#Falling to my knees biting and growling wailing and barking up a tree

[hunter-slime-660]

I wanted to wait before its finished to post it but OUGHHH I CANT HELP MYSELF

[thesightstoshowyou]

Gift Exchange

Asa Emory x AFAB Reader (NSFW)

A sappy follow-up to this

Summary: There’s something special about Christmas morning.

Warnings: A little dash of Jesse, choking, biting, blood, creampie. Soft!Asa???? Sorry, I’m a bit late with this, but my motivation took a vacation over the holidays.

 ~~

             It is the absence of familiar heat at your back that wakes you. Eyes fluttering open, you’re met with the smooth expanse of Jesse’s bare chest. As usual, he has both arms wrapped around you, crushing you to him as though you’re a body pillow.  

            Craning your neck, you find the other side of the bed empty. This isn’t unusual; Asa never sleeps for more than a few hours at a time, and he’s an extremely early riser. Though, you had hoped he would have stayed in bed just a little longer today. It isn’t everyday both he and Jesse have the same day off.

            Carefully, you untangle yourself from Jesse’s bear hug. He is undisturbed by your movement, as you knew he would be. He’s the heaviest sleeper you’ve ever met.

            Quietly, you pad out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind you. You follow the rich scent of coffee to the kitchen. Peering past the island, you spot Asa sprawled out on the sofa, morning paper spread out on his bent knees. You smile when you notice he plugged in the Christmas tree he teases you relentlessly about every year.

            But, dammit, it’s not Christmas without a tree.

            He glances up from the paper when he hears the cupboard open, mugs clinking together when you retrieve one for yourself. Folding the paper, he sets it on the coffee table, takes a sip from his own mug, then clears his throat.

            “Come here, Cricket,” he murmurs quietly as though he doesn’t wish to disturb the early morning hush. You set your mug on the counter and weave around the island to join him in the living room. Through enormous, full length windows, you watch snowflakes drift lazily from a gray sky, Christmas lights twinkling at various points from the city spread below.

            Asa pats his lap and, surprised, you eagerly climb on, straddling his waist as he lays back. From under the cushion, he produces a small gift wrapped neatly with a gold bow. Quizzically, you glance from him to the gift, tentatively accepting it when he pushes it into your hands.

           “Open it,” he dares, playful smirk curling at the corners of his lips.  

           “It’s not gonna cut my fingers off, is it?” you tease, only half joking. Asa chuckles quietly.

           “Not this time.” With one final, questioning glance, the paper crinkles under your fingers when you lift the tape along the side. Peeling back the wrapping, you find a black, velvet box. Excitedly, you lift the lid.

            “Oh my goodness,” you breathe, fingers brushing over the delicate golden chain holding an antique locket, a large, curly “C” engraved on the front. Pushing the clasp, the locket clicks open. Inside is empty, presumable waiting for you to fill it with whatever you wish.

            “’C’ for—

            “Cricket, yes,” Asa interrupts, reaching out to take the necklace from you. You spin around so he can secure the chain around your neck before turning back and stroking the pendant with your fingers. You smile, feeling your cheeks heat up under his appraising stare.

            “Thank you, Sir. I, uh, didn’t get anything for you, though,” you say with a giggle. Asa’s warm palms slide up your bare inner thighs, fingers tracing the thick scars there, the most distinct of the many permanent reminders of him he’s scrawled across your skin with his knife.

            “I’ve got everything I need,” he murmurs, the low, rough hum of his voice raising goosebumps across your flesh. Asa fingers move to your hip, two of them tapping your sleep shorts. Knowing what he wants, you slide off his lap, slip out of the garment, straddle his hips once more.

            Calloused palms grip your hips, urge them to roll. You feel him twitch to life between your legs, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip when sparks of pleasure arc in your core at the contact. His sleep pants are tugged off his hips as you’re pulled forward, hard flesh deliciously parting tight, slick heat until he’s fully seated within you.

            He sits up further, gathers your arms behind your back with one, strong hand, the other tangling in your hair as you buck your hips. He whispers instructions in your ear, “Faster, slower, harder,” and you do as your told, a whiny moan slipping past your clenched teeth.

            Asa chuckles quietly, teases “Better be quiet, Cricket, unless you want Jesse to hear.” It’s rare you get Asa all to yourself; Jesse’s hands are always on you somewhere whenever he’s around. This intimate, hushed moment reminds you of how it used to be when it was just the two of you, before Jesse came into your lives. In a way, you miss it, miss the routine.

            You shake your head, renewing your efforts to keep your desperate sounds in your mouth as Asa starts thrusting up into you, meeting the roll of your hips with a sharp snap until you’re trembling. Teeth find your neck, threateningly scrape your racing pulse, the hot ghosting of breath across your skin making you clench your eyes shut and groan quietly in your throat.

             “I already gave you a gift. You think you need another?” Asa rumbles in your ear. You can hear the smile in his voice. Your hands twitch, nails pushing grooves into your palms in an effort to remain silent, “Speak, Cricket.”

            “P-Please, Sir, please, Sir-Sir, p-p-please—

            Asa croons in mock sympathy and grips your hips, forcing you to grind down onto his lap so hard you’re seeing stars. Liquid heat spreads through your gut and you accidentally let fly a high-pitched wail, one which he instantly silences with a hand around your throat. He growls in warning against your cheek and you nod, mouthing the words, ‘Sorry, Sir.’

