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auspicioustidings · 6 months

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Savage

Summary: Request for some Scottish warrior Soap taking an English maiden as a prize.

Words: 3.7k

CWs: Violent non-con (I am so serious, do not ready this if it's not your thing), hardcore smut

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Authors Note: This is very much a rape fantasy. Traditionally rape fantasies have historical grounding in minorities who felt ashamed of their own desires so had to fantasise a situation in which they were blameless for engaging in a stigmatised action because it was forced. It’s sort of where a lot of the noncon trope in bodice rippers comes from because women in unhappy marriages need a fantasy in which they can get rid of the shame for wanting passionate or rough sex because they imagine they fought against it. A lot more people have rape fantasies than people generally realise and truly a miniscule barely there number of them would ever think it was ok to actually assault someone. All that to say, this is not me condoning anything in real life. If you find fantasies like this don’t do it for you, then do not read it, but don’t then shame people who do. There is psychology behind why people fantasise about these things, it’s pretty normal and you don’t need to be worried that it is some moral failing. Mind your business.

It was a miraculously good match for you, a high ranking soldier of the King’s army. You were technically of noble blood, but just barely. You lived simply, not in a large house but in a small village where you held no sway over anyone else and were treated as common. But the village was close to the border between England and Scotland and every day it became more tense as whispers of raids from villages to the West skittered between houses like rats.

You didn’t know how your uncle had made arrangements for this beneficial marriage for you, but it would get you moving South in a few days time to marry and then you would finally be able to relax with this war much further away from you. You had heard horror stories of what happened to young maidens when savages came pillaging. They said that they didn’t wear anything under those kilts, they said it was to make it easy to bury their cocks in any hot hole they could find. They said they didn’t have any tame qualities, not like the English. Scottish men were feral, the comparison to dogs not holding water because at least dogs could be trained.

When you retreated to bed you got on your knees to say your prayers. As always you had to beg forgiveness for the licentious thoughts that sent thrills straight to your cunt whenever you thought about the images all those rumours put in your head.

–

The noise of chaos woke you in a panic, heart hammering against your ribcage as the smell of smoke drifted on the air and war cries sounded. You recognised your own kinfolk of course, the battalion of soldiers stationed here to keep eyes on the border. But it was the cries of those animals from the country to the North that sent you scrambling out of bed in only your chemise, knowing you had to run and hide before they could see you.

You slipped out of the bedroom, a frightened little rabbit looking for a burrow to hop into. The smell of smoke was stronger in the main room and you could see the orange glow of flames through the window. Going outside would be a risk, but hiding in here may get you burned to a crisp should this building be lit up. You did not have time to make the decision as the door burst off of its hinges, a muscular man in a blood spattered kilt with a warrior's mohawk and wild eyes panting like a dog as he caught sight of you.

You were frozen, unable to even breathe. And then after a beat his mouth stretched into a horrid manic grin as he bounded towards you. That finally shifted you from freeze to flight as you scrambled back through to the bedroom, trying to get to the small window. You threw the top half of your body through the gap but his rough hands grabbed your naked ankles and yanked you back, hard. You felt the chemise catch on the window frame, the fabric bunching up to completely expose you to him before he let go of your ankles letting you crash to the ground.

Your knees throbbed from the hard floor and by the time you were trying to crawl away he had his hand in your hair, brutally pulling your head up and craning it to look at him leaning over and getting into your face.

“Hear I have a wee noble bitch on my hands.”

Of course he would know. There were families here who would tell them anything to save themselves and pointing them in the direction of a noble maiden, one who was betrothed to an English soldier at that, would certainly be information that could spare them. The shouts outside sounded more heavily weighted towards those in his own gruff and growling accent now. The English soldiers were losing.

“I-I don’t know what you are talking about ser” you cried gently, not knowing how else to save yourself.

“Bonnie words” he growled, pulling so sharply at your hair that you thought your scalp might be bleeding and using his other hand to grope meanly at one of your breasts through the rough fabric of your nightwear.

You cried out, feeling the tears immediately spill over and stream down your face. He was so strong, you could barely budge against his hold, and he reeked of blood and fire and sweat and hot arousal. You squeezed your eyes shut and he only growled at you.

“Ye’ll keep those eyes open, yer going tae watch yer wee English cunt take me like a whore or I’ll take yer tight arse instead.”

You choked on a sob and opened your eyes, seeing that his were full of sick glee and heat. The hand groping at your tits moved under the chemise to cup roughly at your sex and he pulled you to your feet by that hand. You screamed at how it felt as he abused you with his hand, grinding the heel against you. You felt a hot flood of bitter shame as he swiped a finger violently through your folds. What he found there made him pause for a moment, his face lighting up in unrestrained glee.

“Fucking English slut. Y’er dripping.”

You had heard women who said it would be better to be wet if they were to be taken against their will. You did not agree. Him knowing that your traitorous body found his rough abuse of it arousing was so humiliating you felt you would rather die. He was so oppressive in his demeanour, so big and aggressive above you that you imagined he may break your bed with what he was about to do to you. How foolish of you to think he would have that level of mercy.

“Going tae show all those bastards how their women take Scottish cock” he laughed, spearing two fingers inside you to their full length with no softness at all and pulling you by them.

You could not breathe. You had never had anything inside you and those two fat fingers felt like they were stretching you so much you would tear. He walked backwards so he could keep them firmly inside you and you stumbled pathetically after him, needing to keep as close to him as possible to stop the painful press against your walls that came from him pulling if you did not move.

The shame was overwhelming as you emerged, full of his fingers and stumbling after him with tears streaming down your face, to find that your country's soldiers had been defeated with the survivors on their knees, hands bound. You were being paraded in front of them you realised, they had been put right here in the town square so they could bear witness, the Scottish soldiers standing behind them feral and full of lust as they took in their leader pulling you in front of them by the cunt.

When he ripped his fingers out of you, your knees buckled and a high whine left you. You had went from feeling too full to feeling far, far too empty. You could barely hear anything but the blood rushing through you as your heart hammered. That and him as he taunted the soldiers on their knees.

“Our women would ne’er let ye touch them, they’d die first. Yer clean wee English princess on the ither hand?” he said, planting a booted foot to your chest and pushing until he had you pinned on your back underfoot, “she’s gagging fir it. Foaming at the gusset tae take strong Scottish cock, put a real warrior in her belly.”

His own men cheered at that and you watched on with horror as he cocked his head at one of them and he began to approach you.

“Naw a monster though am I my wee slut? Ye’d be wet enough fir one of their small English cocks nae doubt, but fir mine? Going tae need something to help me sink in good and deep.”

The other soldier went to his knees between your legs and you watched as he pulled his throbbing cock from under his kilt, jerking it violently. You tried to move away, his cock so close you could feel the heat of it between your legs, but the boot on your chest held you still. When you tried to close your legs the man touching himself used his other hand to wrench one of your knees until it was touching the ground, using his own knees between your thighs to help him keep your glistening cunt fully on display.

When the head of his cock stroked through your folks, slicking you with his pre-cum and bumping at your clit, you were so overwhelmed that you didn’t quite manage to bite back your moan. They laughed meanly at you as the man found his release, spurting hot cum all over your pussy, smacking his cock against your stomach when he was done to shake off the last drops.

It was filthy, you felt sticky and like you were on fire. The next soldier took his place and spat right on your already disgusting cunt as he began to stroke himself. By the time he had painted you with his seed and the third was started, the man above pressed his foot harder to get your attention and all you could do was stare up into his taunting eyes, trying to focus on him so you could not think of what was going on between your legs. You cried up at him, trying to find any level of sympathy in him.

“Keep crying and I’ll gie ye something tae cry about princess.”

Oh you hated him calling you that when you were pinned down in the dirt, defeated soldiers of your country watching as their enemies smeared their cum all over your exposed body. Watching as they made a sloppy mess out of you in preparation for their leader to shove his cock deep inside and pump you full of his savage children.

You did not know how long you stared up at him, not able to look away as you felt the heat of his men on your body, your own body getting hotter and hotter with each slide of velvety throbbing skin against your own. He had started to talk to you, his eyes not budging. It wasn’t the defeated soldiers he was taunting, it was you, ruined and disgraced under his boot.

“See how good I am tae ye little whore? Letting my men make ye flush wi pleasure. Don’t deny it, think I cannae see yer face whenever ye feel a cock on that wee untouched pussy? Like a fucking bitch in heat. I’ll fuck ye like one. Get ye on yer hands and knees so ye can look yer precious King’s soldiers in the eye when ye fall apart on my cock. When ye’r fucking begging for my cum. Wilnae even have tae dae any work, ye’ll be fucking yourself back on me ye needy slut.”

You shook your head in horror at his claims, the true fear being that he would make them true. Already you felt in a daze, felt empty and desperate. But you felt fear as well as he put his arm under his kilt, rucking the fabric up to grab at his cock. It was huge and you found yourself panicked and squirming as the last of his soldiers grunted and slapped the meat of your thigh to get you to stay still. You were rambling incoherently as the man above stroked slowly at himself, causing that thick weapon between his legs to throb and seem even bigger.

“It won’t fit, it’s not going to fit, please I’ll die, you’ll split me open. It’s so big no no I can’t, I can’t!”

You didn’t even feel the last of his soldier’s loads splatter onto you, didn’t notice when his hands left your flesh. You would have rapidly purpling skin in the shape of fingerprints all over your thighs from how you had been held still by all of them, but you could not feel the dull pain of it through your fear of what was to come.

“Ye’ll take whit I gie ye and ye’ll fucking thank me princess.”

He removed his foot and it was only then you realised that he had been pressing down hard enough that your breaths had been shallow. The rush of oxygen from being able to fully expand your lungs again made you horribly dizzy, but it also flooded right down to your clit and made your body jerk violently with the sensation.

He didn’t take his hand from his cock and he bent so he could use the other to grab your ruined hair again, yanking your head up and shoving himself into your mouth. You choked, legs scrambling to get underneath you to give you some stability with which to batter your fists against his thighs, trying to pull away. He laughed meanly at your attempts, moving the hand that was touching himself to join the one tangled in your hair on the back of your head and pulling your head at the same time as he thrust forward, settling himself fully in your throat.

You were gagging around him, tears really streaming down your face now as you begged him with your eyes to let you breathe. He held you there, his own eyes glittering with satisfaction, until your muscles started to give in and you felt your eyes dropping closed as your brain became cottony. Then all at once he pulled you off and you were gulping in oxygen around your coughing and sputtering, the rush much more intense this time.

He held your head tilted up at him so he could watch your face as he shoved his boot between your legs and got you over the edge. Oh weren’t you a delicious little thing for him, getting off so hard on how he used you, moaning shakily and wantonly in the dirt beneath him in front of his triumphant soldiers and your defeated ones.

“Good fucking girl” he growled with a feral grin, letting you ride it out with little aborted thrusts on his boot, unable to control your body.

You looked gone, eyes glazed and body slack. Couldn’t have that, he needed you screaming for him. He needed your blood fighting between being frozen with terror and boiling with need. And he needed you full of him, needed to be able to feel his own cock through your stomach so fucking clearly that he could jerk it.

You were thrown forward, top half of your body collapsing pathetically into the dirt right where it was covered in the sweat and cum of his soldiers. He manhandled your hips up, leaving your face crushed into the dirt and your ass up high for him, cunt presented. You felt his hot breath at your ear and it was a sudden shock when you realised he was growling lowly into your ear, his words for you and you only.

“S’going tae hurt, yer going tae scream yerself hoarse for me and then I’ll get ye tae milk me when I rip pleasure out of all that pain. Will treat ye right after little princess, like one of my good Scottish lassies, but right now ye’r my fucking English whore.”

The confusing mix of sentiments cleared some of the fuzziness from your mind but you had no time to dwell. He was right, it did hurt and you did scream yourself hoarse. He had lined himself up and plunged into you, cock coated and slick from the cum of his soldiers but no less huge inside your tight virgin pussy. He had split you in two, you were sure of it. His cock must have broken through you, was sitting in your ribcage and punching all the air from your lungs.

You blacked out for a moment, coming right back to when he pulled out to fuck brutally back into you again, slapping your ass so hard that you felt the sting all the way up to your fingertips and making you choke on the sob that fought through the screaming. He ripped at your hair, making you look at the defeated soldiers on their knees. Making you watch their own cocks swell at your treatment. Your utter ruination was making them hard. Your head being wrenched back meant you had to go to your hands as he pounded you, and you saw how they looked as one of your breasts was fucked right out of the chemise, bouncing lewdly for them to see with every hard thrust.

The humiliation had you digging into the dirt like you had claws, feeling the bite of the earth pushing under your nails. It sparked something in your brain, almost like you could see them sharpen. Like you could feel your shoulder blades become more pronounced, become something sinewy and sleek and animal. He was fucking you like a predator and you were drooling and howling and panting like his prey, back bowed as he pulled your hair harder and had to staring at the sky babbling prayers into the night air.

“S’too much, can’t, I can’t. Full, too full.”

“Ye fucking can. Yer tight fucking cunts trying tae strangle me, wants my cum so bad naw? Perfect English pussy, so slutty and needy for a real cock” he growled, hand letting go of your hair and smacking your ass right over where he had before, causing you to howl at the pain.

The pain and something else, something that had no place here and yet had been lingering from the moment he had caught you. Something that had been getting closer and brighter and more insistent with every abuse you were subject to. Something that he invited in when your arms collapsed beneath you without him holding your heads weight anymore and he ground your face into the ground before bringing his hand to your clit and pinching.

Your scream was raw and hoarse, throat well past being able to produce a clear sound. The orgasm was blinding and every bone felt like it had liquified. You saw white and then you saw hardly anything, only vague shapes and colours. The only thing now was how his cock filled you. The shame was gone, replaced with the truth that you loved this. You loved how he used you like this, how he violated you in front of these soldiers just because he could.

“That’s it princess, fucking take it” he hissed, stopping his thrusts and letting you do all the work.

You didn’t even realise now how you wildly fucked yourself back on his cock trying to chase the pain of overstimulation, addicted to the way it made you feel some sick hazy pleasure. You were drooling onto the dirt, tasting the earth mixed with cum and finding the disgust of it only felt right now. When his hand came to your stomach and pushed to feel himself bulging there you came again, harder, babbling thank yous to him.

He bit out a string of curses above you as your pussy squeezed so hard it was forcing him out, but he was strong as he forced himself balls deep and held there, finding his release as you milked everything out of him and into your womb. The liquid heat of it was the last thing you felt as you passed out, blissed and fucked out of your mind.

–

John MacTavish allowed himself a moment to lean his body against your back, inhaling the scent of sweat and dirt and cum and fear and lust from your limp body. So good for him, took it perfectly. He hissed when he finally pulled out, resisting the temptation to just keep going beyond what would feel good because fuck, being inside you had been a religious experience.

He was nothing if not a man of his word though, and he scooped your body gently into his arms to get you onto a horse and ready for him to take over the border where he could give you that princess treatment he had promised. The surviving soldiers they would leave beaten and bloodied but not dead. After all, someone had to tell your betrothed all the details.

“Fucking MacTavish” he hissed after excusing the man who had given the report.

He had made him give it in full detail, told him to leave nothing out.

“Kept her alive by the sounds of it, maybe looking to get a bastard out of her” Garrick mused.

“Knowing him he’ll keep her near the border to taunt us instead of moving her further up North” Price added.

Simon Riley would not be letting his betrothed get away with allowing MacTavish of all people to take the maidenhood that rightfully belonged to him. She needed a proper punishing fuck from an English man to learn better.

“Doesn’t matter where he keeps her. I’m going to take her, and she’s going to learn what happens to sluts who spread their legs for those Scottish bastards”.

#mhairiwrites #fanfic #cod au #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #cw: noncon #rest assured this isn't likely to become the kind of thing I write because it is well out of my wheelhouse #I've got a half chapter of Firewatch written and will finish that off #But I'm looking to do a little more of the Teashop AU after and that is going to stay fluffy and wholesome as hell #darkfic #dark content

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tubbytarchia · 3 months

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Traffic/Life series roster as dinosaurs

A lot of these don't make for very good hybrids unless you wanna get into freaky territory or full on centaur but... Hope it's a fun scroll nonetheless!

Grian - Novialoidea

A small birdie... The name also means "New wings" which I find fun. New lives and death games to be part of, new wings to accompany him... (Honorable mention to "Shuvuuia" the "desert bird" who unfortunately is not a pterosaur (doesn't fly)) (Yes we're including pterosaurs! Just using "dinosaur" as a conveient blanket term)

Tango - Aratasaurus / Pyroraptor

Fire raptor! Either works just fine and Tango as a skittery little raptor is perfect for a creature like him

Scar - Apatosaurus

"Deceptive Lizard" harkening back to Scar's scamming tendencies. Though I've always liked the idea of him being some larger gentler animal in any hybrid scenario and a long-neck fits the bill well. He can poke his nose into people's conversations easily to start marketing something useless to them and swishes his tail to ward off anyone who's about to stop him

Impulse - Nasutoceratops

Ren - Regaliceratops

Horns. COOL horns. I don't know what else you want from me ceratopses are just way too awesome. Nasutoceratops is a wicked cool dinosaur for having its horns point so forward much like a bull and I for one can jive with some Impulse bull symbolism. Bulls are often viewed as strong, sturdy and loyal, traits also assigned to Impulse a LOT of the time. But though he IS intensely loyal in many cases (+ Ceratopses are also known for how they defend their own!), and he's not very outward about the following traits, he can get quite petty and bitchy and hold grudges. Still, you don't think of that when you look at him and he seems to agree! Eg him feeling like he should be accepted into Cleo's alliance in 3rd life without actually proving himself when Cleo was rightfully hesitant, at which Impulse more or less rolled his eyes. And him proclaiming "betrayal!" when killed by Bdubs when their alliance was as firm as a rat's tail

(And I feel the need to point this out too just in case: "bulls are also known for their temper" yeah but they're not like that! Bulls like many animals become defensive when exposed to aggravating behavior or movement! Which you could work into Impulse's grudge holding and intense loyalty...? I don't know enough about him sorry but do with that what you will)

Regaliceratops! Regal!! Crown shaped frill!!! Need I say more?

