moklebutt

[ofcourseitsafurry]

The(3)main player characters

Aka my main monster prom OC and his friends along with their drinks to help describe their personalities or aesthetics

First Sparkles Glowbright,ex-prince of Villa of Monocerotem, a very magical adept White Unicorn

Sparkles is my main monster prom oc. He's calm, collected, and goes with the flow(Yes, like Brian.)Unlike Brian, he's more energetic, he enjoys dancing, walking, and magic tricks with physical requirements. He's also much more thoughtful than most of the monsters in Spooky High, resorting to murder less, more education-focused, and less sexually interested preferring to take it slow. Sparkles, despite(hopefully)what a lot of future art shows isn't actually in Spooky Academy, his reason for being there along with his actual school is to be discussed later for his backstory.

Next is Draco Lung, the son of a Western fire dragon and an Eastern lightning dragon(also the brother of an Eastern water dragon).

Draco, short for Draconic, is a stereotypical greedy dragon, he doesn't steal damsels and force them to marry him as he finds that sexist and weird. Unlike Vera, Draco is lazy, stealing from shops, kingdoms, and even fountains for his fix of money obsession. (Hell, that last one was how he met Sparkles in the first place.)Another example of his laziness is his obsession with sleeping, likely due to the energy of being such a huge beast. While he isn't a complete jackass he's rude and just as quick to violence as several monsters threatening to fight someone if they annoy him enough.

Next up is Feng Xuang, a FENGHUANG not a PHOENIX or a VERMILION BIRD

Feng is the one I have the least plot thought out for. He likes astrology and astronomy due to the real-life monster corresponding to Celestial bodies and beings. He's obsessed with fire, not like just an arsonist, he likes playing with it, eating it, looking at it. Fenghuang mating rituals have two Fenghuangs doing a mating dance of death that combines both parents' personalities into one egg making Feng an orphan. He hates to be referred to as other similar mythical bird species. He's cheery and upbeat but a general everyman who enjoys preppy culture.

Last but not least, Mh'athra.Deity of Sacred Secrecy and darkness

Mh'athra is technically canon, but I'm giving her a non-canon design. Sparkles became a mortal contact for Mh'athra when he snuck into one of the cult headquarters on his way to Monstropolis and read a book that allowed it to come into the monster realm with his magic. Mh'athra is an asshole, she’s extremely dismissive of Zoe and her choice of becoming part of mortal kind, like the carnival mirror event, unlike the mirror event Mh'athra is actively cruel and even dead names Zoe while alternate Z'gord is dismissive but tries to talk her into rejoining her "purpose." While it's evil, it's not actively malicious, not currently into recreating the Nothingness.

[thegnomelord]

for the prompt game, if it's still open, maybe 8 with Ghost? maybe with hatefucking and at the point you're both at it's basically a routine but all of the nasty words and cruel moments are really just because you're both brutes that have trouble expressing emotions properly, and all you really want is just some kind of deeper connection with each other, but with your shitty use of words, arguing and eventual growling into into his mouth as you shove him down onto the nearest flat surface is the only way for you to get that. and perhaapps at one point, one of you, reader or ghost doesn't matter, let's something softer and more caring slip through the angry facade? ofc if you already have one for 8 or you just don't like this idea you can im really sorry and you can ignore me, no pressure and I love all your writing :')) <3

Okay anon holy shit this is GOOD! You should think of writing yourself like what I'm seeing in this prompt is good shit :D Play the game HERE

Prompt: "If this is a joke it isn't funny."

CW: NSFW, Sub Bot Ghost, Dom Top MReader, hatefucking, degradation, confessions, soft sex,

It always starts the same; Simon's roughly patting your shoulder and telling you to not cock it up, your equally harsh response for him to keep up with you, rough voices hiding the unsaid 'be careful's. Insults like 'dumbass', 'moron', 'dead weight' crackling over the radio when the other's pinned down by fire, the electric static and suppression fire muting the worry in your voice, the hint of care in Simon's tone.

And it always ends the same; harsh stares across the room while you debrief Price, casualty numbers turning into critiques of the other— you should have noticed the terrorist, Simon should have kept the sniper in mind — prickling barbs and venomed words turning into shoves and punches, leaving bruises on each other's skin instead of the kisses you want to lay down.

Soap loves comparing you to dogs, and that's what you are— animals; talking would kill you both so you end up expressing yourselves through teeth and claws. There's blood on your tongue as you push Simon onto the bed and he pulls you down with his teeth digging into your bottom lip, rough fingers pulling away clothes only to push into bruised flesh, drawing hisses and growls.

'I want you' Ghost wants to say, instead "Stop being a pussy," comes out, blunt nails dragging deep scratches down your back. 'I'm happy you're alive' "You fuck as bad as you fight." Simon tastes blood as he kisses you, both of you struggling to pin the other to the bed.

"Shut up." 'I missed you' you snarl and pin him on his front, trapping his massive arms behind his back so he has no support, his head pushed into the pillows and arse high in the air, your thigh parting his legs. You huff a laugh when you see his cock already hard, hanging uselessly between his thighs. "Slag, good for nothing but taking it up the ass." 'I care for you'.

'You're important to me' Simon swallows the blood and spit in his mouth, jerking in a half-hearted attempt to free himself. "'least ah have a use," he growls, chest stuttering for breath as you bear down even more weight on him. You push your fingers into his mouth to wet them and Simon bites down, loving you with his teeth first, the sting of pain binding you together.

"Yeah, as a cocksleeve." 'I'm sorry' You don't give him a warning, just pull your fingers from his mouth and push into his ass. It's only enough lube to not tear him, but the stretch hurts, burns, and Simon both loves and hates how this roughness makes his cock hard and heart flutter.

"That-hah-" Ghost pants into the sheets, eyes prickling with tears with how he tries to keep them open, body forced to submit to you as your fingers stretch him, fuck him, tenderly brushing against his prostate before pushing to the last knuckle, pain and pleasure burning up his spine. "-that's not true."

Pulling out your fingers you give him a sharp slap on his ass, "Sure is," You use what saliva you have on your hand to wet your cock, swirling the drool in your mouth before you spitting right on his hole for extra wetness, your sudden action making his spasming hole clench and relax reflexively. "Look at how you're clenching." You mount him, pushing your weight down on him until he can barely breathe, cock bobbing against his hole. "Acting like such a bitch!"

You ram in him to put emphasis on the word and Simon bites his tongue so hard it bleeds, resisting letting any noises out. He's never vocal in bed, no matter how hard you fuck him, how many bruises your hips leave on his ass or how many hickeys you lay on his throat, how often your balls slap against his, he never utters more than a low groan.

But he wants to; good god Simon wants to tell you how good you feel, how every brush of your cockhead against his prostate has him seeing stars, how much he loves feeling you pound into him, who bodies bound into one by such a primal connection. . . but he can't, his mouth clamps up when he tries and even if he manages to spit something out it just comes out as venom, earning him firm slaps on his ass and your weight bearing further down on him.

You spill into him, pinning him so hard beneath your weight he can barely breathe, only remembering to rub him into an orgasm when your balls are good and empty, cock plugging his hole full of your cum. Your hands are harsh, his panting ringing in your ears until his cock twitches and he cums onto the sheets beneath him, whole body shaking to hold his moans in.

You collapse onto him, just enough sense in your head to roll you two onto your sides so he isn't laying in his spend or suffocating beneath you. Uncomfortable silence rings in your ears as you pant, bile churning in your stomach; This is your usual, soon enough Simon will tell you to shove off, he'll get up, take a piss, and leave.

And this song and dance will repeat until one of you dies.

Even without sight you feel Simon open his mouth, vestiges of harsh words burning on his tongue. Maybe it's post-orgasmic bliss that makes you speak, "Hey," Your hands tighten around his middle, "Stay the night." You curl around him like a lover; something you know you're not.

He shuts his mouth so quickly you hear the 'click' of his teeth, whole body freezing because this is as new for him as it is for you. "If this is a joke," He growls, turns his head just enough for you to catch his glare. "It's not funny."

Your tongue burns with the usual words— 'Only joke here is you' — but you don't, instead a slow and low "I'm not kidding." escapes you, like something forbidden, something to keep secret lest you get divine punishment.

Simon's mind buffers like an old computer, too many thoughts stuffing his head that he can't understand a single one. This is too far removed from the usual, hummingbirds knocking on his skull as a warning. But his body relaxes while he's still thinking, a stagnant breath escaping his lungs. "Fine."

You think of saying something, but it's better not to. Instead you huddle closer to him, still connected in a carnal way but now it feels so much more. . . intimate. Your hands wander over his toros, a gentle exploration instead of a race for release, your fingers carding through his body hair down his happy trail and up again.

Simon's head tils back to give you access to his neck, your lips soft against his skin as you kiss the bruises you'd left, both of your bodies slowly moving to close the small space between you two, urged to share your warmth.

You shift your hips, only realizing you're hard again when Simon moans. Moans. "Sorry," You duck your head, hands gripping his hips to pull out but he stops you, a rough sound in his throat.

"No," Simon doesn't look at you though the blush across his face is easy to spot. "Keep going," Tilting his hips back into yours tears a moan from both of you. Your cum eases the slide in, his walls stretched and pliant, wetly sucking you in like a needy thing.

Another time you'd have laughed at how desperate he's acting, but the low moans and a little "Fuck, just like that," you earn by rolling your hips has your mind shutting off. You can't believe how vocal he's suddenly become, getting louder the slower and gentler you move your hips, your cock slowly pushing in and out of his hole.

You bury your head in his neck and blindly stroke his leaking cock, kissing the skin under your lips, your eyes closed shut as you thrust into him slowly, your tender and slow movements pulling moan after moan out of him. His hand winds back to cup the back of your neck, pulling you up just enough to give you an awkward kiss but it's sweet and raw and so desperate—

You don't notice he's cumming until his walls clamp down on you, Simon whispering "I love you," so soft and quiet under his breath that you don't hear him, too busy filling him up a second time, but your mind buzzes with warmth all the same.

You lay as you were, somehow so exhausted that even moving an inch is anathema to you. Both of you, it seems, if the way Simon's back is warm and pliant against your chest, his breathing slow and steady. Tomorrow you'll need to talk (or do your best substitution of it), but for tonight, you can hug him close and finally have an answer to what it would feel like to have him close without the sex, to just be with him. . .

[rainba]

Sweet Bunny Dreams (Yandere OC Luka x Bunny Hybrid! GN! Reader)

AN: This wasn't the original fic I had planned for Luka, but like... The Kairos stuff with the scarification + wet dream stuff, I got REALLY inspired to write this! Hope you all enjoy :3c

i specialize in men fantasizing stuff lol ⸜( *ˊᵕˋ* )⸝

TWs/Tags: NSFW 18+, cannibalism at the end, noncon/dubcon, predator/prey dynamic, slight degradation

MINORS DNI.

Word count: 925

It keeps happening.

Every night, he has the same exact dream: he’s chasing you through a dark forest, the trees twisting up into the sky and reaching impossible heights. His heart is always throbbing, the bottom of his feet are on fire, and adrenaline is pumping through his veins. His eyes are locked in on one thing, and one thing alone: you, his precious bunny darling.

