#And like one passerby seal

[coconutflavoredsoap]

yes Calypso is stuck under her hat, save at your own risk

[speed-world]

Hey, I got this idea from watching some Dark Souls lore videos, so can I request a HC of beast cookies being beaten by a chosen Undead reader.

Plot: when the Beast cookies went on a rampage The Witches knew they had to stop them but the cookie were too powerful to do so so they decided to work together to bake a new cookie, a cookie that can weaken them to a point that they can be in prison, a cookie that can come back from the dead as much as possible until the deed is done, they call them the Chosen Undead Cookie

Sworn Purpose

The Five Beasts. The primordial Cookies created by the Witches as emissaries of the Godly Creators; that fell from grace due to their Absolute power corrupting them completely. The Witches couldn’t bear to see their creations promised as saviors turned apostles of evil, and so they punished the Beasts by sealing them away in Beast-Yeast. At least…that was what should have happened.

The Beasts rebelled, refusing to go quiet into the night. They broke free from their shackles and dominated the lands of Beast-Yeast without challenge. The Witches refused to give up however, and would go deeply into a period of heavy trials and error in baking something …greater. They combined their magic to create a Cookie that could complete the task they failed too. A Cookie that would never rest until they sealed these Beasts, even if the Cookie was crumbled. A Cookie that will rise and rise again, as if freshly baked out of the oven, to complete their assigned life purpose. As the Witches spent numerous days and nights creating this Cookie, they’d mix so many flavors into to them that the Cookie was ultimately nameless to the Witches. When finally completed, passerby Cookies knew them only by a couple of names: Y/N Cookie, or their more known, and more appropriate moniker…Chosen Undead Cookie.

It was never easy completing your task, but you never once questioned it or the Witches. They told you all the features and names of the Beasts, that you must do whatever it takes to seal them away, and you followed as such.

During your first attempt, you could barely make a move against a jester before being crumbled in a mess of crumbs and jam. The last thing you heard was the jester laughing before you reawakened in a different location.

One of the many blessings you had received from the Witches was that you could communicate with and hear them. You could hear some the Witches applaud you for your efforts, and others express their apologies for what you must suffer through. It didn’t faze you though, you had a God-given purpose, and you’d curse at yourself if you never finished it. Maybe one day…you could live a fairly normal life, but it won’t happen until your job is done.

“Oh~? Pfffttt AHAHAHAHAHA~~!! Oh this is priceless, you’re still kicking huh? I mean, what attempt is this, number….59? 100? Isn’t this tiring to you buddy~?”

“Silence, jester. I am not tired, not one bit. I have been assigned this duty by the Witches, and I refuse to stop until you Beasts are sealed away…”

You stared at him with the same neutral yet angry expression that you almost always have. He upsets you, just as the other Beasts. And, like him, they will be sealed by your hand sooner or later.

“Really now…? How many times have you said that? And yet the result is still the same! I’ll give you credit though, you’re getting closer each time!! But all that means is that I’m improving myself to make sure you continue to be the failure you are!!”

“Am I the failure, Shadow Milk Cookie? You were meant to be a savior, a hero to all Cookiekind until the end of days, but you failed at your duty. Don’t tell me, are you jealous that I’m favored and know how to follow simple instruction? Does it upset you that I’m succeeding in the role you failed to fulfill?”

“Tch…didja learn to talk all smart while you were in between the states of dying and living? Those Witches can BURN IN THE OVEN, AND YOU’LL JOIN THEM YOU MISERABLE PUPPET!!!”

“….I’m assuming you’re done wasting your breath away now? I’m glad you’ll be the first I seal, your voice annoys me…”

You readied yourself again for the umpteenth time, and stared holes into Shadow Milk Cookie. “You are the miserable one here, jester…” You muttered to yourself, before clashing with the jester once more.

————————————————————————

The cold steps of the Ivory Pagoda are all too familiar for you now. The aroma of the incense, the reflective gold of the tiles, all of it was practically burned in your memory as you approached the Master of the Ivory Pagoda yet again. Of course, you couldn’t meet the Master without seeing the guardian of Ivory Pagoda as well.

“Oh, Master, look who’s back again~! You must really enjoy witnessing the truth that my Master has to show the world! At this point, you’re the most frequent visitor here to the pagoda, maybe you’d want to stay here for the rest of your life~? It’s not like your immortality is doing you any favors being the Witches’s pawn~…”

You ignored the mocking comments of Cloud Haetae Cookie. They’re not what you’re here for anyways, so they can berate you all they want, it won’t take your attention away from your mission. You walked past the haetae and stared up at the Beast, who didn’t even open her eyes to you.

“One day, you will come to see how pointless your mission truly is. Again and again, you challenge my truth and power, and again and again, you fail to understand that you’ll never succeed…”

“That is where your arrogance has mislead you, Mystic Flour Cookie. You insist on yourself so much that you fail to grasp the reality around you. More and more, I grow resistant to your power, and I keep parts of my flavor in spite of being turned to flour. One day, you will come to realize that the madness you speak of will never be heard as you’ll spend your days sealed away as you deserve.”

Mystic Flour Cookie doesn’t bother responding to you. She only waves her hand, uttering the phrase you’ve heard numerous times now: “Return to Flour…”. Your words were true: you were still maintaining your flavor and everything else about you, and only small crumbs were being taken away, albeit incredibly slowly. Then you lounged at her, slashing at her with your blade….and you cut her. Jam leaked out of her thigh from the gash you made. Although your magic and control over the chains and Witch’s fork specialized for sealing the Beasts weren’t strong enough yet, you were making fast progress.

Cloud Haetae Cookie was shocked, but Mystic Flour appeared unfazed as usual. But one thing was abundantly clear, you were improving. Even if you didn’t seal her during this time, you would overcome her powers and seal her away, even if you were crumbled to flour in the process. Mystic Flour will be sealed, just like the other Beasts, and you’ll rise and rise again until your deed is done and all of the Beasts are sealed away.

————————————————————————

Hellish blazing embers and the ruins of forests are the most recognizable sight you know. Whenever you hear the fires crackling, you know that you’re close to Burning Spice Cookie. Burning Spice stares daggers into you just as you stare a hole back.

“You again, eh? How many times are we going to do the same song and dance until you’ve crumbled for good? Those damned Witches must have spent days, perhaps weeks trying to perfect a herald to defeat us, and your failure of an existence is all they have to show for their efforts. It would be funny, if it weren’t so sad and true…”

“I’ll keep coming back as many times as needed until you—“

“Yeah yeah, until us Beasts are sealed away. You’re a broken record at this point, and it’s really beginning to annoy the Hell out of me…. Then again, you do have your uses for being a toy, free for me to play with and break whenever I feel like it. So c’mon, let’s not waste words and entertain me, Chosen fool~…”

You smirked at Burning Spice; at least you two could agree on something, that being words are useless at this point. You steeled yourself and gripped your sword tightly, and Burning Spice did the same with that giant axe in hand. All you need to do is seal away Burning Spice, and even if you crumbled in the process, it will be done.

————————————————————————

The skies were an incredibly dark shade of pink, and you’ve slowly grown to hate it when the skies were like this. Mainly because you knew who it was that was around, and Witches did Eternal Sugar Cookie, wielding the power of Sloth, utterly piss you off.

All Eternal Sugar did was yawn on top of the cloud she rested on, and looked at you haphazardly with her hand resting on her cheek*

*Yaaaaaaawwwwnn* “Ahh, who’re you again? You always come here for ah…some mission from the Witch’s I think? Can’t you bother anyone else with your nonsense, I have a lot of better things to do than waste my precious energy on you agaaaaiinn…”

The tone in Eternal Sugar’s voice and manner is what really bothered you the most. Although it was fitting of the Sloth power she held, she just couldn’t care less about you or whatever inhumane actions she did to others. Granted, you weren’t much for words yourself, the most you talk is when dealing with the annoyance is Shadow Milk Cookie, so at least with Eternal Sugar you can get right to the point without any hesitation.

“At least you know what I’m here for, Beast…I’ll gladly make sure you’ve suffered in the last moments of your recreation…”

“Mhmmm, sure thing. Just hurry up and crumble already so you can bother someone else when you resurrect, please~….

Without waiting anymore, you charged at the lackadaisical Beast. Thankfully, the more you do this the more stronger and better you’re getting. Because the sooner you seal away Eternal Sugar, the better. Not just for the Witch’s and Cookiekind, but for the sake of your own mind.

————————————————————————

The eerie silence of the area you stepped into would be enough to scare any being beyond belief. It was dark, quiet, perfectly becoming the scene any scared children would have when fearing the dark. Only this was no dream, is was the brutal reality of a vicious Beast that you could never seem to get an upper hand against.

Silent Salt Cookie was just standing there, sword in hand as always. Out of all the Beasts, Silent Salt doesn’t do anything else now except wait for you. Silent Salt knows of your ability to keep coming back to life after dying and knew sooner or later you’d be back.

The quietness from you and Silent Salt was loud and easy to understand. You weren’t much for words yourself, no need to start now with a quiet Cookie. You both knew each other well enough, understanding the other’s goal in mind as you both nodded and readied your swords yet again. The area soon became loud with the sounds of clashing swords in a struggle of life and death.

Until your mission is fulfilled, until the Beasts are sealed away and no longer a threat to Cookiekind, then you will be raised from the dead. Retaining your mixture of flavors, knowledge and power, and using all of them against the foul Beasts that defiled their roles as promised saviors. Until the deed is done…

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

Hrn. All the vamp talk got me thinking about vamp Stan and hunter Ford. Just gonna throw this out there and run away.

Au where Bills some mega lord vampire, sealed away for millennia that tricks Ford in a very similar manner, except here Bill does get out and starts the vampire apocalypse. Ford, betrayed, works on becoming a vampire hunter and putting an end to Bills reign before it can begin. Becomes a super vampire hunter badass and tries to track Bill across the country, staking all the baby vamps he can on the way.

Bill wants to turn Ford into a vamp and make him his right hand vamp man, because he's obsessed and doesn't understand 'no' just thinks Fords playing hard to get while Bill's vamps start spreading further and further than can be controlled by only Ford. Ford unintentionally starts a vampire hunting party of some kind, and gets more and more allies against the rising undead. Bill puts a bounty on Fords head to bring him to Bill alive, so that he can do a whole 'seducing to the dark side' bit with him.

Then he gets Stan instead, who has no idea whats happening to him and Bill is not happy to see. Figures 'hey! I'll just drain spare parts dry and leave him as a present for Fordsy to find. He'll totally freak over his brother's husk, or he'll be grateful i took out his worthless brother who he hates. Either way, fun for me.'

Drains Stan, leaves him in a box in a warehouse or something for Ford to find. Except when Ford rolls up Stan's already long gone, and he has no idea what Bill was keeping there. Makes a whole conspiracy about it, while Bills wtf's about how Stan turned into a full vamp and busted out. He didn't do that, unless he did? Did he accidentally turn the lesser Stan before getting the one worth anything? Disgusting, he doesn't want this knock off Stan in his vampire army, and hey! What happened to all the other vampires he left in the warehouse to jump Ford!

Bill did not turn Stan. Stan's got a smorgasbord board of vamp blood in his system that turned him when Bill bit him. So i guess Bill sort of did it? on complete accident and not even trying.

Because when the vampocalypse started and Stan, a lone homeless man and therefore perfect target, got jumped immediately and bitten by some rando, his reaction, as a known crazy person, was to bite them back about it. Instant vampire reaction of pulling away and going 'wtf' at this guy who bit them? Thats not how this works? Gives Stan just enough time to clock them in the face and run for the hills while they compute whatever just happened to them.

Stan has no idea he's been jumped by dozens of vampires, he just thinks muggers are really into biting lately, and none of them like it when he bits back. His teeth hurt because of his partials acting up from all the biting he's been doing. He feels sick because he accidentally ingested just, so much blood lately from all the self defense biting. Who knows what kinds of diseases those weirdo's have in their blood. Food doesnt taste as good because, again, he's sick. Same with the sun piercing his eyes. Except eventually he freaks himself out by actually looking forward to the next time he gets jumped, because he's gotten a taste for vampire blood.

Oh god, its some kind of disease that makes people bite each other! Except Stan doesn't want to jump a random passerby, just the guys that jump him. Maybe's hes got some mutant biting strain, he doesnt know. Starts making himself even more of a target, just to bite more vampires that he thinks are messed up muggers.