Gem - Therizinosaurus

Theris are so bad bitch coated to me and I would love to have one as my wife I mean um I couldn't decide on a less generic specimen so Gem can just be a Theri! A herbivore - often associated with the belief that herbivores are gentle passive creatures, but far from it, especially with Gem! She bares her claws like it's no one's business

Martyn - Stygmoloch

A Pachy with a tough head and a tendency to bonk people - I think it fits Martyn's tendency to perpetuate drama haha. The Stygmoloch's name though more or less translates to "demon of the styx river", the river of the underworld representing loathing of death. To me this makes sense with all the watcher lore (that I have a hard time understanding but whatever!!) especially with how Martyn became in LL. The watchers themselves don't loathe death (??) of course. They're death games. But someone within the game trying to stay alive and win? Probably loathes the idea of themselves dying. I have no clue what Im saying

Pearl - Carnotaurus

Ok maybe a hot take not to make her into a pteradon or even a raptor with wing-like features but those just didn't fit that well in my opinion. Rather I wanted her to have some kind of horn motif in place of her wings as visual symbolism for her character. I'd like to imagine her having fine horns, to then have them damaged (one broken off) and simultaneously the other more grown out. Think of how domesticated goats for example have their horns trimmed. I think human hybrids with horns would do the same to keep them from becoming a bother but Pearl would neglect to after her heartbreak in DL. I was heavily considering the Diabloceratops for this, especially because of the name (Devil horned face - good ostracizing material) but Pearl strikes me a lot more as a carnivore and there are only two horned carnivores out there so... Carnotaurus it is haha. And even now I'm making her horns unrealistically big but.... We can suspend some belief

BigB - Oryctodromeus

"Digging Runner"! I've already talked plenty of why BigB is very rabbit behavior to me and my reasons for assigning this burrowing dinosaur to him are similar. Tldr he is fidgety and cautious yet clever and constantly buries himself underground

Lizzie - Anurognathidae

I don't even fucking know man it made me think of Lizzie and then I wasn't able to assign anything else to her. Lizzie often claims to be confused and if any dinosaur looks to be in a perpetual state of confusion then its this one. I know a lot of people like to portray Lizzie as a butterfly also so there you go, wings!!! And it's quite cat-like too for those who like to draw her as a cat

Mumbo - Leinkupal

I really struggled with Mumbo... So many different dinos fit him imo but I figured it should be at least something moderately large (so "Technosaurus" was out of the question lol). Then I rediscovered this dinosaur whose name translates to "vanishing family" and then I thought about LL and SL and how Mumbo went out quickly after the initial death/s and left a very felt absence in someone's alliance and then I became really emotional and forgot what I was doing

Joel - Nodocephalosaurus

Bdubs - Psittacosaurus

"Knob Headed Lizard"

Joel as an Ankylosaur has been stuck in my head from day one of assigning dinosaurs to the Lifers and I'm frustrated that I can't truly explain why. You'd view an Ankylosaur as a slow and docile creature, even compared to other herbivores, but...

1. Maybe not so much nowadays, I don't know what non-dino nerds think, but I feel like ankylosaurs were largely believed to be HUGE back in the day, much like velociraptors, when in reality they're not that big. The Nodocephalosaurus is especially small even among other ankylosaurs. But, well, we all know what Joel loves to say about himself

2. Joel is or likes to make himself look well in control, just as ankylosaurs have little to worry about as far as predators go. Especially in earlier series where he was content basing mostly by himself. It's always when things get dire and he enters his red life that he becomes very impulsive and erratic like an ankylosaur flipped on its back

3. I know there's a distinction between Traffic Joel and Empires Joel and whatever other Joel but... Even in death games his more charitable traits shine through here and there. He really becomes a dangerous rascal for a large majority of the time and he's very good at it, he's not putting on a mask or anything, but I like to remember that underneath that tough spiky armor is gentleness and caring. His care towards Lizzie and Pearl and Etho etc etc

4. The image of Joel as a hell of a spiky creature is just really fun to me. Yet heavy and blunt ones! And someone once proposed the idea of him having a club tail but having chiselled it to be sharp to mirror him being a menace. (Added benefit also that it's lighter that way haha) To me he's always been an obvious heavy hitter rather than stealthy or particularly creative etc. Him as a carnivore just doesn't work as well for me

The name bares no fitting meaning but when I look at Bdubs I think of Psittaco. All other species close to it in looks are already ceratopsians and we have like... 3 of those already lol. Im sorry Bdubs you look so stupid

Cleo - Lythronax

There's so few predators in this roster lol oops, but Cleo deserves to be an apex one! The name translates to "Gore King" because you know, zombies... and you know, Cleo is very king so true. If any of the Lifers should be able to boast rows of razor sharp teeth to gore others it should be ZombieCleo

Scott - Theiophytalia

I've been really struggling with Scott but how about the dinosaur whose name translates to "Belonging to the garden of Gods". There's only one known specimen of this species and it's an Iguanadon looking dinosaur which I think a lot of people would regard as the most basic, possibly boring type of dinosaur (if it weren't for the Allosaurus which already takes the title of "basic straight white guy") but that further fits Scott imo. It's always been a strong point of appeal to me how MUCH there is to his character that so often goes under the radar or unexplored, and how he's very often portrayed as just some handsome looking guy as opposed to a hybrid etc. He's not at all extravagant yet has mastered his craft of bending fate in his favor, he so often has things perfectly under his control just as he wants them, etc... reflective of the name "Theiophytalia" even if you wouldn't think such a dinosaur to sport one of the most prolific names a dinosaur can have. Also garden something something flower husbans. Basically whatever Bree's take on Scott is lol. I don't wanna blab for 5 paragraphs about that blue mf here but. I hope this makes sense

Jimmy - Yinlong

I struggled with this mf the most because he's another very hashtag deep character. I felt really bad to remove his bird motifs completely because the canary is so essential to him, but a raptor nor a pteradon fit my image of him at all. I spent so much time looking into various species but it just aint it, but Yinlong was possibly quilled and we can still cover him in feathers, even if he has nothing close to wings haha... BUT ANYWAY. Yinlong is a small kind of pathetic looking dinosaur, and Jimmy definitely isn't small but he'd sure be made to feel that way. Yinlong translates to "Hidden Dragon" however, a rather thought-provoking name for such a dinosaur. Given his character, it sure does feel like there's a soul of a dragon laying dormant somewhere in him, buried by all the self deprecation and curse labels. Honorable mention to Tianyulong, a very similar dinosaur who was named after a museum, but "Tianyu" also translates to peace and content. Something that Jimmy can't yet but deserves to be

Etho - undefined raptor

Already made a loong post about raptor Etho haha which I assume yall have seen since the support towards that post is the only reason I'm even making this post

Skizz - Olorotitan

"Titanic Swan" close enough to an angel right. I feel the whole angel thing is a bit overdone when Skizz can become a malicious little creature every now and then, but swans much like angels do get viewed as beautiful and taken as symbolism of love. Much like Skizz is largely viewed as an angel and often as someone who can do no wrong. But mostly I wanted Skizz to be a hadrosaur/duck-billed dinosaur, because those are dinosaurs known for their speculated vocalizations. And what is Skizz good at? Talking and voicing his love and appreciation? Yeah? Yeah... I'm so sorry Skizz btw this hybrid idea does not work out

Again, a lot of these don't work so well as hybrids... Some like the long-neck ones I cant imagine to have more than a spiky spine back and a tail, but! These picks aren't based on hybrid potential but rather what I think genuinely fits. I did really work on this all day looking through a bunch of dinosaurs and research haha, but I do love dinosaurs a lot... If you disagree with any hey thats cool! Feel free to give me your opinions if you've any and I hope this was fun to scroll through regardless

#oh boy here we go with the tags #grian #tangotek #impulsesv #rendog #I feel bad tagging these Im not gonna tag them all alright forgive me #zombiecleo #joel smallishbeans #geminitay #ldshadowlady #ok thats more than enough forgive me traffic gods #trafficblr #but also blabber?#rendog is my fave... and Joel but I have ankylosaur bias #ankylosaurus best animal sorry to every other animal #oh and Gem of course haha....... Theris are so cool man #second best animal #tubby art

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azsazz · 5 months

Text

In Storm

Rancher!Cassian x Reader

Summary: You want a baby and Cassian looks all too good in his flannel.

Warnings: Conversation about having a baby.

Word Count: 1,098

Notes: The Cassian era is era-inggg

_________________________________________

Rainy mornings are your favorite.

The sky cracking open and letting her feelings loose means that you get to sleep in, that your husband’s warm body holds you tightly as rain patters the windows in pretty songs. It means gentle calloused hands roaming your curves, soft breaths as he mouths against your skin. It means a slow and sensual fucking with a steaming hot bath following, where you can lean back into the comfort of Cassian and rest the day away.

But rainy mornings are not his favorite.

You find your husband standing in front of the large windows of the living room, staring out into the expanse of land you get to call yours. Yesterday’s flannel hangs loose around his broad shoulders, unbuttoned from when he’d hastily thrown it on to examine the conditions of the farm under the onslaught of rain. His hair is tousled, not yet thrown up into a haphazard bun the way he does when he works up a sweat from milking the cows or fixing the fence. His feet are bare, just as yours are, the hardwood flooring holding a chilled bite to it as you near his side.

Stepping up next to Cassian, you gaze out the window as well. The weather hadn’t called for a storm but the springtime is unpredictable. The horses graze in the pasture, seemingly unaffected by the drizzling skies. Their coats are dark with water but they’re getting on with their days as if the sun is shining brightly.

Lightning cracks the sky and Cassian grunts, displeased. You can see it in the downwards slope of his mouth that he’s unhappy with the fact that he hadn’t brought the animals in yesterday, when he knew he smelled the metallic tang of a storm creeping in.

“They’re animals,” you try to soothe, “They should be used to it.”

“I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about the stallions,” Cassian responds, not even sparing you a glance as he stares at the horses. “But my mares shouldn’t be out in this storm. Especially not Carrington. Ol’ girl can have that foal anytime now and she’s only out in the rain because you were adamant she needed ‘fresh air.’” His voice pitches at the end in a terrible impersonation of you and you scowl.

“So now it’s my fault?” you ask, incredulously. Cassian lets you sidle up to his side anyway, slipping between the opening of his flannel and his bare chest. You nearly growl with delight because he’s so warm. Turning your head, you press your lips to his pec. “You’re grumpy when it rains.”

“‘M grumpy because there’s chores that need to be done,” Cassian sighs, wrapping an arm around your waist. “I should go out there.”

Out there looks miserable. The trail leading up to the barn is muddy, puddles of rain scattering the path. The rain has kept its steady pour since you’d come down here to find your husband, and if you think he’s grumpy now, you know he’d be absolutely miserable after working out in the rain all day.

“Or, you can stay in here and we can spend a little time together,” you drawl, trailing your fingers along his chest. His muscles clench the closer to his waistline that you get.

His hazel gaze cuts down to yours, “Last night wasn’t enough for you?” Cassian muses, eyes sparkling in the way that you know you have him.

“Won’t be enough for me until I look like your best girl Carrington out there, nice and full with child.”

Cassian’s fingers still from where they’re tracing patterns on your hip. “You really want one, don’t you?” He asks softly.

You shrug. It hasn’t been something you’ve talked about much, a child. Cassian is busy running the ranch and ever since Rhysand and Feyre moved closer to the hustle and bustle of the city to raise Nyx, you haven’t had anyone to really talk to besides the mares. And they just whinny and snort at everything you say.

“It would mean extra hands around the farm,” you try to play off, cheeks heating. You slide from his side, eager to dispel the conversation your husband surely doesn’t want to have at this very moment. Not while Carrington is getting rained on, Gods forbid. “What do you want for breakfast? Pancakes? An omelet? I just gathered the eggs yesterday morning so they’ll be nice and fresh.”

“Hey,” Cassian calls gently, snagging your hand as you try to dip away. He tugs you back to his chest, bushing some of your sleep mussed hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear so he can caress your cheek. His hazel eyes search yours, and the frown tugging his lips downward makes your heart ache. “Don’t walk away from me, sweetheart. You want a baby?”

Your eyes well with tears the longer he stares at you. His brows are pulled tight as he waits patiently for your response. The emotion in your throat is thick, but you nod, voice coming out raspy with it when you answer. “More than anything.”

Cassian nods a little, taking in your answer. His throat bobs but he’s agreeing, nodding firmer. “Then let’s have one.”

Your entire body locks up at his words. You didn’t think it would be so easy to convince him. All you had to do all of this time was ask? Surely, that is not the case.

But Cassian would be so wonderful with a child in his arms. He’d love them just as perfectly as he loves you, as he cares for the animals of his ranch. You’ve seen him with the foals and chicks and lambs. How he holds each one with care and parades them around the ranch, kissing their little heads and talking to them in soft voices. He’s made to be a father, even if he doesn’t know it himself.

“We’re trying to have a baby,” you breathe, clutching onto him. An all-consuming feeling rushes through your body, nerves perhaps, because holy shit, you and Cassian are going to try for a baby. “We’re trying for a baby!”

Cassian grins, mirroring your excitement. He pulls you into his arms and you lock your legs around his waist immediately, diving down to capture his mouth against yours. The kiss is exhilarating, hot and sensual as they both of you settle into the feeling that maybe this time next year, it could be you giving birth instead of Carrington.

You could not be more excited for the adventure you and your husband are about to embark on.

#rancher!cassian #cassian x reader #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #cassian #cassian au #cassian/reader

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batty-pham · 6 months

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DPxDC drabble

- Dead rat -

Danny wasn't sure he remembered what warmth felt like anymore.

Ice settled into his bones, his very core.

He relished when he could feel the faint impressions of warmth from outside, from the sun, a hug, a hot plate of non lethal food.

There wasn't any warmth here.

The buzzing florescent lights were no replacement for sunshine, no one was able to touch him through the glass, the food they gave him were cold mounds of grey... something.

Danny curled in on himself in the corner of the room as he glared at the scientists watching him through the glass.

He was nothing but an animal to them.

A project.

He wanted to escape, to be free, but he had lost a lot of ectoplasm before he ended up with them. He was drained and they were keeping him even more drained.

He was running.

He wasn't sure where he was going.

He just needed to get away.

And they found him.

God he is such a fuck up.

If he hadn't let it slip to his parents who he is- what he is, he wouldn't be here. He would be at home. With Tucker and Sam. With Jazz.

Not... wherever here is without any ectoplasm to heal his wounds.

His head snapped up from his knees when the door to his pristine white cell opened.

A man in a suit walked in, immediately flanked by what appeared to be body guards who eyed Danny with caution.

"I do apologize for the treatment of you so far, but I do believe we can make sure you have better... arrangements in the future. As long as the two of us are at an... understanding."

Danny stared at him in silence for a moment, h opened his mouth to speak, his brows furrowing when it took a moment to get his vocal chords to work, and when they did, they were scratchy from disuse. "Understanding?"

"yes, as I see it I can help you, and you can help me. In exchange I can get you out of this dingy little room and into a much better one, a proper bed and everything."

Danny's eyes narrowed "who are you?"

The man grinned, offering a hand to help the thin and fragile looking boy up, thinking that he had agreed. In his mind, who wouldn't? "Lex Luther."

Danny, using what little strength he had left, smacked his hand away, "not the first billionaire to offer that fruitloop." He hissed.

Danny didn't watch him as he stormed out, but he heard each and every footstep banging against his skull. Danny stared at his hand, wishing the warmth from the hardly a second of contact lingered a little bit longer.

#i know we love ou Vivisection angst here #but where's my “isolated in a room and put through random tests as if he is a rat in a maze” angst for danny #where's my “they treated him like an animal in a zoo”#dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #danny phantom #if danny had a nickel for every time a billionaire tried to manipulate him jnto obedience #he'd have two nickels #which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice #oops i made him TOUCH STARVED #batfamily #lex luthor

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koolades-world · 1 year

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More Obey me! Headcannons

had so much fun last time I wanted to do it again

Satan is so smart, but has issues doing basic math and refuses to admit it, like he can’t figure out fifteen plus seven without his fingers or a calculator (is this me projecting? maybe)

Belphie bought himself and Mc matching house slippers. Mc thought Beel felt left out and made Belphie buy a pair for him too

Beel has a huge green thumb, and takes upon himself to save plants he thinks are sad or lonely. He buys the dying plants from the store to bring back to life (partially inspired by the chat where someone, forgot who, told beel that if he talked to plants they would grow faster my precious baby)

Lucifer is the best cook at the HoL, but rarely has time to cook. Beel is the second best but usually eats the ingredients before he can make anything with them. Mammon is probably the worst because Levi can make food from animes almost perfectly

Asmo once almost set a store he was collaborating with on fire with his rage alone because they spelt his name wrong

Beel probably needs a new toothbrush every couple weeks. Belphie probably gets toothbrushes mixed up and uses ones that aren’t his

Lucifer and Solomon like prune juice haha old men

The one thing Luke and Simeon have seriously disagreed on is if raisins belong in dessert. Michael likes them, so Luke does too. Simeon thinks they’re awful but never directly says it, so Lucifer usually says it for him

Despite always being online, Levi had not once checked his RAD email. He has 9,999+ emails, probably a lot more because 9,999 is where it stops counting

Mammon collects cool rocks and keeps them in a box under his bed

Satan’s hands are always freezing, so he sticks them under Mc (or a cat) when possible, or uses a charmed hot water bottle from Solomon that stays warm for days at a time

Solomon and Asmo have had matching bracelet sets for as long as they’ve known each other, and since they didn’t make them anymore, they got some custom done for Mc so they could also have them

For about 1,000 years, Thirteen though jelly beans were an actual kind of bean and Solomon never let her let it go

The first food Mc and Mammon ate on a date in the human world together was Taiyaki, so he made it a point to learn how to make them to surprise Mc (even though he’s a terrible cook) (I might make this a fic since I like this idea so much)

Diavolo has always wanted a Devildom version of a hamster but Barbatos refused to have any kind of rodent in the castle, rat or not

Luke probably downloads those stupid app games with the ads unironically

Satan’s favorite Disney Princess is Ariel because she ran off to do what she wanted without caring what her father thought, it’s giving daddy issues. He’s probably considered running off and marrying Mephisto to make Lucifer angry

Raphael unironically enjoys off brand chips and soda

Lucifer is a nail biter, and Asmo is helping him curve the habit by putting a nasty tasting top coat when he does his nails, and it’s also why he wears gloves all the time.

