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#painting of a clown in an iron lung
workandnonwork · 1 year
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twitter seemed to really like this one when i first posted it lol
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slashersidewhore · 4 months
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Slashers! HC how you first meet them pt.2
Slashers x f!reader
Includes Bubba Sawyer, Bo Sinclair, Art The Clown, Stu Macher
Warnings: mentions of murder/violence, some stalking/harassment (not by slashers), ill intentions, pre-relationships, reader is a bit self deprecating, shitty friends
Bubba Sawyer
Of course you’d been dragged on a girls trip, and of course the minute the engine blew in you were shoved from the back seat onto the side of the dusty, gravel road, laughed at and told, “go find a mechanic”
God forbid your so called friends, which now you were rethinking the decision to even be here and with them, chose somewhere to travel where there was actual cell service
So here you now were, standing on an old porch that you weren’t even sure was properly attached to the house barely kept upright and covered in chipped paint
“Hello?”
A few more knocks on the creaky front door echoed out before your patience ran out, turning the handle and finding it to be unlocked
“Uh, hello? If I’m breaking and entering just let me know but this place seems abandoned”
You cupped your mouth and spoke, just to cover all your bases in case you were actually entering someone’s home, although the cobwebbed walls and moth bitten carpet spoke otherwise
“This isn’t creepy at all…”
Wandering aimlessly through the houses threshold, you searched for something that you help back on the road where all your friends were waiting
Or maybe you were just hoping this would buy you time before you had to walk 4 miles back to tell them you came up with nothing, no mechanic, no help
Your eyes glanced across the room, taking in all the items scattered about, some miscellaneous and some meticulously placed
Then your curious gaze landed on an ash tray sitting beside a moldy plate of what looked like some kind of meat
Although the fluffy possibly-poultry wasn’t what alarmed you, the smoke filtering from the end of a half smoked cigarette resting on it did
“Boys, we’ve got a fresh one”
A deep voice hollered, a rough palmed and smelly hand slapping over your mouth to muffle the hale scream that had popped from your lungs due to shock
Before you could even think to fight against the obviously strong body pinned to yours, you were being dragged towards an open basement door and thrown down the narrow, wooden staircase like a rag doll
“Take care of er’ will ya?”
The voice of your captor yelled down from the top step, slamming the door behind himself and surely locking it in the process
Disoriented and nurses a now slight headache, you mustered the energy to prop yourself up, hazy eyes bouncing about the room before they landed on what could only be described as a large, terrifying figure standing a few yards away
He wore a stained and tattered apron, brown stains you were hoping were dirt and not dried old blood
One hand gripped a cleaver, whatever he was chopping up before you entered the basement sat mutilated on a work bench, the stench of iron heavy in the air
Despite all that, the man seemed frozen, staring back at you through the eye holes in a poorly sew together mask
“I didn’t even wanna be here,”
You started before you I could stop yourself
“My so called friends dragged me out of my room a few days ago for a last minute road trip, and of course when one of them decided to bring their fuck ass car without checking it out first, it literally gave up on itself and then I get sent out to look for help but guess what! We’re in the middle of nowhere so I found this house and well it’s your house so that’s just my luck”
The man only blinked, body language clearly taken aback that you weren’t screaming bloody murder
“Just, if you’re gonna kill me, can you at least knock me out first so it doesn’t hurt?”
A loud knock at the door startled the two of you, followed by the man from earlier noisily coming down the stairs
“Why haven’t you taken care of er’ yet bubba?”
The man didn’t yell but he definitely sounded upset by this turn of events
The other man, who you now knew was called Bubba, shuffled awkwardly in his spot, rubbing the back of his head before robotically motioning to you, still sat on the floor
“You like er’ huh?
You watched the exchange quietly, although unable to contain the confusion set on you’d features
“Fine, but she’s yours to deal with, you remember what happened last time we took in a stray”
At that you pointedly turned around, staring up at the man that regarded you in terms like you were a dog
“Well I’m not a stray, technically you kidnapped me-“
Bo Sinclair
You weren’t entirely sure how you ended up in this seemingly abandoned town, one minute you were checking the map for your exit and then you missed it
Now you were here, coming to a stop as you realized you needed gas and weren’t anywhere near the hotel you had booked for the night
You definitely weren’t getting the rooms deposit back
Pulling into an empty parking lot, you pulled your phone from the passenger seat only to come up dry when the cell service was next to nothing
Then, before you could warn your heart not to jump out of your chest, a knock on your side window pulled a startled yelp from your throat
A man, not too old but not young either, stood on the other side of the car door, neutral expression morphing into a cheesy smile when your gaze met his and exchanged a few seconds of awkward, panicked staring
Brows raising in realization that the stranger, while sketchy and probably holstering a gun, could maybe help you figure out where you were and where to go
Opening the creaking door to your vehicle you pocketed your pepper spray just in case before hoping out of your seat and into the chilly night air
“You lost?”
“No, I intentionally ran out of gas in the middle of nowhere”
The man chuckled, albeit seeming taken aback by the brash sarcasm about your current situation
“Well good thing you ran into me, little lady”
The man who still carried about like this predicament was the most normal in the world smiled wider when your face pinched up in confusion, placing an open palm out to you
“I’m Bo, and you are, darlin?”
“Someone who knows not to shake hands with a complete stranger”
“Feisty”
“Oh, I’m getting there”
Despite the night breeze tickling the hairs on the back of your neck, you couldn’t help but enjoy the slight banter you were getting into
Although probably dangerous and wildly crazy to be out so late just walking around, this Bo character as charming, and something about his stare was growing increasingly comforting
“You know people don’t usually show up here, especially at night, all alone”
“But do they at least have gas in their tank? Because that’s already one up on me”
Bo threw his head back, whipping his hat off to push back the hair that fell towards his forehead in the fit of deep chuckles
“I’m normally not too inclined towards outsiders, but if you’d like a room for the night, I’d be happy to oblige little lady”
Art the clown
You strode through an alleyway, hands in your jacket pockets as you made your way back home
It was just your luck that the last night plans your friends picked for Halloween happened to be a party at the house of a guy you don’t even know
Especially your luck when only 20 minutes in you were all already abandoned, you’d ride gone and with it your phone charger
Thus, you nursed a bruised ego in a pirate costume, clutching your phone with one hand even though the battery was lost past dead
“Hey you!”
A distinctly male baritone called out from behind, you sped up not bothering to turn and face whatever stranger wanted a late night chat in the middle of an empty, dark alley
“Well that’s not very nice!”
The man responded to himself, deep chuckle furrowing worry lines between your brows
Just your luck, just your damn luck
Turning the corner to what could be described as more favorable to due the abundance of street lights and open space, the lack of people still has your nerves on overdrive
That was until you nearly ran smack into a body around the corner
Although expecting a gasp in surprise or shout in anger, all you received was a shocked expression, one such as a mime would use
Whoever this man was, was clearly wearing a very intricate costume, clown makeup done to the 9’s and a fully tailored suit to match, with a hefty, tan bag slung over one shoulder
All of your courage of wanting to leave this awful situation, and fear of what would happen if you didn’t took hold, before you knew it you were panicked and leaning forward, watching with just as much curiosity as the clown eyed you
“Listen you don’t know me, but there’s this guy following me and if you could just pretend to be, I don’t know, a friend, I would appreciate it”
The clown seemed to understand immediately, bright grin tossed on his features as the stranger that had previously had your full attention came to a stuttering halt
“Lady, I was talking to you back there”
“Oh! Sorry I just was meeting with someone and well, here they are!”
You laughed nervously, awkwardly leaning into the clown and patting at his shoulder, gazing at the stranger, you saw a look of terror cross his face right as he stumbled back a bit
“Yeah, got it”
And then he was high tailing it back the way he came
Glancing back at the costumed man you stood alone with, you caught how his face held a look of something utterly terrifying before he caught your eye, cheesy grin returning
“Thanks..”
You questioned for his name, grinning softly at the way realization of your ask spread across his face
Hand motions went left and up, down and right, then he paused, pulling the bag from his shoulder to rummage through it, pulling out what could only be described as junk, metal and rusty and junk none the less
Although the way he motioned to the item, placed it in your open palms and played a scene before you, you took to guessing
“Metal?”
“Sculpture…?”
He moved his fingers like a painter would stroke a canvas
“Art?”
That single word had the clown clapping his hands, tucking his body with a faux bow like you’d discovered something only a genius could
Laughing something genuine for the first time that night, you pondered if you should just take your chances and leave for home, or stick around a bit more with this concerning but most definitely interesting person
“So.. what else do you have in that bag?”
Stu Macher
Being the new student in a town where everyone already had friends, or at least those they only socialized with, was difficult
You’d only been here a week or so and you already wanted to move again, alas, that wasn’t exactly up to you
All you could do was hold your head high, and suck up the annoying situation you’d been tossed into
Now, a new school was bad enough, imagine your surprise would you found out there had recently been a string of grisly murders, unsolved and rampaging
Which is why you’d been an outcast since you’d appeared, like they all assumed it must be you, the murders starting, you arriving, it all was too much of a coincidence, despite the fact that it was
“Look at her, I’m telling you that girl gives off crazy”
Off handed comments like those weren’t unusual, yet today, after switching to a new class because of this exact issue, you’d had enough
“I bet she’s the killer”
“Oh yeah? And what’s your evidence?”
The girl gossiping with her friend abruptly stopped her ‘private’ conversation when she heard your quip
“Excuse me?”
You stood, in fact you stood so fast it made the chair screech across the floor, catching the attention of the rest of class
Luckily the teacher had stepped out and you could finally say what you needed without worry of authority looming over
“You know, if I’m supposedly killing students, like you say I am, why so proudly speak about it around me?”
You strode up to her desk, arms crossed with a look of disdain
She seemed taken aback, lips moving like a fish and head bobbing as she glanced between you and her friend
“Well, I-“
“If you really think I’m doing all this, why would you piss me off?”
The girl was at a loss, face paling as you simply said what you needed, before turning and grabbing your bag right as the bell went off, students funneling out behind you
Opening your locker, you startled when a body came crashing into the locker beside yours, arms crossed and looking at you with squinted eyes yet a wide grin
“So you’re the new girl?”
He wasn’t half bad looking, in fact, you found yourself heating up the longer he gazed down at you
He had this odd air about him, like someone holding too many secrets and hiding them far too out in the open, something that only seemed to allure you further
“And a murderer, haven’t you heard?”
You joked, taking out your next classes books before shutting the locker, the look on this guys face was utter curiosity, something you hadn’t received yet while being here
“Of course, just let me know what days you spree so I can avoid staying in”
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Not gonna lie to y’all, I was so focused on getting this posted I haven’t spell checked or done a once over, there will and most likely are errors!
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mable-stitchpunk · 2 years
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I cannot believe this, but would you believe that there is actually a line of Twisted Ones action figures? Shocking, I know! It was an amazing find. It's both based off of the book Twisted Ones.
There's six glorious figures to the series. Let me show them to you.
The first figure would be of Twisted Freddy:
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Just like his book counterpart, Freddy has numerous rows of teeth, a giant anus on his belly, and is growing Christmas bulbs off his right side. I'm not quite sure what is supposed to plug into his groin- that might be where he is supposed to charge.
Here's how he looks without his face:
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They even added the detail of his aluminum foil endo.
All things considered, very close to the book representation. I'm afraid to say that not all of the figures have this much accuracy, but a very strong start.
Next we have Twisted Bonnie:
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Just like in the book, Bonnie is made out of refitted speaker equipment, and you can see half of what looks like a spongey lung fit into his chest. This was explained in book as being Bonnie's Blood Sponge, so that's a shocking amount of accuracy.
Without his face he looks very similar to Freddy, so I won't show it.
All in all, a rather good showing!
The next figure up would be Chica:
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This is where I have some problems.
See, as you remember from the book, Chica was an animatronic comprised of marshmallow who chases after the teens after they sneak into Big Bird's Burgers and Baked Goods. The figure has her default coloring. HOWVER, it also has her cupcake smooshed on her face. Chica's cupcake didn't get melted onto her face until the toasting scene, so she should be brown and crispy, not this color.
I do appreciate the added detail of the chocolate swirl eyes. I really wished this was the Toasted Chica variant when the chocolate melts and leaks down like tears. Not sure why they didn't go with that one.
Anyway, here's her without the face:
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While I do appreciate the Big Bird themes- if you don't know, Twisted Ones included a promotional crossover with Sesame Street that was ironed out by Scholastic to promote their new "Count the Nights with Freddy" books- as mentioned earlier, Chica is supposed to be filled with chocolate, so the endoskeleton is inaccurate.
While close to her book counterpart, there's just some bizarre changes that I cannot understand.
Onto the next one, Foxy the Pirate:
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Now, surprisingly, Foxy's accuracy is back on track. He even has the brown on his legs from the chase through the sewer scene and the oversized head matches when his suit absorbed all that water.
However, I'm not sure why his internal Birch is green instead of the typical white, and the clogged clump of refuse around his hook should be brown, not orange.
Foxy looks like Freddy and Bonnie under his mask, so I won't provide the picture here. Just know that as Foxy never lost his face in the book, and it was never described, I can't tell you if this is book accurate or not, but it seems close.
All in all, a decent showing. Just some coloring issues.
Now onto the big bad villain himself, William Afton, or Springtrap:
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Springtrap looks fairly accurate, what with his AV cables hanging out and his gold clown nose. This must've been during the scene where he calls forth all the animatronics with his echolocation powers, explaining the gaping mouths.
Here's what he looks out without the mask:
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Surprisingly, William himself looks pretty close to his book description-
"Charlie looked up to see a round, bald head looming over hers. Unblinking red eyes stared so intensely that she could nearly feel the gaze burning on her skin. Upon seeing her look back, his mouth spread into a wide grin, with the gaps between his teeth showing a yellowed void marred by years of ingesting paint. It was Uncle Will."
So, it has that going for it.
The last character is the most interesting though, because through it I realized something I had totally missed during my readings of Twisted Ones.
It is none other than the security guard himself, Jeremy:
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Now, on first glance this seemed to be on-point enough. I remembered the book saying he had dark hair, but not much other than that. In my defense, I hadn't read the book in a long time, so I didn't realize something was off until I remembered the packaging.
I haven't showed you the full packaging of this figures on purpose, I was saving it until now, because there's actually a picture of a night guard on the label. It was only until I opened the Jeremy action figure and remembered his role in the book that I realized that it had to be Jeremy on the label.
But there's one big difference to his action figure counterpart.
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Jeremy is a completely different ethnicity!
Confused, I went and reread the introduction of Jeremy, and I came to a startling realization. I missed something huge.
"The man who had fought off the rancid bear revealed that he was the weekend security guard at the robotics factory. His name was Jeremy Fitzgerald. Jeremy was black."
Jeremy's black! 😲 I had no idea! That's a pretty neat find.
But that means that this is the most inaccurate figure of the bunch. I'm not sure why they accidentally made Jeremy white, though it's possible that they mixed him up with Mike- explaining the blue eyes.
Well, that's the full set! All in all, it's a mixed bag... but a pretty neat find for collectors of Anime Five Nights Game Pizzeria Simulator memorabilia. If you want to get one for yourself, I'll leave the link to Amazon here:
I warn you though, the whole set's a little pricey. Maybe just pick and choose the ones you want. Anyway, hope you found this as interesting as I did!
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obscureamor · 3 years
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— angel baby
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⋯ demon! tendou satori x fem! reader
⋯ t/w | nsfw, noncon, blood, choking, corruption, mentions of murder, tendou’s cum is black
» tendou satori was just a myth, but who knew you’d catch his eye.
✧ a/n  |  this was another... character... originally so if it doesn’t, i don’t know, fit the ‘criteria’ of the regular demons you read about that’s why, but i do hope you enjoy. ¡happy halloween everyone! stay safe and have fun! ♡
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Halloween is the most awaited holiday of the year. It’s cherished in many hearts. It’s cherished in your heart. The night is filled with pumpkins, candy, and delight. The air cold, leaves falling, and costumes that cause fright.
Maybe you should’ve stayed in tonight.
You had it all planned out. Your friend said the party would be small, just a little get together. She’d go as the devil and you’d be the pure little angel... but you didn’t think it’d end up like this. You didn’t think your curiosity would result in you coming back out to see this. He had time. The house was large, easy to get lost in and so while you were looking around, everyone else was paying the price of being so close to you.
You didn’t scream when you saw the sight, hoping, just hoping it was some sort of prank, but the tall man standing in the middle of it all said otherwise. His clown costume reminded you of a B horror movie. You should’ve had better instincts, better intuition, the clown that’s been following you all night oblivious to your precious little mind. It’s easy to back you into a corner, easy to dart towards you, but you’re just so full of surprises.