In his dreams, you always look so horrified. There’s already marks on your body– perhaps some scratch marks on your arms, tears on your thighs, or bruises on your shoulders. In some of his dreams, you’re completely nude. In others, you have hardly anything on, as the rest of your clothes have been already torn to shreds. And in his dreams, there’s already blood stains on Luka’s hands.

And the blood smells so good. 

And it also tastes so, so good.

He always needs more of it. It drives him up the wall.

It doesn’t matter how fast you run, he’ll always catch you in the end. Tackling you from behind, forcing your face into the cold dirt, yanking your wrists behind your back as you scream and beg for him to let you go.

“P-please, mister fox..! I haven’t done anything to you! Please, just let me go!”

God, those words send electricity through his body. His head starts to spin by the time he reaches this part of the dream, and he figures that he’s getting dizzy because all of the blood in his head is going straight to his dick. The way you squirm and whine beneath him makes him so fucking horny.

He gets even rougher with you, growling into your sensitive bunny ears. “Maybe you shouldn’t have tempted me,” he spits out as he lifts your ass into the air and shoves your face even harder into the dirt. You scream even louder, but it only makes him laugh. Nobody can hear you. Nobody can save you.

“Keep screaming like that… I love it.”

He digs his sharp nails into your skin and yanks your hair, enjoying the way you squirm and squeal. In this part of the dream, he always rushes to unzip his black pants and pull them half-way down his thighs, then he rushes to pull his cock out of his briefs. 

“N-no, don’t put it in! Please! It’s too big!” Your words fuel his fire, a smirk grows on his face.

“If you want me to stop, make me.”

And in that moment, he shoves his entire length inside of you, not stopping until you reach the base of it. Your hole is so fucking tight, it takes his breath away. 

In this part of his dream, you moan like crazy– secretely enjoying the way he’s abusing you.

“Good little bunny,” he grits his teeth and huffs. His cock feels so good inside of you– so good that it’s borderline addicting. In his dream, he thrusts into you at ungodly speeds, the heated sounds of sex echoing through the trees. Your constant “no”s gradually turn into “please don’t stop!”

Luka then removes his hand from your hair and grabs both of your ears, pushing them together and tugging at them. “You bunnies… Your reputation for being whores, always fucking anyone that so much as looks at you… Breeding like there’s no tomorrow.” He leans down and licks your neck. “It’s your instincts– your reason for living.” He gives your ears one last jerk before moving his hands to your stomach, rubbing circles over it. He snarls, “your only purpose is to take my cock.”

Pleasure shoots through his body when he utters those words– and your body happily pushes back against him.

“You should thank me for helping you serve your purpose.”

Then in his dream, he does the impossible: he fucks you even harder, even faster. 

“Thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyou!” You spew and sputter. And as you thank him, you convulse around his length, moaning with your tongue sticking out and your eyes rolled back. It’s so delicious, so very delicious– it makes him cum on the spot. He forcefully holds you in place, making sure not a single drop is spilled, and then his animalistic instincts kick into overdrive.

He then leans over you, his jaw opened wide, and he laughs without remorse.

But his last words are never the same. 

In one previous dream, he growled, “you should’ve ran when you had the chance.”

In another one, he said: “I’ll make sure you never take anyone else’s cock ever again.”

But this time, his words are unusually soft.

“I love you.”

However, after that, everything always ends the same. He wraps his hands around your throat, his legs straddle your hips, and he forces you to stay still. He bears his fangs and buries them deep into your neck, chomping down, and ripping out a large chunk. The taste is unbelievably mouth-watering. He eats and he eats until there’s nothing left.

…And when he awakes from his dream, Luka finds himself panting and sweating, cum dripping down his thighs. It’s embarrassing, it’s infuriating. The shame he feels as he walks to the bathroom every morning is intense.

It always takes him a long time to recover from the fantasy.

Luka looks at a photo of you– a photo of you smiling so innocently. It soothes him– it brings him back down to earth. He couldn’t possibly bring himself to actually ruin you. No, he doesn’t want that at all… He would never do that to you…

…Right?

[iamthecomet]

hear me out: dew lost his gills when he transitioned to fire but his neck is still very sensitive where the gills were

You're so right and forgive me if I lose my mind about it a little.

Some Dewther "gill" fucking filth under the cut.

It's an accidental discovery. Aether reaching up to trace his fingers over those silvery scars on his neck. Still fresh. Dew, staring up at him, vulnerable--afraid to let himself be explored like this. Body feeling somewhere between home and completely new. He keeps his hands at his sides, fists clenched, nails digging cresents into his palms. It's hard to be seen like this--touched like this. He's never been good with intimacy. Aether's reverent, devoted. Eyes big and wide as he touches Dew. Feather light, barely there, over every inch of warm skin Dew will let him. Watching as Dew's skinny chest heaves with each stuttering breath. Panic mixed with arousal. Aether has him naked--unable to hide. He dips his fingers into the hollow of Dew's throat and watches as Dew's cock twitches against his thigh. Dew stays as still as he can, would do anything to keep Aether like this. Despite the strange twist of anxiety he gets from letting himself be seen, it's the way Aether looks at him that fixes it. Like he is everything. Like there is something in him worth marveling at. The first touch of Aether's fingers on his scars is like lightening through his skin. A jolt. For a minute it's like he still has gills. That same alarm bell sensitivity of fingers aren't supposed to go here. Dew lets out a whine and Aether pulls his hand back. "Sorry. I didn't--do they hurt?" "Do it again," Dew whispers. Silence hangs, Aether blinks at him, fingers uncurling. "Please?" "I don't want to hurt you."

"Doesn't hurt," Dew promises. "Please, Aeth." Aether reaches out, drags the calloused pad of his index finger over the middle scar and Dew hisses. Eyes slamming shut, cock kicking to life. Almost fully hard now, twitching between his legs as Aether pets. Dew arches, tips his head to the side to give Aether better access. "More." He'd thought he lost this. This electrical current feeling. The brutal sensitivity of his gills that never fails to turn him to goo. It was an unfortuante side-effect of a transition that he needed--that he wanted. But to have it back? He shudders as Aether adds two more fingers, petting over each silver scar. A methodic back and forth motion that makes Dew groan. His cock spits pre into his happy trail. He thinks that if Aether decided to curl his whole hand around his throat, to press the pads of his fingers to the scars on both sides, if Aether was to squeeze--just a little--Dew could cum. He can't ask for it though--doesn't know how. Words are fleeting. All he knows how to do is unclench his fists and get his hands on himself. One to cup his balls, the other to polish the sticky head of his cock. "That good?" Aether teases. He starts to pull his fingers away and Dew's eyes snap open. He shakes his head. Pulling at his cock frantically, lips falling open. "Nononono don't--you gotta--fuck, Aeth--don't stop, please don't stop." Aether grins at him, bending forward to block Dew's view of anything but him. He kisses him, sweetly, on that pouting lower lip. "Never," Aether promises. Dew doesn't realize his mistake until after he cums, painting his belly and knuckles in creamy white. And Aether doesn't stop, fingers still dragging over. He fits his hand around Dew's throat, splaying his fingers across the scars on both sides. Dew's eyes fly open, he twitches. Overstimulation rocketing through him.

"Wait--Aeth--too much--" Aether leans down to kiss his sweaty forehead, his smile turns predatory. "You told me not to stop."

[hogtiedwhorestories]

Hogtiedwhore Gets Blackmailed (Part 3)

co-writer @lockemeup

part 1

part 2

-----------

The hour was finally up. I had been there tied in a blindfolded strappado position with electrical pads and plugs in delivering shocks every time I lowered my hands. It was an hour of hell for me, but it was finally over…I hoped. Deep down though, I know they're going to leave me to suffer a while longer, and sure enough they do. About 15 minutes past the hour I hear the door swing open again. "Well well well, look at the little slut. Is that sweat dripping off your nose?" Your owner gently wipes a bead of sweat off my face, then grabs my hair and wrenches my head back.

When he does, my arms uncontrollably pull on the hook, sending more electricity through me, but I can't lift my arms enough to turn it off. I desperately try to hold my arms up high enough but i cant quite get there. I can also smell that they've been enjoying a few drinks all while I suffered in this room by myself. I'm screaming in pain, my entire body squirming and wiggling. "mmmmpphhhh! mmpphhhhhh!!!" I'm fighting as hard as I can but I can't get it to stop. I'm pleading through my screams to make it stop. The blackmailer pulls the blindfold off of me as I shriek into my thick gag from the shocks. My owner is looking down at me with a look that’s more sadistic than usual. “You want to fuck the whore’s mouth? I think we should take her from both ends for a while before storing her away for the night. Be a shame to have her dressed like a slut and not get fucked like one.”

“Fuck yeah,” the blackmailer says. “I’ve got just the gag to help out with that.” Mercifully, the electro shuts off. My owner still has your my pulled back, and my shoulders are on fire! He unwraps the tape around my mouth and pulls the panties out, while the blackmailer fishes around for another gag. I let out a huge breath of air as I spit the panties out. I'm exhausted. My chest pumping in and out. The adrenaline in my body is through the roof and with the gag out I begin to beg "Please…my arms hurt so bad. Everything hurts. Please. I'm so sorry sir. Please go easy on me!" I say with my head still ached back by my hair.

“No way we’re going easy on you slut. And for speaking without permission, we’ll add some clamps to your nipples for this next part.” My owner takes a leather a metal gag and shoves it in my mouth. Straps go around my head and buckle on tight. Then, distressingly, he ratchets the metal bit in my mouth, slowly opening my jaw against my will until it’s wide open. I groan with the metal gag shoved into my mouth. I'm trying to plead with my eyes to my owner, but I can tell its useless. There's nothing I can do. I can only accept what is happening. He then goes to the wall and grabs a set of nasty looking clamps. As he comes back to me, I feel the blackmailer quickly tying some rope into my hair, pulling my head back, then tying that off to my wrists, forcing me to keep my mouth in perfect position to be fucked. Meanwhile, my owner has pulled the latex dress down, just exposing my tits, and slowly biting the clamps onto one nipple, then the other, smirking into my pleading eyes as he does so. He knows I hate clamps. Which makes this all the more enjoyable for him.

“Alright go for it buddy, I’m gonna take her from behind.” The blackmailer comes around in front of me, unzipping his pants and pulling his thick, hard cock out right in front of me. At the same time, I feel my owner, pull the dress up to expose my ass, then roughly rips my tights open. As his cock is rammed into my open, drooling mouth, the plug in my pussy is taken out, though not the one in my ass. My reaction to the cock in my mouth is to suck, but the open gag preventing me to be able to. It doesn't matter though, as he forcefully fucks my mouth. Making me gag and drool. At the same time I feel the plug yanked out of my pussy, and my owners cock begins to penatrate me. All I can do is take the double team attack of cocks. I look up at my blackmailer, head bouncing back and forth. My tits bouncing up and down, I can feel the clamps tugging on my nipples. I'm groaning in pain, but I'm loving it at the same time. Looking up at him with my weak eyes, staring into his eyes. Feeling like such an object. I don't feel like a person but a fucktoy. Used in the only way they found a worth for me, like a dirty pathetic whore.

