#those that are like -guttural scream- yes

[darabeatha]

/ I think we should normalize replying to replies with what they made us feel and the vibes we would like to offer back but can't because our brains are temporarily fried bc life/work/studies/other hobbies/etc but we still want to let the other mun know that we enjoyed their reply very much

[jamil-s-wifey]

I saw the rules that NSFW is fine & things u don't write for the NSFW, soo may i req hcs of Savannaclaw's dorm with gn!s/o (f!s/o is ok too) where s/o asks the boys to breed them? Ummm is my req still alright? do tell me if u feel uncomfortable with this. Thank u!

Yes, of course, your request is perfectly fine! One interesting proposition towards the Savannaclaw dorm coming right up! Thank you for diligently reading the rules! ♥️ I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Nsfw under the cut!

Leona

See, he gets it. You're dating a beastman. Of course you'd want to get a taste of the wild side - the primal urges, the possessive bitemarks, the delicious feeling of being full to the brim, like a good little bitch in heat. He gets it. ...But that doesn't mean he won't have some fun with it.

"Breeding, huh? You think just 'cus I'm a beastman, that we call it breeding, that it comes natural or something? Wanna live out your little creampie fantasies through me, huh?"

Oh that accusatory tone, that sharp glare.

Just as you were about to apologise, he interrupted you.

"You'd stand correct, herbivore."

Oh, that piece of-

And he was on you, pinning you to the nearest surface, which ended up being the bed itself. (Lazy lion be lazing) Sharp canines scraped over the pulse point on your neck, as his hips ground into you.

"You wanna be bred, huh? Filled to the brim, marked and scented, so that everybody will know who you belong to? Careful what you wish for, little herbivore."

"You might just get it. Now spread your legs."

Ruggie

He right about *choked*.

You? With him? Now?!? But he's not prepared for fatherhood. He'd want to have a steady income to provide for his family and - and it's so tempting, and you're pulling him in with those glassy eyes, and delicious lips and-

Oh, you meant in like-. Oh You just really want to be filled, don't you. Okay. He can work with that.

He'd be for sure frazzled at first, but very quickly get into rhythm. The more ye imagines it, the more obsessed he gets with the image of your hole dripping with his cum, reddened, used and thoroughly bred.

He'd have to wait until nighttime, when he's free, but the moment you two were left to your own devices he was quick to shed your clothing, nearly ripping yours from your body.

Surprisingly eager, considering the state of pure panic he was in earlier that day. All teeth, and growls, and breathless moaning, and all just for you.

"Shishishi, and here I thought I was the wild one. Oh doncha worry, I'll fill you plenty~."

Somehow that sounded more like a threat than a promise and you were content with both.

Jack

Every single fiber within Jack's body was screaming at him to take you right then and there. His instincts were going haywire at the prospect. He needed you carnally, viscerally... and you were just offering yourself to him?

His tail was a dead giveaway, as to the whirlwind of emotions coursing through him, as he stared at you. His fingers were twitching, aching to get a hold of you.

"You....do realise what that entails, right? We uh...we mate for life. I know you find it..uhm.....attractive, but I have to warn you."

He figured you were aware, he just couldn't believe it. His breeding also entailed a knot after all. You had to be warned. And you already knew. Of course you knew, you'd been together for years. After hearing your wholehearted confirmation, he felt the thin thread of his self-control snap within him.

A deep guttural growl left his throat, as he stepped towards you, grabbing your face and pulling you in for the kiss of a lifetime. Big, rough hands travelled from your face, to your neck and down your body, only to lift you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"I can't wait to paint your insides white. You'd look so good, full and sated, my perfect mate."

Who are you and what did you do to my Jack?

[myspacebrat]

Fooled round & fell in love (part four)

Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

summary: you’re in love with your best friend but your best friend thinks love is for losers, choosing to sleep around rather than settle down. You’ve had enough and you’re ready to move on from your feelings, luckily you find someone who might make that possible but does Eddie really hate love as much as he leads on?

warnings: filthy filthy smut 18+ MINORS DNI, dirty talk, daddy kink (sorry I’m a slut for it), slight perv!eddie, cocky eddie, unprotected sex, honestly it’s basically porn, angst

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has liked, commented and reblogged it really means so much to me. I am seriously shocked at how well this whole series has done, this is literally the first thing I’ve ever written so the fact that people love it is so special to me, so again thank you! 🙏🏻

“But s’kay, we’re here now and I’m gonna take such good care of you”

Eddie says while moving your soaked panties to the side, dipping his two fingers between your folds

“Fuck, I was right, you’re fucking soaked, princess” he says with lust blown eyes

“mmm” is all you can get out while Eddie gathers the wetness dripping from your hole and brings it back up to rub sloppy circles around your clit

“Oh my god!” You moan out as Eddie smirks down at you

“Not, god, but you can call me daddy” he says with a mischievous look on his face

You try to roll your eyes at his antics but fail when he slips a finger into your wet, warm hole instead your eyes close from the immense pleasure

His finger tip slides in and out of you a couple times until he’s moving it in deeper and curling it enough to hit that spot deep inside of you that you didn’t even know you had, then he’s slipping another finger in continuously hitting that spot as you begin to open your legs wider and grab at whatever you can, in this case the hair on the nape of his neck, which makes him moan out in pleasure

His fingers are now pounding into your pussy with the most delicious squelching sounds

“You hear that baby?” Eddie says looking deep into your eyes

“That’s how good daddy’s making you feel”

Your eyes roll back at his filthy words

“Fuck, I need to taste you y/n”

You weren’t sure what it was but something about Eddie declaring his desperation to eat your pussy while using your real name, not a pet name made you wanna submit to everything he said

“Yes, daddy please eat my pussy!” You moan out

Eddie let out the most guttural groan, and fuck was it sexy

Before you knew it he had already moved down between your thighs, he begins slipping your panties down your legs and rolling them off your ankles, Eddie stops and gets up going to his nightstand, he opens it and tosses your panties inside, closes it and then moves back between your thighs

At this point Eddie could do no wrong in your eyes, you were not at capacity to question him about anything, and he was loving the control he had over you, you’re usually a brat, always having something sassy to say, so the fact that you’re being so ready and willing to please him is driving him crazy, and making his cock so hard, it’s starting to hurt

After leaving a few chaste kisses to your thighs, Eddie grabs the back of your knees lifting your legs so high they almost touch the bed underneath your head, he sticks his tongue out and licks you from your dripping hole to your swollen clit, taking it in his mouth and sucking, he was so sloppy with his movements, but it felt fucking divine

He starts to shake his head while sucking at your clit and you just about lose it, grabbing onto the sheets and then grabbing a handful of his beautiful wavy locks

“EDDIE! HOLY SHIT!” You scream out

Eddie lifts his head to say “yeah that’s right, that’s the only name that should be leaving those pretty lips”

Then he’s diving back in to lick and suck on your clit until you can’t hold on any longer

“Eddie, baby I’m gunna c-cum!”

“Cum for daddy”

Was all you needed before your eyes were rolling back and you were clenching around nothing, the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had in your life

Once you can’t take anymore you grab a handful of his hair and bring him back up to you, but before you kiss him, you lick and suck on his lips tasting yourself

“mmm, I taste so good” you say in the most seductive voice that’s ever left your mouth

“Jesus, y/n I think your my dream girl” he says in amazement at your filthiness

Your heart bursts hearing his words, but you talk yourself down not wanting to get your hopes up, “he’s just saying that in the heat of the moment” you think to yourself

Before you could dive any further into those thoughts Eddie’s grabbing your chin and kissing you, not a sloppy, sexual kiss but a soft, intense and passionate kiss, you don’t think you’ve ever been kissed like this before and holy shit, it’s intensifying all the feelings you already had for him

He pulls away and you let out a little whine and Eddie thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s ever heard

“You miss me already?” He says while pulling his sweat pants down and letting his cock spring out, of course that little shit wasn’t wearing underwear

You couldn’t help but widen your eyes at the size, definitely the biggest you’d ever seen, you didn’t even know they could be this big if you were being honest but you weren’t very experienced in that area as you’ve only been with two other guys not including Randy for obvious reasons

Eddie noticed the way you were starring and smiled “like what you see, princess?”

You just nod in shocked silence

You’re wondering how he’s even going to fit inside you, but you’re ready for the challenge

Before you can over think it, you’re standing up and pushing Eddie to sit down on the bed

“What are you doing?” He says in surprise

But as soon as he sees you sink down to your knees he doesn’t need any further explaining

You look up at him as you take his big cock in your dainty hand, giving it a few strokes

Eddie is looking right back at you, letting out a shaky breath

In this moment you decided you wanted to give him the best head of his life, you weren’t super experienced but you knew enough, your competitive side coming out, you knew you had to be better than all of those girls before you, maybe you shouldn’t have been looking at it from that angle but you truly couldn’t help it

After you stroke his cock a couple more times you let spit pool in your mouth before you’re spitting a glob right on his tip, you start to move down with your hand smearing it all over his meaty shaft

He’s already moaning out like crazy and you haven’t even wrapped your lips around him yet

“Fuck, that’s a good girl” he moans out

You bite your lip at his words

“You like that, you wanna be my good girl? He says

You shake your head yes, pulling out the most innocent yet seductive look you could

It worked, Eddie couldn’t get enough of this side of you. He always wondered what fucking you would be like but he never thought you would end up being like this

So confident and sexy, he almost felt like he was having sex with a porn star.

Eddie knew you weren’t that experienced so you were impressing him immensely

Finally after your teasing you take the head of his cock into your mouth, lightly sucking, you continue to move down taking inch by inch into your mouth until he’s hitting the back of your throat, you bob your head a few times letting his tip continuously hit your throat, you gag a bit and then let his cock go with a pop, you have so much spit in your mouth after gagging you decide to spit on the tip again, as you’re smearing the spit all over while pumping it, you notice his balls looked lonely so you start stroking a little faster tightening your grip, as you do that you take one of his balls in your mouth

“JESUS FUCK!” He moans out as his eyes roll back into his head

Then he’s looking back down at you, your pretty eyes looking back at him as you stroke him and suck on his balls. Eddie knew he was in love with you already but holy shit after this he was never gunna let you go, he starts thinking about you and Randy and how he almost got to see you like this, he couldn’t let that happen again.

After you’ve given his balls enough attention you grab his cock putting it back in your mouth and deep throating, fucking him with your mouth at this point

“Fuck you’re such a good girl, fuck y/n you’re my best girl” he says with so much adoration

His words only egging you on

Finally Eddie can’t take it anymore, he has to be inside you, has to feel you wrapped around him

He grabs your hair and pulls you off of him, once you pull off of his dick you’re looking up at him, with your mouth and chin full of your spit, as he’s staring at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, you smile up at him so innocently like you didn’t just have his balls in your mouth

“Please let me fuck you now, baby?”

You did not have to be asked twice

You stand up on your feet, but as soon as you do Eddie is throwing you onto the mattress and assuming the position you started out in

“Condom?” Eddie asks checking to see what you wanted, if he’s being honest he’s never fucked a girl without one, but with you Eddie wanted to feel everything, he wanted to be impossibly close to you

“I need you to fuck me raw Eddie” you moan out to him in complete desperation

Your words alone could make him bust, he’s never felt that way before, so turned on that you could do or say anything and he’d be complete putty in your hand

Eddie grabs his cock and rubs it over your folds teasingly

Then he’s angling it into your tight hole, slowly pushing in inch by inch, your mouth falls open in a silent moan, stretching you out so nicely, you couldn’t help but writh a little bit beneath him, you’ve never felt such pleasure, once he’s finally bottomed out completely and you take a few breaths, he begins moving in and out at a agonizingly slow pace, you’re so horny you can’t even take it anymore you need him to pound you into oblivion

“Harder Eddie, I need you to pound my pussy, please!” You don’t know where any of this was coming from but Eddie was bringing this little sex demon out of you and you were not mad about it, it felt nice speaking up and asking for what you wanted, never feeling comfortable enough to do that with your two other partners

“Fuck, ok baby, I got you” he says as he starts to fuck into you harder, skin slapping and pretty moans coming from you both was all that could be heard in Eddie’s room

As Eddie pounded into you, he looked down into your eyes removing some of the hair that was in your face, he leans down and kisses you, same passionate, intense kiss like last time, he breaks the kiss again going back to looking you in the eyes, his pace starts to slow a bit and he’s catching his breath from fucking you so hard, his gaze is so intense you almost wanna look away, as he leans in more he whispers

“I love you y/n, so fucking much”

You couldn’t even believe what you had just heard, you felt like you were dreaming about to be awoken at any second, everything was almost too much and you were on the verge of your second orgasm

“I-I fuck Eddie, I love you too! I’ve loved you for so long” you do your best to get your words out between moans

With that, Eddie starts pounding into you again he can tell you’re teetering on the edge and he needs to make you cum before he does

“Uh, uh” is all that leaves your mouth as your eyes roll back

Eddie is so close and he almost can’t hold it any longer so he sucks his thumb into his mouth getting it nice and wet before he’s swiping it over your clit, your body starts to tense and shake and your moans are getting even louder, you turn your face into Eddie’s forearm that is resting by your head and bite into it as you have the most earth shattering orgasm to date

The bite you gave Eddie mixed with your walls spasming and gripping his cock has him pulling out and spurting white ropes of cum all over your pussy

As he cums he lets out the most sexiest and deepest moan that you wish you could record and play over and over again when you got home.

