit taken aback by the faggot comment... he never came out as gay to his fellow soldiers. "I... I'm sorry... I was dozing off... I shouldn't have gotten us stuck." Jeremy apologized. "You wanna be forgiven faggot?! Fuck, keep your face in my ass... all we need is for all this gas I'm holding in to spread into the desert and alert the others that we're out here... fuck... you probably just got us killed." Seth propped his legs on the dashboard and spread his legs. Jeremy took a deep breath as he pressed his face right up against Seth's crotch. "It stinks down there don't it? "Seth whispered. "Yes it does" Jeremy inhaled and sniffed to his hearts content. BBBRRRMMPPH!"Haha, fuckin hell, sniff THAT up." Seth reached down to press his partner's face tighter against his ass. Jeremy's eyes began to water as the gas burned his throat and lungs. He had never smelled gas so foul in his life."Ugh! What did you eat?!" Jeremy whined. "None of your fucking business...I said sniff." Seth was going to blast Jeremy's face with farts until Jeremy passed out. FFFBBBBBRT! "How much gas do you have?" Jeremy coughed. "Quiet... they'll hear you... in fact I should probably make these quieter..."Seth tensed up and the air rushed silently out of his ass and into Jeremy's face. "Fuck Seth... you smell like you fucking shit your pants." Jeremy cried into Seth's crotch. BBRRMBT! "I probably could... I probably did... this fucking desert heat is tearing my stomach the fuck up..." Seth was rather distant. He had no reason for conversation. The only thing Jeremy was going to do was keep his face between Seth's legs, and pray that the next fart would knock him out cold for a while. Minutes turned into hours, and hours turned into days. Seth had yet to run out of gas. Jeremy was still pressed tightly against Seth's crotch and his tears welling in his eyes from the rancid stench that he was absorbing into Seth's crotch, only making his farts smell worse. BBBRRRRPPPPPPMMMMMMPPHHH!!!"Oh god! Please Seth! It stinks so bad!" Jeremy whimpered between Seth's legs. "Just sniff it faggot. Smell my fucking wrath." Seth squeezed his thighs together, trapping Jeremy's head into his crotch and squeezing as tight as possible. The next fart absolutely destroyed Jeremy. BBBBRRRRRRRBBBBBMMMPPPHHRT! "OH yeah..." Seth felt so much relief after that blast. Jeremy's cock had started oozing cum. His face continually blasted by more stinky gas from Seth, he passed out in the heat of the desert, hoping they'd be rescued soon. Jeremy awoke in a hospital bed on the other end of the battlefield. He was being treated for dehydration. Seth was sitting right next to him. When Seth saw Jeremy had awoke... he stood up, and walked towards his comrade."Well well well, if it isn't the fart boy..." Seth stared blankly. "What... what do you want?! How can I settle this?!" Jeremy was scared. Seth hopped up onto Jeremy's bed and sat right on his cock, and ripped one. FFFFRRRRBBBBBBRRRMMMMPH!!! Jeremy's eyes rolled to the back of his head as in seconds, Seth's latest fart made him cum his pants again. Seth smirked from Jeremy's reaction. "Dehydration. I'd like to think my hot steamy gas dried you the fuck out. Don't worry... I got more in the tank. Plenty more. An infinite supply."More... farts?!" Jeremy shook a bit. FFFRRRPPPPFFFF! "Oh yeah... and since your fucking cock tents up every time I bust ass, that just proves what a fucking fart fag you really are... and unless you want me to tell the boys, you best get that sniffer of yours ready whenever I gotta fart to fucking blast... got it, boy?"Jeremy looked into Seth's eyes and nodded... it was going to be a pretty stinky eight more months.

Let me know what you guys think In the chat below.

#fart tank #eproctophilia #male farts #military men farts #military farts #gay military fart stories #face fart story #fart story #fart kink #eprocto

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fanaticsnail · 5 months

Text

The Marine's Mistake

Masterlist here.

Word Count: 1,700+ (just a small little drabble for me!!)

Warnings: Clean-shaven Mihawk, lots of flirting, mentions of drinking.

@feral-artistry requested this a while ago, and I finally had enough in me to pump out this little drabble. I can easily see myself adding to this little relationship down the line, but for now it's all short, sweet and innocent.

Hushed whispers travelled along the rotund dining table in the dimly-lit tavern. Hands shielding lips, narrowed eyes, the smallest tilt of chins spread like the trickle of seawater through a crack in the ship’s hull to litter the hallway with the salty liquid.

“What do you think happened?” a red-headed marine uttered to her comrade beside her, eyes widening the longer her sights were held to the table in the centre of the tavern.

“He wouldn’t have shaved it,” another shook their head, raising the cool glass of bitter beer to their lips. A small foam line falling to their top lip as they pulled the glass back to utter: “it’s a part of his look, right? It wouldn’t be intentional.”

“Perhaps it was an accident,” a blonde, tall cadet uttered with a curt nod, “cannon fire, a blast or something.”

“I don’t think he’d be close enough to the end of a cannon for that to happen,” a smaller, pink-haired cadet offered in response as he adjusted his circular glasses up the bridge of his nose.

You sat at the corner of the table, not quite following the conversation falling amongst your peers of marines. This was the third transfer you’d been a part of in the span of a month: the latest ship needing to utilise your skills as a hand-to-hand combat specialist to better the skills of the marines.

Vice-Admiral Garp and his marine cadets were in the early stages of building rapport with you, you only truly interacting with your peers and subordinates while running drills or swapping over watch shifts so far. This venture in land for the replenishment of supplies and to fix up any chipped wood for the ship was truly your first opportunity to really get to know your new crew on a deeper level.

You looked down at the end of your pint-glass, the slosh of the final dregs of the beaded liquid swaying as you held your gaze firmly to it.

“Marines,” you addressed your peers, bringing the attention of your drinking companions over to you, “I’m getting another round,” you rose to your feet, pushing your wooden bar-stool back beneath the table below, “speak now if you’d like another, I think it’s my turn this time?”

A chorus of a resounding “yes!” fell to your ears, prompting a small giggle rise in your chest. The “yes!” gained the attention of the rest of the small dining room, prompting you to lower your palm to the floor with a playful “shh”, the laugh falling as you began taking orders.

“I’m assuming all ales then?” you asked as your laughter diminished, “I should just get a jug, at this stage.”

“Yes to the jug!” the red-head began to chant, a broad smile displayed openly on her lips.

“Aye!” the marine beside her confirmed with a similar amount of enthusiasm.

Another giggle fell from your lips as you turned to make your way to the wooden bar, the barkeeper meeting your gaze with a nod in your approach. As you stood your torso up against the bar with a handful of berry clutched in your hand, your eyes travelled to the body which began their own approach to the bar.

The gentleman was adorning an open, cream-coloured silk shirt, frills embellishing the low collar with a crossed draw-string revealing the crevasses of his muscular chest. Dark and loose curls framed his face, angular and strong arches of his jaw and cheek bones comparable to carved marble. His yellow eyes beneath his long, dark eyelashes held an intensity you hadn’t seen before.

He was breathtaking. Your eyes travelled to his dark, leather pants held by a woven belt with a large, brass buckle. Trailing your eyes back up, you found your gaze met by the gentleman you were shamelessly undressing with your eyes; a warmth rising to your cheeks under the knowledge that you were found out.

“Marine,” he offered in a bored tone as he drew his body beside yours at the bar.

“Beautiful,” you challenged him, a small smirk rising to your lips. He arched his brow upwards in response, his intense frown no longer present atop his handsome features. He hummed, leaning his elbows against the wooden bar and flicking out his index and middle finger to gain the attention of the bartender.

“What are we drinking, gorgeous?” you asked him, turning your shoulders to offer him your full attention.

“We?” he scoffed, yellow eyes trailing over your face as his shaven chin pointed towards your own, “I am not buying you a drink, Marine.”

He turned back towards the bar, completely ignoring your presence beside him as he focussed on trailing the bartender with his eyes.

“I never suggested such a thing, charming,” you taunted him, your index finger trailing the benchtop beside him slowly; drawing his gaze to your digits. He arched his brow upwards, intrigue gracing his honey-coloured eyes briefly. The bartender finally gracing the both of you with his presence, brushing down the benchtop with a tea-towel and smiling broadly.

“What’ll it be?” he asked, placing his white and blue tea-towel over his shoulder and leaning against the counter.

“Three jugs of ale for the table in the corner,” you smiled, turning again to the man beside you, “and add his drinks to my tab, along with two more of what he’s having.”

The dark-haired man snapped his face back towards you, eyes wide at your boldness. His eyes narrowed at you, training over your playful expression.

“You have no idea who I am, do you?” he uttered in a low tone.

“None in the slightest,” you shrugged, your bottom lip falling into a small pout, “but I sure would like to.”

The man was taken aback, his eyes widening before a small smirk grew itself against his lips.

“A bottle of Sangiovese,” he tilted his chin back at the bartender, “and two glasses.”

You scrunched your nose upwards in delight, drawing out the berry to cover your tab and handing it over to the bartender. You turned to face your torso to the room, your elbows finding the bar behind you as you arched your back outwards in your leaning.

“Sangiovese?” you questioned the mysterious man beside you, “you in the mood for something more on the tart and sour side, handsome?”