Then he gets nabbed, dragged to Bill, eaten, and wakes up in a box, for extra truama. He's hungry, terrified, retraumatiazed, and needs out.

So he does, then uses his much better, none fake new chompers to drain all the vamps Bill had stuck around, since he's already got a taste for vampire blood. Unsure if Stan's a vampire eating vampire, or if he's just a cannibal here. Either way, he's undead and still has no idea whats going on, just that a creepy guys obsessed with his brother and was mad he wasn't him and also tried to kill him? Good thing Stan's got the luck of the devil and the survivability of a cockroach!

No idea Bill still wants to kill him for daring to not be Ford and now a vampire. No idea Ford thinks he was some sort of super vampire Bill sent to kill him or terrorize people and is now trying to kill him. Thinks he's suffering from some kind of biting disease, because vampire's arent real, and he doesnt really remember slaughtering all the vamps due to hunger and blood craze. Just woke up back at his car and covered in blood. Which is normal, because people keep biting him. If we go by vampire rules of 'not fully turned until they drink human blood' he can still sort of go in the sun and eat food without vomiting, he just feels awful. Obviously because he's ill from all the blood he's been drinking, because people keep biting him.

Really, the idea of vampires biting him but Stan getting away by biting back just amused me. Plus all the vampire Stan i've been seeing around

[subbmissivesuccubus]

Part 2 of this~

Content : Rengoku X Fem reader X Uzui. Threesome. Exhibitionism. Oral sex (giving and receiving). Unprotected sex.

Taglist (Let me know if you'd like to be added to the list!): @its-missa

Not one to waste any time, Rengoku's hands slid up your Yukata, ignoring your yelp as he grasped what he was looking for.

"W-W-Wait! Rengoku-sa-aaann!" You squealed as the man grabbed your panties and slid them off of you, discarding them before immediately grabbing the back of your knees and pushing them up, making your body fold slightly. You failed to bite down your yelp as your legs were pushed to your chest, the position humiliating yet so hot- "W-We're outside!" You hissed, face turning even redder at the way the flame pillar was staring at your sex, a look in his eyes like he was mesmerized, the position making your cunt look extra plump and delicious. With the way the bench was situated, if you turned your head to the right, you'd see Uzui next to you and a couple feet behind him was the inn, close enough for people to understand what was happening if they happened to look this direction.

"Relax, cutie~" Uzui said, the arm he had around you running up your waist before he grabbed your left breast, his hand big enough to envelop it pretty well, squeezing it like a toy through the fabric. "We're Hashira afterall," he explained, chuckling as you writhed underneath them, an adorable blush on your cheeks "We can do whatever we like and no one would stop us."

"And I told you I'd prove to you that I'll make an excellent husband," Rengoku said, looking up with you with his bright eyes, filled with desire and lust, "so be a good girl and take it, alright?" "You- you can prove that inside the inn!" you hissed, but your body betrayed how excited you were, your pussy growing wet from the situation, a fact Rengoku immediately noticed. "I'm an impatient man." he said, pressing his lips against your inner thigh and sucking a hickey onto it, making your toes curl, "and it seems my wife to be is quite an impatient woman too."

With that, he placed a sweet kiss to your clit, hands running down to the back of your thighs, his hold on you still tight, keeping your body steady and folded the way he wanted it to be. His tongue flicked out to start twirling your clit around, running in circles over the cute bud before he started flicking it, the point of his tongue assaulting it mercilessly. You slapped a hand over your mouth as your legs already started shaking, Rengoku's hot tongue so sinful. His groans traveled up your spine as he sealed his lips around your clit and sucked, making you hiccup at the suction. Giving it a light nibble, he then pulled away to drag his tongue from your hole all the way to your clit over and over again, the man moaning from the taste of your slick. Shaking his head from side to side, his tongue ran all over your pussy, licking up every nook and cranny, eating you out like a man starved.

"You know, despite the fact that I'm jealous he getting to taste you first tonight," Uzui said - practically sitting on his side as he was turned towards you, his big body partially hiding you from any passerby's as his right hand gently slipping into the folds of your Yukata to grasp your left breast, "Getting a close view of your adorably lewd expressions is quite the treat~" You mewled, breathing heavily through your nose as Rengoku stuffed his tongue inside your aching hole just as Uzui started squeezing your bare tit, greedily playing with it before his fingers focused on your nipple, trapping it between his thumb and forefinger before giving it a harsh pinch. Rengoku groaned as he felt your pussy tighten around his tongue, pulling away for a second to say: "Do that again. She likes it."

Uzui's chuckle made your spine shiver, the man kissing your cheek before his hands grabbed the folds of your Yukata by your chest and roughly pulled them apart. You squealed as your bare breasts were exposed to the cold wind, settling down with a bounce, your nipples hardening instantly. "No bra. How naughty~" Uzui teased, eyes glued to your pretty chest. "Th-That's cause- just came out of the bath- ah!" You barely got to finish your sentence before Uzui leaned down and took a nipple into his mouth, your other boob being squeezed by his hand.

Pussy gushed around Rengoku's face, the man drinking it like he was dying of thirst as you tried your hardest to not make any sounds. You slapped both hands over your mouth, pressing down tightly and muffling your moans as Uzui's hot tongue danced around your sensitive nipples, teasing it a bit before he sealed his lips around it and sucked so hard it made your toes curl.

Out in public, tits and pussy out in the open, Yukata hanging on for dear life by your waist- you couldn't believe this was happening. "You're a sensitive little thing, aren't you?" Uzui asked with a chuckle as he switched from one nipple to the other, "Even when we took you last time- even the slightest touch got you hot and bothered. It's so fucking cute- mmph~" Latching onto your other nipple, Uzui moaned into your skin at the feeling of your hard, sensitive bud against his tongue. He was getting so addicted to your reactions, he couldn't help but give it a gentle nibble, cock twitching as he heard your muffled yelp.

Rengoku was just as addicted, slurping up your slick as he stuck a finger into your pussy, groaning as your hot, wet walls enveloped it. He couldn't wait to get his cock in you- but only after you came in his mouth. "Hold you leg up." he ordered and you did as you were told, moving a hand away from your mouth to grab onto the back of your left leg, holding it up for Rengoku as he continued to finger you, sliding a second one in and curling it just right.

You were trying your hardest to muffle your moans, tears in your eyes from restraining yourself. You'd often look to the side to see if anyone was watching, and while no one was, you always felt like someone could be and you didn't know if that made the situation hotter.

"G-Gonna c-cum-" you whined, voice breaking from the restraint. Your nipples were sucked and bitten raw, hickies littering your chest as Uzui still continued to shower your breasts with attention. Your juices were dripping down Rengoku's hand, his mouth still unrelenting as he sucked your clit, giving it gentle nipples. "Cum for us, baby." Rengoku groaned into your pussy, "Cum in my mouth- want to taste you~"

You bit your bottom hard enough to almost draw blood, your body shaking as you could feel your orgasm get closer and closer and closer and you knew you wouldn't be able to keep your voice down. You moans were already loud despite your best efforts, unable to smother men with how good the two of them were making you feel. As the knot in your abdomen threatened to break, just a few seconds away from an orgasm, your hand left your mouth as you got Uzui's attention.

"K-Kiss me!" you begged, pulling his Yukata desperately, trying to get him away from your chest to help you out, "Kiss me p-please- mmph!"

Uzui didn't hesitate for even a second as he moved upwards and slotted his lips against your just as you climaxed. One hand on your breast as he squeezed, he expertly shoved his tongue down your throat, swallowing your moans and holding you down as your orgasm made your whole body shake in pleasure. He groaned at the feeling of you squealing into his mouth, making you gag on his tongue, the kiss a filthy mess of spit and teeth and he loved it. Rengoku's moans and groans added to the pleasure, the man's hot tongue relentless as he helped you ride your orgasm. He continued to suck and lick, wondering if he was in heaven as directed your plush thighs to close tightly around his face as he drank down your climax, his face smushed between the soft flesh. Pussy gushing around his face like a faucet, he slotted his mouth against your cunt, sucking, licking and drinking you up until a shaky hand came up to push him away due to the over-stimulation. With a final kiss to your clit, Rengoku pulled away, breathless, face red and lips wet.

Uzui pulled away from the kiss, both of your lips swollen and red, breathing in each others air as you panted heavily from the force of your climax along with Uzui taking your breath away. He pressed his forehead against yours, rubbing his nose against yours sweetly.

"Come here." Rengoku said, pushing himself up to his legs, Uzui moving out of the way before he kissed you, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You could taste yourself on his lips, shivering at the sweet way he kissed you, a stark contrast to the filthy kiss you just had with Uzui. You yelped into the kiss as Uzui touched your sensitive pussy, the man cupping it with his palm before gently rubbing it up and down. "Good girl," Uzui said, petting your pussy gently, "He did quite the number on your poor kitty, huh?" "You did such a good job," Rengoku moaned into your lips, "So good for us." he pecked your lips again and again, a sweet gesture among a filthy situation.

"I wanna..." you gulped, mouth dry, feeling shy as Rengoku started peppering your face with kisses, "I wanna make you two...feel good too." your eyes glanced over their bodies, their erections pressing against their Yukata's.

"Let's go inside." Uzui said, taking his hand off of your pussy to start righting your clothes, "you might have been able to keep your voice down when he ate you out- but i'm sure you won't be able to do the same when we get our cocks in you."

-----

Uzui was absolutely right.

"Ah! Fuck- ah-ah-ahh!" You squealed as Uzui pushed inside you, his fat cock splitting you open deliciously. He grunted above you, silver locks falling over his shoulder as he drove his cock deeper and deeper inside you, licking his lips as he got a good view of your expression. Your hands fisted the futon beneath you, head tossed back against the pillow, eyes closed tightly as your body trembled with the feeling of getting speared on Uzui's cock. All three of you were buck naked, a tight fuck pile on your futon as you started what was going to be the first of a few rounds.

"Come here baby." Rengoku said, stroking his cock as he positioned himself beside your head, "give me that pretty mouth." You opened your eyes enough to look over at Rengoku, pussy throbbing as you watched him work his member, obediently opening your mouth for him. He hummed as he moved closer, running a gentle hand through your hair before he pushed himself past your lips, letting out a lovely moan as you sucked him in. Your lips first sealed around his cock head, sucking him like a treat, tongue dancing over him. He made you feel so good- you were excited to return the favor. Your tongue dug into the tip, tasting his precum, smiling as Rengoku's body jumped, groaning at the feeling. Eventually you opened your jaw more, an invitation for Rengoku to push his cock deeper into your mouth.

"oh- fuck yes-" Uzui groaned as he bottomed out, his balls throbbing against your pussy as he gave you a second to adjust to his size. He ran a hand up and down your body, grabbing handfuls of your tummy and chest as your pussy gushed around him, your attention split between the two of them.

"Gonna start moving, okay?" Uzui said, licking his lips as he made you wrap your legs around his waist, towering over you as he placed his hands on the futon, holding himself up, "be a good girl and take it, okay?" Your moaned around Rengoku's cock in confirmation and that was enough for Uzui. Gritting his teeth, he started moving his hips, slowly dragging his thick cock out and in, out and in. He could feel your slick, hot, tight walls press against him deliciously, your heat making his head spin already. Every time he pulled out, it felt like your walls were sucking him back in, begging him to come back inside which he happily did.

"Oh you're such a good girl- my good girl- my perfect wife~" Rengoku moaned, more vocal of the two as he slowly pushed down your throat, loving the way you gagged around him. One hand grabbing a bouncing breast, the other one in your hair, he gently started fucking your mouth, cock going in and out of your throat. Uzui snickered, picking up the pace as your cunt got used to him, "She tightened at that~ you like being called wife, baby?"

You mewled as Rengoku suddenly pushed himself completely into your mouth, eyes watering as his cock was down your throat, gagging several times before you tapped his thigh. He slowly pulled out, letting you breathe and cough, your hand obediently coming up to jerk his slobbered on member as you collected yourself.

"Look at you, such a good wife for us~"

You gasped, back arching as Uzui picked up the pace, balls slapping against you as he drove his member into you. His cock was hitting your g-spot, making your moans jump in time with his thrusting, pleasure coursing through your veins. Uzui's hands grabbed your hips, grip bruising as he chased his pleasure, mouth open and moaning as your pussy milked his cock perfectly.