Belphie and Satan once went up to the humans world together to mess with people in Salem, Massachusetts with magic, which spawned several conspiracy theory books. They read them together and laugh as a past time

Diavolo once went to the human world in his demon form for,, reasons, and accidentally got written into ancient mythology because he got spotted by humans

Barbatos had a home garden for cooking and sometimes lets Asmo have leaves from some of the plants to make homemade skin care products

Mammon probably has lots of earwax. Don’t share your earbuds with him unless you make him clean them afterwards

Belphie has a really large water bottle that’s always on his side table. He wakes up randomly though the night, chugs an ungodly amount of water and then passed out again. In the mornings he has to piss really bad but is too lazy to get up and actually do it, so he just sits and complains. Even Beel isn’t sure how he’s able to drink that much water in a short amount of time

Satan likes waking up early to enjoy the morning air and read outside for a while since mornings can get hectic with his brothers

Thirteen’s favorite torture device is the Iron Maiden. She had her own that she bedazzled. Even Asmo is jealous and wants her to make him one too

Mammon introduced Diavolo to Gatorade, and instead of sneaking behind Lucifer and Barbatos’s backs to drink Demonus, they have secret Gatorade meetings

Diavolo and Lucifer definitely both had a hidden Dialuci stash of things and probably clash trying to collect limited edition things online

None of the Obey me cast took birthdays or passing of years seriously until Mc entered the picture and suddenly time was precious, and they actually kept track. Because of this, nobody is really sure how old the twins are

Mephisto thinks roosters want world domination

Asmo thinks cilantro tastes like soap and Levi thinks anything cola flavored tastes like cough medicine

Mammon's favorite party trick is one Mc taught him, which is rolling his tongue Everyone he meets, including his brothers, thinks it's so cool when really it's just a genetic thing

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sanest-bsd-delegate · 8 months

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General Headcanons with DOA Boys

Headcanon: General headcanons of stuff I think they will do Pairing: Fyodor x reader, Nikolai x reader and Sigma x reader Genre: Fluff, lowkey crack A/N: Thank you dc person for that one fyodor headcanon. →Masterlist

Nikolai

He probably likes to eat mud for fun and force everyone to eat it

You both secretly sneekout of the hideout and visit beaches at night, having deep conversation which would end up with him filling your shorts with sand

he likes to place insects and rats in your closet stating it is a harmless prank. Not even Sigma is excused from his pranks

Nikolai irrespective of being a prankster would gift you with ice-creams and bakery goods [to lactose intolerant ppl, he gives u popsicles]

that was until he decided to prank you once day and put hair in your food

Never fell into his 'get in hole' game. You got stuck in it for 40 days without food and water. No kidding.

The mysterious hole is filled with nothing but junk.😭😭 very questionable junk

You both love to prank others though.

"Let's plant the bomb under Sigma's bathtub" "Extra points make it filled with pink glitter"

Sigma was covered in pink glitter for thirteen days.

But! Personally Nikolai would be one of the best cuddlers in the manga/anime

The first time he wore normal clothes instead of his usual multi layered buisness clothing, you were in tears. How could someone pull such simple clothes so fashionably?

You like to braid his hair. Even if you suck at it, he would wear your braiding loud and proud.

"Ahh quiztime! Who braided my hair?" "Sir this is-" "Wrong answer," boom "it's my love YN who braided it, you are no fun"

And that's how the city's McDonald's got blowed up.

overall he is a good insane boyfriend, so 10/10 cause I love him 😋

Fyodor

This man

I swear he is fine asf but would probably learn all the instruments you like so he can play it to you when you are kidnapped by Dazai most prob.

he is a Lil more insane then Nikolai so he would probably boom North Korea cause he was bored. [NK people i am jk-]

"what did you have for breakfast" "I don't know" "wrong answer" And the next moment you know, South of Yokohama got blowed up

He is the most broken richest man you ever met.

he can't buy clothes for himself or even upgrade the doa office but will gift you a wholeass country as a Birthday return gift.

you force him to wear dresses and paint his nails, 😭 but my man is so down bad that he is sub in this relationship.

"Sir we have bombed the tunne-" "Good verywell" "🧍🕯️" 😭 nah cause they are hella scared when he wears makeup.

He would probably take you to fireworks only for you to realise he is bombing the area again.

"fyodor, we talked about this" "No" and he proceeds to boom everything

he isn't much of a hugger and probably tries to runaway when you try to even touch him, but mf would suffocate you in his sleep with his hug

He probably had tried giving those evil laughs, but the moment he did that, he choked on air.

Me and a person on my server were having a convo and they said "He probably bites his nails to much and they are really short"

he owns a pet rat but denys it

honestly, he is a 10 but he is a terrorist who likes to bomb everything up. But he is your boyfriend and he is hot.

Sigma

-Are you the man of the relationship or he is?

he is more of a 'please don't kill anyone sweetheart' rather then supporting your actions and being a 'lets commit arson dear YN'

Mf is rich asf. He would deny it ofcourse and then proceed to shower you with silk clothes, Gucci , prada comfy…..such a sugar daddy

😭😭hear me out, he is a ball full of sunshine and anxiety but he wouldnt hesitate to kill anyone who does wrong to you or his casino.

-"Sigma am I your first priority?" "Yes-?" "Is the casino your first priority?" "Yes-?" "Me or the casino?" "Yes"

He probably cries everytime you ignore him.

HE REMEMBERS EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU.

once Nikolai kidnapped you for fun and man did Nikolai end up being half bald.

Sigma wants you to stay away from fyodor, because the last thing he knows is that he want to give fyodor a bombing partner.

Atp he doesnt want you to interact any of the DOA members, because little did he know, you will grow more insane with them.

I like to imagine you knowing Dazai and mentioning it to Sigma on occasions, and oh boy Sigma wanted to kill the man when he first met not because you talked a lot about him, but he would probably be the reason why you pull questionable strunt

10/10 Mama Sigma

He also doesnt allow you to run away freely in his casino, for all he knows is that you will cheat and win all the games.

He is so restrictive

You both probably or possibly may have this convo:

"BUT FYODOR GIFTED HIS S/O A WHOLE ASS COUNTRY, WHY CANT I GET THAT PLUSHIE??" "You cant cheat everytime to get the plushies" "BUT-" "Fyodor is a terrorist, we are not like them" "LEAST HE GIFTED HIS S/O-"

Your arguments probably never make sense to others, but its for you and Sigma to know.

Also he gave up on scolding you every time you try to eat casino coins.

He is such a 'I am trying to keep my S/O mentally sane' boyfriend, even if he needs to go to therapy. 8/10 bf material

Guys get a Sigma. Sigmas never disappoint.

A/N: Btw the discord server if you wanna join is here.

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indouloureux · 1 year

Text

𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐄

summary: in frenzied expeditions, eddie lets his anger snap and indulges in something... new.

content warnings: ghostface!eddie. character death (no one major), murder, eddie and reader being lovesick psychopaths, kinda shitty writing, gore, graphic depictions of violence. SMUT (18+ MDNI), (a warning that's a spoiler), knife play, blood kink, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (m receiving), ball play, gagging, facefucking, overstimulation, kitchen sex??

a/n: in honor of halloween; idk how to explain this. i hope u guys like it. i wrote it within two days. this was kinda rushed. reblogs and comments are appreciated. thank u my girls @mysticmunson and @lilacletter for beta-reading!!

“Hello?”

“Hi, sweetheart,”

Funny how that baritone dulcetness of a voice was easily recognizable. But it was probably because you’ve heard it in many different ways possible that this experimentation seemed familiar to you. Even with his speech choppy from the static of the RT.

“Hey, Eddie,” RT balanced between your ear and shoulder, you take the popcorn out from the microwave, the hot bowl seethes on your poor fingers but you could care less; the burning feeling felt good. “Where are you?”

“On my way,” his voice is slightly garbled. “Just got held up from the drive thru, babe. Don’t start the film without me,”

“Of course,” you chuckle. “Andy’s right here. He’s, uh, out by the pool smoking. The others are on their way though,”

He spits out an obscenity at what you think is an unforeseen speed bump, then a clutter that probably meant his RT fell to the ground. Then his voice is faint next: “I don’t understand why we invited these dickheads,”

“It’s for a truce,” you place the bowl on the countertop, crossing your arms over your white linen sweater, the soft cotton tickling your wrists. “I mean, baby, come on. You graduated! And so did they and, y’know, they want to fix things before they head off to college. And- Eddie, come on, you agreed!”

“I did. But, I just don’t know why we have to watch a movie at your place. You’re alone with Andy right now and I’m still twenty minutes away,”

You hear something slam in the background over his side. You frown, eyes scanning for Andy’s figure out in the backyard; a silver mist hovers over the teal pool, dark green grass almost black, the moon glinting its sharp tips.

And then there’s Andy, with his hands in his hips and a cigarette in his mouth. He turns and waves at you. You wave back.

“Andy’s not here with me. He’s outside, remember?” you pop a popcorn into your mouth, bending over the counter with your elbow on the marbled gloss. “You gotta relax, Eds. I’m fine. If he touches me, I could just… stab him,”

"You wouldn't,"

“I would,”

“You caught a rat and sent it away. You didn’t even drown it, or gut it. Or chop its head off,”

Laughing softly, you take the bowl into your hands and head over to the living room, placing it on the coffee table, aligning the stack of movies properly. “Doing that is, like, practically murder. Why don’t they include those cute little rats in the anti-animal abuse law? They’re still animals!”

“They’re pests, sweetheart.”

“Still an animal. And they're cute. Rodents are cute,” you plop down on the couch in a small bounce, not before you give Andy one last glance who seems to be staring at something across the fence. It’s probably just a squirrel. “What about you? Are you brave enough to kill a rat?”

“Oh, princess,” you can imagine him shaking his head, RT resting on the vacant seat beside him, replacing you. “You know I can do so much more than just kill a rat,”

“Spooky,” flipping your hair behind you, you giggle into the microphone. “Make it quick, please? I’m starving and popcorn’s not gonna suffice this hunger. I could eat a horse, or- I dunno, a person’s arm.”

“Sure thing, Your Majesty,” his voice deepens over a border of a mock British accent that hides his normal, American one well. Then he grunts, and another faint slam of something that catches you off guard and even makes you flinch.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” Eddie questions.

You sit forward. “That- slam. Where are you?”

“Oh! That. It’s just the shit at the back, babe.” Eddie explains. “I’m almost there, sweetheart. Sit tight and look pretty,”

The RT crackles and there’s nothing but silence left. An ephemeral smile makes its way towards your heated face; conversations with Eddie, no matter the topic or its duration, never fails to make itself linger around your berserk mind.

Your heart belabors your ribcage expectantly, your crimson bottom lip tucked between your pearls. With your thoughts suddenly wrapped around Andy, who makes you wonder how long does it take for someone to finish smoking, makes you jump from your seat and wander away from your bright living room.

By the time you reach the sliding doors that lead you to the backyard, you’ve no sight of the man in the bright green and orange Hawkins High jersey. You frown a little, looking around the expanse of your backyard.

Finally, you slide the doors open. You worry he’s on his little schemes again, like Eddie had warned you about. Despite the truce they offered, you still put them on a pedestal and remained cautious of their actions. Inviting Andy into your home when you were still alone wasn’t exactly one of your brightest decisions, seeing as he could have done anything at any moment that could cause you harm.

But he’s not a murderer.

No, Andy’s a teenage boy who’s attempting closure and forgiveness and practices maturity like every other teenager does. Just… at a later date.

You race back inside your home and pick up your RT and a flashlight. When you return outside, the mist over your pool swishes away from the cold summer wind at nightfall. You turn the switch of your flashlight and direct it at each direction that it could reach, radio tight in your other hand just in case.

“Andy?” you call out. Where could he have possibly gone? “Andy, where are you?”

White sneakers stained by the wet grass and the dirt, you pad across the lawn prudently—tacitly, wondering if maybe you could sneak up on him and give him a good scare. But your backyard lacks trees or any other areas to hide into other than the sun loungers and the shed.

So this concerns you deeply. How Andy could just suddenly disappear. You’ve quickly come to dread this, with the eerie silence that blots repetitively at your composure and suddenly your rattling in worry.

You walk around, pointing your flashlight at every direction, the white beam only allowing you to see the probable septuagenarian metal fences that surround your home. You even open the shed you’ve always feared opening in the nights and see nothing but your father’s equipment and a lawn mower.

But something was missing there.

Your father had a very voluptuary collection of knives that are hung meticulously to the wooden walls of the shed. They were exhibited by size, cleaned thoroughly once a week during his weekends. Their frequent disinfectioning proffers itself like a mirror, where you can clearly see your distraught expression when you realize one of the knives was missing.

The Buck 120.

It was your father’s most beloved. And now you wonder if Andy took it.

“Alright, Andy!” you slam the shed door close, walking backwards and speed walk across every corner of your backyard. “Come out! This isn’t funny! Did you go inside the shed?”

No answer, obviously. What were you thinking?

You harrumph, annoyed that Andy would do this despite your brooding. You stomp your way back inside your house, wiping your feet across the poor rug that you practically assault with your frustrated padding.

You place your flashlight on the counter. Impatient and worried, you try contacting Eddie again through the RT.

When it’s nothing but static, you groan. “God, Eddie, where are you?”

In fact, where are the others?

You twist the knobs of your walkie talkie still, searching for the right station.

Suddenly it crackles and you halt your doings, staring at the radio with a confused lour. The crinkling sound makes you tap your feet impatiently, thinking it’s Eddie because who else could it be?

The frizzling ceases. You take this as a sign to speak. “Hello?”

“Hi sweetheart,” it’s Eddie. But his voice is akin to darkness, almost like corruption playing with a knife that glooms over boredom. The hairs on your arms raise in arising suspicion.

“...Eddie?”

“Go out to the backyard, baby,”

Discomposed, you do. You take heedful steps back outside, a sinister quietude resolves uneasily all over your lit nerves. You hold the walkie talkie tight in your shaking hand, the flashlight you took lighting up the backyard again.

“I’m out,” you say quietly into the microphone. “Eddie, where are you?”

“Just keep walking forward,”

You miff. “Eddie, just come here! Where are you, anyway?” you look around, pointing the flashlight over the fences. “This isn’t funny. Did you take my dad’s knife? You know he hates it when someone touches his collection.”

Eddie titters like he doesn’t give a damn. “Just do what I say,”

Cheeks sucking in, you walk forward, until your eyes adjust to a dark figure sitting in the middle of the lawn. You tap your flashlight twice on your lamp, and point the light at the figure.

If you could, you could have broken the handle in your hand.

Andy’s mangled body sat straight on the chair, the guidance of the blood-soaked ropes kept him up high. His head dangles to the side, his open throat bleeds lavishly down his white shirt; the horrifyingly stark contrast of vermillion to alabaster sets an aberrant spark of terror in your bones.

Then the slit of his apertured stomach leaks all his visceri, a pool of blood beneath his feet and the chair, staining your grass red. You drop the flashlight without your knowledge, the light shining his wretched sneakers instead.

Your hands shakily grasp your mouth, your lips twisting drastically into a choked sob as tears try to sting your eyes. A couple of them drip down your cheeks, your crying more like heavy heaves and gasps.

“Eddie?” you whimper into the walkie. “Where are you? You- you have to come and get me and- and we h-have to call the cops. E-Hello…?” you bring the radio away from your face, staring at the small machine in horror. “Eddie?”

With perturbing fear, you force yourself to look up at Andy again. It’s only then you notice his eyes stare off into space, lacking the brash colors irises adorn — they aren’t blue anymore. It’s a pearl swimming in a milk of lifeless beauty; the barbaric aura of his eyes evinces you speechless, unable to look away from the monstrous crime.

His mouth gapes open, the shocking realization that no breath leaves his agape lips causes you to sob again, your feet bolting you back inside your home, body breaking at each step until you arrive inside your home in shambles.

You hit the walkie repeatedly and speak into it, the way Dustin would during ‘Code Reds’. “Eddie? Eddie!” you hiss. “You answer right-fucking-now. I need you to call the cops—”

With your constant walking back, and your shaky exhales and that ringing in your ears forbids you to hear what has happened inside the home. With one last step, your back meets something warm and acute, causing you to scream and pick up something close to you—a knife.

You point it to whoever it was, the tip meeting the intruder's black clothed mask. Your eyes are wide with fear that attempts bravery, the blunt knife threatening that person.

Your eyes meet the plastic ones, the mask sembles a ghost; its wide, parted mouth frozen like a haunted scream, but the vizard is nothing but dull with its aimless attempt to scare. Anamnesis, had it not been from the circumstances, you would have laughed at it.