“There you are again with the pet-names, Marine,” he taunted you with a small purr in his tone, prompting a warm flush to once again draw over your face. You broke away your eye contact with him and looked to the table of your peers; who seemed to have widening eyes and the colour drained from their faces. You shook your head a little, brows furrowing in question as they witnessed a waitress bring over their jugs of ale.

“And here I was thinking my poor mood would travel back home with me, after that meeting,” he uttered under his breath as the bartender came back with a decanted bottle of sangiovese and two crystal wine-glasses.

“What was that?” you asked him, turning your gaze back towards the gentleman who currently captivated you with his mysterious aura.

“Indeed, sweetheart,” he leant his body over yours, towering you beneath his intimidating aura, “something tart that I can roll over my palate with subtle spice is what the current mood of the hour calls for.”

Instead of backing away and cowering beneath his towered stoop, you instead arched your back upwards further and lulled your head to the side with your jaw revealed to him. He hummed down at you, reaching behind you both to collect the glasses and the decanter within his wide fingertips.

“You are intriguing,” he praised you in a deep rumbly whisper, his lips falling dangerously close to your own as he retrieved the objects behind you, “allow me to escort you outside to continue this delicious conversation over the wine you graciously paid for, that is-.”

You tilted your head, awaiting for him to continue his sentence. He turned his head to look to your commanding officer, Bogard and Vice-Admiral Garp, with his brow arched upwards. His lips curled up into a smirk, you watching how truly beautiful his smile grew to become.

“That is…-?” you trailed in question for him to continue, drawing your right hand up to his cheek. You utilised your index finger and thumb to collect his smooth chin and draw his attention back to you. Upon slowly sweeping the room before drawing his attention back towards you.

“That is, if you’re completely ‘off-duty’ for the rest of the evening,” his lips grew into a soft, playful grin. Oh, how gorgeous.

“A whole evening with a gorgeous stranger?” you questioned him, releasing his chin from your fingers and opting to caress his cheek, “and here I thought we were just sharing wine. Honey, you spoil me.”

A small rumbly growl released itself from within his chest to almost purr at you. He withdrew from his stoop, turning with the collected decanter and glasses within his right hand and turning to offer you the crook of his left elbow to escort you out of the tavern.

“You truly have no idea who I am?” he chuckled at you as he led you from the tavern doors, the room falling almost silent amongst the gasps and whispers from your peers.

“Should I, beautiful?” you asked him giving his bicep a small squeeze as you praised him. He sighed with a small chuckle, drawing his forehead in to press against your own briefly as he allowed the doors of the tavern to swing shut behind him.

The sunset hovering over the sea was a welcome sight, the warmth of the day falling on your skin and welcoming it into the romantic atmosphere you had both found yourselves in for the evening.

Dracule Mihawk was going to enjoy this unbridled and flirtatious attention for as long as you would allow yourself to play along with him. It had been a while since his aura of intimidation had been shed from his body, and even longer still since he was the one being approached at a bar rather than himself finding someone to toy with. He simply can’t wait for the pin to drop against the floor and you realise you are literally dancing with death.

And it was all thanks to a horrible prank performed by the chop-chop devil-fruit user. The devil-fruit user who was currently pinned against the hull of his ship by harsh chains of sea-stone as punishment fitting the crime. Perhaps he should even thank the infamous clown-captain for his idiocy, but for now: the promise of wine and a beautiful, flirtatious companion for the evening awaits. How Mihawk adored this attention.

#one piece #opla #opla fic #one piece live action #x reader #mihawk #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader

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13rurururi · 10 months

Note

Can I request head-cannons on how the Hantengu clones deal with their shared female crush and how they confess to her. Along with what it’s like to date them? :)

Russian Roulette: Hantengu Clones x Reader (SFW Headcanons & Imagines)

Pairing/s: Sekido x Reader, Aizetsu x Reader, Karaku x Reader, Urogi x Reader

Content: female reader, jealousy, the demons fighting over you, etc.

Synopsis: Despite their clashing personalities, the four clones of Hantengu always upheld their ultimate goal of serving the Demon King. Aside from their loyalty and shared blood, they never entertained the possibility of having anything else in common — that was until they met you, an ambitious demon slayer that they can't get off their minds. In other words, they have a crush on you, and you've never been so conflicted in your life.

Being a demon slayer involves plenty of sacrifices and hardships that warrant unshakeable mental strength. You've lived your life with the threat of death looming at the back of your head, yet you only continue to hone your sharpened sword with a mask of courage and certainty.

One day, you arrive at the well-hidden Swordsmith Village to have your chipped blade repaired; unfortunately, your supposedly peaceful time at the hot springs is interrupted by swarms of killer goldfishes and four — annoyingly attractive — clones of the weeping, whining demon.

You release a battle cry as you witness your comrades get swept away by a strong blast of wind unleashed by the demon equipped with a fan. At this point, you were alone, knuckles whitening due to the swift build-up of rage and anxiety pooling in your stomach.

You unsheathe your katana, adapting a steady stance amidst the four demons who peered at you with their piercing, colored eyes.

However, you notice something quite odd hidden behind their peculiar gazes. Behind the kanji of "Upper Moon" and "Four," you curiously note a humane emotion that is rarely attributed to demons. Your instincts turn cogs in your head, and you arrive at a bewildering thought that sent a shiver through your body:

The four demons you are tasked to kill seem to be enamored with you.

SEKIDO

Something other than infuriation is stuck in his throat.

He will be in great denial when it comes to his infatuation for you.

He's a demon that is so straight-laced and strict; he never entertained the possibility of a developing a crush.

He'll be blushing a hue that could match the tint of his eyes — fiery red. He'll feverishly deny it, though.

If he is close to you in proximity, he'll turn so stiff and rigidly cling onto his staff, not uttering a word. This makes you think he dislikes you, but he's so enamored with you that he's actually rendered speechless.

If he manages to get over his raging anxiety when it comes to talking to you, he'll confess to you, very ambiguously.

You'll be confused if it was a declaration of love or war — his flustered expression and clamoring hands betray him, though, and you'll gently take his hand in yours, understanding settling in your chest.

It takes a while for him to truly shed off his stiffness and awkwardness; in time, he is quite the clingy lover. He ensures to always be by your side as you go sightseeing or stroll under the bright moonlight.

He enjoys quality time with you, after all.

Your first kiss is messy, a little awkward yet full of genuinely potent feelings. He smiles as his lips are pressed onto yours, grateful to be the man that will protect you for the rest of your mortal life.

The rage sitting on his tongue tasted different the moment he laid his eyes on you. He is a demon that gawks out consistent, clear orders to his fellow clones (who he considers as absolute buffoons that don't take their duties seriously).

However, he uncharacteristically wavers when he sees your subtly shivering form in front of him. He gulps and muffles a conflicted growl under his breath, stealing a glance at the other three, who seem to be as intrigued as he is.

What are you? His erratic mind considers the possibility of you being a Marechi, but he quickly dismisses that thought when he realizes that you are not wounded or bleeding in any way.

That's good —

Wait. Did he really feel relief when he confirmed your safety? He is a demon, for crying out loud!

His head spun with a mixture of confusion and rage towards the uncomfortable thump in his chest. What makes you so different, and why do you engulf his thoughts and bloodstream as if you were in control of him?

Whatever such an unfamiliar feeling may be, it should not deter him from accomplishing his duties under Muzan's orders; however, he couldn't bring himself to electrocute you.

Damn it. He harshly grits his teeth in realization: he wants to keep you alive and safe — you're too damn interesting to kill off. Sekido is undoubtedly in denial of his developing infatuation for you.

Unfortunately, his stubbornness prevents him from even approaching your glowering, quaking figure. He remains rooted on the same spot, opting to simply intensely gaze at you from afar.

KARAKU

His whole body tingles with excitement at your mere presence — you're so pleasing to look at.

He is an expressive suitor, and he spoils you with gifts and trinkets that remind him of you. Yes, his love language is gift giving.

Even if you appear closed-off, he will remain persistent yet patient. You wake up to various snacks, jewelry, and love letters scattered across your room.

You initially think that his feelings for you are superficial, but little did you know, no one has ever made Karaku's heart pump as loudly and powerfully as you.

You are already aware of his infatuation for you, but he still opts to declare his desire to be in a relationship with you through an immensely romantic gesture: rose petals scattered around a garden, lanterns sparkling brightly amidst the dark night, and an entrée of your favorite meals stacked on a tree stump.

He hates human food, as do any other demon, but he still makes an effort to ensure your happiness and satisfaction.

You may think his efforts diminish once you accept his proposal, yet it only heightens and strengthens.

You realize he truly loves you when he showcases how consistent, attentive, and patient he is. Even if you aren't always partaking in fun, exciting, and heart-pumping activities, Karaku is more than happy to be by your side.

You are his greatest pleasure, after all.

Cute, cute, cute! You are the cutest, prettiest little thing he has ever seen.

To him, you appear as a shiny, new plaything that could relieve him of his boredom. The night is still young, and he would love to spend it with you.

He remembers the hot springs by the slope of the mountains. His green-tinted eyes shine in excitement. If he invites you, would you come? He'll spare your life in exchange for a date!