             “Think you can cum without alerting the entire building?” Urgently, you nod, pleadingly meeting his dark, heated gaze. Your eyes trace the tenseness of his jaw, the only indication he gives that he’s enjoying himself. He hums like he’s thinking, deciding whether or not you should be allowed to cum. Your legs shake, the precipice inching closer with every feverish buck of your hips.

             “Give it to me, Cricket, cum for me,” he commands in your ear. Obeying is simple, one, final, sharp thrust shoving you over the edge into bliss. Your mouth falls open, a tremulous exhale spilling past your lips as your slippery muscles contract in waves of pleasure. You’re blessed—gifted—with a strangled groan in your ear as Asa’s fingers dig into your throat, his cock twitching as he internally marks you once more. It’s another gift, one for which you thank him profusely.

            “Fuck,” he whispers, lips brushing your jaw before finding yours in a rough kiss, one that ends with you whimpering into his mouth when coppery warmth spills onto your tongue. Satisfied, Asa leans back against the cushions again, pulling you with him until your nose is nestled in the crook of his neck.

            “Think Jesse got you anything?” he jokes, scarred fingers stroking the exposed skin of your lower back. You snort.

            “He’ll probably just put a bow on his dick again like last year.” Asa laughs at that, one of his rare, rasping barks that never fails to bring a bright smile to your own face.

            The Collector is feeling generous today, it seems.  

[captainrexisboo]

In A Single Night

Here it is, my lads and ladies and lovers. Only six hours after posting the promo lmao. Sitting at 1685 words, this is the first chapter to my WereRex AU (accidentally prompted by this ask), as well as my first installation of my Monster!Clones series (because apparently I have no self control).

This specific AU takes place during some vague historical time period, outside the Star Wars universe. More supernatural and magic than sci-fi. It is a romance! But, I don’t think it’ll be explicit. There will be very loose reminiscing of lovemaking, but no detail will be shared (yet- I mean c’mon, it’s me).

In this chapter, there will be warnings such as: body horror (not gore tho), the act of pinning, An Anxiety Attack, and An Actual Attack (again, no gore), and ANGST

Tag list will be in the replies, let me know if you would like to be added! Thank you all for your support, and as always any comments are welcome!!! Happy reading!!!

Edit: link to pt2

“Rex!”

Your whispered shout cut sharply through the still night air, not daring to be any louder. You’re not sure what you were afraid of, there was nothing in the woods to fear- except for the reason you were there to begin with. The pressure of the task at hand made your head swim, and the anxiety from terror made your hands shake, thinking of what you witnessed, your grandmother’s age-old guidance, and Cody’s blessing, it all came crashing down onto you in frantic waves.

You forced down a breath, the air scratching down your dried throat. Eyes frantic, you glanced in every direction, praying you found him before he found you. Your grip tightened on the rim of the helmet- of his helmet- and you stared into the blue jaig eyes that graced the front of the dome. It was the only bit of armor you brought with you, the most familiar to use, the only other clothes being his nightwear. The entire armored set and flowing blue mantle that he wore about the castle would’ve been too much to carry, too heavy. You needed to be able to move quickly, which was already proving difficult in the dense underbrush of the overgrown forest that he had escaped into, the leaves and low branches making your trek much noisier than you would have preferred. Dried twigs snapped under your boots, and every rustle from a night critter or chirps from various insects made you spin around with shoulders raised, terrified but ready to commit to the mission at hand- bring Captain Rex home.

~

You couldn’t believe it when only hours ago you witnessed the esteemed Captain fall into a frantic heap into the grass, a terrible aching cry ripping from his throat at the edge of town, the giant archway of the tall brick barrier that surrounded the village framing his crumpled body. He had been waiting for you, he had asked to meet under the light of the moon tonight while he was on break from patrol, just outside the town gates. You were about to run to the aid of your lover when something cold ran down your spine. An instinct to stop, stay out of sight- you’re unsure if it was the force of the raw wail or the way he seemed to be moving under his jacket...as if the muscles formed underneath his skin were realigning, morphing, writhing...growing. 

You stood back, frozen, breathless. You couldn’t tear your widening eyes away. Especially when you saw the thick fabric of his pristine white coat begin to tear and rip, partially from the swelling of his form, but also shredding from the clawing of his shaking hands, as if the material were burning him and he needed it off as soon as possible. Underneath, instead of the tanned expanse of scarred skin you thought you knew so well, was a coating of shining blond hair, almost a soft golden in the glinting moonlight. His screaming had subsided, but you could still hear his rough, ragged, deep breathing, even from how far away you were. His grunting and groaning were painful, you could tell his throat was already scarring from the harmful strain of voice, and yet he still found it in himself to howl into the night sky, throwing his head back in a gruesome, bitter ballad to the full moon above you. As the furious sound waned from him, you could see his form slacken in relief. His breathing was heavy, laced with an outraged growling. He moved from being lurched over on his knees to gaining onto his haunches. Where you thought he would be shaky, you noticed him channeling whatever was left of himself into standing up with his signature battle-ready grace. 