You almost did.

“Hi,”

The voice is muffled, the sound marching to familiarity, to hesitance, to realization, to disbelief. You let out a shaky huff, your weapon trembling in your grasp.

“Eddie?”

His glove moves like a blur to remove his mask.

Eddie’s breathless and sweaty, droplets of blood splattered from his neck up to his jaw, the sanguine blood creating symbiotic art with his opalescent skin. He smiles, corners of his lips almost meeting his eyes, his dimples deep with pride, and his whiskey orbs wide in redolent mentality.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he tilts his head to the side, his crepuscular mouth still managing to make you swoon and forget about the horrors that cover his body. “Sorry I’m late, sweetheart,”

His hand gently pushes the knife down and you oblige, dropping it to the ground in a loud clatter that makes you wince.

Your head flips between him and the sliding doors behind you, which still shows Andy’s corpse from the flashlight you left.

“What did you do?” you query, bottom lip quivering as you look back at Eddie. He shrugs with no care, his eyebrows raised to his forehead.

“I killed them,” he says bluntly, his smile falling a little. “I told you I could kill more than just a rat, babe,”

“Wh-what so you just—decided to suddenly kill them? While we were talking about- about rats and shit?!”

Eddie shakes his head, worry filling his features. Though, he’s worried more at the fact that you may fear him for what he’s done. He bends down, his bloody, gloved hands reaching to grasp your shoulders, which causes the thick substance to stain your white sweater.

“No, baby, no,” he tuts, pouting a little, his hands smearing themselves over your clothing like he’s trying to clean his hands before he cups your face, his gloved thumbs wiping your barely there tears. “I was already thinking about this months ago. Rage does something to your mind, sometimes,”

You whimper and his features soften. “What- what do you mean?”

“Sweetheart, I just told you,” he pushes your hair away, patting it down. “I was mad. I am mad. I couldn’t just sit there and let them taunt me when I’m all defenseless, baby. Life isn’t like that—you’re supposed to fight back.”

“Fight back, not kill them!” you say through gritted teeth, chest heaving brokenly. “Eddie, you’ll go to jail. People will find out,”

“They won’t, baby. Not with this mask,” he takes it from the counter, the absence of his hand from one of your cheeks leaves something cold on your bare skin. “Besides, no one’s roaming around, remember? Everyone’s at the town fair, and we don’t have any surveillance cameras now, do we?”

You sniffle, can’t decide between leaning in his covered hand or flinching away from the smell of blood. But his eyes—Eddie’s eyes, oh, you can see well every shift of emotion, desecrating each one with something new and peculiar; he exceeds the threshold of creativity with it, almost like an actor. Just… more quixotic.

Yet, despite your knowledge of it, you’re still surprised and fooled with the way the madness in his eyes swiftly changed into something like begging and forbearance. How all that insanity melts and twinkles into silk kindness, like he’s your Eddie again.

He sees your fear.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” his hands leave your face for a moment to discard his blemished gloves. Your heart relaxes at the feeling of his rough palms on your soft cheeks, eyes scanning his blood doused rings. “You know I love you, (y/n). I could never, never ever, hurt you,”

Eddie’s anger has clemency incarcerated; all that self-restraint had finally become impuissant. You couldn’t blame him for finally snapping.

“And,” he continues. “You wanted this too, remember? All that taunting, all the horrible things they said to you. And I know it’s all because of me, princess. So I had to handle it. It’s all in my hands, baby.” his fingers travel down to yours, bringing your hands up to his lips and kisses each dip of your knuckle. “Yours are all pretty and clean. Sinless,”

“I wanted them to pay. I didn’t want them to die—”

“Sweetheart, you did,” Eddie says sternly. “I did this for you. Before we go away to stupid college.”

You start sobbing again and he shushes you. You don’t know why tears aren’t rolling down your face and it frustrates you.

“You killed them,” you spit out. “That’s- that’s murder…”

“No shit,” he snorts.

“It’s wrong,” you blink rapidly, nostrils flaring. “You killed them, Eddie. And you expect me to- to what? Think of this as some sort of gift? Dead people as a gift?”

Now, he’s angry. His face hardens, his jaw clenching. Eddie shakes his head like a disappointed father at you.

“Learn how to appreciate things that are done for you, (y/n).” he says loudly. “They deserve it. They’re bullies. And bullies need to be punished,” Like a switch, though, his anger morphs into exasperation. “Baby, you know I love you, right?”

You only stare at him with whimpers trying to escape your mouth.

Eddie grasps your face tighter, you wince. “You know that I love you?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, nodding rapidly. “Yes. I- I know.”

“Then let’s celebrate it, okay?” Eddie’s face moves closer to you, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. “No more bother, am I right?”

Letting out an exhale, you shake your head.

“Good,”

Eddie leans down to capture your lips on his own, feverishly and almost passionately. Your hands wrap around his wrist when he tilts your head back as he straightens his spine, his mouth venturing deeper to let his tongue wander inside.

He smells of dirt and sweat, with whoever’s blood around his neck. The surrounding thought of death continues to imprison your mind, but Eddie overpowers it. Now, it’s just Eddie, Eddie, blood, hunger, and Eddie.

You try not to moan when his lips break away from yours, kissing his way from your cheeks down to your jawline, littering heat ‘till he reaches that spot of yours he knows you love so much.

Eddie spins you around until the dip of your spine meets the countertop. Your hands grasp tightly at his shoulders, eyes fluttering as he sucks and bites at your sweet spot like it’s his breakfast, his hands leaving his face to clutch and grasp at the swell of your ass.

Your periphery shows you the blurred image of Dead Andy once more, but you’re starting not to care. Not when Eddie licks up at your salty skin. His fingers dance from your ass until he’s gripping your thighs and lifting you up to the counter.

“Fuck, uh, Eds,” conscience tells you what you’re doing is wrong. That moral doer of an angel whispering in your ear. You almost succumbed to her. But the devil tells you to keep going. Fulfill your fantasies. You’re already there.

He pulls away from your neck, leaving short kisses on your lips repetitively. “God- you’re so pretty,”

His bare hands start to wander everywhere. Eddie clutches at the end of your shirt, urging you to move your arms up and you do. He discards the bloody sweater and throws it somewhere.

“Do you trust me?” Eddie asks.

With your whole heart. You don’t know.

“Yeah,” you sigh against him.

His hand moves behind him and pulls something shiny out. You frown at it.

“Is that my dad’s knife? Eddie, I told you—”

“I know, I know,” he chuckles. “Just wanted to have some fun, baby. Don’t worry, I’ll clean it.”

The weapon still had blood on it, dripping down to the handle, the curved tip, slick with crimson substance. You wonder whose it is.

He’s careful with it, making sure not to cut you with it, as his eyes wander over your bra. Eddie licks his lips at it, biting his bottom lip at the sight of the white lace that covers your ample tits.

“You gonna be a good girl for me?” he questions in a gentle susurration. You nod when you feel the wet knife drag down your stomach, a line of crimson painting your skin. “Words.”

“Yes,” Eddie looks at your wondrous gaze, cut short when the undulated tip dips inside your belly button and your head lulls back. “Y-yes,

Eddie’s knife, now owned by him from the sinful deed of murder, pulls away from your stomach to swim across your back, the cold spine of it pressing against your back, before the blade pushes up and cuts the fabric of your bra with ease.

“Oh, yeah, that's it,” he chuckles. “Look at your pretty tits babe.”

You don’t look at them. You look at his mesmerized look, watching him lean down to take a nipple into his mouth. You gasp, the hand that helps you prop yourself up the counter now grasping his damp curls, tugging at it, which elicits a groan from him.

He sucks at your buds, until they’re puckered and hard, ticklish when he blows air onto them. When he treats the other tit with the same hunger, and they’re all kiss-swollen and sensitive, he squeezes them in his hands before he pulls away.

You lean forward and pull on the collar of his ‘costume’, your mouth heavily watering as it parts, the need for something to fill it up so strong. Eddie chuckles, flips the knife in his hand until the bloody blade sits in his open palm and the black handle comes up to rest on your tongue.

You could practically see his cock bulging out from the black robe that covers him. Eddie coos when your lips wrap around the handle, the flat of your tongue pressing up on it.

“Get on your knees, sweetheart,”

Immediately, you do. With death no longer prevailing in your mind, you fall to your knees, the ends of his robe meeting your thighs. Eddie's hands disappear behind his robe, and you watch him until you see it loosen and fall behind him to the ground.

“Oh my god, you’re not wearing any jeans?” you look up at him through your eyelashes.

“This robe is heavy and it’s hot. I would die first before I killed them,” he snickers. You pull on the band of his boxers, driving them down until his cock springs up and his swell tip slaps up his shirt.

Eddie almost rips his shirt apart, tossing it where his robe was. You spit down your hand, a glob of white down your palm before you wrap it around his shaft. He moans.

“A little tighter baby,” you squeeze and he sighs. “Yeah, that’s it. Put that mouth into good use, come on.”

With something pooling in the apex of your thighs, your mouth hovers over his head, and you engulf its thickness into your mouth and suck. Both your hands pump him in a tight grasp, which makes his ass clench and buck up in your mouth that you gag at the sudden impact of his tip hitting the back of your throat.

You pull out and gasp, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his dick, your lipstick smudged all over his veiny base. You blink away the tears from your eyelashes, Eddie’s hands on top of your head but not forcing you down on him.

“Let me fuck your face, princess,” he pleads. “Relax your throat and let me do it, ‘kay?”

Your jaw practically unhinges, his musk heavily filling your nose that meets the tush of curls above his cock when he goes all the way in. Eddie moans a bit louder, the salty precum leaking down your loosened throat. His thrusts are slow, and albeit his previous aggression, he’s calm with the way he fucks your mouth dumb.

Hands greedy, they search for his heavy sack full of cum and play with them, unable to jerk his length when it’s deep in your mouth. Eddie laughs out a groan, his throbbing head twitching against your tongue, his thighs shaking and his hips involuntarily bucking again.

“Fuck, yeah, that’s it,” he cards his fingers through your hair, pushing it back until it’s wrapped in his hand like a makeshift ponytail. Your cheeks enclose around him, the lewd wet sounds of his slick cock being lathered by your tongue and saliva accompanied by his moans, your gags, and your humming.

You tug on his balls, cupping the squishy, loose flesh. You breathe in his spirituous scent, looking at him like you’d been praying to Hades; nothing but pliant as his dick names you stupid.

And Eddie—Eddie looks down at you like you’re the most precious thing he’s seen, awaiting to be corrupted but he thinks you already have been.

He keeps pulling out and fucking back in until real tears pour down your cheeks. Your lips all swollen and inflamed from the rough friction, eyes cockdrunk he’s amused with this sight of you all used up beneath him.

“Look at you, such a slut,” he coos, a soft tsk from his tongue. Two of his fingers tap your sucked cheeks as he continues to thrust into your face. Your head shakes as you take him deeper, smiling wickedly around him, teeth grazing lightly on his skin but fuck does he love it. “H-holy shit. Oh, god—”

His stomach clenches, his happy trail slick with sweat. It’s a telltale sign that he’s close and you keep on letting him fuck your face like it’s your dripping cunt. You suck his cock with every fiber being that builds you, until Eddie’s yelling and loud with his moan as he spills in your mouth.

That hot, pearlescent seed of his falls down your throat, its saltiness makes you mewl, swallowing every bit of his spent. Eddie’s hips stutter into your mouth, spurting and spurting until his dick aches and he pulls out.

“You alright?” his hands massage the sides of your neck, thumbs rubbing your throat. “Didn’t hurt, did it?”

“No,” you sigh. “Now come and fuck me, Ghostface. I’m tired of all this foreplay thing.”

Eddie laughs at your impatience, hands bunching up the fabric of your underwear before he rips it apart. Then he lifts you back up onto the counter, his knees nudging your legs apart, the slickness of your pussy dribbling down to the table.

“You and your inability to wait and have fun, sweetheart,” he leans down to kiss you, though it's more like wet pecks that litter across your head. “You’re taking the fun away,”

You pout. He kisses it again. “This whole thing is taking too long. Just— Eddie!”

“Okay, okay,” he grabs a hold of his cock, the other tight on the dips of your waist. “I got you, babe.”

He slaps his still sensitive tip on your clit, sending jolts of pleasure that shivers from your heat to your back down to your legs. You whine softly, bucking your hips forward, until Eddie finally slips his head in your tight hole.

When he pushes in and finally settles deep inside your warm cunt, you feel full. In the way you wanted to be filled. You forget the fact that your boyfriend—who’s cockdeep inside your cunt—has killed someone and left them tied up at your backyard and now you’re having sex.

You don’t care. It’s been your plan all along anyway.

Eddie’s tip meets your cervix through a rough, blissful stab. He doesn't start slow like what he did with your mouth; no, he's brutal. Unforgiving with his bloodthirsty hip snapping. You moan loudly at each thrust, your nails scraping along his back.

You see the blood splattered across his tattoos, like his cloak had been futile at its attempt to keep his sacred body clean. The demon sure brought itself to life, dripping down to his hip and smeared across his bone, and Eddie never looked more alluring.

The bright lights of the kitchen adds a sheen layer of pandemonium that splits between risqué endeavors; it exudes sex in the way that can only enthrall you, Eddie’s mind gone to mayhem from all that pent up emotions.

Cunt squelching from that wetness created by the taste of his cum still swimming on your tongue, you leave marks on his skin like he’s your art. Bloodied and bruised up Eddie should be everyone’s worst nightmare, you think. He’s karma brought to life.

With his blinding thrusts, you don’t notice him picking up his knife again, only to drag its crooked tip right on the soft column of your neck that’s covered in hickies. You smile a little, too drunk on the feeling of Eddie’s cock going in and out of your silky sex.

“What are you doing?” you pant, hands lazily wrapping around his neck. “You gonna slit my throat open?”

“Nah, babe,” his tongue pokes out in concentration, dragging the flat belly of the knife across. “Just gonna nick you for the hell of it. Just—”

There’s a shling sound of a sharp knife piercing lightly through your skin. From the kiss of the knife, you moan painfully, your hand wrapping around Eddie’s neck subconsciously as the searing affliction ricochets in a rapture whirlwind down your spine.

Eddie exclaims in pride; you feel the blood drip down your skin, pulsing and extravasating coldness. He slopes and presses the flat of his tongue to lap up at your thick ichor, mewling at your taste the same time you gasp out silent screams at his relentless fucking.

“You taste so fucking amazing,” he murmurs against your now blood-deluged flesh. Eddie consumes it all. “Wish I could just fucking carve my name onto you.”

You clench tight onto him, like you’re sucking him into you. Eddie’s eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Oh- oh, she likes that, doesn’t she?”

“Do that—shit, oh!– do that next t-time,” you giggle onto his hair that you clutch like a vice, his hot tongue continues swimming arousal down your split cunt.

His skin slapping against yours sounded like a hypnotizing siren, which kind of ameliorates the bawdiness of the shlick sounds of your pussy engulfing his luxuriant dick.

Eddie stabs the knife down on the countertop, places a hand behind you and the other wrapped around your sweaty waist and fucks you into oblivion. Your moans become carnally loud, enough to drive the neighbors away but also enough to appease your boyfriend.

And at each thrust—everytime he pulls you down to meet his hips—your orgasm protrudes on you like a knife. Closer and closer until it’s deep into your flesh and almost peeking out of your epidermis. You mewl into Eddie’s ear.

“I’m gonna cum,” you choke out. “Fuck– don’t– don’t stop. Don’t stop, don't stop, don't stop.”

Shameless, mimicked wails of ecstasy, cascading into soft ‘uhs’ when your lips dance across his earlobe. Eddie wedges his thumb between the place that leaves him wondering where he starts and where he ends, rubs your bundle of nerves that has been grinding against his coarse pubes in perpetuity.

“Gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” he grunts against your temple. “Go–shit–a-and cum for me, baby. Come on. Be a good girl and cum,”

Obeying him, you gush all over his sensitive cock that spills inside your trembling walls. Your hips stutter in the air, clenching, cunt guzzing all of his spunk. Eddie lets out one last moan before he slumps against you, his curls sticking to your skin.

You pull away, finally meeting Eddie’s usual wide, baby brown eyes full of wonder and excitement. “Hi.”

“Hi sweetheart,” Eddie kisses your cheek. “You did amazing, babe,” while he doesn't pull out, he does pull his hand out for a high five. Your palm meets his. “Love the crying bit, by the way. You could be in, like, a Stanley Kubrick film.”

Eddie pushes your hair behind your ears and leaves a peck on your lips as he swipes the sweat away.

“You said you wanted the roleplay to be convincing,” you argue playfully. “I seriously don’t like how you touched my dad’s collection, Eds,”

“It was for a good cause,” his cock softens inside you, and so does Eddie. “Baby, I didn’t scare you, did I?”

“Not at all,” you wrap your arms lazily around his neck, brushing his hair. “We signed up for this, remember? Killing them has always been our plan before we left. We just added the sex thing to have some fun,”

“You’re right,” he nods, eyes squinting. “No porn film can exceed the greatness of our roleplay. The killer, and the helpless little lamb. Shit, that could be the title,”

“The Horny Killer, and The Sexy Little Lamb,”

“Better,” Eddie kisses your nose, you giggle. “Wanna see Jason and Chance’s bodies?”

A year ago, your patience had been bound tightly around your heart. You were understanding, kind; nothing but a vestibule of angelicum.

That is, until you met the devil that succumbed into your sinful desires.

Eddie wasn’t like this before. But truthfully, he actually did just snap. He let all his frustrations go—from watching the light leave someone’s eyes, to fucking you like there’s no tomorrow.