He's much more straightforward and accepting of his feelings due to his insatiable nature that seeks novel and exciting experiences. He believes you could be the next best thing to happen to him after hundreds of years. Be a dear and accept his proposal, would you?

He approaches you cheerily, putting away his fan-like weapons. You step away and remain guarded, which only makes Karaku pout at you flippantly.

"Aww, don't be shy now. I won't hurt you if you agree to soak with me in the hot springs. How about that, pretty?"

He ignores the heated gazes aimed at his head by the other three behind him, well-aware that all of them feel a shared, unexplainable attraction to you.

The smirk on Karaku's face doesn't waver as he steps closer once more, and to his delight, you don't widen the distance between you and his tall, muscular figure.

Standing mere inches away from you, Karaku observes you with curious eyes — you're so cute with your quivering lips, dilated pupils, and glaring expression. You are unable to repress the shiver that runs through your veins when he licks his lips as he stares at yours.

Karaku is quite expressive with his evident infatuation for you, and he shortly sighs at the imagery of you and him entangled in one another in the hot springs. It's an unfamiliar feeling, but he is accepting of everything new and exciting. In this case, the new and exciting is none other than you.

Opting to close the inches of distance between you, he raises his free hand to caress your face; however, before he can make any contact with you, his movement is ceased with a firm grasp on his forearm—

Aizetsu?

AIZETSU

He wants to rid of all the sadness in your soul.

He shows his affection towards you through attentive and caring actions.

He isn't verbally expressive, and he oftentimes averts his gaze away from you if you catch him staring.

With how reserved he appears (paired with the tiny frown that settles firmly on his mouth), you initially assumed that he is indifferent towards you.

However, his actions speak louder than words — whenever you strain yourself too much, he quietly offers to massage the tension away from your shoulders; when you have a subtle downcast expression behind your smiles, he instantly picks up on it and sits you down, gently intertwining his fingers in yours.

"You can talk to me; I'm here to listen."

He is an amazing listener, and he will never pressure you into accepting him as your lover.

In fact, you're the one who decides to propose to him, assuring him that you return his feelings in the same magnitude.

His lips would quiver, and his his eyes would widen in surprise for a fraction of a second. Then — to your immense shock — he smiles. His smile is gentle, soft, and warm — a testament to his affection for you.

Once you begin dating, the trust you have for each other only deepens, and many sweet secrets and burdensome tales are shared between you.

You've never felt so safe with someone before, and you're certain that he'll love you no matter the circumstance; you will never be a burden to him.

You are the sole warmth of his gloomy heart, after all.

The constant whir of depressive thoughts seem to halt for a brief moment. His downturned eyes and furrowed brows twitch in awe at the mere sight of you.

You are so magnetic.

He silently gapes at you from where he stood, realizing that you have entranced the others as much as you've enticed him. He catches Sekido swallow a flustered expression and Karaku approach you with overflowing excitement in his jovial movements.

Aizetsu remains in a trance of bewildering yet intriguing emotions; however, seeing Karaku raise his hand to grasp you makes him instinctively — in a nearly primal response — sprint towards you, ceasing Karaku's hand from even touching a hair on your body.

"What do you think you're doing?" Karaku's carefree expression melts away, now replaced with restrained annoyance that slips through his voice.

"A lady under stress cannot give you proper consent to touch her," Aizetsu calmly yet firmly declares, releasing his uncharacteristically tight grip on his fellow demon's forearm.

"Hah!? Who are you to say what's right or not — you're a damn demon, for crying out loud! You're always so boring as hell, Aizetsu!" With each sentence, Karaku's chipper voice grew into a deeper, rougher bark.

You notice him curl his fists into a ball, veins bulging out due to irrepressible pressure. Aizetsu faces him calmly, his ever-present frown deepening.

Are these demons — clones of the Upper Moon Four — about to fight each other over you?

As you stand there with a flabbergasted expression replacing your initial look of determination, Aizetsu cranes his neck to gaze at you; his gaze softens.

"I'm so sorry you have to witness this. It saddens me to see you in great distress."

Your mouth gapes at his polite and genuine tone. Before you could utter some sort of response, the demon adorned with massive wings interrupted the bubbling confrontation.

UROGI

He'd sacrifice his joy if it means you could live your life in eternal happiness.

His flippant personality turns down a notch once he realizes his attraction towards you.

He doesn't want you to think that he's pursuing you out of boredom.

However, he gets a little too overwhelmed with bursts of happiness circulating throughout his body when he's near you.

For the most part, you bear witness to him intently ogling at you with dilated pupils, wings fluttering in intermittent jitters.

He's like a puppy! Well, he has the literal anatomy of an eagle, yet you can't help but internally swoon at his dog-like mannerisms.

If you invite him to spend time with you under the stars, it's with utmost certainty that he agrees with unhidden glee.

He gets so wholesomely joyful when you reciprocate his display of affection.

He is quite the smooth-talker, tongue always prepared with a quip that makes you burst in wheezing laughter.

He's also well-equipped when it comes to comforting you with soothing affirmations of love and comfort. You can't help but fall into his strong embrace as he whispers promises of a better tomorrow.

When he engulfs you in a hug, his wings act as another layer of warmth and protection, making you melt deeper into his body as you sigh in contentment.

You establish a relationship without even needing a direct confession — which you initially found ironic, considering how his words and tender touches were the main driving force of your intimacy.

In the end, your presence fills him with indescribable happiness, and he would spend the rest of his life ensuring that you feel the same sensation of joy.

For the first time in his centuries as a demon, he feels the smile plastered on his face falter. Why, why, why — why are the other demons obviously enticed by your presence?

When you caught his gaze, he felt a cold shiver rush through the span of his body, up to the tips of his wings. It is terrifyingly unfamiliar, yet he wishes to feel more of the ecstasy your mere existence makes him feel.

He wants you all to himself — he wants to grasp you by your waist and fly you above the clouds. He wants to feel your warm palms pressed against his chest as he flies through gorgeous sceneries that he wishes to witness with you.

However, that's easier said than done.

Sekido — that annoying stick-in-the-mud — is quiet in deep contemplation for once in his life. Apart from that, you are currently in between a raging Karaku and an uncommonly unyielding Aizetsu.

Urogi feels his talons chip at the coarse dirt below him, and as if he cannot bear to see the shadow of fear in your eyes any longer, he slacks his jaw and screams.

His attack won't harm the demons around him; after all, they share the same cells, but it still effectively brings the attention to him and away from you. He wants to give you a moment to breathe, and you somehow deduce the intent of his gesture from the slight crinkle of his bright eyes.

Urogi's head-splitting screech results in all four demons glowering at one another. A realization settles in the air and a twinge of possessiveness and unbridled desire become potent.

No words are spoken, yet they all seem to finally comprehend the situation: they all want you, and you won't be shared. The cells in their bodies furiously screech in yearning for your touch, attention, and entirety. It was a terribly atypical feeling, but who are they to restrain themselves from attaining satiety? They're demons, after all, and they want you — even if it means fighting each other.

It felt like forever until all four pairs of eyes gazed at you once more. A painful rush of fear, confusion, and anticipation courses through your body. However, before you could regain a fighting stance, the one with the blood-red eyes spoke,

"Slayer, we have decided to settle our differences in private. Until then, know that we will be returning, and one of us will take you as our lover."

You simply leave your jaw hanging low, rendered speechless by the bewildering declaration. You hear the distant shouts of Tanjiro and your fellow slayers, and you turn your head towards the direction of their presence for a mere second, quickly gazing back at the demons —

They're gone.

The field is left empty and you are left baffled in a spiral of conflicting emotions. You feel your legs wobble, and you fall to your knees. Your heart hammers in your chest as you heave loudly at the demons' intentions:

They will be back, and one of them will take you — a human — as their bride.

A/N: I tested out a new format involving (hopefully) discernable switches from headcanons to imagines. The bulleted points are basically the clones daydreaming about dating you — they're simping, for real.

Anyway, I hope it's to your liking, Anon, even if I diverged a little from your request. I just wanted to see some internal conflict from the Hantengu clones, hehe. Maybe in another life — another post — they could be reincarnated into the modern era and actually spend time with you.

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081314 · 5 months

Text

Book 7: The Ruler of the Abyss – Chapter 6 (Part 2)

Following is part 2 of my translation of Chapter 6 of Book 7: The Ruler of the Abyss. This part contains Episode 7-89 to 7-94.

Main storyline spoilers after the cut.

Episode 7-89

Lilia: We finally…. made it… There’s Black Scale Castle!

Yuu: So this is where Tsunotarou grew up!

Imperial Guard C: Garururu! Gaaaaa!

Imperial Guard A: Kukeeee!!

Lilia: Forget about me! The egg… We need to get the egg to the castle! Please, go tell Queen Maleficia to prepare cradle tower… and hurry!

Imperial Guard C / A: Gyaoou!!

(The guards depart)

Lilia: Ugh…!

(Lilia collapses)

Baul: General! Someone, fetch a doctor!! He needs medical attention now!!

Lilia: I don’t need a damn doctor. I fulfilled the princess’s imperial decree… And I’m going back to the Verdant Moors…!

Baul: You idiot! It’s beyond reckless for you to return to the battlefield in your condition!

(Lightning flashes)

Everyone: !?