After you both catch your breaths and come down from your highs, Eddie gets up and heads to the bathroom for a towel to clean you up with

After he wipes you down he throws the towel into his hamper, pulls his sweats on and goes to lay down next to you pulling your body closer to his

He breaks the silence “I really meant that” he said almost too nervous to bring it up

You turn to face him, as you rub your nose against his, making him smile

“I meant it too” you said back

Before Eddie could say anything else there was a knock at the door

You get up and smooth out your clothes as Eddie gets up to head to the front door, as he opens it the same blonde from the party is pushing her way inside throwing her arms around him and kissing his neck “hey baby!” Leaves her mouth and he looks over at you as you stand there frozen in shock.

part 5

THANK YOU FOR READING

PLEASE COMMENT AND REBLOG

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[estellan0vella]

Really Bad Older Brother Sukuna AU HFBU

The room is dark, bathed in the soft, ambient glow from the streetlight outside. You’re nestled comfortably in bed beside Sukuna, his arm draped protectively over your waist. The night is serene, a peaceful lull after a busy day at the parlour.

Suddenly, your body tenses, jerking violently. Sukuna stirs, instantly alert, his instincts kicking in. "Baby?" he whispers, concern etching into his features as he feels the tremors wrack your body. "Babe, can you hear me?"

Your eyes are wide open but unseeing, and guttural, pained noises escape through your gritted teeth. Sukuna’s heart pounds as he quickly turns on the bedside lamp, the light revealing the severity of your seizure.

“Fuck,” he mutters, urgency gripping him. He grabs his phone, fingers trembling as he dials the emergency services, rattling off the necessary details. "My girlfriend's having a seizure. It's not stopping. Yes, she's epileptic. Please, hurry."

As he ends the call, the door creaks open. Yuji stands there, rubbing sleep from his eyes, his small face scrunched in worry. "Suku, what's happening to Y/N/N?"

"Yuji, stay calm," Sukuna says, trying to keep his voice steady. "Y/N's having a seizure. The ambulance is on its way."

"But she’s making those scary noises," Yuji whimpers, inching closer to the bed.

Sukuna scoops him up with his free arm, holding him tightly. "I know, buddy. It’s gonna be okay. We just need to wait for the ambulance."

The minutes drag on, each second feeling like an eternity. Your seizure shows no signs of stopping. Sukuna places you on your side, ensuring you’re safe, while holding Yuji close, murmuring reassurances.

Finally, the sound of sirens pierces the night. Sukuna carries Yuji as he rushes to open the door for the paramedics. "In here," he directs, voice tight with urgency.

The paramedics move swiftly, administering the first dose of diazepam. Sukuna watches, anxiety clawing at him as your body continues to convulse. After three doses, your seizure finally begins to subside, but your breathing is shallow and erratic.

"She's stable for now, but we need to get her to the hospital," one of the paramedics says. Sukuna nods, his grip on Yuji tightening.

In the ambulance, Sukuna calls Gojo, his fingers slick with sweat. "It’s Y/N. She had a bad seizure. We’re on our way to the hospital."

Gojo's voice is immediately filled with concern. "We’ll meet you there. Hang in there, Sukuna."

The ride to the hospital feels like an eternity. Yuji clings to Sukuna, wide-eyed and frightened. "Is Y/N/N gonna be okay?" he asks, voice trembling.

"She will be," Sukuna assures him, though worry gnaws at him.

At the hospital, the medics rush you inside, and Yuji’s fear morphs into panic. "Y/N/N! No!" he screams, trying to break free from Sukuna’s hold. "I want to be with her!"

"Yuji, you have to stay here," Sukuna says, his voice strained as he struggles to keep a grip on the frantic boy. "Let the doctors help her."

Yuji fights against him, kicking and scratching, a particularly vicious bite drawing blood from Sukuna's arm. "Let me go! I want Y/N/N!"

“Yuji, stop!” Sukuna shouts, pain lacing his voice. "You’re hurting me. I promise she’ll be okay."

Yuji's struggles weaken, his cries turning to sobs as he clings to Sukuna. "I want Y/N/N," he whimpers, the heartbreak in his voice tearing at Sukuna's heart.

Gojo and Geto arrive as Yuji cries into Sukuna's t-shirt, wiping snot and tears all over the fabric. "We’ll take Yuji to get something to eat, Sukuna. Stay with her," Geto says gently, prying Yuji from Sukuna's arms.

"Y/N will be okay," Gojo assures Yuji as they head towards the cafeteria. "Let’s give her some time to rest."

Sukuna watches them go, his heart heavy but grateful for his friends' support. Once you’re stable and moved to a room, he finally allows himself a moment to breathe. He sits by your bed, holding your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

Gojo and Geto return with Yuji, who immediately climbs into the bed next to you, curling up at your side. “Y/N/N?” he whispers, his voice shaky. "It's me, Yuji. You're gonna be okay."

The room is quiet, filled only with the sound of your breathing and the steady beeping of the monitors. Time seems to stretch on forever, until finally, you stir, eyes fluttering open. Confusion clouds your gaze as you take in the hospital room, your mind struggling to piece together what happened.

“Yuji?” you croak out, your voice barely a whisper.

Yuji’s face lights up with relief, and he squeezes your hand. “You had a seizure, Y/N/N. It was really bad, but you're okay now. Suku and I are here.”

Sukuna leans over, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “We’re here, babe. Just rest. We’ve got you.”

Gojo and Geto stand nearby, their presence a comforting reassurance. “Take it easy,” Gojo says softly. “You’re safe now.”

You close your eyes, exhaustion pulling you back under, but the fear and confusion are lessened by the love and support surrounding you. As you drift back to sleep, Sukuna and Yuji remain by your side, a steadfast reminder that no matter what, they will always be there to protect you.

taglist - @sad-darksoul @thejujvtsupost

[deejadabbles]

Ruin (Rex x Fem!Reader) Smut

Summary: Rex proves why clones are superior to natborns. A.N: I....I don't know what to say for myself. I woke up horny and key smashed this filth onto my laptop. Word Count: 1,085 Warnings: Rough sex (with aftercare), marking, dirty talk, competency kink, a hint of choking, mentions of clone bigotry.

Masterlist /// Tag List Sign Up  /// AO3

You had no idea what had gotten into Rex that night, but whatever it was, you were reaping the best benefits from it.

His hands had a bruising grip on your wrists as they pinned you to the bed, his hip pounding relentlessly into you as he took you from behind, growling and grunting lowly in your ear. His cock was stretching you with every thrust, barely prepared to take him when he threw you on the bed. Getting so wet from the way he pulled your clothes off was your only saving grace as he practically impaled you.

Rex must have decided that you were too quiet for him, because without warning his lips moved from your ear, darting down to give your shoulder a rough bite. Something just short of a scream ripped from your throat as you threw your head back- or at least, as much as you could, with him pinning you down with his whole body.

“That’s it,” he growled, tongue darting out to soothe the mark he left, “moan and scream as loud as you want. Let everyone hear you. Kark, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You get off letting everyone know that you’re in here, getting fucked by a clone.”

The way he hissed out the word startled you, even in the heat of the moment. So, that’s what got into him. You tried to lean back, press your lips to his ear or temple or any part of him you could reach as he grazed his teeth over more of your skin.

“I'm getting fucked by a man, not just a clon- AH!” 

Another guttural sound left you when he reangled his hips, fucking even deeper as he bit you again. “It’s alright, mesh’la,” he hummed against your skin, “I know what they think of us, what they think of me.” Another growl as he released his death grip on your wrist and instead wrapped his large hand around your throat. “Thinking we’re beneath them, like kriffing droids.” He gave just the lightest squeeze, fingers playing at your neck, “But you know different, don’t you, darling? You ever had a natborn fuck you like this? Fuck you this good?”

You couldn’t stand it, between his hips pounding against your ass, his hands and teeth marking you up, and those filthy words, you were a mess, eyes rolling back, mouth agape, body like jelly under him. All you could manage was an urgent nod and a whimper of agreement.

Rex grunted his disapproval, before dragging his hand down your body and shoving it between the bed and your cunt. He laid out his rough fingers right where he was grinding you into the mattress, curling the digits just right so your clit rubbed hard against them with every thrust of his bruising hips.

“Say it,” he growled, “tell me why you let this clone fuck you.”

You made sure your moan of a curse was loud as your body pulsed with pleasure under him. Kriff, you were close, so close! Somehow, you found your voice, even if it was a raw, barely coherent mess. “B-best I’ve ever had! No one ever fu-fucked me so good, no one but you, Rex!”

That got his approval, he hummed, nuzzling you just below your ear, his hips and hands never letting up. “That’s right, mesh’la, ruined you, haven’t I? Ruined you for any other man.”

“Yes- yes! Fuck, Rex, want you to ruin me over ‘n over.”

You could feel his cock twitch at that, the hand still pinning your wrist tightening possessively. His lips returned to your ear and right when his fingers started to work in tandem with his thrusts, he purred, “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

Your pleasure reached its peak suddenly and blind hot, so euphoric that you weren’t even sure what you sounded like when it happened. It must have been music to his ears, though, because he let out a distracted curse as he slid the hand from your clit to grip your hip. Just like everything else about him tonight, it was hard and rough, holding you in place as Rex readjusted himself again, using your abused cunt to chase his own end.

It didn’t take him long and you cried out in overstimulated bliss as you felt him spill deep inside you, filling you up, making you his yet again. Just like all the marks he left that night. You couldn’t help but whimper when he pulled out of you, feeling his cum dripping on your ass and thighs. 

Neither of you were able to breathe right after that, and Rex collapsed half on the bed, half over you and he tried to get his ragged breathing under control. You were laying there, spent, eyes closed and uncaring of the mess your open mouth and dripping pussy were making of the sheets.

Still, when Rex, still breathing hard, started laying tender kisses over your hair, you shuddered with delight. He moved your body this way and that until he was under you with your head to his chest. Next, he took your wrist and brought it to his mouth, soft lips pressing gently to where he had held you so tightly.

“I- I left bruises, didn’t I?” he mumbled, and the shame underlying his tone made you look up, “ ‘m sorry, cyare, I don’t know what got into me.”

His gentle hold made it easy for you to reach out and cup his cheek, thumb tracing over his lips. “Nothing to apologize for, Rex. I’m not complaining.”

You wanted to ask who and what was said about clones that got him so upset, mostly so you could give the di’kutla a piece of your mind, but you decided to save that for later. Right now, you just wanted to show Rex exactly how superior he was to anyone who thought less of him. With all the strength you could muster, you raised yourself up, straddling his hips and holding his face in both hands. You kissed him, pulling him against your still sore body and running your hands over his short hair.

He moaned into your mouth and this time his fingers gripped your hips gently, kneading the tender skin with care.

“Rex,” your tone was breathy when you pulled back, holding his gaze as you said, “I’m going to show you how thankful I am that you ruin me every night.”

Slowly, a smirk lifted his mouth, and that haze of possessive need darkened his eyes again.

.