His van doors open, tossing Andy’s heavy body into the back, right between Jason and Chance’s horrifyingly mutilated bodies. All their skins pale and their eyes defunct. You place your hands on your hips.

“Where’s Patrick?” you ask him.

“He was nice. Didn’t have the heart to kill him,” he pouts, wrapping his arm around your back and kissing your temple. “I was thinking of hanging them at the gym tomorrow on the last day? Right before I kill Principal Higgins?”

“Sounds like a great idea,” you rest your head on his shoulder.

Originally, you only planned on roleplaying. No murder, no knives, no fright, no blood. But there’s no harm in going a little bit psycho with this whole sex extravaganza. Everyone had their own kinks.

You’re just lucky enough Eddie felt the same.

You pick up the mask and put it over your head, Eddie’s faint scent of cigarettes and alcohol burning your nose. “I get to wear this next time, right?”

“Of course,” Eddie smiles. “But, you get to carve your initials on me next time.”

“Deal.”

reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ♡

#eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #ghostface!eddie #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut

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sardonic-the-writer · 7 months

Text

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐀 𝐅𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐢

↳ summary: another day with the turtles in which you get dragged behind and have your worst fear materialize in front of you. or; a reader insert of season two episode ten, fungus humongous

↳ warnings: unreality, body horror, mentions of gore, reader is a bitch, reader can't express their feelings, 2012 april (that's a warning in itself)

↳ notes: hinted at the reader having a thing for donnie, but it's left up to interpretation. could be read as platonic or for any other turtle/character. also i kind of hate this verson of april from the show, so apologies. i made the reader a bit passive aggressive to her when i could sneak it in there. could just be viewed at jealousy for donnie liking her. also, reader is gn and hinted at being autistic

↳ song: never—mag.lo & o super

next part! | masterlist! | commisions! | carrd

New York City was a strange place.

You'd learned that from a young age. Instead of watching a mother skip down the sidewalk with her chubby cheeked child in hand, you'd grown up around men with the same faces filing down side walks and inside of vans. Arms filled to the bring with glowing canisters and talking in the third person. Sometimes, in the place of cute stray cats or pigeons that you'd scramble off to feed bread to at the park, you'd see montserous shadows. Humans with the bodies of animals, making noises that would bring you to have nightmares for weeks to come.

Adults never believed you, writing it off as an imaginary friend, or simply the smoke in the air getting to you. And why should they belive anything else? It was as bizarre as it sounded, even to you.

Still, with all this weirdness, there were somethings you'd never get over. Like the fact those men that used to terrify you were actually robot powered aliens. Or that your best friends lived in the sewers, taught ancient ninjistu by their rat sensei.

But more importantly, you'd never get over how Casey Jones was absolutely demolishing this gyro right now.

With black and white facepaint smuged all over your friends cheeks and nose, you had the pleasure of sitting on the arm of a wooden street bench, watching with a blank expression as one of your two human friends tore into the street food, getting a bit of meat on April's shirt. Who by now had begun to regret sitting so close to him.

"You know Jones, I think this is the most disturbing thing I've seen all week." You grimaced. The hockey player had now moved onto licking the juice off his fingers, something you mimed violently vomiting at. April just rolled her eyes as she continued to listen to music.

"Ouch man!" Casey smirked as he pretended to be hurt by your words, crumbling up the left over paper from his meal and haphazardly tossing it on the ground below him.

"There's literally a trashcan right next to us." April sighed and looked up from her phone shaped like a turtles shell; or t-phone as you had come to know it. So generously gifted to her by the one and only Donatello.

You looked over to where she had gestured, holding one hand up to block the afternoons sun as it beat down upon you all. Sure enough, there was a rusty little bucket not far from the bench all of you had taken refuge on. Posters of all sorts of faded colors and advertisements were plastered on the cylinders sides. More lay fluttering in the hot wind on the pavement.

With a groan screaming of false annoyance, Casey stood up and meandered over to the litter, eventually tossing it with a swoosh into the basket.

"He shoots and he scores! Ten points for Jones." He pumped his fist in the air triumphantly, not caring that passerbys were now staring. Both you and April were subjected to an extremely bad victory dance as he celebrated.

"Now only if you could do that on the actual ice, Case." You grinned slyly. Casey frowned back at you, abruptly stopping his little celebration.

"I told you to stop calling me that. And whatever. Like you'd know the first thing about hockey." He said sourly. "Maybe if Red here gave me a good luck kiss before my games, I'd score more goals."

"And that's our cue to go." April stood up with a huff, pocketing her odd shaped phone. You stood up not far behind her, adjusting the strings on your hoodie. You knew April wasn't actually that upset by Casey's comment, in fact sometimes you thought she rather enjoyed the extra attention, but anything to stop his incessant flirting was a win for you.

"How about we head on down to the lair?" You suggested, noticing that the three of you were already making your way over to the nearest secluded manhole. "It has been a while since I've visited."

"Don't remind me." April smiled as she struggled to lift the solid peice of metal separating New York from its sewer sytem. "Mikey asks me where you are everytime I come down. He's even started pestering me for your address at this point."

"As much as I love the guys, I'm not sure my heart could take it if they started showing up on my fire escape every night. I don't need any more visits from Dr. Prankenstien than I already get." You snickered, following after Casey as he dropped down the ladder. He nodded along with your statement, holding his gloved hand out for a fistbump which you happily returned, albeit with a bit more force than necessary.

"Ooh, was that a challenge I just felt?" He grinned misheviously.

"Come on you guys." April scoffed, rolling her eyes at how both you and Casey punched each other in the arms and snickered.

"Just because you don't know how to have fun Red, doesn't mean we cant." Casey slung an arm around your shoulders with a toothy grin, yelping seconds later as you shoved him off of you with a frown.

"Right. Fun. That's exactly what I think of when I think Casey Jones April O'Neal and a stinky sewer." You parried.

"Hey! I thought you were on my side!" Casey frowned, jumping back up and rubbing the place you'd pushed him sorely. You stuck your tongue out at him and responded that he should know better than to touch you, then.

"Lay off guys." April chided you, missing the way your lips downturned at her words. "Besides. It's not like this place stinks that bad. You just have to get used to it."

You sniffed the air for a moment, immediately recoiling in disgust. Yeah. Definitely not.

"Sick dude."

"Actually," April halted in her speed walking to let the two of you catch up to her. As soon as you reached her side, you noticed the redhead was pinching her nose with a confused expression.

"Something does smell weird. Like— moldy cheese and puke."

You would've responded to her, probably with some sort of quipy comment, but the shrill sounds of a scream stopped you.

It didn't take long for the source of it to pass by you, what looked to be a sewer worker blubbering nonsense about a giant squirell. You were quickly reminded of a day a few months ago in which a mutated squirell clawed itself into your stoumach and reproduced. You shut down that memory with a shiver, jogging after an equally as panicked Casey and April to catch the stranger.

It only took a few turns around the place before all of you stood to a hault in a more open tunnel, no longer hearing the deep thump of the guys boots as he ran away from an unidentified source.

"Should we call out for him." You whispered, not really liking yourself for suggesting such a thing.

"Yeah. Go ahead Casey." April whispered right back, shoving the boy forward and shushing his protests. With a huff he started forward into the wet cavern.

"Hello? Crazy dude?" He sang. After looking around a tunnel opening for a few moments, Casey turned back to the two of you, gesturing harshly to follow him. You begrudgingly stepped forward, refusing to be at the end of the group where something could sneak up behind you. That privilege would have to be left to April.

"Somethings not right." She murmered. You turned to supply her with a sarcastic 'no, really?' but instead paused as she was sprayed in the face with a yellow substance. Blinking, you watched as she coughed in the powdery looking material. Another blink, and wherever it had came from was gone.

"April? You alright? What'd you see?" A hand was placed on her shoulder now. You felt the presence of Casey next to you now. Both of you were now watching as she began to shake, and you were staring to think that the scared worker might have actually seen something.

April's eyes opened suddenly, snapping to your face ferociously. You got one good look at her eyes, the whites of them tinged with yellow and red veins, before she let out the louded scream you'd ever heard. With a sudden speed you had no idea that she even had, April clawed at your hand wildly. You yelped, bringing it to your chest and scrambling back. Casey looked at you with wide eyes before turning back to April, catching the back of her just as she began to sprint away.

"April? April!!" He yelled, not making a move to chase after her. You did no such thing either, cradling your hand to your chest in shock. You didn't notice the little bit of blood trickling down from the moon shaped scratches. It stained your shirt, fading into a rust type color.

The two of you looked at each other in shock before speaking.

"What the fuck?"

Your lungs were screaming at you to stop by the time you'd reached the lair. You and Casey had both almost taken several breaks on your run along the abandoned railroad tracks, but once either of you got a look at your now less bloody hand— curtousy of a makeshift towel you called your shirt —the running would start again.

You thanked whatever god lied above for turnstiles as you flopped onto the cool metal of one, not even caring that Casey had to jump over both you and it to reach sight of the turtles. Who, from the sounds of it, we're watching a very loud episode of that old anime again.

"Oh hey guys. What's up?"

Before Casey could even open his mouth to respond to Raphael, a blur of orange and green was pouncing on you.

From his place sitting on your chest, Mikey yelled your name and smiled, clearly very happy to see you.

"Where have you been dude!" He laughed, getting off of you. Instead of allowing you to stand up or even explain yourself, he was suddenly grabbing you by your shoulders and bringing you into a spinning hug. Any other time you would have yelled at him to let you down and stop touching you, but now you were just yelling at him to shut up.

"Hey! You're here!" You heard Donatello call from afar, most likely waving. Maybe you did need to start visiting more if this is how they reacted to not seeing you for a month. Then again, anytime you came down here bad things happened. Like crushing hugs from a very strong mutant. Or best friends going insane.

"Guys! Stop!" Casey wheezed while waving his arms around wildly, succeeding in getting their attention. In turn Mikey let you down. Much to the appreciation of both you and your throbbing hand.

"April— sewers— gone crazy! Hurry!" He puffed, bending over to rest his hands on his knees.

The brothers all looked at each other with cocked eyebrows— save for Mikey; who was just now noticing the source of your discomfort.

"Woah, hey hey hey what happened to you?" He gasped with an overdramatic flair, picking your arm up by your wrist and pouting at the now dry blood on your hand. You smacked his own hand away from you, only feeling a bit regretful when he flashed a pair of sad puppy dog eyes at you.

"That's what we've been trying to tell you!" Casey groaned, extreamly annoyed at this point. "April attacked them! She went crazy! We were just on our way here, and next thing I know she starts acting all weird and runs off! She's gone!"

"Don't phrase it like that Case. Now Donnie's gonna—"

"You just lost April!?" You watched as the popcorn Donnie had been holding flew everywhere with the effort of him standing up. Well, standing up was a bit of an understatement. More like lept up.

With a sigh you watched Casey pale slightly, holding his hands up in preparation to defend the both of you.

"Relax!" Mikey sticks his tounge out at Donatello from next to you, still making grabby hands at you despite your efforts to keep him away. "I'm sure there's a logical explanation! Like she was eaten by a giant sewer snake or something. That's what you probably got bit by too." He turns to you at the last part and smiles. You resist the urge to smack him on the head.

"April clawed me you doofus. I didn't get bitten by a snake."

No sooner than the words were out of your mouth, you witnessed Casey get absolutely steamrolled by Donnie, yelling about how everyone needs to go find April. The action put a bit of a grimace on your face. Why, you had no idea, but you found yourself following after him anyway, grumbling that you better get free pizza for life after all you put up with for them.

Water splashed around your now ruined shoes as you followed after the turtles, occasionally kicking at a stray rock.

The sewers were much darker than earlier now. The dim light was no doubt provided by the setting sun outside. It was surely getting late now, and your body ached with the pang of hunger you normally got around dinner time. It would've bothered you, but you were more focused on not tripping over concrete and landing face first in shit right now.

You came to a sudden stop behind Casey, faintly recognizing your surroundings. One of his hockey sticks poked you in the forehead as he turned to adress everyone, and you rubbed at the spot.

"I think this is where we lost her." His voice was punctured with a little stammer, clearly a lot more bothered than he let on. A quick glance up confirmed that this was the spot the three of you had climbed down from a bit ago. You couldn't help but imagine the people on the streets above. Walking around without a care in the world. Certainly not thinking about kids loose down in the sewage.

"You think!? Oh well thats not vauge or anything." Donatello's angry voice called from behind you. It was enough to make you jump, something you'd deny if pointed out.

"Back of stick-master!" Casey snapped.

"Who you calling stick-master, puck-head!"

"Shut up Donnie." Any other day, and their bickering would have amused you. But right now just wasn't the time— if the look on your face wasn't evident enough.

The purple clad turtle turned to look at you in slight confusion, not expecting backlash from anyone that wasn't Casey. The others shared his look, too. At least before Casey let out a smug laugh, crossing his arms and stancing up before Donnie.

"You too, Jones. We need to get moving." You glared at the both of them icily, shouldering forward without a care. You missed the way the turtles exchanged glances with each other behind your back as they followed after.

"You alright?" Leo had called your name, water rippling around the both of you as he sped up to touch your shoulder tentivley. It wasn't a surprise when you shrugged it off. You always did that.

"Yes, Leo. I'm fine. I'd just like to find April and get a bandaid before I need another tetanus shot. Or whatever bacteria comes with human fingernails."

"She really did that to you, huh?" He pursed his lips with thought. Or whatever turtles have in replacement of lips.

You looked back at him, a harsh response sitting on your tounge. It was only the curious look he gave you that stopped it from becoming a reality.

"Yeah. It's whatever, I'll just patch it up when this is all done." You sighed through your nose.

"I think Master Splinter might have some bandages somewhere." Leo supplied, a hand on his chin as he thought about it. "If not, I'm sure Donnie has some medical supplies laying around—"

"If it's fine with you guys, I think I'll just go home and do it myself. Yeah?" You turned, walking in an awkward sideways position to keep the conversation going while looking at him.

Leo's furrowed his brow, flitting his eyes around your face in favor of ignoring Mikey from behind, who was saying something about rats while Casey retched.

"It's nothing against you, I just—"

You stopped suddenly, attention drawing itself to something over Leo's shoulder.

He turned his head quickly, hand twitching in the direction of his katanas hilts as he looked for what you were eyeing. All he saw was Casey stumbling around, coughing while waving a hand in front of his face.

You brushed past Leo, making your way to the back of the group to approach Casey. To quote April from earlier, something didn't feel right.

"Dude? You ok?"

"Yeah." He sniffed loudly. Like he had a cold. You watched cautiously as he avoided looking at you, instead focused on a nearby tunnel that split off from the main one you all were standing in. "I just. Just thought I saw—"

You were sent backward with an omph as Casey jumped back, yelping like a wounded dog. Your eyes locked with his for one moment, and your own widened as you noticed the same yellowy-red veins as before. Only this time, they were in the edges of Casey's eyes. Not April's.

"Demon rat!" He yelled. Hockey gloves pawed for purchase against the concrete wall he had pressed himself against as Casey scrambled to get a hold of something. He looked crazed. As if he could see and hear something you all couldn't.

It only worsened. You watched in a combination of confusion and horror as he began to dance around, hitting at himself like he had just walked through the world's biggest cobweb; screaming at you all to get them off him.

With a nod of affirmation from Leonardo, Donnie and Raph slammed Casey into the wall opposite he had just been clinging to. You caught a bit of satisfaction on Donatello's face as he did so, something that made you sober up for a moment to roll your eyes.

"What is your malfunction?" Raph scoffed before letting Casey's left arm go. Donnie followed, backing up with his hands on his hips sourly.

All Casey could do was let out a sob. He dropped to his knees on the ground, unscathed hockey stick clattering next to him.

"Guys, I think I have an idea of what's going on." One more look at Casey's distraught gaze sold it for you, and you leaned over to tell the others.

Right as they turned to you, a shrill screamed pierced the air, setting itself apart from Casey's defeated moaning.

"That's her!" You heard Donatello gasp. "April!"

And then Donnie was off, sprinting in the nearest direction of the sound without a care. It was like everything else was background noise to him. Your eye twitched as everyone else filed after the tall turtle, not once stopping to take in anything else. You grit your teeth, looking down at Casey's slumped figure before deciding to follow after them, cursing silently under your labored breathing.

By the time you'd caught up with them, they were all surrounding the newly found April in a semi circle, with Donnie crouching down to gently touch her leg. You could hear words of comfort floating from him to her at a rapid rate, and you might have said something snappy under different circumstances.

"Do you guys hear that?" Leo's hand came up for a moment to silence everyone. The remaining turtles standing all turned to look behind them and were met with the sight of you.

"Just me guys. No monster." You sarcastically spread your arms out.

"No. That!" Leo's finger pointed to something below you, and you turned on your heel to observe.

There was a strange blue sphere on the ground at your feet. It bumped into you once before stilling and flattening to the ground. Strange white stripes patterned it, and you all watched as it transformed into a mushroom looking shape.

You were quick to fall back towards April, who was still screaming and grunting in horror, as the others surrounded it curiously.

"It's a mutant mushroom! With feet!" Mikey cooed, clasping his hands together. That only solidified your worries.

"I'd get away from that if I were you!" You called out. Donnie, Leo, and Raph all looked at you for an explanation while Mikey continued to gush over the thing.

"Listen, something weird is going on with April and Casey's eyes, and I think it has something to do with, like, spores—"

You were shut down as the small glowing mushroom attacked Mikey, attaching itself to his face. The youngest turtle screamed and clawed at his face whilst running in circles. His sounds of distress only increased as the organism appeared to suck at his face. For a moment your brain made the connection between Mikey jumping on you earlier, and the fungi gluing itself to his head. You blinked and got rid of that thought as soon as possible.