As they ream me from both ends, my owner smacks my ass and the blackmailer gives me some slaps in the face. After a while, a load fills my mouth, and he grabs the back of my head, ensuring that I swallow it like a good slut. He pulls out, leaving drool to spill out of my mouth as my owner grabs my hips, shudders and shoots his own seed inside me. After he pulls out, he stuffs another plug in my cunt, sealing it inside.

At long last, they release my arms, letting me stand upright. As the blood rushes back, pain and relief simultaneously flood through me. "You're on your way to earning my trust back, whore. But still a ways to go. We're going to strip you and get you ready for the evening now. Remember, you give us an ounce of trouble, and you'll have to endure full electro all night."

"Yes sir" I say back to him, direct as I can be to show him I will do as he says. The fear of the electros is enough to make me comply. I stand there naked, still recovering from the nipple clamps sting but notice the pads and plugs are still in. I don't dare question it and wait to see what happens. They set about undoing my ropes, taking out my gag, stripping off my dress, tights and boots. The clamps come off, once again setting fire to my nipples, but they leave the electro pads and plugs on and in.

My two captors begin to encase me in plastic wrap. Each arm and leg wrapped individually, then a full wrap around my whole body. I am forced to accept all the wrap being wrapped around me. I don't want to make this worse for myself. They leave my head exposed for now. Foam padding is placed between my knees and ankles, and at my elbows and wrists under the plastic. They also put a large stress ball in each of my hands and wrap those up. Already I'm barely able to move, standing upright, arms at my side and legs together. The foam is comfortable, but it also has the effect of further limiting my movement. The blackmailer gets numerous roles of black, shiny tape out, and starts encircling my body, starting at my midsection. At the same time, my owner buckles a leather muzzle on my head, and chains that up to a hook in the ceiling, holding me in place. The muzzle slips over my head, locking in a ballgag into my mouth. My eyes keep wandering down, watching my body encased more and more.

“You’re going into storage for the night, my little slut. Better get comfortable.” Once my head is secured, my owner joins in on the tape job, and before long, I'm covered from neck to ankle in the stretchy electrical tape. They did a good job of distributing the pressure evenly, so it doesn’t cut off circulation, but my limbs now feel like they’re welded to my body. As each minute goes by, I feel myself lose more and more mobility. My body being molded into just one piece. My limbs pulled tight against my body. A slight pressure all over me, like gravity pulling inwards. I try to glance up and see the chains by my head is held almost perfectly without movement. Storage over night like this?? Inside I'm panicking. I can't imagine being restricted like this overnight! I don't say anything but my eyes are pleading for this to be over. Regret coming over me for this night. The only sounds coming from is my breathing, and slight groanings coming from underneath the gag.

Startlingly, the blackmailer opens a panel in the wall across from me, and a padded platform slides out like a drawer. I notice it’s person-sized, and has metal rings lining both sides. They unhook the muzzle from the ceiling, hoist me up, carry me to the platform, and lay me down. I notice they’ve left the wires for your pads and plugs dangling out of my cocoon. The blackmailer plugs them into leads that are built into the board as my owner gathers up the rope that had been used on me not long before.

The rope is crisscrossed over me, pulled into the rings and cinched tight, until all I can move is my feet and my head. “Now, you’ll be in here until the morning, whore. If you’re lucky, you’ll be let out then, but you may spend tomorrow like this as well. All that electro may or may not randomly go off throughout the night too, but that’s up to the program. Even we don’t know when or if it will zap you, so you may not be getting much sleep.”

My owner attaches a clip to my muzzle, then hooks that to another ring at the top of the board, severely limiting my ability to even move my head. He stands over me, looking down with a smirk. Bending down, putting his face right up to mine, he says in a soft voice, “Oh one more thing. Me and him? We’ve known each other for a while. Yeah, the whole thing was a setup, you dumb cunt. The fact that you fell for it, hook line and sinker has been the best part. And means that you deserve every bit of punishment you’re going to get this weekend. Sleep tight! Or not.”

My eyes open wide. WHAT?! They know each other?! I begin to viscously stir in my restraints. Pulling desperately hard, but not able to make any progress. I'm completely sealed with no hope for escape. I feel so...used. More so then normal. Completely mind fucked and manipulated he would put me through this. After a moment of hopeless struggling, I stop and exhale. I admit my defeat. A feeling I am used to by now with him. Even after everything he puts me through, I gladly worship him and will always accept my defeat. He pushes me into the wall, and then shuts the door, sealing me in darkness, until the morning.

END

[i-hug-exploder-shanks]

Hiii!!! :3

Can I request a ficlet for O14? I really like the stories you write for them, and I have a prompt I want to see you make!!!

Anything at all just make something where Osiris is needlessly embarrassed by Saint!!! It'll be so cute!!

Oh no. Saint absolutely adores flustering Osiris so there are so many options! A cheeky surprise kiss somewhere semi-public, a cheesy pet name used in front of Ikora/the vanguard, Saint just being his golden retriever level enthusiastic self and complimenting his partner in a situation where it draws extra attention to Osiris... Hmmm. What to choose?

Osiris crossed his arms as he leaned against a wall near the edge of the arena where Saint was tossing around another titan he recognized as the young Daffyd. Watching Saint use his shield to catch the other Titan's Fist of Havoc and shut him down before bashing him in the face with the same shield did bring a small smirk to his lips. Daffyd was a good person and a talented guardian so Osiris wasn't surprised Saint had taken him under his wing, but he had a feeling he knew the real reason for the training.

"He lasted a half second longer this time but I still don't think he'd best Lord Shaxx in a 1v1." He said stepping out and Saint smiled at him while Daffyd's ghost healed his bloodied face.

"Osiris, my love! I am so glad you came! Young Daffyd here wants advice on how to woo his warlock love and I figured a practical demonstration was in order." Saint said and before Osiris could ask what that meant he was being scooped off his feet and up into Saint's arms as if he weighed nothing.

"You see, Warlocks are often on the smaller size. They like to be scooped and held, but you must be careful not to squish them too much. Hold them gentle like bord." Saint announced to the delighted younger titan whole Osiris' face burned and he started to demand to be put down.

Saint ignored him.

"If your warlock is fiesty like mine then they will not stay settled for long, you will have to move quickly to transport them to the date you have set up. If they try to float away, usually you can keep them in place better like this..." Saint shifted his now spitting and threatening partner over his shoulder with a hand firmly on his ass, void suppressing any attempts Osiris made to try to set him on fire.

A quick jog had Osiris being seated at a picnic table that had been set up with a rather romantic looking display nearby where he glared at Saint with bright golden light in his eyes promising violence the moment the titan was even a inch off his guard.

Daffyd was openly snickering at this point, clearly loving the show. "Scoop, hold gentle, transport quickly... I understand. How do you keep them from setting you on fire or striking you with a million volts of electricity after you get them to the date?" He asked grinning and brushing some of his messy hair from his face.

"Ah, you must distract them! Warlocks cannot resist a puzzle like cats cannot resist a ball of yarn. Or you can just do something like this..." Saint directed and as Osiris opened his mouth to ask just how many crayons he had eaten that morning Saint knelt down in front of him on one knee and took Osiris' hand in both of his, violet eyes peering up at him with such intensity it stole any words right out of his mouth and left his throat feeling dry.

"Where you have flown, I have chased you and where I was lost you have found me. We have danced around each other for eternities yet every moment I see you the happiness and love I feel is like the first moment I realized my feelings all over again. Not even the most devoted of your cultists could ever compare to the adoration I have for you. Osiris, Phoenix of the Dark Ages and light of my life, will you marry me?" Saint asked while Osiris' face turned more and more red and the perception of anything outside the two of them vanished.

"Saint... Did you plan this?" Osiris choked out once he remembered how to use words again but Saint wasn't put off by the deflection.

"I did. Daffyd helped. As did Ikora and the Young Wolf and your new apprentice Lenore. They are waiting to either congratulate us or comfort us depending on your answer." Saint said waiting patiently as ever and Osiris' finally gave in.

"I suppose I will do you the honor of allowing you to call yourself my husband. You did go to all this effort." He said and Saint beamed at him and gently took a strip of violet fabric from his armor and tied it around Osiris' wrist over his sunbracers in a way that felt more intimate than any ring would have.

"Thank you. For indulging me in this and for giving me a chance all those years ago." Saint told him and finally stood to gently bonk their foreheads together and then kiss him.

The kiss started getting a little heated until a throat being cleared drew Osiris back to the moment and he hid his face in Saint's shoulder in embarrassment that he had forgotten Daffyd was still standing right there.

"I'm going to go share the good news with the others! Maybe go home before trying to undress each other, but yeah... Congratulations!" He said a little awkwardly before bolting, arc energy sparking from his heels as he ran away making Osiris laugh a little.

"We aren't that bad are we?" Osiris asked but Saint scooped him up again.

"Not yet but I think I will be happy to accept his suggestion this time. We should celebrate but we can take the wine and food home with us if you want." He offered and Osiris grinned.

"I think that's wise because you're still in trouble for grabbing my ass like that." He said the flames in his eyes returning but this time with a different sort of fire.

[chapinii]

Many on Quesadilla island believe that Fitmc was very much closeted to himself and the world up until he arrived on the QSMP, but perhaps that closet wasn't quite as locked as some may presume.

With the environment of 2b2t being so rife with hatred and homophobia, a deep and meaningful relationship was always out of the question. But within its depths lay the rub, of Fit, going through the all too familiar queer experience of being very aware of his sexuality against this toxic landscape, and knowing the possibility of others out there being just like him. Others whom he could never risk reaching out to in public, but longed to all the same.

He'd heard and seen his fair share of casual to severe homophobia, as well as witnessing with some amusement how the homoerotic tension some players swear against can tear factions apart. He knows all too well the irony that comes with a land so dominated by toxic masculinity and bigotry. This is a place where a man will stare you in the eyes, caress your cheek so gently, then spit in your face in disgust before insta-killing you. Of course, the price for outing somebody in such a place is a pretty penny for sure. Being a blank slate in the land of anarchy is your strongest asset. The last thing you want to do is throw fuel onto the fire and give people even more of a reason to put your head on a spike.

And so, he kept his feelings repressed- for the most part. He'd hide a blush as he melted internally over a handshake with a particularly muscular allied base leader. He'd allow himself the luxury of a poster, of an old Hollywood western starring a (very) dashing cowboy, that he'd stick crudely on the bedroom wall of wherever he'd end up staying for a while. But perhaps, just a couple times, he'd had a few small but significant experiences: the touch of a hand on his for just a fraction too long, warm eyes from a face he can't quite remember looking him up and down, all but rendering him breathless. Split second opportunities that would make those feelings bubble up to the surface, too strong to ever truly ignore. Being a lone mercenary in a world of anarchy is all well and good, but God does it get lonely.

He and Pac like to take things slow. It's a mutual decision. Neither of them have ever truly felt the need to sit down and discuss why. Fit wouldn't like him to know what he thinks about whenever the subject drifts towards the two of them going any further with their relationship. Every time Pac makes any kind of suggestive advance, heck, even if he looks at the man for too long, his mind can't help but think back to one quiet night on 2b2t, so many years ago. Flashes of encountering a stranger, deep underground, of a clumsy, desperate kiss. Stubble on stubble, the raw smell of dirt and sweat and cigarette smoke. He remembers the thrill, the terrifying electricity of it all, until a clatter was heard in the cave behind them and the moment was gone forever. It meant everything and nothing at the same time, that chance encounter. It was the closest he'd ever came to a real connection with somebody. He didn't know what became of the other man who so urgently whispered 'run', into his ear. He could have killed Fit right there, made a point of it, and yet he didn't. The mere memory of it petrified him, but by God, did he feel alive.