Taglist: @blueink-bluesoul @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @commander-sunshine @dystopicjumpsuit @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @arcsimper5 @littlemissmanga @wings-and-beskar @clonemedickix @freesia-writes @idontgetanysleep @523rdrebel

[jokeringcutio]

Art the Clown x Reader Drabble "Giving Birth to Art's Baby" [ EXPLICIT, Gore]

AN: Nobody asked for this. Summary: If Reader had Art’s baby. (or: You realize you're fucked, birthing a demon's child, but get a bright idea while doing so)

Warnings: Explicit content (Blood/Murder/Birth), Demon!Art, Demon!kid, Cannibalism/Placenta eating. Mentioned Forced Impregnation. Reader gives birth. Reader tries to survive. Reader lives by the end of this chapter. You have Art’s look-a-like baby (not just his head. An actual kid).

The sterile whiteness of the hospital room blurred into a canvas of dread as they told you to push. "You can do this," the nurse said, her voice a harsh command against the silence of your unborn child's heart—a silence that had been haunting you since labor began. The monitors sang no lullaby of life; instead, they hummed a dirge for the creature stirring inside, the one you knew bore no resemblance to a human babe.

"Push!" she insisted, but something primal within you recoiled. Your mind reeled, images of the ultrasounds flickering like a horror show behind your eyes—those glimpses of something otherworldly, something that twisted the midwives' faces into masks of confusion and fear. You felt it squirming, an alien presence in the sanctuary of your womb. Its head, too large, its limbs, too sharp—you remembered the cold gel on your belly and the screen showing a chest empty of a beating heart and a skull with teeth that no other baby ever had.

The images had filled you with nightmares.

"Push, damn it!"

With each word from her lips, you were torn further between the instinct to expel the abomination and the unnatural maternal pull towards the thing you carried. It looked slightly human, yes, but there was no pulse, no thrumming of life—just the void where a heartbeat should echo.

"Push, or we'll lose you both!"

Your muscles clenched, a symphony of pain rippling through you as you fought to obey, to be rid of the living death inside. You tried to calm the tempest in your chest, telling yourself over and over, "I can do this."

Then he invaded your thoughts—Art, the demon, the clown in black and white, a mockery of joy and laughter. His teeth, those sharp instruments of terror, flashed in your memory, evoking the night of unspeakable horror when he had claimed you. Should you have fought him harder? Should you have shouted or cried? His touch was a brand, his seed the poison that grew into the monstrosity within.

You had recognized the shape of the baby’s skull the instant the ultrasound had shown it. His teeth. His head. His heartless frame.

Mass murderer and psycho on the run. A clown who never spoke and was never caught. A criminal the police claimed to have killed time after time again, yet he kept returning. You weren’t stupid. You knew he was no ordinary man, had seen and felt him up close, had lived through carrying his offspring and felt its tiny hands like claws inside your womb.

"Push! I see the head!"

Your scream tore through the air, a battle cry against the violation that had led to this moment. With a guttural cry, you bore down, every fiber of your being straining to bring forth the offspring of darkness. The nurses leaned in, their faces etched with morbid curiosity and professional detachment.

"More! Now!"

And you did. You pushed past the fear, the revulsion, and the anguish. You pushed because surrender was not an option. The child of Art, the silent clown with the soulless bright eyes surrounded by circles of dark, was coming, and you would face it, even as it threatened to tear you apart.

"Head's out!"

The words cut through the fog of your agony, and for a brief, impossible moment, hope flickered. But it was a fool's hope, born of pain and desperation. For what lay between your thighs was neither dead nor alive, neither human nor wholly other. It was the unholy union of your flesh and Art's demonic whimsy, born into a world that would never understand its existence.

"Keep going, you're almost there!"

That nurse's voice, so insistent, so devoid of the horrors that awaited, spurred you on. And you pushed again, into the unknown, into the nightmare made flesh.

The sterile chill of the delivery room clawed at your senses, but nothing could compare to the icy grip of fear that seized your heart. The nurse's declaration was a death knell, ringing hollow in your ears.

"Oh no, look at that color,” she breathed out, her words a ghost lingering in the air. The child’s head was as white as the sheets you were birthing on.

Your gaze fixed on the writhing mass that now slipped free from your body, its skin as white as untouched snow, not a shade of life to be found. Terror danced in the nurse's eyes as she caught the creature you had birthed, fully convinced to hold a stillborn child.

But then it turned its head towards her, lips pulled back in a macabre grin, black and white painted across its face like a twisted replica of Art's mime visage.

It was as you had feared it would be. Any hope you had held that your baby might come out all rosy and normal faded like ice under the sun.

"God!" The nurse recoiled, hurling your offspring onto the bed as if it were a viper.

"Easy! Easy!" You cried out. This was your child, your blood. And there was the little voice inside your head that whispered that Art wouldn’t die. No matter how many shots had been fired at him. No matter how many limbs had been cut off. The man still walked the earth, spreading death in silent joy wherever he went.

What if your child was the same? Already its heart wasn’t beating yet it seemed very much alive. Would throwing it away like its life meant nothing be the solution?

Adrenaline fueled your limbs, and with a grunt, you crawled toward the tiny form cast aside on the cold hospital linen. No. This was your baby too. No matter how evil, you would nurse it.

"Shh, shh," you soothed, half-mad with pain and wonder as your arms closed around the little body. Your hands trembled, cradling him close, the resemblance uncanny—Art's spawn, his legacy. Something soft dangled between the baby’s legs.

"Boy..." you whispered, the realization dawning upon you as you held him against your breast. The baby’s head instinctively sought for your nipple, his already long-grown teeth snapping as he sought.

The sight of his head filled you with terror, and you felt slightly sick to see the baby’s lack of lips and already blackened teeth. Bright eyes stared up at you, black circles around him. The first touch of his mouth to your skin was tentative, searching, before a sharp pain made you hiss. "No biting!"

He seemed to understand or perhaps heeded the command instilled in his dark lineage. You were grateful he started to suck next and didn’t bite your entire nipple off. You wouldn’t put it past him – not with what you had seen his father do and what you had read and heard in the news articles about him.

There amidst the blood and the shadows, you were bound to this child, this extension of a demon's desire, by cords thicker than fear, stronger than revulsion. In the silence that hung heavy, only your harsh breaths and the soft, wet suckling sounds filled the void.

Your arms ached, but you clung to him—the fruit of your womb and a monster's seed. The room spun slightly, the stark white tiles of the hospital room blurring as you focused on the tiny creature at your breast. His lips, so unlike a human’s and too far pulled back, painted in an unseen artist's black and white, suckled with an instinctual hunger.

"Sweetheart,” you tested the word, reassuring yourself that you could do this. That you had to use affectionate terms around him especially because he was the way he was.

A new plan formed in your mind.

If you could bring such true evil to the world, could you perhaps dampen it? You were pretty certain you could not undo it. You could not change a devil into an angel. But if you could not turn evil into good, could you perhaps guide it? Guide it away from harming innocents?

"You're mine," you murmured, studying the little baby in your arms. If not for the head, the child would have looked rather normal.

“My son,” you proudly said, testing the words whilst the nurses and doctors around you stood and watched. You heard their muttering and were vaguely aware of how one of the nurses had pushed an emergency button and alerted someone else in the building about what was going on.

Would they come and take your baby away from you? Would they want to try and murder him?

A fierce protectiveness was swelling within you. “I’ll protect you, sweetheart,” you reaffirmed, determination lacing the single word. “You are my son.”

Some of the nurses took a step back from the bloodied bed, their eyes still wide with disbelief. Behind them, the door burst open with a violence that made every eye swing toward it.

Art stood there, his silhouette like a twisted shadow from a child's nightmare. The nurse at the entrance reached for him. “Sir,” she said, eyes upon the garbage gab he carried over his shoulder. “These are sterile surroundings.” Her concern was cut short by the gleam of steel—a deft flick of Art's wrist—and she crumpled, a scream caught in her throat, blood blossoming on her uniform like a grotesque flower.

The doctor next to her cried out when a blade hit his legs, slashing through the clean white fabric until his shins bled. Another nurse to his side crumpled when Art passed her by, pushed over with blood on her pristine white clothes.

"Stop!" Your voice was a command, even as you recoiled. "Don't."

Art’s head cocked, you could tell he had heard your voice, but he didn’t listen. Whatever knife he had brought with him was launched to land in the middle of a nurse’s forehead, pinching her to the wall. He smiled broadly while he stepped up to the doctor’s tools to get a scalpel from them, obviously pleased with all the sharp things that were within his reach. He threatened to step forth to the Doctor who had already wounded legs and who had fallen to the floor. The man looked up at the demonic clown fearfully, tears in his eyes as Art raised the scalpel.

“Art, please,” you begged, “Don’t hurt them.”

It wasn’t your pleading that stopped him. But something else entirely. A low groan as finally, the afterbirth followed - a final, visceral release that marked the end of your gruesome trial.

His head cocked, the mime's unnerving silence punctuating the chaos he had wrought. He approached, eyes fixed on the bundle in your arms. Between your legs, the heap of blood and tissue drained the sheets. The baby’s umbilical cord was still attached to the placenta that had finally come out.

Art studied it. First, the writhing baby in your arms. He looked at it like he had never seen a newborn child before. He probably hadn’t, you thought. At least, not one of his own. The wonder was visible in those bright light eyes of his. The demonic toothy smile had turned into a black hole of wonder.

Then, the brightly shining eyes traced the umbilical cord and came to rest on the placenta. Something in his eyes changed, and he looked up at you, almost hungrily. His gaze softened then at the sight of his son again, and dirt-covered fingers reached out a few times, indicating he wanted to hold him but was too shy to grab the babe.

Your son’s eyes opened, recognizing his father. But he wouldn’t leave his meal. The teeth nibbled on your nipple while milk kept flowing richly, then bit down a little harder when you moved your arm – an indication that he did not want to be moved.

With a spidery grace, Art extended a hand, his fingers stretching toward his progeny. You tightened your grasp, feeling the peculiar warmth of your son against your flesh.

"Art," you began, voice quivering with a cocktail of fear and resolve. "He's feeding." You met those abyssal eyes, searching for understanding. "We need them alive—the nurses, the doctors. We might need their help..." Whatever could you say to keep him from killing these people? You raked your mind, thought desperately. And then it came out. Unbidden. "For next time."

A pause, and then a different kind of hunger flashed across his face. Another offspring? The idea hadn't crossed his twisted mind until you seeded it there. The possibility of creating more beings like this one, beings that belonged to both of you—it ignited something within him.

"Next time," you whispered, coaxing.

Art's attention shifted, drawn away by the glistening afterbirth on the bed. A grotesque curiosity morphed into action as he reached down, snatching it up with an eager hand. He snapped the umbilical cord with his teeth, igniting gasps throughout the room of the nurses and the doctor – all either petrified or too wounded to leave. You gave them all an empathic stare, a silent ‘I’m sorry’ while you watched as Art descended on his own meal.

The room filled with the sound of his silent feasting, a tableau of horror that paralyzed the surviving staff. They could only watch, too terrified to move, too horrified to look away.

"Good," you breathed, holding your son closer. "Focus on that. Let us be."

Surrounded by trembling bodies and the scent of iron and fear, you rocked gently, whispering promises into the velvet softness atop your son's head, promises of a world where he would never be alone—where he'd have a sibling to share the darkness with. And more importantly, a mother who would guide evil in ways that would save those she cared about. Herself included. ~ AN: This could be a full story, but I was lazy and only wrote the birthing scene. Might upload other parts that can go along with this as I have an outline. If you like my (gross) writing (style), consider following me or browse my masterlists (psst, there's more).

~~ Support me on Ko-Fi - Masterlist - Request Box ~~ The Full Tale: Art saw the pale girl, another of his kind, and realized that he wanted to be less lonely. Someone of his own kind, now that sounded nice. A kid of his own to play patty cake with? So he started looking for a potential carrier for his kid. You were cute, didn't run as hard, didn't make a sound when he tried to harm you. A quiet little human, about the size of the clown kid he had seen. You were perfect. Instead of killing you, he made sure you got pregnant. During the pregnancy, you kept seeing traces of him, found little gifts from the stranger who featured in your nightmares ever since.