The beer bottle that you hit him over the head with did nothing. It only succeeded in making you fall on your ass, the hope that it’d knock him out making your movements messy. It only succeeded in ruining his face paint, showing how he looks under the black and white makeup. The man is still standing, still staring at you with his knife in hand. Familiarity isn’t present in your panicked state. You don’t think you recognize him. His stature and build don’t ring any bells until you notice his red hair. The face paint that smeared off gives you a better look.
Nobody knew his actual name. The police didn’t. The news didn’t. Tendou Satori was a name born online through scary stories and people who had nothing better to do with their time.
Tendou Satori.
He doesn’t speak. Just jokes. Everything’s a joke.
“Please, please, I-I don’t...” you whimper out from your place on the floor.
Your white slip is stained with red, the feathers on your wings are dripping with blood. He doesn’t like the way it looks... you’re supposed to be clean. It’s ironic really and you can’t help but be confused when his shoulders start to shake up and down. There’s no sound coming out from him as he mimics the motions of laughter. He’s acting like he didn’t just slaughter all your friends, like he didn’t just seek out this party because you caught his eye.
‘An angel drenched in red,’ the thought is too funny.
You start to sit up because maybe while he’s distracted you can leave. You can run out of here, but placing your hand firmly on the ground— blindly on the ground isn’t a good idea. In your extreme focus on him, you don’t watch where you’re placing your hand. You don’t see the stray piece of glass closest to you. The pain doesn’t register until you stare down at your bloodied palm. The cut is large, blood dripping down, down your forearm and the gasp you let out has his head snapping towards you.
All movement and faux happiness ceased.
Your doe eyes are clouded with tears, lips wobbly as he stares at you and you stare back. ‘You’d be fun to break,’ he thinks. The smile on his face is big, too big to hold anything but malicious intent. Tendou’s hand clenches around the knife. It seems bigger as the orange and purple lights reflect off the metal. You scoot back, injured hand cradled to your chest. God, you don’t want to die... not by this sadistic clown and at the sight of him bringing the knife up, you stop all movements.
“Please...” It’s the only thing you can think of to say. ‘Please don’t kill me. Please don’t hurt me.’ But you don’t expect him to bring the knife to his own palm cutting a large slit across it. Your mouth is agape. The sight you’re seeing can’t be real— it’s not real. It’s black... his blood is black and it’s like you’re staring into the void as your wide eyes lock onto his hand. You don’t know why this makes the tears fall harder. Maybe it's the fear of the unknown. Maybe it’s the regret that you didn’t read all those articles your friends sent you on him. Maybe it's because this means he's not human.
Tendou Satori isn’t just a scary story.
You whimper, sniffling and attempting to scoot back more, but it’s thwarted when he lunges at you. The scream you let out could shatter windows as his body pins yours down.
Although he may look lanky, his strength is unmatched.
“Get off of me!” you scream, hands shoving blindly and feet kicking.
He doesn’t look as sporadic as he did before. He’s focused, movements precise as he tries to get you to stop struggling. You only come to a stop once the knife's tip comes to contact with your throat. Tendou could easily kill you— right here, right now —but instead, he uses it to cut down your dress, making you sob. The cool air of the house makes you shiver and goosebumps raise on your flesh.
He’s curious. He wants to cut them off. Why is your skin doing that?
And so in his curious state, his grimy hands come into contact with your tits, black blood staining the skin. You cry out as he pinches hard at your nipples.
“Please, stop!” you wail, “Ple—!”
He shoves his fingers into your mouth, drawing a horrific gag out of you. The taste makes you heave as he pushes in deeper, relishing in the way your little throat convulses around his digits. Your eyes are wide as your good hand wraps around his wrist. His bloodied hand makes its way down to your panties, ripping them off of your body.
‘Are you as pure as an angel? You’re really going to let some entity ruin you?’ He supposes you have no choice and the thought makes him mimic a snicker.
You watch as Tendou pulls down his bottoms, dick coming into full view. The feeling of passing out haunts you. You’re sputtering around his fingers, nails digging into his wrist in panic. It’s almost like he can sense it when his fingers leave your mouth and his hand wraps around your throat as he lines himself up with your entrance.
“I-I... please...” you gasp. “P-Please don’t do this to me!” You hope this will work. “Please, Tendou!”
He stares at you, unblinking and you think maybe... just maybe— a splitting grin breaks out onto his face. It’s quick as he shoves his fat cock into you, but the burning sensation lingers and it feels as if you’re being torn apart. Your back arches and your hands scramble to grab onto something, anything. They settle on the front of his costume, hands gripping tight at the satin material and blood staining the white. It’s a nice contrast to the monotone colors of his costume. It adds a pop of color almost like the red slowly seeping into your wings, white almost nowhere to be seen.
It’s still. Everything is still. The wind blows outside. The daunting laughter of those in ignorance of what’s happening to you rings in your ears. He’s letting you adjust and you can feel your body reacting.
His cut hand grabs at your injured one. You don’t know what he’s going to do as he’s still within you. This is something he’s never felt before. Your warm gummy walls flutter around his cock. The feeling of tight pussy wrapped around him. Tendou laces his fingers with yours as he leans over you, black blood mingling with the ruby red. It makes your nose scrunch up, lips trembling and another sob leaves you.
‘This is perfect. You’re perfect,’ he thinks as he studies your disgusted face... but your pure blood is mixing with his tainted black. ‘You’re already tainted.’ There’s a beat of silence as he comprehends the thought.... then he starts to ram into you.
‘You’re tainted.’
It’s the only thing that makes sense and since you’re so tainted that means it’s okay to ruin you. There are sobs mixed with moans coming out of your mouth as he thrusts into you with no clear rhythm. It’s sloppy and messy, pussy now slicked up just enough for him to move in and out of you smoothly. The squelching sounds that are now loud in your ears make you sob into your hand. You watch as he stares down at where you connect, watch as he pants out, and squeezes your hand as if you’ll disappear. He squeezes your throat as if he’s just itching to kill you, but in all honesty, he thinks you’ll be fun to keep around.
The tears that leave your eyes and trail down your face is such a sight when his eyes flit up to your features. They gleam under the LEDs and give him a full-body shiver. And when he leans forward, you turn your head to the side, eyes clenched shut and cheek now smooshed into the blood you didn’t know was trailing towards you. Your costume’s wings dig into your back and you can feel the blood that’s not yours seep into your skin. It’s warm and wet, warm and wet like the blood beneath you. His tongue laps at your cheek, lap, lapping at the tears that fall and— Why is this happening to you?
Tendou’s hand keeps giving yours small squeezes and you can feel his cock twitch within you. He’s cumming... oh god he’s going to cum inside you. It’s sporadic, thrusts now for his own pleasure and you hate your body for being so compliant. He takes note of how your wings are completely red now. They’re stained just like he’s staining you and Tendou can’t help but let his mind drift… thinking red looks good on you and now he wants to see you covered in it.
You don’t even know if he can understand you, but you still try. You bargain. You plead. But nothing will stop a Hallows Eve demon from getting what he wants. He cums inside of you with no warning. The sight of your wings and skin all bloodied enough to push him over the edge. You can feel his chest move as if he’s panting but still, no sounds come out from him. When Tendou pulls out of you, your eyes open. He watches intensely as your pussy just clenches, pushing out his viscous demon seed and you can’t help yourself from letting your eyes fall too.
His cum is black. It’s black and it oozes out of you so strangely.
Black as his blood. Black as the void you feel as if you’re falling into. Your head falls back onto the floor with a thud, staring straight at the ceiling as the orange and purple lights dance around. Tendou comes into your field of vision and smiles. It has a child-like innocence to it and yet you can’t feel anything. His lips move, words not quite comprehending yet... until they do.
“You’re mine.”
It’s raspy, paired with a smile. The only words he’s uttered all night. The only words he needs to say that make you pass out.
Maybe you should’ve stayed in tonight.
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Badass || Bill Denbrough x Reader
Day 2 of Fictober
Pairing: Bill Denbrough x [gn] Reader
Requested: how about you do a bill x reader where the reader is a badass but still in the losers club???? just came up with it!!! btw love ya work and love ya!!!!
A//n: Aw thank you so much! That’s so sweet of you. Love you too darling, hope you like it 💛💛💛 and thanks for being so patient like the rest y'all 😘 [also i am in no way a badass so I’m sorry, I tried lol] edit: OKAY IM ACTUALLY SO PROUD OF THIS, HOLY CRAP?? And again, i finished and pressed saved draft 30 SECONDS before midnight, so fight me this counts lol i just had to set up the title and tags and stuff on my computer before posting. anyways, thanks for waiting for this request, i hope you enjoy this, like i said, im actually surprised at how proud of this one i am!
Fictober Prompt: “that’s the easy part”
Warnings: Blood
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“ROCK WAR~!”
The next thing you knew, rocks were soaring across the stream straight for your head. Luckily for your skull, your reflexes were faster than you remembered and you managed to duck before a giant stone could knock you out.
And yet you still heard a thump?
You peek out from behind your arms, looking behind you to see Richie laying flat on his ass, his glasses askew. You winced before you caught sight of a giant rock near his foot and quickly made a grab for it.
Your glare stretches across the stream, settling on the leader of the bigoted pack. You kissed the rock as you met his eye, a devilish smirk stretching across your face as you wound up. Bowers was scrambling for ammo but you had already released. The rock found its target with a satisfying ‘thunk’ leaving Bowers on his ass clutching his bleeding nose. He pulls his hand away, gaping at the overwhelming amount of blood that had already painted his hand before locking eyes with you.
“KISS MY ASS, HENRY!” You hollered with a triumphant smile. “YOU TWISTED FUCK!”
“What the fuck?” Belch and Victor began scrambling back, looking around desperately for rocks of their own.
The Losers spared wide eyed glances your direction as they unleashed a storm of rocks on the now deeply unsettled Bowers gang. Bill was the only one who hesitated, his wide blue eyes frozen on you when you turned to give him a smirk. You had been looking for ammo and it seemed he had the perfect one. You cocked a brow, your devilish smirk still dominating your face as you gestured to the stone in his hand.
“You gonna use that, Billy Boy?”
You threw a few quick glances across the barrens making sure your weren’t gonna get hit. Luckily morale seemed to be growing scarce over there.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t completely gone.
“Ow,” Bill hissed, right hand clutching his left shoulder. “F-f-uck.”
Your head whipped around on your shoulders again to see Victor Criss’s upper lip twitching into a satisfied smile as he looked at Bill. You returned your attention to your boyfriend and the rock he held out for you.
“Let me,” you seethed.
You snatched the rock up, stomping forward with a wild glare in your eyes that was enough to intimidate the bleach blonde. Victor was already on his heels and running, but you weren’t letting him get away that easy. You threw with all your might and watched with pride as it soared through the air and hit him directly on the spine that was poking through his back. He cried out in pain as he fell to the ground, his chin meeting the very rock bed that fueled the fight.
“EAT SHIT,” You spit. “YOU LACKEY ASS FUCK!”
~~~~
“Turn it off!” Beverly cried. “TURN IT OFF!”
The projector in Bill’s garage had quickly turned into It’s stage as It put on a horrific display for you and the rest of your friends. What was just once pictures of Derry, suddenly turned into pictures of Bill’s family - you missed Georgie terribly, having grown so close with him the year before he died when you and Bill first got together. And now you were all staring death in the eyes as It manipulated the very air in the room around you. Every click of the projector put you on edge, the stroking effect and of course the child eating clown tormenting you all.
It was hard to process your own thoughts as they were quickly drowning in everyone’s screams and your own fears. You clutched Bill tightly to your side, your arms linked and your fingers stitched together. Everything was moving so incredibly fast it was near impossible to process until you realized you weren’t holding Bill’s hand anymore.
“Y-Y/n!” He cried, tugging at the back of your shirt before it slips from his grip. “Y/N!”
Mike had already unplugged the projector, that much you knew. But you were fucking desperate. You lunged for the projector, gripping it tightly as you held it high above your head. With a guttural scream, you threw it as hard as you possibly could into the cement floor. It broke instantly into several unidentifiable pieces, the room now completely dark and eerily silent.
Heaving, you finally look up to meet your friends faces. Each of them were gaping at you, an expression they seemed to always be wearing around you.
“Well,” you say finally. “I think it’s safe to say we found It.”
~~~~
“How hard is it,” you seethed, your voice growing in volume. “to NOT wander off? In a FUCKING HAUNTED HOUSE?!”
You took all your anger and fear out on the door Richie was being held in. Your elbows were practically glued to the surface while your fists and forearms repeatedly pounded on the door. First Eddie, now Richie. You swear, these idiots had to me smarter than this.
“Richie!” Bill joined your side, pounding on the door that had closed all on its own.
“RICHARD!” You pounded on the door again, your anger turning to pure fear that was now stinging your throat and eyes as tears began to well. “This is not fucking funny, open the goddamn door asshole!”
Your hand wraps around the doorknob again, and you shake the handle, jostling it around in hopes something will cave. When the door flew open, you didn’t know whether to chalk it up to luck, skill, or it was all still part of It’s torment but you didn’t care. Richie was alive, and tumbled into your and Bill’s grip.
“Richie!” You hugged the boy tightly, then pulled away with your signature glare. “WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING!?”
“N-n-no t-time,” Bill says, looking between you and Richie with determination in his eyes. “L-let’s get outta here.”
A muted thump answered before you could. You, Richie and Bill all looked to the source of the noise to see the moth-eaten mattress from earlier was now shifting by itself. It looked as if it was filled with jumping beans. A melon sized lump grew in the center before the fabric split to reveal the disheveled and muddied up head of your friend.
He smiles at your twisted expressions. “Wanna play loogie?”
Your reflexes are faster than your thought process and you run forward. Just as a strange black goo starts to spill from fake Eddie’s mouth, your leg was swinging through the air. Your left foot connected with the left side of his jaw, narrowly missing the sizzling black ink and Eddie’s head popped off his body as you put it across the room.
It sails through the air, his greasy hair catching several cobwebs as it spins. Specks of the goo go flying landing on the walls and ceiling before the small head collides with a disturbing ‘thunk’.
“What the fuck?!”
“Holy shit,”
Eddie’s head lands in the far corner of the room where it rolls back and forth on his right ear before settling. He was groaning as if all the spinning had made him dizzy. The ooze of black goo came out even faster as if he were ralphing, and it was now pooling across the floor and inching towards their feed.
“Oh, that’s fucking GROSS!” Richie looks quickly to you. “And now you made him angry!”
“At least I did something!”
“Guys,” Bill pleads. “C-come on,”
The pool of black tar is spreading fast and you and Richie don’t have to think twice to listen to Bill. You all turn on your heel, only to find three doors instead of one.
Very Scary, Scary, and Not Scary At All.
Not Scary At All was the winner, Bill and Richie quickly decide. And despite your protest that it was all clearly a trick and the doors were misnomers, they opened the Not Scary At All.
“Where’s My Shoe?”
The light was turned on to reveal the severed body of Betty Ripsom and you had promptly decided you had had more than enough.
“WHERE THE FUCK WERE HER LEGS?!” Richie cried.
“I’ve got a guess but I’m not sticking around to find out.” You growled.
You cast a glance behind you to see the tar had eaten up most of the floor, giving you little room to do what you wanted. Luckily, you didn’t need much. You took a few steps back and looked at the door in the center, your eyes settling deep into the crimson letters spelling “scary.” You were certainly glad you realized when you did that unlike the door that held Richie hostage, this one could easily be broken down from where you stood.
You sighed. “I have to do everything.”
~~~~
“WELCOME TO THE LOSERS CLUB, ASSHOLE!”
Richie’s bat swung through the air and knocked the clown back. Pennywise quickly recovered and lunged for the nearest target with a disgusting growl. You quickly scrambled for a weapon as Mike stepped up to bat. He threw the fence iron rod at the monster but it was stopped midair when It’s jaw unhinged and out came several charred arms holding it in place. More and more reached out from inside It’s throat and made a grab at Mike who was fighting back the force of all the arms.
You never happier to have been too slow to save your friend when you saw Stanley pick up one of several spare iron rods off the ground. With a brave determination, he launched forward with a fierce battle cry as his torch came down on the branch of arms that now recoiled, saving Mike. It stumbled back, the charred arms slinking back into its mouth and disappearing and Pennywise stumbles again when Richie kicks It forward and away from him. Unfortunately that brought It right to Stanley.
“Stan, watch out!” Bill cries from your side.
But it’s too late, It’s head had already changed to the same horribly contorted lady that had you had already found attacking your friend. Only this time it was still wearing It’s clown suit, and it was racing straight for Stan.
“Stan!” You cried, already running forward after him only to stop second later.
Yet again Stanley roared, striking the clown across the face with the most furious look you had ever seen on him. Despite the horrifying circumstances, you were quite proud. You quickly fell back into line, ready to fight with the others and you smiled yet again when Mike followed up Stan’s strike with a devastating blow of his own.
The small moment of victory was soon cut short - a pattern you were currently getting used to - when a pair of red tentacles-turned-crab-claws pulled Mike to the ground.
“Mike!” Eddie shrieked.