Sebek: What was that!? The sky to the east, it’s glowing all of a sudden…

Lilia: That light… No, it can’t be…!!

Land of Briar – Land near Castle

Meleanor (Dragon form): ROOOOOAAAAR!!

Iron One A: Aauuugh!!

Iron One B: That blasted witch! I can’t believe she still has the strength left to fight, we’ve hit her with everything we’ve got! And now she’s covered the sky with her black magic, and blocked off all our escape routes with those awful thorns… She truly is the definition of evil…!

Iron One C: There’s no telling how many of our comrades she’s taken out already. We can’t let her reign of terror continue one second longer. WE’LL FELL THAT FOUL BEAST HERE AND NOW!

Iron Ones: Uooooooooh!!!

Meleanor (Dragon form): ROOOOARRR!!

Knight of Dawn: …Haaah… hahhh…. Just where did we go wrong. If we’d only tried to understand each other better, to work together more… Then perhaps we all could have lived in peace. But I-… But we choose to go down this path, instead. We’ve hurt each other so much, lost so many of our dear friends… There’s no turning back now. I know I cannot ask for your forgiveness, but please… Please just let me have my dream. Let me dream of a world where all species, not just human and face… can smile together. And may my dream… become reality someday. ….Fairy guardians… LEND ME YOUR STRENGTH!

Land of Briar – Maleficia’s Castle

Sebek: The storm has ended, and those black clouds have vanished…

Silver: …It’s the dawn.

Lilia: Ah…. Aaaah…Ahhhhh…!!!

(Lilia falls to his knees)

Silver: General Vanrouge!?

Baul: No, that’s absurd!! It- It can’t be…!!!

Sebek: Sir Baul, just what is going on!?

Baul: Lady Meleanor’s magic, it’s…. it’s gone.

Sebek / Silver: ….!!

Lilia: Meleanor…. MELEANOOOR! If I were only stronger, I would’ve made you come with us….! Why…! Just why…! Levan… I couldn’t… I couldn’t keep our promise…! GOD DAMMMIIIIIIIIT!!

Episode 7-90

Lilia: Levan… I couldn’t… I couldn’t keep our promise…! GOD DAMMMIIIIIIIIT!!

Mysterious Voice: What is the meaning of this… Princess Meleanor has returned to the stars….

Mysterious Voice: She never backed down before the humans, not once. Oh, how noble she was! The very pride of the followers of the night!

Mysterious Voice: Rest in peace, dear child of the night.

Mysterious Voices: The night’s blessing upon ye.

Grim: The heck’s goin’ on? I hear voices whisperin’ in my ears, but there’s nobody here.

Baul (whispering): …It’s the senate.

Sebek (whispering): The senate!? I’ve heard though their bodies have returned to the stars, they linger in this world as naught but consciousnesses.

Lilia: ….Meleanor was noble? She was our pride? Bullshit! That’s all a fucking load of bullshit!! The hell does any of that even fucking matter now, she’s gone…!

Senate Member A: Shut your vile little mouth, you lowly bat. Have you no shame! You left the princess behind on the battlefield and slunk back here all by yourself…! You couldn’t protect the princess, yet you dare call yourself an Imperial Guard! Shame on you for running away!

Senate Member C: Ahh, dear princess…. The poor thing, to be stuck with a subordinate too daff to comprehend the fae’s pride…

Senate Member D: I warned her time and time again: a dirty little bat has no business at a dragon’s side.

Senate Member E: You returned the Draconia family’s kindness with ingratitude…. You good-for-nothing!

Baul: Please, wait! The General was protecting the heir under an imperial decree from Princess Meleanor…!

Lilia: …Stop, Baul. The high elders are right. From hereon I….. I resign from the Imperial Guard. I relinquish my title as General of the Right. My subordinates were just following my orders. I humbly ask if you could be… lenient in your judgement.

Senate Member F: You aren’t just going to lose your title - you’re never stepping foot within the capital again!

Senate Member G: Hurry up and get your filthy hands off the heir’s egg! You repulse me!

Yuu: But he was just trying to protect Tsunotarou!

Grim: What the- The egg slipped outta Lilia’s arms an’ now it’s floatin’ in the air!

Baul (whispering): Damnit… Damn that blasted senate!

Baul: Please, wait! Princess Meleanor instructed the general to hatch the egg if she failed to return! And even our distinguished senate cannot defy an imperial decree, you all know that!

(Mallyegg floats away and vanishes in a burst of light)

Lilia: ……Farewell, Malleus.

Baul: Ah! G-General! Where are you going!? Are you turning your back on Princess Meleanor’s decree!?

Lilia: …I’m not an Imperial Guard anymore, Baul. Her decree has nothing to do with me now.

Baul: But…!

Lilia: I don’t belong here anymore. And there’s nothing left for me to protect….

Silver: General Vanrouge… Please wait!

(Lilia slaps away Silver’s hand)

Lilia: Just leave me alone…

(The Darkness appears)

Baul: W-What is this… this foul energy!?

Sebek: Is it… Is it the Darkness!?

Silver: It’s being drawn in by father’s despair! Shit, it’s already got him surrounded!

Lilia: …Meleanor, Levan…. Are you down there?

Silver: No, you can’t go down there!! The Darkness is trying to trap you, General Vanrouge!

Lilia: You guys take me… with you…

Silver: FATHEEEEER!!

Sebek: Silver! We must go after Sir Lilia! Grim, Yuu, ready yourselves!

Silver: …Yeah. Let’s go!

Grim: Man, how come we had to wind up here again. It’s so dark an’ cold…

Sebek: Argh, cease with your mewling! If we’re able to locate Sir Lilia, and have him understood this is but a dream, we should return to where we were prior.

Silver: Yeah… That’s right. I never knew… I never knew father stepped down as general because of something that serious.

Sebek: ….In truth, there’s something I’ve been suspicious of ever since I first apprenticed under Sir Lilia. Don’t most of our retired leaders reside in vast mansions just outside the capital? And yet… And yet someone whom my grandfather respects as our nation’s hero, and someone whom the Young Lord adores as part of his family… Lives deep within the forest, far, far away from the capital - as though he were in hiding. I’ve long wondered why that was.

Silver: My father would always tell me the air up in the capital city disagreed with his skin. And he never took me with him there, either… So I just always thought he preferred a quiet life, surrounded by nature… But my father's known Lord Malleus since he was little, and I remember he’d often get summoned to the castle by Her Majesty and Lord Malleus.

Sebek: I wonder, just what transpired in the 200 years between Sir Lilia abdicating his position, and Lord Malleus being born?

Grim: Ain’t gonna do us any good just sittin’ around blabberin’. Come on, let’s go look for Lilia. Then we can get outta here!

Silver: Right. …Wait for us, father!

Episode 7-91

Sebek: Hmph. You are but small fry. You’ve no chance against us, Darkness!

Silver: !! Shh!

(Silver puts his hand over Sebek’s mouth)

Sebek: Fmph?!?

Silver: I hear someone talking, on your 2 o’clock. Let’s check it out.

Sebek: Hmphh!!

Silver: Is this… Dragon Capital City?

Grim: This is just like when we were lookin’ for Silver in the Darkness. We’re all see-through, like ghosts.

Sebek: Ghmph!! Fmmhp… *Sebek rips off Silver’s hand* …Ahh! You!!! Just how long do you intend to keep your hand upon my mouth!

Silver: !! Shh!

(Silver puts his hand back over Sebek’s mouth)

Sebek: Bfmph!?

Baul: Sir Vanrouge. I apologize for the abrupt summons…. But I’m glad you made it.

Lilia: It’s been ten years since we last met, eh?

Silver/Sebek/Grim: !!

Baul: I was concerned since I didn’t get any response to the New Year’s card I sent you… But I’m glad to see you’re doing well.

Lilia: Uh-huh, sure. You know that letter you sent me… I noticed it had the Draconia family’s coat of arms on it. It was Her Majesty who ordered I come here, right? …The heck’s going on? I can’t imagine the Senate or the aristocrats would be happy to see me here. I know Queen Maleficia's subject to their opinions, as well...

Baul: Indeed. That’s why we had that message delivered to you in secret. But you know… Your expertise in concealment hasn’t dulled a bit since you retired. I wouldn’t expect anything less from you. …This way, please.

Lilia: …?

Silver: …Looks like this dream takes place about a decade after the battle ended.

Grim: Let’s trail ‘em.

Lilia: Is this… cradle tower?

Baul: Correct. The heir’s egg… Lord Malleus’s egg is sleeping up there. This tower is to serve as a temporary cradle for the royal family’s eggs, in case something happens that prevents one from hatching.

Lilia: So it’s basically a dragon incubator, since their eggs won’t grow if you don’t pour love and magic into them. I’m guessing Queen Maleficia’s the one providing the magic right now? I heard if dragon eggs don’t directly receive their parents’ love and affection, it takes a lot longer for them to hatch, but I never thought ten years would pass by without hearing news of the heir’s birth.

Baul: The truth is… you were summoned here due to a grave issue we’re having with the egg.

Lilia: …An issue?

Baul: Yes. For the first five years, Queen Maleficia poured her magic into the egg via the tower… And though its growth was slow, the egg did steadily develop in that time. However… Shortly thereafter, the egg began rejecting her magic.