"Deep throat me again, darling." Rengoku said, tightening his grip on your hair as he moved forward to push his cock into your mouth again. With a deep breath, you opened your mouth and groaned as he pushed in, this time going deeper and deeper until his abdomen was touching your nose, his fat cock lodged down your throat. This time, he started moving his hips, driving his cock up and down your throat, balls slapping against your face as he started fucking your face. His eyes rolled to the back of his head from the pleasure, mouth open in a constant moan at how amazing your mouth felt around him.

Uzui was no better, his hips now practically a blur with how vigorously he was pounding your pussy. Jack-hammering into you, his mouth spilled pure filth as he fucked your brains out, loving that he could see your expression change as you got more and more cock drunk.

"Such a naughty wife! You love this, don't you? Taking two fat cocks at once- such a slutty little girl~"

"Don't be mean, Uzui." Rengoku said, gritting his teeth as pleasure took over him, "she's being such a good wife for us- making us feel so good-"

"Can't wait till we get married~" Uzui said, raising your legs to his shoulders, holding onto them as he pounded you, loving the way Rengoku's cock failed to muffle your moans of pleasure, "you'll look so beautiful- oh fuck- in your wedding dress. I can picture it now~"

"Oh, yes!" Rengoku said, a statement of agreement and a moan of pleasure, "oh darling- you'll be the most perfect- fuck me- the most perfect bride in the whole World. Oh- how did I get so lucky?"

You pulled away from Rengoku's cock, jerking him off as you needed to second to scream- the pleasure and their words making your brain go crazy. "Fuuuuck!" you cried out, tears in your eyes, voice jumping from Uzui's thrusts, your tits bouncing up and down, "S' too m-much- you both- fuck- fuck- make me f-feel so- so good!"

"You can take it baby." Rengoku said, cupping your face lovingly, "don't you want be our good wife and take it?"

you nodded, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Uzui's cock reached even deeper inside you, pounding against your cervix. "Say it." Uzui said, sweat dripping down his face as he felt his orgasm approaching, "Say it for us."

"W-W-Want to b-be a good w-wife for you t-two." you sputtered, mind going dumb. Both the men hissed and groaned, Rengoku putting himself back in your mouth enthusiastically and you felt Uzui somehow grow harder inside you.

"I'm- fuck- fuck- fuck- i'm close!" Uzui said, now pushing your legs up into a mating press, pressing them down against your chest as he used his whole body weight to pound you, balls making a loud and sticky clapping sound against your ass. Rengoku was just as enthusiastic, holding your head still as he thrusted into your mouth with reckless abandon, his balls clenching as he knew he was close to cumming. You lied down and took it, mind and body being driven to the edge as you felt your own orgasm come close, loving the feeling of being used by them in such a dirty yet intimate way.

"I can't fucking wait to wife you up!" Uzui growled, "my naughty little bride- fuck!" he licked two fingers before sliding it between you two, rubbing your clit. You squealed around Rengoku's cock and that seemed enough to drive the man to the edge.

"fuck- fuck- fuck! I'm gonna cum-" he suddenly pulled out of you, grabbing your hand desperately and placing it on his cock. "Jerk me off baby-" he pleaded, face as red as the tips of his hair, "Want to cum all over my wife's face."

You gasped and heaved as you wrapped your hand wround the flame pillar's cock, his dick slick from your saliva as you moved your hand up and down quickly, jacking him off as you leaned forward to put his cock-head into your mouth, sucking on it.

"fuck- i'm gonna cum too-" Uzui said with a growl, fingers flicking your clit mercilessly, cock continuing to pound your pussy into next week, "Fuuuck- let's all cum together!"

"P-Please-" you begged, eyebrows furrowed and tears streaming down your cheeks, "together- want to- please-"

"I'm so close- fuck- come on- come on- come on!" Rengoku moaned, eyes closed tightly as you jerked him off. Uzui mirrored the same sentiment, chasing his orgasm and yours as he fucked and fucked and fucked. You don't know what took over you but your mouth worked faster than your brain as you knew exactly what to say to drive them over the edge:

"W-Want my husbands to cum for me~"

With a shout, both men climaxed simultaneously, gasping loudly from your words and the force of their orgasm. Balls clenching and eyes rolling to the back of their heads, the room was filled with shouts and cries, the force of their orgasms making their bodies shake. the feeling of Uzui filling your womb up with his hot, hot cum and of Rengoku splashing your face with ropes and ropes of his thick semen made you climax, pussy squirting jets of liquid as you wet the futon underneath you, your squeals and cries echoing through the room. You didn't know how thick the walls were but consider the noise all three of you were making- you had to assume it wasn't thick enough but you didn't care. All three of you trembled and moaned lewdly, grasping onto each other tightly as the force of the orgasms almost made everyone pass out. Almost.

"You...naughty fucking minx!" Uzui barked out with a laugh, catching his breath as he milked his balls for every drop, rolling his hips to make sure he filled you up to the brim, "Saying something like that- oh fuck- so hot."

"You have no idea what you do to us." Rengoku said, coming back down to Earth as he looked down at the mess he created, chest swelling with pride as he saw your pretty face stained with his cum, "My naughty wife. I hope you're not tired already. Your husband want's a chance fucking your pretty pussy."

"And this husband wants to see you gag on his cock~" Uzui said, slowly pulling out, hissing at the sight of your gaping pussy leak out his cum.

You gulped as you caught your breathe, body tensing as you strapped in for a long night. Oh boy, you sure did open something in them by calling them husbands and now, it was time to pay the price.

[xbugs]

Distraction

Lukas x Reader

fluff

reverse comfort

massage

romantic

established relationship (I think)

I'm sorry to any poor soul actually reading this - this was written at like 1 am while I was very tired so this probably has no depth whatsoever.

1.4k words - one shot

This is almost like a test fic but I still hope you enjoy it! :) Also there are like almost no fics so gotta rectify that. If you're interested in an Alanas fan fic please check out my friend @milk-bby

The streets of Vilnius bustled as you ran down the paved streets, the trams and traffic passing you in your peripheral vision. The plastic bag grasped between your fingers rustled quietly from your fast paced steps. You looked around to make sure you turned the correct streets in the bustling city. You were still getting used to the intricately laid out streets of Vilnius having moved to live in the cityscape a few months back. It was late spring and the humidity prophesied incoming rain and the clouds swirled in multiple shades of grey. You looked around diligently before lightly jogging across the street to cross, nearing your location. You were supposed to bring Lukas lunch, even if he didn’t know that. You had decided to do so and he would have to deal with it. 

Eventually, the familiar studio came into view as you traversed the streets. You walked towards the glass door with the white lettering engraved into it to signify passerbys of the studio's name. You stepped inside, relieved to hide from the brewing rain and hustle and bustle of the city, politely greeting the receptionist that took care of all the studio bookings. She didn’t question your arrival, smiling politely, having seen you around a few times in the past. Almost as if on instinct or muscle memory you made your way up the steps, heading to the hallway with studio doors and busy artists. As you paused outside of a familiar door faint music filled your ears, familiar beats and guitar strums quietly filtering through the soundproof foam on the walls inside. 

Once the music came to a stop, signifying a break or an end of a song, your knuckles rapped on the door. There was some shuffling inside before the door opened and a familiar figure met your eyes, a mix of blonde and brown streaks falling in front of his blue eyes, the familiar eyebags that seemed to always linger mimicking yours. He looked surprised to see you, almost like you were the uninvited kid at a birthday party. After an almost ritualistic and usual staring contest he shifted out of the way to let you into the studio cabin, his demeanour easing up. You automatically looked around, feeling overwhelmed by all the buttons and dials, almost as if you were in a spaceship of some sorts. 

“What are you doing here.?” He murmured, an overworked hand running through his hair that seemed to constantly fall in front of his eyes. You jokingly considered buying him hair clips as a joke. 

“I brought lunch.” You replied, glancing over at him, your voice matter-of-fact. You held up the bag in your hand, the food sealed behind the white rustling plastic.

His gaze seemed to almost immediately soften with gratitude, his lips parting for a moment before he spoke. “You didn’t have to..” He muttered. “But what did you bring?” He followed up almost instantly. You definitely had to.

You smiled, almost slyly, but not all the way there. “Koldunai. Kepti.” 

Without missing a beat he pulled up a chair for you, silent gestures of kindness. The two of you sat down as you unravelled the styrofoam food box with the fresh dumplings inside. You carefully handed it to him along with a plastic fork. He rushed a thanks before making sure the sauce was adequately mixed with the dumplings, trying not to drop any. 

“They smell good, thanks.” He stated before beginning to poke through the shell of the dumplings and eat, careful not to drop any. “We’re not really supposed to eat in here.” He said with a sense of defiance in his tone, eliciting a chuckle from your lips. 

You watched him eat for a while, ready to offer a napkin at moments notice. Your elbow rested against the empty ledge of the table of buttons, eyes trailing his form. He did offer you some but you insisted you had bought it for him. In reality you may have grabbed a small snack on the way to the studio. You even discarded his trash for him as the moment he was finished he was back in work mode. You huffed before stretching and moving to stand behind his seat, watching him work over his shoulder.

”I can’t concentrate if you’re staring.” He said in a passing whisper, his hands typing away on his keyboard.

”Well, maybe I don’t want you to work.” You retorted, a few wind tousled strands of hair falling in front of your eyes. Lukas let out a soft breathy chuckle, slightly rolling his eyes at your statement. 

“You never do.” He reminded you, his words playfully chastising. “That’s why I usually don’t let you in. You’re a distraction.” 

You playfully nudged his shoulder, not enough to cause any harm if he were to press the wrong button. “Take a break.” You urged, voice half playful and half serious. He scoffed playfully, glancing up at you momentarily.

A soft hum left your lips, ignoring his dismissal of your urgency. Your hands gently ran over his shoulders, attempting to soothe the tense muscle under his greyscale shirt. He tensed for a moment before his shoulders started to relax and drop down, occasionally shifting into the pattern of your hands. He let out a satisfied grunt as your hands moved from his shoulders and up his neck before tangling into his bleached hair. “Maybe I can take a small break..” Lukas said quietly before his eyes fluttered closed, his frame leaning back into the seat, almost moving it side to side on its spinning mechanism. 

A satisfied smile graced your lips as he gave in, that’s usually how it went. Your hands moved through his hair, fingers brushing his scalp in a combing manner, almost like the calm waves of Palanga when you visit in the late summer evenings. You watched in relief as his features softened, relieved with the chance of a break amidst the chaos of work and deadlines. “See? It’s not that bad.” You teased quietly, not wanting to ruin the calm.

He nodded weakly, his eyes peacefully shut and lips ever so parted. You leaned a little closer, lips brushing against his neck in a ghosting manner. He hummed in recognition but didn’t attempt to stop you. The dim lighting in the studio added to the calming atmosphere, the foam padded walls eliminating any hustle and bustle from the outside. It could’ve started raining by now and you just wouldn’t know, lacking the pitter-patter on the nonexistent glass panes. Your hands left his scalp, moving back to rest on his shoulders, thumbs massaging the tense muscles. Your lips moved up to his jaw, the pressure of your lips holding more weight now, proper kisses. His hand reached up, finding one of yours on his shoulder before tangling his fingers with yours, his hand giving yours a grateful squeeze. 

“You always do this..” He complained with no real malice, his hair tousled from your hands combing through it moments before. 

You gently pulled your lips away, fingers still intertwined with his. “Do what.?” You played innocent, managing to hold back an incriminating smile as you hovered behind him.

“I’m not even going to argue with you.” Lukas retorted, rolling his eyes playfully. Not wanting to ruin the relaxing sensation of the moment between the two of you. 

“You wouldn’t win anyway.” You huffed with pride in your eyes, watching as his hand holding yours shifted.

He raised an eyebrow in disbelief, words stunted at your playful audacity for a moment. He raised your hand to his lips, placing a kiss to your knuckles before glancing up at you. “Do you want me to pretend I didn’t just hear you say that?” He teased, a smug smirk on his lips as he let go of your hand.

Your fingers gently twirled a strand of his hair around them gently, the motion slow and soft, the blonde perfectly swirling around your skin. “Yes, please..” You muttered, letting him inflate his ego for a moment.

You didn’t mind. You never did.

[multiplicationdivision]

Beach Body

——————————————————————————

The beach was a perfection like nothing the town of Rusty Coast had seen in the last recorded memory. Gone today were the rocky waves lapping amidst thick fog and heavy crashing of the winter fishing season. The air from miles out was still and comfortably warm from the coming summer, a fact that would’ve made it feel lonely if not for the steady rhythmic pound of waves accompanied by the rise and fall of cackling gulls and the occasional sneeze of a seal somewhere in the distance. Somehow in this cove the frigid pacific water was warm, the curls of seafoam lapping up the beach onto their feet before sinking back in with the countless bubbles of hidden sand crabs.