All the same, he didn't dare risk anything like that again. That was until he came to the QSMP, a place where he didn't have to hide himself from others, but still he airs on the side of caution. He's afraid of getting things wrong, of throwing himself into something he can't run away from. This isn't just some random encounter with a player in 2b2t. Pac is different. Fit knows he's got a past of his own, he sees how it torments him sometimes. What if daring to make a move, even kissing him opens up old wounds for the both of them?

Fit's no longer hiding in the dark. Making things 'official' with Pac is not a once in a lifetime chance, but the longer Fit hangs around him he feels like it is. He wants to keep Pac safe just as he kept himself safe for all those years. When he finally lets himself get closer to his roommate, one wrong move and another hypothetical cave noise could sound, followed by the form of something even more terrible that could rip the two apart forever and send Fit straight back to square one.

Slow and steady wins the race. Slow and steady keeps them both safe.

But God, what he'd give to feel that thrill again.

[chaotickasugaicrows]

Some stuff for the Training Dragons AU. 

Tanjirō’s dragon Suchīmu belongs to a species called Coral Aegis dragons and it can spit both fire and water blasts. It also has the ability to create an electricity shield (since Tanjirō used modified Thunder breathing we figured this fits). The temperament of this dragon is kind and gentle yet sometimes daring and tenacious. These social dragons will stop at nothing to protect other members of their species, especially the young.

Tanjirō was decently young when he found Suchīmu wounded in the forest and decided to feed it. He had a habit of feeding random animals in the woods near his home. 

There are several different attitudes towards dragons in the Japan of this AU. Where the Kamado’s live, dragons are shown extreme respect but in the way that a typhoon is shown respect. Dragons are considered dangerous so people are afraid of their wrath and generally bow and then get the heck out of there. There is no dragon killing of any kind because they are protected by the gods. If someone dies to a dragon, that’s on them. They surely pissed it off somehow.

There is a different attitude towards dragons where Zenitsu lives. For him, dragons are a person’s other half and are raised from hatchling stage to be their companion. There is a ceremony where the hatchlings choose their person. 

Which brings me to Zenitsu’s dragon, Chuntaro, which belongs to a species called Stormterror dragons. They shoot lightning blasts which they can either generate themselves or pull from the sky, depending on the situation. Surprisingly, the lightning blast that changed Zenitsu’s hair was not the fault of his dragon. He attempted to teach his dragon how to summon lightning from the sky, climbed a tree, and promptly got electrocuted. Thus, Chuntaro the dragon, not to be confused with Chuntaro bird, is under the impression that his rider can also summon lightning like he can and can change colors.

[moodymisty]

Ahh your writing is so wonderful! I have a request for Crosshair x F!Reader for “I’m not letting you out of my sight”

Like they both have a secret crush on each other but they are at a bar and Crosshair sees someone try to hit on you and he gets sexy possessive jealous?? 🫢🤌 NSFW is ok! 😈

❀ Milestone prompts list ❀

Author's Note: Ohhhh I love me some possessive tropes... Lets get it on~ I might come back and touch this one up a bit since i'm not totallyyyy happy with the way things flow, but I really wanted to write and post some naughty Crosshair; I've been doing so much fluff

Relationships: Crosshair/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, mild instances of a stranger being a little pushy flirty, Semi-public sex, Slightly rough sex, It's crosshair so any sort of emotional communication is awful, Unprotected sex

This bar is, shady. To put it lightly.

It could be worse, but it's very clear that this is the bar to go to when one is finished with some less than savory business, or you're persona non grata everywhere else.

But as such, it's also the only bar in this dank, dreary city that'll serve clones, so it's not as if you are all swimming in options. Of course you all finally get some shore leave, and it's on this sunken heap of a planet. The whole place smells like smog; Like some of the lowest, darkest levels of Coruscant.

The rest of the Batch is all late- held up by some repairs on the Marauder that needed immediate attention and multiple sets of hands. They encouraged you to head on without them and that they'd been done quickly, and Crosshair had decided to follow you.

You might normally have told him to stay and help them, but now that you're here, a part of you is a little bit glad that he didn't stay behind. He's a nice anchor point, as otherwise you'd be totally alone in a completely new place. A bar no less, one that doesn't seem exactly used to people like you and Crosshair inside of it.

"You look like a fish outta water, girlie."

You're not against petnames and nicknames, the Batch and most people you know rarely call you by your name anyways, but you're not a fan the way this bartender says it.

You also aren't fond of the way he's acting as if Crosshair doesn't exist, though he more than lets himself be known on the barstool right next to you as you respond.

"Just waiting for some friends," You respond. He fills someone's glass full of an unfamiliar and strong smelling liquor that burns your nose, giving it to them before looking back.

"Not more clones, I hope."

Crosshair speaks up, his eyebrows raised and shoulders firmly set. You'd say he's trying to seem intimidating and unfriendly, but that would imply it wasn't working.

"A problem?" The bartender makes a nonchalant noise in his throat and continues to serve some of the more demanding, drunker customers surrounding the two of you.

"Not if you're all payin'." Even if the answer isn't as negative as you would've expected, Crosshair is still less than pleased. The man looks at you, failing to give Crosshair even more than a wayward glance as he speaks.

"Didn't think a chick looking like you would spend time with that kinda lot."

Your face curls into a bit of a grimace, even as the shout of another patron beings the bartender's attention elsewhere. But even as he's gone off you can still feel how testy Crosshair is, as if the air around him is almost electric. You glance towards the front door for what feels like the millionth time and still, no sign of the rest- so you lean in towards him and whisper.

"Crosshair, relax. Go splash some water on your face or something."

Sure this isn't the most comfortable scenario, but you could do without him snorting fire every which way. You can shove off someone being a little bit skeevy without his help.

Instead of calming down however he snaps right back at you, his lips as tight as his brow when he spits out a response.

“I’m not letting you out of my sight. I see the way everyone's looking at you."

You don't know what part to focus on; The fact that he's noticed some less than appropriate stares happening behind you that you hadn't, or that he's openly admitted to keeping such a keen eye out for you. You tuck a chunk of hair behind your ear and look around.

Part of you is a a bit hungry, but you'll probably end up just eating some of the rations back at the Marauder, at this point. Especially if the others plan on taking even longer, glancing towards the entrance with pursed lips.

"Still waitin?" He's back, and you can feel Crosshair bristle just as you stretch a thin smile and nod.

"I'm sure one of the guys 'round here could show ya a better time than this." He's smiling, and you don't know in what way he means 'better', but innuendo or not it's not a deal you're going to take him up on. Crosshair seems to agree, beginning to hiss something from between his teeth.

"How about y-" "I'm taken. No thanks."

Crosshair stops speaking, and looks over at you. The bartender shrugs. When he looks at the sniper beside you and clearly presumes you're both together, you don't correct him.

It fits with the narrative and, you wouldn't mind roleplaying Crosshair being your lover for just a moment. It's almost hard to remember when you'd first fallen for him, but you've yet to speak anything about it to a single soul.

"Shame. Worth a shot."

He seems to at least get the hint, and turns around to go about some more of his business. Your shoulders relax a bit knowing that you don't have to deal with any of that anymore, leaning back. When you look over at Crosshair however, he's looking off in no particular direction, clearly lost in thought.

"Cross?" You're one of the few people that can get away with calling him any sort of nickname, raising your eyebrows as you look at him and raise a hand to touch his shoulder. When he turns his face is firm set, and you feel your face get hotter under his stare. His eyes have always been intense, but it feels like he's almost staring into you, instead of at you. It's making your heart beat a little faster, heat going to your neck as his eyes flicker around your face thinking things you don't even have a chance at guessing.

Suddenly out of nowhere he grabs you by the wrist and tugs you off your barstool, walking in the direction to the back of the bar. When you attempt to ask him why, he doesn't answer.

There seems to be only a storage closet and a refresher back here, alongside the backdoor into presumably With one fell swoop he opens the refresher door and pushes you in, closing and locking it behind him.

"Crosshair! What are y-"

His lips press against yours before you can say anymore, feeling the small of your back press against the countertop. They feel surprisingly cool against your own, your still open eyes having barely caught the way his are squeezed shut.

You've had a thing for Crosshair for the longest time, and while there's far better ways in the galaxy to confess to someone that you don't hate them, you aren't going to look a gift kybuck in the mouth. Not when Crosshair is so impossible to read, how he really feels is usually seven layers deep.

It takes you more than a moment to get over the overwhelming sense of surprise and actually reciprocate, instead of standing frozen like a statue. You can feel the gentle ghosting of his breath across your face, the aggressiveness he'd had at the beginning of the kiss fading away to be almost lovingly gentle. His lips move slowly with yours, catching your bottom lip between his teeth for a moment before he pulls away.

"Why'd you let him assume I was your date."

It sounds like there should be another half of that sentence, but Crosshair doesn't say it.

"I thought you wouldn't mind, as long as it got him to stop talking." He keeps stepping closer in this tiny closet of a room, and so you hop up onto the countertop and part your thighs enough to let him in. It's never exactly been a secret that you've thought about this, and finally being able to indulge in him has your hands grasping his shoulders so tight he'd have to wrench them off to get away.

"I didn't think a random bartender would make you so upset. Why’d you never tell me you were jealous?" You say, before his lips quiet you again. When he pulls them away with a soft 'pop' you can't help but trail after them, more drunk off of him that any sort of liquor you could get at the bar. He's feeling the same, judging by the fact that his pupils are blown so wide you can barely see the dark brown of his eyes.

"I told you, I didn't like how he was looking at you." It's not the first time Crosshair has pulled a stunt like that, but you normally thought it was because he found any sort of flirting in his vicinity annoying. Not that he liked you that much. It's not as if you can blame yourself- as Crosshair is just that hard to read.

“I didn’t think it mattered to you that much,” You say, illuding to the fact that he’s never given you so much as a hint that he might feel some way about you. He doesn’t formally respond, but you think you might’ve barely utter something along the lines of ‘it does’ against your skin.

Body tangled with yours the way his hands clamp around your hips is like a vice, fingers slipping into the waistband of your pants and underwear. When he pulled off his glove you don't remember, but so much has happened so fast it's almost a blur. They brush along your outer lips and instantly the sensation makes you tighten around nothing, already anticipating them slipping inside of you. The way your cunt is already wet enough to soak his fingers isn't lost on him, nor is the way make a noise loud enough that you feel the need to bite your lip and try to silence it. His fingers slip between your folds and brush against your clit, thighs tightening around him as your hips twitch towards him. The sensation already feels intense, silently begging for more.

The room is tiny and stuffy, if you stretched your foot out you could probably almost brush against the opposite wall, but every sound bounces off of it and fills your ears. The soft rustling of clothing and harsh breathing, the wet sounds of his fingers thrusting in and out of your cunt pace limited by the fabric of your bottoms. Your body warms and stretches around him, wetness slick over his hands and staining the fabric of your underwear.