He stood tall, like usual...but with an extra two feet added to his height. The blond coating of, not hair, but thick, coarse fur, extended over his limbs, bristling in the cool of the night. His form not only stood taller, but also gave him a wider stance, even with hunched shoulders he was hulking, skin nearly ripping at the sudden growth. He rolled his neck and shoulders back, the sudden crack of settling bones finally bringing your lungs back to life as you took a gasping breath, a single stumbling step backwards- you were too loud. He whipped his head around to face you with a wild snarl, bounding to you, covering nearly two hundred meters in a matter of seconds. You shrieked, falling back onto the uneven cobblestone as he was suddenly on top of you, caging you beneath him in his new massive form, your heart hammering as whimpers stuttered past your quivering lips, his hot breath washing over your face, claws cracking into the hard rock next to your cheeks, threatening to cut at your hair.

His plush, bow-shaped lips curled over to showcase protruding fangs, mere inches away from your face as you flattened yourself against the cold hard ground, practically trying to will yourself beneath the surface before the unthinkable could happen. His face kept most of his shape, nose a little longer, a little pointed upwards, and jaw widened as if to take mauling bites out of anything- no, out of anyone. His normally cleanly shaven face was covered in the same fur as the rest of him, except for where his brows had been. The fur there was almost forming something like a dark mask, making a T-shape over his eyes and nose. All of this you could take in stride as he sniffed over you, you could stand any of this transformation as he kept you trapped below him, but it was his eyes that had you quaking. 

His kind, honeyed stare, the irises that held such adoration and desire for you as you whispered promises of love and devotion to each other behind dark corners and between soft bed sheets- that was gone. No trace of your dearest paramour to be found. Instead it was a fiery golden gaze, a purely carnal type of hunger, and for what you couldn’t be sure. His pupils had shrunk into pinpoints, surveying you like a piece of meat, like a meal. He opened his mouth with a throaty growl, baring his teeth to you even more, craning down to your neck with thick saliva dripping from his maw. As his teeth skimmed over your flesh, just before they could pierce through, is when you finally found your voice, previously dammed from terror, choking out a broken, “Rex, please…”

He paused at his name. Holding over you, as still as the hanging moon, upright ear twitching in response to your begging. Your breath shakes in anticipation, tremors running through your otherwise petrified body. He rears his head back harshly, suddenly, letting out a grim bark, and you screw your eyes shut tight to brace for the searing pain of your ripping flesh...that never comes. After a thick moment of watching the synapses of nerves spark behind your eyelids, you blink them open, slowly shifting up onto trembling elbows just in time to see him disappear into the shadows of the trees.

You’re terrified.

You want to cry.

You don’t understand what’s happening, so you stay lying on the ground, curling in on yourself as you silently sob out his name. You roll to your side, letting fat tears stream down your face, throwing your hand over your mouth as you push out heaving breaths, seeing the sharply pierced stone next to your head, splintering cracks coming from each hole at the force with which they were made. You laid there for what felt like hours, alone, shaking, small under the laughing moon. Emotion wracked through you, storming through your mind and body until you were left rasping for precious oxygen, completely emptied of your tears, the streaks having marked their pathway down your cheeks and neck to under the collar of your shirt.

Something whispers at the back of your mind as you’re coming down from your rush, a suddenly clear vision of your childhood, your grandmother telling you stories of shapeshifting beasts. Simultaneously man and monster, both in body and soul. You had asked her before she tucked you into bed once, while you were throwing on the covers and trying to blink away fatigue to finish the tall tale, “Is there any way to change them back? Aren’t they still human under their fur?”

She looked wistful then, staring out the window of your bedside, looking up into the moon. A sensitive shine came across her gaze, delicately reflecting the candlelight as she spoke so quietly you had to strain to hear her, even in the hush of your bedroom.

“If there’s someone who loves the beast enough, despite knowing their cursed form, underneath the light of the stars they can present the fanged horror with clothes-”

“Clothes? Grandmere, that doesn’t sound very-”

“Very what? Extravagant? Magical?” she chuckled, a little broken, wiping away sitting tears on her lashes, “Child, love is the most magical thing in the world. If it’s love in the purest form, telling the beast to come home, it will leave it’s brutish whims behind and dutifully follow it’s love back to the safety of a warm bed.”

She touched the garish scar you knew hid under her blouse, drawing in a sharp, shaking breath as her fingers traced the marred pink flesh of her shoulder, “If it’s not true… they’ll leave you. They’ll lose their last bit of humanity in that moment. Make you wish you had spared the energy you’d used to find them to begin with.”

You crash back into reality, her warning sitting heavy in your mind. You finally sat up, still in the middle of the empty road, surrounded by the dark windows of closed shops showing you your ragged reflection. You dusted off, getting onto wobbling legs before stalking off towards the castle. More specifically, the soldiers’ dormitory.

If the memory held any truth, then you didn’t have much time. You had to find his brother.

[nelllraiser]

swiper no swiping | nell & stinky fox (julie ?)

LOCATION: nell’s greenhouse. PARTIES: @purelikeviolence and @nelllraiser. SUMMARY: nell finds a completely normal fox lurking around her greenhouse, and decides to make a new friend. julie begins her infiltration of the vural home.