You weren't stupid. You found out quite quickly that your clown is in fact the much sought-after murderer who comits the most horrible crimes under the name of Art. You have seen what he is capable of and dive into the archives researching him and his crimes. He seems to survive everything.

When the ultrasounds show you a distorted baby with no heartbeat, you know that you carry true evil inside of you. But getting rid of it is no option, as you can't kill what already seems to be dead. With no other fate, you have no option but to birth the monster's child. How you will handle things after, however, that is something you can influence. You will do anything in your power to survive. ~~

[mamashenanigans]

I still have so many fics and other stuff to write (been behind due to moving), but I just came up with this. I blame the ‘tism.

After AFO’s vestige is pummeled into oblivion, he violently opens his eyes to find himself back in the sewers, watching Yoichi fleeing from him with Kudo. He reaches out towards him, but flinches away as all the feelings of grief and loneliness hit him like a semi-truck, and he falls to his knees screaming in pain for Yoichi to not leave him.

It’s guttural. Raw. A sobbing mess as the intense feeling of loss cascades over him like a tall waterfall; rocks corroding away from its strength.

Yoichi flinches and this time he turns ever so slightly to look upon his twin, broken and shuddering in immeasurable grief.

It’s enough for him to release Kudo’s hand and fully turn around. Kudo and Bruce stop as the other resistant fighters continue to race away through the dirty water. They make to pull Yoichi back, but he takes a few steps towards his brother instead.

AFO is shaking and real tears fall from his matte eyes as he screams at Yoichi, “Please! Please GOD don’t leave me again! I can’t do it all over again! I can’t! Everything—the plans, the minions, the Quirks—all of it! It doesn’t mean anything! Not if you’re not with me. Not if I’m not with you!”

Yoichi’s eyes widen as he continues to slowly walk towards his brother as Kudo and Bruce yell at him not to listen to AFO’s deceit. He hushes them with a raised hand and tilts his head down at his brother, his confusion palpable over the stench of the gutter. He knows his twin better than anyone. He knows when he lies, he knows when he manipulates, he knows how incredibly dangerous he is. But…this is different. He knows that too.

AFO lifts his head to meet Yoichi’s emerald eyes. “You’re…you’re looking at me?! Yes! Please! Yoichi, I’m, dammit, I’m sorry! Just don’t go! The demon lord? It doesn’t matter. Nothing does without you! I’ll…I’ll give it up! Right now! You don’t even need to come with me. I’ll do it! I’ll come with you! Tell me what to do and I’ll do it! Please, please, please! Just don’t leave me alone. I’m nothing without you!”

“You’re…you’re not lying,” he remarks softly. It’s something he never would have thought possible in this situation, but it’s true. His twin’s emotions are raw and real like those he displayed back in their early youth. Yoichi flinches from instinct when he feels his brother’s arms wrap around his legs and his forehead rest on his stomach. His brother had always been so damn big.

“Please…”

Yoichi softly lays his hand on his brother’s disheveled hair and sweeps his fingers through the identical white locks. He’s so inclined to believe this is a trick. A trap. That would follow history, but this is different. Something has changed irrevocably within his brother. Maybe their entire reality. That’s how powerful this all felt. Decisive.

He suddenly remembered his confession to his two heroes. How his brother’s power could be the greatest, most kind ability in the entire world. Yoichi wasn’t sure if his brother could be that kind, but it seemed—

“Tell me what you want, Yoichi. My Qui—meta power. My meta power! Whatever you want, my dear little brother. I’ll do it!”

Yoichi peered back at Kudo and Bruce.

“Guys. I…I think we won?”

[lucygxybaird]

billy is practically addicted to getting you off.

he loves going down on you, using his fingers -- he definitely loves doing both, pumping two long, thick digits in and out of you, while his tongue plays with your clit.

of course he loves when he's inside you, but especially when you're on top, because that way you can control the pace. you can ride him fast and hard, almost using him, that's his favorite.

and it's not like you neglect his pleasure. if anything, you're just as focused on him as he is on you. you encourage him to be loud, to let you know how good it feels. and he obeys, without question, mostly because it does feel so fucking good -- and because he can tell what it does for you.

every moan of his, every groan and whimper, every sigh of your name, every time he chants "yes yes yes" or manages a single, guttural "fuck--" before he loses himself inside you...he drinks in the look on your face, your eyes closed in mirrored bliss, your mouth open and your forehead furrowed in an expression of rapture. he can't get enough of you like this. you look so beautiful in ecstasy. each noise out of your own mouth goes straight to his cock, whether he's buried deep within you or not.

more than once, he's come without being touched, his tongue delving into your core like he gets sustenance from your peak coating his tastebuds, or his thumb rubbing at your clit while his fingers curl inside you. he'll grunt helplessly, his hips jerking against the mattress, as cum pools sticky and hot in his pants. it's just so good, the way you cry out for him. wordless moans, his name repeated like a prayer, cries getting louder and louder, until you're almost screaming in your pleasure -- on the rare occasions where he's without you, and he can't sleep, he's replayed those moments in his mind, his hand wrapped around his cock and stroking rapidly.

it gets him off every time.

now you're on top of him, your back to his front, kneeling on his lap as he sits on the edge of the bed, feet planted on the floor. his hands are on your hips, but you're setting the pace, fucking yourself on him. "billy -- oh, god, billy -- you-you're so -- so fucking deep..."

he slides one hand up your body, over your waist, caressing your breast, up the column of your throat and over your jaw. his fingers slip into your mouth, and you suck obediently.

"yeah, baby?" he mumbles, pulling his fingers free. his hand immediately delves between your legs, rubbing at your clit. your hips buck. "do i make you feel good?"

"yes!" you're almost sobbing, your head falling back onto his shoulder. you've lost almost all sense of rhythm, but he doesn't mind. with his feet still firmly on the floor, he starts rocking up into you, making you keen even louder. "oh, yes, billy, yes, you make me feel so good--!"

"i want everybody to know about it," he mutters in your ear. "i want you to scream for me when you come all over my cock--"

you groan loudly, each cry pealing like the clap of a bell. billy can feel the way your starting to jerk and tremble, muscles misfiring like you've been struck by lightning, your thighs quivering, that you're close. he nuzzles at your temple, hips pistoning up into you as his fingers continue to work your clit.

and then, as you tip over the edge, you do scream -- a helpless cry of intense pleasure, and it flips the switch for him immediately. your back arches against him, and both of his hands go to your hips to keep you steady as he rocks into you just twice more before he's finishing with a loud shout of his own.

it takes a long time for you to both come down; billy manages to get the two of you under the covers, and he pulls you against his chest, and you giggle. he smiles, nosing at your hair. "what?"

"the neighbors are gonna complain again."

"honey, our closest neighbors are almost a mile away."

you giggle again. "i know."

[blissfullyrhea]

GOOD LITTLE GIRLFRIEND

ACE X F READER 18+ MDNI

Not proofread and short. Enjoy.

“Nngh!”

Your bedroom was barely lit when it echoed your sounds back to you, the room being so quiet it simply felt as though anything you said bounced off the walls and reflected back into your ears. It was embarrassing.

Or, it would be if it wasn’t for your attention being so focused on the man who had his mouth latched onto your soaking wet cunt, prodding your hole with his tongue and a stupid dazed out look in his eyes.

“Ace- Please” your words were drawing out the more his tongue twirled around inside of you. You already had faint bruises from his fingers digging into your thighs. Proof of how long you’ve been here under his torment.

“Why?” He finally asked, his tongue out of you , trailing his lips as cleaned your slick off them. He never released you from his hold, rather he barely lifted his head to allow you a break. “You’ve only come twice, and one was by the vibrator in the car, it doesn’t count.”

Ace had rules for your sex life. If you were needy, he would use one of the many toys he has on you until he can properly handle you the way he wanted. Those didn’t count as real orgasms to him. They were a cheap way out, their only positive was that they prepared you well enough for him to not have to go so easy on you, and he liked that. But only that.

“Yes, but it’s too much I.. I can’t cum anymore baby, plea-Ahhh fuck!” Your arguments were usually short, as it was now when his fingers sporadically ran across your clit, forcing your hips to buck up and allowing Ace to get back to his meal. His tongue moved deeply inside of you as his fingers worked your clit and it was enough after all his earlier work to get your back arching with a third orgasm.

Letting you ride it out, Ace sat up, still rubbing your clit as you shook, a smirk kissing his lips as he watched you. “Just like that, see? How can I stop when you look so pretty cumming for me?”

His words were deaf on your ears, the only thing your mind could focus on was the feeling of your walls forcibly spreading around his large length. His cock was so fat and long that even after the countless times of being ruined by him you still made him work to put it fully in.

With a groan, Ace furrowed his eyebrows as he watched himself work into your tight sex. “Fuck this is my second favorite view.. watching you flutter around me like that, princess, makes me feel like I’m gonna cum right now.” His large hands moved up the back of your thighs to your knees, holding them together while your ankles rested on either one of his shoulders.

Your cunt was so full and the after effects of your orgasm though fading were still very much running their course and his hitting that spot, you knew it’d make you messier than you were. And he did too.

As soon as his cock was fully sheathed he started with a slow draw of his hips, sliding out of you, letting you adjust before he slammed back in again, earning your high pitched scream and his own guttural moan at the sensation. His hips working on autopilot as he kept that pace, the known smack smack smack of skin on skin and your juices squirting between the two of you.

Your eyes rolled back , hands gripping the sheets as you felt him reaching your deepest point, the pressure in your lower stomach weighing heavier as he kept hitting it, toes curling and spots blurring your vision.

The feeling reminded you of the first time you and ace had sex. Back in the college lecture room, when he’d locked the doors and took you for himself on the professors desk for hours, the professor was gone on vacation but you nor Ace were aware of that until after he carried you home.

The feeling of his cock hitting so perfectly it was the only thing on your mind, the only thing that mattered, having you pray to any gods and thanking them for giving him to you.

“Oooh fuck yes cumming again f’me? Oh fuck squirt baby keep squirting for me. Fuck yes.” His loud, whiny moans brought you back from your day dream, your legs wildly shaking against him as you came again, your pussy crying just as you were from the intense pleasure of the session. Your face so fucked out as you looked up at him that told Ace now was the time to ask.

He always did this to you, since that first time.

“You want me to cum inside baby? Can I? Wanna see if you are meant to forever be mine?” And of course you nodded; he knew you would. You’re already his, you have been, and he will always cum in you. What else is his stupid little girlfriend good for?

[fanwarriorfictions]

Help Me, Help You - Part Eight

Fenrys x F!reader

Summary- The reveal of Y/n’s powers leave both her and Fenrys reeling in the aftermath

Warnings- Panic attack(this is very dramatized, not exactly like a real panic attack), angsty as hell, I’m sorry

Series Masterlist

Part Eight

You’re a healer.

Two voices blending into one. One face, dark and covered in the blood of his own father, another face, golden and staring at her with a mixture of confusion and horror.

One, her brother, the one she’d just met, the one who’d saved her from the cold grip of death, who’d tried to hold her back the moment she’d seen her parents, slaughtered in her living room. Had watched in horror as she’d crawled through their blood, screaming for them.

One, Fenrys, the male who stood there, unnaturally still, only his eyes moving between her and the reflection of his face, where a scar should have been. The one that had been on his cheek, the one she’d felt below her palm when his lips had been stealing the breath from her lungs.

The scar had been severe, made by the brutal lashings of a dead queen, had stayed because he wished it, hadn’t let any of the talented healers from the torre, not even Yrene, touch the wound. He’d done that for a reason, Fenrys hadn’t told her but she could guess, and she had taken it away, at least a majority of it.

The section above his eye remained, only just beginning to heal into the smooth skin that matched the unmarked side of his face. It looked like a scar that had been healing for years, not months.

“You’re a healer,” Fenrys breathed again, not a question but a statement, “A healer.”

“I’m sorry.” It was the only thing she could say, choking on the words, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, Fenrys, I’m sorry.”

Fenrys finally moved then, flinching away from his reflection, away from her. He turned, on unsteady feet, as if he would make a run for the door.

She felt like collapsing, “I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Fenrys asked, finally finding more words, he searched her face as if he didn’t know who she was.

“I- I couldn’t,” she tripped over the words, how would she explain this to him? “She could- I wasn’t. I didn’t mean to.”