Lilia: What?

Baul: The doctors we consulted said the egg would be more receptive to her magic and affection if she cradled it, instead of sending her magic to the tower. So in between her official duties, Her Majesty comes to the tower to hold the egg… But even that hasn’t had any effect.

Lilia: He’s rejecting her magic… Don’t tell me it’s because she’s not his parent? That’s ridiculous – his eyes aren’t even open yet, there’s no way he’d be able to tell whose magic he’s receiving!

Baul: We’ve summoned doctors from across the country to come look at things, but the cause for all this remains a mystery. The only thing we’re certain of is this: if we fail to find a way to fix this, Lord Malleus will go join the starts without ever hatching.

Episode 7-92

Baul: The only thing we’re certain of is this: if we fail to find a way to fix this, Lord Malleus will go join the starts without ever hatching.

Lilia: No…!

Baul: As the egg is accepting only a limited amount of magic at this point, Queen Maleficia has been pouring in several times the amount of magic needed to hatch him. But as she’s at an advanced age, it will be dangerous for her to keep this up for much longer. The Land of Briar-… Apologies, Briar Valley is in chaos right now, and we’re in a precipitous situation with the neighboring countries. The fate of our country rests on Her Majesty’s shoulders, and she can’t afford to tend to the egg 24/7.

Lilia: …Okay, and?

Baul: Sir Vanrouge, you were once renown as the Dragon’s Right Hand Man. And so I ask of you - please help us.

Lilia: Help you? The hell do you expect me to do? I was never anybody’s right hand man, I couldn’t even fulfill my duty. I’m just a good-for-nothing…. Just a “dirty little bat”.

Baul: I don’t care what anyone says, Her Majesty and I have faith in you. We’d like you to travel the world, and search for information on how to hatch dragon eggs.

Lilia: Travel the world… Does Briar Valley even have anything like passports we can use?

Baul: We do not. …Not official ones, at least.

Lilia: ….Ha, hahaha! Ahahahahaha! That’s rich, never thought I’d get to see the Queen act so reckless. Alright, so what’s in it for me?

Baul: Nothing… except… Do you recall our final audience with Lady Meleanor?

Lilia: Our final audience…

(Flashback)

Lilia: This egg won’t hatch without you!

Meleanor: Then you must hatch it for me.

Meleanor: And you loved Levan, too. You two, the General of the Right and the General of the Left, spent more time together than I did with my own husband. Of course you will love our child, just as you loved us.

(End flashback)

Lilia: “Then you must hatch it for me”….. *sigh* Why does everybody always gotto dump their problems onto me.

Baul: Does that mean you’ll….!

Lilia: I was just thinking about taking a little trip, actually. I’ll ask around about the egg while I’m gone. But that’s it, got it? Don’t expect I’ll be much help.

Baul: Of course. While you’re gone, we’ll keep trying to find a solution on our end. Safe travels… The night’s blessing upon ye.

(Baul departs)

Lilia: First things first, I need to find out where dragons live outside of Briar Valley. Then I can start my search there… *sigh* If we can’t hatch you before you join the stars, I already know your parents are gonna give me an earful when I get up there myself… So you better not kick the bucket while I’m gone… Malleus.

Episode 7-93

Silver: …So that’s the reason why father went traveling around the world. He was looking for a way to hatch Lord Malleus…

Sebek: Four hundred years ago, eh…‘Twas a time when prejudice against other species ran rampant. Doubtless ‘twas no pleasant journey.

Silver: …I wonder what happened while he was traveling?

Lilia: I heard there was a see-through dragon that pops up sometimes in the Shaftlands… But I doubt a dragon would live here, so close to humans.

Townsperson A: Hey, traveler! Come join on the fun! This festival only comes ‘round once a year.

Lilia: Sorry, I’m in a bit of a hurry. Ah, actually, have you heard about a dragon that lives around here?

Townsperson A: Dragon? No way, those things are just fairytales. Anyways, you don’t look so good. You feeling okay? You’re white as a ghost- Ah! T-Those pointy ears… Are you a fae…!?

Townsperson B: What!? They say the fae rule over the lands up north with an iron fist!

Townsperson C: M-Monsteeer!! Get away from us!

(The townspeople start throwing rocks at Lilia)

Lilia: A monster? You’re one to talk, human!

(Lilia starts charging up his magic, then stops)

Lilia: We’re just gonna look even worse if I cause any trouble… Dammit!

Maleficia’s Castle – Cradle Tower

Baul: How did your trip go, Sir Vanrouge?

Lilia: …I didn’t get any leads.

Baul: I see…

Lilia: How’s the egg doing?

Baul: Not much better, unfortunately. However… After you departed for your travels, he started accepting just a little bit more magic. Perhaps your parting words encouraged His Majesty.

Lilia: Don’t be ridiculous, it’s impossible to tell what babies are thinking. Long as he’s still alive, that’s what matters.

Baul: I’ve ordered everyone out of the tower. Would you like to go speak with him?

Lilia: I don’t see any reason why. Not like there’s anything I can do for him.

Baul: That’s not true. I’ve no doubt he’d be delighted just to hear your voice.

Lilia: …Fine, but only for a second…. Hey there, Malleus. Haven’t seen you in two years, just about. I was worried you’d go join the stars while I was gone… But I see you’re hanging in there just fine, yeah? I bet you must get bored just sleeping all the time. Here I’ll… I’ll tell you about my travels. I was just in the Shaftlands the other day. It ended up being a wild goose chase, so I… Ah, let me tell you a happier story. So this town I went to had this huge festival going on… There were restaurants and food stalls as far as the eye could see… I even got to try some goat’s milk cheese, and it was delicious. ….Is there any point telling you these stupid stories… I’ll be going down south next. Hopefully I can actually get some useful information this time. …See you, Malleus. Don’t kick the bucket while I’m gone.

Merchant: Dear traveler! Would you be interested in this magic lamp?

Lilia: Magic lamp?

Merchant: Indeed. If you rub this beautiful lamp here, a magic genie will appear and grant you three wishes. Amazing, isn’t it?

Lilia: He’ll grant my wish… So could he hatch a dragon egg, for example?

Merchant: A dragon… You mean those creatures from those old fairy tales? Why of course! I’m certain a genie could do that for you. Ah, well, this lamp is just a replica, so even if you rub it a genie won’t come out. So, you going to buy it or not?

Lilia: …No, I got enough luggage already.

Merchant: Well I think souvenirs are the real highlight of traveling, but okay. If you’re not going to buy anything, then scram. You’re getting in the way of my other customers.

Lilia: Fairy tales, huh. There’s still dragons alive today… So maybe the genie of the lamp is still out there somewhere. I’ll see if I can’t collect some more info while I’m here. Ugh, but the sunlight’s so strong in this country… *sigh*

Episode 7-94

Lilia: Hey there, Malleus. How’re you doing? Baul told me somedays you’ll accept magic, and somedays you won’t. But they can’t figure out any rhyme or reason to it. You’re too young to be this picky, you know. Your mother was an awful picky eater, I remember she gave the kitchen staff a lot of grief. Couldn’t you have picked a different quality of hers to take after? I’m sure Queen Maleficia’s just about fed up by now, too. …And I bet Meleanor’s up there laughing at us right now, seeing us run around all frazzled. Oh, and Levan. He always went around acting all prim and proper, but anytime he had to eat some vegetables he didn’t like, he’d hide them underneath the table cloth. I’m totally the opposite, though – I’ll eat just about anything, long as it fills my stomach. The three of you are the most bothersome family I’ll ever meet, I swear. …This time, I went to Scalding Sands. Humans are something else. In only ten years they built up their small villages into these huge cities, and it’s unbelievable how quickly their countries keep developing. For a pure blood fae like you, the world might just get harder and harder to live in as time goes on. …I’ll be leaving again soon. I’m sure I’ll find a way to hatch you this time. So until I get back, you better not…

Lilia (singing): Now sleep, sleep, my beloved child

I pray you’ll walk towards that light

That light that will guide you in your dreams…

Lilia: Haaa, haaah…. Legends say dragons lived in this valley… But this place is a ghost town. Maybe they relocated somewhere, or maybe they’re already… Dammit! It took me years to get here, but it was just another stupid goose chase. Isn’t there anything here that can give me any clues? I’ll ask the furniture and the carpeting if I have to. Just tell me, please! Tell me how to hatch a dragon egg! He’s been getting weaker and weaker all this time! I don’t care who or what… Just someone tell me! Please!!!

(magic starts building up)

Lilia: What’s going on? My magic’s flowing out of my fingertips by itself…! …. “Life is but a fleeting day, distance but an illusion.” Far Cry Cradle.

Lilia: Those visions just now… Was I seeing this castle’s past? ….Did my magic do that? I’ll try again… There! I can see it… It’s only just a little bit, but I can see the memories that were left behind here! Haha! Yes! With this spell, there’ll be so many new avenues I can take with my search. If I can peer into memories of the past… I’m sure I’ll find some clues on how to hatch dragon eggs…! I’ll find it, I know I will! I’ll find a way to hatch him!