He only stops when your own hands start grasping at the front of your pants and impede him, trying to finagle them off. Slick hand pulling from where it'd been cupped around your pussy, he helps pull them off in one fell swoop, pants and underwear dangling by only your left ankle.

He'd not taken a piece of armor off when you had all arrived earlier, coming here in his full kit minus helmet. As such he's peeling away the only piece that offers resistance to his goal, it coming undone and falling to the floor as the fabric of his blacks gets awkwardly torn aside. Only then can you suddenly feel the heat of his cock against your thigh, heavy and hard as he pulls you close enough to the edge that he can grind it against your cunt. There's a quiet groan he lets out through his teeth while moving against you, wanting to just sink himself in you. His hot breath fans over your face, your arms tight around his neck and thighs squeezing his hips.

You're desperate- hot and wanting not in a mood to play around in some dirty dimly lit refresher, hand slipping between your bodies and almost forcing his out, guiding his cock to press against your entrance.

Fuck, you've thought about this. Far too many times. Crosshair has too but, it's only tonight that he's finally breached the awkward air that always hung between you two. When your hand returns to his shoulder he's already sinking himself in you, burying to the hilt as your body feels almost unbelievably tight and soft around him.

"You're gonna rip holes in it," Crosshair mumbles against your skin, slyly referencing the way your nails and digging into the fabric of his bodyglove in the small spaces your managed to sneak in.

You might've considered spitting some sort of demand from him, but instead you push your hips closer to his own, listening to him groan in your ear as he drives his cock deeper into you.

It's all awkward and clumsy, an unfavorable spot that's completely spur of the moment. Then again a lot of the things you end up doing with Crosshair are spur of the moment, like midnight runs for food or running off to the middle of nowhere for some quiet, so perhaps this confession is just par for the course.

He's rough and unforgiving, frantic nose pressed against your face as he deepens your kiss. His armor keeps brushing against your bare skin as he thrusts into you, rough and unyielding against your soft meat of your thighs. It's a bit uncomfortable, but any thought of him removing it involves him having to stop fucking you- stop having his hands clench your hips so tight you think he'll leave little bruises as he pulls you closer to the edge of the counter.

"Then throw it out. I'll get you a new one if I do." Slowly his lips drift to the corner of your mouth, before down your jawline to your neck before he responds.

"I'd keep it." His kisses are rough; Not rough enough to leave a mark, but you wouldn't mind if they did.

If you ever had any concern of someone noticing your absence it's long gone, skin hot to the touch in any spot it's exposed as Crosshair pulls you harder onto him. His cock keeps brushing against every soft, sensitive nerve and muscle, making you gasp and your toes curl in your boots.

It's all so much; Your stomach turning and twisting as every single thrust of his hips and brushing of his teeth on your skin fulfils and thirst you'd had for ages.

Your legs wrap around his hips ever tighter, as you cum and bite your lip enough to leave dents. Your ankles lock and have him trapped close to you, snug deeply against and inside of you so much so that he can barely move.

Maybe it's that feeling of closeness, or maybe he's just been barely holding on this whole time and your cunt clenching tight around him is what does him in, but it isn't to long later before you can feel his nails digging into the skin of your thighs, cumming inside of you with a hiss through his teeth.

The countertop feels cold against the back of your thighs, but your body is running so hot; Skin flush and nearly boiling underneath the clothing you still have on. It's all a wreck too, bunched in odd places and wrinkled. Not that it matters, in the long run.

Your legs flop limp away from him, and he leans back enough that his cock pulls out of you, as he quietly catches his breath. The insides of your thighs are slick and feel a mess, and you can feel the way his cum leaks out of you and onto the countertop.

Your legs feel like absolute mush; There's no way you'd be able to walk at the moment. Thankfully you don't need to, as your chest gently rises and falls with each caught breath.

"Warn a girl next time you're going to take her for a ride like that, yeah?" You joke, hoping to soften him up a bit. Crosshair is alway so aloof, no matter what the situation.

"You want a next time?" You glance up at him and see his softened eyebrows and tiny crook of his lips- he's clearly teasing you. It still makes you doubt for just a moment, however.

"Do you?" His face is close enough that you could tug him in for a kiss if you wanted, your hands now more gently just laying on the crook of his neck.

"Yes."

You'll stipulate that you'll be wanting a date first, but you can barter later.

Sliding off the counter with now steady legs you clean yourself and the refresher up to a presentable state and follow him out, thankfully not bumping into any unfortunate souls along the way. The worst thing imaginable, that would be.

But once you enter the main bar area again, it's not long before you notice the rest of the Batch, all standing around waiting. Echo is the first one to turn and notice you and his brother heading towards them, tilting his head.

"Where were you two?" Echo speaks up, raising his eyebrows. Instead of answering, Crosshair instead flips the question.

"Where were you? We've been waiting."

You were doing a little more than waiting it seems, having a silent conversation with Hunter as his eyes are on you. And, they look a little surprised. Any longer and he might just get keen, so you quickly invent a reason to leave them behind.

"I think me and Cross are gonna head back to the ship. We've had our fill of this place for tonight." They look about to speak up, but Hunter cuts off any objections.

"Be careful on the walk back, you two."

The two of you take your leave, the rest of the batch getting to have their night of fun while you two head back. The air outside is brisk but not enough to shiver, adjusting your clothes as the wind blows them awkwardly. Crosshair keeps exact pace with you, walking quite close- almost shoulder to shoulder.

"How long do you think they're gonna spend drinking?" You casually look up at him, swaying a little to the side while you walk and almost bumping into him.

"A while," He says, before glancing down at you with no shortage of suspicion. "Why?" You shrug.

"No reason."

[multicolour-ink]

To be honest, as disappointed as I am by it, I highly doubt Firebrand and Thunderhand will ever be in the movieverse aside from a possible reference.

I get what you are saying; but I am still holding out hope as I want it so bad!

If they can introduce obscure characters like the penguins, and Foreman Spike (a character that was in ONE game way back in the 80s - and yet still got a pretty integral role), I have confidence that the team will pull from some more stuff like this, and maybe in some way, include the hand powers.

How they go about it depends on where they take the story...but here are some ideas on how they can make it similar to the game!

spoilers for Superstar Saga

In the game, the Bros come across the Sun and Moon temples, where they meet the Sun and Moon gods who grant them the hand powers respectively (Mario Firebrand, and Luigi Thunderhand).

The game doesn't give any explanation as to why these gods just give away these powers to these two random strangers (not that I can recall at least), but they could explain it in the movie verse!

Suppose that the Bros adventure in the Beanbean Kingdom (or another place - or even just the Mushroom Kingdom again), and during the journey they come across the Sun and Moon Temples. Both the gods recognise the courage of these new heroes, and decide that they are worthy - but only after they complete a test!

Ooh here's an idea - perhaps the test that the Sun and Moon gods put them through is one where both brothers have to save the other! They are shown their worst fears (like a dreamscape or something similar), and they have to prove their courage in order to save the one they love the most. It will be a perfect scene full of emotion and angst 😁

Do with this idea as you please, my fellow Mario fans! Write your fanfics!

The explanation as to why the Bros each get their respective hand powers can be put down to the powers reflecting their inner selves (also have mentioned it here):

Fire represents for Mario that he is passionate at what he does and what he feels. The love he feels for his brother, his family, and friends burns so deep and is primary the core of his being. Of course, these emotions can give way to him being a spit-fire. When upset or determined, his fire burns and never stops until he succeeds or he's calmed down.

Lightning on the other hand is different. It's powerful, but unlike fire it momentarily shows itself and then goes away, and it only forms under certain atmospherically changes. That represents Luigi. He is often quiet, and rarely chooses to physically fight - but when he does, when the situation changes...it hits hard! Like the moment he saved Mario from Bowser's fire with the manhole cover - it's Luigi's loyalty and bravery that becomes his inner power.

- - -

Here's some more ideas they could do with the Firebrand, and Thunderhand in the movie verse:

- During some down time, after some battles, the Bros get the same idea (not even talking they just both mentally communicate) to try something new with their powers. If they can be used in battle...can they be used in other ways...?

So Mario gently cups Luigi's hands in his, and makes a small flame. It sparks up through not only his hand, but also Luigi's - and it doesn't cause his brother pain! Luigi gasps in wonder at the beauty and the warmth of this flame. After briefly meeting Mario's eyes, Luigi follows suit and creates a small spark. Both gasp and smile in excitement at this beautiful combination ❤️️💚

- Mario makes campfires very easily with his Firebrand.

- Luigi can mess with electrical equipment and entire electrical panels.

- Luigi can read the electrical impulses in people's hearts, in order to read their heart rates (he can also read/sense any electrical currents in the air).

- Mario's Firebrand in battle is mostly used for pure power.

- Luigi can use his Thunderhand for defence (electrical shields around himself and others).

[rubylarkspur22]

Hear me out Demon Slayer characters in Legend Of Spyro setting

... I like the way you think, anon!

Now, I'm gonna hold off on drawing, but I will spit out some story ideas! Mostly nonsensical rambling about some bits and pieces.

So, we have some obvious parallels. Tanjirou fits very well into the role of Spyro, as the hero of our story, and Muzan would fit quite well in the role of main antagonist and Malefor. And it only makes sense for the Hashira to be the Guardians. But what else can I come up with for this AU??

Muzan was originally only capable of wielding one element, but was very weak and sick when he was young. He gained access to more power through artificial means, which ended up leading to him developing use of Dark Elements in his thirst for power.

Yoriichi and the Kamado family are the only dragons capable of wielding more than one element, a trait passed down to the eldest son. The Kamado family was actually actively hiding in the mountains to prevent drawing the attention of Muzan and his army(who are all dragons who have been corrupted by Dark Aether, some more willingly than others).

Nezuko was initially just a fire dragon. But Muzan attacks the Kamado family to try and find the dragon in the family that can wield multiple elements. In the midst of his attack, some of his Dark Aether latched onto Nezuko. It didn't fully corrupt her, but it did affect her, giving her access to some Dark Elements.

From there, the story is a mix of LoS and KNY. Tanjirou goes on a journey to undo Nezuko's half-corruption, master his elements(having already fully mastered Fire thanks to Tanjurou!)

Oh, hey! Both protagonists get temporarily corrupted by the antagonists in their respective franchises!(Dark Spyro and Demon King Tanjirou)

Some ideas for elements some of the characters use, some more obvious than others:

Kie would be an Earth Dragon. Tell me I'm wrong. The rest of the Kamado children are either Earth like her, or got Fire from Tanjurou.

Giyuu is a Water Dragon, as are Urokodaki, Sabito, and Makomo.

Obanai is either a Water Dragon or a Poison Dragon(because snake venom).

Shinobu is also one of those. And she's also tiny, so she will go for your kneecaps and ankles.

The Rengoku family are all Fire Dragons, obviously.

Zenitsu, Kaigaku, and Kuwajima are Electricity Dragons, Kuwajima being a former Guardian and the boys being slotted to be his successors. Zenitsu only knows one attack(I'm thinking it's the Electricity Primary from The Eternal Night; the ball of electricity you can launch and then proceed to set off), but he's damn good at using it. Kaigaku, of course, went the corruption route. Dick.

Gyomei is Earth.