Mike was able to barrel roll to safety as as It advanced on him. The end of each gigantic claw striking the earth and narrowly missing him and you and your friends quickly followed not knowing what to do. You couldn’t watch it anymore, and you hated yourself for what you were about to do but you knew you would simply never forgive yourself if you lost Mike, or any of your friends.
For what Bill wished was the first time of the summer, he felt you leave his side as you charged headlong into danger. Another guttural scream left you as you hurled yourself onto It’s back, your iron spike in front of It’s neck, both hands on either side of the rod and you pulled as hard as you could.
Pennywise’s disturbing, maniacal laughter grew even scarier, something you didn’t think was possible as he began to suffocate. You let yourself drop back down to the ground, your grip still tight on your weapon as you used your position to pull It down to the ground. It was still laughing through chocked breathes but it had done what you hoped, and stopped, Mike had gotten to safety with the Losers.
And for one glorious moment you felt indestructible. Until you saw it shift before you’re very eyes and your eyes widened, as did the eyes of your friends and Bill. It’s complete figure changed, starting with It’s head. You and the Losers no longer saw a painted lady, a mummy, a horrible memory, an abusive father, or even a late little brother. But they saw you, their friend Y/n, cowering and crying under the iron rod that pinned you to the ground by the neck.
“Please,” It whimpered, bottom lip quivering horribly. “Please don’t. I don’t wanna die.”
The real you was staring at the sight of yourself, the real fake you that you always tried so hard to push down. You knew it was Pennywise, but it was enough to make you choke completely. You were always so confident, and you were good at sticking up for yourself and the rest of the Losers. At least that’s all they ever saw, that’s all you ever let them see. Deep down you were terrified, and much more than that you were terrified that your own fear would get in the way of protecting your loved ones.
Like now.
“Y/n?” Bill’s soft voice called out to you, breaking you from your spell.
You look down at your blubbering face, tears streaking down your cheeks as you begged yourself for mercy. Several pleas leaving your lips when finally you pulled the rod back. Your eyelids flicker open, gazing back up at you and watch your every move cowering.
“Y/n?” Ben asks.
You don’t answer, you just straighten, your demon double cowering beneath you and it only angers you more to know none of this is It’s own fear. It was yours. It was mocking you.
Which was pretty stupid, considering you still had the spike.
You bare your teeth as you summon your strength, throwing the end of the spike into the ground, going right through your throat.
~~~~
You watched with head on Bill’s shoulder as another drop of blood from your palm fell onto the grass. You were trying to think about anything but the pain, and with everything you had faced this summer, you certainly had the pick of the litter.
“It feels different now,” you say, voice quiet. “And not just cause It’s gone, ya know?”
You even hate to let yourself believe that, but for the sake of your sanity and the chance of every getting another night’s sleep you’d have to believe it. And knowing Bill as long as you did, you know he felt it too.
You pick your head up off his shoulder and look to his gaze break away from the hills in the distance to meet your eyes. For a moment he doesn’t say anything, and you know for sure he’s thinking it too. Beverly was leaving for Portland, Stan said he heard whispers from his parents that they might be moving and that was all on top of the heavy weight of your guys’ trauma that had already begun to drain everyone.
“A-a-at least we-we’ve got each o-other,”
You smiled, nudging his shoulder with your own.
“Big sap,” you chuckled.
He smiled a little, enjoying the small moment between the two of you. But it disappears when his mind returns to image that had been replaying in his mind nonstop since Neibolt. The image of your cowering form that bothered you so much. He had never seen you - the real you, that was being confronted, that is - so distraught. He gulps, gathering his strength.
“W-what made you s-see that?” He asks.
You don’t answer for a long moment, and Bill fears he’s upset you. Or confused you, but he doubts that is the case. Finally, you look up at him, and lick your lips nervously.
“I’m scared Bill,” you croaked, heart pounding wildly at the admission. “I’m always worrying about you, I’m always worrying about Richie, Mike, Eddie, Stanley, Bev, and Ben. I’m always worried something is going to happen. I’m always scared something’s gonna happen to the ones I love, and I get scared that I’m not gonna be enough to protect them.”
You take a deep breath, swallowing all the air you lost in your unintentional rant. Somewhere during your confession, your gaze broke away from Bill’s gaze and now here you were afraid to even look him in the eye.
There’s another silence that Bill finally ends after a small thoughtful moment.
“It’s okay to be scared, Y/n,” he says, pulling your eyes to him. “I-I-It’s part of being h-human.”
You bite the inside of your cheek, trying your best to banish the image of your cowardly form from your mind. Suddenly the sting of your cut didn’t hurt so bad.
You looked back into Bill’s soft eyes, and shrugged.
“I know, but it doesn’t make me feel too great either.”
He nudged you again with a charming smile.
“Well, y-you’re still a badass. Y-You’re always s-standing up for us,”
You chuckled weakly, sending him a smirk.
“That’s the easy part,” you say. “It’s looking out for myself that’s harder.”
“T-t-tell ya what?” You raise a brow at his sudden demeanor. “I’ll be t-the b-b-badass lookin out for you,”
You laughed, leaning in and giving him a lingering kiss that turned his cheeks absolutely scarlet.
You smiled when you saw this. “Thanks Billy Boy. Appreciate it. But I’d still like to work on myself a bit, ya know?”
He smiles again, this time triumphantly. “Deal.”
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flour-cloud · 3 years
Text
Henlo fandom! Now we explore that angst situation where Alcina is drunk by a excessive amount of maiden's blood and passed out in front of Donna's door. Mention of: self-inflicted pain, blood, tortures and loss of children.
It is a cold, dark night. When that forgotten-by-Gods village had a night with a full moon and shining stars? Something that was remotely...nice? Alcina was devastated by Ethan's murder of her daughters, she managed to survive by pure accident and the basements smell so good, that place looks so inviting and tempting: darkness, loneliness, silence. Peace. A dead woman rotten to the core clearly belonged to a place with that aura. A long,red,solitary tear run from her eyes to her neck all the way down that white, burned and ripped dress she loves so much. Alcina put her head under the blood line in a tub full of sanguine Virginis than she walks out the door. That disgusting human stole the body of her angels after the fight. If the vampire had a heart she probably would ripped it off her chest. The lady of the castle try to sit on chair made of iron spines in order to feel something different. Maybe that inflicted pain is the proof she has a heart,but one that does not pump anymore. If she peeled her skin maybe she would find crystals, something more noble than that rotten corpse that she is.That numb in her mind ... she was unable to say a single word about anything. The blood she drunk is restoring her body-structures and organs, but she has no urgency of breathing. Suddenly,when the moon reveals itself trough clouds Alcina decides to stand up and drink some more. Her head only reminds her how disgraceful that behaviour is.
So Alcina walks for minutes,for hours, ignored by monsters on the streets,by animals. And she passed out in a foggy zone she does not remember .
Angie opened the door.
"Mom! That tall busty woman smalls bad! Maybe is dead! Can we use her skin? May I have her claws? We can cut them off! " suggests the creature .
It is not usual that Donna moves to the front door from her chamber and her laboratory in the house,but when Angie calls mom should be there, no? A woman passed out at her door? A tall,busty woman? Maybe Alcina? That sounds bad. She paused for a moment and she looks down at her feet the big, stained and smelling body. "Call for help,Angie " Donna decides abruptly "no,darling, you can't have claws from her,she is alive. Very alive, stinky, but alive".
A bunch of clowns and creepy broken dolls help to transport Alcina inside.
Donna is disappointed when Alcina's blood stained the elegant sofa, she scrunch her nose a bit. "Now what? I am bored,mom". "Now we wait, Angie, come here" that authoritative and quiet calls is enough for the doll to obey happily.
Alcina opens her eyes.
"What happened?"asks Donna "miss, what happened?".
"I ... Bela,Cassandra...Daniela" the vampire tried to speak with a bit of fake confidence "they are gone. My precious angels are gone" more blood more tears more stains shaking in her big, massive body.
"Ethan" Donna is clever and fast in deduction "I have to give him the second piece of that baby".
"Miranda will scold you" a fake answer to something that was not a question.
"I am not afraid of her" Donna answers "are you afraid of Mother Miranda?"
"You should. She is immortal until we gave Rose pieces" tells the vampire. Alcina breathe instinctively for a moment and she looks at the veiled woman "she took you,darling,why disrespecting her?"
"Why fight to live without hope of a win? Why to live without the ones we love? We were chosen by mother's, but we are us, we ... feel. She doesn't. I am supposed to be grateful but Mother Miranda only expanded my sorrow."
The whole debate happened trough a doll. A demonic,creepy,doll that Alcina found incredibly creepy but well preserved. The lady scans the room with the eyes able to see in the dark: well dressed dolls with perfect hair and the finest jewelry on the shelves, the flowers and the toxic flowers on the table, the finest piece of furniture. That woman shows taste in art and wood pieces. Alcina looked at her hands: pale long fingers with nails painted in black.
Donna suddenly look distressed and she disappeared in the deep of the house. The conversation was too much for her fragile mind. She need some space and Alcina was not in the mood to follow her.
Time goes by, Ethan got the baby part, but Donna is still alive. Alcina hide while all happened.
Alcina does not know why that dolls were so fascinated by her. Not only Angelica was possessed and possessive, but she started to follow her with a big scissor in her tiny hand. The woman takes her up one day:"Mom she picked me,mom!"the doll screams from the top of her lungs.
Donna remained silent.
Alcina show a vague interest in the demonic creature, but she acts sweetly when the focus is on her: someone like her cannot be bothered by a minuscule doll.
"Are you afraid of heights?"
"I want your claws! Mama does not want me to have them, but they are beautiful and sharpened!" she laughed hysterically.
"You have to listen to your mother, sweet creature" she whispered "mother knows best".
"You have daughters! I remember mama told me about them".
"I had . They were killed by Ethan". It is the first time Alcina can say it out loud, verbally. That sentence sounds unbreakable and definitive, but true.
The doll sits on her shoulder:"You are so tall madame, I can climb you. I still don't get why you choose my door to pass out a week ago".
Ah,the voices shifting, Donna is back from darkness.
"Do you want to climb me specifically, Donna,or is that a little joke from your doll?". Alcina does not have idea if she was flirty and why. The artist does not want to makes Donna close herself again inside her dark mind.
Alcina thought about the last time she met the dollmaker, that elegant, dark and melancholic figure that speaks only by her doll. In the past week she saw Beneviento dress, the creative process of her creatures. "She has daughters that will never be corrupted by Miranda" she thoughts feeling the sadness arise in her chest.
Donna in her room is sewing faster than usual. She missed a point. She is distracted, she is afraid and that sentence in mind:"Do you want to climb me?" What does that mean? That woman has no shame literally and Donna does not want to be touched by anyone. Maybe Angie could do some work with her body and that vampire was enormous. Ugh. Too much to process.
Donna Beneviento decide she should do something about the vampire question in her room downstairs.
"I am sorry for the loss you experienced " Donna declared with her firm and soft voice "I want to give you something" . The creative act is sacred to Donna, she infused the presents with magic and dark force but the looks,oh, the details, the refined painting and the matching capes. Every doll has its own blade and insects made by gemstones on the dresses.
Alcina collapsed on her knees and then looked to Donna who keep an unreadable expression under her curtain. "You should stop drink this much, madame. I cannot stay here every night of my life listening to bad jokes about sapphic sex".
Donna run away and Alcina takes two big breaths in, two out. These dolls were identical to her daughters, it was a gift by Donna , a sign of her attention to the loss and mourning the woman faced.
No, her daughters did not die forever. She takes the dolls and cuddle them, she held them onto her chest.
What was that about sapphic sex? The vampire rolled her eyes.
Also Angie climb up to her. She wants to be cuddled and hugged.
"You'll may be my new second mum if you stop scaring mama Donna" she warning the woman.
"I am not scaring your mother and I was still drunk".
"Don't try to justify yourself!" That scream again from empty lungs not used to work properly. Alcina avoided a blade from Angie. "Mom appreciated you eradicated flowers Miranda gave us. Mom wants to be happy. Mom wants to be safe ".
Alcina ripped the horrendous flowers from the house and the garden one of the morning after she get drunk. Alcina as a perfect lady was not able to keep her hands out of Donna's house that was... dirty, if she had to say kindly. The lady decided that an act of good can do better than a dozens words of wisdom.
"I did it because it was necessary: if she wanted to be freed from Miranda's power the flowers are a first step".
"Mom knows that you are kind and considerate. Sometimes. When you do not eat human flesh, she doesn't like that behaviour ".
"It is not something I decided to start: It is a consequence of the mutation Miranda induced" the vampire defends herself.
"She knows,but she does not like it anyway" replied Angie" and she also think you two have two talk when she feels better". Alcina agreed
The next monday Donna feel better to face a conversation. At 9.00 in the morning,Donna shows up at the table .
Alcina looked at her:"How are you,darling?".
"Scared" answered Donna " and tired. Do you still have some jokes about sex? I find sex repulsive".
"I find sex interesting. But I am the one here who is trivial and coarse isn't it?" She smiled " so you are interested in me but not in sexual situations. Ok" she sipped a little of blood tea.
Beneviento didn't expected that fast acceptance for her condition about their relationship. Relationship? Oh God. She looked at Alcina.
"Is that ok for you?".
"Incredibly ok" answered the vampire lady "you host me in your home, you gave me your couch and you use your magic for me without doubting a moment. If I have to renounce sex for all of this...fine. your doll is far more interesting to me than a vagina".
"Thank you". The only thing miss Beneviento was able to think about was "thank you" like a broken neon.
The vampire nodded :"yes,I know, I am fabulous and awesome and I eat human flesh but darling,I would be too perfect If I didn't. You have fetus in the hall".
"It is an allucination" said Donna but she laughed "do you like it? Sometimes I call it Roger".
"You give your hallucinations names?"asked the woman.
"They were the only thing I had before your drunk depressed night walk".
"So I did the right thing somehow" decided the brunette, happily .
"No, but I am not in the position to criticise your choices ".
"You did it right now".
"I prefer to call what I did - exposing facts-" Donna take the tea.
Alcina laughed and also Angie.
"You have very strange reaction when you are afraid. So you need another mom for Angie?"
The dollmaker was quiet for a moment:"Yes. And weren't you the one who was happy with climbing up to each other?".
Sassy. Donna Beneviento is incredibly sassy when she feel enough strength and emotional involvement with someone. Alcina loves it.
"So can I climb on you?"asked Angie to Alcina" now you are my mom!" The little doll was delighted with her new person in the house.
Alcina gave to Donna a long,intense and funny sight. The question implied is clear to them both.
Maybe Donna also needed a mom sometimes. Maybe her damaged mind blurs the lines between the affection she missed and the affection she is getting,but that's not important. She is happy again, the house is full of living presences. A vampire. Oh,the irony...
The doll hugged mom Alcina strongly.
Miranda punished Donna for the misbehaving and the Ethan question, she suffered again and she came back home struggling to breathe properly because of the tortures she faced.
Alcina preserved her and protected her till the end of their time. The explosion and the mold died was a relief to both of them. Angie was broken,but Donna opened her single eye with the face covered in blood. She snuggled into Alcina arms for a moment covering her dress with stains, the vampire cleanse the veils in a fountain and put them back on Donna's angelic face, giving her a kiss.
"Sleep,darling, you are tired" Dimitrescu murmured while caressing the hair of the other woman on her lap "sleep,I am here. We did it. Ethan won".
"I want to be drunk right know" Donna declared and gives Alcina a kiss, a long, intense blood-tasting kiss.
"Nah,darling,better this way. I am sure tomorrow you will be at work for something that can climb up to me and I have a maiden to crush".
"Probably " answered Donna "but please,do not left the couch dirty. I have only one couch" and she fall asleep after a long time, hand in hand with someone who loves.
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scarjarbinks · 3 years
Text
The Fool’s Journey: A Star Wars Story (3)
Episode Three Heaven of Alloy
Their small craft was welcomed by a crew of red, skeletal droids with a single eye. One, slightly larger than the others, beckoned the shuttle with two illuminated batons. Tam remarked how she did not need anyone to tell her how to land her ship.
Kaz was first to exit through the cargo bay. He had only been on TIL-03 once before, and though his experience was brief, it was markedly unpleasant. Wegil followed him with the remaining two soon after while the R9 unit remained inside as interim guardianship.
The four inspected the dimly lit station with scowls upon their faces: scant buildings, mostly strips of identical motels and one large dome that Kaz had claimed was a gambling hall. Near the landing bay, an administrative office was tucked aside and almost blended into the ubiquitous grey landscape.
Wegil scratched his left cheek with a long and uneven pinky nail. “I could think of three other waystations that would be more comfortable than this one, and one is Hutt controlled.”
The door to the administrative building unsealed with a hiss and revealed from within a droid of overtly feminine build. Tam tucked her brow, her mouth gaping. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”
A short walk was necessary before the strange specimen could be within range to speak to the group. Unease filled Vrina as he made out a Humanoid face with a half-rusted body. Her joints creaked with each step, though artificial confidence practically exhumed from the droid. Her hips swung with every gait and she held a similarly coquettish posture as she stopped to greet them.