Part 1

Part 3

#lilia vanrouge #baul zigvolt #sebek zigvolt #twst silver #twst book 7 #twst spoilers #twst #twisted wonderland #twst jp

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sin-sidejob · 1 year

Text

Nostalgia Max!Brett Hand x afab/fem!reader

note: NSFW, 18+, Minors DNI, pet names, afab anatomy but no talk of tits in an effort to stick close to gender neutral, dominant brett hand, breeding kink, daddy kink, mommy kink, unprotected sex (wrap that rascal), slight exhibitionism, slight public sex, domestication, housewife kink, cum play, no pronouns but use of gendered pet names like mommy & others like sweet thing, baby, sweetheart, and babydoll.

You got separated from the group once Brett lost control, everything getting immersed in a hazy, green blast. Nothing worked when trying to calm him down, deescalate the situation and keep everyone safe. It blew up in y’all’s faces, literally. Waking up against rubble and debris, not seeing where you landed or where you are, you’re nervous.

There’s no modern tech on you and you’ve got no way to reach Reagan or Andre, get in touch with Gigi or Glenn or Myc. You’re absolutely alone until they find you. Or Brett finds you.

The two of you had been dating for a while, and you’re endlessly in love with him. Tirelessly and hopelessly in love with him. Brett’s a sweetheart and nothing but doting and kind to you, and he’s in therapy. How lucky are you?

Not as much now that he’s not himself and currently lethal, leveling several structures and sending you and your coworkers flying in different directions and under the influence of heavy chemtrails and 80’s nostalgia.

Your footsteps are tentative, wary of the unsteady rubble you walk upon and try to breathe through your shirt, pulled over your nose and squint through the dust in the air. There’s not much light, it’s dark out and nighttime. The cold seeps in more and that fear of being alone and vulnerable at night starts to sink in and soak your bones.

No weapons on your person, rendered useless and defenseless without any of your gear or comrades, it’s safe to say you’re terrified beyond all belief. Walking softly, slowly turning over chunks of masonry and debris to walk better and find a way out of the barely standing structure you find yourself in.

Moments pass and you try to think of other things like what you’ll do when you get home, if that show released it’s second part yet so you can stream it soon, and attempt pathetically to calm yourself. It’s not working.

You hear footsteps and you freeze, your body pressed to a wall and trying your best to hide in the looming shadows encompassing the formerly standing building. Pinpricks crawl up your neck and stand at the nape of your neck and across your arms. Your heartbeat has never seemed louder.

“Oh sweetheart, don’t you want to see me?”

it’s Brett, and you don’t see him but you hear him, can’t decipher where he is in relation to you from his voice, anywhere a possibility you don’t want to explore. Crawling up in a ball and shutting your eyes would be better, shutting the world out and forcing yourself to wake up from such a terrible dream.

But the sight of candy apple green eyes tears that hope from your lungs when you shudder, never expecting yourself to be afraid of him. The fear isn’t even about Brett, it’s about the limitless possibilities and outcomes of what could happen. He’s drenched so heavily in chemtrails it must be like standing too long near Chernobyl.

Feels so wrong.

“Why aren’t you talking to me? Did I hurt you?” He sounds like the Brett you love, and you’re worried he knows that, using that to get to you. He hasn’t spotted you yet, walking around and you press yourself into the brick behind you, wishing you could just disappear, dissolve into nothingness so it would all go away.

You don’t mean to, but your ankle nearly buckles isn’t the awkward position you are standing in. The sound is tinny in the darkness and silence of the rubble and his reaction is instant, eyes on you under a second.

“There you are!” Brett’s words would be endearing in any other circumstance, and he approaches. His hair isn’t as floaty anymore, but it still shifts unnaturally, like seaweed in an ocean current midair around his head in an unearthly halo. Eyes are bright green but less painfully neon and now more of a muted acid hue. You miss his eyes. “Was worried about you, baby, you sure you’re okay?” He dotes, nearly mirroring your brett as he cups your cheek.

When did he get closer?

“You seem fine, just shook up. Poor thing.” Brett coos, smiling down at you childishly in his usual manner but everything seems so unsettling, like his persona got dunked into a murky pool of liquid from a backalley at 3am. Unnatural and unsafe.

“Hey, c’mon sweet thing, talk to me.” He prods, raising your face up with his hand on your cheek and you oblige, looking up at him with fretful eyes that he frowns at. Your hands clench and fidget at your sides, entirely too overwhelmed but still needing to do something.

And it’s him in there. It’s still Brett. Just doused in chemtrails, no big deal.

“Hi Brett.”

He laughs, a giggling little sound that is usually very fitting but now a bit surreal in his current state. It remind you of glow sticks the way he shines out. You don’t like it.

“Hey there yourself,” he chimes, taking his hand in yours and squeezing, before he nearly lets it fall, his expression falling with it, “out with it, what’s wrong? You’re not smiling.”

“I don’t smile all the time.” Comes your immediate response and he clicks his tongue, brows furrowing and you regret not filtering your thoughts from words. “You don’t, but you smile around me. Tell me why.”

“Brett-“

He backs you up against the brick, looming a bit overhead and a part of it gets your bones staticky, indecisive in whether or not you wanted to kiss him or kick him.

“Use your words well and tell me why, or I’ll make another use for mouth.”

You gape, body choosing for you on the kiss him option and let him come closer, him murmuring between your lips as he closes in and cages you against his form and the shadowy enclave of the brick. “Good choice.”

Brett is all around you, a hand at the nape of your neck soothing and smoothing down the pinpricks while the other is at your side, kissing at you impatiently until he bites, humming in a pleased note when your mouth opens up and he ventures in, playing with your tongue as his hand ventures beneath your shirt, untucking it.

“Going to continue to be good for me?” He asks in your ear after breaking for a breath, marking up your throat and the underside of your jaw in bites as you squirm, the former unease in your belly turning fuzzy and warm, turning the danger into something attractive than daunting.

You nod and he squeezes tight at your hip, a warning and you answer aloud, “yes sir,” him rewarding you with a softer touch and undoing your pants as he takes them off. “Sir?” Brett laughs, shaking his head and his hair floats still, hovering like your waning rationale.

“You can do better than that. You know what to call me.”

Brett’s hand snakes between your legs and ghosts over your underwear, him practically beaming when he feels the pooling slick soaking through. “Yes Daddy.”

His eyelids flutter a fraction and ministrations falter, coming back and his eyes burn brighter and his grin in sardonic, a bit twisted. That reminder of don’t trust, don’t tell.

“Ohh that’s a new one, we’re keeping that, right baby?” He asks, plunging a digit into your cunt and holding a leg up around his hip, your chest covered and safe from the cold but waist and below is another story, trying to feed off the unnatural warmth he emanates now. “Mhmm.”

“There’s my sweet thing, smiling, all you needed was some lovin’ huh?” He asks, more to himself and aloud than anything as he preps you with his fingers, hearing the squelch and growing tired of having to angle his wrist a certain way. He tears the underwear apart.

“Just needed someone to play with your pussy and turn your brain off, right?” Brett prompts a moan from you as he breaches a second finger in and his thumb rolls over your clit, warmth flooding everywhere and your eyes flutter open to see him staring you down behind lidded eyes, glowing green deeper now that reminds you of that light at the end of Daisy’s dock in that Fitzgerald novel.

It kinda’ is a welcome home light. And you go to it.

Your hand threads through his hair and smashes his lips to yours as he groans darkly into your open mouth, excited and eager hands shift your legs around his then busy themselves with his belt buckle, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing which he more than notices. Whimpering as he tugs at your lip, he peers down at you while he lets his belt open.

“Easy f’me babydoll, daddy’s going to take care of you.”

It sounds so good in this voice, all gravelly this time ‘round and the difference sells the experience, and the way he’s shifted, using the weight he carries and taking up space rather than weaving his way through it.

“Need you daddy.” You whine, feeling his thumb over your clit rolling circles that get you throbbing, squirming between him and the brick wall behind you.

“Patience, baby, I’ve got you.” Brett drawls, nudging your nose with his as he frees his dick from the confines of his briefs and Levi’s, bobbing in the space between your legs and looking so damn good you could’ve eaten it.

Another time.

“This pretty cunt gonna’ take it all you think?” He muses into the column of your throat before angling his head against you so he can see between the two of you, one hand holding your thigh up and parting it wide while the other fists his already drooling dick in his palm, pearlescent droplets of precum pooling at the tip. “Gonna’ be good for me?”

You nod, smiling blearily in a dopey grin and run your hands over the back of his letterman jacket, and into his hair while the other slides down to lift underneath his shirt, wanting to feel him whenever you could.

He breaches your walls in a single movement and you whimper, head landing back against the brick and hear him grunt, deep from his chest as he bottoms out in you. Brett’s head hangs for a moment before he looks back to you, eyes staring from beneath his full lashes and still having that unnatural green.

“Just knew this little pussy would take it.” He mutters and snaps his hips back, hands moving to cup your ass and bring you closer so he can thrust back and forth in a punishing, cervix-bruising pace. God, you’d feel him for days.

You didn’t mean to say it out loud but he hears it nonetheless, grinning against your temple while he fucks you like a ragdoll, “that’s right, gonna shape this cute little cunt until it’s molded around my cock, gonna’ be my little toy, right? Let me play with you?”