Julie recalled seeing the greenhouse after she left Nell’s place a couple days ago. She hadn’t realized just how close this was to her tree in the forest. They were practically neighbors. Because of that she didn’t waste any time heading to Nell’s greenhouse and seeing what she could find for food. Her fox form ran through the forest, cloaked by the darkness of the night and led by her nose. Whether it be some kind of fruit or whatever, Julie wanted it. She circled around it, trying to find a spot to enter and when she couldn’t she just started digging. It didn’t take long for her to make a hole big enough for her to squeeze through. She felt herself pretty smart and let her nose lead her to what smelled like strawberries? She headed for it and right as she was about to bite one off, she felt something wrap around her back paw and she was soon enough lifted up by her hind legs. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. What the fuck? She chittered softly as she tried to process what had happened, trying to figure out what to do until she heard someone coming.

If there was one thing that was certainly a murder button for Nell, it was her plants, and Taki, of course. But it wasn’t Taki who was in danger as a little magical alarm registered in her head, telling her that her greenhouse had been breached. The second thing the spell on the property told her was that it wasn’t someone who had been here before. A thief. Immediately she was rising from bed, grumbling as she grabbed a knife from her bedside and made a beeline for her precious plants. As soon as she opened the door, she was guns-blazing, calling out. “Who the fuck thinks they can just waltz into my greenhouse, and take my plants?” It didn’t take long to find the culprit, and immediately, Nell’s expression shifted from promising a painful death, to surprise, to...finding a fox that was hanging by a rope in her greenhouse rather...cute. “Oh-” Her lips pursed a little, though it wasn’t nearly as fierce an expression as before. “You know...it’s rude to steal.” 

Julie struggled against the rope, feeling a slight fear but then heard Nell’s voice and looked over at her. Nell didn’t seem the type to hurt innocent animals and Julie was a completely innocent animal. Still, she wasn’t going to trust her. As soon as she neared Julie let out a wail, not wanting her to come closer, not sure what she was going to do. She squirmed once more, wanting to get back on the ground, on her feet. She kept screaming, louder this time even trying to snap at Nell.

Nell’s face twisted into concern as she watched the poor thing struggle. “Hey, hey, it’s alright,” she said in a soft voice that was generally reserved for animals or especially upset friends. “You’re fine, no worries.” She grimaced for a moment as the fox let out an unholy sound, a sound she hadn’t even thought foxes capable of making. And then came the biting. But nevertheless, she reached forwards to try her best to get at the rope, and free the poor creature. “You gotta hold still, bud. Otherwise it’s gonna be hard to get you down.” She had a feeling she was going to end up with a few scratches and bites by the end of this. 

The voice was soft, unexpected. She couldn’t recall a voice like that ever being spoken to her. Julie grew silent, only growling softly as she neared. Her captured leg twitched as she tried to fight off the rope. She really hated not having hands to untie herself. She watched as Nell came closer to untie her, still ready to snap if she came too close. She gave a warning growl and waited to be released. Although she knew she was gonna hate falling down. She looked down at the ground. 

At least the fox stopped screaming bloody murder. A growl seemed a bit more easier to handle, even if it didn’t necessarily mean Nell wouldn’t get attacked in this process. “Alright, see? It’s fine. Everything’s good,” she said as she ever so slowly undid the knot that was around the fox’s leg. A sort of...musky smell reached her nose, and it scrunched a bit as she began to tease the fox. “You know- you’re a little stinky.” It didn’t matter anyway. The fox wouldn’t know what she was saying, and she was still speaking in a nice, calm voice. Once the loop was off the fox’s leg, Nell tried her best to lower the fox to the ground, not wanting to just let the poor thing splat. 

STINKY??? Julie squirmed, kicking herself off of Nell and landing on the ground with a thud. Kicking her newly freed leg, it felt a little off after being hung by it for a while. She turned to look where to go but there was no place she could sneak by that didn’t involve crossing Nell’s path. And who’s to say she didn’t have other traps she might get caught in? She gave a bark, wanting Nell to back away. Bitch called her stinky! She’s lucky she didn’t go piss all over her plants. Which she just might if she gets out of here. Alive. Julie preferred not to resort to kitsune abilities as a fox. It was just easier and safer to pretend to be a normal unassuming fox. 

“Hey!” The fox had managed to wriggle free, and Nell was left to try and not let the fox escape. Obviously, she knew she’d have to let the poor creature go, but she wanted to make sure it hadn’t been hurt, first. Crouching down, she plucked on of the nearby strawberries from her garden, holding it out at arm’s length in the direction of the fox. “Come on, don’t be like that. Are you hungry? I have a nice, juicy strawberry for you. And maybe something else if you’re nice.” She tried to look over the fox, but she wasn’t sure what weight foxes were meant to be, and whether this one was underfed or not. 

Julie let out a small yowl as Nell extended her arm for the strawberry. She sniffed at it, but kept her distance. She didn’t need to be that close to smell it. Was she going to grab her if she got close? Hm, Julie was interested in this “something else”. Still, she backed away and screamed louder, not wanting to eat it from her hands. The fuck was she? Some domesticated bitch? No, she’d eat it from the ground like any respectable wild animal. She screamed again at Nell, wanting her to get the point as she backed up. Give it to me.

Nell wrapped an arm around her folded legs, chin on the top of her knees as she considered the fox. They seemed to want the strawberry, but also looked a little tentative as most wild animals would likely be in the situation. “It’s alright,” she repeated once again before slowly placing the berry on the ground a couple feet in front of her. Maybe the fox would be more willing to take food if it wasn’t from her hand. “Go ahead. It’s for you. I guess you can have it even if you were trying to steal,” she teased a little, as if the fox could understand her. “You probably need it more, anyway.”