“Welcome to Tillo-Three, where all of your ship and crew’s needs can be met with a smile. I am Operator em-ee-nine-five.” The voice that rattled from her seemingly punctured speech modulator unnerved each of them. “Of which services do you request?”
Tam was the only one who could muster the strength to speak. “Emmy? Uh, well, our ship is damaged. Specifically—”
“Scan complete. All major systems of your ship are functioning at near capacity. All damage is surface and can be mended within a half-cycle. Would you like to use this time to take advantage of our luxury suites and top-of-the-line game hall?”
The pilot exchanged a quick shrug with her captain. Kaz said, “Sure. Are there enough rooms for each of us?”
“Yes, and at a cutthroat rate of one-hundred-and-fifty credits per night.”
The Zabrak cackled while the two Humans stressed. “I’ve got this. Consider it a gift.” He stepped forward and drew an account card from a pouch on his belt. The droid stared at the object and chirped as if thinking.
“I am unable to process cards. Credits are preferred.”
Kaz’s face flushed crimson. He blinked and tried his best to avoid turning to Tam, whose hip was cocked and arms were crossed. “I told you,” she hissed.
“I know,” he said. After a shallow exhale, he stepped forward and dismissed Wegil with a tap on the shoulder. “You wouldn’t happen to have something that’s, erm, not so luxurious?”
The femme droid clicked twice before responding. “Absolutely. Allow me to guide you to what we refer to as our ‘basic accommodations’.”
Wegil bumped Vrina with his elbow and whispered, “Why do I have a feeling this is going to be significantly less than basic?”
“I have a feeling you’re going to be right.”
A navy-blue custodian droid marched in front of a row of stout cylinders, each large enough to potentially house all four of the guests. The rattling Emmy slowed to a stop and gestured to a heavy iron door. “Your access code is zero-three-six-nine. Please register this to your memory as I am not authorized to repeat sensitive information.”
Vrina cracked a smile. “Hey. I’m so sorry, but what was that code again?” The droid crooked her neck to stare at the Mikkian, but a loud, repetitive clicking accompanied her completely still body. This pleased the Zabrak who approached the droid with curiosity painting his face.
“Seems you broke her, clown.”
He pulled back his head wrap to scratch just under where it rested on his crown.
Kaz stepped past Wegil and prodded the access pad, but each button was stiff and unresponsive. An obnoxious honk resounded from a surprisingly tiny speaker.
“Are you putting in the right code?” The shuttle’s pilot leaned in to inspect the pad.
“Yes, Tam. Let me just try again.” After another round of struggling, the same alarm blared once more. The femme droid broke from her glitch to turn to the bearded man, startling the Zabrak.
Her voice strained from the modulator and progressively lost volume as she spoke: “If you have issues entering your room, you can make your way to the main administration…”
Tam pressed the palm of her hand into her forehead. “This is among the top five worst experiences I’ve ever had. I’d rather be target practice for pirates.”
Shaking his head, the smile that settled on Kaz’s face gradually dissipated as he looked past the three and back to the landing pads. “That’s… Eerie. Tam.” He pointed his finger to two identical ships that lowered on either side of their shuttle.
She fumbled with her comlink. “Are-Nine?” It responded gleefully. “Can you scan those incoming ships? What do you mean there’s nothing to scan?”
Kaz spoke into his device as well. “Do you mean that comms are jammed?” The droid whistled back, its tone irritated. “They must have a way to scramble their signal, too. But theirs…”
“It won’t settle on another signature. It’s complete nonsense.”
Wegil thumbed his nose. “Hate to interject, but those ships are either pirates or you’ll have your first taste of the eff-ess-ess. Just one blaster?” He scratched his chest and clicked his tongue. The pilot clenched her fists.
“This could be good for us,” she said through her teeth. “After all, they have no idea who we are. They could see our ship and think it’s genuinely here for repairs.”
Vrina’s mouth parted, another strange headache seeping into his skull. He listened to the others banter for a moment before turning to the Zabrak, who bounced an expression of equal discomfort. “Wegil, did you contact anyone to tell them where you are?”
Both Humans spun to face the horned man. Tam drew her blaster, a sleek but humble DL-18. Its narrow barrel found itself locked onto the tense Zabrak. She asked, “Well? Did you?”
Kaz redirected himself to the ships yet spoke to the group in a stale tone. “That makes sense. There’s no way you were still unconscious during our escape from Coruscant. You could have hacked our hyperdrive coordinates and we would never know. We used your body to launch a crate—there’s no way you were still asleep.”
“You what?” Tam blinked and turned to acknowledge her captain. In that instant, Wegil lunged forward and struck the woman’s wrist with pointed knuckles and followed up with a push. Kaz growled and hopped forward to interject the attack but his punch was deflected with a flexed bicep.
The pilot reconstituted herself, crouched, and took aim. The Zabrak twisted his body to extend a leg with as much force as he could muster. His heel collided with the woman’s head and she yelped while crumbling backwards. Kaz shouted her name and brought up either wrist to shield himself from a series of quick attacks. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Vrina sprint to the pilot’s weapon.
Kaz’s knee rose into Wegil’s gut and the bearded man did not hesitate to detach himself to drop a heavy kick into his right ankle. After falling to the ground, a circular blue beam struck the Zabrak in the small of his back. The man thanked Vrina under his breath and rushed to his companion’s side. “Tam, are you okay?”
She opened up one eye, and then the other. Her captain helped her to her feet. Tam grimaced and felt her forehead. Wegil had managed to break skin. “He was… More of a threat than I thought. Where’s—”
The bearded man beckoned Vrina over and he obeyed after a moment of hesitation. Tam thanked him and requested her weapon’s return. “Oh, yeah.” He turned over the blaster and she slipped it back into her holster.
Tam frowned and broke from Kaz’s brace. “What do we do with him?”
After a moment of deliberation, the Mikkian spoke up. “If he’s in with the Federation, we could maybe use him as a bargaining chip?”
“We?”
He raised either hand and backed up. “I mean—you. You two can do that.”
Kaz hummed. “Vrina Hon, are you willing to work with us for the remainder of this mission?” He received a nasty glance from Tam, but he chose to ignore her. “Know that your tooka may have to go a few more hours without eating.”
He scratched the back of his neck and pouted. “He is kind of chunky…” Vrina sighed and looked up to face both. “Okay. Sure. Just tell me what to do.”
The pilot had been crouched next to the idle body of Wegil while the comedian and her companion spoke. She pulled a small device from his waistband. “This must be what he used to contact the eff-ess-ess.” Tam rotated the conical object in her hand and the two inspected it with blank stares. “Oh well.” In the next instant, her fist tightly enclosed to crush it.
Upon opening her hand, several pieces of metal fell from her palm and littered the ground next to the Zabrak’s unconscious body. Vrina asked, “Do we try to sneak our way back to the ship?”
“I’d say we just toss him off a platform and get it over with.” She grazed her forefingers over the still-bleeding scar on her forehead and seethed.
Kaz stroked his chin before speaking into the comlink. “Are-Nine, are we fit to get out of here?” It chirped back with a positive affection. “Can you try to get them out, then?” He turned to Vrina and filled him in: several maintenance droids were still on-board. The Mikkian could not prevent himself from grinning. “What’s so funny?”
He shook his head to dismiss the question and Tam pat her hands clean. She examined the somewhat distant landing bay with a careful eye. “I can spot a handful of figures from here. Whether or not they’re armed… In any case, we’re outnumbered and outgunned.” Then, to Kaz: “We’re completely banking on the fact that they don’t know who we are, what we look like, and what our business is. If Are-Nine did his job, we should look innocent enough to slip away unnoticed.”
Vrina cut the bearded man off. “They’ll notice the carbon scoring before anything else.”
“That’s what I was going to say,” Kaz nodded to the Mikkian. “Plus, there’s only one ship here. If these people truly are attempting to establish a government from the shadows, they’re not dumb. We have to be prepared to run or fight.”
“With one blaster?” He shook his head.
Tam raised the DL-18 and raised her eyebrows. “I’m a damn good shot, Vrina Hon.”
The gravelly voice of Wegil knocked each of them off-kilter. “So are they.” He kept his face pressed against the cold cement even as Tam pointed the weapon to him.
She growled, “I’m taking this thing off of stun.”
“Now, wait a moment,” Wegil insisted with a clever smirk. “They know me. You have two potentials and one almost certainly results in your death.”
Kaz shook his head when Tam readied her weapon in a ploy to execute the vigilante club owner. “I can only guess. What do you have in mind? No, stay on the ground.”
The Zabrak became still just as he motioned to push himself up from the ground. “As you wish. I’ll skip to the good part: if you three meet the officers and introduce yourself as an interested party, then we can be free to exit this station unharmed. Since you’ve already scrambled your shuttle’s signature, they won’t have a way to trace any previous routes.”
A heaviness settled onto the group as each of them considered this. Vrina reminded the pilot that she had very little time to decide and it was probably best for her to holster her weapon. “If these guys see you pointing a blaster at their contact—”
She cursed under her breath and agreed with a hasty unequip. Kaz followed through by helping Wegil to his feet, each muscle tensed in preparation to retaliate. He dusted himself off and slowly walked off in the direction of the landing bay. The droid, Emmy, trailed behind them.
With a shudder, the Mikkian said, “What is this thing doing?”
Wegil looked back and grinned. “She can’t speak, anyway. I’d wager to say it makes our plan that much more legitimate. Come now, at least pretend to be interested in what they have to say.”
The pilot asked through her teeth, “How are you even standing right now?” A breathy laugh expressed through the horned man’s nostrils. She rolled her eyes.
A short expanse of stairs connected to a wide platform housing their shuttle and two larger, much more expensive ships. Tam caught herself admiring the weaponry and cleared her throat to refocus. After a brief wave to the Federation officers, the two parties met up.
Six were present with ostensibly more still hidden in their ships. They wore similar outfits, white tunics and matching slacks—all of which were form fitting and sleek. Four of the representatives were women. Their hair was mowed into a buzzcut, exaggerating their otherwise gentle features that appeared marred by a certain experience none of them shared.
“Commander Isten,” Wegil greeted the shortest woman. “I never thought I’d see you out of your office.”
“It’s nice to stretch my legs.” Her tone was deadpan, unmalleable even as she spoke to those behind him. “This is quite a haul. Whatever you’re doing to convince people of our cause, never stop. The droid, too?”
Each turned to face the stiff and rusted Emmy. The Zabrak turned back to Isten and shook his head, a calm smile planted on his face. “The droid works here. As much as I believe I’ve done an excellent job, it may be beneficial to hear the Federation’s mission statement from its source. Care to take it away, Commander?”
She nodded once. “Our goal is to have a universal presence among each civilized planet, to establish a perfect and functional trade network without the cumbersome element of excess taxation. Each planet will know what the other has and will order accordingly. There will be no more unnecessary bureaucracy. There will be only abundance.”
Though Kaz’s throat was tight, he managed to squeeze out a question. “The difference between the Republic and the Federation is—”
“Transparency. Locals will not be permitted to join the Federation. This ensures that outside ideals will not pollute the already efficient think tank we have spent decades constructing.”
“I see. What will be the role of, say, Jedi?”
Isten’s posture did not change, but Vrina felt a spike of irritation when she raised her chin. “That’s a curious question. Since we’re exchanging curiosities, may I enquire about the damage your shuttle has taken? Small arm scoring and quite a considerable amount of it. I wasn’t aware one could make so much trouble coming from Dantooine.”
The commander waited for the group to process her question, but Wegil was quick to respond with enough confidence to at least steady his companion’s nerves. “There has been an increased presence of pirates since—”
Once again, the woman jumped to cut their speech short. “Since Exegol and the rumored revival of the Jedi. I know there is a temple on Dantooine. You,” she nodded to Kaz who felt his body freeze. “What is your name and occupation?”
He attempted to remember the disguise he chose for this mission: simple black garments, a tight belt, newer boots without much scuffing. “Kazuda Krishan,” he lied. Wegil noted how he chose to stick with his first name and hoped that the other two were just as wise. “Senior mechanic from Dantoo Town.”
Behind Isten, a man with a yellow ribbon tightly wound around his neck unveiled a palm-sized tablet from his pants pocket. She kept quiet while the man hurriedly tapped the screen. Wegil mentally weighed his options and attempted to adjust his demeanor when he felt the woman’s gaze envelope him.
The man spoke up: “No records for Kazuda Krishan. Three-hundred-seventy-four recorded entities with the surname Krishan, four-hundred-one recorded entities with the first name Kazuda.” He paused, seemingly for effect. “Zero of which resides on the planet Dantooine.”
Isten raised her eyebrows. “There appears to be some discrepancies, Mister Geun. The Federation of All Systems wish only to be involved with those who prize transparency and honesty. One down, two to go. You.”
Each nerve in Vrina’s body became lit as she felt her cold glare fall onto him.
“What is your full name and occupation?”
“Um,” he looked to both Wegil, then the beet-red Kaz. “My name is Vrina Hon, with an ‘o’, and I’m a stand-up comedian from Coruscant.”
“Where in Coruscant?”
He blinked once. “Galactic City. No need for comedians in The Works.” The group watched the woman break a smirk. Once again, the man behind her began to run calculations on his tablet. This time, the search was considerably quicker.
“This identity checks out, ma’am,” he nodded. “Photo and all.”
She hummed, pleased. “Well, then. We have one who is willing to tell the truth. Now, there are a myriad of possibilities running through my mind at the moment. You might be the ringleader of this group,” Isten paused to assess the group as a whole. Tam’s nostrils flared. “Or she may be. Name and occupation?”
The pilot rendered her teeth as an impenetrable gate. Her eyes were hard as they fought against the prodding examination of the Federation commander. After a few tense moments, Isten shrugged her right shoulder. “No matter. I have no power over any of you, so if you do not feel compelled to give us information, so be it. Wegil, I am afraid a majority of your haul will not be useful to our cause. You see,” she took in a deep breath and addressed each member one-by-one. “The Federation of All Systems is in an exciting phase where we are looking to fill many slots in our communications and engineering department.”
Tam exhaled a short, harsh breath. “This was an interview? We’re not interested.”
“None of you? Not even you, Vrina Hon with an ‘o’?” Commander Isten crossed her arms. He felt a subtle ache flit about his skull. “Where do your skills lie other than telling jokes? I can see that you are honest and full of integrity. Can you fly?”
“N-no. Pretty useless on that front. Typically, I just walk everywhere.”
Wegil stepped into the conversation with a slow swipe of the hand. “At least the news can spread organically this way. Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to meet with me.”
Isten looked past the horned man and to the Mikkian. “I was not finished. Since you are an honest individual, let me try to clear up something that’s been weighing on me: what exactly happened in Gil’s Gab?”
The Zabrak choked on a hard swallow and visibly tensed. “Commander Isten, there’s no need to ask anybody but me about my club.”
“Go on, then. Explain to me why two of my captains were in your club when it was attacked by a rogue company of terrorists? Explain to me why you are with them now, still?”
Each of the five officers behind her drew their weapons: compact blaster rifles of a model nobody in the group could identify. Tam felt the impulse to reach for her blaster, but Kaz reached out to touch her arm. She understood that this would be the move that ended her life. With unshakeable confidence, he said, “My name is Kazuda Xiono, son of Hamato Xiono.”
Isten smiled. “I know. Go on.”
He creased his brow and hesitated to continue. The officers’ weapons did not waver, each of them dedicated to one member of the group—including the confused Emmy.
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dirt-clown · 4 years
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thinking about the sad clown in the iron lung painting from rockos modern life
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theclownprnc-arch · 3 years
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@robingrinned said:  Jason punches joker in his stupid clown face possibly (?) ft the crowbar he stole from the safe
WELL, THAT HURT.
The chase around the unused attic ends ( or at least is temporarily stopped ) with a BANG. How it all comes full circle. Joker feels a warm, sticky leak from one of the nostrils. Robin put such TERRIFYING enthusiasm into this swing that particles of the clown’s face paint must now be shaking hands with the other’s now DRIED BLOOD that used to almost flow over the crowbar. HOW IRONIC. The absurd dawns upon him quickly — just as soon it ousts the dizziness turning his strut into a drunken stagger and the frown turns UPSIDE DOWN.
Eyes still slightly narrowed when he lunges at the kid, RIGID CLUTCH tightening around their shoulder. Perfect opportunity to get WHACKED again, even with a juicier CRUNCH this time around, but maybe Robin’s smarter than that.
“LOOKIN’ FOR A RE-RUN?”