Sanemi is Wind. And Genya is either an Earth Dragon, or he has no element. A rare case, but I assume to not be impossible.

Nezuko's extra elements are Earth(from Kie), and I'm thinking Fear.

I'm not sure what Michikatsu's natural element would be, but Kokushibo also has Fear and Shadow at his disposal after being corrupted. As well as a little Dark Aether, to compete with Yoriichi in the great one-sided dick-measuring contest.

Douma is an Ice Dragon.

Inosuke is either an Earth Dragon or a Wind Dragon. I have no clue which I prefer. Either way, feral tactical assault dragon. He's the one raised by another creature entirely.

Akaza is originally Earth. Not sure what Dark Element he wields.

Hantengu uses Wind(natural element), as well as Electricity, Fear, and Earth

Gyokko uses Water and Poison

Gyutaro is a Poison Dragon, and possibly was one from birth. Ume's element(s) are undecided.

All others, I do not know for sure, but would love to hear some ideas!

[beezonia]

Guess who’s slowly getting into genshin again and stuck in idol au brainrot

So you get this

———

Sooo

La Signora, Childe and Scaramouche (now known as Kuni a solo artist) were like triple H and had a good 3 year run before they disbanded because of a very bad scandal between childe/Scaramouche and their company sort of going bust

La signora was the main vocal and centre

Childe was the visual and lead vocal

Scaramouche was main rapper and the leader

—

La Signora is now a popular soloist (think hyo or taeyeon) under the name Rosalyn

Her company is called Harbinger‘co and her manager is Pantalone

Childe is obviously with DCKZ and is hoping to make his first solo album soon working with some other idols (cough Lumine cough)

Now Kuni in my version is a solo artist under a unknown company named Riverbend because he wanted a fresh start

But he obviously got very popular not only because of his past but because of his singing voice because oh boi his voice is just as good as his raps

And yeah his career as a soloist shot up from there and he is also working on a full album

—-

Now Yunjin is another soloist (think kwon eunbi because glitch is definitely one of yunjin’s songs)

She was an opera singer and trained most of her teen years on her voice and dance.

She was in a gg with Barbara and Xinyan for an experiment trying to merge idols from different companies, they were pretty popular but then Xinyan announced she was leaving the group due to personal reasons and the other two got split (Barbara had her growing popularity and yunjin wanted to work on her own projects)

They still keep in touch (they are besties) and rumour has it they may or may not be having a reunion concert soon.

Yunjin likes to mix classical music with her samples and then her manager will bop their head along with the beats.

She really wants to work with Ayaka due to their sounds being so similar but so different at the same time and their concepts are very similar.

They both have a sort of princess vibe and are the pride and joy of their company.

Yunjin is working on a mini album trying to figure out a new but familiar sound for her fans, she’s hoping to collaborate with xinyan for this and also a member of a small trio named Mona who is more of a classic/hyperpop producer.

——-

Mona, Fischl and Kuki are a trio named Amethyst Dreams (probably will change)

They are a mix of hyperpop and rock music with a dash of that girl crush vibe

Mona is their producer she works her ass of for her two friends and their success because they are from a very small company.

She’s also the main vocalist along with the centre/visual she can play the violin

Fischl loves the hyperpop concept the group has along with the little bits of rock they try to add cause of the sort of gothic concept of the group

She’s the lead vocal and the maknae of the group who plays the electric guitar and the sax for some reason (kuki has tried to get her to do a solo for their upcoming album)

Kuki is a punk rock fan, she plays drums and has a killer voice also her raps slap so hard that people have taken to call her the rap goddess (think Youngji)

Like she spits fire and on variety shows she is not afraid to diss the hosts

Main rapper and also centre (her and Mona share the role)

They are coming out with their first full album soon

——

Nilou is still a sort of trainee but is probably gonna debut with a new group with Layla and Candace maybe faruzan idk

They are called Lotus Paradise or Waves of harmony (probably gonna change)

They are a girl crush sort of group but do experiment with the concepts

Nilou is the lead dancer and centre

Layla is lead vocalist and maknae (I think not sure about that yet)

Candace is lead rapper and leader of the group

They have a very large fanbase fro a group who hasn’t debuted yet due to Nilou/Candace and them being popular in past survival show and gaining fans from that

Their first mini album has like an oasis theme and some of the songs are about their struggles trying to debut hence the theme of oasis

Candace is also a producer but not many know about that

—-

That’s pretty much all I have for now! Lmk if you want anymore of my ideas!

[ihavenoideawhatthisblogis]

Untitled #4

word count 2.2k

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

I frown when I open the front door of my house, and I see him standing right there.

"So this is where you live," Changbin says, stepping in and looking around. "It's a nice place." I frown deeper. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" I ask, trying to block his way in. He looks at me up and down, just like he did yesterday, and electricity runs through my entire body, making me feel dizzy and not upset like I should.

"Those are your pajamas?" He quirks an eyebrow and smirks. His sight gets lost on my barely-covered thighs.

"Nothing you didn't see that disastrous day that it was yesterday," I roll my eyes and try to play it cool. "That didn't answer my question, tho."

He sighs, looking up at me, still keeping some kind of lust in his eyes. 

"Well, I didn't mean for things to turn out the way they did. I just wanted to push some buttons and have fun, but now neither Minho nor Hyunjin want to work with you."

I scoff because I met with Hyunjin last night when everyone went to bed. He was actually a bit relieved because his little act against me put Changbin at ease. He no longer believed they would betray him.

"Shit luck, I guess," I say, shrugging. "You should've thought about it." I try to move to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. But he stops in my tracks.

"You heard those little shits. They will fight us. We gotta keep working together." I roll my eyes. "Besides, I need to release some stress too." He smirks, absently brushing his dick through his pants.

"Fuck off," I snarl, getting a little too close to his face. "Do you really think I'll fuck you again after the stupid number you put up? You're delusional." He smiles like I've just complimented him.

"Baby, no matter how much you hate me, you can't deny how good it was. Besides," he licks his lips, smiling. Like keeping a straight face is a fucking challenge. "I meant what I said. You drive me crazy with all those little clothes you wear. That pajama included." He says, looking at my legs with an intensity that sets a fire in my lower stomach.

"Chris loves it too," I say, before thinking. Wanting a reaction from him. 

"Chris," He says mocking me, but still looking a bit mortified. "He's no match to me, and you know it," he states, coming closer to me. I step back, but I find myself cornered against the little table we keep next to the door. "You haven't stopped thinking about it either."

"You disgust me," I spit, knowing deep down, that it isn't entirely true. I hate that he's got this effect on me. I despise him. He set me up. He used me. He's done unforgivable things. Why do I still want him this bad?

"Bet you anything you're already wet," he whispers, and I hate that he's right. Have I lost my mind? What the fuck is wrong with me? "Stop thinking about it," he said softly against my ear. One of his legs is between mine. His hands grabbing the hem of my shirt. "We don't have to mix things up. You can still hate me and hold me accountable for all the things I've done. We can be on enemies' sides and be complete opposites. Hell, that would only make it better." He giggles softly, touching my core over my already-wet-panties, and we both moan quietly.

"You've- fuck, you've surely thought a lot about this," I stutter.

"I told you I'm always thinking about you," he hums, in agreement, kissing my neck. "Come on," he says as he grabs my ass with his free hand, "Take me to your room. We don't want them to surprise us fucking each other's brains out next to the door, do we?" he laughs softly but freezes when he feels me clenching. I'm officially out of my mind. "Do you want them to?" he asks in a surprised tone, he wants to show off as smug, and I clench again. He scoffs. 

"Be my fucking guest, then" he groans, putting my back right against the door.

 _________________________________________________________________________

Thankfully, Changbin is long gone by the time Chan and Jisung get home.

"Wow, you're glowing!" Jisung comments, greeting me with a forehead kiss.

I roll my eyes, but I feel guilt climbing through my neck.

"How was it?" I ask, changing the topic.

"Easier, since Changbin wasn't there, " I nod with my head and Jisung frowns. "Did you know?"

"What?" I ask.

"That Changbin wasn't there."

"No, what?" I frown a bit, too. "Why would I know that?" I scratch the back of my head. Nervous.

"Oh, sorry, you nodded, and I just thought..." he trails off, "anyways, we were able to talk to your brothers privately and we discussed a way to take him down."

"Don't call them that," says Chan annoyed, coming closer to me, to kiss my cheek. "How was your day here by yourself?" He puts some strands of hair behind my ear. Jisung clears his throat.

"It was alright," I gulp. Moving away from him. I might be paranoid, but I can still feel Changbin's smell on me. "You guys hungry?"

"Yes!" they cry out at the same time.

While we eat and get ready to go training with our guys, they tell me all about the strategy they discussed, and I feel some sort of discomfort in my chest that I can't shake off.

__________________________________________________________________________

"You okay?" Chan asks once I get out of the bathroom after a long shower. Truly I was just trying to wash Changbin's smell away. 

Chan's sitting on the edge of my bed. Only one button keeps his shirt from showing his entire chest and abs, and he looks incredible. I gulp.

"Yeah, why?" 

"Dunno," He shrugs, "you've been so absent all afternoon. I thought something was wrong, and I wanted to know so maybe I could help?" he offers a smile, and I smile back.

"It's okay, just many things have happened, and I'm a bit stressed," I lie, reaching his hand to reassure him. He grabs my hand, and I can almost see the engine in his head going full speed before he stands up in front of me.

"Maybe I can help you out..." he whispers, grabbing me by the waist, pulling me closer to him. So close I can almost feel him through his clothes. I tense up. I clear my throat. I want to disappear because what am I going to tell him now? He laughs a bit, and he looks a bit shy. He moves back a little.

"I'm sorry, was I too direct?" he asks, his cheeks and ears going a bright red.

"No, I just.." I laugh, embarrassed, "I'm just a bit tired today, Channie, I um..." I clear my throat again, trying to come up with something else. "I just need to get some sleep."

Chan looks a bit disappointed but he covers it up quickly, smiling.

"Yeah, no it's okay." He says, walking back, away from me. "I get it. It has been a long day." He leaves my room, closing the door a bit strongly after him.

I let myself fall into my bed and feel like shit. Jisung said this would happen. I just didn't expect it to happen so soon.

__________________________________________________________________________

A couple of weeks fly by, with all the training, and Changbin, the truces, the fighting, and Changbin, all the sneaking around, the strategics, and Changbin.

I feel exhausted.

We've become so shameless, that I've been spending most of the nights at his place. There's something oddly comforting in it. I haven't slept that well in so long, I can't bring myself to leave his place after recovering from my highs.

I'm the first one to wake up every day though, finding myself tangled in his arms and sheets. I go home and wash up for hours before I even muster the guts to look Chan and Han in the eyes.

There's something so intoxicating in his smell, his skin, his kisses, and I get lost in them.

But when I get home, I can't stop thinking about him murdering my mother.

__________________________________________________________________________

He's not amused to see me, but at least he came.

"You know I could be doing other things right now," Minho comments, implying his plans with Jisung, waiting for me to laugh maybe, but I just sit there and look disgusted. "What happened? I thought Hyunjin was your ally, not me."

"Well, that was before I found out you were fucking my best friend. I don't mean to pry, but honestly, what are your intentions? Cause I swear to god if you hurt him..." I trail off because I can't even imagine Jisung getting hurt, without me turning into an assassin. 