The boys immediately jumped into action, weapons coming out as soon as Mikey threw the thing off his face and at the nearest wall. It was times like these you really wished you'd taken up Splinters offer to learn martial arts, but you'd convinced yourself you already had too much on your plate for that. At least you knew how to wield a tazer well enough.

"Fascinating!" You heard Donatello grunt inbetween swings of his bo staff. "Evolved fungi!"

All it took was a few more jabs from Raph before a yellow haze drifted his way, emerging from the flaps underneath the mushrooms umbrella.

Without missing so much as a beat, the thing rose into the air and flew in your direction, looking as if to make a home on your face now. With a quick unholstering of the only defense mechanism you had, you produced your cheap tazer, nailing the thing straight between the eyes. Er, did it even have eyes. Either way, it dropped to the floor, and the air began to smell less like piss and more like sautéed shrooms.

"Just stab the damn thing next time!" You yelled, hands shaking and still holding out the tazer at arms length. All the turtles but Raph looked at your trembling arms with wide eyes, and you crossed your arms stiffly to cover it up. They didn't need to see how upset you were getting right now.

You would never understand why they all went for blunt force trauma instead of using the edges of their weapons to slice stuff. Maybe it was a ninja thing. A really, really stupid ninja thing.

"Are you alright?" Leo stepped forward with his arm outreached, voice soft with what you hoped to god was not pity. Donnie followed suit, and for a moment you though he might be the slightest bit worried about you. At least, until he brushed right past your shoulder to go cradle April again.

"Just peachy Leonardo." You growled at him, and he retracted at the use of his full name. "It's not like I've been trying to explain what I think has been going on for the past— oh come on."

You were immediately cut off as Raph began to scream at the sight of you all. With each passing second, the urge to bash your head into the wall was getting stronger and stronger. Now you remember why you stopped coming down here so often— if this tension headache you were getting was proof enough for that.

With a few more unintelligible shouts, Raph jumped at Leo with a battle cry, looking like he was out for blood. Leo simply crouched down, letting Raph fly over him and land plastron first on the ground.

"Donnie, explination?" Mikey shouted. He was now brandishing his own nunchucks and swirling them around hesitantly.

"Wish is knew!"

"I smashed you once roach and I'll smash you again!" By now Raphael was up again. This time he was ready to attack with more than just his bare fists, and was gunning right for Leo.

"Roach?"

That clicked it all into place for you. With one more look around the tunnel, sounds of fighting echoing off the walls, you cupped your hands around your mouth.

"The mushrooms are spreading a fear toxin!" You shouted with the risk of losing your voice th next day. If you even stuck around long enough to see the next day.

"Thats why everyones eyes are turning different colors and they're acting so weird! The plants are making them see their worst fears!" This time you thought you might explode if the turtles didn't hear you. Thankfully, you watched as a bit of recognition creeped into Donatello's face at your words as he dodged another attack from Raph.

"Its fungi, not plants, but they're right!" He yelled over all the noise. With a yell, he caught one end of Mikeys nunchucks in his hand and wrapped it around Raph's torso, watching as Mikey did the same with his end. By the time they were done, Raphael was now a squirming mess on the ground, looking just as terrified as Casey and April did. Only he was more dangerous than them. A lot more dangerous.

"So what, you're telling me that that tiny little guy is causing all of this?" Leonardo huffed while standing to his full height. Mikey was the sole one restraining Raph now as you approached them all.

"That's what I've been trying to say for the past ten minutes when you keep inturrupting me!!" You seethed. Leo was the only one who had the chance to look sympathetic. That didn't stop you from hitting him on the top of his shell in frustration.

"Ow! We're sorry, we're sorry!" He winced.

"Good." You sighed, already starting to feel a little better about this situation. The hollow feeling of behind over looked still lingered, but you were focused on other more important things now. Like finding out how to counteract whatevers being sprayed around.

"Donnie, do you think if we got back to your lab you could test this for a solution?" You didn't even have to turn around to know that he was busy fawning over April, instead just amplifying your voice so he was sure to hear.

"Maybe—" He mused, bringing his hand up to rub at his chin thoughtfully. You'd been in his lab enough times to know what he was about to go off on a tangent, "—but it's more likely that there's an easier solution to this problem. Fungi normally spawn from a bigger sorce, and since there seems to be a cluster around here infecting our friends, there must be the orgins of it nearby."

"So we find it, and do some gardening." Leo smiled from beside you, bringing out his blades in a gaudy move. You just gave him a blank stare.

"What? It was a good line!"

"You need to work on your improv skills, Leo."

He sighed and lowered his weapons. Cocking one side of his hip up in the way that he does when he goes into leader mode, Leonardo went to say something else to you—probably that you all should get a move on—when a flash of neon blue entered your peripheral.

"Oh shit!"

A mouthful of nasty tasting yellow dust spread all over the bottom half of your face in a fine mist. It settled on your tongue, feeling like partials of a cotton ball had been sprinkled on it. Coughing, you stuttered in your stance to heave forward. This felt different than what you thought it would be like. You didn't think that the ground was supposed to be swirling like that.

The last thing you saw before the world flipped on it's axis was a bo staff cutting the mushroom above you in two.

You woke up with your head feeling like someone had used it as a drum in a marching band.

"Did any of you get the number of that bus that completely fucked me over?" You groaned out sardonically, not willing to open your eyes and subject yourself to the light of the world just yet.

When no one responded, you reluctantly pried your eyelids open.

You were in a different tunnel now. It looked like it belonged to the same one connecting your friends lair to anywhere else in the city, but what did you know. It wasn't like you knew anyone who lived down here or anything.

Hauling yourself up took more strength than you wanted to admit. Half of your face felt numb, and the other hald itched something awful. The sensation was killing you almost as much as this silence was. Almost.

Standing all but a few meters away from you were six figures. They looked to be your friends, but something was off. They were all motionless with their backs faced to you, and covered in a thick layer of what looked like black goo. It dripped off of them and to the ground, pooling between their feet and leaking in your direction.

"Guys?"

As soon as you take a step in their direction, all their heads snap toward you at an unnatural angle. You half expect a cracking of bones to follow the movement, but all you hear is the sound of your heart drop.

"What's going on." This time you take a step back, not forward.

It's at this point that you notice your surrounding changing. It never stays the same for more than a second, constantly twisting into something more frightening than the last; all plucked from your worst memories. The kraang cell you had been thrown in once. The pool you had been forced to take swimming lessons in as a child. Your eigth grade classroom, watching as your teacher explained to your parent that you'd never amount to anything.

Finally it settled on the lair.

You refused to be backed into a corner like all those horror flicks you'd seen with the boys. With each step the figures of your friends took, you took one back, shuffling around in circles to avoid getting trapped.

You were starting to get lightheaded with how fast you were breathing at this point.

"What?" You eventually murmered, your pupils pinpricks at this point. Your ears strained to pick up what sounded like words in response.

"Leave." Was what you eventually heard come from the clone of Raphael. Because that's what he was. A clone. Not the real thing. He couldn't be. The Raph you know wouldn't tell you to leave.

The more you thought about it, the less true that seemed.

"Leave?" You echoed. The back of your foot hit one of the arcade machines lying around before you scrambled to get around it.

"We don't need you anymore." This time your eyes snapped to the clone of Mikey. His eyes were nothing but static in that eerie black goo. You couldn't bring yourself to look at it for more than a second.

"I don't understand." Words were becoming harder and harder to pronounce. You tripped over them as your footsteps slowed.

"They never valued you. Even as a human, I could see that." The verson of Casey hissed through his distorted mask. It looked more like an actual skull than the crude spray painted verson you had grown so accustomed to.

"Why did you think we'd ever like you, when you've never even tried to like us." Leo was the second closest to you and approaching slowly. His speed should have reassured you, but something about the unrelenting and unchanging pace only made you want to hurl.

"I do like you guys!" Instead of a fierce cry coming from your throat, it was a pathetic whine. A round of hissing laughter passed through the ranks of your friends. Wait, your fake friends. These weren't the real ones. You knew that. You felt like you were supposed to know that.

"Pathetic." April's voice sounded like it came from a scratched record. Her teeth sharpened with each syllable. "I was here first. And I'll be here long after you."

"Shut up!" It was your turn to yell. You didn't mean for it to be so loud, you really didn't, but the words tore itself from you like a scream. You didn't scream. You really didn't. Not in front of other people. Not like this.

Your feet had stopped moving now. They felt like lead. Incapable of moving any further without the force of a hundered men. When you looked down, you discovered they were ensnared in metal cuffs that tightened the more you hyperventilated. Twelve chains lead away from them. You followed each with your eyes, eventually finding yourself staring right back at the soupy expanse of your six former friends. Twelve chains. Two for each of them. One in each hand.

You were brought to the floor and dragged forward. Your pants tore against the floor, leaving what was sure to be a plethora of holes if you were to check.

Fingernails broke off and bled as you desperately tried to clawed away. You reached at the hem of your pants to look for your tazer, only to come up holding a ripped picture.

It was the one you had taken of everyone after defeating the kraang. It had been a celebration. A time to bathe and relax in the fact that you all had won. Everyone had smiled as you set the five second timer on your phone, Mikey even sticking a pair of bunny ears over Raphs head without him noticing.

You looked at the spot where you were supposed to be, only met with the sight of a cut out hole.

"Out of all the delusions that have run through your head—" You looked up at the only one that had yet to speak yet. Donatello's gap toothed grin sneered down at you from your spot on the floor, your mouth drying at the mere sight of it.

"From us actually caring about you—" The chains around your legs were only spreading higher along your body now, growing past your hips.

"To thinking that we actually cared when you'd visit again—"

Donatello crouched down. The black ooze around his face parted for just a moment. Instead of the cool tint of his green skin being revealed, or that purple bandana you had hidden many times in a playful manner, all you saw were tissue sinew and blood. Flesh peeled away and drooped down his face like sad wallpaper. You choked on your own bile as he grinned at you without skin around his mouth, making a grotesque clicking sound with his teeth.

The only thing that remained normal was his reddish brown eyes. They looked at you, locking you in place with a liquid hate you had only seen from him in your nightmares.

"The funniest delusion of all, was believing that I could possibly like a person like you."

Your eyebrows pulled together in terrified confusion. Sweat dripped down your head and trickled uncomfortably to the ends of your earlobes. Your chest felt the tightest it had in your life; heartbeat practically nonexistent.

You wanted to say you had no idea what he was talking about. That he was being insane. More insane that what was already going on. But the way you reacted to his words, your ears ringing with hurt and eyes pricking with acidic tears, you knew there was some truth to it. Why you were constantly put out with his efforts to pursue April. How your face dropped at each lovestruck look he tossed at the back of her head. All those jokes you'd made about Donnie being insufferable when your friend was around; maybe not being as much of a joke as you'd thought.

You don't think you'd ever realized your ulterior motives in all those acts yourself. Maybe you wouldn't have ever if it hadn't been pointed out.

Nothing more was said, because nothing else had to be. Donatello's face sewed itself back up with a sick slurping noise, returning to fuzzy gray eyes and a black exterior. With prolonged movements, he reached for the staff on his back. It was also dripping with goo, a few droplets splattering on your already ruined clothes as he hovered one end over your face. You recognized it as the end a blade was set to come out of.

Looking back up at all of them, the chains in their hands were all gone. They didn't need them anymore. It's not like you would be going anywhere. After all, everything below your head was encased in metal. Set to rot for all eternity.

A flash a silver and the snap of a button being clicked was what sent you into darkness for a second time

"I think they're waking up!"

"Get off my table Mikey. You'll break something again!"

"Is it too late to punch his face in?"

"Guys shut up. They're awake."

Taking a moment to steel your nerves against all of the elements suddenly attacking your senses, you inhaled with a hiss, an earthquake of deja vu sweeping over you with its delightful aftershock know as nausea.

The feeling of a cold metal slab underneath you alerted you that you were in Donnies lab. Most likely lying face up on his makeshift opperating table he'd crafted out of a d.i.y welding set and spare metal slab. And if any of the very poorly concealed whispering told you anything, there were going to be quite a few mutant turtles staring down at you when you opened your eyes.

You decided to peak one open to check.

Yep. Definitely a few of them.

"I saw that! Hey, did you guys see that! Their eye moved!" You heard what was most likely Mikey flail around somewhere on your left side. A few frustrated voices snapped at him to calm down, resulting in what you guessed was a raspberry to be blown back at them.

"We know you're awake." Raphael called your name blandly. You answered with what you thought was going to be a coherent string of curses, but instead was just a really scratchy sounding groan.

"I think they said, Michelangelo is the bestest turtle of all time. And also the handsomest." You felt three giant fingers grab onto the flesh of your jaw and move your mouth up and down as Mikey did a horrible impression of your voice. Treating you almost like you were a life sized ventriloquist dummy. With a grunt and a strain of your neck, you garnered enough strength to reach up and bite at his finger, inwardly pumping your fist in the air as you heard him yelp and the feeling of fingers left your face.

"Ok now we know for sure you're awake sleepy head." You felt another finger poke the side of your head, retracting fast enough so you didn't have to chance to bite them too.

Finally giving into the curse known as getting out of bed, you opened both your eyes and tilted your head down to stare at seven sets of separate eyes.

Even Master Splinter was here. You must have been out for a while.

"How long." Was all you could manage as you propped yourself up on your elbow.

"Ten years."

"How long, Donatello." You enunciated Donnies name this time, glaring at Casey who looked very amused at his own joke.

"Fourteen hours." He barely glanced up from something he was tinkering with in his lap, looking rather focused. "It's almost noon."

That was enough to shock you up, looking around to land on April's figure as you sputtered.

"Our presentation was due today." You coughed out. She nodded, bringing her t-phone out and gesturing to it.

"I already called the school. Said we had both spent the night together and got sick. They bought it like a charm."

"What about you Casey?"

"Eh. I never show up to class anyways." He shrugged. "What's another absent day for the Jones?"

"That might explain the lack of intelligence." You heard Donnie whisper. It was followed by a soft crack and him yelping in surprise. You looked and saw nothing but a faint red mark forming on Donnies arm. If you glanced at Splinter long enough, his tail twitched once as he smiled.

"Well that's good to know." You nodded at April. "Now can someone tell me why I'm surrounded by everyone I know this side of the Hudson?"

"Like Donnie said, you were out for fourteen hours dude! That's, like a whole day! We were worried." Mikey waved his arms in the air wildly and spun around in a rolly chair. You weren't sure where he got it from, but Donatello didn't look to happy about it.

"My sons told me about what happened." Splinter interjected. Everyone turned to look at him as he leaned on his emerald cane, eyes sparkling with a fierce emotion you couldn't place.

"You were all very brave in your mission. For that I comend you. But it seems that out of everyone, you were hit the hardest by the fungus." He ended his statement in your direction with a calm tone, doing nothing to ease your worries. Breaking eye contact with him was harder than you would have liked.

"So you guys figured out how to stop it then?"

"More like Leo did." April smiled. "We found him passed out and surrounded in shriveled mushrooms, looking like he had the fight of his life."

"Against a colony of shrooms?"

"The biggest one was at least fifteen feet tall."

"I take it all back. Leo you're the best." You snickered as you carefully slid off the table, feeling confident enough to stand now. You did your best to ignore the feeling of so many sets of eyes as you did so.

"So. What was your hallucination about?" Raph was the one to break the ice, scouring your face for any sort of hint. You barely held back a wince at the question. Maybe if the memory had come back to you in bits and pieces like it did to people in the movies, the question wouldn't have off put you that bad. But instead, you'd woken up and found yourself already remembering each and every bit of the nightmarish hell you'd been trapped in.

"Raph's was about cockroaches!" Mikey sang, laughing as he poked fun at his older brother. Raphael just growled and curled his fists into balls, probably holding himself back because Splinter was standing right next to him.

"Yeah? Well Mikey's was about alien squirells!" He pointed a finger at his brother angrily. And offended gasp punctuated his accusatory tone.

"It's squirellanoids! And they are much scarier than cockroaches or rats!" Mikey whined back.

"Rats?" You question, tossing a split second glance to Splinter. Somewhere next to you Casey groaned, clearly the culprit of what you assumed had been the fur induced visions.

"Can we go back to what your thing was now?" Casey said with hot ears, clearly not appreciating his fear being put on blast while April was in the room.

You pursed your lips and directed your gaze to the lab wall behind everyone. Peeling skin and puddles of oil looking sludge flashed behind your lids each time you blinked. With it left the stabbing sensation of tears. Something you despised; especially while in the presence of others.

"Nothing much." Was what you settled on, moving forward before anyone could say anything else. "What about you, Donnie? Did you end up getting sprayed?" It was almost ironic how you immediately chose to single him out after replaying the events of your nightmare in your head. A part of you scoffed at it.

"I uh—" His face grew warm at your query and he refused to met your gaze, "—I don't want to talk about it."

With a shrug you dropped the topic.

"Mind if I go get something to eat? I, uh, kind of feel like I'm dying here." You nodded toward the door nearest the kitchen, once again changing the subject. Mikey immediately ran to it at the mention of food, screaming about pizza. According to the others, he had been waiting all day to crack open a pizza to eat with you. And you weren't about to deny him now.

As everyone filed out into the common room, a light hand placed itself on your shoulder. Without even looking back you knew who it belonged to and only confirmed it once locking eyes with Master Splinter.

"My child," He began softly. "I know we do not have the bond you do with my sons, but if you ever feel troubled, my dojo is always open for you. The mind is your most powerful weapon, and it would be a mistake to let it stew in its own treachery."

You didn't make a move to shrug his hand away or even leave. Instead you looked at him curiously, searching for even a hint of insincerity. When you found none, you just nodded.

"Now go. I know you are eager to join the others."