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thexwayward · 4 years
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@anonymous asked: "I promise, you won't feel a thing." ( for Jason, love Joker in an abandoned warehouse with a crowbar :D )
𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖘 ;; 𝖆𝖈𝖈𝖊𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 || find it here
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            he wanted to fight it, to break past his former traumas and tear the killer clown to shreds. he’d pondered this moment, pictured taking his long awaited revenge, a crowbar in hand. he wanted to hear the soft protest of his leather glove against the hard wrought iron baton and swing. a white-hot flash clouded his vision.            what hurts more? a? or b?            vision granted once more, the broken-winged robin glared ahead, savoring the moment. he wanted to press his boot into the joker’s ribs and listen to them crack, a sound more beautiful than any tinkling of piano keys filling the balmy air around them as his story came to a close near gotham harbor. yet, here he lay, in much the same position as before he died, bound and left on the hard cement ground, staring at the shoes of the monster that put him in his grave. jason focused elsewhere, biding his time as a hard crack sounded from behind him, a sharp pain shooting up his spine.           forehand? or backhand?           long ago he’d learned that pain was temporary, and if ignored, all the better. the perk of being at the boot of an unhinged psychopath like the joker would always remain that a change of plans would bring new opportunity. he just had to wait.            a slow breath through his nose told jason all he needed to know about his surroundings; the musty, salt-caked air hinted at being near the harbor, the sour, mildewed stink of abandonment was thick in the air. ocean eyes darting toward the silvery moonlight filtering inside the shabby building dulled as it touched the grimy concrete. the fractured tin roof tiles that littered the floor spoke of its age, probably somewhere closer to the northern sector of the city, where the mafioso touch had long since faded.            he never counted the hits, never focused on the pain, but rather the growing mania behind his captor’s movements. the joker seemed angry, enraged he wasn’t able to strike fear where he’d once struck death. it was almost funny. another hit, another kick, and soon the joker was on one knee, fist coiled in jason’s black locks, a few white hairs clinging to the sheen of sweat that dotted his scarred brow. any moment now.              as the villain leaned forward, his crooked, red grin stretching wider, loathing in his eyes, jason struck, smashing his forehead forward. the sickening crack that sounded was the first few notes in a symphony that inspired movement. rolling from the joker’s grasp, jason brought his knees to his chest and unbound his ankles, swinging his bound arms beneath the curve of his bum and over his curled legs, leaving him free to move around, arms in front of him, ankles unbound. lethal and ready for the coppery sweetness of revenge on his lips.               three bounds forward, he brought his conjoined hands up in a wicked swing, his fists connecting with the underside of the clown’s chin in a tooth-snapping uppercut. cocking back, jason lifted his leg and kicked, slamming the full sole of his boot into the joker’s sternum, the crack of his ribs resonating in the emptiness that encased them.             proud and wicked all at once, jason rushed forward, swinging his conjoined wrists over the joker’s head to yank the madman back into a choke hold, leveling his lips with the side of the monster’s painted face.             “ think you have a collapsed lung, there, lambchop. ” he seethed. “        that always impedes the oratory. ” 
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workandnonwork · 2 months
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no
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tangyyyy · 5 years
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Elu One Shot
Hello everyone !
Enough drama, enough clowning, time for Elu smut !!
Yeah... It has been pretty hot in south of France lately and it made me dream about Elu in summer time...
If you want to read it, enjoy ! Oh and if you like it, please, feel free to say it to me ! ;)
Warning n°1 : It can be very explicit.
Warning n°2 : English isn’t my first language, sorry for my mistakes !
Summer Pleasures
"My aunt has a new boyfriend..." It was the beginning of June. In Paris, the days were becoming hotter. Lucas, Yann, Basile and Arthur were all busy with their high school work. More than a few weeks and the boys would say goodbye to high school. Eliott had finished his academic year for a few days and already enjoyed a well deserved rest. In Lucas' apartment, the atmosphere was chill. Tired of revisions, all had agreed to take a break. On the couch, Lucas was comfortably seated, his head resting on Eliott's thighs, his feet on Arthur's laps. Basile, seated on the ground, played with an old Rubik's cube, and Yann, lounging in one of the armchairs, stared absently at the ceiling. Nobody seemed to notice Eliott's remark. The latter, an idea in his mind, looked down at Lucas and ran a hand through his hair to get a little more attention. "You know? Aunt Isabelle, the nurse. -Hm.” Lucas gasped softly, closing his eyes. "I've never met her, though? -No." Silence fell again. Eliott racked his brains. How to steer the conversation in the desired direction while leaving some suspense hanging? "Well... She has a new boyfriend. -We're really very happy for her then. Well done Isa!” Arthur smirked, making openly fun of Eliott's topic of conversation. "He's a farmer." Lucas didn't even bother to answer, slowly falling asleep on his boyfriend's legs, a hand of the latter still slipped into his hair. In front of this lack of interest, Eliott sighed. Too bad for the suspense, he would now go straight to his goal. "He has a big house, they are going to Argentina this summer and they offered to lend it to me during their trip. Would you like to go there with me? -Let me guess, an old and crappy barn in the Limousin surrounded by a hundred of cows. You make me dream Eliott!” Yann exclaimed in a mocking tone.
Eliott smirked, really, the four boys were absolutely not ready for his proposition... "No, he's not that kind of farmer..." the young man answered in an enigmatic voice. The curiosity stung, Lucas opened an eye. "What do you mean?” He asked. "He's an olive grower." Eliott explained, trying to keep an attitude devoid of any excitement. An awkward silence fell into the livingroom.
"The olive trees grow mostly in Provence, right?” Arthur asked again, a hint of excitement in his voice. "Yeah.” Eliott replied, repressing the laughter that had been floating in his throat for a few seconds already. Following his answer, all eyes stared at him. A wide smile on his lips, his eyes half-closed, Eliott, solemnly spoke again. "Guys, in July, I invite you all to Belgentier, in Provence, in the mas of the new boyfriend of my aunt. It's about twenty min... -What is a mas?” Basil asked, cutting off Eliott's announcement. "Putain! Bas'! It's a kind of old farm often very classy in Provence. Go ahead, Eliott. -I was saying... A twenty minutes from the sea, not far from Marseille, no neighbors to two kilometers, so loud music is more than allowed, large pool, several terraces, hammock, wi-fi, playstation 4, air conditioning inside, heat outside." As Eliott had finished his explanations, loud cries of joy echoed throughout the apartment, the four boys rising in same time, hands to heaven and smiles on their lips. "Awesome!” Basile exclaimed. "Putain, that's the dream!” Arthur shouted. "Indeed, as we said... Well done Isa!” Yann laughed. "Thank you.” Lucas whispered, kissing Eliott's lips.
The boys spent long minutes planning everything, what they would bring, what they could in such an amazing place. Then, after a moment, Yann got up. "Well guys, let's celebrate these future holidays with a beer in the café not far away from here!" All were agree. As the young men left the apartment, Eliott grabbed Lucas' elbow to hold him a little longer inside. Once they were alone, Eliott put his hands on his hips and brought him closer to his chest. The mouth a few inches from his, he stared into his clear eyes. "I invited the others but..." He started in a soft, low voice. "We could going there a few days earlier to... -To?” Lucas repeated, smiling, arching his eyebrows. He put his hands on the small of his back and approached his face a little more to his, his eyes inevitably falling on his lips. "To spend time just you and me.” Eliott teased, pulling up his hands on the young man's cheeks. "Just you and me? -Just you and me."
Lucas stared at him. Eliott merely brushed a stand of hair away and leaned in to kiss him. Lucas' hands gripped his hips and he opened his mouth. With ease, Eliott took in everything, tilting his head to kiss him better. He pushed him against the wall gently and Lucas moaned without breaking the contact.
« Guys ! What the fuck are you doing ?! » Yann's deep voice rang from the bottom of the building. Eliott and Lucas moved away with regret, their mouths bruised by kisses and the pupils dilated with desire.
Lucas struggled to open his eyes and then watched around him. Lying on his stomach in the middle of a king size bed, covered with white cotton bedding, the young man stretched himself out. He and Eliott had reached Toulon from Paris by night bus. Of course, they couldn't sleep well in that bus. Eliott's long legs didn't allow him to find a comfortable position, so he had been turning around and around on his seat all night long. Lucas, being a light sleeper, hadn't been able to sleep either, always disturbed by some annoying noises. Arrived in Toulon around 5am, Eliott's aunt had come to get them and drove them to the mas. After a quick visit of the house and a huge breakfast, she had left them and they had immediately fallen asleep. Sitting in the big bed with messy hair, his cheek stained with saliva, a sign of a deep and restful sleep, Lucas narrowed his eyes to catch sight of the big rusty iron clock hanging on one of the walls of the room. 2:15 p.m. The young man stretched again, his breath escaping from his lungs in a sigh of ease. The room was large and had only a small amount of furniture outside the bed (the largest bed in which Lucas ever laid), two light wood chests of drawers, an old desk, and two small white patinated bedside tables. The terracotta floor was covered here and there with persian rugs. Some painting masterpieces were hung on thick walls of white stones. The large windows overlooking the garden were blocked by blue shutters, flooding the room with subdued light, contrasting with the fiery sun that was shinning outside. Laying his feet on the floor, Lucas shuddered at the feeling of cool tiling. Walking a few meters, he approached one of the windows that had remained open and pulled the door latch open. Quickly, the burning air of Provence hit his face. Closing his eyes, he inhaled a great burst of heat and hastily closed the shutter. He preferred to keep everything closed, the darkness guaranteeing some freshness inside the old house.
Not bothering to wear anything other than his black boxer, he left the room. The atmosphere in the living room was very peaceful, nothing disturbed the silence but the quiet purr of the air conditioner hanging in a corner of the room. Eliott wasn't there. In the kitchen, Lucas grabbed his sunglasses on the table and headed for the small front door. The steep garden had been laid out in a many terraces separated from each other by small dry stone walls of different heights. Still on the doorstep, Lucas was at the top of the property, under a huge purple wisteria growing on a wooden pergola. At the bottom, the young man could see the impressive plantation of centenarian olive trees crumbling under the post-meridian sun. A few cypresses punctuated the garden as well as many groves of lavender, rosemary and other aromatic plants. The scene could have been totally silent without the cicadas, singing on the top of their trees. To the right of the garden, halfway up, on one of the largest terraces, was the swimming pool. A large expanse of turquoise water surrounded by tall trees providing the necessary shade for summer naps. There, under a large pine Alep cut into a ball, Lucas saw Eliott, leaning against the gray bark, a sketchbook in his hands. Barefoot, Lucas walked towards his boyfriend, braving the hot sunlight. After crossing some tiles terracotta terraces, walking in the green grass and descending the stone steps, Lucas stopped in front of Eliott. The latter raised his head and smiled at him. Instinctively he put his sketchbook next to him and spread his legs in an implicit invitation. So happy to comply, Lucas crouched down, sat down on the grass between his long legs and rested his bare back against the naked torso of the young man. His skin was moist and pleasantly fresh. "Have you been in the swimming pool? -Hm.” Eliott answered simply. "Was it good? -Almost too warm..."
Lucas smiled and sighed of pleasure. He rested his head against Eliott's collarbone. The latter didn't lose a single second and put a light kiss in his thick hair. Grabbing Eliott's thin fingers, Lucas put both hands on his belly, playing peacefully with their entwined fingers. "This place is beyond perfect.” He said. "Indeed, it's beautiful.” Eliott grinned, resting his chin on his head. "When did you wake up?” Lucas asked, staring at their interlocking hands. "Half an hour ago I guess, something like that. -You couldn't sleep more? -Oh yes I could, but you snored so loud!" With a smile on his face, Lucas punched slightly Eliott's ribs with his elbow, making the latter laugh. "As if!” The young man spluttered, pretending to sulk. A comfortable silence fell on the garden. Feeling Eliott's soft, deep breath against him, Lucas closed his eyes and relaxed his body. The cicadas, the sun, the smell of lavender, the song of a turtledove. The young man almost fell asleep when a small drop of sweat formed at the edge of his hair crashed against his shoulder. The air was hot, so hot. Even protected by the shadow of the big tree he could feel every centimeter of his skin starting to burn. "I feel too hot" He whispered. "A jump into the pool and you'll feel better.” Eliott replied.
Taking his word for it, Lucas leaned on Eliott's lap and stood up. Walking by the pool, the soles of his bare feet burned by the heated stones, Lucas squatted and ran a hand through the water. Eliott hadn't lied to him, the temperature of the water was just fine. The young man sat down and without waiting, flipped his body into the pool. Immersing himself completely in the crystal clear water, Lucas felt a strong feeling of freedom growing deep inside him. His body, free from the weight of gravity, floating on the surface, was totally relaxed, not heavier than a feather. He turned his head slightly and caught Eliott's gaze on him. He liked when Eliott looked at him with these eyes filled with desire. Pretending to ignore the young man's stare, Lucas ran a suggestive hand through his wet hair. Playing for a moment in the water, he moved his body between water lapping and great fresh breaths. Finally refreshed and dying to join his boyfriend, the young man swam to the opposite edge of where he had entered a few minutes earlier. Turning his back on Eliott, he put his hands on the floor and get out of the pool. Doing this, he felt his boxer slip along his buttocks. Eliott hadn't stop staring at him and Lucas smiled in anticipation. He knew very well what this sight could trigger in his boyfriend's mind and he was very proud of it. Adjusting his boxer, he walked around the pool and settled back between Eliott's legs. " So? -You were right, It feels so good... " Lucas approved, a big smile hanging on his face. Totally relaxed, he let his body soaked against Eliott's. The latter, taking advantage of the refreshing wetness, sighed. He buried his hands in Lucas's hair, playing with a few strands, giving an expert massage on some points of his scalp. Lucas didn't move and closed his eyes, focusing on Eliott's caresses. The latter then slid his hands down his neck, making his fingers dance on the small bumps of his spine. From the back of his neck, he ran his fingers to the front of his neck, caressing his thin skin, he then went back to his jaw, his chin and his mouth. Fingers on his lips, Eliott tilted his head slightly. "You're beautiful..." He whispered, taking his earlobe between his lips, sucking on it for a moment. Feeling his belly contract by a deep feeling of desire, Lucas smiled and opened his mouth in a satisfied groan. Still motionless, he kept his eyes closed. Eliott then put his hands on his shoulders. With the backs of his fingers, with his nails, he gently went down along his arms, triggering chills on the tanned skin of the young man. Tying their hands again, he took one to his mouth and sensually kissed each of his knuckles. Then, feeling a sensation of intense heat emanating from his lower abdomen, he couldn't help but take Lucas' thumb between his teeth.
"Aouch ..." Lucas smiled playfully without moving. taking his thumb in his mouth, Eliott greedily sucked it. The sounds of sussions coming to play a sweet melody to the ears of Lucas, the latter turned his head and, placing his hand against the cheek of Eliott, kissed his lips. Slowly moving his tongue over his lips, he eagerly tasted him. Cigarette, chlorine and sweat. An surprising blend that was transformed through Eliott's throat into a sensual fragrance. That kiss was soft and moist, hot and breathy. Nibbling his lips, Lucas got his tongue into the young man's mouth. The heat rose in their cheeks. Without getting rid of the kiss, Eliott's hands stroked Lucas's neck again and then went down along his chest, lingering on his nipples hardening at his touch. One hand remained on his chest, the other went down a little more on his belly contracted by pleasure. Brushing against some places, pressing others, Eliott knew exactly what moves could driving Lucas crazy.
Lucas moaned in Eliott's mouth as he slowly planted his nails in the skin of his groin. A hand in his hair, the young man detached his mouth from his, kept his face close to his and exhaled great breaths of fresh air, eyes still closed. Encouraged by the expression of pure lust hanging on the face of his boyfriend, Eliott spent some adventurous fingers under the elastic of his wet boxer. God, he was so turned on... Restraining himself to make quicker moves to enjoy this moment of happiness, Eliott put his hand gently on his pubis and pressed it slightly. Keeping the tease, he moved his fingertips gently over his dick. His touches were very light and soft as he trailed his fingers up and down his already half hard penis.
"Eliott..." Lucas breathed. " Yes?” Eliott smiled, staring at him. That was how he thought he was the most beautiful. Open mouth in a rough breath, half-closed eyes revealing his dilated pupils, flushed cheeks. The most beautiful face the universe has ever created. And that face, this expression, only Eliott was allowed to enjoy it... This simple thought drove him crazy.
« Touch me... » Lucas moaned, almost pleading.
"But... That's what I'm doing right now actually...” Eliott answered in a clear voice, overplaying the dumbness. Lucas opened his eyes, stared in his boyfriend's grey eyes in a stern way and frowned.
"Stop teasing me.” He said in a threatening voice. "But it's so good..." Eliott smiled. Blowing painfully, Lucas poutted and rested his head against the clavicle of the young man. The latter, satisfied of his teases, used his hand to massage his inner thighs, brushed his balls and...