"Do you want me to get in detail, or...?" He smirks, but I'm not amused. He sighs and tries again. "We're just fucking. Do I really have to have any other type of intentions with him?" 

I haven't talked to Ji about his feelings or thoughts about it, so I really shouldn't screw anything up by saying things I'm not supposed to. Things like how he's not the type to just fuck around. His heart is too pure for that.

"Just don't hurt him, or I won't care about this stupid truce. I will fucking murder you."

"You don't care that we're family?" He pretends to look hurt. But I just give him a look. "No one cares about the truce anyways..." he scoffs, but I can see he knows I mean what I'm saying. "I do care about him, somehow. He just...gets to you, you know?"

I nod. Oh boy, I know.

"You didn't call me here in the middle of the night to threaten me, did you?" He abruptly changes the topic.

"I mean, you could use a heads up before you fuck things up, but it's true. I wanted to talk about something else. I'm starting to think Hyunjin isn't completely honest with me." I state, and he frowns, genuinely taken aback. "He's just been off lately, and I don't know if something's happened or he just doesn't want to keep on sneaking."

Minho just raises his eyebrows and huffs air before speaking.

"Well, he has been off, but I just assumed it was because he was 'double agent' mood, but if you feel him off, then maybe something is going on..." 

"Can you find out?" I ask, and he laughs.

"You want me to go 'double agent' too?"

"You're already doing that with Jisung." I shrug, and he rolls his eyes.

"Fine."

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

On my way back to my place, I hear steps behind me, so I turn around, aiming my rifle everywhere, trying to find whoever's been following me.

I hear some sounds coming from the trash cans on my right, and then the same brown-haired guy who came to give us his leaders' envelope with information comes out. He's got his arms up in the air.

"You know that you have to be more sneaky than that if you want to follow someone, right?" I say, never pulling my gun down.

"I wanted you to know I was here. I need to talk to you," he says calmly. His gun is hanging on his shoulder, lying on his back, but there's something weird, so I keep mine where it is. "Fine, you don't have to put it down, then. Listen, your sneaking around put your leader in great danger, even if you think you're doing it to protect him."

"Why are you giving me tips on my job if you want to take us down?" I scoff, rolling my eyes.

"We're not like you, we said so, but it's clear that you think we're playing around," he huffs, "but anyways, leader Jeongin wants to get a word with Han Jisung. I'm just checking if it's safe, which is why I care if you do your job correctly."

"Everything I do, I do it to protect Han," I say honestly. "I'm not perfect, but I mean well." He nods.

"Seo Changbin didn't kill your mother." He says out of nowhere, looking me in the eyes.

"What?" I barely hear myself. Air leaving my lungs like I was just punched.

"He's covering someone else. I'm still trying to get that information, but I know he wasn't the one." He assures me.

"How? Why are you telling me this now? Who the fuck even are you?" I fall to my knees. My eyes losing focus.

"Ballistics." He shrugs like it's so simple. Like all my life decisions suddenly make no sense anymore. "He's never used that type of gun before, it's a pretty unique gun, but we haven't got a hold of it. We just know he's covering someone."

"Why?"

"It's what we're trying to figure out."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I thought it might help you get your anger out of the way and work towards a geniunely positive truce between both groups."

"Why?" 

It seems like all coherent thought has left my brain.

"We just want the best for everyone," he shrugs again. His composture is admirable. "If you don't believe me, you can check it yourself." He says handing me a folder, and turning around, walking away from me.

"Oh, my name is Kim Seungmin, by the way. I'll be in touch."

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| 15. Overstimulation ||

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

Matt Murdock x Frank Castle

Warnings: masturbation.

Author's note: this one is very much inspired by @briefcasejuice , and I really flippin enjoyed myself writing it 😁

"What's the matter, Devil boy?" Frank growls right in his ear, voice grinding as hard as his thick thigh between Matt's legs, right up against his crotch.

"Too much for ya, huh? Too real?"

Matt tries to disguise his moan as one of pain but he's only fooling himself, nevermind anyone else. The two of them had kicked each other's asses up and down his rooftop for what seemed like hours, trading punches, kicks, and headbutts like they were all just innocent flirting touches before they had ended up here. Matt pinned up against the bricks of the staircase wall, heaving and breathless, trapped under Frank's imposing solid frame. His head is spinning, and not just because of probable concussion from all the hits he'd taken (damn Frank was strong…). No, his body is vibrating, brimming with peaked adrenaline from the fight, all of his nerve endings dancing, electric and alight. But there's too much information, too much stimulation coming in from all of his senses. He can't pick it apart, doesn't know what it means.

"Fuckin' knew it…"

Frank is all he can feel. His skin itches like there's hot needles stuck all over him but at every point of contact Frank's body is making with his, it's blazing white hot pokers shoved in, burning and branding him.

"You like that, huh?"

Frank is all he can smell. His distinctive odour of gun oil, blood, dirt, and the underlying scent of cheap drugstore body wash impregnates his clothes, fills his head. He's repulsed by it, or maybe he’s attracted to it… he doesn't even know anymore.

"God, I'd love to be there when you tell your priest ‘bout this one…"

Frank is all he can hear. Oh fuck, wasn't that just the cherry on top. That gruff drawl spitting and snarling at him, telling him he was no better than he was, mocking him, teasing him. Altar boy. Doc. Red.

In the haze of all this Matt realised he'd never call him by his actual name, maybe he couldn't, maybe that would make it too real for him.

"Still with me, pretty boy?"

Matt's head snaps up at the sudden clarity of the rough question, his own voice as he answers distant and almost unrecognisable to him as he tries to parse it out from the overwhelming white noise of his other senses.

"Yeah, yeah…"

And then there’s the taste of him. Both of their flavours fresh on his bloodied lips. That was how it all started. Frank had him held up against the wall, right in his space, so close that his harsh breath warmed Matt's face against the December chill. So close that all he had to do was tilt his head up and…

"Fuck Red, how d'ya even piss in this thing…"

Matt came back to his senses, or tried to. Grasping around in the dark for some sense of- God, this was too much, not enough… no definitely too much. What was even happening? He's panting hard. His cock aches. Oh fuck. When he tries to move it just gets worse, the sensation flowing like a sine wave, sharp then dull then sharp again. Fuck, he's burning up. Are his legs shaking? Is he even standing? He can't tell, his sensory processing is a complete white out, his 'world on fire' is an inferno.

His head lolls back, something scratches rough at his neck. He moans. He can taste salt water, was he crying? Oh god his cock hurts. He reaches down to touch it but he's already holding it. No, it's not his hand. It's bigger, it’s moving. He tries to focus but there's too much damn feeling. It's gripping him, winding him around and coiling every atom of him up so densely he'll implode. The devil in him is silent, laying and lounging at the back of his brain and watching all this unfold, grinning like a fucking idiot.

"You want more?"

He finds himself nodding, moaning, crying. He can't control it, he’s never the one in control here. Warmth explodes through him, pulsing and throbbing through his veins. His mouth is so dry, his throat rough as sandpaper from his harsh vocalisations, but he manages to croak out a prayer to whoever will listen.

"Oh god…"

The feel of Frank's fist around him sharpens, all of those scents, those tastes and touches flickering into super fucking 4K high definition as he finally understands what's happening.

He comes unashamedly at the touch of his… lover? Is that what this is? Either way he finally lets himself feel it all, his torrid release dripping, flowing warm over the other man's cock and fingers as they slow their movements, merging and mixing with his own.

Frank leans his forehead against his.

"Nah, s'just me."

[narcissisticmf]

phoenix | avengers x fem!reader

part i (?)

description: kidnapped by thanos, y/n must keep herself alive while the avengers attempt to save her.

trigger warnings: spoilers from avengers infinity war/endgame, graphic violence, mentions of sexual assault, blood, mentions of trauma, mentions of anxiety, etc. read at your own risk.

word count: 1.1k

The metal chains clung to your body, pressing tightly against your bones. You could barely take in any breaths without feeling a sharp amount of pain. Grunting under your breath, you used all your might to try and break free from the indestructible metal. It was useless, you would only use up the strength you could be saving for later, if you lived that long.

Footsteps were heard from the distance, causing your head to lift up and the warmth of your eyes watched as an alien-like creature walked forth. You flickered your gaze down at the ground, no desire to have a close sighting of him.

"You will tell us where the Avengers are, mortal," Ebony Maw spoke with a nasally tone, making you physically cringe.

Spitting out some of the blood that remained in your mouth, from prior torture, you looked up to the creature and clenched your jaw, "I already told you, I don't know."

"Sure you did, but we both know that's not true," Maw took his lanky legs and begun to walk towards the small panel of buttons to the side of where you had been chained up.

You swallowed thickly, not allowing yourself to give any information you had of your friends whereabouts. You'd push yourself to survive long enough until they found you. Your body jolted when electricity ran through your veins, burning the exposed flesh of your skin. You cried out with all your might, the veins of your neck protruded from beneath your skin as you cried out in agony.

When the pain stopped, you released heavy breaths and let your head hand low. Your nostrils flared as you glanced up at Maw who had a smirk to his thin lips. "You can torture me and beat me all you want, but I will never tell you anything," Your mouth dripped of thick red matter, falling against your chin and onto the ground. "And you won't kill me, not yet. You think you can still beat it outta me, don't you?" You spoke aggressively, letting more blood fall from your mouth and arms.

Maw stared at you blankly, no emotion crossed him. "You won't get a thing from me, you pathetic fool," You choked out before he pressed one of the buttons again, sending harsh electric jolts to your body. You cried out loudly, not holding any of the noise back. Screaming as loud as you could only made the physical pain hurt less.

Your wrists wiggled beneath the harsh, rusted metal, trying to free yourself, but it did no good. The jolts came to a stop and Maw took his lanky legs and walked around the panel towards you. You spit blood at his feet and looked up to him.

"Sadist," You mumbled under your tone as you attempted to catch up with your breath.

.

If Thanos retrieved all six infinity stones, the world along with billions of other plantes would be demolished. Thanos only had two, so far at least. You were still tied up, covered in burns, scars, blood and broken bones. You ached tremendously, feeling your inner body curdle at the slightest bit of movement. You gave up on trying to escape, due to the endless amount of pain you felt throughout your body.

Breathing with your head hung low, you felt your chest rise and fall with agility. You begun to lift your head when you noticed one of the creatures flying the plane was knocked unconscious, against the floor. You furrowed your brow and turned to notice Maw was hurrying back towards you, seeming suspicious of the subtle bang.

"What was that? Was it you?" Maw looked at you with viciousness. You blinked slowly and noticed behind him was Tony. You furrowed your brow again and looked back to Maw who was more angry than before.

"No, but it will be," You offered a weak smirk and noticed how Maw's expression grew confused. Tony fired a rocket from his suit's shoulder against the side of the ship, piercing a hole in it. The gravity from outside the ship began to suck everything out. Ebony Maw was flown out of the ship and into the outerspace, freezing as soon as cone in contact with the atmosphere.

You tried to keep yourself steady, but you slid down and were almost pulled out along with him. Peter then came out from behind Tony and grabbed a hold of you with sticky webbing from his palm.