Fenrys seemed to connect his own dots, “It’s why you avoided the Torre, why you were so scared of it.”

It was the simplified reason, but yes, the tower of healers had nearly paralyzed her in fear when she’d seen it. And the idea of stepping foot in the white stone structure had her shaking with terror.

Y/n couldn’t stop the flow of tears down her face, and she almost sobbed when Fenrys lifted a hand to his cheek.

“I’m so sorry,” she cried again, a broken sound tearing from her chest, a guttural moan of pain.

Fenrys looks completely torn, as if there was a raging war inside his mind, she couldn’t tell what side was winning. The horror, at what she’d done, or whatever feelings he might have had for her.

“Gods, y/n,” Fenrys said, and he took a step towards her, stopping when she cried harder, louder, “It’s okay, it’s fine.”

It was far from fine, the lie was evident in his voice no matter how much he tried to hide it. She’d taken away his scar, taken away his choice, it wasn’t alright, none of it was.

“Please, I didn’t mean too,” she sobs, “Fenrys I swear, I didn’t-“

“I know, kitten, I know. It’s okay, I’m okay.”

She could feel it now, how her whole body was trembling, violently shaking as she took a step away from him, as if she could hide from what she had done, what she’d revealed.

It’s alright, stop it, come back, they’re gone, what are you doing, stop, you’re a healer, a healer, healer.

Her brother’s voice from all those years ago slammed into her. The memories of her mother, dead in her father’s arms, his blank lifeless eyes staring at her. The way it had felt to lay her healing hands on them to find nothing left to save.

“Breathe, Y/n,” Fenrys told her, “You gotta breathe.”

You’re a healer. Stop. You can’t bring them back. Healer. You can’t use your power. Healer. She’ll take you.

“Kitten, calm down,” Fenrys ordered her, his voice sounding like a wall of glass was separating them, “You gotta breathe.”

Healer…She’ll hurt you…

Who will?

“Hey!”

Maeve…

And the world went black.

Fenrys had panicked, when he’d seen her eyes roll back, seen her body collapse to the floor before he’d been able to catch her, screaming for help despite the late hour.

A guard had rushed into the room, he hadn’t even had time to speak before Fenrys was snarling at him to grab a healer, that he didn’t care if he had to rip one out of their bed in the Torre.

Fenrys had cradled her head in his lap, off of the hard floor. She looked near lifeless, if it wasn’t for the shallow rise and fall of her chest. He monitored her closely, counting the seconds between each breath, counting his own.

Fenrys was still reeling from the shock. Seeing his face, his brothers, healed again after nearly a year. He’d almost forgotten what he truly looked like without it, had resigned himself to never see himself again, was happy of it, deserving of it.

But it was gone, most of it at least, the section above his brow had remained, still carving its path towards his hairline, a the edges softer, less jagged.

It had begun to heal, the edges smoothing over, but she’d stopped before taking the whole of it away.

A healer, she was a healer, and a powerful one at that. To take scars that were already set by his fae healing, and make them disappear without a trace, without even thinking, completely on accident.

She was nearly as powerful as Yrene, maybe even stronger due to her fae heritage. And she’d hidden it away, clearly terrified of her own magic.

And that was the strangest part. He couldn’t figure out why she would be scared of it, the gift of healing was renowned, was one of the most sought out powers in the world, but she was terrified of it, ashamed of it.

When the poor tired looking healer had arrived, he let her look over Y/n, moving the female to the bed instead of the floor. Once she was safely settled on the soft mattress he moved back just far enough for the woman to do her evaluation.

“She’s alright, a panic attack,” the healer said simply, “hit her head when she fell but she shouldn’t have much more than a headache when she wakes, I-.”

“When will she?”

The healer gave Fenrys a patient smile, like she found his fussing amusing, “she may sleep the rest of the night, she may wake in a few minutes, let her rest.”

It was the last thing he wanted to do, he had to many questions, to many things he wanted to say, wanted to do. He wanted to know why she hadn’t told him, why she was so scared of her power, he wanted to tell her he didn’t blame her for taking away his scar, didn’t hate her for it despite the raging storm of emotion in him, he wanted to kiss her again and feel her soft lips on his own.

“What happened?” Sartaq’s breathless voice reached him, the prince searching the room with wide eyes, “Is she okay, what-“

And then he stopped, his eyes flaring wide as he took in Fenrys. Took in the smooth golden skin.

“Gods,” the prince breathed.

“Everything is fine,” Fenrys says, struggling to keep his chin up, to not duck his head down, to hide.

“You may go,” Sartaq turned to the healer and the guard who had brought her, “Thank you for your help.”

“It is my pleasure,” the woman bowed her head to the crown prince.

Sartaq waited till the healer and the guard had left before he spoke again, “Fenrys, what happened? Are you okay?”

Was he okay? Truly? With the scar he’d chosen for himself nearly gone? With the female who had taken it laying unconscious in his lap from the sheer panic and agony from doing it?

“No,” Fenrys said simply, “I’m not, but it doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter, my friend,” Sartaq argues, “Of course it matters.”

Fenrys shook his head, “She didn’t mean to, she didn’t know why I kept it, it’s not her fault.”

It wasn’t, how was she to know that he kept that scar as a punishment, not from Maeve, but from Connall. Kept it as if the knife he’d driven into his chest was what carved the wound into Fenrys’s face. As if his brother had spoken his final scathing thoughts and branded Fenrys with them.

“What do you mean?” Sartaq looked between them, asking again, “What happened?”

“She’s a healer,” Fenrys whispers, suddenly worried that he would wake her, and that the word would cause her to panic again, “She didn’t meant to do it, she was, we were-“

Sartaq seemed to connect the dots, “She wasn’t exactly in control of herself, was she?”

Fenrys hadn’t even been in control of himself, he’d been so caught up in her that he’d been seconds away from taking her to the bed she now laid unconscious. For months, he hadn’t been able to even think of taking someone to bed, but he’s almost done it, almost crossed that invisible line, for her.

“Did you know?” Sartaq asked.

Fenrys only shook his head, “No, I didn’t.”

Violet eyes she’d never seen before, staring at her, claiming her.

“What do we have here,” the voice, young yet ancient, wicked and enchanted.

“A little cat from the west,” she said, circling, stalking, “Hiding under my nose, beneath the wings of one of my soldiers.”

Paralyzed, unable to move, she could only watch those eyes as they trailed over her.

“Where is big brother now?” the creature asks, “No longer protecting you, hiding you beneath his wings, no one to save you now.”

Alone, she was entirely alone in this world.

“I will have you,” the queen said, “my little healer.”

“No!” She cried out, “No, no, no!”

Scrambling away from those eyes, finally free from whatever invisible chains held her down.

“Woah,” a voice, not the creatures “Hey, you’re alright, Y/n, calm down.”

A warm hand around her wrist, a shackle, a captor. He was with her, she realized, he served the queen, he would take her.

“No, no, no,” she sobs, “please, please let me go, don’t touch me, please!”

That hand ripped away from her like it had been burned, as if her skin was aflame, she wished she’d been born with fire in her veins instead of healing, she’d be able to fight her way out of this.

“Hey, you’re alright,” that voice said again, softer than before, “you’re alright, kitten, it was a dream.”

That nickname broke through some of the haze, she recognized it, felt the golden warmth that came with it.

“It was a dream,” he said again, “it’s okay, kitten, you’re okay.”

Her eyes finally took in her surroundings, the ornate room, the massive bed, the male sitting before her, another by the door.

She shied away from the second man, not quite familiar with him compared to the golden male before her. His onyx eyes were comforting, searching her own with intense curiosity.

“It’s okay, kitten,” he said, that nickname stirring her foggy mind, “you’re safe.”

“Fen?” Her mind finally supplied the name, “I- I don’t-“

“You’re okay.” Fenrys shifted closer to her, “You had a panic attack, passed out and bumped your head, you’re okay.”

Slowly, the memories started to right themselves, as if her brain had finally caught up with her. Riding with Kashin, arguing with Fenrys, kissing him, oh gods, kissing him, and healing him.

Her eyes snap to the smooth surface of his cheek, she’d taken his scar away.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

His eyes shutter for only a moment, telling her all she needed to know. She’d taken away his scar, taken it without thought, and none of it was alright, she’d ruined everything.

“It’s okay,” Fenrys says, interrupting her spiraling mind, “Kitten, I swear, I know you didn’t mean to.”

“But I did it anyway,” she says softly, her voice broken.

Those onyx eyes keep searching her, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

The fear wrapped around her chest, binding her, restricting her lungs. A warm hand around her wrist, a comfort, a friend, a tether to keep her from drowning.

“I was scared,” she gasps, drawing in a large breath, “I’ve been scared my whole life, since the day Vaughan rescued me from that lake.”

She realized that the crown prince was still standing by the door, his eyes averted but body still, listening. She wanted him to leave, didn’t want to share this with anyone but Fenrys.

Y/n forced herself to keep talking, “Since the day he realized I was a healer, when I’d crawled through their blood and tried to heal my parents, murdered by his own father.”

Fenrys gently squeezed her wrist, a quiet reassurance that he was there, that he was listening, that he understood that pain, that she was safe.

“Maeve was known to collect healers, keep them like pets,” Y/n says shakily, “Vaughan knew that she would take me too, he’d already been serving her for a century by that point, he knew what she did to her pets.”

The hand at her wrist shook a little, and she knew that he’d been one of hers, didn’t know exactly what she had done to him, beyond what he’d told her of his brother’s death, but she knew there was more.

“We hid my powers, hid me,” she continued, “No one in Doranelle knew I existed anyway, to keep me safe, he kept his visits short, he didn’t speak of me to anyone, and I hid in that village, in the cottage my parents died in, by the lake I’d almost drowned in, terrrified that the queen would come and take me at any moment. I never used my power, even by myself, over time, I guess my fear of Maeve turned into fear of myself, of healers.”

She didn’t blame her brother for any of it, but she recognized that her fear, her lack of control, was because of him hiding her away, locked in that little village by herself for nearly a century and a half.

The last time she’d seen him, she had begged him to stay with her, to do anything to keep her from losing her mind. But he’d refused, to keep her safe, away from Maeve, and she’d told him to never come back.

And she’s spent the last twenty years by herself, hoping he’d come home, and when he didn’t, even after Maeve had been slain, she knew he never would.

“She’s gone,” Fenrys said gently, his free hand lifting to her cheek, “she can’t hurt you anymore, I swear it, kitten, I drove the sword through her chest myself.”

She wondered if he told himself those words everyday, if that’s why he kept the scars, as a reminder that no matter what she’d done to him, he was the one who survived. And the creature that haunted both of their nightmares was dead, and never coming back.

Tag List

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[autumnleaves1991-blog]

Happy thirsty Thursday! Have a doozy one for you! Will's girl writes erotic novels. Which he reads from time to time. One day he comes home to see her laptop was opened. Reads part of the story. He got so turned on. He wants to act out that scene with her.

Oh, yes. Thank you for making a request, bestie! Here's a little drabble for you.

Pairing: William Ironhead Miller X Female Reader

Warnings: 18 + implied smut, language.

"Babe!" you stand and stretch, "I'm going to make a cup of tea, you want anything?"

"A cup of tea sounds nice, honey, thank you!" Will shouts from the bathroom, washing his hands and smiling at seeing you sashay toward the kitchen.

He sits down on the couch, moving your laptop over and getting curious when he sees the amount of words you've typed into the google doc. Curiosity gets the better of him and he reads:

“Oh no you don’t,” he grabs your hips, pulling you back and pounding into you. The headboard smacks against the wall, the rabbit moving faster and vibrating harder as he picks up speed.

The feeling is indescribable, the warmth growing deep in your belly and when he presses your back down into the mattress and fucks you hard using his other hand to push the rabbit onto your clit you scream. It’s guttural and comes from somewhere deep inside you. Ray shouts your name but it sounds foggy like you’re underwater, the vibrating moves down to a light tremble and your body goes slack.

"You okay, babe?" you return from the kitchen holding the two steaming mugs. Will is staring hard at the screen of the computer and you freeze, "whatcha reading there, babe?"