Rhett could already feel himself baking in this sun, although that was no indication of the sun today. Being a Irish man in California was just a fact of burning sometimes, not that getting pink in just a couple of minutes was ever fun. Worse when your company seemed to only relax in this secluded place’s warmth, his two housemates relaxed as they moved set up their towels and awkwardly drag their single board onto the sand.

Evan was the darkest one out of all of them, although a few quarters of non-stop accounting classes certainly pulled as much color out of him as possible. Same with Oliver, who’d once discovered this beach ages ago when he’d had the time to surf.

Now they were a house graduated, each of their degrees piled on their kitchen table and only the evidence of the work it took to get them being the scrawniness of their muscles and the near complete translucence of Rhett himself. It had felt like years before physical activity was even an idea in their heads, but it was felt now.

“You struggling Oliver?” Rhett called out to the guy clearly coming apart at the task of pulling the massive surfboard across the rocky tidepools. Even the crabs seemed slightly worried for the guy, having the mind to leave a large berth for his flailing. It was odd to imagine Oliver used to surf on that board nearly everyday and Rhett and Evan couldn’t help thinking that it was slightly pathetic. It was paired with their affection at the “please ignore me” look on the guy’s sweaty face, although sharing a bed with the guy would likely ensure it.

“Fucking idiot” Evan sighed in the direction of the ever-stubborn Oliver, as he sat down, shrugging off his shirt and kicking off the converse that had already gotten heavy with sand. His body wasn’t much to look at these days to a passerby, but Rhett was a long-practiced connoisseur in enjoying what others were too shallow to appreciate. He let himself lean back into the guy, against the familiar warmth of the guy’s chest and the slight unpleasantness of the man’s chronically cold hands.

Evan was ever his particular brand of affectionate as he whined in displeasure “Dude your damn Nikes are getting sand on my towel”, his tone already betraying that he was saying it more for himself than Rhett. Rhett wasn’t in the habit of undressing himself these days and teasing Evan was as fun as it always was, although the idea of exposing more of himself to the sun than necessary was an equal component. Instead, he just grabbed a handful of sand and released it onto Evan’s head, watching the man sputter in annoyance.

“Evan, I think you have some sand on your face” Oliver said casually at the amusingly enraged man and the self-satisfied smirk of Rhett. The surfboard sat just a couple feet from the tidepools, Oliver having stealthily abandoned the task to the small company of crabs now crowding his old board. They guy was soaked with sweat and probably a tumble in the same tidepool, judging by the sandy mud on his shorts and a lost sandal.

Not that he would need the cheap cloth sandal being carried off by a crab in the distance.

They weren’t a foolish group having come here expecting to surf as they were. Hell they weren’t even dressed for it, Rhett in his jean shorts and the others in old basketball shorts. Not that they’d be dressed in much soon anyways, judging by the impatience tenting Oliver’s shorts, matching Evan’s own defiantly pressing against Rhett’s hand even as Evan tried unsuccessfully to douse Rhett in sand himself.

“Weathers so perfect boys that we could just spend today without any of that extra business” Rhett said jokingly, although he didn’t stop Evan from hooking his thumb under his shirt and wrestling it off of him just like they had so many nights this week.

Oliver enjoyed the sight and stretched, slipping his own athletic shirt off with a groan. His own little play on Evan’s weak mind judging by Evan seeming to slip at the distraction at the sight.

They’d gotten so far from the awkward pairing of roommates they’d been at the start of their college careers. Evan a supposed straight guy, Rhett a closeted bisexual and Oliver a nervous gay man. They’d been roomed together in a dorm their first year, some fluke leaving them three guys with a single bed. A month of two of them sleeping on the bed and then Oliver and Rhett had begun to share on their nights. A month after that and somehow Evan found himself tangled in their little pile, his sleeping bag rolled up into the corner.

Class was just too much to not have good sleep to stave off the exhaustion. That had been a good excuse before administration caught up to the fluke and got them a new bunk. At the time they hadn’t even really discussed it before the bunk was just another shelf, full of papers and junk.

Evan was no longer a self-described straight man, although one has to abandon the title when they start feeling FOMO after catching their bedmates sucking each other’s dicks after a cancelled class. Especially so after the six or seven-hundreth time of giving and receiving the act himself.

So they’d stuck together through all of college’s trials and tribulations. Found themselves a big enough flat with a single bedroom, each of them feeling some sense of their internalized homophobia act up even in the apathetic face of a apartment manager who couldn’t give a shit about what three college kids got up to in their spare time. Their separate closets seemed to merge after some time, initially just with the excuse of all the wasted space. Not that Rhett ever really cared about their collective image as platonic housemates, but it had taken the other two sometime to stop fixating on whose hoodie was who’s. You gloss over the lube visible under the bed enough times to your basketball friends and suddenly it seems like a wasted effort to care if your mixed up the underwear. Hell, they were even close enough in sizes that they could just wear whatever, although Oliver had become the defacto buyer. He’d bought every bit of clothing that now was now in a growing sandy pile beside him.

A anxious glance by Evan to their surroundings and the three’s jean shorts and black pair of boxers were tossed into that pile, leaving Rhett a self-satisfied hard naked man, the pair of Oliver’s Nike blazers he’d been wearing scattered around them.

“Completely private beach Evan” Oliver comforted, slipping his own shorts off and having no boxers to remove, the man never bothering to wear any when it was just them. A particularly unfortunate habit when he was packing so much, his oversized cock having been a particular distraction when they’d gotten Chipotle on the way. It wasn’t big enough to escape his shorts, but it had been enough for eyes to keep glancing the way of the thing’s attempted to escape the torn up synthetic fabric.

“Sorry I’m not an exhibitionist like you fucking perverts” Evan said as he awkwardly tried to sightlessly pull off his own shorts, struggling to do so under the weight of Rhett and the overwhelming draw of Oliver’s cock, now standing like a flag pole. It was especially ironic of a statement given he’d been the one to suggest this entire thing. What they were doing could’ve been done in the privacy of their own home, could’ve been done with no risk of someone witnessing it.

They’d done it like that so many time before, letting the process be done with closed blinds and locked doors.

Oliver had looked so empty as he’d looked at his surfboard this past three months though and Rhett had been especially pissy so many times in public when Evan had brushed off contact. Oliver couldn’t care less with how Evan acted beyond their bedroom but Rhett was right. Doing what they were doing on a private beach wasn’t much of a advancement in Evan’s fight against toxic masculinity, but the effort was enough to bring Rhett’s frustration back into his shit-eating grin that always marked him when he was at his happiest and horniest. Certainly helped get Oliver back into fighting order as well, the guy clearly very turned on himself, but more so looking at the surfboard more often than not, eyes glazed over with what was definitely the three’s evening after this.

Truth be told, Evan was a fucking pervert himself, so as much as he wanted to make his boys happy, he was also kind of turned on by the being out in the open on the beach thing. Rhett could see through him just like always, nudging him to look at his own sizable cock before giving it a single stroke before happily watching the static reach Evan’s brain.

“Our guy’s got his mind already so far in the gutter huh” the ginger man said at Oliver with a exasperated expression. Oliver just laughed, as if his shorts didn’t lay beside him wet with pre-cum.

“Getting ahead of ourselves isn’t he” Oliver said, bending down over them, cock nearing the positoon where it could easily slid into either Rhett or Evan if he wanted to. Both would be very receptive to the idea.

That wasn’t what was happening though.

“Just fucking get on with it Oliver.” Evan snapped, fighting every urge he had to wrestle the two others into the ground and fuck them himself, lest he physically explode. “Do you have the trunks or not”

Oliver’s practiced seductive face cracked before he rolled his eyes, accompanied by Rhett’s vocal disappointment at not continuing to mentally screw with the man he still held down under his own weight. Oliver was always the reasonable one of the three, but not enough to ever stop joining Rhett’s campaign at teasing their partner

“Fine, fine, yeah” Oliver said as he got back up, wandering over to the pile of clothes to fish into his short’s pockets. “You better have prepared them right”, he said, pulling out the fabric within them as Evan almost re-activated his mini rage at the idea of having not done their preparations right.

Four years in the running and he’d gotten fucking good at the spell.

The fabric wasn’t anything special. Just a pair of trunks, blue and white and much larger than their size 34 waists. A pair of swim trunks made for a man triple their size. The only hint of something peculiar about them being the mess of symbols stitched into the waistband.

The first year it had been a messy affair, borne of an accident with a strange grouping of strange people and acquisition of a relic of a necklace, with symbols embossed into its chain. The second year and a bad experience had been one they’d recreated when curiosity overtook locking that necklace in a lead box in their kitchen. The third year and Evan had a ge course of old witchcraft to get him through the process of amateurly experimenting with the situation, trial and error leaving him something like an expert in the only supernatural thing they’d ever witnessed. Year four and each of them had studied those symbols long and hard, seen every way their group shifted and changed the outcome.

Back at home a small collection of boxer briefs had the symbols stitched into it. It had taken an embarrassingly long time for them to figure out sizing up them to avoid going through a pair every time, but practice makes perfect. They’d had a while to figure out what fit them best after their little rituals, evident by the backpack in the jeep full of an outfit that would most definitely fit them when the day was done.

Evan looked at the never worn swim trunks shed a cloud of sand before watching Oliver ball up the fabric and throw it at the two, Rhett lazily catching it. The Irish man lifted the waistband up, making a show of inspecting the symbology before Evan snatched it from his loose grip.

Just a swipe of the runes by it creator and the stitching began to heat, a shine of blue tracing the threads. It left a pressure to the air, particles of blue lifting off as energy subtly wafted from the spell.

Evan could tell when Rhett was excited by the way he stopped a limp mass weighing him down. There was something in the energy that was intoxicating to the guy, although he’d always been proven to be susceptible to the sway of the supernatural. The guy had been the one who’d almost been snatched by the strange folk they’d stolen the necklace from, almost making Evan speculate if there was something magic too loved about the guy. The symbols were something reminiscent of Gaelic, so maybe this was all down to fairies.

Or maybe it was just because Rhett never hid how much he loved this shit. It bled into each of them as they could almost feel his movements echo into their own. Rhett’s hand coming up to held hold the trunks and move them past their feet, helping focus Evan’s motion as every touch of the symbols on their skin felt like pure twistings of nervous system madness, feeling their cells open up with every reprogramming of the runes into their bodies.

Oliver watched with rapt interest, hand on his cock as he watched the points at which the two’s feet stuck together, the skin already latching on and binding the feet into the same motions. Evan’s heel sinking into Rhett’s, the two tones of skin initially meeting like oil and water before blending into a gradient. Evan’s melanin leaking into the joining points and travelling outwards in all directions.

They managed to remember to move the trunks up further, even as the feeling of nerves joining brought their brains to jelly. They’d done this ritual so many times, yet Rhett’s skull still swum as he felt 20 toes move instead of his typical 10. It was worse when he could feel the sensation of sinking twice over, feeling the feet begin to sinking further into their counterpart. It was impossible to describe, the paradoxical feeling of one’s body in itself.

The runes dragged against their legs and they were magnetized between the two men. Calves gluing to each other as their feet further merged, the feeling of their feet feeling the insides of their counterparts like they were a skinsuit ready to be filled. The toes aligning, yet not having enough space to fit within each other and instead forcing the mass to expand outwards with no where else to go.

It left a pair of men joined at a pair of large feet, their calves merging as their tibias converged, muscles physically joining and building upon each other.

Oliver found himself unconsciously stroking his dick, only coming to from his studying of the way the legs converged by the look of Evan, having forgone the effort of continuing pulling up the trunks longside Rhett, the two having failed to will past the need of their body to release the pressure building up. The magic’s effects clashed with neurons, inevitably ending in the body concluding a massive pent up amount of arousal, always leading to the brain to forget the task at hand and begin furiously attempting to cum in anyway possible.

Not that cumming could help when the magic’s effects on cells made a refractory period non-existent. It was an effect that continue on post transformation, a reason they could never really do school work alongside maintaining the spell.

The two failed in their willpower and gave way to attempting to the impossible, Rhett hungrily grabbing his cock and pumping it as Evan failed to reach his own with Rhett on top of him, yet still connecting through his fading brainpower that a suitable hole was perfectly aligned with his cock.