"I got you!" Peter shouted and gripped onto a piece of the ship, making sure to keep you from falling out. Tony took the opportunity to spray nanites upon the breakage, plugging the hole.

When the suction ceased, you and Peter both fell against the ground, grunting in more agony you tried to push yourself up, but failed in doing so.

"Take it easy, Y/N, I gotcha," Tony knelt down and tapped the side of his helmet, removing it as though it dissolved into thin air. You laid against your back and watched as Tony cut the metal with a lazer from his palm. The chains broke and you were now free of them. You released a weak breath and thanked Tony, gently sitting up against the ground.

"Thanks, too, kid," You nodded towards Peter as he stood up, dusting off his knees.

Peter nodded softly, offering a thin smile as he walked towards you. "I'm Peter by the way, Peter Parker. I don't think we've officially met," He awkwardly held out a hand for you.

"Y/N," You grinned weakly and took his hand in your own as he helped you up off the ground. Tony stood up as well.

"We gotta get back to Earth, Tony. Thanos is looking for all six stone. We could protect them there," You breathed out softly, clutching your stomach as you felt your bones aching through your skin.

"We are not doing anything right now, you need to lay down and rest. Your bones are fractured, Y/N," Tony spoke sternly.

"I'm fine," You replied blankly.

"You're bleeding out pretty bad though," Peter mentioned with a soft whisper.

"I said I'm fine," You repeated with the same tone. You looked to Tony with dilated pupils, "Turn the ship around. We have to get back to Earth."

.

a/n: hi angels!! so i just watched endgame tonight and i cried like a baby for about a half an hour so i got some sort of inspiration to write something based off infinity war and endgame. if you guys want this to be a series, please let me know! i'd love to continue this and explore more things with it! i love you all so much!! mwaah! goodnight and be safe. treat people with kindness, my dears. — angelina.

[aster-art-disaster]

Food Preference 1/7

AKA: Two siblings growing up with each other also involves lowkey judging each other’s food decisions.

Bits of time in the twins lives from the past and now, from there and then.

----

Did the first part. Haha. I’m cross-posting this on Ao3.

| B | CH2 | CH3 |

Read on Ao3 here. 

Blankshippers DNI

1. Berries and Cheese

Age 9

It started with grilled cheese.

Emmet and Ingo were officially allowed to cook by themselves. Their parents started teaching them the basics when they were five.

From how to learn how to use a knife to at least basic meal prep at home and lunches for school. 

Most of the food was simple, but they were starting to memorize enough to be able to start playing it by ear while keeping it well rounded sometimes.

Soon they will be able to learn how to handle meal prep when they go on their Journey.

Ingo and Emmet were still on the fence on whether they should travel together or separately.

They knew that they still had a year, but time had flown by with their last year at trainer school upon them.

Emmet wandered into the kitchen one weekend. He could smell someone using the stove in the middle of the day.

He had to go pick up some cheri berries to take with him for their training trip. He remembers to also pack some rawst berries as well for Ingo and Litwick.

Emmet finds Ingo making a grilled cheese sandwich. The mayonnaise bottle and pack of shredded cheese was still out with his brother focused on the pan.

Ingo notices him from the corner of his eye. He puts the now cooked sandwich on a plate and cuts it from corner to corner. As he does so, he turns to face in his direction.

“Ah, Emmet,” he starts, “Do you want a sandwich before we head out? I have informed Mama that we will be back before dinner.”

Emmet nodded before moving towards the fridge. He reaches where the package of cheri berries were placed. Picking up the container, he noticed there were fewer than he remembered.

It had been two days since he last checked. Their mama likes the spiciness sometimes.

Emmet only eats it because it was recommended when dealing with electric types. It's verrry spicy. He is only able to eat a couple.

He grabs two plastic bags to put the cheri and rawst berries in. He washes the fruit before putting it in the bags, and walks over to his brother, popping a rawst berry in his mouth.

Ingo prepares another sandwich on the pan. The soft sizzle of the bread and bits of cheese that hit the metal enters the kitchen once more. Emmet places the berries down on the counter and grabs a napkin.

He swipes a half of his brother’s sandwich and bites down on it. Ingo turns to him in shock, quickly grabbing the sandwich half away from him.

He chews in confusion, the texture feels only a little off. They don’t usually mind sharing unless it is their favorite food. Why-

Burning.

Why was the sandwich burning? It should be just warm by now, not like an unexpected fire in his mouth.

Emmet runs to the trash to spit it out, the sudden heat still burning. He turned to his brother who had moved to hand a cup of water to him.

Ingo’s frown is apologetic as he gulps down the water.

Emmet finishes his drink and hands the cup back to his sibling. He suddenly moves past him, towards the sandwich half he bit to get a closer look.

The cheese in the middle was stained red.

As Emmet peels back the bread, he sees the cheese broken up with red bits and hot sauce? Where those bits of cheri berries?

He squints at his embarrassed brother.

“I’m sorry, Emmet. I didn’t do safety checks to avoid this. I hadn’t thought that we would be sharing both sandwiches when I had made it.” Ingo admits, pulling at the hem of his black shirt.

Emmet sighs and pats his arm. It was a bit his fault too. He gestures at the sandwich with a confused look.

He knows his brother always likes his grilled cheese sandwiches with tamato soup, but this was a bit much.

“Ah. Well Nibi said we should try to explore our tastes when we can. I had wanted to have something spicy that was easy to carry and-“

“Why cheri berries?” Emmet cuts him off. He could have just used the hot sauce. The berries make the sandwich too soggy to be portable.

“We had some available so I had thought it would be more efficient to use them,” Ingo replies easily. Too easily.

Oh. They forgot to pick up some soup yesterday at the store when they went with their parents. Ingo doesn’t want to bother them with this, and Emmet knows they don’t have enough after paying for their MetroCard recently.

“We will pick up tamato soup cans before we get home.” Emmet states.

“But we don’t have enough money on us to get some.” Ingo tries to remind him.

“I am Emmet. I will win money to buy some.”

“It’s okay, Emmet,” he starts, ”It's merely soup. We can obtain some next time.”

“It is not. I will get you soup. Berries in cheese sandwiches are verrry gross.”

Ingo looks at him a little affronted. Emmet thinks he should be a little bit for liking wet sandwiches.

He should have at least used dried berries if he wanted to lie.

“No it's not. At least I don’t use the butt end of the loaf bread first.” he retorts back at Emmet.

“It is the first thing. It should be used.”

“It protects the rest of the bread.”

“No it does not”

“Yes it does.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“NOOO.”

“YEEESSS.”

“NOO- do you smell burning?”

They finally noticed that there was some smoke coming from the pan. They scrambled in a panic, trying to save the food and not trying to somehow burn their home down.

Both of their sandwiches had a “burning” taste to them that lunch, but as Emmet shoves an eight pack of tamato soup at his brother as he walks out of the store later that afternoon, he thinks it wasn’t a bad day.

-

Age 29

“Do you want me to go with you, Emmet?” Elesa asked through his headphones.

“It's ok. I am on the train. You want to make Nibi like you more.” He replied, adjusting his cap, his bag, and the basket on his arm.

“What?” she gasps, “I would never.”

He snorts, making sure the noise could be picked up by the headphone mic.

“But seriously. Do you want me to go?”

“I am Emmet. I will be fine. Go do your shoot.”

“Okay. Okay. I’ll see you Sunday.”

The call ends with a click as he settles into his seat on the subway.

He’s in his casual clothes today, as it was one of his days off. This was the afternoon train, so it was mostly people returning home.

He supposes he is returning to one too.

He is going to visit his parents in Anville Town for a few days. He is going to enjoy their company. He is going to walk around town enjoying the fresher air.

He is going to address the Donphan in the room civilly despite their differing views.

Ingo wouldn’t want them to argue, especially if it's about him. You can’t call a person officially dead before they were missing for seven years after all.

It has already been more than four, Emmet has to hold onto that hope that it won’t be more than seven.

Emmet looks out the window. The expanding metropolis gives way to the lush scenic views that the Brown Line speeds through to reach the terminal.

He reminisces about the times he rode on this line with Ingo traveling to and from the closest Trainer School in Nimbasa. The time they left on their Journey. The trips and the visits.

The time they returned with everything but the championship under their belts with a job set in their hearts.

The day he told his parents he was going on a Journey in Hoenn six months after his brother's disappearance. The overworking and sleepless nights eating away at him, until his parents and Elesa intervened. It did him some good those two years, not over focusing on things. He carries sunblock with him forever now.

The train eased to a stop at the terminal. He had waited for it to halt completely before getting up to exit the open doors. He nods to the attending Depot Agent by the exit, who tips his hat in return.

The open platform of Anville Town showcasing the cloudy afternoon sky. The trees were a summer’s green and the air was still a bit humid. Emmet could hear a flute player’s performance on the wind to his right.

Before crossing that bridge to the rest of the town, he had somewhere to be. He steps down from the terminal to head to an older beaten path a bit aways from town, swaying to the music that fades as he travels.

-

The old abandoned train tunnel was as shit looking, mysterious, and ethereal as he remembered. The faded red brick encasing it merged with the stone as best as it could. The growing vines and moss along the wall aiding its endeavor. The rusted tracks lead to a collapsed dead end on one end and fade into the forest on another.

Emmet and Ingo had loved playing and exploring around here when they found it. Later this  became their spot to train Current and Labra before their Journey. This had been also where they had fully evolved them inside the cave tunnel, the power of the dual evolution lighting up the dark pathway.

He remembers the smile on his face and the overjoyed glow in his brother’s eyes.

He also recalls the two time capsules they had left here. He knows where his is, but it was wrong to dig it out without his brother and his matching one.

After all these years, he was still curious to what he had put in it.

He opens the basket he had brought with him, pulling out a worn and gaudy checkered picnic blanket. He spreads it out by the wall and takes off his shoes before sitting on top of it. He sends out Current and Labra.

The two pokemon look around for a moment before resting nearby him, the Eelektross curled by his lap and the Chandelure hovering above him. He reaches for his basket.

It had snacks and small gifts for his parents, but he pushed past it to reach for the meal that he packed for himself earlier that day.

It was a spicy grilled cheese sandwich, a water bottle, a rawst berry fruit pouch, and candied peanuts.

The familiar burn of the cheri berries and hot sauce makes him wince, but Emmet was more spice tolerant now than he was 20 years ago. The sandwich itself was cold, too wet, and not as good, so the heat was welcomed.

He lets one half sit on top of the sandwich bag for a bit as he stares at the increasingly orange and pink sky. He watches a the wind rustles the trees and the clouds pass by. The pokemon lay with him in silent reminiscence.

Wherever Ingo was, his breakfast sandwich choices are still fucking shit.

______________

Ingo wakes up one night in his tent with the urge to admonish about profanity and defend that he likes what he puts in his grilled cheese sandwiches. 

You don't have to like it because it was his sandwich, E-. What? Who?

He stills for a moment before trying to grasp at his journals in the dark. He doesn't sleep until Lady Sneasler shoves him in her den with the sneaslets.

He dreams of burnt bread and tamato soup.

When he tries to make the soup with cheri and chesto berries in the morning, it was too chunky and the flavors were a bit different.

Its one of the foods that taste like home to him that he loves but doesn't understand why.