"For fuck sake! Eliott, will you stroke that fucking dick?!" Eliott burst out laughing, then, without any warning, he grabbed his dick, wrapped his fingers around it and pulled it out of his boxers. "Like that?” Eliott asked in a too naive voice. "Y... Yeah..." Lucas gasped. "Well... What do I do now?” Eliott wondered, a smirk on his face, looking at Lucas from the corner of his eye. He couldn't be fucking serious?! It wasn't the first time he gave him a handjob... No, he just made fun of him. "Well... I don't know... Handjob maybe?” Lucas replied ironically. "Yeah, indeed.” Eliott added, smiling, his hand still gripping Lucas's penis. "But how? Gentle? Twisting? Balls play or just the dick? Oh and the perineum? Should I play with it too? One hand? Two hands? Stroki... -I don't fucking care... " The young man whined, resting the back of his head against his chest. "But it's important Lucas! The way we do things is meaningful! I want you to understand what I'm feeling for you! -Listen Demaury... " Lucas cut short. "You give me that fucking handjob now and I swear, I'll give you the strongest orgasm you ever lived in your entire life. -You seem pretty confident... Maybe a little too much. -Don't play "who'se-the-pettiest" with me, Eliott... " Lucas's eyes were now sending lightnings into the young man's. The latter smiled, he stretched his neck and gently put his lips against those of his boyfriend. "Ok, ok, stop teasing..."
As Lucas was already pre-cumming, Eliott traced his fingertips around the head of his dick, spreading his precum across it. Using the milky liquid as a perfect lube, he made his fingers into a sort of claw and lowered his hand further down. Simply moving his hand up and down with a very light amount of pressure, he heared Lucas moaning of pleasure. Eliott rubbed his thumb over and back on the head of his warm and hard dick. As the young man's voice turned louder and louder, Eliott fastened his moves. He was now stroking him all the way, from the top to the bottom. The pleasure watery sounds matched perfectly with the songs of the cicadas. Lucas arched his back, craving for more and more frictions. Eliott, whose own dick was already very sensitive, lowered his left hand and massaged Lucas's balls. Cupping them in his hand, he played with them with his fingers.
Giving such a good time to his man was a big turn on for Eliott. As his right hand moved faster and harder on Lucas's dick, he lowered his face and bite his shoulder in order to refrain his own desire.
"S... Stop..." Lucas said suddenly in a hoarse voice. Blinded by so much lust, Eliott didn't hear his voice at first. "Eliott, stop..." Lucas repeated without making the slightest gesture to get away from the young man's grip. "Why?” Eliott complained without loosening or slowing the moves of his hand around Lucas's dick. "I... I don't wan't to... to cum right now..." The young man grumbled, his back arched, his eyes closed and his face burning with the upcoming orgasm. “Ok then stop me 'cause I'm unable to move away from your dick babe.” Eliott answered in his ear. A few seconds went by before Lucas, on a quick move, freed himself from his boyfriend's grasp. He sat with difficulty at his side and inhaled deep gulps of hot air, forcing himself to get down from the cloud of lust on which Eliott's talented hands had sent him. The latter, catching his breath as well, looked at him with delight and then straightened slightly against the trunk of the tree against which he was leaning. His hand wet of Lucas' precum, he wiped it gently against his own thigh.
"Why didn't you allowed me to make you cum?”  Eliott asked after a restful silence. Lucas turned his head, a small smirk on his lips. He stared at him for a long moment and then, with trembling legs, sat on the young man's knees. He placed his hands behind his neck and put his face close to his. "I want you to fuck me babe." Eliott looked at him with big round eyes. They had done it before, many times, and they both loved it. But they didn't have the habit of doing it regularly. This way of having sex required a long preparation to be good, contrary to what porn films show. Aroused as hell, Eliott and Lucas often lacked patience to get involved into long minutes of preparation before reaching the desired enjoyment.
Eliott, still staring into Lucas' blue eyes, ran his tongue on his lips. "With great pleasure, Mr. Lallemant... -Not here though, it's way too hot." The young man said, putting a small kiss at the corner of his boyfriend's lips. He got up and held out a hand to help him get up in his turn. Eliott grabbed it. "I follow you..." Both of them got back to the pleasant freshness of the house, Eliott hugging Lucas's back, his hands clasping his hips and his lips kissinf the back of his neck. Once inside of the old house, the two young men sighed with relief, the fresh air of the air conditioner coming to heal their skins burned by the Provençal sun. In a hurry, Eliott quickly headed to the bedroom. Not hearing Lucas's footsteps behind him, he turned around. The young man had stayed in the middle of the living room. His eyes raised to the ceiling, he rocked from one foot to the other, fanning his face with his hands. Eliott chuckled. "What are you doing? -I... I breathe a little. -What?? -Listen Eliott, I promised you the most powerful orgasm of your life.” Lucas replied, looking at him without any form of shyness. "Except that, if we go back right now, I gonna cum at the first of your touch and the result will be much less fun for you as for me." Eliott laughed and watched Lucas jiggling for a moment, his eyes lingering on his deformed boxer because of his hard dick. Lucas waved his hand. "Go ahead, I'll join you in a minute." He said.
Eliott came into the dark bedroom. Going to the window, he opened slightly the shutters. While doing this he allowed the sweltering heat to come into the room. Doesn't matter he thought, too keen to bring a little light to be able to better watch their two bodies melt one in the other. Once some sunlights settled in the room, he walked to his suitcase. Opening it in a hurry, he buried a hand inside. Searching between his clothes and some other stuffs with his fingers, he didn't immediately find the object he was looking for. Impatient, he took the bag, turned it over and dropped all its contents on the terracotta floor. Once his belongings were scattered on the ground, he got back to his quest. He searched for a long moment and then sighed in despair. Could he have forgotten it? No, no, it was too stupid... In a desperate move, he took the bag and searched in one of the small pockets he didn't usually use. Finally, and against all odds, his hand fell on the object. Relieved, he grabbed the little bottle of lube and the box of condoms and put them on his bedside table. He lay down on the bed and waited for Lucas to come back. The latter didn't take too long and entered the room a minute later. He leaned against the door he had just closed and bit his lip as he watched his man on their bed. "You and me Demaury!"
Going to the bed, Lucas lay down next to Eliott, put his lips to his and surrounded his waist with his thin but powerful arms. He kissed his mouth, his neck and his chest then licked his nipples while Eliott moaned loudly and arched his back under his hot mouth. Smiling, Lucas carressed his chest slowly and went down. His face in front of Eliott's crotch, he kissed briefly the tip of his half hard dick through the fabric, making Eliott whine for more. Still no removing the underpants, Lucas carressed his dick and his balls very slowly, very gently.He smiled when he heard Eliott losing patience. Pressing slightly on the area of his perineum, he kissed his tip again, very lightly.
« Putain Lucas... Skip the teasing part...
-Oh you don't like this game ?
-I'm serious babe, it's not a game for me.
-I'm serious too. » Lucas finally answered, kissing his groin.
Watching Eliott bitting his lips trying to refrain his complains was one of the most stunning things Lucas saw in his all life.
« Raise your hips. » He asked.
Eliott immediatly did and the young man took off his boxer and his own in same time. Lucas licked his inner tights for few seconds.
« I love you. » He whispered before getting a taste of his dick.
These words and the feeling of Lucas' mouth on him made Eliott's heart exploding. He lowered his arms down and put his hands in his hair. Gently holding the base of his penis in his right hand, Lucas used his tongue to slowly lick it from the base right to the tip. Then, curling his lips around his teeth, he put his mouth around his dick like if it was a popsicle. Doing all this, Lucas looked into Eliott's eyes. The latter moaned loudly again.
His tongue focusing on the top of his dick, Lucas' mouth went down and up and down and up. After a minute or two (Eliott has lost track of time), Lucas put one of his hand on his balls then touched the sensitive area just bellow and pushed gently on it.
Jumping, Eliott quickly got up in a laugh, sat down and lifted Lucas's head toward him, dragging him into a hurried kiss.
« You're way too talented, I almost came... » He said in his mouth.
« I think I'm in love with your dick... » Lucas smiled.
Eliott laughed.
« You dumb...
-I'm serious ! You taste sooo good.
-I want you so bad. » Eliott kissed him again, bitting his lower lip.
« I want you too. » Lucas whispered in his mouth, his eyes full of lust starring in his. « I want your lips, I want your tongue, I want your hands, I want your ass, I want your d...
-Ok, ok, now lie down and shut up. » Eliott interrupted him authoritatively, feeling a wave of strong desire hitting his belly. Lucas raised an amused eyebrow. "And the magic word then?" The young man sighed, at once exasperated, charmed and amused. "Please? -My pleasure!” Lucas exulted in a cheerful voice, settling comfortably on his back. "Now fuck me hard, will you?"
Eliott smiled again. He loved what they had been able to make towards their sex life after more than a year of relationship. Perfectly at ease with each other, the two young men didn't forbid anything unless they talked about it, having fun madly, they always loved to explore their bodies and their surprises. Each session was not necessarily a moment of intense passion but the fact was that everything was always very pleasant in the end.
Eliott bent down on Lucas. The latter felt his warm body on his and stopped breathing totally. Both of them were hard as hell. He opened his tights to rub his crutch against Eliott's and broke down.
« Fuck... I love you Eliott... » He whispered against his ear.
« Love you too babe. » The young man answered, kissing him.
Lucas put his hands on Eliott's nape, deepening their kiss, taking his mouth strongly.
After a few seconds of deep kiss, Eliott's mouth went down. Making small paterns with his tongue on his sensitive skin, he get on his knees and kissed Lucas' butts. Slowly, he started to rim him. Lucas focused on Eliott's tongue, making new patterns on his hole as he gradually relaxed. The young man quivered when he felt the tip of his tongue making quick taps. Removing his tongue, Eliott blew on his hole, making Lucas' body shivering.
Eliott rose up and took the lube bottle. He smeared his index finger with liquid and poured some on Lucas' hole too. The latter shuddered.
"That's cold ... -No enough to refresh your fire ass. -Fuck off!” Lucas laughed, giving a little kick on Eliott's shoulder. The young man, taking advantage of the opportunity, grabbed his ankle and put a little kiss on it.
« Can I ?
-Go ahead. »
Eliott, with slow and tender moves, put one first finger in Lucas' butt. The latter couldn't help but tighed up his hole. It wasn't even painful yet but the penetration of something (or someone) in his butt felt always strange at first for Lucas. He still was just at the start of his sex life, he was still a beginner so he hadn't quiet learn how to relax and open up at command but he knew that Eliott was here to help him with this task.
« Relax, breathe deep and slowly... » The young man whispered as he added more lube on the hole and his finger. As he felt Lucas' butt loosing up a bit, he started to slightly move his finger inside him.
Lucas shut his eyes, struggling to relax. Eliott knew that his finger inside him wasn't a very nice feeling for him but he had to do it in order to give him, a bit later, all the pleasure he deserved. When he felt the hole totally relaxed, he put some more lube everywhere and on another of his fingers. He kissed gently his inner tigh.
« Now Lucas you have to tell me everything you feel, ok ? You're the boss, you're the one who tell me what to do...
-Yeah... » The young man answered, opening his eyes to stare in Eliott's loving ones.
« I'll put another finger, ok ?
-Yeah. »
Slowly, Eliott inserted a second finger. Lucas grimaced and opened his mouth in a silent cry. This fucking finger was hurting. Once fully inside, Eliott remained motionless.
« Babe, you okay ? » He asked, his eyes up on him.
« It... It hurts.
-I know, the pain won't last. Relax, baby, it's ok. » Eliott said, kissing his groin and stroking lightly Lucas' penis with his free hand.
After a minute or two, Lucas managed to relax.
« Move. »
Eliott started to do as Lucas told him when the latter's voice stopped him.
« Lube ! More lube Eliott ! »
Smiling, so happy to see that his boyfriend trusted him enough to keep speaking to him threw all their sex time, Eliott grabbed the bottle and poured some more lube on his fingers and Lucas' butt. He put back the bottle next to them.
« Okay ? » He asked, staring into the young man's blue eyes.
The latter nodded. Eliott bent down again, kissed his belly button and put his head against his contracted belly.
He started to move his fingers, in and out, very slowly at first, then, feeling Lucas more and more relaxed, he fastened his moves. After a minute, Eliott pushed one another finger into his entrance. Lucas put a hand against his mouth to stop a cry of pleasure. Eliott swallowed heavily at the sound Lucas made. He looked up and whatched his flush face.
« You're beautiful. » Eliott said, still moving his fingers inside Lucas' hole.
The latter arched into the touch and moaned.
« Enough, enough... » Lucas panted softly as he watched down Eliott.
« You sure ? » He asked, not wanting to rush things.
« Babe I want you now. » Lucas purred.
A gutural growl escaped Eliott's throat. « How do you want me to... » He started to ask. The younger boy didn't let him finish his sentence.
« I want to be on top. » He said.
Eliott pulled his fingers out, making Lucas whining softly. He rolled over and laid on his back.
Smiling and aroused as hell, Lucas stended a bit and climbed on Eliott's pelvis. Feeling their two crotches brushing, they moaned together. Starring into the beautiful eyes of Eliott, Lucas bent over and kissed his lips.
«  I never wanted someone like I want you... » He whispered shamelessly before reaching over and grabbing one condom. « Fucking sexiest man ever... » He muttered as he put it on Eliott's erection. He took the lube bottle and quickly smoothed some of the oily liquid on Eliott's dick before dropping the bottle on the side.
Slowly, he put a hand on Eliott's chest and, with his other hand, grabbed Eliott's erection and led it to his entrance. Feeling Lucas slowly pressing his butts against his dick, Eliott gasped. He struggled to remain motionless. He shut his eyes tightly, forcing himself to calm down for a bit. Lucas was in charge, he has to wait for him to feel comfortable enough before he could move as he needed. The tip of his erection was now inside the young man. Eliott opened his eyes and almost came because of the sight of his man. Lucas's body was fully stretched. On his face could be read an intense expression of concentration. His mouth was open and his eyebrows were frowning on his closed eyes. Fuck... He was stunning but he looked struggled too. He was, obviously, trying to sit on his dick but couldn't quiet making yet.  
Eliott put a gentle hand on his hip and called him back to him.
« Lucas... Lucas, hey, Baby... »
The young man opened his glossy eyes and stared into his.
« No rush babe, relax.
-I... I can't... Fuck... You're... Just... Stupid dick... I... »
Eliott laughed and tried to relax himself for not thrusting into him as he was craving for.
« Lucas... Love, you can do it and if not, it doesn't matter at all. Just... Do what you wanna do. Relax, breathe slowly... » He said in a loving smile. Remaining motionless, as difficult as it was, Eliott stretched his arm to grab the lube and poured some more on the junction of their two bodies. Then, he put his hand on Lucas' stomach. « Focus on my hand, breathe slowly with your belly. »
Lucas shut his eyes again and took a deep breath. As he relaxed a bit, his body went lowered on Eliott's erection. The latter groaned.
« Fuck... Lucas, that feels good... »
Encouraged by his boyfriend's pleasure, Lucas felt better. Opening his mouth, he relaxed more and more, letting the dick entered his butt. As he went lowered, he arched his back and put his hands on Eliott's legs. Feeling so exposed was overwhelming. With Eliott, he wasn't shy, he was the only human being who was able to see him that way and he loved that thought. Without really realising it, he was sitted totally on Eliott's erection.
« Oh God babe, that's...
-That's what ? » Lucas asked in a tiny voice, short breath. If the feeling of having a dick inside him wasn't very painful anymore, it was still so strange.
« That's... Awesome... »
Satisfied, Lucas started to move his hips slowly. Seeing some stars, Eliott moaned Lucas' name.
« Fuck, Lucas I need to move...
-No, don't. » Lucas said.
The young man sighed and nods reluctantly. Smiling and feeling bossy as hell, Lucas blew a kiss to him. He kept moving very slowly for a while, ajusting his hole to the young man. Then, as he felt fully relaxed, he took hold on Eliott's hips to tilt them to the angle he wanted, get nearly out and then sat back quickly.
Lucas did it again and again, establishing a rythme that wasn't very fast. Without noticing, Eliott started to thrust, lifting his hips against Lucas' body, keeping his eyes on his pretty smutty face. Eyes shut, flushed cheeks and with sweat slicking his hair, the young boy was more beautiful than ever. Feeling one harder thrust, Lucas let a scream escape from his lips before putting a hand on his mouth.
« You... You can be loud... In here... Baby. » Eliott panted.
« I... I'm not used to... » Lucas answered, dancing on Eliott's hips.
« Let it out... »
Lucas was riding him hard now. As he screamed Eliott's name louder and louder, the latter felt the urge to cum soon growing inside his belly.
« You feel so good... I... I wont last long...
-No, no, no... You have to wait for me.
-Then touch yourself ! »
Lucas opened his big round eyes and stared into Eliott's as he started to jerk himself off. Perfectly overwhelmed by this sight, Eliott sat up quickly and put his face into Lucas' neck.
« I love you... That's fucking good... » He whispered.
Moving their hips together on the same rythm, Lucas threw his head back.
« Deeper... Deeper... Deeper... » He sang in a raspy voice.