He doesn't respond only looking between you and the laptop. He clears his throat, coughing slightly, and pointing towards the computer. "Is this what you're into?"

You think back to the scene you'd been writing the heroine being tied up and fucked with both a rabbit dildo and his cock in her ass at the same time. "Uhm," you put down the cups of tea, and wrap your arms around yourself, "I mean I've always fantasized-" the words barely leave your mouth before he's off the couch, tossing you over his shoulder. "WILL!" you shout, pressing on his back, "what are you doing?!"

"Time to make those fantasies a reality baby," he runs to the bedroom, you giggling happily the whole way.

"Well I could always use more content."

[kitkatscabinet]

Whumptober - 04: Kidnapped

John Price x gn! reader

Warnings: murder, mention of torture. Kind of strayed a little from the prompt I feel

It's pure luck that you notice, headphones catching on your laundry and pulling them from your ears just as the door bursts open. You know John isn't supposed to be home yet, not for a few more weeks. Freezing for a few seconds you strain your ears, already dialling John's number as you make out masculine voices from the foyer.

The confirmation that, yes, people have just broken into your house snaps your body into action. You lock the bathroom door from the inside then close it, running as quickly and quietly as you can to the bedroom.

The call goes to voicemail and you internally swear, dialling him once more. Again you don't get through and you try not to fume at John for working when you're about to be killed. There’s no point calling the police, they won’t arrive in time, you just want to hear your husband's voice one last time. 

You work your way through his coworker's numbers before surprisingly, it's Simon who answers. He doesn't even get a second to speak before you're hissing at him.

“There’s Russians in my house!” If your life weren’t in mortal peril you’d probably have laughed at the usually collected man’s brief moment of panic. “At least two” You’re already answering his unasked question, years of being John’s partner leaving you slightly more prepared than the average civilian. 

Whilst you're listening to Simon on the other hand of the line you've managed to rifle through the bedside drawer until you pull out a long serrated blade.

A knife meant you had to get close, but it was quiet, and far more readily available than the gun. Closing the drawer quietly, you rush back to the door. However, instead of closing it, you keep it open, hiding behind the wood and waiting for an opportunity.

You white knuckle the handle, trying to stop your body from shaking as the sound of the bathroom break-in attempt filters down the hallway.

You barely register that it’s John in your ear now over the blood roaring in your ears, a mix of adrenaline and terror leaving you shaking. He’s asking questions, barely concealed panic tinging his every word, but you’re far too scared to answer in case you’re heard. 

Heavy boots thud against the floor as an irritated voice filters through the hallway, one of the men is coming closer and it takes everything in you not to cry as John assures you that help is on the way and will be there soon. 

You both know that’s a lie.  

He’s out of the country, and even if his colleagues can contact the police it will likely be far too late. You want to tell him you love him, want to wax lyrical on how he’s the greatest thing that’s ever happened to you. At this moment you have so many regrets, so many unvoiced thoughts that you can’t verbalise because it will give you away. 

The door you’re hiding behind creaks slightly as it’s pushed further open and silently you slide sideways to avoid acting as a human doorstop. You see a broad back, and in a stroke of luck, there’s no tactical gear to protect any vital points. Likely in an attempt at anonymity, but it doesn’t matter, you know to go for the throat. He walks towards the closed closet doors, smug triumph in his voice as he thinks he’s found you. 

You step towards him as quickly and quietly as possible. As you get within striking distance he turns, but unfortunately for him, you’ve already built up momentum and are witness to the surprise on his face as the serrated blade slices through the skin of his neck like butter. 

You know better than to stab, you don’t possess the strength, the downside though, is the torrential spray of blood that gushes from the violently slit throat. 

His blood covers you as the man makes guttural choking noises, unable to do anything else with his ruined vocal cords. John’s screaming on the other end of the phone, demanding to know what’s happened but you’ve frozen in shock. 

Those few frozen seconds prove to be your downfall, you’ve forgotten there are two assailants, and the other man has busted down the door of the bathroom and found it empty already. 

“Drop the knife!” It’s a command, and after looking up at the furious Russian man aiming a gun at you, it’s one you quickly follow. A whimper escapes you, frightened tears finally pouring down your cheeks as you await your death. 

John’s still begging you to answer him and with courage you didn't know you possessed you manage to whisper one last ‘I love you’ before your phone is grabbed and crushed beneath the man’s heel. 

“Sorry ‘bout this.” The man sneers and you barely have the time to think that he doesn’t look or sound very sorry before the butt of his gun meets your temple and the world goes black. 

From the moment Simon had burst into the room interrupting his meeting with Lawell, phone in hand and panic in his widened eyes John knew something was terribly, terribly wrong. 

He’s up from his chair so quickly that it falls over, and barking at Simon to update him in on the situation. The phone is snatched from his lieutenant's grip and placed against his ear as he tries to get you to respond. 

He hears your shaky breaths and some vaguely angry shouting in the background but you never respond. He hears your fear, hears the telltale gurgles of a dying man but his heart doesn’t stop until he hears those three words. 

There’s a resigned finality to them and Price has tears in his eyes as he repeats the words in a desperate chant, unable to do anything more than listen as you scream and the line goes dead. 

He must’ve blacked out temporarily after that, because when he came to a few seconds later Simon was holding him up and the man’s phone was shattered into pieces on the other side of the room. 

It’s not until hours later that he gets an update. The police had arrived to find a man dead on the carpet of your bedroom, throat violently slit, but no sign of you. 

The following week was torture. He barely ate and didn't sleep until his body physically gave out. The boys were worried, and on more than one occasion he’d snapped. If it wasn’t for Simon’s interference he might have even hit Soap simply for trying to get his captain to rest. 

It’s another week before they finally get any news, and it comes in the form of a bloodied box containing a USB. Immediately John knows what it is and even as his men beg for him not to watch, even as the horror floods his veins and the bile fills his mouth he can’t bring himself to tear his gaze away from the screen in front of him. 

You’re chained to a chair, soaking wet, bloody and shaking. He watches as a man runs a knife down your collarbone and you scream, crying and begging for John. 

It’s a warning. To back off, or you’ll die. 

The video cuts off with another one of your screams and a mocking accented voice letting John know that this is all his fault.

[itsagoodluckkiss]

My Firefly

Pairing: Ace x Reader

Warnings: Major character death, hurt no comfort, full of angst, pure depression

Words: 863

Note: As always, english is not my first language so I'm sorry for any mistakes. No beta reading, we die like men in this one *cough*. I write with female reader in mind but this has no mentions of gender, take it as you want. No use of Y/N. This was inspired by Sufjan Stevens' "Fourth Of July". I cried writing it. I'm sorry. You've been warned.

The evil it spread like a fever ahead, it was night when you died, my firefly.

What could I have said to raise you from the dead, oh could I be the sky on the 4th of July?

You’ve come to realize, sometimes, love is just not enough. And you’d have to live the rest of your life with that realization. You stood above your dead lover, his once warm body that held you through the harshest winters, now laid cold on the bed, waiting for the time to go to his final resting place. You had cleaned him, covered his fatal wounds, dressed him in the clothes he wore when you first met him, abroad the Moby Dick. His body and soul had gone through enough disgrace. The least you could offer him now was peace.

That night at Marineford, you died alongside Ace. Your body was just a shadow now, cursed to roam the earth until the day you would see him again. When his weak body was cradled into his brother’s arms, his eyes fell on you across the battlefield. And he smiled. He smiled before he crashed to the ground. The guttural screams of Luffy were slightly louder than your cries as you cursed the world around you.

Everything was a blur after that. You knew you had helped his brother escape, Ace’s will had to live on. After the Red Hair Pirates stopped the war and the marines initially refused to return the bodies of your captain and lover to put them on display, you were ready to snap. You weren’t able to even say goodbye to him! How much more could you bare? ‘Luckily’, the bodies were retrieved and you could bury and grieve them properly.

And now there you stood, caressing the face you’ve come to love more than yourself, knowing it would be the last time you did.

“Such a funny though to wrap you up in cloth… do you find it alright, my firefly?”

You couldn’t stop your eyes from welling up, hot tears running down your cheeks. You doubted they would ever stop. You sat beside him. He looked like he was sleeping and you could almost see the slight smile on his lips he wore when he left you. Your head rested on his shoulder, your hand running above the place his heart was supposed to be. Instead of a strong heartbeat, it was dead silent.

“What wouldn’t I do for you to be here now… I’m sorry…”, you sobbed.

It finally hit you for good. He won’t come back to you like he promised. You’d never see those brown eyes again. You won’t get to hug his form or kiss his lips again. Where would you stand now if not next to him?

“I can’t… Ace I can’t… I can’t do this, Ace…” , you screeched, choked out by your sobs.

You know what he would say to you. That you had to survive, to hold on tight, to live a life with no regrets. You didn’t think you could do it. Your mind takes you back to that one night.

“I regret meeting you so late, firefly… Wish I’d known you sooner. I think you would have saved me a lot of nightmares.”, you said with your head on his chest, his hands wrapped around you, in a comforting embrace as you both laid on your shared bed in the room of the ship.

“Don’t think about this now, yes? We have forever ahead of us. It will always be you I come back to”, he smiled down at you, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“You want stay with me? Forever?”

“There’s nothing in this world I want more. I never thought I would find someone that loves me like you do. And I love you with my whole heart as well. I want you to live on with nothing dragging you behind, and I’ll try my hardest to give this life to you.”

“You have no idea how much I love you, Ace…”, you were on the verge of tears at his sweet words, you hand slipping into his, your fingers intertwining. “Forever then?”

“Forever.”

But forever would never come now. And you relied too much on that future. Now you had nothing. Nothing to hold on now, nothing and no one else to live for. And you would live in this cruel world from now on, with the regret that you were too weak to save the love of your life. Until your very last breath.

Your hands cupped his face, caressing his cheeks as you placed your lips on his for the last time. One last goodbye, until the day you would see him again.

Now you sat alone in front of his grave where your home was buried. Your fingers dig in the fresh soil, as if wanting to be buried next to him. His body was carried with care to his last stop. But you didn’t have anywhere to go now. Your head looks at the stars, as if waiting to see your own up there. Your home was Ace. And you’d wait for him.

“Goodbye, my firefly… Until we meet again…”

[prismatic-starstuff]

Warmth.

— The Emperor x gender-neutral!Reader.

18+ only content under the cut, minors stay away.

CW: tentacles, sex with a mind flayer, everything you'd expect from this character

Warmth envelops you; inside, outside, in ways that you hadn't even known possible. The mouth between your thighs welcomes you with a hot and slick eagerness; the tentacle that slides into your rear mirrors the presence that penetrates deep into your mind.

"Perfect. You are... perfect."

The Emperor's voice is with you, around you, in you; ringing in your head sweeter and louder than any hymn ever has. The sting of its long nails squeezing into your widely parted thighs only adds to the sensation, the pleasure; your body responds to it, trembles beneath it, desires it.

"Yes, just like that. Relax yourself. Enjoy it... Enjoy me."

Its mouth is occupied, but it needs no mouth to speak. It makes no effort to hide its own arousal; the deep timbre of its mental voice is breathy, eager, just as any lover's whisper might be— except this one is not in your ear, it is in your brain.

The wetness of its tongue works you in every way you love; no doubt it has gleaned that knowledge from your mind, so willingly laid open for it. Its tentacle is tender inside you, the push and pull forming a rhythm with the long strokes of its tongue; two-pronged delight that steadily builds inside you, mingling with the wonderful fuzziness in your mind to make you feel as though you're floating.

The Emperor moans shamelessly for you through your mental connection with it, growls for you somewhere deep in its throat. Its piercing violet eyes are closed; you can see as much as feel just how focused it is on you.

You're almost mindless. The attention to your body is setting every nerve alight; the connection in your brain carries pleasure between you both deeper than you'd ever felt it before. Forming a coherent thought is a nearly impossible task, but nevertheless, you try...

In your mind, you reach out for the Emperor; you let your consciousness brush against its own.

You're rewarded immediately with a guttural purr and a delighted groan in your head.

"Again."

Its voice is positively desperate; its fingers clutching at your thighs so tightly that its nails almost draw blood. The slick tongue between your legs works more eagerly now, and you can feel it so clearly in your mind; the Emperor is hungry for you.