Once she left it on the ground, Julie felt it was okay to get closer to grab it. She wasn’t scared but… people would sell her skin for a pretty penny and she’d like to keep it on her. It was still cold after all. The strawberry was quickly gone once Julie got it in her mouth and she didn’t bother being neat about it too. Julie was a messy eater as a fox. In the end it was just the two of them left and Julie just stared, waiting to see what Nell would do next. Nell seemed genuine in her kindness and Julie didn’t know what to make of that. Right now she wanted to get out of here though and figure the rest later.

Nell smiled a bit as the fox finally accepted the gift, happy to see the cute little animal eating. Honestly, the messiness only made it more cute, and her grin widened as she watched. Once the berry was gone, she straightened slowly, not wanting to cause the fox more stress. “You know- if we wait here- I’ll bring you something even better than a berry. Alright?” She wasn’t actually expecting the fox to still be here when she returned, but she could at least leave out the food in hope the fox might return for more. “I’ll be right back,” she said before exiting the greenhouse, intent on raiding the fridge for some leftover strips of steak to bring back to her new, Stinky friend.

[avanalae]

Darkfic Saga Installment 9

The 9th installment of my old Darkfic Saga! It’s only been, like, five years. :| I hope you’ll all forgive me. 

And to those who aren’t familiar with this series, please be wary as this is pretty much my series where I abuse the heck out of the characters that I love. Mostly Tim. Most all of them are pretty darn dark. 

You can find the rest of the series on AO3. I started it on Dreamwidth and Livejournal aaaages ago. I uploaded everything to AO3 in one story right HERE, but the previous installment is on tumblr right HERE.

Enjoy!

__________

Title: The End of my Lover Fandom: DCU Pairing: Jason/? (written with Tim in mind but is open) Rating: T Warnings: Insanity, Implied Death or Major Injury, Blood Prompt: Madness (Darkfic 056)

Jason doesn’t remember much from his brief episodes of insanity. It’s a leftover from the pit, of course, these episodes. They’ve been getting shorter with longer periods of time between them, but they terrify him.

He has every right to be terrified.

During one of his episodes, he’d… Jason blinks back the tears. He can’t even think it. All that he can see behind his eyelids is that scene he woke up to.

Blood, blood everywhere, staining their bed and covering his lover’s body. His eyes were closed, and Jason’s heart felt like it had stopped in his chest as he stared.

He reached out to touch him and flinched back when he saw it.

Covered in blood.

Hoarsely he muttered his lover’s name.

There was no response.

The madness returned.

__

Title: Pretty Please Fandom: DCU Pairing: Slade/Tim Rating: Explicit Warnings: Non-Con/Rape Prompt: Please (Darkfic 057) 

“P-Pl…” he gasps, cutting himself off from finishing the word.

The pace slows, still hard enough to jerk his body with every thrust, but it drags and he whines. “No…!”

A deep chuckle rattles him and he tries to thrash but is held down easily. “Down, little bird. Just say it.”

Tim shakes his head frantically and tries to free himself, only making the man laugh again. He thrusts hard making him choke and nearly bite his tongue.

“Careful there, little bird,” he traps both hands in one of his massive ones. The other gleefully explores the small body beneath him. “Now, just say the word and we can get this over with. But, by all means,” he thrusts again and draws out a little whine before leaning over him and mutters against bitten lips, “take your time.”

Tim surges up and attempts to bite those lips but he backs off with a bark of laughter. Tim grunts at the movement and groans, “Slade, no…!”

“Mm. Slade, yes.” He twists one of Tim’s nipples harshly and Tim wails. “Go ahead, little bird. Just say please.”

A fresh bout of tears spill from Tim’s eyes and Slade wipes them away in a gesture of mock kindness. “Just say the word and I’ll end this,” his free hand brushes ever so lightly against Tim’s groin and Tim flinches with a whine.

“N-No!”

Slade smirks, “Then be ready for a long night.”

__

 Title: Come Play with Me Fandom: DCU Pairing: Jason/Tim Rating: T Warnings: Implied Drugging, Dark Implications Prompt: Mask (Darkfic 058) 

The slim body sidles up to him, fitting ever-so-nicely against him. Chest to chest slender arms come up to wrap around his neck and he leans in, noses brushing.

“Jay,” Tim drawls, “What are you doing here?” One hand caresses his cheek, thumb skimming along the edge of his mask.

Jason growls, “You’re drugged, birdie. I’m taking you home.”

“Oh, truly? Mm,” Tim pulls him down closer by his neck and nuzzles him, “What will you do to me there?”

Jason tries to push him away but Tim rolls with the movements. There must be something wrong with him, too, because he can’t bring himself to be rough with the man. “Red Robin, you need to stop.”

Tim sighs and rubs against him, “Will you make me?”

“Red-” Jason groans and finally manages to push him away, though likely only because Tim let him. “Come on. We need to get whatever is drugging you tested and get an antidote ready.”

“Mm,” Tim sighs and stretches, “Won’t you play with me? Please?”

“No, Red, I don’t even know what you were drugged with.” Jason huffs and then grunts as Tim moves and knocks him out with a swift jab.

Tim smiles at the passed-out form of the bigger man, “You should have just said yes, Jaybird.”