Before the two could get two carried away, Oliver leaned over them and grabbed the trunks with a tight grip before pulling them up, feeling the runic power hot on his skin.

It was too much too soon for his boys, but that was always inescapable. The very fact that it had to be done is what left Oliver enjoy it so much, seeing the symbols leave after images of energy as they slid up. Watching Evan and Rhett’s eyes roll back as their thighs and waist burrowed together.

It was one thing to feel one’s leg hair scratch against the nerves of another’s skin, but it was mind melting to feel a cock sink far further than it should’ve into the body. Just one thrust and Evan’s cock sunk like it was moving through wet clay, dragging against Rhett’s entire prostate in a long torturous moment. It was headed for Rhett’s cock, destined to fill the thing in a way that its nerves wouldn’t be able to define.

Oliver watched the two be unable to fully commit to the motion before he knew it was his right to join, just when the two felt they’d reached the climax, Evan’s cock still not aligned to shove into Rhett’s. Oliver would help, but his route was going to be selfish.

It was often easier to fit their cocks together by size, like a matryoshka doll. Evan’s cock into Rhett’s bigger one, Rhett’s into Oliver’s monster. Well fitting sleeves, nestled within each other.

Fuck if that wasn’t boring though.

Oliver lifted up his transcending partners abdomens enough to shove his his feet under them through the waist band that was already tight around their conjoined waist. He’d always had the best strength of mind out of the three, but even he bulked underneath the weight of the runes nuclear energy deciding that it would be easier if his legs just slide directly into his partner’s, like he was sliding into a particularly awkward pair of pants. He steadied himself by tightly gripping Evan’s shoulders as he pushed himself in, feeling hugged from all sides as the mass of the conjoined body pressed in from all sides.

He powered through, feeling his feet finally squeeze past the ankles and wriggling his toes into their proper position just as the bones of his partners invaded and fused into his body, dissolving his flesh into its own and reconnecting his brain to the feeling of the combined mass, warm sunlight on legs that were now a perfect blend of their skin tones, Oliver’s ankle tattoo bloom up into the skin as if it had always belonged there.

When his waist finally locked into place he could feel his cock slide against Evan’s, the sensation bringing enough clarity to the guy’s mind to begin to object to what was going to surely burn out his mind. It was an entirely to simple of a motion for Oliver to twist his barely merged waist to slot into Evan’s cock before pressing into Rhett’s, holding up as he strained his neck over the two as he listened to them moan, almost in complete unison.

Rhett’s cock and Evan’s beneath it stretched as Oliver shoved his massive cock into them, forcing their skin to expand to his length, feeling his testicles join Evans before fusing with Rhett’s, leaving a sensation of overstuffing before an almost blue ball sensation of the balls combining took over.

One of them cursed and then the puzzle pieces connected, nerves finally aligning as Oliver and Evan’s cocks dissolved and then reformed Rhett’s cock into a combination of the three, a olive erection framed by dark auburn pubes. It was long enough for both Rhett and Evan to immediately take to it, their brains finally having a outlet for their raging desires as Oliver continued to fight falling into the hormones filling them all. 3 times of the testosterone pulsing upwards alongside the multiplicatively nerve dense cock sending waves of euphoria up them.

Rhett and Evan gave a final pump of their cock before their right hands stuck together, palms fusing to leave a many fingered hand that was soon pouring in a tide of semen that seemed to endlessly flow, most assuredly ruining their towel.

With no where else for the symbols to touch, the energy would always pour up into the body, allowing a respite in the overpowering sensation.

Rhett could feel his mind come back to him as he lifted up his fused right hand to his face, watching the cum drip off as his number of fingers decreased as the copies fused together. He could feel Evan help him control it, both of their brains moving it together. They’d been a chaotic tumble of limbs the first time this had happened, the necklace having been tried on by Rhett one fateful day leaving Oliver to discover the chaos made up of the Irish man and Evan.

They were pretty sure that necklace had been intended as a curse, but now they fused harmoniously, the nerves entangling and their brains having gotten used to moving as a group. It let them do such impressive things as move their legs together halfway through the ritual, or wipe off their massive hand of an absurd amount of cum.

The energy amassed in their cores and they let themselves press into each other, Rhett and Evan sinking into Evan’s chest. They could feel their ribs slot into each other and the spines line up before slowly fusing like they were being zipped up. Their hearts layered upon each other, not bothering to fuse as they settled into always pumping away impossibly from within each other. It would be the final evidence of them being separate people, feeling the slight asynchrony of the three’s hearts on each other.

Evan and Rhett lifted up their combined hand to feel it pump as their body reshuffled, the heads coming to comfortably line up instead of being lined up back to front.

“God I never want this to end” Evan choked out through their fusing lungs, feeling the quick pump of their separate hearts against each other. It left their cock harder than ever, already rearing to go, but Oliver was able to stop his endlessly horny partners with a simple slipping of his hand into their large shared arm. It was simply a glove and so much easier than the legs, feeling the knuckles crush together and the joints melt together. It was awfully trippy feeling his much smaller left hand in comparison to the much larger right, the sheer difference in muscular power astronomical.

They always ended up practically superhuman and it was only so long before that feeling of pure power was enough for them to forgo separation altogether. Oliver hoped today was the day that happened, with all their obligation and responsibilities behind them.

He wrapped his left arm around Rhett and Evans and before long they were a single indistinct mass, bundles of arms beneath a singular skin that fluidly aligned, the muscle and bone weaving together into a suitable match for the right. Both arms melding further until the shoulders finally completed merging, leaving the three with the unified need to stretch, feeling the back crack as tension released up the spines.

They were now one three headed body sitting on the sand as the waves crashed in the back. They hadn’t even needed the stimulation to let loose into the swim trunks, another massive volume of cum dripping out. Rhett gasped for them all before they stilled, heads beside one another with Evan in the center, Rhett taking the left and Oliver on the right.

They’d stayed at this stage before, letting the magic settle down before removing the fabric containing the symbols. It was a quite enjoyable thing, to be so fucking massive yet still completely themselves. Half of the reason why they could work so perfectly to stand up and stretch as they were now was built on winter and spring break experimenting with every way they could be multi-headed. They’d alternate who was in what position, testing which person had dominance over the limbs (the answer being random every time). Now Evan seemed to be the lead as he reached into their trunks to provoke yet another burst of cum that would leave all three dizzy, half falling over back onto the sand.

“We’ve gotta go further” Rhett said, holding onto the ball of energy in their chest. It was a reminder more so than a demand, all three having wanted for this final step for a year of class.

It wasn’t a privilege when they were still pretending to be three separate people. When they explained themselves as a throuple to hosts of acquaintances, the words ringing false every time.

They found themselves in sophomore year in each other. Experimentation had led to a point so far that to come back had felt laughable at the time. How they’d separated that first completion had been a miracle and every division felt worse and worse with every repetition. They couldn’t do a thing like this during their school years because there was always a risk they couldn’t differentiate back into three people enough to return. It got harder every time.

Even now they felt the absences in their minds. Memories they recalled remembering but that had returned to the rightful skull upon separation. Rhett’s forced enrollment in baseball as a teenager that only was looked on with fondness by how Evan’s and Oliver’s neurons fawned over how adorable he’d been. His own guilt towards never being enough for his distant father flung to the dark recesses of his brain as the memories of Oliver and Evan’s sweet upbringings gave him a childhood he could enjoy. Oliver’s endless tainting anxiety banished by the ever-present encompassing of others into his most private closed off spaces, handing off old traumas to be soothed by brain tissue that wasn’t trained to fixate on it all. Instead, Evan’s self-confidence overlaid it alongside what felt like the man’s overpowering appreciation for all things Rhett and Oliver, enjoying every tiny quirk and flawed complication to the two, which wouldn’t disappear but be revealed as a treasured peculiarity that had never actually been as awful as they’d thought. Evan himself could feel the shame he’d always kept dull under Rhett and Oliver’s life and then suddenly they’d be complete. Free.

It was hard to pretend to be anything but incomplete after that, so when their massive hands began crush their heads together, none of them could tell who was ordering it.

One would expect the sound of melons cracking or gore. Something about the head just made one expect it to burst, especially now when the pressure built but didn’t seem to relieve. But then the ball of energy moved up their spines and the runes flared.

Any physical sensation was overpowered the moment their brains connected. The feeling of their spines and necks pushing into each other or the sensation of their heads forcing together, rendering their jaws inoperational and their breathing stilted.

Evan felt like he was a river between two oceans, but that wasn’t right. A river flows from one to another, yet lives flowed between him and into him. He remembered so much.

He remembered painting, months upon months of painting. Sketching and ripping and sculpting as every form of his artistic expression fell upon the idea of a third. Life drawings of men and woman all left purposefully without, sections of their body removed with the only evidence in the silhouettes of the heads, faces, arms, fingers and feet they once had. Abstract art his professors had complimented him for time and time again, although he failed to communicate that they were still incomplete. He simply didn’t have the parts of him who were so good at detailing those missing pieces at the moment.

The information tilted into the man with red hair and he felt his emotions come back to him. He hadn’t felt this way in a year, every bit of feeling back where it belonged. He knew he should’ve always felt this way and that when he hadn’t he’d been numb. Not depressed, but not all there. The part of him that hadn’t been the red-haired man at the time was left with too much feeling, overcoming him in every way. Had that part been the angry and desperate part he thought he’d been? It was a ridiculous thought now that he remembered how it was ridiculous. He remembered having felt so much and having loved himself for that exact reason. He remembered missing the clarity of feeling that way and he was relieved that he could feel it again.

Oliver was the last to remember that he wasn’t Oliver any more. Was white light the thousand of hues contained within its wavelength or was it in the end its own energy. The answer is that there was never any actual color, it was an illusion. Oliver had been Oliver up until he remembered that Oliver was an illusion. A vague identity formed up by interests, hopes and dreams that had always hoped to be shared. To connect and to be validated in every way. Laid out and dissected on a platter for the ways that its purposes were true. To form even grander arguments to the validity of its existence and being based on a mountain of new evidence. The man that was Oliver understood.

He wasn’t Oliver, nor Evan, nor Rhett. They were him, but the opposite wasn’t true. They were pieces of this man the moment they first come together and to be anything close to independent people after that was an act. It was feeling like he did now that was why he could only be himself when he had the long time it took to tear himself into pieces.

His face swam and he knew the hue it would return to, the dark auburn he could see looking down at his pubes. He could feel the roughness of his facial hair, back to having the potential of being thick as evident by the stubble across his face. He’d let it grow out one summer, now remembering how handsome he’d felt as the memories condensed. It was another reason he couldn’t imagine doing this again, feeling his life as himself scatter amongst his pieces. The three would remember bits and parts of a better existence, but the information was too divided to ever be enough.

He stroked his cock under his swim trunks and remembered just why he wasn’t overcome with masturbation all this time, all his willpower now firmly in place. It would feel better anyways with other partners now that he couldn’t possibly feel jealous of himself with other people. That was simply a ridiculous concept he realized for the 3rd time again.

He felt normal which was always a trip because his components thought he felt strong. In actuality they were just so frail that to be him felt like being a god. Being whole was a hell of a drug, but he certainly looked like a fair bit like a god now. Muscles back to a fairly sufficient degree, although he’d certainly need to work on them again. Growing incredibly scrawny in three bodies could only contribute so much muscle to the whole again, but he’d always been quick at gaining muscle.

The surf was loud and his surfboard was floating in a tidepool a bit away, the oncoming tide causing it to rock back and forth. He remembered being so pitifully cute struggling with it watching from third person and his hearts pumped in asynchrony, the only argument against him having always been just himself. The contradiction felt good oddly enough and he felt turned on by the thought of himself. It was pretty offputting being a narcissist in such a way, but jacking off in a mirror was a activity he had done too much to care about. He had a great excuse for studying his body for all the ways he was handsome and maybe he talked to himself far too much, but how couldn’t he. He’d been formed by a love for himself and who was he to deny himself that.

He flexed, feeling his body move like it should, all ducks in a row. The runes against his skin settled and just a little motion on the purposefully loose knot holding the embroidery together was enough to tighten it the symbols into meaningless nothings. His hands came back sticky of course, but it wasn’t anything the surf could fix.