You reach out via your connection again, and your mutual pleasure is rising to heights that make you want to scream. The heat is intense; not just the physical heat, but the heat of its presence in your brain. In every way, you are surrounded; by its body, by its mind, by its care.

Both your hands find its head; not to draw it closer - you're not sure if that would even be possible - but because you need something to hold onto, something to ground you even a little as the two of you hurtle together towards utter bliss.

The Emperor knows just how close you are. Your pleasure is its, its pleasure is yours; it is every bit as close as you are. Its tentacle inside you wriggles and writhes, pumps in and out with such relentless vigour; it needs you just as much as you need it, and it is making no secret of this fact.

"Yes... yes... hold nothing back..."

Its voice in your brain is as silky as ever, but it carries a certain urgency; an undeniable neediness. Its tentacles - aside from the one that's driving you dangerously close to madness - lovingly trail across your skin; groping, caressing, their touch blissfully cool against your heated skin.

"Give it to me..."

The feeling rises, tightens, heightens; you feel it in your skull, in your loins, in your very being. Your body trembles, quivers, shakes...

Those piercing eyes open to meet yours; and the Emperor's mental presence is right against your own, just as its body is right against your own.

"Give everything to me..."

Your body can take no more. Ecstasy blooms in you; it bursts and it spreads through you in tendrils, and your hips lift and your back arches as you feel it everywhere.

The Emperor, you realise, is feeling it too. Its fingers and its caressing tentacles clutch at you so tightly, and you can feel the tentacle inside you quivering; it's giving the sweetest groans in your mind, a low growling sound purring without cease in its throat. Its pleasure spills down your mental connection into your mind, and yours flows into it just the same; both of you lost to not only your own climax, but each other's.

And as you both bask in the glory of your shared release, you become aware that you're not only receiving the Emperor's pleasure through your mental connection, but its feelings too; affection, and adoration, and such a sweet and welcoming warmth.

[lifblogs]

We Do This Together

Week 3

Prompt: “It’s just a scratch.”

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Word Count: 2599

Summary: Tantiss is embroiled in battle. Crosshair has been singled out by CX-2. During the fight, CX-2’s helmet comes free, and Crosshair is met with an all-too familiar face.

WARNINGS: Graphic Depictions of Violence

READ ON AO3

Crosshair’s breath caught when the operative’s helmet came off in his grip. Everything seemed to still as they froze in their stances, even the world’s very rotation at the whims of what happened on this pitted and half-destroyed platform.

No. No, no.

This was impossible. How?

Crosshair’s panting from the fight renewed, his heart pumping hard, adrenaline still shooting like cold-hot needles through his system. And his stomach clenched, feeling like it might fall right out of him. The ruined durasteel platform seemed to drop out from beneath him from where he crouched; the muggy, smoky, night air was some other man’s air; the flames and explosions nothing but a background that was fading away like a nearly-forgotten dream. Or perhaps the dream was before him.

Crosshair tried to speak.

His breath caught.

When he did speak he realized it was with a guttural sob, the name wrenched out from his twisted insides, injected with countless days and moments of grief, with head-spinning confusion, and the deepest horror born right in the bowels of this cursed mountain: “Tech.”

The operative—Tech—had had his face set in a grimace, a hatred of some sort. At this name—his name—his features softened. No longer was he looking at Crosshair like he was planning best how to defeat him. His eyes were wide, vulnerable.

Then he frowned, brows scrunching together.

“Why… Why would you say that? What does it mean?”

Shaking, wanting to look for his family amidst the screams and blood and fire coming back to him, but knowing he couldn’t take his eyes off of the man in front of him, Crosshair stayed, he held his ground. Perhaps he couldn’t even move as it was, or look elsewhere. What if he blinked and Tech was gone? His eyes burned without the safety of his helmet on.

“That’s…” He licked his dry lips, but to no avail. “That’s your name,” Crosshair got out.

Horror still clenched his gut. Horror from those months they’d thought him dead, from… from everything. They’d failed him.

They’d failed him.

Crosshair couldn’t fail him now.

Tech was missing his left eye, a cybernetic one in place of his real one, scars ripping furrows across the left side of his face.

Crosshair looked him over, knowing these were surely not the only injuries he’d sustained from his fall.

Staring across from him was suffering in its deepest form, twin to his own, perhaps.

I did this.

“I… I don’t have a name.”

Crosshair somehow managed to shuffle closer. What few pieces were left of his heart broke when Tech moved back, moved away from him. His head was down now, and he was clearly thinking hard.

“Yes, you do. You do. Your name is Tech. I’m… I’m your brother. Crosshair.”

“I—”

Crosshair was on his knees, begging, “Please. Please, just… just listen to me. You’re a clone, a defective clone, made on Kamino, part of Clone Force 99, the Bad Batch. Your number is CT-9902, and your name—your name—is Tech. You chose it because you’re smart—smarter than anyone—you’re good with technology, with everything you put your mind to.”

“No. No, no. I’m CX-2.”

“You love your datapad (we could barely get your head out of it some days), you love languages, you record everything even when it annoys the ever-living shab out of us, you love to talk about the weirdest creatures out there, your favorite color is dark blue because it makes you think of the blue in clear night skies, the blue between the stars, pistols are your favorite type of blaster, you love to pull the craziest stunts while flying, you… you have a family: me, Hunter, Wrecker, Echo, Omega. And there’s someone waiting for you. Phee? You told her all about my sparkling personality, you—you told her about me even though I was still with the Empire. Somehow I still mattered to you then. And you matter to me… to us.”

Tech was sounding out each of the names Crosshair had spoken, as if trying to see if anything felt familiar, like trying to put stars back in a sky full of holes.

“Please, you have to believe me.”

Tech stilled, and so did Crosshair.

When Tech looked up there was a grim determination, something burning in his right eye, though tears tracked down his cheeks, running in rivulets through his scars.

The hot air was like mud, leaving Crosshair barely able to move. All he could do was watch as Tech moved into the perfect stance to level his blaster at him: kneeling on one leg, torso perfectly straight, sights lined up. Crosshair had faced down the barrels of many blasters, even of tanks, but nothing frightened him more than this one.

“I have to assume this is either some tactic to stall for time, to try and control me, or… you’ve lost your mind.”

Crosshair ducked and rolled. Tech fired.

Crosshair knew he had to end this fight quickly. Tech would kill him.

With a cry he launched himself at Tech. He ended up on top of him, pushing hard against his rifle so he couldn’t use it.

“You’re my brother,” Crosshair insisted.

Tech fired, blast going sideways, and the recoil did its job, knocking Crosshair off balance.

“I am no one!” he cried, whacking Crosshair in the temple with his rifle.

Crosshair grunted. His world spun, nearly going black. Before he could gather himself, Tech was crashing into him, getting him onto his back. The butt of Tech’s rifle smashed against his chest, and he coughed, the air driven out of him.

“I have no one!” he insisted. “No family, no brothers, nothing but what Dr. Hemlock has given me.”

Every few words were punctuated with a blow.

Crosshair grabbed Tech’s arm, and he tried to get a knee under him, but Tech’s grip was too strong.

“Not… true,” Crosshair forced out.

Tech punched him.

He once again fought to stay conscious.

Then Tech grabbed his armor, lifting him up to snarl in his face, “Then what do I have?”

“You have me.”

Tech dropped him, and actually got up. Crosshair tried to lift himself up, but his head was spinning and pounding, his face throbbing and swelling from multiple blows. Blood was hot and wet on his face.

Tech stood, rifle leveled at him. Crosshair wondered if this would be the last thing he ever saw, and he hoped it wouldn’t. Not because he didn’t want to die (of course he didn’t), but because this would mean he had failed. Tech, who had apparently been a captive of the Empire this entire time, would remain so, their brother perhaps lost to them forever.

Crosshair wanted to rest his head back down in defeat, but the least he owed Tech was to stare his own death, his own failure, right in the eye.

“No, I don’t.”

A gunship laser hit a meter from Tech’s left. Maybe it was targeting Tech, maybe Crosshair, maybe it was nothing but an accident. The reason didn’t matter. It had happened.

Crosshair thought maybe he screamed as he watched Tech get thrown off his feet, tumbling through the air in a painful dance of twisted limbs. A human body was not meant to withstand that; even the force of the blast itself was surely too much to withstand. Fire erupted near him, debris rained down in squealing and crashing metal. The blast was deafening, and Crosshair shoved himself up onto his hands and knees. He’d lost sight of Tech and where he’d landed through all the fire.

Struggling to catch his breath, Crosshair tried to stand. The world dropped out beneath him.

He came to on his stomach, not sure what he was looking at, confused as to why he hurt so much. Sound was filtering back into him.

He lifted up his head, exploring his surroundings. Darkness and flames, durasteel, ruin.

Where am I?

It came back to him, and he burst into action, crawling, and scrambling across the platform.

Tech. Have to find Tech.

Crosshair saw his legs sticking out from under debris. He rushed over, and groaned as he moved the ripped up metal off of him, muscles straining.

Blood. Check for any blood, injuries.

A pipe was pinning Tech’s left leg, perhaps crushing it. Crosshair tried in vain to move it. It only budged a few centimeters, if that.

He examined Tech’s torso, his face, feeling him over.

He couldn’t find anything serious, but he knew something could be wrong internally that he couldn’t see.

Tech coughed, blinking his eyes open. Crosshair held his head in one hand, and was surprised to feel something harder than bone at the back of his head. A metal plate? Some kind of implant?

Oh, Tech.

Tech coughed, and Crosshair held him close.

Usually comforting words weren’t his style, but they spilled out of his mouth now like what he imagined a prayer might be, “You’re okay, you’re okay. I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

Tech reached up with a shaking hand and touched Crosshair’s face, following the lines of his tattoo.

“Crosshair?”

Crosshair would have broken out into a grin if not for the dire situation. Had he hit his head, knocking some memory loose?

“Yes, yes, it’s me.”

Kriff, he was crying again. He sniffled, and tried to hold in a sob.

Tech laughed, maybe the first and only laugh Tantiss would ever know. Some of its darkness crept away.

“You’ve gotten so talkative,” Tech observed.

“Well, I had to fill in for you, didn’t I? Now, are you okay? What hurts? Tell me—your leg?”

Tech looked down.

“That one isn’t real anyway. Not anymore.”

“I’m… sorry” was all he could say, no words in any language across the galaxy able to encompass the devastation wrought on their family.

“For what? You… didn’t lock me in here, you didn’t make me into this.” His voice was dark with hatred and shame.

“But I heard what happened. You tried to rescue me. You fell.”

“It was… my choice. My choice.”

“I got out,” Crosshair informed him, words practically punched right out of him. “Omega—s-she got me out. She finished your mission.”

Tech had a wide grin on his face that Crosshair could half-attribute to a possible concussion (something they both currently shared), but the rest was surely at Omega’s success.

“How about I get you out this time?”

Tech’s lips pulled together, chest heaving on a sharp inhale. “Crosshair.”

Fire raged around them, Crosshair and Tech starting to cough from all the smoke.

Crosshair tried to shove the large pipe aside, but to make matters worse, the other end was angled against what remained of the wall in such a way that it was stuck.

Tech sat up, mouth going a bit green around the edges, yet he tried to help.

“It is of no use. I require a blaster,” Tech said.

Crosshair paused.

“Don’t you trust me?”

Crosshair met Tech’s eyes, and he said, “Following your previous line of thinking, I have to work under the assumption that you’re pretending to know me so I can help you survive. Without me you’d die. I’m sorry, but I have to consider every odd.”

“I understand.”

Crosshair grabbed Tech’s rifle since he had lost his own, feeling odd holding it, feeling odd that Tech could even now use a rifle with such proficiency.

He shook that from his mind.

“What do I do?” he asked.

Tech directed him where to shoot—not at the pipe, but his leg. Crosshair hesitated, part of his brain not up to speed with the fact that this was a mechno-leg he was going to be firing at, and not a flesh one.

Crosshair took aim.

His right hand trembled.

Oh, please, no.

“Crosshair? Crosshair, what’s wrong?”

“I… I can’t do it.”

“You have perfect aim. You can—”

“No, I don’t!” he cried, ducking his head to hide his face. “That’s the problem, I don’t. Not anymore.” Crosshair was crying in fitful sobs punctuated by coughs. His shoulders slumped. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this.”