__

 Title: Burn, Baby, Burn Fandom: DCU Pairing: Ra’sTim Rating: T Warnings: Death, Fire, Burning cities, Destruction Prompt: Destruction (Darkfic 059) 

Ra’s brushes a few kisses along Tim’s temple, arms wrapped around the man sitting between his legs. Tim hums contentedly and continues to run his thumbs across Ra’s’ knuckles.

His kisses trail down to his neck and Tim sighs, tilting his head just so to invite the ministrations.

Ra’s takes the opportunity and continues to explore his lover with his lips, inhibited only by the clothes he wears. The neck of his shirt is wide, however, so he has plenty of skin to adore. And adore he does.

Tim turns his head in a plea for a kiss and receives one, a lingering thing that makes him sigh. Ra’s smiles into it and Tim licks those tempting lips.

“Come now, Timothy, I thought you would desire to view the scenery.”

Tim grumbles but does look out at the skyline.

The sky is red and black, filled with smoke and the reflections of flames. Flickers of flame are scattered around, bright red and orange, giving off a glow.

The city is burning.

The sounds of screams are distant, but audible and Tim closes his eyes. He can’t feel the heat of the flames from this distance, but he likes to imagine he can.

Eventually Tim huffs, “I do very much enjoy the sights, but I can imagine a better way to spend our time.” He rolls his hips back into Ra’s’ groin and leans back fully, dropping most of his weight onto the older man.

Ra’s chuckles and his hands slip down to spread Tim’s thighs atop his own. One hand squeezes his inner thigh and the other grabs one of Tim’s pecs, caressing firmly. Tim groans, pleased, and drags his nails along his lover’s arms.

Sirens wail in the distance and Ra’s nips at Tim’s neck.

People scream and Tim moans.

Chaos reigns and their kings kiss with a ferocity that is second nature to them.

__

 Title: Venom Fandom: DCU Pairing: None Rating: PG-13 Warnings: Implied murder Prompt: Poisonous (Darkfic 060)

Tim knows what’s wrong with him. He’s never not known. And he doesn’t consider it to be something wrong with him, either. It’s just a part of him.

He’s venomous. It’s easily controlled now, but he can still slip.

It’s always an accident, he would swear if anyone knew it was him.

Mother was both venomous and poisonous, but he is glad he isn’t, as it would make getting all those injuries a terrible inconvenience. Not only that but he’d be outed rather quickly as something abnormal.

Mother taught him all the ways to use his venom and he collected it on a regular basis to run tests on and for… other reasons. He always keeps a vial on him with a small injector.

Just in case.

Tim stares down at the unconscious criminal before him. Not one of the supervillains, for sure, but he apparently aspires to be one. Now then, whether or not to nip the problem in the bud.

He draws out the vial and swirls it.

Whether or not to waste a bit of himself on such trash.

These are the tough decisions he must make.

__

Title: By the Light of the Moon Fandom: DCU Pairing: Jason/Tim Rating: M Warnings: Werewolves, beastiality, rape Prompt: Feral (Darkfic 061) 

“J-Jay, Jaybird, hey,” Tim is on his knees in the best submissive position he can manage, “Hey, it’s me, Tim. Jason it’s Tim.”

The beast before him growls right in his face, long muzzle scrunched up to bare wicked-looking teeth. But praises be, he snuffs and sniffs and seems to recognize Tim on some level. His nose tucks into Tim’s armpit and then his hips, rubbing his groin which startles Tim.

The jerky motion brings a growl from Jason, this werewolf before him, and he stills.

But the next thing he knows he’s being pushed onto his back and large paw-like hands are holding his wrists down. “Jay- What are yo- eep!”

Jason tears off Tim’s pants in one swift motion with his jaws, ripping the fabric beyond all hope.

“Jason-!” He licks a broad stripe along Tim’s groin and stomach, making Tim yelp. “Oh no oh no, Jay, please-”

But the pleas fall on deaf ears as Jason takes position to mount him. Tim’s panic is blatant, but his struggles mean nothing against a 400-pound beast.

His scream echoes among the trees as Jason takes him.

__

Title: In the Night Fandom: DCU Pairing: Bruce/Tim Rating: M Warnings: Underage, Masturbation, Rutting Prompt: Shadow (Darkfic 062)

Bruce is always there, even if not physically. He’s always watching and always present, just like a shadow. He stalks and prowls and sees everything.

Tim knows this, but he can’t help it. He’s a healthy young teenager with an active sex drive.

So when he masturbates, he makes sure the cameras have the best view, no matter what he’s doing. Whether he’s pulling himself off to a release or fingering himself or playing with one of the many toys he’s gotten, he angles himself just right.

And it all comes to a head one night after patrol. He’s terribly horny and he’s rushing through clean-up so he can run up to his room and have a quick release when he’s stopped by Bruce. He draws him into conversation about their patrol all the while eyeing him, so Tim has no doubts that he’s doing this on purpose.

Feeling bold, Tim steps into Bruce’s space. He backs up until he’s sitting in the chair at the computer and Tim climbs onto his lap. Bruce’s stare is passive, but his eyes are burning so Tim grinds against his stomach. His moan is loud and echoes in the cave and suddenly he’s shy, covering his mouth with one hand.

But Bruce’s large hands grab his hips and pull him into thrusts. Tim gasps and starts following the rhythm, moaning louder and louder as his hands come away from his mouth to grab at Bruce’s shoulders.