The waves were perfect for a man like him, the perfect height and the perfect rhythm. They fell in gigantic spiral that he would paint later now that he could remember just how mathematically the angles combined and the paint could set. Now he would grab his surfboard easily underhand and dive into the waves, remembering just how much the feeling was incredible. He stay here till the sun set before likely airdrying (considering he’d completely ruined the towels), towing his surfboard to his jeep and pulling out the backpack full of clothes that he’d worn last summer. He’d go home and meet the eyes of the still apathetic apartment manager who’d grown used to seeing him replace the three boys she was equally apathetic to.

He'd never been able to be permanently himself and there was a league of challenges to get there. For one, a new closet fitting the style his components had grown for him over the past year. For two, a solution to combining the legal and emotional connections of three men together, although he was smart enough to probably achieve it all with magic. He’d worried about it when he hadn’t had all the pieces to know it was probably pretty simple.

He would enjoy his day here and go home to sleep back in the same singular bed. He’d wake up the next day and he’d continue waking up the next day forever as himself. It was how he was supposed to be.

Just Everett

[evolutionsvoid]

What other life dwells within these deep fluids? Let us see!

1. Spire Spine - A meal that only foolish predators would try to eat, as this fish's body is coated in Black Bile spines. At rest, they lay upon the skin, but when threatened, the fish will inflate its body with stores of the dark humor. These spines will become erect, but possess one more nasty secret. These needles are hollow, and can pump out rapidly hardening Black Bile. Thus, the fish is capable of swelling up with spines that grow much longer than one would imagine! This extra layer of crystal bile will eventually break off after the threat has passed, and the fish will have to consume more to refill its stock. A crystalline beak gives them a crushing bite, perfect for devouring hard shelled foods. Fished for its Black Bile stores and its needles are crafted into bile crystal etchers.

2. Chomper Eel - A serpentine fish with a nasty set of teeth. These enlarged jaws are used to bite down hard on prey and not let go. A modified set of inner jaws will then emerge from its throat to slowly gnaw away on trapped food. Its hooked tail may be used as a lure to draw in prey, and has also been seen picking its own teeth to remove stuck morsels. Its flesh is very chewy and rubbery, so folk mainly harvest the teeth. Fisherman are warned when handling these eels, as they can bite off fingers or latch on with a painful, inescapable, bite.

3. Spongefish - A strange fish that lack the usual array of facial organs. There are no eyes or mouth, instead the head and most of its body is covered in absorbent pores. This fish feeds entirely on ambient fluids, finding areas where the humors are most concentrated and soaking them up. Their presence is a good indicator of humors within water, though they are also found where that fact is incredibly obvious. However, they can be placed in water bodies and followed to places where humors are more prevalent. Their flesh is very squishy and spongy, the taste varying solely on what humors they have recently swelled up on. Often caught and wrung out to obtain fluids, then released back into its environment.

4. Spinous Fish - A small bony fish with a prominent crest, they always travel in groups. These schools will arrange themselves into spiraling lines, like that of a twisted spine. The ivory fin is pointed outward to help ward away predators, and their tough hide calls for a strong bite to crack through. When caught, the bone crest will typically be cut off to use for carving hooks, tools or ornaments. The body will be used as bait. Humans don't really eat them, due to very little edible meat within.

5. Peeshooter - A small fish that possesses inflated bladders and a sharp eye. Their sacs swell up with urine, which it uses as a weapon against bugs and prey outside the water. They look for food that is on branches above the surface and then spit a precise stream of urine to knock them off. This same fluid makes them nasty to predators and man alike. Rarely kept as pets and must be held in sealed tanks, lest it start taking foul shots at passerbys.

6. Octotongue - When not on the hunt, this creature looks like a fleshy sac of skin with large lips. It has no eyes, but instead senses its environment by opening its maw and releasing a tangle of tongue tendrils. These tentacles taste the environment around them, leading them to hiding prey. Food is brought to its toothy jaws and devoured, often after it has resealed its lips to prevent morsels from floating away. Spits a vile cloud of mucus when threatened and will bite if grabbed. The tongue tendrils are harvested and eaten, having a tough chewy texture and a salty flavor.

7. Flayer Shark - A large fish that lurks upon the bottom of fluid bodies, looking like ragged patch of skin. They hide in the silt and sand, waiting for prey to pass by. Their entire underside is covered in spongy red flesh and sharp hooked teeth. Smaller fish are engulfed and crushed, while larger piscines are latched onto. The shark adheres its barbed underside to their flesh and scales, then proceeds to peel off a layer. This stolen skin is their primary food source, leaving nasty wounds behind. Fisherman not careful when handling this haul may find their arms degloved by this fish's "bite."

8. Arimakki Me - One of the fevered parasites that has taken to the water. They typically travel in pairs, keeping to warm shallower waters, as they appear to fear the freezing deep. However, they are able to overcome this by seeking out a large host, typically fish that are much bigger than they. The two parasites will latch onto the eye of the host with their suction cup-like heads and then proceed to feed upon the internal jelly. The fish will be blinded from this action and over the course of days the entire eyeball will be consumed. Once the organ is gone, the parasites will use tendrils to connect to the optic nerve and link themselves to the host's brain. From that point on, they will serve as the new eyes, though they show things no normal eye would see. Hosts will slowly become infected by Feverish Sweat as time goes on, developing red rashes, swollen blisters and pale worms. These fevered fish allow these Arimakki to travel into deeper waters, as well as aid in taking down prey through their newfound crazed strength and boiling bodies. Some humans have allowed these parasites to claim their eyes (or other victims' eyes), to see what visions they behold. There are few coherent words in the maddened raving, and a whole lot of unnerving babbling.

9. Dragonfish - A creature born long ago, in an ocean that never knew Ichor. It is one of the few surviving creatures from the Age of Eitr that has barely changed during these centuries. While others have sacrificed many traits and powers to withstand the times, this fish has stayed the same. Prominent horns are used for battling rivals and spearing food and foe alike. Heavy scales make it tough to kill, and allows it to spend time outside the water on its hand-like fins. Seen as a trophy fish, its horns are crafted into powerful tridents or harpoons. The unprepared meat is toxic due to traces of Eitr, thus the fish must be thoroughly fermented and dried to become edible. Though sharing traits and title to dragons, this fish does not receive the same hate, possibly due to the fact that they can be caught as a symbolic domination of Eitr.

10. Icy Gazer - A fish of many eyes who lurks on the bottom and looks out for prey up above. They are an ambush predator who uses Tear-filled organa to weaken its prey. Fish that swim near its range of vision will find the water suddenly growing colder, making them sluggish. This fish is capable of chilling the surrounding fluids with its gaze, letting them devour prey with ease. Icy spines ward off attackers, and it can rapidly drop the temperature around it when threatened. Its flesh is sweet and salty, while its eyes possess a rich, saline flavor with a bit of coolness on the end. Live specimens are often caught and used to chill the waters that other harvested fish are kept in to keep them fresher longer.

11. Nailscratcher - A bottom dwelling fish that digs through the silt and sand for food. Finger-like appendages let them churn up the sediment and unearth prey, while a long nasal nail allows them to pry up stubborn foods and shells.Typically crawl along the bottom, though can rapidly swim with their wing-like fins if threatened. Their nasal nails are often used as sharpeners by the sea folk, who use it on their blades, harpoons and hooks. Another source of fish fingers, though these ones have a muddier flavor.

12. Bilebelly - A swollen fish with a large belly and bigger appetite. Their guts and cysts are flush with burning Yellow Bile, which they use to digest almost everything they eat. A vacuous maw lets them suck up a wide variety of prey, which is melted down into nothingness in its glowing belly. A good source of Yellow Bile on the seas, and gives a meat that has the iconic burn and bite of Bile Salts. A great enemy to the Arimakki Me, as its strong stomach allows it to slurp down and digest these parasites without issue. Fishermen have started giving any of these caught sweat bugs to the local Bilebellies, hoping to encourage them into seeing them as a viable food source.

13. Fanged Lamprey - A parasite of the deep that uses its suction cup mouth and hooked teeth to latch onto prey. They chew holes into a host and feed upon the leaking fluids, typically targeting Blood. Seen as pests that ruin catches with these ugly scars, but make for good bloody meat in pies. Since this species possesses six eyes and three prominent fangs, certain faiths treat them like marine leeches and label them a creature of Blood. Can be used for bloodletting on the high seas, though their wild nature makes this process less refined and measured then if you used trained leeches.

14. Penitent Viper - A deep abyssal fish with ties to Blue Blood. Its body is covered in glowing scars given to it by predators as well as its own spiny lure. This lure and these wounds seep Blue Blood and unleash Abyssal Lightning when the fish contracts its muscles. This energy drains and slows prey, enough for this predator to slither up and devour them. Their meat is quite gelatinous when brought to the surface, and it has a potent sting to it when eaten. Folks who consume this Blue Blood laden flesh find themselves quite sluggish and tired afterwards. As one can imagine, this fish isn't really eaten.

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

A part 2 to my Dredge inspired fish of FOI!

[asphaltsugar]

show me your teeth

gabriel van helsing x reader — 1.2k

extras: reader is a little confrontational? idk how to explain it; brief religious talk; no use of y/n; inspired by ‘teeth’ by lady gaga; definitely not canon from the movie and i took a few creative liberties but i do not care! oops; just a little treat for myself and any others with finals coming up! good luck y’all x

────────────── gif: @count-v-dracula

There was talk of a wolf.

Girls clutched skirts and locked doors, placed steel that caught weary light atop nightstands with just-lit candles. Boys stood with gaps in their teeth and stakes sharpened by an amateur and excited hand, the tips of their fingers going numb from the cold.

Everyone walked with their feet meeting the snow-kissed ground in steps barely that of a blink. Word was light, hushed; anything louder than a whisper would hide the snarl from its spit-slicked throat.

Inside the church, prayer in the minds of those kneeling with hands clasped was the sole conversation. Lips were sealed in the same manner of the fingers laced towards the point uplifting the cross to the evening sky. Blood freshly dribbled from wooden porches and lanterns creaking weakly in the wind and his steps were blatant in the snow—Van Helsing, the one who would cleanse the fear in beating hearts and panicked eyes, an answer to their worship, and a wanted one, though the town was so deep in the land word of mouth rarely reached the purity that lined the shells of their ears.

You were the only one that spoke with a volume to be heard, not guessed, and it was only to him, for his canines seemed a little too pointed, tears in his clothing too frequent in the candlelight of the hallways and gazes of saints. He said the weapons he kept at his thighs and waist were bound to snag the fabric, but wouldn’t a famed monster hunter handle such an issue to not be a worry? Killing wasn’t for those with a weak heart and thin blood, he told whoever fawned at his feet with wide eyes, and yet someone with a repertoire as grim as his would have perfected the act.

Did he think you were too naïve, maybe having been opened and toyed by those whose voices quivered at the mere mention of what lurked in the hours of the night with only the moon’s solace? Your living in the church certainly didn’t do any justice at your defense, the most holy place almost mocking your interest in those that couldn’t be described as such, leaving the implied lines of the town some nights prior and having heard his name with a threatened bark and bite.

The first time he arrived back in the early light of the morning, the oblivious demeanor of the town made itself known. You sat in front of him after having been told to offer care to his wounds, and you furrowed your brow at the fact; this was nothing. He must have had past scars deep to cracked bone, and yet they insisted you aid your guest. Scratches lined at his arms, and he had apologized at his rather taboo presence, what with his blouse bloodied and set aside from being in the way. You assured him bluntly that it was fine, justifiable; the statues looked much the same, to which he exhaled a dry laugh, agreeing with a shrug of a shoulder.

People said he needed more time. Days had passed, and he had not proclaimed the monster slain and the town safe. When he did come back to the church, you watched from sharp corners as red glass encasing restless flames—the only remaining light so late, the sun just barely coming to—pronounced the angles of his face. He brought with him a sweat, sticking and shining against his skin, dirt set into his nails, and weapons clean of blood or any struggle.

Admitting his defeat would, as ironic as it would sound, be just the thing to rid the paranoia now riddled in passerby.

There was an odd excitement in knowing you could be right, that the exact thing that was feared was invited without a second thought, though you had to confirm it. 

The moon was to be, like clockwork, a full mimic of the sun, its shape giving rise to what could not be seen in the latter’s company. He left with a nod at whoever he passed, and you sat in the room he had been so kindly offered that first day. (Of course he would come back with a mumble of defeat to whoever asked, because he would first have to announce his leave to those same folk.)