Moaning behind kiss swollen and puffy lips, you affirm his statement and thrust your hips back into his, sending a reverberating groan through his throat out that turns into a dark chuckle, his pace slowing a fraction only to move forth harsher, the sound of skin and your debauched moans painfully loud within the silence of the destroyed structure.

“Gonna’ keep us here, you and I,” Brett begins to ramble, punctuating his words with snaps of his hips that get you seeing stars, “gonna’ breed this little cunt and get a family from you, stay here happy for the rest of our lives.”

“You going to let me give you a child, sweet thing?”

“Mhmm.” You whine, clutching at him and grinding down on his dick, a pathetic mess of yourself with slick smeared between your thighs, “Gonna’ make you a daddy.” Brett groans aloud and rewards you with a hand moving from under your thigh to your clit once more, pressing in those rolling ministrations that get you clenching awfully hard.

“Wanna’ cum Brett — I need it.” You’re rambling at this point, incoherent and cockdrunk as he plunges in and out of you, nothing but sex on the brain and none of the ramifications. It would be your problem another day, another moment, but for right now it was everything.

“Need what baby? Gotta’ speak, got that pretty voice of yours — make it useful.”

“Want your cum, wanna’ stay here with you and let you knock me up over ‘n over,” you’re spitting out words as fast as they form because you’ve barely got the headspace for anything else but cumming on his dick, “get pregnant and have your baby, make you a daddy — please lemme’ make you a family.”

He whines in the back of his throat as he bites at your neck, your words hitting deep somewhere in him and loses his even pace in lieu of fucking you frantically, practically jumping your form with how desperate he is to flood your cunt. Brett’s hand still rolls it’s thumb over your pulsing, sensitive clit.

“God yes, make a little mommy out of you, see you get all swollen and round with leaking tits to feed our kids — fuck,” he’s speaking to you in equal to the wind, voicing aloud not just his plans but his dreams, wishes to have a life with you, “cum f’me baby, gush around this cock then I’ll give you what you want.”

you mewl, squirming and bucking while chasing that high that already has begun to sprawl like white-hot lightning in your bones, curling and pooling within your belly, feeling Brett slide in and out while he punches the breath from you while prodding at your cervix.

“Gonna’- I’m going to, fuck fuckk.” Brett snaps his hips in whip-fast motions once, twice, and you’re gone. Everything whites over and fades into blank noise, like getting submerged in bath water as you shake and shudder, taking him in as he fucks you through it, suspended only by his hold.

“Fuck, you look so p-pretty,” he stutters just like his pace, falling frantic in how he chases his orgasm after yours, Brett crumbling as he finally cums and floods your cunt, slick smeared between the both of you all over your thighs and lower abdomens, white ropes and rivulets accompanying your arousal. Brett snarls out your name in a broken groan against your collar, voice deep.

He bucks his hips and mutters nonsense into your ear, milking every last drop into your silken cunt and more, “cant wait to see you all knocked up, gonna’ make you a mommy. Swear.” You’re barely conscious enough to process his words, but you do, whimpering and squirming against him in pleased, soft tones as you still have your eyes shut tight, toes curled and feeling absolutely cloudy and airy — breathless.

Brett eventually finishes emptying himself inside of you, sticking close and keeping you on his cock as you come down from your highs and blink blearily back into reality. Shifting, causing you both to groan, you reach out and smooth his hair back and get him to look at you, green glow now gone and fucked out of him as he stares up at you back to himself.

“Hi Brett.” You murmur once again, this time feeling much better about him and his safety. His arms coil around your waist as he burrows into your neck, doting kisses across your skin and soothing the burn and bite of his marks.

“Hey honey.” Brett murmurs, sleepy and lethargic now and you smooth a hand through his hair, scratching idly and getting him groaning happily against you as your other hand rubs across his back and the rough fabric of his jacket he still had on.

“Ready to get out of here?” He nods against you in response and helps you stand, soft moans and sighs passing as he slips out and you feel cum slip forth from your overfilled cunt onto your thighs. Hurriedly getting redressed, sans your tattered panties, you stand before one another and he tries to apologize but you shake your head, cupping his cheek and saying you enjoyed it.

“Hey Brett?” You ask later on, walking hand in hand back with the group on the way to Cognito Inc after regrouping. “Yeah?”

You grin, beaming at him, squeezing his hand.

“Wanna’ do that again sometime?”

He opens and closes his mouth, giggling for a second before turning back to looking at you, squeezing your hand back while his other thumbs the velvet box in his jacket pocket.

“Absolutely.”

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theprettynosferatu · 6 months

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Unit Commander John Heinlein was a simple man. Above all, he valued order. Order kept the world safe, functional, understandable. Everyone and everything had its proper place and proper role: like different organs in a body, they all contributed to the overall health of society as long as they did what they were supposed to do and didn’t get any stupid ideas. In that gigantic body, John Heinlen was a fist, and stupid ideas were what he punched into oblivion. Reality was simple, and if it wasn’t, the higher-ups pointed him to the complication and he pummeled it back into simplicity.

As usual, intelligence was spotty. Why exactly this club was a Stupid Idea, John did not know nor did he care. What the informant had revealed was something about women going against their conditioning, although they had not revealed how or why. It seemed patently ridiculous to John Heinlein. Conditioned women were happy, and they made their men happy. Simple, proper. Everything in its natural place. If Fulgrim’s was messing with that, it deserved to be squashed.

Looking at the rest of the Unit, he felt sending them was perhaps a waste of resources. If the informant was correct, they would be facing women and whatever deviants might be attending off-hours, if any; but it was not his call to make, and he liked it that way. His purpose was to punch, not to decide who deserved to be punched.

The six men stood in front of the gaudy purple door. As much as he wanted to kick the door down and be done with it, John played it by the book. He made the signal to place the breaching device and got into the correct position, ingrained in him by hundreds of hours of training. Still, no matter how many times the device blasted the door open, John always felt underwhelmed. Part of him seemed to expect a big thunderous sound, instead of the measured, barely audible “pop” designed not to alert the criminals.

Like a perfect machine, they went in, weapons ready. They were all running on autopilot, relying on their modified genetics and exhaustive drilling. It took only a few seconds for them to reach the same, obvious conclusion. No threats present. Instead, two women stood by the door, as if expecting them. John felt a deep revulsion, something primal stirring within him. It was wrong.

The women weren’t blonde. They weren’t smiling. They didn’t seem pleasant, or demure, or bubbly. In fact, they looked like wolves on the prowl. One had blood-red hair, a leather corset, fishnet stockings and boots that ended in the sort of spiked heels that could kill a man. The other was, to John Heinlein, even worse. She seemed shy, wearing a short skirt and trying to cover up… but her eyes spoke of a deep hunger, a devious intelligence and a depraved longing he couldn’t quite place.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re here!” said the redhead with mock gratitude. “You see, I’ve been trying to train this sweet little creature right here…” she added as her hand went under the other girl’s skirt. “But I’m afraid she needs a bit of… male guidance. A strong hand to show her the way”

John frowned. There was something strange in the air. A subtle smell he couldn’t fully detect. As he turned to ask his comrades about it, he noticed Johnson shifting his weight slightly. It was a small thing, but utterly out of place for a man of their training. And he could tell the women saw it too. Slowly, seductively the redhead walked toward Johnson, leading the other girl by her wrist. It was surreal, unsettling. But they couldn’t just open fire on females.

“Johnson, step away from the females, now!”, barked Commander Heinlein.

For the first time in his illustrious career, the Commander’s order went unheeded. He watched in horror as the petite woman placed a slender hand on the soldier’s chest and, with a look designed to melt hearts and break down barriers at the same time, pouted like a mischievous child.

“Please, Sir. I’ve been bad. So, so bad… Won’t you teach me? I’m a very good learner… if I’m put in my place”

Meanwhile, the woman in the spiked heels had gone around Johnson, and whispered in his ear as her hand caressed his perfectly sculpted abs and kept moving downwards…

“She can be so good… we both can be so good… but are you man enough to show us you can handle us? Tame us? Mold us into your perfect good girls?”

Johnson was breathing heavily, paralyzed by a million conflicting impulses. He had a job to do. He was a soldier. He was…

And just then, he broke. Johnson grabbed the smaller woman by the neck, and in a swift movement turned her around and bent her over. He couldn’t see the devilish smile on her face, but John Henlein sure did. There was victory in that lustful look, a triumph only magnified when, cock hard as metal, Johnson railed her from behind as hard as he possibly could, his mind gone in a frenzy of half-formed sentences and grunts, the redhead woman rubbing her pussy as she now shouted encouragement.

“Do it! Pound that little slut! Show her what she really is! Fucking break her like the stupid fuckdoll she dresses as! Punish that pussy with your cock! Make her scream for me… make her beg! Make. Her. Yours!”

“Johnson!”, shouted Heinlein in vain. The soldier was gone, and all that remained was a beast, a bundle of muscles determined to conquer the females before it, to claim them and mark them as his. And worse, whoever was behind it all remained unseen, deeper inside the club.

“Fuck! Everyone else! On me! We press on!”

“What about Johnson?”, asked a rookie soldier by the name of Phillips.

“We lost him! Now, move!”

They stormed the place, kicking down doors- no time to play it straight, as much as it pained Unit Commander John Heinlein, for whom standard procedure was akin to a biblical dogma. With every hallway they crossed, every room they breached, the air seemed to get heavier, denser somehow. Sweeter, perhaps.