He comes hard, his thrusts stuttering against Bruce’s toned stomach and he whines.

Tim eventually manages to open his eyes and he sees Bruce’s pants fighting against his own erection and-

He swallows. Bruce must be huge.

But something lights in his stomach, even after his orgasm, and he looks up to see Bruce staring him down.

Maybe just this once…

[tarralin]

3. Why Not?

This is the continuation of Diabolicus. You can find my other works on the Master List linked in my blog's description.

Thank you @ikemenfics for beta reading!

Enjoying my work? Buy me a coffe at http://ko-fi.com/tarralin

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

~*~

...

The indulgence of diversion was simply at an end.

...

At least, that was what Kennyo tried to tell himself each night he stood at the forest’s edge until the last candle had been snuffed out. He hadn’t entered her dreams in three nights. It was for the best. His place was in Hell where he needed to return and await his next summoning… and still he found himself watching over her daily actions.

Still he found himself peering through her dreamsphere each night, giving into curiosity.

This night, she sauntered along a stone balcony he knew only existed on castles of old lands and nowhere near these colonies of a young world. The golden gown that clothed her was the fashion of an ended age with the square neckline of a constraining bodice and full skirt swaying across the polished marble floor. A looping filigree traced the long, draping sleeves until the crimson trimming ended its pathway. Her silver locks were kept in their place by pearl encrusted combs pinned to the base of her head and then the luminous curls were allowed to dance freely in the moonlight.

Just as before, her gaze snapped to his without warning as a smile bloomed. “Now Puzzle Maker, I remember giving you permission to enter without invitation.”

“That you did,” Kennyo grinned as he joined her at the balcony. “As unnecessary as it was.”

Her smile faltered slightly at that. “Don't most immortals need permission to enter a realm or residence?”

“They do but, in the case of the Dreamscape—" Kennyo raised his left hand for her inspection, “—only a hair is needed to unlock the portal.”

A bark of laughter slipped from her throat once her eyes found the single silver strand wrapped around his fingers. “So, you've obviously had a plan from the beginning. You sought me out for possible connections to My Brother Once Was… but why do I still feel your presence like a second shadow? Why did you stay?”

Why indeed? Kennyo wasn't sure, even now, only knew that he felt a tug back to the mortal realm each time he stood at the precipice of Hell’s entrance. A pull that only ended in her presence like a fisherman's tether that had caught its prize. Not that he could tell her that, settling instead for indifference. “Why not?”

Her lavender eyes narrowed at the blasé response as if she could see through to the truth but kept her thoughts to herself. A sudden swell of music echoed through the stone walls of the palace to his ears, bringing back her usual radiant smile as she pushed from the balcony. A quick flourish of her hand had a pair of doors forming in the wall before her where previously only solid stone stood. Another flick of the wrist commanded them to swing, opening to a massive ballroom that hosted a moderate crowd of lavishly dressed dancers.

“What is this?” Kennyo questioned skeptically.

With a grin, she spun full circle as if to encompass the entire room until she met his gaze again. “My own means.”

He grinned at the repeated phrase from All Hallows Eve as he circled her in the same form of the dance portrayed by the dreamfolk before offering his hand to her in invitation. “So you often dream of parties that occurred before your time?”

She accepted his hand happily. “My time? Ha! You don’t know much of my kind, do you?”

“Of nephilim? Apologies, but no, I don't. The last Half-Born I know of was the giant Goliath.”

“Goliath? Truly? I didn’t realize we were so…”

“Rare?” He provided when her words trailed off.

“Yes… No wonder Heaven is so insistent on my conversion!” She shook her head, clearing her eyes of the evident disbelief before continuing with her original thought. “My twin and I were born in the spring of fourteen seventy-two but it wasn't until our fortieth winter approached that we realized we hadn't aged like those around us.”

Extended longevity, one more bit to file away on the knowledge of nephilim. “So these fashions and parties were of your time.”

“Yes,” her steps slowed a moment while she glanced around the ballroom, as if seeing memories of old play across her vision. “My brother’s scholarly pursuits lead us to London and in the presence of Henry VIII for a brief time. I was allowed to attend a party similar to this once.”

“Enjoyed it so much you now repeat it in sleep?”

The music ended and they parted per etiquette. “You catch on quick, Puzzle Maker.”

“I’d like to think so,” he raised his hand to her again as a new, lively tune arose.

Just as before, Kennyo picked up the rhythm of the new dance easily and was soon leading her through the steps as designed. She seemed to truly float in his arms with the absence of physical touch, the rustling of her dress along the floor as the only indicator she was there at all.

“Tell me, Lady Nephilim,” he started as he spun her in time with the music, pulling her back flush against his chest. “Why do you call me ‘Puzzle Maker'?”

“You've not offered another title for me to address you by, nor have you told me what you are. Our names have power, even on the Dreamscape, which is why I haven't asked you of yours or corrected that which you call me. Actually, I've grown quite fond of your gifted moniker.” She glanced over her shoulder to ensure he saw her grin. “Are you not a puzzle maker? Have to say, you had me fooled by all those games you sent me.”

“ ‘Games’?!” He scoffed at her flippant attitude, pivoting himself to face her again. “Did any of those ‘games’ challenge you? Frighten you?”