Hours passed. The heave of the door and his heavy footsteps were familiar to your ear at the time that the ornate hands gesturing to roman numerals told with gentle ticks. You quickly rushed to the window, peeking through the sliver of glass to eye the curve of moonlight that was to be set to rest—just enough for parts of him to still maintain their monstrous shape, tied to the presence of the moon like a desperation.

Muffled, his brief words of dismissal melded with the soles of his boots as he neared his room; you stood at the foot of his bed when he opened the door. His brows furrowed as he slowly took off his hat, snow melted into the brim, holding it at his chest.

His voice paired with a closing of the door. “I apologize, I did not expect you to be awake this early.” 

You crossed your arms, shrugging a shoulder with an innocent air. “Not early enough.”

A whistle of snow crawled along the exterior. “I’m not sure I follow.”

He watched your movement as you made the few steps to stand in front of him, glaring into delicate brown circling black; what did he see tonight? Anything to leave only his name behind?

“Show me your teeth.” A whisper, quick in its delivery, spitting from your mouth. It sounded similar to the prayer rushed tired in wary minds.

At the lack of a response, you continued. “What is there to hide, mister Van Helsing?” You placed a hand to the skin of his forehead before he could flinch. It came back slick, a shine left on your fingertips; you wiped it on the sleeve of his coat with disdain, not missing the dark bleeds. He merely stared with a crease still inbetween his brows.

You scoffed, grabbing the fabric in a fist, bringing him closer. It was still wet. “A man who kills what he is; this whole town unknowingly wants you dead, and yet you are still here.”

Something shone in his eyes then. Guilt, slight pride for having kept a façade—it was difficult to tell. He did not move from where you pulled him in, instead matching the disposition of your gaze.

He bit at the flesh of his lip. His hands clenched in the confines of his leather gloves. 

A knock at the door with a question of his name made his eyes dart to the engraved wood before diverting to yours once more.

They seemed a hint darker; maybe you hadn’t quite caught the color when he arrived. 

“If you are so eager, you’re welcome to join me to see for yourself.” He snarled, as if to echo what came from his throat hours prior, taking your hand clutching the blood smeared at his front in a rather delicate manner and pushing it towards yourself. 

He told whoever it was to come in; you muttered a curse under your breath, uncaring of it falling on saints’ ears; it wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before.

[dazaiosamuwifeandlover16]

Title: A Game of Fates

You awoke on cold cobblestones, the sharp chill seeping through your clothes. The air was heavy with smoke and the faint scent of damp earth. This wasn’t your room, wasn’t your time. Your head throbbed as memories of binge-watching Moriarty the Patriot swirled in your mind, an impossible connection forming between fiction and reality.

"Lost, are you?"

The voice, low and melodic, sent shivers through you. You turned your head to see him—William James Moriarty. His golden hair gleamed under the faint gaslight, crimson eyes studying you with a mixture of curiosity and calculation. He wasn’t supposed to be real, yet here he was, standing before you like a dream come alive.

"I..." You faltered, your words caught in your throat. His presence was overwhelming, magnetic.

William’s lips quirked into a soft smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Strange. You don’t seem like someone who belongs here.” He stepped closer, his polished boots silent on the cobblestones. “Your attire, your demeanor—it’s almost as though you’ve wandered in from another time.”

You swallowed hard, his perceptiveness unnerving. How could you explain the impossible truth? That you weren’t from this world, that you had fallen into a place where fiction bled into reality?

“I... suppose you could say that,” you murmured, avoiding his piercing gaze.

He tilted his head, a golden strand of hair falling into his eyes. “A curious answer. I’m sure there’s more to it.” He extended a gloved hand toward you. “Come. It’s unwise to linger here, especially for someone as out of place as you.”

Against your better judgment, you took his hand. His touch was warm, his grip firm yet gentle. As he guided you through the dimly lit streets, his voice cut through the silence.

“Tell me,” he said, glancing at you sideways. “What is your name?”

You hesitated. “Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeated, as if tasting the syllables. “A name I won’t forget.”

The two of you walked in silence for a while, your surroundings blurring as your mind raced. This was William Moriarty—the criminal mastermind whose brilliance and morality made him both a hero and a villain. You couldn’t trust him, yet the warmth in his touch and the softness in his voice made it hard to pull away.

He led you to an elegant townhouse, the interior far cozier than you’d expected. A fire crackled in the hearth, and the faint aroma of tea filled the air. He gestured for you to sit, his sharp eyes never leaving you.

“Now,” he said, settling into the chair opposite yours. “You’re an enigma, Y/N. And I find enigmas... fascinating.”

Your heart thudded painfully in your chest. “Why do you care?”

A shadow passed over his face, and for a moment, you saw something vulnerable in his gaze. “Because I’ve learned that everything happens for a reason. People don’t cross paths by chance.” He leaned forward, his voice lowering. “And you, Y/N, are no ordinary passerby.”

The intensity of his words left you breathless. You wanted to tell him the truth, to admit that you knew who he was, that you’d seen his world through a screen. But before you could speak, a loud knock echoed through the house, shattering the quiet.

William’s expression darkened. “Stay here,” he ordered softly, rising to his feet with the grace of a predator.

You watched as he disappeared into the hall, your pulse quickening. Something wasn’t right. The air was heavy with tension, as though the house itself held secrets. You felt an inexplicable pull toward a desk in the corner, a single letter lying atop it.

Curiosity got the better of you, and you picked up the letter. The seal was broken, the contents hastily scrawled. Your eyes scanned the words, and your blood ran cold.

"The stranger is a threat. Eliminate them before they become a problem."

Your hands trembled as you heard footsteps behind you. You turned to find William standing there, his expression unreadable.

“Ah,” he said smoothly, his eyes flicking to the letter in your hand. “I see you’ve found one of my little mysteries.”

“Is this about me?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He stepped closer, the air between you crackling with tension. “You’re clever,” he murmured, his voice a mix of admiration and warning. “Too clever for your own good.”

Before you could respond, he reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “But I don’t believe in wasting potential. You’ve captivated me, Y/N. Perhaps we can solve this mystery together.”

His touch was electric, his words both a promise and a threat. You were caught in his web now, and there was no escape. But a part of you didn’t want to escape.

Because if this was a game, you wanted to play it with him—no matter the cost.

[thegamingcatmom]

If mother miranda were on the hunt, say before she kidnaps takes away MC

Like, I know she has crows she can use to keep an eye on MC, but if she were to hunt MC down in person, would she be the type to openly just stand there and stare down her prey or would she lurk behind buildings peeking around the corner once she sees MC being like "yes that one, she's perfect"

I just can't get the image of miri lurking from behind a building for some reason

MC getting chills like she feels her eyes on her

I´m absolutely loving your thoughts. 😈

The mental image of Miranda peeking at you around a corner like-

…💀

LISTEN-

As much as I love that thought (and I fucking do, u have no idea), I actually don't think Miranda would ever hide her presence if someone caught her eye. At least not purposely. It's more like she doesn't really care if MC sees her, given how that girl's fate has been sealed the moment Miranda clapped eyes on her anyway, lmao.

Miranda's looking at something that's already hers, so why hide? It won't change a thing.

Besides, hiding is beneath her.

I also think she'd want MC to know, y'know? She wants her to know she's being watched, observed, guarded. She wants her to know she's taken. It's like putting a big fat stamp reading "RESERVED" on her forehead, lol.

So, no, Miranda will not hide because she's a confident woman who will not hesitate to demonstrate her claim interest in the most unhinged way she can possibly manage.

IN OTHER WORDS:

She´s flirting.

...

Meanwhile MC, who´s only just noticed her stalker admirer:

... 💀

Listen though-

If someone else is watching? Nuh-uh. Nope. Miranda´s gone SO damn fast cause like hell will she allow just any pair of eyes to feast on everything that is her. Divinity itself.

...She might also do it just to mess with MC´s head a lot bit.

MC to some passerby, finally reaching her breaking point after she´s had to endure multiple such encounters that day: "You saw that too, right?? The winged woman?? Turning into a bunch of crows?? TELL ME YOU SAW HER."

Some passerby: 💀💧

Crow!Miranda, chilling on some branch: *cackles in crow*

Oh and, btw:

"yes that one, she's perfect"

That´s still her thought process, whether she´s hiding or not, lol.

Also, one of my fav lines of her:

"And I must have her."

That´s literally what she says to Ethan when she first shows herself to him and I absolutely LOVE how deranged she sounds. 😭

.

.

.

Thanks a lot for your ask! 💋

[yuesya]

The low murmur of conversation in the background is a constant hum, the hustle and bustle of passerby a familiar sight in the lively streets during nighttime. This isn’t his first time in Sendai, although this would be the first time that–

“Suguru!”

“Finally done, Shiki?” Geto Suguru looks up from where he’s typing bullet notes for his mission report on his phone; he’ll properly write things out and submit it later once he has time. “Have you decided where you want to eat for–”

He pauses, cutting himself off in the middle of his own words. Blue eyes blink guilelessly at him in apparent confusion… but Suguru knows better than to buy that act.

He raises an eyebrow. “… Is there anything that you’d like to fill me in on, Satoru?”

Satoru –and there’s no mistaking that this is Satoru, despite the hair extensions and vaguely feminine manner of dress– pouts. “Aww, how’d you guess? I didn’t even say anything yet!”

Suguru rolls his eyes, and a surge of something that’s a mixture between fond and exasperated rises inside his chest. He can’t really explain it –outwardly, there’s not much in terms of appearance that clearly indicates when it’s Satoru and when it’s Shiki in charge of the body. Yaga-gakucho and Shoko have both been fooled by the twins like this when they’re in the mood for mischief, multiple times over the years. But somehow, he’s never had the same problem. He just… knows.

(There’s something deep in his soul that always, always recognizes who the one currently smiling and laughing beside him is. Always.)

“The bag of kikufuku hanging over your wrist,” is what Suguru responds instead, even though all three of them know that it’s a blatant lie. Neither of the twins are about to call him out on it, though, and Suguru doesn’t know whether to be happy or disappointed by the knowledge. He forcibly shoves the stray thought aside. “I don’t think Shiki would’ve given that a second glance.”

“That’s because she has no taste,” Satoru sniffs.

“No, it’s because you just have a sweet tooth,” Suguru deadpans, to which the other young man petulantly sticks out his tongue at him, before both of them laugh. “… Did you really switch out with each other just for the kikufuku?”

“Hey, kikufuku is great! I’ve been wanting to get another one of these ever since the last time I had a mission around Sendai,” Satoru shakes the bag in his hand for emphasis. “But no, it’s not just the kikufuku. It’s… well. Shiki and I played rock-paper-scissors with each other and I lost because she’s a cheater, so now I’m the one who gets to talk to you about this! Lucky me, I guess. It’s…”

… He’s rambling. Satoru is brilliant, and he has the tendency to go on tangents when explaining things –another reason why he’s not the teacher for first year students– but this doesn’t quite seem like that. If anything, Suguru would say that Satoru almost looks nervous, which can’t be right. There’s what looks to be a faint flush on his cheeks, too, but that might just be a trick of the nighttime lighting and nearby street lights.

He frowns in concern, leaning forward. “Satoru, is something wrong?”

“No! Nope, there’s nothing wrong.” Satoru takes in a deep breath. “I… there’s something we need to tell you. Suguru, we–”

At that precise moment, Suguru’s phone starts ringing.

“… Are you kidding me? Isn’t this the sort of thing that only happens in TV dramas?”

“Hang on,” Suguru says apologetically, and picks up the call. Normally, he would immediately just mute his phone and listen to whatever it was that Satoru had to say, especially since it seemed important, but this was also important. This was Suguru’s ringtone for Megumi, and Megumi was off on his first wholly unsupervised mission (“It’s just checking up on some seals! Go finish your own mission and get dinner with that white-haired idiot afterwards or something!”). In all likelihood, the boy had probably just finished his assignment and needed Suguru to go pick him up, so–

“Hello? Megumi?” Suguru raises his cell phone to his ear.

“—sensei… sawa… high school. There’s… students … --ade one–!”

Megumi’s words are garbled by static and deafening sounds of something crashing in the background, distorting his voice. But there was no hiding the panic, the plea for help, and if Suguru wasn’t mistaken–

“I need to go.” Suguru looks up into a pair of cursed blue eyes focused intently on him, and finds nothing but understanding; Megumi is as much Satoru’s and Shiki’s as he is Suguru’s own, and knowing them the two had probably deciphered more from that jumbled message than Suguru did. “Megumi is in trouble.”