They entered a room covered in black velvet. It caused a strange effect, almost as if the walls themselves devoured the light. And there, sitting in the middle of the room, long legs crossed, was another female. Like the ones before, she didn’t look like the blonde, obedient women that had undergone the mandatory conditioning. Horror gripped Heinlein. This person went against every conceivable notion of what a woman should be. Clad in a leather corset and thigh-high boots, she stared the five soldiers down with a look of disgust and clear disapproval. Even the sight of their guns was to her just another gauche shortcoming, one in a very long list of inadequacies clamored without words by her deep, green eyes.

“Did I say you could come in?”, she asked.

The question was ridiculous. They were Soldiers. They didn’t ask, they acted. And yet, two of Heinlein’s men started moving their heads, something between shaking off a creeping mental fog and answering the woman’s question. No, she had not said they could come in.

“Get on the ground, and-” started barking Heinlein before the woman cut him off.

“No. it’s not your turn to speak. You don’t talk unless I tell you to, is that clear?”

Unit Commander Heinlein froze. Her tone, firm, in total control, was something he recognized very well. For a moment he was a raw recruit again, undergoing basic training. A part of him, a part of all Soldiers knew to obey that sort of utterance, that confident command. It was part of the crucial training that made any warrior more than a brawler. It was the core of discipline. He knew, at that moment, they were all in grave danger.

“Now, that sort of rude entrance needs to be punished. You all know it, don’t you my toys? But I’ll be kind…ish. How about you start by being a pack of good dogs and kneel?”

Heinlein felt his legs almost give in. He managed to stay on his feet… barely. He watched as most of his squad went on their knees, their eyes wide, fixed on that beautiful woman, seeking every ounce of validation she could give them. Ready to obey.

“Crawl to me, pets”

They did. With a few words, she had made them love her. Adore her. Obey her. Their sense of duty twisted, molded, corrupted. And Heinlein felt himself wanting to join them, wanting so badly to be one of her favorite pets… no, her very favorite. The alpha of the pack. Perfect for her. Obedient for her.

It took a superhuman effort to turn away from her perfect silhouette, her beckoning curves, her voice of absolute command and dominion. The last thing he saw before sprinting away from that goddess of a woman was his once proud squad almost fighting like dogs for the privilege of kissing her heels. How he hated the fact that he wanted to join them…

He tried to push it all away as he ran through hallways, deeper into the club, down stairs, through room after room. Deeper and deeper… the air getting heavier and sweeter… his mind getting fuzzier…

How long did he run? How deep did he go? He couldn’t tell. Different themes passed him by like a blur, and he felt almost as if he was just running in place, the facility moving around him, assaulting him with perverted ideas, digesting him like some monstrous organism designed to destroy everything that was right and natural in the world… but he couldn’t stop. He wouldn’t. Stopping, he felt, would mean the end.

And then, he stopped.

The woman looked like no one he had ever seen. Every part of her seemed designed to short-circuit his understanding of reality, his very core, and he found himself frozen before her, his brain trying to catch up to what his eyes were seeing. She looked like something out of some strange, fae world: she wore her hair in dancing ponytails, one dyed blue, one pink. Her makeup was a striking mixture of neon colors punctuated by tiny drawn hearts scattered over a face that spoke at once of innocence and mischief. She had a single fishnet glove on, mismatched thigh-high socks, a pink and black nighty that hovered between dark and slutty and the most pure chastity… Even her eyes, he noticed, refused to follow any notion of order: one was a deep blue, while the other was an inhuman, alluring red. She was something he couldn’t comprehend, and yet couldn’t stop watching. She moved with a strange liquid freedom, as if gravity and anatomy were vague suggestions she very much didn’t intend to follow. And her smile… he couldn’t quite place what it was: it was joyful, yes, but also shy and yet it had a hint of a predator somewhere deep inside it…

“Oh, hi!” she chirped and bounced out of her purple sofa. “I was fingering myself!” she declared, almost with pride.

Unit Commander Heinlein found himself unable to respond. This… being was not a woman. Not as he understood them, at least. And yet he could feel something stirring inside, something he had forgotten about long, long ago…

“Who are you?”, she asked, her face becoming almost a caricature of confusion before snapping back into a jubilant smile. “I’m Alara! Nice to meet you!”

She ran to him. Normally such an action would call for tactical evasion, or a well-practiced takedown. Instead, Heinlein found himself frozen in place as the girl hugged him. She smelled sweet, like the air around them.

“Are you okay, dude?”, she asked with a look of genuine concern.

“I… this establishment has been deemed… unsuitable and against the… proper conditioning of females… get on the ground, and…”

“Ooooh, the ground? I can go to the ground for you, Daddy! Or do you prefer Sir? Or Joe? You know what? Joe it is! Is your name Joe? You look like a Joe to me. So, the ground! Ass up? Or maybe on my back, legs open? Which one do you want, Joe?”

Heinlein, whose first name was most certainly not Joe, watched as the girl seemed to flow from one pose to another: one second she was on all fours, looking over her shoulder with an inviting smile; the next she was on her back, legs open, her eyes shocked like a virgin about to feel a man inside her for the very first time… then she bounced back to her feet and pouted.

“Come on, Joe, make up your mind! Or do you want me to take charge? Wait! I should have it… here!”. The girl beamed, brandishing a gigantic, double-sided dildo. “Want me to use this on you, Joe? Come on, give me a little something to work with here!”

“Please stay still. Do you understand the situation? You have been… altered. You’re not a normal…”

“Normal? Normal?! Joe, how boring are you? Seriously, how many times can you fuck a blonde big-titty bimbo before it gets so fucking samey? Fuck ‘normal’, Joe! Let your freaky self out to play for once!”

“I do not have a freaky self”

Alara tripped on her own legs and landed sprawled on the carpeted ground before shooting Heinlein a look that might as well have been directed at a two-headed alien, before turning into an expression of pure, profound pity.

“Oh, Joe… of course you do! We all have our freaky sides… don’t think for a second they’ve drilled yours completely dead. It’s there… I can feel it. And so can you, can’t you? Growing inside you. Getting stronger. Don’t you get tired of following orders? Of everything being always in the same place? Of loving the same woman? The world isn’t like that, Joe! People aren’t like that! We are insane, contradictory, fucking twisted messes… and that’s perfect! Come on, Joe… don’t you ever think about doing… the wrong thing?”

Her words dripped inside his head like honey, so much so that he didn’t notice her approaching him, rubbing him through his pants as she playfully made him so confused, so mixed up, so fuzzy and…

“Mmmm… tell me Joe… what’s that thing you’d like to do, that wrong, wrong thing you dream of in the dark, swearing to yourself you’ll never say a word of it?”

“Non-regulation shoes”

His mouth had spoken before his brain had even registered it.

“Oh, don’t like the uniform shoes?”, she teased.

“Uncomfortable”, he mumbled.

“So… why don’t you take them off?”

“On mission. Tactical shoes. Reinforced. Useful”

“Are you going to tactically kick me, Joe? Of course not! No one would kick pretty little me… well, unless I asked… but not with those shoes! Who’s gonna know, Joe? No one’s gonna spank you for letting your feet out for a bit! So… take them off!”

“Can’t. On a mission”

“Oh, for fuck’s- come here, you big dummy”

Alara lunged for his shoes, and made a big show of pulling with all her might. Heinlein watched her, entranced.

“A little help here, Joe? These fucking things are tighter than your ass! I mean, I’m just guessing there”

He moved as if in a dream. He released the lock on one boot, then the other. Alara flew back, boot in hand, before jumping up, holding the black boot in the air like a trophy.

“Victory! Look, Joe! You have one boot off and the world hasn’t ended!”

It was true. He looked down at his feet. He had gone against standard procedure. In fact, he had flat-out broken a strict, simple rule. No one was screaming at him. Nothing bad had happened. If anything, he was overcome by childish elation. Suddenly, his world had shifted. Rules were words. Only that. No more solid than millions of other words spoken every single day.

“Sooooo? How do you feel, you rebel?”

“It’s… good”

Alara smiled and bent over.

“I’m guessing there’s a rule against using a suspect as a living fleshlight, isn’t there? A rule against pounding pussy when on a mission? A rule against using little me as your own personal, depraved fuckdoll?”

“There are many such rules”

“And how do you feel about them now?”

“I don’t give a fuck”

Her screams of ecstasy echoes through the entire club. She pushed him further, and he only growled and, for once, did exactly as he pleased. Alara could only cum, and cum again in victory. Every act was a testament to her triumph. He used her throat, not caring if she gagged, if she choked. He slapped her face and she laughed. He spit on her mouth, grabbed her neck, took her tight asshole. He came once deep inside her, but it wasn’t enough. Alara knew the aphrodisiac in the air gave some… special endurance as well, and she intended to see exactly how long they could go.

By the end her clothes had been ripped off her, her tits were covered in cum, her pussy pumped full three times, her ass abused, her buttocks red with spankings, her makeup ruined. And by the end, he had become anything but a Soldier.

The following day a meeting was called at the highest levels of the government. An elite unit had gone into Fulgrim’s, never to return.

They would have to take drastic measures if they hoped to contain the corruption now growing in their city.

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