But Eliott, sitted like this with him on his laps couldn't thrust deeper obviously.
« You want me deeper inside you uh ?
-Yes ! Yes Eliott...
-I know a way.
-Do it ! »
Lucas was shameless and could be pretty impatient in bed, Eliott loved him this way too.
Eliott pulled his dick off of Lucas' butts.
« Get on your knees. » He said.
The young man moved fast. He was now kneeling on the bed, butt in the air and was facing the wall.
« What now ? » Lucas smiled, watching Eliott behind his back.
The latter put another condom and slicked his dick with more lube. Panting hardly, he pressed his firm belly to Lucas' butts.
« Now I fuck you baby, as you asked me... »
Lucas panted out, wanting Eliott back into him. Not wasting one more second Eliott moved, and quickly thrust into Lucas letting out a low grunt as he did so. He stayed still for a moment to let the young man ajust again. He leaned down and bite a familir spot on Lucas' shoulder. Lucas threw his head back, yelling Eliott's name. He moved his hips back slowly
« M... move ».
Eliott started to get his dick off Lucas' ass. The latter moaned and pushed back against him. Eliott laughed loudly.
« Babe... To push in, I have to push back first... »
Then he started a steady deep thrust, rolling his hips and building up a slow rythm. He was sweet and tender, thinking about Lucas' pleasure before his own. He angled his hips managing to brush against his prostate then he quickened his thrusts. He ran his hands down the other's sides until he gripped onto his hips. His eyes closed in pleasure, Lucas opened his lips.
« Yes ! Yes, just like that ! Don't fucking stop ! »
Eliott was now nailing lucas' prostate on every thrusts in and the most delicious noises were falling from his mouth.
« Putain... Lucas ! »
He pounded endlessly.
« El... Eli... Pull my hair.
-Putain... Lu... Lucas you're... Ah !... so hot ! » Eliott panted, immediatly obeying and grabbing Lucas' hair in his hand, throwing his head a bit more back. « I... Fuck... I gonna cum... »
Lucas, moaning out loud, pleaded him to wait for himself.
« I... I can't, That's... Too much... » Eliott answered, slowing down a bit in order to stop the orgasm growing inside his whole body.
Lucas arched his back.
« Don't even think to stop Eliott ! »
After a few seconds, Lucas felt Eliott's hand on his own erection. He started to stroke it. It was magical, Lucas reached a strong orgasm very quickly. Screwing his eyes shut, mouth falling open, he came with only one word on his lips : « Eliott » ! As his body get tight around Eliott's dick, the latter fastened his thrusts and came inside him.
They collapsed on the matress, Eliott against Lucas' back. They stayed there for minutes, unable to make any move. And then Eliott rolled out of Lucas, threw the condom away, grabbed a tissue and cleaned some of Lucas' mess on the matress.
He laid on his back and opened his arm. Lucas put his head on his sweaty chest and kissed it.
« I love you so much Lucas Lallemant... » Eliott whispered, his fingers caressing his hair.
« I love you too Eliott Demaury. » The young man answered, his own fingers drawing some small paterns on Eliott's stomach.
« You didn't lie to me.
-About what ? » Lucas asked.
« About one of the best orgasm of my life.
-One of ? » The young boy grimaced, standing on his elbows, staring at Eliott, his brows arching in surprise.
« Well... As you know, I had plenty sexual experiences and... » Eliott smirked.
« You fucking moron! » Lucas grumbled giving him a little blow on the chest. Laughing out loud, Eliott pulled him in his arms. The young man tried to fight back but eventually had to give up on the strength of his boyfriend. He rested his chest against his, his face buried in his neck.
« I'm just kidding, you're the best... » Eliott breathed kissing his messy hair.
“You're not so bad either... » Lucas replied.
« Not so bad uh ? » Eliott said before smiling. « Ok... Fair enough... »
Lucas smiled back and kissed his neck.
And that was just the beguinning of some fantastic summer holidays...
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neurotic-symbiotic · 5 years
Text
Leopardmom: Find Solace
There were dreams and then there were moments relived and retold through images briefly fluttered through the mind. In this case it seemed all too real to be a dream.
The weight of the satchel around her neck and looped around her sides held a familiar weight. The round, silver canteen bounced and its contents sloshed around inside. Bumping against her left shoulder with every pad of her feet as she followed the sounds of laughter and the nuisances she learned to tolerate.
At the nearing of the forest clearing four trolls, including her own, sparred and played their harmless FLARPing session. A bronze, two gold, a green and her cubling teal. In his piloting getup and the others in their pirates and vagabond gear. Watching from her perch among the trees, lazily her gaze followed them as they replayed the same stories over and over. Just children at play. She was so proud of him, his teal eyes already coming in and he was as sharp as can be.
Like a bludgeoning shadow the first of many Purples stepped out from the trees. And like a scene played in slow motion it was the bronze blood that was given the mercy of first kill. It was quick, none saw it coming as his head was bashed in with a single blow of a spiked club. The horrified screams of the others as they fled only helped the Highbloods follow them.
She barely lunged from her resting spot before a rope was wrapped taunt around her neck and air was choked from her lungs. Screaming in rage as she lost sight of her boy.
He escaped, she thought, she pleaded. Turning her head and baring her teeth, swiping at the assailants that managed to get the drop on her. A pair of purples, their faces smeared with white paint and splattered with numerous other colors that were still drying. But the true horror came in the pitiful wails of her cub.
Turning her attention for just a moment to watch as the yellow bloods and green were being corralled back toward the woods were the first clown sighting had been. And tucked under the arm of a towering beast of a troll was her little one. He was crying out for her and she needed to free him. She needed to-
Waking to the sounds of sobbing and pain filled moans, she looked over her shoulder. There was no longer the comforting weight of the satchel around her shoulders. Instead a rope still tied around her neck and peeking through iron bars of a cage built on wheels. A prisoner alone. Across from her were several more cages. Others filled with creatures and some stuffed with trolls.
And the wind was filled with the smell of blood.
There was no way to pinpoint of which color, the ground was stained all around them. And recognition hit her when the towering flaps of the Circus Tent snapped in the wind and caught her attention. Alarm bells ran in her head and she panicked. Natural instincts told her to escape and flee far from here. A greater instinct told her she needed to find him first.
In one of the many cages she found him, after pacing and studying each rolling cell. He sat among the remainder of his friends. When he noticed her there was an overwhelming sense of relief for just a moment. Then reality set in.
For the next few hours she did all in her power to get herself free. Slamming her body against the bars, breaking two fangs on the metal and mangling her claws as she raked at the wood. Giving up when her body had nothing left to give. The moons setting and the sun starting to rise in the sky.
Then the music started to play. Music that covered up the sounds of torturous screams and boisterous laughter from within the cloth-lined walls of the Clowns personal hell on Alternia. And then she watched, helpless and exhausted, when they came for her boy. Struggling to her feet while they marched them out, small groups at a time, into the tent. Lowbloods, midbloods, a highblood or two. Anything they said fell on deaf ears. Some with empty expressions as they came to term with their fate.
But not her boy, not him. He bite and clawed and cried out for her to save him. How could she abandon him?
Charging the bars of her cage over and over, bones cracking under each blow. Reaching fruitlessly between the unrelenting metal. Their captors's laughter forever etched into her mind. When she couldn't move she screamed and roared and called out for him.
The blazing hot sun was just as merciless as the Juggalo's. The intense heat baking those in the metal cages. She lay there, crawling into the shade when it would come. Tired, lost, hopeless. She remembered finally falling asleep but it was restless and empty. When the sun finally set and the moons rose she woke to hear more of the trolls being dragged away and several of the other beasts brought along with them. Soon she too would be dragged into that darkness like the others.
It was a quiet few hours after sunset. Just the warped music playing from the big top and the whispering of wind whipping through the bars of her cage. And just then her keen ears picked up something more. Muffled but audible to her. Standing up and slowly pacing the small confines of her cell she saw two trolls break through the forest line. Older ones, by the looks of it. Not highblood.
They spoke in hushed voices but she didn't understand. She watched as they fiddled with the lock to her cage and some hope filled her chest. But they were also foreign, not her cub. She would strike if need be but the green one touched her and filled her with a sort of understanding that she recoiled from at first. Their langue, first like nonsensical rattles, became coherent. She understood and she learned.
From there the memories are fuzzy. There was blood and there great pain. The image of her cold and lifeless boy still haunted her. The pain that blossomed in her chest and rolled down her eyes were still fresh. She failed in her duty to protect him. She failed to keep him alive.
When it all became too unbearable she felt two hands on her face. They were warm and loving and wonderful. It was not the red one. It was not the green one. Her boy, skin ghostly pale and eyes a much too light shade of teal, smiled at her. He leaned down to press his forehead against hers, the weight was barely there but she felt it! It was real. She chased the feeling by pressing her face against him harder, her chest rumbling in a deep purr.
"You did good ma." His voice was oddly hallow as if speaking from another room. While he smiled at her his image began to fade.
A sudden loud *thunk* startled her from her dream. Leopardmom's eyes opened and her gaze jumped around the room. It was morning still as she could tell from the faint light filtering through the closed shades. The sound that woke her sounded again and she stood. Lingering parts of the dream still clung to her and for a moment she could still smell him. Her boy had been here, but how?
Padding out of the room that she made her own she followed the troublesome sound that drew her down the hall and toward a small hole in the ceiling. Again the sound but this time she caught the little flash of fur scuttling about. A few minutes of waiting and watching rewarded her with a furry intruder caught in her teeth. Revenge accomplished for the creature that woke her from her dream too soon.
Come.
A voice beckoned her.
"Come." It spoke again. This time it drew her out of the room and toward the window. Tentatively she nudged the blinds open and felt the heat of the sun on her face. Then it was gone. Looking up she saw the towering figure known to those that lived in this hive as Buzzarddad.
Grateful for the cover she continued to follow the invisible coaxing up till she she had climbed up into the treetop along side the much larger and much boner lusus. The nest he called home was built into the trees just above the treehouse. His wing folded outward to give Leopardmom some cool shade to which she happily accepted. Dropping the dead nutbeast and settled down.
Now while the two lusus coexisted they rarely interacted. While nothing was said between them, not a click or a rumble, she knew he was the cause of her dream. She understood that much. In the deep, burning jade eyes of his she wondered what else he could do. Tilting her head to look at him better, wondering if the dream was real. If he had something to do with it. And why all this trouble?
It's lonely up here, was the quiet answer to a silent question.
Quietly leopardmom understood the answer and curled up beneath his thick white plumage. It was just a few more hours till nightfall. They wouldn't miss her too badly. She would offer him company, she owed him that much.
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stagekiller · 5 years
Text
plotted starter // @chumpchxnge
 🃏 — The Red Lounge lives up to its name.
   Crimson corridors & flashy neon lights paint an atmosphere that may have jumped out of a mystery novel or some modern day reprise of Dante’s Inferno. Burrowed in gloomy city streets, it shines as a red beacon of DESPAIR, some long history haunting it lost in the years & murmurs around Gotham’s underbelly. Scarlet leather booths surround a busy stage, orchestrated by the soft hues of an acoustic guitar; some noir vibed spanish rendition of ‘black magic woman’.
   As much as freckled ears long to sit back and enjoy a cider by the bar - pleasures Jerome Valeska learned to appreciate after sustaining a broken ribcage - there is work to be done. And as per usual, all the juicy work takes place in the BACK.
   Charts were acquired prior to his unscheduled & unexpected visit. How ironic; the back of the house was but a giant maze. His informant had joked about needing a guide, at which the ante was upped as an offer. Said guide now lingered as a centerpiece in the owner's well-barricaded quarters; mouth cracked open in a hideous curve, a grin. In dim light, the bloody trails down his jaws resembled spiderlegs. They'd ceased to drip about twenty minutes ago & the blood pooling in his mouth had gone stiff and stale. A little GIFT to make up for the mess the jester left around her office while he rummaged for information. Perhaps he didn't succeed in finding any hidden weapons - the owner was bound to have a few tucked away to reach for at times like this, but his recklessness compelled him to sink his hips into her office chair regardless.
   A vase of flowers had been knocked over upon impact with dark leather brogues, water dripping off mahogany and its contents sprawled on the floor beside the unlucky - but aspiring - thug. Gloved figertips caressed a folder, an all too familiar name gracing its cover. He couldn’t deny that, albeit satisfied to have found it among the abundance of files kept in this dreary office, the label had lavished his mouth with BITTERNESS. And browsing through its contents didn’t help the mood.
   The owner’s entrance would find him comfortably seated in her desk, browsing through that same file & occasionally scribbling something with a borrowed pen. Disturbance didn’t seem to alarm the clown at first - almost as if he hadn’t noticed her come in. But these mischievous emeralds snapped up to greet her form soon enough, face distorting in comical surprise upon eye-contact.
“ Oh, right- ” A humorous flare conveyed by his raised eyebrows. Long legs slide off of her office and land heavily on the floor, the Mad Clown rolling in his seat with a soft groan - that may have betrayed how hard the superficially swift movement had been on his injured abdomen. Folder is dumped on the table & hands press down on its surface as he leans forward with a raspy —
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 “ Boo. ” Holding his stance for a moment longer, maniacal cackles GARGLE up ravaged chords and resonate through his aching chest, tainted with wheezes &  a faint whistling in his lungs. 
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micycle--wheeler · 6 years
Text
It Always Gets Stranger
Mike’s family is going to Maine for the summer. Sometimes, things take a turn for the worst.
CHAPTER 8
read on ao3
read chapter 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, ch 6, ch 7
words: 2153
MIKE was scared out of his mind. Demodogs don’t just pop up out of nowhere in the middle of Maine, and they especially don't float balloons and turn into clowns.
Mike still had this stewing in his mind as he laid in his sleeping bag that night, staring at the ceiling with little planet stickers stuck to it. Pretty soon, thoughts mixed into dreams, and unluckily for Mike, dreams always seemed way more realistic.
Mike typically had dreams, especially bad ones, after the incidents from the previous two Novembers. It was as if his mind was still stuck in those terrifying weeks, brewing on past events that his unconscious had taken custody of.
This one was his most haunting one, of course. Maybe his thoughts had zeroed in on demodogs, and his mind had acted accordingly.
He was standing in a locked room, horrible noises sounding from behind the wooden door, shrieks of pain and the cries of monsters echoing down the expansive hallways. Now, that’s bad enough, hearing pain and torture and creatures feeding, but the wall was filled with cameras of the entire building, and Mike winced as he watched one of the demodogs rip into a soldier, and he tore his eyes away from the gruesome image.
This then led his line of sight to the boy laid casually on the table, looking like he was sleeping peacefully, like he wasn’t screaming five minutes before, like he wasn’t possessed by a horrifying monster, worse than a million demodogs.
Bob and Hopper were talking about basic, and Mike found his lips moving around the words.
“It’s a computer programming system,” he had said, although he didn’t remember if those were the exact words he said. He watched as Bob walked out of the room, into the Labyrinth of haunting horrors, and Mike shut his eyes and tried to tune everything out.
He knew what happened next, and he hated it. He hated it beyond the word hate, he hated seeing this same scene, over and over in his mind. He hated the yelling, the screaming, the snarl and roar of the dogs, he hated the pound of claws on thick glass and he hated that one second of dread that seemed to last a lifetime where he thought that he wouldn’t make it. That Hop and Joyce and Will and Mike would be on the ground, torn to shreds like the man inside, blood spilling out of their bodies, creatures clawing at their ribs and faces like some demented flower, exposing rows and rows of teeth lowering down on their abdomens—
Mike’s eyes snapped open, gasps of breath escaping his lungs as if he had run a mile. He sat up, his eyes scanning the room. His heart rate slowed as he scanned over the faces of his sleeping friends, peacefully snoring away.
He let out a sigh of relief and layed back down, although it was much longer before sleep took him again. He didn’t dream again that night.
The next morning, Lucas crawled out of bed to find Dustin pulling on his shoes, a backpack slung over his shoulder.
“What are you doing?” Lucas asked groggily, still half asleep. “It's like eight AM.”
Dustin glanced at his watch. “It's noon, you idiot. I’m going to the library. Ben told me he’ll show me all of the books when we were at the quarry yesterday.”
Lucas rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as Dustin proceeded to finish putting his left shoe on and walk out the door. He walked over to Max, who was watching Will draw a dragon.
“You think he's okay?” he asked, his eyes darting to the door where Dustin once stood. They'd never seen him act like this, even when he was horribly lying about the demodog that ate his cat.
“I don't know,” Max admitted. “And honestly, I don’t—”
“What do you mean ‘Bowie’s better than Elton John?’” They all jumped as they heard Mike yell from the kitchen. “Give me one song that David Bowie has made that’s better than Elton John!”
Will sighed, setting his pencil down on his sketchbook and dropping it on the couch. “I’ll be right back.” He padded into the kitchen, and Max and Lucas watched him leave. His voice floated into the living room. “Why don't we all agree that they're both great artists?”