Satoru nods, and holds out his hand. “Dinner can wait. I heard him mention Sugisawa Municipal High School; want a lift?”

“Please.”

Suguru reaches out and grips his hand, and the two of them immediately make for a deserted alleyway, one that’s out of eyesight. The instant Suguru follows Satoru into the shadows, his friend’s hold on him tightens, and the world around them disappears in the blink of an eye.

[colderdrafts]

More morgan and dren headcanons please! I love your writing❤️

Thank you! I'm glad you enjoy ✨Some extra stuff about the spoods below.

Dren:

Once went on an outing with his first clutch to train hunting. Lost one of them in the forest, panicked, and spent two hours looking for the lil rascal. Found her soundly sleeping back home. Kid snuck back home to nap while dad wasn't looking.

A part of him doesn't like killing, but will do so without hesitation if necessary. He doesn't exactly feel guilty, but he does spend a little longer bathing when he needs to get blood off his hands.

If his world was a little better, would probably be a librarian/teacher or something.

Sometimes climbs trees to get out of the way of any passerbys he may come across. Waits quietly and unnoticed until they've passed. He just doesn't want to deal with the stares.

When by himself, his spider-half sort of takes over. Uses this to numb himself, so he doesn't have to deal with feeling alone.

Interested in humans for obvious self-preservation reasons, but also just genuinely finds them fascinating. They're like him, just without the spider part.

Morgan:

Is actually very interested in magic, and what they can do with it. While proficient, they're slightly bummed that their current abilities don't extend much beyond emotional manipulation.

Not a big fan of swimming, but can do so if necessary.

Likes watching fire. Don't give them a reason to light one in a place that's not a campsite.

They won't show it, but they do get overwhelmed and exhausted by being constantly vigilant. Sometimes just seals themself off in an impossible-to-access-unless-you-can-scale-walls burrow for a few days to recuperate.

Is wrecked with anxiety. Unfortunately coping by turning that energy into dangerous hostility. Self-defense, and all that.

Very, very efficient persistence predator. Doesn't matter if it's a meal, an enemy or a sentry. Instant gratification is nice, but they do enjoy the long game too.

[mira--image]

Let's talk about the stone face portals in the Hidden City.

Man oh man, I have so many theories around these guys!

I mentioned in my Light in the Hidden City post that I headcanon magic in Rise to be a natural buildup of energy in the atmosphere that can be activated when it naturally reaches a peak or is channeled by a conduit. My idea for these giant pillars of stone faces has to do with that!

I think that the Hidden City is built in a location that is a wellspring of magic. The large population of Yokai contribute to this in two ways:

a) they suck up the magic passively by existing, as their bodies depend on atmospheric magic, or by using it up actively by casting spells. This creates a vacuum that draws in magic from the surrounding area like a siphon, which overcompensates and further oversaturates the area.

b) when Yokai die, the large amount of magic within them is released into the air.

This causes the magic to naturally activate as a way of maintaining equilibrium. It does this mainly by producing light, creating floating structures, and making portals, which appear as glowing cavities of light in the rock that Yokai discover and carve faces around. If the portal is small, it will serve as an eye or two in the carving, and if it is large, it will take up the entire interior of the face. Sometimes the eyes, nose and mouth are separate portals that happened to be close to each other.

Natural portals can last anywhere from a few days to hundreds of years depending on the volume of magic it captured and stored at the time of its creation. The size of the portal is usually indicative of how long it will last. It will shrink overtime as it uses up its stores of magic, then eventually wink out.

The destination of the portal is random, but almost always emerges from another rock cavity somewhere on Earth. This monkey face portal used to lead to a moist biome of some sort, but as its eyes are not glowing, it probably winked out recently.

The portals are often taken advantage of by Yokai. For example, a portal that brings water from the surface into the Hidden City can be channelled and pumped out at the Hidden City spa.

Natural portals come in three colors, and I suspect this is an extra spell layered on by Yokai to let each other know which portals are safe to go through and which are not. Green = safe, yellow = hazardous, and red = deadly. If you look closely in this (very blurry) screenshot, you'll see on either side of the frame an elephant and lion statue with yellow eyes, and a bull with red eyes.

Runes can be applied to the portal to alter its destination, conceal it, stabilise it, and more. The runes usually draw on the same reserves as the portal, so shorten the portal's lifespan depending on the strength of the rune.

In my apocalyptic future timeline, Yokai applied deliberately powerful runes to the natural portals to use up their reserves quickly and close them as a way to seal off the Hidden City from the Krang.

Finally, I wanna talk about Splinter's portal medallion!

I predict it can take him to four locations in the Hidden city. The kanji each represent a cardinal direction, so Splinter likely carved those himself as a way to keep track of where each doorway would take him. While I don't doubt that Yokai could get portal medallions that lead to any desired location, this one is probably a cheaper default medallion that leads to four platforms in the Hidden City, one of which is coincidentally near Baron Draxum's house. Judging from the open space of this location, I'd guess this platform is mainly used by large Yokai, flying Yokai, or for transporting goods.

I bet Splinter stole this medallion after escaping Draxum's lab, either from Draxum or a passerby, then later used it to get supplies in the Hidden City, where his mutation blends in.

When the medallion opens a portal, it seems to behave like an artificial version of a natural portal— requiring stone and even creating a temporary stone face. Its uncanny appearance makes it clear it isn't the same as a natural portal, though.

I hope you enjoyed this exploration! It likely won't be the last time I talk about portals, there are so many types in the Rise universe!!

[Masterpost]

[lzstrawberrycak3]

yandere shun kaidou

! Shun Kaidou (Yandere Version) —

Concept:Personality Mix:

• Still thinks he’s “The Jet-Black Wings” battling the dark forces (e.g., the “Dark Reunion”).But now, he believes his love interest is being targeted by these "evil forces."This manifests as obsessive, protective, and delusional behavior—hallmarks of a yandere.

• He sees any friend, admirer, or even passerby near his crush as potential enemies to be eliminated or “sealed.”

🖤 Yandere Traits:

• Obsession Level: 10/10. Believes his crush is the chosen one destined to rule the world by his side.

• Stalking: "I must keep an eye on you. The Dark Reunion is always watching… and so am I."

• Violent Impulses: Keeps a notebook of names (like a “kill list”) of people who “get too close.”

• Overprotective: “You were talking to that guy? He’s a spy for the Dark Reunion. I’ll handle it.”

• Magical Thinking: Might carry charms or “sealing crystals” to "protect" his crush.

• Love Confession Style: “You don’t understand… our souls were bonded in the astral plane. We’re destined to purge the darkness together. I won’t let you go.”

Sample Dialogue:

• "If I must burn this world to keep you safe from the Dark Reunion… then so be it."

• "Every time you smile at someone else, the shadows whisper. They want to take you. I won’t allow it."

• "You're mine… not because I said so, but because fate has carved it in ancient prophecy."

Design/Appearance Ideas:

• Same long-sleeved hoodie, but now it's tattered with runes he carved in (for "protection").

• Eyes slightly unhinged, maybe one glowing red—he says it’s the “Eye of Judgment.”

• Carries a handmade “weapon” or magic charm box at all times.

Will do fanfic

• to moxxie: it will not be freaky you little monkey...

[cursedbirth]

the rain slicked the streets of the french quarter, turned neon to watercolor, made ghosts of every passerby. in the narrow alley behind la lune rouge, the scent of lillies and bloodwine hung in the air. genevieve stood just outside the heavy back doors of her establishment, watching the fog roll over the street. she had known they would come. and tonight, one had. not mulder or scully. she had met the believer and the skeptic twice since they decided to pursue her and her lounge. this was the other one, not an agent but a consultant, helping the others with their cases when needed. genevieve had watched him circle la lune rouge for two nights without approaching. always a shadow across the street. always just outside the reach of her wards. until now.

'the silence of your footsteps is admirable,' she spoke before he could, voice was low and lilting, every syllable steeped in old-world elegance. 'you have come here looking for me, oui? that is either very brave, or very foolish,' genvieve turned toward him. even in the dim alley, she was striking: tall and raven-haired, her gown the color of dried roses. her eyes were impossible; lavender, luminous, a trick of the light, most thought, though she knew the truth. 'you are not agent mulder,' she added, as if that was a point in his favor. she stepped closer, the heels of her boots quiet even on the soaked pavement. she studied him the way a scholar might study a sealed tome.

'do you know what this place is, monsieur?' her smile was small, unreadable. 'or have they sent you here to guess?' a pause. the rain began again, light but steady. 'i will tell you now, i do not owe the government anything. i protect what they would dissect. i give shelter to what they would burn. if you are here to take notes, you will find your pen will run out of ink,' she tilted her head just slightly. then, with a grace that was almost an invitation, she opened the door to la lune rouge. candlelight and music spilled out like breath from a body. 'but if you are here for something else . . .' glowing eyes land on his. 'you may as well come inside,' only if he dared. @klarsynt.

[were-weenkie]

7 Seasons passed, the days grew long, they continued to meet in secrecy.

One day Jayce brought a ladder and his tools. Carefully he pulled up every iron nail that kept the window shut. From then on Viktor could open the window and greet his mother with a kiss.

On sunny days Mother Selkie would get a few hours with her son. She’d bring him gifts from the market. Sweets she’d bake with the Blacksmith’s mother. Books of poetry from far away lands. Flowers and fruits that bloomed in the garden she learned to tend.

Viktor would treasure everything his mother brought him, learning more of the town each time they spoke. He’d hide his gifts under the floorboards beneath his marriage bed, sure that his husband would never suspect to look there.

On stormy days where the ocean was too treacherous to sail the Fisherman would take joy in the extra hours he had to ravish his bride. He’d have him in their bed, the table on which they ate, the floor infront their fireplace, and the tub while the Selkie tried to bathe. Viktor refused to see his mother for days afterwards, sure that should she see the marks upon his neck from his husband’s love he’d die of shame.

Jayce was not disheartened during those days. He still made a trip to see the Selkie when his husband had left for the day. He’d slide Mother Selkie’s letters beneath the ashwood door. He’d leave shells, sea glass, and sea dollars on the windowsill. Viktor would take these tiny treasures and hold them atop his tongue, joyful to taste his ocean home once more.

When Fall came and nights grew long, Viktor felt the call of the sea once more. He’d gaze out the windows when the moon was full. Catching glimpses of a grey seal accompanied by a man on a boat, keeping watch over her should any hunters be near by. The Selkie bride cried silently as he watched her swim among the waves, longing to be the very sea foam.

One day the Fisherman received a message from an old friend two towns away. He had made a miraculous discovery from a creature of the sea and the Fisherman should come see it for it would make his dormant dream succeed.

Old ambitions ignited and his old compatriots fanning its flame, the Fisherman wrote back to his friend that he would see him in three days. He rushed to the market buying books and gifts galore.

The Fisherman presented them to his Selkie bride, kissing his forehead sweetly, “I must go visit an old friend who lives miles away. He has discovered a treasure that he believes will be the tool needed to achieve the freedom we had once dreamed. I cannot take you with me, for like me my companions are filled with greed. One look at my Selkie bride and surely they’ll want to steal.”

Viktor’s heart pounded when he heard the news. With his husband gone his mother could visit until the daylight was done. “And how long would you be gone, my Husband? How many nights will you leave my bed cold?”

“It aches my heart to leave you alone, my bride, it’ll be a fortnight that I will be gone,” Silco kissed Viktor, mistaking his pounding chest for fear. “Do not fret, for you will be safe while I am gone. I’ll bar the door with a heavy ashwood slab. I’ll nail the window shutters shut so no man can glimpse at you inside. I’ll leave you shackled to our wedding bed and take with me the key.”

Viktor held Silco tight, opening his thighs wide. “I’m grateful, sweet husband, the steps you take for my safety. I’ll count down the days as I wait for you loyally. I only have one request, if you would be so kind. Leave the widow away from the sea unblocked. It’s too high for a passerby to glimpse inside and too small for a thief to clinm through in the night. Leave it be so I might bask in the sunbeam that shines through. And read the books you have gifted me without burning candles needlessly.”

Silco agreed, seeing no harm in the simple request. “What a lucky man I am, that such a frugal wife belongs to me. Come, my love, let me take you to bed. I leave in two days time. Let me cover your body with my claim, so you might remember my touch during your lonely nights. By the time the marks fade I shall return, eager to paint you with my touch once more.”

oh shiiiit