Splinter watched as you retreated to the playful shouting coming from the other room, hands coming to rest on the peak of his cane once more. You reminded him of his sons. Too much of his sons.

He was just glad that you'd all found each other. He might have gone insane if he had to entertain those boys the rest of his life.

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archangeldyke-all · 3 months

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doing asks publicly makes me so nervous but i'm gonna do it anywayssss. i sent you a couple of asks but you said you didn't get it so im gonna send you this one that i've been thinking about for a hot minute-- i think its really cute like omgmgggg ANYWAYS

sevika with a younger (20s) vampire reader who watches her from afar and leaves her really pretty vintage looking gifts, romantic poems, and cute love notes? basically just the reader leaving stuff that sevi takes an interest in!! i'd love for this to be with a black reader if possible <3

this is so cuteeee!!

a quick note and disclaimer before we start! i don't know much about vampire lore, just the very basic stuff, so i apologize if this isn't the exact vampire vibe you were hoping for, or if i get some things wrong, i'm mostly just guessing hahah. also! i'm white, and i'll try my best to make this an obviously black reader without shoving it down your throat, but if i get anything wrong, please lmk and i'll fix it right away :)

men and minors dni

zaun is a great place for a vampire to live. sunlight rarely reaches the low levels of the city, leaving you free to roam whenever you want, day or night.

additionally, the abundance of crime and violence, as well as the lack of any real help from piltover, means that the occasional dead body (both human and animal) with puncture wounds in their necks go relavitely unnoticed.

it's these reasons that made you decide to settle down in zaun for a while.

it's sevika that made you decide to stay.

you've never met the woman, at least not traditionally, but that doesn't mean you don't know her.

the first time the two of you crossed paths was one late night in the dingy streets of the lanes.

you were starving, out searching for a rat or cat or maybe even a man harassing some poor girl to sink your fangs into. you had wandered away from your usual haunts and toward the newly re-furbished 'last drop.'

rumor had it that the new owner had some shady dealings on the side. you figured it'd be a good as place as any to catch a scumbag in action, or maybe find someone so drugged out on shimmer they wouldn't notice waking up the next morning with a pint of blood or so missing.

as you approached the bar, the few stragglers out this late grew into a rambunctious crowd. you grinned, ducking into a dark alley, licking your lips in anticipation of your next meal.

it took no time at all for you to find your target. a crowd was standing outside the bar, laughing and goofing off as they played with a handful of dice and passed around some cigars and joints. a girl in the crowd kept winning, and you watched as one of the men she was with grew more and more irritated as she continued to pick up her winnings.

the second he put his hand on her in an attempt to pull her back and backhand her, your fangs descended, knowing you'd found your guy. you ducked out of the alley, reaching out to grab the man by the bicep and pull him toward a shadowy corner.

but before you could touch him, he was being harshly pulled away from the young woman and thrown on the pavement.

you paused in the mouth of the alleyway, watching with increasing interest as a tall, strong woman towered over the man, glaring down at him.

she was smirking. you found yourself smirking too.

"what did i tell you about hitting women in my bar?" she rasped out. the man on the pavement beneath her pissed himself, his pants quickly growing dark as he shook in fear. the crowd he was with had dispersed, but a few eyes were watching and shaking their heads in admonishment of the man.

"i-i'm not in the bar sevika, we're outside!" the pathetic man cried. the woman above him laughed, and you watched in fascination as a blade slowly descended from her red poncho. he squealed.

"i swear i won't do it again!" he tried, scrambling away on his back as he tried to evade the woman. she smiled down at him, chuckling as she shook her head.

"no." she said. "you won't."

in a flash, the blade at her side swung down across his neck.

your stomach growled as the smell of blood drifted over to where you hid, and your loins stirred as you watched the woman keep eye contact with the man until his sputtering and twitching halted, and he died. she spat beside him, then turned to walk back into the bar. her bar, apparently.

when no one was looking, you quickly drug the body to the alleyway. his neck was tattered, but you were able to get a pretty decent feed by draining his arms at his wrists.

and after cleaning your mouth, relishing in the warmth quickly pumping through your body, you entered the bar, and spent the rest of the night in a dark corner, your eyes trained on the strong woman as she made rounds around the bar, occasionally pausing to join a game of cards or drink a whiskey.

since then, you've spent almost every night watching her.

you've learned a lot about her since you started watching her. like how in public, while she's at work, she carries herself around with a straight spine and no-nonsense attitude. but while she's at home, alone in her apartment, she's softer. she likes reading, especially romance novels. and she trades out her whiskey for a sweet white wine when she's really into a book.

she sleeps on her side, facing the door like she's ready for the first sound of danger. there have been a few times that she's left her window cracked and you've carefully floated in through her curtains, hovering beside her as you watch her breathe.

you've touched her once, running your finger down the pretty blue scars on her face. she had shifted and murmured, but hadn't woken up, seemingly not finding your presence threatening.

she smells incredibly fucking tantalizing.

not in the way humans usually smell attractive-- like blood and sweat and life. no, she smells better. she smells warm.

warm like whiskey and vanilla wraps for her cigarillos. warm like the brown sugar body wash she uses, warm like the wool of her favorite poncho.

you swore to yourself you wouldn't act on your attraction. you swore to yourself you'd just watch-- not interact.

but then, one night as you were watching sevika eat a cold, lonely dinner in her apartment, she broke down into tears.

your heart broke. you almost revealed yourself to her, just to wrap her up in your arms and press a kiss to her head.

and when she went to sleep that night, you just had to do something to make her feel a little better.

you quickly rushed down the street to the convenience store down the street, and bought the biggest bag of cheesy chips you could find. (you've watched the woman back away cheesy chips like she was preparing for hibernation-- you knew she'd like them.)

you left them on her welcome mat.

(and though you weren't there to see it, the next morning while sevika was leaving for work and she tripped over the bag, she stared at them in confusion for about three minutes, before a soft, sweet smile pulled up at the corners of her lips.)

the next night, when you came back to watch her through her window, you were thrilled to find the bag of chips half empty and sitting on her counter.

since then, you've given up on any and all semblance that you wouldn't interact with the woman.

your gifts have gotten increasingly intense.

they started with little snacks and trinkets left on her doorstep. but after the first time you saw her reaction, a little happy smile when she opened the door to a chocolate candy bar, your heart soared, and you gave up on keeping your gifts casual.

you started leaving bottles of her favorite whiskey.

then, the wine she sneaks when she's alone.

she was hesitant to open it. it sat on her counter for a week, like she was suspicious of the gift. but, eventually, she gave in and cracked the bottle open.

once she got used to her bottles, you took it up another notch. flowers from time to time. ointments and balms for all the cuts and bruises she's always coming home with. scented candles for her home, more blankets for her bed. (she's always shivering.)

one day you notice the shoelaces in her boots are fraying and old. so you bring her new ones.

one evening, you watch as she finished her smutty novel, then pout at her bookshelves when she realizes she's already read everything else on it. you bought her a series she didn't own yet.

you've even taken to getting dolled up before your nightly visits to her apartment, like she'll see you.

you feel ridiculous each time you apply your body butter and lay down your baby hairs just to watch a woman who doesn't know you exist sleep for a few hours, but you can't help yourself from the compulsion.

it's only when you start using her bodywash scent in your shower so you can always smell a bit like her that you finally admit to yourself that you might be a little bit in love with the woman.

just a little bit. (right?)

you start reading her romance novels in your free time, renting them out from the library and tearing through them in hours.

you're thrilled to find that all of them happen to feature two female leads.

you're also struck by the fact that her favorites-- the ones she reaches for time and time again-- all feature some sort of love letter confession.

so you make a plan.

it goes like this:

on week one, you start signing your presents with a simple "your secret admirer."

on week two, you leave a rose with every offering you bring.

(sevika keeps them all, hanging them upside down from her window so they preserve themselves.)

on week three, you start adding little notes to your gifts.

"your smile takes my breath away" (even though you don't really breathe anymore.)

"i hope silco doesn't piss you off today" (even though he pisses her off every day.)

"i wish i could sleep beside you every night" (even though you don't need sleep. you'd just like to hold her, protect her from whatever she's so scared of.)

and then, on week four, you decide to give her a letter. a full blown, totally honest confession about everything she's made you feel these past few months.

only-- something happens.

the night before you're meant to deliver the letter on her front mat, you feed off of a street rat. rat blood isn't nearly as satisfying as human blood, but you like to avoid actual murder when you can.

but this rat must have been poisoned, because you wake up with lead in your stomach and a hangover you haven't had since you turned.

you've accidentally ingested rat poison before. and while nothing can technically kill you, a whole lot of shit can make you horrifically sick until the blood works it's way out of your system.

so you have to put the plan on hold for a week.

on day one, you just lie in bed in agony.

on day two, you start shivering.

on day three, you manage to vomit up whatever of the blood remains in your stomach.

and today, day four, you wake up crying.

you miss sevika. as stupid as it sounds, she's been the most entertaining part of your life in... centuries.

and you can't see her. and you can't give her your letter. because you pass out each time you try to walk farther from the bed to the bathroom.

you groan at the ceiling as your stomach rumbles again.

"being a vampire fucking sucks!" you cry to your cat. she purrs in your lap and you sigh. "i can't eat food, i can't go in the sun, i've got all these stupid heightened senses-- and what's the point of being immortal if i can still get fucking sick?" you cry. your cat opens one eye to glare at you for interrupting her nap, before she rises and jumps down from your bed, running away.

"and now you're abandoning me in my time of need!" you wail after your cat.

there's a knock at the door.

you groan as you crawl out of bed-- your body is too weak to do any sort of flying right now-- and wander into the living room.

you're certain it's a neighbor, here to yell at you again for yelling at your cat.

but when you swing open the door, you almost pass out at the sight of sevika smirking on your doorstep.

you scream, leaping backwards, quickly snatching a blanket off the couch to wrap around your three day old soiled pajamas, and then gasp when you remember you have your bonnet on.

you reach up to pull it off-- then think better of it, knowing your hair's likely a mess beneath it. you haven't taken it off in days.

"uh." you squeak. sevika smiles at you.

"hey." she says. you blink, reaching up to rub your eyes, certain this is a poison induced hallucination. it's not, apparently.

"uh." you say again. sevika chuckles, then makes to enter your apartment.

"the rule is that vampires gotta ask to come inside your home, not the other way around, right?" she asks as she steps over the threshold to your apartment. you gulp.

"uhm..." you say, backing up until your back hits a wall.

sevika looks down at herself and shrugs. "i look fine. i guess i was right." she says. you squeak, and she smirks up at you. "i've missed you, y'know. got used to your little gifts." she says.

you gulp and blink again, trying to clear the apparition before you. sevika remains.

"today's the fourth day in a row i haven't heard from my secret admirer-- i got worried for you." she says.

you clear your throat and search for words. nothing comes up. eventually, you manage to say something, a shaky, nervous, "h-how?"

sevika grins.

"c'mon. i'm second in command to the eye of zaun, babe, i got eyes and ears everywhere."

"w-when--?" you try again. sevika laughs.

"since your first gift. i knew i felt someone watching me outside my window, i felt like i was going fucking crazy! then you left those cheesy chips, and i realized maybe whoever was watching me wasn't a threat." she says.

you squeak again, and sevika giggles.

"plus, i caught you a couplea times." she says. "you're not as stealthy as you think you are."

you pass out.

when you wake up, sevika's sitting on your couch, your head in her lap, your cat in yours. she smiles down at you. "welcome back." she says. you groan.

"this is humiliating." you mumble as you try to sit up. sevika keeps you pinned to her lap with a hand to your shoulder and you're too weak to fight her off.

"it's cute." she says with a shrug.

"i've been stalking you!" you say. she just laughs again.

"yeah, but you're cute. and harmless. and-- i'm not sure, but i've read a couple vampire romances-- isn't this your freaky way of courting me?" she asks. you groan at the cheesy wording but nod anyways.

"yeah." you mumble. sevika just chuckles.

it's quiet for a few minutes, and then sevika reaches down to grab your hand. "well..." she says. you blink up at her in confusion. "are you gonna court me or what?" she asks. you blink.

"wha-- seriously?!" you ask. she nods and shrugs.

"gimmie your best shot." she says. you smile, the horrible sickness in your body fading as a giddy feeling starts bubbling up in your stomach. you rise from the couch, rushing to your room to grab the letter, then running back into the living room, thrusting the letter into her hands. "i know you like corny love letters-- it's in all your favorite books." you admit shyly as you hand it to her. she grins.

"you read my books?"

"not yours. copies from the library." you say, shrugging. sevika smiles, then opens the letter.

it's quiet as her eyes scan the pages, the same little furrow in her brow coming up that always appears when she reads.

you bite back a gasp. you've never seen it so close-up before. she's so fucking beautiful, you have to clench your hands at your side to keep from reaching out and touching her.

when she's done, she looks up from your letter with tears in her eyes. you gulp.

"are you okay?" you ask. she swipes her eyes and nods.

"y-yeah." she whispers, a little waver in her voice. you melt, sinking back down on the couch beside her and wrapping your arms around her like you've been dying to do for months now.

sevika laughs in your arms, wrapping hers back around you then hissing when she feels how cold you are. you giggle.

sevika pulls away after a moment, her eyes locked on your lips.

"so... tell me about those fangs of yours." she says. you blink.

"w-what about them?" you ask.

"like, are they always descended or can you control it or...?" she asks. you gulp and shrug.

"i can control it." you say. she smiles.

"so, if i was to kiss you right now, you wouldn't slice my lip off by accident?" she asks. you laugh disbelievingly, then you scoot away from her.

"i--i'm sick." you say. she laughs.

"yeah, i gathered." she says, pointing at your wrinkled clothes and the bags under your eyes. "vampire sickness can't transfer to humans though." she says. you scoff.

"how do you know?" you ask. she shrugs and chuckles.

"i don't, i just really want to kiss you."

you gulp, a shaky sigh escaping your lips, before you tentatively lean forward and press your lips against sevika's.

she hums against you, and then she reaches out, grabs you by your pajama shirt, and hauls you into her lap. you squeak against her lips, and she licks into your mouth, moaning against you.

when she pulls away, you gulp at the powerful, fast pounding of her heart that you can hear from beside her.

"woah." you whisper. she smiles. "so... is that a yes?" you ask, referring to your letter. sevika snorts and lets out a bright laugh, and your heart fucking melts.

"definitely a yes, baby." she says, swooping in to kiss you again.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

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satubby · 2 months

Note

Heyyy❤️ writer,Your yandere concept of Ryu Si O was amazing.I literally loved it. I request you infact beg😭you to write a hot smut between Ryu Si O & his S/O which would also serve as the 2nd part of the yandere concept.Hope you'll write more amazing stuffs.I'm eagerly waiting for your updates.

Hello my beloved reader, I'm sorry for answering your question... so late but you know, I have school exams in a few months so I stayed away from the Internet. But I hope you like this NSFW scenario of Ryu Shi-oh, something yandere hehe.

Author's Notice: As such, this is told from the POV of our beloved Ryu Shi-oh....

'Baby, eyes don't lie.... Cause I know I love you' — <Based on the song: Eyes don't lie by Isabel Larosa>

If we were honest, the first time I saw you, it was in the worst conditions, both prisoners of our environment. Your smile did not flank even though you will receive blows, I insulted you and kicked you in those cells of Pavel where darkness was our days.

I thought you were a fool, I cursed you for months when you gave me hugs or smiled like a stupid despite your wounds, I was years before you in this crappy cell I called home.... In fact, I don't even know if it could be called that. I did not understand in those moments that those feelings unknown to me, would be the ones that torment me to this day.

That at some point I began to love you, even though we lived like animals struggling to survive, at some point it was comforting to know that you would live another day by my side.

I don't know at what point we began to embrace each other.... I don't know at what moment I opened my shell to you that had been closed so as not to show weakness, at what moment we both began to long for each other? When emotions were forbidden in that hell where freedom was a luxury and living a necessity.

I thought we could escape, that we would be happy out of that place, so I followed the foolish plan of the one I considered my friend at that time, but he was not, a simple rat who betrayed me as soon as he could.

I remember that day when we ran away, we left behind that hellish past but still both you and that bastard were caught, you cried smiling while you pushed me to escape, I did not want to but you begged me.... I saw with my eyes how you 'died' and that ugly image remained in my memories.

Then I wandered aimless until I discovered that the bastard I once called a friend was alive.

Somehow I forced myself to return with the uncertain hope that you were alive... Until at some point, I became that puppet that Pavel wanted so much, all because I was tied to those feelings for you.

Looking for you, I managed to rise to a little stronger and more influential, until that bastard told me that in fact, if you lived and that only made me angry, all those years they could have sent you to me but you were my leash... A strap that was tightening me until it burst when I saw you again 12 years later.

Unfortunately, due to the trauma, when we met again, you had already forgotten about me, yet I did not give up and hugged you until I got tired because deep down, I had clung to the feeling of loving you ... This love that burned, crushed and tortured me with longing made me have mixed feelings.

But for you, I killed and crushed those who crossed my path, I swore I would make Pavel pay for the hell they had put us in, not for anything from now on you were living normally thanks to my efforts.

And now here, feeling your curves on my hands, our lips colliding in desire and despair. I have longed for you so much, I struggled to find you... At what point did your kisses become my addiction? I don't know, because at this point I only wish our paths don't separate.

Your tongue dances with mine, our clashing hips echo in the hot air of the luxurious room. Lust runs through me, my sweat mingles with yours, I know well that our love is a luxury, I know it's wrong to have feelings when I'm still Pavel's puppet, but right now I just want to be Ryu Shi Oh— That little boy who became more than a man, a hungry beast seeking to devour everything and become strong just to find you, the one who loves you and only lives for you. My revenge comes from loving you, I would make them pay for the cruelty they would have put us through.