“Because this fucking idiot is saying that Elton John could be better than David Bowie!”
“Because he is! Right, Will?”
“Umm…”
They heard Mike dramatically gasp. “You traitor!” Lucas and Max covered their mouths to stifle their laughter, a feat that they epically failed at as Will spluttered, trying to defend himself.
Ben was in the library, thumbing through a thick book, when Dustin’s watch beeped.
“Oh shit, it's already five. I told my friends I’d be back by now.”
“Oh, okay,” Ben looked up as the boy walked out of the library, a gust of air filling the room, blasting his blond hair out of his face. He kept staring where the wild-haired boy used to stand, the books he was looking at still lying open on the table.
He was startled out of his trance as a heavy book slammed next to him. He looked around the room, only an elderly woman and a tall black boy scanning through the shelves.
“Here’s that book you asked for,” the librarian said, her hand still placed on the front of the thick book. Ben reached for it, but apparently she wasn't done talking. “Where’d that other boy go? He was nice.” Ben stayed silent. “Boy your age, you should be outside. It’s summer. Don’t you have any friends?”
“Can I just have the book please?” The librarian fixed her glasses and walked off, letting out a snippy little “hmph.” The truth was, none of Ben’s other friends liked reading, so he typically spent his hours in the library alone. He liked it that way anyway, because how would he be able to read with the loud chatter that his friends always had floating around with them?
He pulled the book closer to him, its gold pressed title shining bright against the blue bindings. A History of Old Derry, it read as he turned to the center of the book.
He flipped through the shiny pages, covered in black and white photographs with captions. One picture of huge chopped-down trees was captioned Sawmill worker at the FAA cooperative sawmill.
He kept turning pages until one specific one caught his eye. Easter Egg Hunt celebration at the Derry Iron Works, 1908. The picture displayed what looked like a performance of sorts, a box with a smiling clown face on the side of it, a dancing clown said to be inside. The picture on the next page showing kids lined up with their find, easter eggs clutched in hands and resting in baskets.
Ben was surprised when the next picture was of a newspaper clipping, the haunting title stating EASTER EXPLOSION KILLS 88 CHILDREN, 102 TOTAL. On the next page showed bodies on the ground, looking too small. Ben sucked in a breath, his lungs feeling tight against his rib cage.
The next page was even worse. A gruesome discovery in the wake of the Derry Iron Works explosion, 1908, a picture, showing crowded around under a twisted tree. Ben turned the page, not wanting to see what was in the tree.
But strangely, the next page was the same picture. It was zoomed in closer to what was in the tree. He kept turning the page, two times more, three, eight times more, but it was still the picture. Ben had a gross twisting feeling in his gut as he realized what was in those branches.
Turning the page one last time, he closed the book with a loud slam as he laid his eyes on the photograph.
A severed head lay between the fork of a branch, the boy looking no older than ten years old. If it wasn't for the blood covering his face and the lack of a body, he could have looked as if he were sleeping. Ben’s breathing was heavy, and he faintly registered the sound of a door closing as the black boy left.
His eyes turned to the newspaper lying next to the other books, today’s paper. Body found by canal, not Betty Ripsom. Ben closed his eyes and tries to swallow down the feeling of needing to puke.
His heartbeat sped up rapidly by the sound of a little girl’s laughter, and music, that of which that would come from a jewelry box with a ballerina dancing in it, sounded from behind him. It seemed off key, like a beat too slow, and he turned around.
Floating there, as if pulled along by an invisible force, a bright red balloon drifted in the air, not unlike one that you would find in the circus. It drifted into an open doorway, the music tinkling quietly, as if to say come, follow me, you need me. As if he himself was pulled magnetically to the sound, Ben got up out of his chair and followed it into a narrow hallway, filled with boxes.
Perched on the top of the three steps up sat an egg. But not  just any egg, no, an Easter egg, its colorful painting saying congratulations, you found me! Ben walked over to it. The back of it was charred, and it was still smoking slightly. As if escaping an explosion. Ben shuddered at the thought.
He looked up, and there, sitting at the end of the hallway, perfectly upright, was another egg. And just down that room, another one! Ben kept following them, down a staircase and then down another. Maybe they’re showing me something, Ben thought excitedly, and he ran down a staircase to get to another.
Now, Ben wasn't a superstitious kid to say the least. He didn't believe in ghosts, or demons, or omens. He didn’t even believe in Santa, not even when he was an innocent little five year-old full of wonder. But he followed the eggs, as if they had little voices speaking to him, saying in cheerful tones follow me! Right this way! Come on, you’re almost there!
The final egg was in the basement, matching the others in its brightly colored-ness and the charred bits. Ben picked it up and looked around, as if to expect someone to pop out and announce he'd won a million dollars.
But no, there was only Ben and some boxes.
The lights flickered, and Ben walked forward as the sound of children’s laughter seemed to come from another aisle of boxes. He thought he saw movement as the lights turned off completely, the only light that of which shining from the large window on the landing and the buzzing exit sign above the doorway.
The sound of feet tromping down stairs was heard, and Ben went to move behind a post, thinking, This is it! This must be what the eggs were leading me to. He waited with bated breath as shoes appeared down the stairway, old-fashioned looking and worn.
Ankles twisted as the child kept stumbling down the stairs, a handful of eggs clutched in its arms. Its shoulder were visible, and then its neck, and then… nothing. Ben felt his mouth get dry as the headless child’s eggs fell from its arms as it reached the basement floor. It stopped for a second, and, as if it had eyes, turned its head toward Ben, who was still clumsily hiding behind a support post.
Then, impossibly fast, it rushed forward towards Ben, and he stumbled backwards.
Ben was never the fastest kid, and his breathing grew heavier as he heard the sound of footsteps getting closer.
He looked behind him, and the sight made him run faster, down an aisle and up another, overturning boxes and tripping over his own shoes. The child kept advancing, its arms twisted grotesquely and movements jerky, the neck smoking as it moved along like a puppet on strings.
“Eggboy!” a voice called, gruff and garbled. Ben turned to look where the voice came from, almost stopping to see. A creature rushed out from behind the aisle of boxes, a frilly collar with a clown’s head resting on top of it, blood red lips and lines leading up its face, eyes rolled back into its head.
Ben almost screamed as he ran into someone, but upon seeing that it was only the librarian, he felt himself exhale.
“What on earth are you doing?” she demanded, but Ben was still looking around the room, searching for headless children and/or clowns. “You’re not allowed down here, you do know that, Mister Hanscom!” Upon seeing nothing, Ben rushed wordlessly past the aging woman, stepping up the stairs two at a time and welcoming in the sunlight.
//
@kastlekaspbrak
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aticklishtem · 6 years
Text
Something to Laugh About
((welp so~ I’m pretty new to writing this kinda thing but this Concept wouldn’t leave me alone, so I decided to give it a shot and yeah, maybe someone else will also enjoy this self indulgent trash pile, idk \o/ any kind of feedback is always welcome!!))
For a dame who made, employed, lived in and was even made out of so much candy, that Baroness Von Bon Bon could be an awful sourpuss.
In fact, Beppi wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her truly smile, and it sure wasn’t for lack of trying. Nothing filled his heart with more joy than a genuine, honest-to-goodness smile - the kids whose faces lit up with excitement when he handed them another of his balloon animal menagerie, the crowds who came by his tent to watch him willingly make a fool of himself, his fellow carnival workers and isle-dwellers, he treasured every single smirk, chuckle, giggle and reluctant grimace. Way back before he’d so much as dabbed the first lick of paint on his nose, Beppi had made it his mission to bring a smile to the faces of all of Inkwell, and he was proud to say that so far he had an almost perfect track record. Almost.
The Baroness’ place was over the other side of town, but the isle was small and even she had to venture outside to peddle her wares, so Beppi and Bon Bon had crossed paths plenty. Often enough that it seemed like he’d tried everything - his best jokes, his worst jokes, the pie gag, the seltzer, the banana peel, even his killer impressions of Djimmi and Wally and Grim and anyone else he could think of - to see her lips so much as twitch, but she still just looked at him like he was a piece of taffy stuck to her shoe.
Beppi wasn’t quite as much of a fool as he acted - he knew she fancied herself above him, above all of their colourful corner of carnival. She turned her nose up at their hot dogs and candy corn, declaring that her confectioneries were made with only the finest ingredients Inkwell had to offer, and she couldn’t imagine why anyone would opt to shovel all that greasy garbage down their throat instead. But he hadn’t gotten to where he was by giving up easy - it was that dogged determination that had coaxed chuckles out of some of Inkwell’s grumpiest inhabitants, after all. And it would’ve been too tragic just to let them all carry on their way, stomping through town so sour-faced: he couldn’t imagine anything worse than a life of stony silence. Laughter was Beppi’s lifeblood, long before it had been his living; it filled him up, made him feel big and shiny and swell like a balloon (metaphorically and sometimes literally) until he could just about burst, in the best way. He wanted - no, he needed to spread the joy all over town, all over Inkwell, every way he knew how, and remain hopeful that it’d prove just as infectious as it was irresistible, even for the sourest of pusses.
He was optimistic for another day of sunshine and smiles, during a brief break in the afternoon’s frivolities to relax under the shade of one of the colourful parasols in the square. Beppi had been in the middle of telling Djimmi all about yesterday’s unfortunate yet hilarious incident involving an overzealous balloon giraffe and a fruit hat when Bon Bon shimmied into view.
Without missing a beat, he broke off into a comical double take, and then figured he might just as well fall out of his chair in shock that the esteemed Baroness had seen fit to grace them with her presence. Djimmi just shook his head fondly, long used to his friend’s antics; Bon Bon opted to ignore Beppi entirely as she and Djimmi exchanged polite greetings, simply manoeuvre around him like a colourful puddle as she took the chair on the other side.
Typically tough crowd, but Beppi was prepared for that - and he had a good feeling about today, the fact that Bon Bon had willingly descended from her fancy castle to mingle with the common folk suggesting she might be in a good mood, or at least not quite as much of a sourball as usual. If he could pull just the right rib-tickler out of his hat, maybe she’d even -
Hot dawg - Beppi had to glance up to check if someone hadn’t lobbed a lightbulb right over his head as he scrambled back upright, because had he just been hit with a doozy of an idea.
“Hey, hey, Bonnie.” Beppi leaned in closer to her, his usual ear-to-ear grin turning just a tad more mischievous than usual as he nudged at her elbow. “Gotta question for ya.”
Bon Bon turned to him with a long-suffering sigh, her eyebrows knitting together as though it pained her even to look at him. “What do you want? And don’t call me that.”
“My sincerest of apologies, Baroness.” Beppi just managed to resist putting on his snootiest voice in response as he bowed and tipped his hat - he was happy to humour her this time, since her hoity-toity act would only make his eventual victory all the sweeter. “Aaaanyway. How many tickles does it take to make an octopus laugh?”
“I neither know, not care to -“
“Ten-tickles!” he popped the punchline gleefully, sliding an arm around her waist and squeezing before she could get away. “One!” He felt her jump a little at the unexpected contact, but no giggles followed; undeterred, he kept it up, searching for a sweet spot with a few pokes to her ribs. “Two!” Still nothing: Bon Bon was just staring at him like he was doing something utterly ridiculous - which, in all (fun)fairness, was kinda what he was always doing. But this was getting weird, and not the fun kind - was this woman made of rock candy? “Three..?” Faltering for just a moment, he scribbled his fingers across her midsection and finally she reacted - but not how Beppi had hoped, as she seized his wrist and pushed him roughly away.
“Get off! What in the world do you think you’re…” Bon Bon’s big doe eyes widened even further, her eyebrows shooting up as realisation dawned. “Oh, I see - you were trying to tickle me, weren’t you?” Before Beppi could protest his innocence, she scoffed, tossing her chocolate curls. “Tough luck, Chuckles - you won’t get me to crack with such a cheap trick. Hmm, but I wonder…” Something almost in the vicinity of a smile slowly spread across her face, and it was more than a little unsettling, sharp as the glimmer of an idea in her eye as she glanced Beppi up and down, drumming her dainty fingers on the tabletop, and - whoops, he might’ve bitten off a tad more than he could chew after all.  “Perhaps someone else around here just might?”
“Ah - heh…” A nervous chuckle escaped as Beppi edged slowly away from her, until his back bumped against Djimmi’s broad chest and he pounced on the potential distraction. “Oooh - you talking about Djimbo here? He’s plenty ticklish - just watch this…”
Before he could attack, though, two strong arms shot out and grasped his noodly ones. Beppi let out an outraged squawk of protest as Djimmi effortlessly held him captive. “Hey - what gives…?”
“I’m sorry, my friend,” Djimmi replied with a shrug and such a grand-piano grin Beppi was surprised his pants didn’t burst into flame, “but, as karma dictates, what goes around…”
“Well said.” Bon Bon nodded, her gaze positively predatory now as it lingered on Beppi’s now-compromising position; a bundle of nervous butterflies fluttered in his belly as she took a few steps closer. “I’m glad to hear someone around here has some respect - putting your greasy paws all over royalty like that? Why, I could have you executed. But…” She paused, actually licking her candy-heart lips as they twisted into a sadistic smirk, and with the slightest wiggle of her fingers Beppi knew he was done for. “I can think of something more fun.”
“N-nohohow, Bonnie, no need to be too hasteeheeheehee…!” Giggles spilled out the moment she spidered her fingers up his sides, barely touching him yet somehow unbearable all at once.
“Isn’t it funny,” Bon Bon purred, her sugary teasing sing-song only intensifying the torture, “how one who so desperately chases the laughter of others can be so easily reduced to such a giggly mess himself?” As if to prove her point, she dug right into his vulnerable underarms, and Beppi’s laughter pitched; with Djimmi holding him just a couple inches off the ground, he could do nothing but cackle helplessly. “It’s kind of cute, though. I might even prefer you like this, laughing too much to prattle on with your pitiful excuse for comedy.”
Beppi might’ve felt himself blushing even redder under his makeup at that last remark, if he could focus on anything other than her wicked fingers as they danced down across his ribs. “We may even have a new attraction!” she continued cheerfully, pausing to squeeze at his hips a few times; he could feel the tips of her nails through her silky gloves and his thin suit, digging in just enough to drive Beppi loopy as the teasing circles she was now tracing around his stomach. “Forget the dunk tank - how many coins for a go on this silly, terribly ticklish clown?”
“Bohohohon, nohoho - nohohot there!”
“Hmm? Not here? But that’s right where the target is!” Bon Bon just sped up, drawing faster and smaller circles until without any warning, she dug one of her devious digits right into his bellybutton; Beppi howled, writhing and bucking uselessly in Djimmi’s iron grip in a vain attempt to escape. “Oooh, look at that, I believe I just hit the bullseye! Where’s my prize?”
She wiggled away until Beppi was honking and wheezing like old Charlie, unable to even beg her for mercy or at least to think of his makeup, which was bound to be in ruins from the tears starting to roll down his cheeks. So this was how it ended - tickled to death by a candy lady. Well, he did always say to always leave ‘em laughing…
“Alright, now, Baroness, I think he’s learned his lesson,” Djimmi’s deep voice intoned, as he dropped Beppi back on his feet, Bon Bon finally ceased her attack - sure, she’d listen to him - and he gasped in relief, gulping in sweet lungfuls of air as he flopped back into Djimmi’s arms in a giggly heap, before remembering that he was a dirty traitor. “We don’t want the poor fella to literally laugh his head off.” He grinned, apparently unconcerned by Beppi’s best wounded glare. “It’s been known to happen.”
“That,” Beppi eventually managed to say, pointing an accusing finger at the both of them, “was cruel. And unusual.”
Bon Bon tittered, smoothing down her dress. “Oh dear, funny boy, was I too much for you? Can’t even take what you attempt to dish out? Well, I’d best be taking a powder anyway - time is candy, fellas.” She caught Beppi’s eye as she rose to her feet and shot him a sly wink, and his heart might’ve done a tiny somersault when she fluttered her fingers at them. “Let’s do this again sometime, shall we?”
She turned to saunter back off to her candy land, leaving Beppi and Djimmi to sit/float under the parasol in silence. Well, he’d better get used to it, because Beppi was definitely never speaking to him again. Not a word, not for the rest of their days, no matter how much he begged or -
“Djimbo.” Whoopsie - he’d just have to ignore him forever later, as he was already leaning over to nudge him repeatedly in the side. “D’ja-hear that? Bonnie thinks I’m cute.”
Djimmi chuckled indulgently, taking a puff of his pipe. “Perhaps you should be more careful how you address the Baroness,” he pointed out, eyes twinkling with gentle amusement, “lest you find yourself in another such ticklish predicament.”
Beppi shuddered dramatically, but his goofy grin only grew wider - because, well, Bon Bon had been smiling when she’d been tickling him to pieces. More than he’d ever seen her before, so maybe his plan hadn’t backfired quite as spectacularly as it might seem.
Maybe he wouldn’t mind letting her get the last laugh every once in a while, after all.
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