Her smile turned thoughtful for a moment. “The maze.”

“The maze? How so?”

“Come, I'll show you.” She turned on her heel and pulled him by the hand through the crowd. A curtain hung along the ballroom wall that she threw aside to reveal another set of double doors. They flew open without so much as a tap of her fingers, leading immediately outside where an expansive garden laid before them. A hedge work maze stretched as far as the eye could see, the wall of green standing twice Kennyo’s height and eliminating all visual capabilities aside from staring straight up into the sky.

“Now, let me think…”

His gaze settled back to her. The new, predatorial drawl to her words unsettled his resolve as the doors clamped shut behind them with a boom. A wolfish smirk blossomed upon her features when she released his hand and disappeared through a split in the trees. He sprinted through the same split, instincts screaming that he not lose sight of her. Truly, dear Lady, a chase?

“Something's missing...” her voice pranced across his ears as he turned the first corner. She was nowhere to be seen despite the closeness of her teasing statement. “Oh, now I remember!”

An ear shattering howl sounded from the entrance. If he possessed his physical senses, Kennyo was sure his lungs would have frozen. There was only one beast that could relinquish such a soul searing wail. He dove to the left wing and pounded down the gravel path, cursing himself for being so clever as to include Hell’s Hound in the crafted nightmares.

“And let’s not forget…”

A gale of wind whistled through the pathway with enough force to tumble him to his knees, leaves biting across his nose with the realization he could feel the sting. This was far beyond the common lucidity that even some mortals could master. Just what kind of sorcery did the Lady Nephilim practice to accomplish this feat?

The fiendish snarls of Hell’s cruelest creature grew close to his heels. If he could feel the leaves and wind, what damage could the hound’s fangs inflict?

The path brought him to another three way choice. He took the right wing this time, hoping to throw off the hound but still growls of the hunt followed his steps until another choice lay before him. Straight ahead it is.

Again? Right.

This is ridiculous! Left.

Kennyo happened upon another break in the tree line with the same choice trio. “What ‘game’ are you playing here?!” He shouted to the sky, knowing she’d hear him.

Her words were like warm honey over his conscious regardless of her role as the tormentor. “The very same you played at my expense. This one's not so fun, is it?” The chilled blast of wind carried the roar of the pursuing predator.

A sigh from the Nephilim. “Neither left, right, nor forward have proven successful, and you certainly can't go whence you came. Come now, think on it!”

The gale’s howling was rivaled only by that of the hound encroaching upon him. He had to choose again and he had to choose now but no matter which path he chose, it would continuously loop back to this same trident. How did she solve it when she was closed in on all sides—

No. Not all sides.

At the same moment the snarling beast would have captured him, Kennyo lunged onto a nearby branch of the hedge work and climbed. He focused solely on his footwork as he swung from one bough to the next, lest he fall to the jaws of his own handiwork. Once he scaled to the top, the ferocity of both wind and monstrosity ceased and he could see a clear passage to the epicenter.

She lounged across a stone bench waiting for him. She had changed from the golden gown of a queen to a shimmering cloth that matched her eyes, similar to that he often saw draped upon the women of Heaven when they came to dissuade contract seeking mortals. The robe flattered her greatly instead of appearing as if it had been wrapped around in haste and without care. She could have stepped into a painted rendition of the ancient isles and taken their wardrobe for herself.

Kennyo shook his head to clear away the distraction, focusing on her gaze. “You climbed the wall.”

“I climbed the wall,” she agreed, grinning again. “Though it took me nearly all night to figure it out, so I applaud your speed. Ironic that it took you seven turns.”

“Six,” he corrected only to witness her shaking her head.

“The climb counts as a turn, but enough of that.” She stood and crossed the distance to properly meet his gaze. “Why did you stay?”

“Pardon?” Why that question, of all things?

“My hair gives free reign to enter this realm and whatever plans you initially had for Nari dissolved once you learned I would be of no use to you. Yet, you continued to watch over me. Even now, here in the maze, you could have left at anytime. Yet, you worked through it. So I ask again… Why. Do. You. Stay?”

Persistent little thing aren't you? “I… wish I could tell you, dear Lady, but the truth is I don't know the answer.”

There was a glimmer in her eyes at the honesty. “I have a thought on that myself, but I think it best if you realize on your own.”

Suddenly, he wished he had told her of the frustrations of the last weeks, the sensation of being drawn back to her side, everything. In the centuries he walked as a demon, he possessed neither emotions nor indecisiveness. Only a hollowness that was continuously questioned by the mortals as he could never empathize with the tearful pleas or their need for the attentions of another. Even before selling his soul as a human, he’d been free of earthly entanglements and desires.

Now, he understood. Need. Desire. Longing. Did a term even exist to describe to the endless flurry of emotions swirling within him? As he willingly stood here at her mercy, he knew he would beg without qualms for an end to the storm just as much as he wished it to continue for eternity. How could he be affected so greatly? How was this possible?

There was only one impossible answer.

“You really do catch on quick,” she whispered as she lightly trailed a hand up his arm. “It appears you figured it out already.”

Kennyo framed her face in his palms, suddenly lamenting the lack of a physical presence. “Why?”

This time, the brilliance of her smile as she mimicked his motions of cupping his face nearly blinded him. “Why not?”

~*~

If you're curious, see the dress that I was inspired by and envisioned here:

~*~