Our hips echo in the air of the lustful room, your pussy presses against my cock and your juices only make me want to fuck you even more. My hips twitch as you let out gasping moans, your cheeks red with arousal make me smile possessively, I love you with passion and although for years I have been swallowing this bitterness for the feelings that I still did not have clear, I can't take it anymore... You are like the drug that makes me stronger.

"Ryu.... Ahhhh~ I love you so much, you know that... so don't suffer for me anymore, please already– Let's stop with this silly revenge" You let out an agitated sigh trying to find the right words in between lust laden gasps. I know you want me to stop this, but I don't want to be a puppet anymore, I don't want to see you suffer.

I don't want you to be the leash that ties me to Pavel, I don't want to know that you are not just mine, that those bastards could kill you if they wanted to and I couldn't rebel.

Because I know we both hang on the pendulum between life and death constantly under Pavel's strings.

"I love too," I whisper between gasps, feeling your warmth enveloping my cock, your lips tasting like peaches, almost feeling like I'm eating a forbidden but longed-for fruit.

Our bodies move in perfect harmony, fueled by desire and a deeper connection that transcends mere lust.

And despite your pleas that sound more like moans, constantly begging me to stop my erratic movements— I can't help but revel in the pleasure coursing through my veins.

It's as if every caress, every moan, brings us closer to some kind of resolution: an end to the pain and torture that has plagued us both.... Sometimes I think maybe I'm just selfish and that these fantasies of love are only to avoid facing my fears, especially that question that was running through my mind.

You felt the same way about me? I can't help but get angry at the thought that other men have looked at you while locked in that cell where you were treated like a sack of meat.

However, even though I lose myself at this moment, a part of me is still aware of the danger we face under Pavel's watchful eye. But for now, in the midst of this whirlwind of ecstasy, I choose to ignore that dark cloud hovering over me. Instead, I focus solely on you and the boundless love that keeps me sane.

Scratching your back with my nails and you equally with mine, I roll my eyes as I lose myself in the pleasure coursing through my body. Your moans ignite something primal inside me, fueling my lust. Feeling your pussy clenching around me drives me deeper, losing myself completely in the moment. The pleasure intensifies, erasing any sense of time or reason. I thrust harder, wanting nothing more than to give you everything you desire right now.

Our bodies are drenched in sweat and we writhe like dancers in an erotic ballet telling the story of our eternal connection. You whisper sweet words in my ear, filling my heart with warmth despite the cold darkness around us.

Your words pierce through my armor and reach parts of me I thought lost forever.You whimper asking me to stop, but it's not enough, I'm addicted to your scent.

Your breasts are like dough between my hands, my lips collide against your rosy breasts and my tongue plays with those hard buttons because of the lust that emanates from your body. I don't know how much time passed, but we reached our climax, both clinging to our hands.

Like a beast I devoured everything in you— I licked, scratched, bit and fucked you to exhaustion as our bodies became a sticky, sweaty mess. In the end I only know that I love you, that I am possessive and will not let others have you, you are mine and you .... you were fine with that. Years of suffering were worth it or at least that's how it feels to me.

We fell into each other's arms and before we fainted, you whispered an "I love you" and I can only answer you by looking into your sleepy eyes, running my hands through your hair and kissing your forehead. I love you, so much that a scale would not be enough to weigh my love for you ...

Because baby, my eyes don't lie when they tell you that you're mine!

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solomons-poison · 1 year

Note

Obey Me request (if you're accepting rn)

Do you do Headcanons? Side characters comforting MC that had a cockroach fly on their face

If not then just Barbatos comforting MC with that same scenario?

If you don't like that scenario then maybe with something you're okay with?

Comforting S/O After a Cockroach Attack

A/N: Hi! I was accepting headcanon requests (closed upon posting this). This gave me the shivers, I cannot stand bugs touching me and especially not on my face, so I can only hope my loves would save me :( I went with side characters as I couldn't really come up with enough content or ideas for just one character for a headcanon ask, I'm sorry, but I hope you enjoy these sweet short headcanons

Featuring: GN reader || Diavolo x reader, Barbatos x reader, Simeon x reader, Solomon x reader, Mephisto x reader, Thirteen x reader, Raphael x reader

Warnings: mentions of bugs/cockroaches; relationship with suitor not specified, up for interpretation

══════════════════

Regular human world cockroaches are awful enough to deal with. But being in the Devildom, you often come across some truly monstrous equivalents of animals and bugs, some you've grown used to and even liked. But some of them were truly terrifying, and unfortunately, your worst nightmares came true when you had one of those monstrous Devildom cockroaches flying down at you. It took what felt like hours to escape the damned thing, and your shaking form immediately sought out the comfort of your closest confidante...

Diavolo

When you go to Diavolo and tell him what happened, he may laugh a little at first, but don't be angry. He's just always delighted to see all the different reactions you have. It's especially fascinating to him to see how unfazed you are when handling a multitude of demons, especially the likes of the Seven Avatars, but the likes of a bug scares you instead. But he's reminded of a certain butler who also has a certain, unexpected fear...

He'll offer to protect you from them in the future and comfort you for now by cuddling with you. He may even make some dumb jokes to try to distract you and help calm you down, or have you sit beside him while he's working. And if you'd like, he'll also share with you about something that he can't stand, as well (so long as you promise not to tell anyone else, including Barbatos).

Barbatos

When you come running to Barbatos, he's convinced there's a war going on with how worried and freaked out you seem. But once you get the chance to tell him what happened, he's thankfully understanding. He knows too well about dealing with attacks from.. unwanted creatures, and can only imagine how he'd freeze up if he dealt with a rat.

He takes you to his room and makes you some soothing tea or other hot drink to help calm you down. He might invite you to a little baking date to get your mind off of what happened, both by making yourself busy and getting the reward of a delicious treat at the end.

He'll also be sure to educate you on how to prevent and treat bug infestations. After all, he's very familiar with dealing with unwanted pests, so he wants to be sure you're prepared to deal with them in the future in case he's not around to protect you.

Simeon

Simeon, the sweetheart that he is, deeply sympathizes with your fear and is very very sweet about it. He'll provide you hugs, back pats, or even just lend an ear if you want to tell him about what happened. His empathetic self will even shiver after hearing about the bug's description, truly feeling for you and the ordeal you went through.

He may also offer to handle the bug for you, but please don't take him up on it 😬 He might get just as freaked out as you, and then both of you are screaming and running away, which only stresses Luke out. Instead, it's best to let him recruit someone else to handle the bug and perhaps settle down in his room while he reads you some poetry or maybe even TSL.

Solomon

Solomon may laugh a little, like Diavolo, when you tell him what happened, but he'll be quick to apologize if it makes you angry. He's lived a long time and been to so many places, he's so used to all manner of creatures and is completely unfazed by the things found in the Devildom. Once you've calmed down some, he'd be happy to teach you about other crazy creatures commonly found in the Devildom, hoping maybe some prior knowledge will help you at least a little bit in future encounters.

If you'd like, he'll happily teach you a spell to destroy the bug the next time one attacks you, or he may even offer to find and take care of the one that had come after you. Once that's taken care of, he'll be sure to take you on an outing to somewhere fun so you can forget about what happened. At worst, he may try to cheer you up with baking something for you, in which some distractions might be needed. But maybe you can give his cooking to the cockroach...?

Mephistopheles

Mephisto won't make it known to you, but just the mention of a cockroach is enough to get goosebumps on his skin. He sympathizes with you about dealing with such disgusting creatures, and immediately takes you out of there to somewhere perhaps with open air, particularly if its the gardens or a park, somewhere that has a more peaceful feeling to it.

He may be a little mean though and tease you about getting scared by a bug when you're surrounded by demons. But it's easy to see he's just doing that to distract you and make you feel at ease rather than actually insult you, if the gentle look in his eyes is anything to go by. He'll take on a big brother role that he's used to and be your protector for the day.

Thirteen

Thirteen is also loathe to admit it to you, but she hates those cockroaches as well. Anything that flies at her face is a big NO. But luckily, she has her trusty inventions to deal with those pests, all manner of fly swatters, just general melee weapon-looking tools, or traps.

If you ask her nicely or feed her ego a little, she'll help you bug hunt to get rid of the gross things. After all, she doesn't mind the idea of you owing her a favor for her heroic efforts. But really, she's a sucker for you and will hunt down anything that threatens you or your wellbeing.

Raphael

... What do you want him to do about it? I'm kidding. Raphael is a little underwhelming in regards to how comforting he is, but it's mostly because of his stony facial expressions. His eyes show that secret gentleness he has, and although he's not great about verbally comforting you, he'll provide a brief but sweet hug.

If you'd like him to, he's willing to hunt that cockroach down with his spears, although the idea sounds a little nasty to him. But if you don't want to go the murderous route, then he'll just provide you pleasant albeit quiet company until you've calmed down. He's not great at small talk, and he'll be very awkward about it, but he'll try to find things to distract you with and get your mind off them, like puzzles or telling you stories about working with Michael.

#diavolo x reader #barbatos x reader #solomon x reader #simeon x reader #mephistopheles x reader #thirteen x reader #raphael x reader #obey me x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me hcs #tw bug mention #tw bugs #the minx can write ✍️

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bruh-anator3000 · 10 months

Text

CAT-astrophic

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A/n: *pushes rock I live under over and peeks out of the black abyss* Hey, have you guys seen a Car Wash Miguel fic anywhere? I don't know what happened to it but it's no longer here. Might've escaped... anyways, watch this cat for me while I look? Thanks. And don't mind the hot homeless dude who talks to him, they're bonding. *returns into the depths of the void*

Summary: A hot dude won't stop talking to your cat, it's kind of freaking you out.

WC: 1.7k, edited by google docs...

Pairing: Miguel x GN!Reader

Warnings: crack fic, Spider-cat's real name is Sir Jeffords bc i said so, clueless reader, pro outdoor cat (i'm not actually, keep ur cats safe pls), future-ish?, accidentally snuck in some world building, in Lyla we trust 🙏, Miguel in tight clothing bc I also said so, and wait wtf are you doing with a dead rat miguel, AND WTF IS THIS WHITE STUFF DUDE?!

Also no Spanish bc I've done some research and those who do speak it have asked non-native speaker to avoid it, to prevent bad google translations and maintain respect!

Okay, enjoy~

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You were about to head in for the night when you were not tripped by your cat for his dinner. After a quick search around your apartment, you sighed upon realizing he was still outside. Shrugging on a coat, mismatched slippers, and grabbing a flashlight, you went out to look for him.

Plenty of people told you to keep your cat inside. That it was vital to their health to keep them safe indoors. There were plenty of articles stating the cons of letting a domesticated cat roam freely outside with no supervision. They were also written 80 years ago. The world has changed since then, drastically.

Sure, it would still be smart to keep Sir Jeffords inside. Less late night searches for him, no more worrying if that scratch on his right paw was from running too fast along pavement or something worse. But he came from the life of an alley cat, and no matter what you tried, he had to be out there for a few hours a day. Last time you tried to stop him, he went under your radar for three days. You had a panic attack, worried he didn't love you anymore, but he did eventually come back. Chipper and eager, and he made sure you left his cat door unlocked.

The streets were cleaner than 80 years ago. The people were kinder. The city more accommodating to everyone, even stray animals. Sir Jeffords was mirco chipped, and even if it didn't work for tracking half the time, the shelter folks could scan his neck and drop him back home.

There were no pounds or pest controls anymore, just volunteers who helped poor animals stay warm. And find whoever left them in the streets. It was a crime to leave them now, resulting in 6 months of detention if caught dumping your animal friend into the alleys.

Jeffords was a smart cat. He knew what he was doing. You trusted him. In the event of something bad happening, you made him swore he would come find you right away. Though he couldn't speak, his tail wrapping around your pinky seemed solid enough.

You called out his name, followed by a few 'pspspsps's to really seal the deal. Your flashlight shining in the darker corners of the streets he may be hiding in. Cats and their dark, unreachable corners, Sir Jeffords fell victim to any cozy spot he could barely tuck himself into.

It wasn't until a few blocks away, a little past the bank, when you heard a meow. Very similar to his, you quietly sped your pace, wanting to grab your kitty and go home. The closer you got, it seemed more like he was responding to someone else more than you.

"-and your service is always appreciated." You heard a deep voice whisper. Their voice a grumble echoing through the alley they hid in. "You're one of our best." Your brows pinching together, you turned the corner of the bank, flashlight illuminating your fluffy orange cat. Who was rubbing up against the shin of a random man.

He looked up at you, eyes darkened as he blocked your flashlight with his large hand. They almost seemed red as he stayed squatted, Sir Jeffords head butting his knee. His face pure sharp angles, with a scowl permanently in place. His black shirt a tight, compressing fit. Clinging to each muscle and vein in his arm, stopping halfway down his bicep. His calves just as impressive. His shorts doing nothing but making him look even hotter.

Wait, no. This was a random man, he wasn't hot.

You lowered the light and gave an awkward smile. Seemingly unimpressed, his hardened gaze turned back to your cat. "He's yours?" He asked, voice rumbling low in his chest. With a nod, he added, "He's... cute."

Okay, maybe he was a little hot.

"Right?" Your smile smoothed into something more natural. "He's the cutest cat to ever exist." You lowered yourself down onto your knees with a soft baby call. Sir Jeffords trotting into your lap happily, orange fur swaying with his steps.

Your hand ran through his silky fur. Tension easing from you as you held him close again. Though his three day disappearance had yet to happen again, you still worried. He was your precious baby, after all. The one you shared everything with, and he never once judged.

Your fingers caught on something sticky, stopping short of his lower back. Pulling your hand away, strings of white followed, sticking to your fingertips. The feeling moist and far too clingy for comfort. A disgusted shiver ran up your spine at the horrible sensory.

The man stood then, tossing a tissue at you as he did. His gaze stayed on your cat, never faltering. He pushed his dark hair away from his face, still scowling.

Glancing between your hand and the man that now towered over you, you almost gagged. This wasn't... his, right?

"It was the rat." Like he read your mind, the mysterious stranger held out his other hand. A dead rat laid in his palm.

"That... doesn't make me feel much better." You suppressed another full body shake, quickly wiping your hand off. This guy may be extremely attractive to look at but the longer you stayed there, the more uncomfortable you got. "How would a mouse... And what is this?" You felt yourself getting sick as you held the tissue out, the white stuff now sticking to the paper instead

"Webs. And, it's a rat." He stated with a straight face. More angry at your confusion than anything. "Chased him through some spider webs."

You let out a soft 'oh.' But that didn't explain why he was holding onto the dead rat.

And he let it stay that way. Instead of reading your mind like he had been this entire time, he just... walked off. With a dead animal in his grasp. Without a word.

Your confused gaze turned to your cat, knees beginning to ache from the pressure of concrete beneath. Sir Jeffords purred into your stomach loudly.

"You're not allowed to hang out with that guy, ever again."

...

"Christ!" Miguel tossed the rat at the wall, hearing him curse. The small animal glitched into a grown adult, body morphing sickly. "That..." The villain panted, rubbing at his neck. Bruises from how tightly he was held already forming there. "... was not what I was expecting."

Miguel squatted back down, balancing on his toes as the hologram of regular clothes shifted back into his suit. "You chose to become a rat, in a world whose Spider-Man is a cat." He slammed down a disk, red netting encasing the fool. "That was your own fault."

"It was the only way I could get into the bank!" The villain squeaked. Miguel tuned out almost immediately, eyes turning to his watch. Setting the portal to his universe, and making sure he wasn't needed elsewhere. He entertained the villain in a tacky grey suit with distant hums and 'oh, yeah, uh-huh's. It was best to just let them get it out of their system then try to shut them up.

"And I would've gotten away with it, too! If it weren't for you and your cat!" The shape shifter writhed in the nets.

"Sound like a damn Scooby-Doo villain." Miguel stood up with a huff. He would never admit it, but Hobie used the term so often, he had to look up what he was referencing. Only to end up watching the first few seasons. He had to stop around the third season, a sick sense of deja vu hitting him with a bat. The cartoons reminded him too much of the daughter he never really had.

With a sigh, "Lyla," He called.

The AI appeared before him, wearing a shit eating smirk. He opened his mouth to command something else when she beat him to it. "You should've asked for their number."

"What?" Miguel's head snapped up, eyes wide.

"They were cute, should've asked them on a date." She glitched to his side with a teasing laugh.

"Lyla, I... no." He grumbled, flicking at his watch.

"Oh, you know?" Miguel tried to smack her away, only for her to reappear on his left shoulder. "You should go back, then."

Miguel glared at her, ignoring how the tips of his ears began to burn. "I can't, its-"

"Not a canon event." They said at the same time. Lyla rolling her eyes behind her heart-shaped glasses, Miguel focusing on creating a portal. "You're such a loser, you know that?" She huffed and puffed, spawning with her back turned to him.

He tried to reach out with a heavy breath, but she moved further away. This time sitting with her arms crossed and pouting.

"They were cute." The villain nodded from his fetal position on the ground. Earning a glare from the two. Shrinking further into himself, the shape-shifter apologized.

Miguel thrust his forearms forward, his mantis blades catching on the fabric of time. Ripping them apart with a grunt. Orange and purple twisted in front of him, and he grabbed a hold of the red netting the anomaly was in.

"Meet me back at HQ," He spoke to his AI with a nod. Foot already in the portal, he turned to cast a menacing glance at Lyla. "And do not try anything."

She held up her hands in defense, watching the portal close behind him. It wasn't like she even had to do anything - not anymore. She already slipped his multiversal number into the collar of Spider-Cat. All that needed to happen was you either found it, or it fell out. Lyla just had to wait to see which option would be canon.

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