“Fine, I do not really care whether you possess perfect aim or not. We need to get out of here.” Tech’s voice lost its composure. “Please, I… I have to get out.”

“You’re asking the wrong soldier.”

To Crosshair’s surprise Tech let out a frustrated growl. “For once you need to not be so severe and unyielding with yourself. The calculated odds are that you will hit my leg more times than not. This is the right plan. I believe in you.”

“Since when do you have belief?” Crosshair scoffed.

“Clearly, you have not been paying attention. I… I believe in my family,” he said, the words slow like he was surprised to find them true, surprised his mind was his own. “I believe in you.”

Crosshair faced him, and the surety in Tech’s gaze gave his body strength.

He lifted the rifle.

“Don’t put it right against my leg,” Tech instructed. “The force of the blasts could injure me, and I’d rather not have part of my spine remade again.”

Crosshair’s breath caught at the admittance of the pain his brother had suffered through.

Breathe. Just breathe. That was getting more and more difficult by the moment, the roaring of hot flames loud in his ears, heat hitting him like a solid object.

“Ready?”

“Go.”

Crosshair fired. The blast barely hit Tech’s leg. A scream wanted to leave him, but he held it in, gritting his teeth, chest heaving. He was shuddering.

“Again.”

Crosshair inhaled.

Exhale.

Squeeze the trigger.

The blast hit, burning through a third of Tech’s leg, sparks firing. He groaned, but otherwise made no protest.

With three more shots, Tech’s mechno-leg was completely separated above the knee.

Crosshair let out a hurried breath of triumph, and he released the rifle, leaning forward to wrap an arm around Tech to help him up.

Debris shifted and landed where Tech had been stuck. Sparks flew up, Crosshair throwing up an arm to shield their eyes. His stung, and even with his lids closed orange flickered in his vision.

They both struggled to properly stand, and then struggled even more to remain standing once that first feat had been accomplished.

Together they hobbled out of the fires. As they half-sat half-fell to the platform, leaning against each other to stay up, Crosshair noticed the back of Tech’s head was bleeding. He put a hand to it. The blood seemed to be coming from above the plate.

Tech winced. “I’m fine.”

Then he reached for Crosshair’s bloodied face, the injuries he’d given him.

Crosshair smiled.

“It’s just a scratch.”

Crosshair and Tech laughed together, tears running down their soot-blackened faces. Their foreheads pressed together, and that’s when Crosshair knew for sure that Tech was himself again, that his brother was able to come home.

Crosshair searched around for his helmet, which he could not find, and when he explained he needed his comm, Tech started fidgeting with a band on his armor.

Through Tech’s brilliance they were soon hearing their family’s voices, and they were okay, they were alive. Omega was free. Oh, Omega. They could almost, all of them, finally go home. They could go home.

Tech handed over the band. “Here.”

Crosshair couldn’t stop grinning.

“Hunter,” he said, watching the battle die down, gunships flying through the air across a brilliant dawn Tantiss had surely never seen the likes of before, a dawn they could all see, “you’re never going to believe this.”

[midnight-talescape]

𝐿𝒾𝒶𝓇 (𝒮𝓊𝓀𝓊𝓃𝒶 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇)

Kinktober Day 23: Face Abdomensitting

I had so much random idea i couldn’t put in, but also Sukuna abs mouth things is a straight up menace and you cant tell me otherwise.

The plots a little weird because i took it from a different non sex related prompt i will never write lol

Warning: violent sex, non con, etc, etc you get the point not for kid

Genre: filthy filthy smut

Word Count: 2369

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Sukuna groaned as he opened his eyes, before letting out a noise of confusion.

He’s sitting under a maple tree and the setting sun is shining into his eyes.

Growling he squinted his eyes from the sun.

Where the fuck am I?

His confusion deepened when he noticed he was missing a set of arms and his hair was longer, draping behind him in a pink river.

How long has it been since he looked like this?

“Sukuna!”

Sukuna blinked slowly, his confusion forgotten when he heard a familiar voice calling his name.

Someone was barreling toward him, he couldn't tell who they were. But his body seems to remember, almost instinctively he held out his arms and caught them in his arms.

“Sukuna! Sukuna! I missed you!” Your cheerful voice reached his ears and he tightened his arms around you,

“(Y/N)?” Sukuna's voice was laced with confusion,

You shouldn't be here, you’re…. What happened to you? Why couldn't he remember?

“Sukuna, are you alright?” You asked waving your hand in front of him,

“…yes,” Sukuna answered ignoring his confusion, you were here and that’s all that mattered,

He watched as you chattered around him, he was confused and dazed but for the first time in a long time, he felt content.

But why? What couldn't he remember?

“…Sukuna you’re leaving tomorrow right?” He broke out of his daze when you asked him a question,

Right, he had to leave tomorrow.

For what?

Before he could delve into that the scene in front of him changed, your face distorted in front of him.

He reached out his hand to grab you, but his hand passed right through you.

When his eyes cleared again, he was surrounded by people all chattering about something.

Something about a sacrifice.

Sukuna's eyes widen as his brain finally clears.

You died. You died a thousand years ago. Before he became what he is now.

Growling his eyes blaze red and his second pair of arms burst out of his body. Within seconds he violently ripped through the people around him.

His body was covered in blood, he looked in the direction he knew you would be in, before starting to run there.

Heart pounding he reached the cave he remembered you were sacrificed in.

It was covered in your blood.

Just like he remembered so vividly all those years ago.

The day he lost the one thing that binds him to humanity.

He was too late.

Just like he was too late all those years ago.

With an angry roar, he ripped through the people who crowded the cave, ripping their hearts out with his bare hand and leaving behind a trail of carnage as he made his way to you.

Eyes red and panting heavily he reached your cold lifeless body. He let out a guttural scream, like a beast who lost the one thing he held dear.

He was feeling the despair and pain from all those years ago all over again.

The pain and despair he thought he had forgotten in his years of imprisonment.

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With a loud growl, Sukuna opened his eyes, breathing heavily as he took in his surroundings.

He’s still sitting on his throne of skull.

There's no tree, no sun, nothing but blood and skulls.

And there's no (Y/N)…

He was alone.

“Sukuna, what happened? I heard you screaming?”

Came Yuji’s voice, from above his head.

Okay maybe not fully alone…

Just my luck the annoying brat heard me…

His eyes flared red, irritated at his presence.

“Nothing that concerns you, brat,” he said coldly, “What do you want?”

Let him say something wrong, one small mistake… Then I have an excuse to take out my frustrations.

Sukuna thought to himself, his crimson eyes burning.

Yuji paused for a moment before deciding it was better not to press.

Sukuna closed his eyes and scoffed, before zoning out on whatever he was saying.

“…we have a new teacher today and they’re super pretty!”

"Oh really?" Despite the mix of emotions, Sukuna felt, his interest was piqued "Please elaborate,"

Yuji excitedly begins to describe you to Sukuna, clearly excited over the prospect of a new teacher..

“…their name is (Y/N), look there they are!”

Sukuna’s head snapped up to look at you. His heart skipped a beat the second he laid his eyes on you.

“What did you say their name was again?” Sukuna's voice was hoarse as he asked this, but he knew it was you the second he saw you again,

“…their name is (Y/N)? Why d-“

Sukuna didn't bother hearing the rest of the sentence, immediately pulling your consciousness into his domain.

As you fell into his domain from the sky (?) he caught you in his arms, before clutching your tiny frame against his body as if trying to meld you into his body.

Your body, your scent, and your very presence were triggering something deep within him. Something primal.

His body filled with hunger, aching to devour you. It was the hunger of a beast who craved something that was once his.

Something that belonged solely to him.

Something primal, animalistic, and possessive.

You opened your eyes, confused about where you were and what happened.

You looked up to see Sukuna looking down at you with a dark look in his eyes, as he gave you an eerie smile.

He looked almost feral, his gaze not leaving you for a single moment.

Sukuna wanted you, he had to have you. He needed you like he needed his next breath to live.

He was a starved animal, eager to devour you alive.

“S-sukuna?” You said quietly, confused but not scared.

Something inside you finds familiarity in him like your soul remembers him even though your mind doesn’t.

The way his name seemed to spill from your mouth was like music to his ears, his entire being pulsated with pure lust for you.

Mine.

The word reverberated in his thoughts as he looked deep into your eyes, his eyes narrowed to slits. He pressed you closer to his chest, your figure felt warm and small in his arms as he let out a deep growl in your ear.

"Did you miss me, little one?"

“Do I know you from before?” You ask quietly,

He let out a deep chuckle as he stroked your face,

"You may not remember, but you still belong to me. Even after death."

He pressed his forehead to yours, his red eyes burning. He had to have you. Right now.

"I'm here to take back what's mine."

Your eyes widened as you felt his fang dig into your neck ferociously as if he wanted to rip out a piece of your flesh.

Sukuna let out a satisfied growl as he drank your blood,

You gasped and tried to push him away from you, but Sukuna wouldn’t let you go. Gripping you tightly with all of his arms, forcing you to stay still as he practically drains you.

As you are about to pass out Sukuna lets go of your neck and rips off your clothing.

“?!” You looked at him unsure of how things got to this point.

Looking at your eyes and seeing the confusion in them, Sukuna scoffed.

You were always like this, even a thousand years ago.

Your eyes hold nothing, your eyes don't reflect him or anything else.

A liar who looked at him with adoration and love, while promising him forever. Who convinced him you love him before leaving him behind.

“Never again…” Sukuna looked at you, his hands exploring your body, “…if your eyes can't look at me with love then tears will work just fine…”

Tilting your head up Sukuna smashed his lip against yours. Biting down on your lower lip and as you gasped in pain, he slipped his tongue inside your mouth.

As you struggled into the kiss Sukuna’s hands explored your body. You groaned into the kiss as every single part of your body was explored by Sukuna’s hand.

Your eyes filled with tears, and your mouth was filled by Sukuna’s large tongue making it hard for you to breathe as his hand gripped your breast. A second pair of arms spread your leg apart and ignoring your cry shoved 3 of his fingers inside you.

Your back arched as you screamed into the kiss. Sukuna pulled away from you before licking away your tears and latching onto your neck again.

Uncaring for your discomfort he stretched you open roughly, his eyes not filled with love, but a deep-seated anger and hatred.

“You promised me you won't ever leave me alone, (Y/N)…” Sukuna whispered in your ears as he leaned down and bit down on your breast, “…you lied.”

“I-I don’t remember!” You cried out your body trembling in pain,

Pulling his fingers out of your wet fold, Sukuna growled his voice laced with hatred,

“Then I will make you remember…”

Laying down and pulling you onto his stomach making you straddle him, you sobbed as he pulled your legs apart with two of his hands.

Your body froze and you let out a silent scream as you felt the mouth on his abdomen open up and he forced his tongue inside you.

“S-stop…t-this is weird… haaaa…stop!” You cried out your body shaking,

You can feel your body being forced open by his tongue, everything felt so weird. You can hear the lewd noise coming from your body as he twists his tongue inside you.

Sukuna laughed maniacally as he watched your sobbing face, your body shaking as he forced you to orgasm over and over again. Two of his arms gripped your waist tightly as he held you down. One of them pushed down on the bulge on your stomach as his tongue thrust inside you.

Grabbing your neck he pushed you down toward him and pulled you into a vicious kiss. You groaned as you felt both your mouth and cunt violated by his tongues, his free hand roaming across your body.

Sukuna felt a surge of sick pleasure as your orgasm wracked your body, your sobs only fueling his hunger.

He couldn't get enough of you, he wanted every part of your body, every expression on your face. Every cry, every whimper brought him satisfaction like no other.

Your body shuddered, his tongue still thrusting inside you, your mind on the verge of breaking as you heard him whisper,

"I won't ever let you leave me again…"

Pulling his tongue out of you with a pop, he uses his hand to hook your legs onto his shoulder and aims your abused cunt at his erection.

You felt the erection at the entrance of your fold, and from what you can see, you can tell it wasn't going to fit inside you. You were terrified and your body was rigid with fear.

But your soul tells you this is how it's supposed to be. You were supposed to be with him, and he’s a missing part of you.

Why?

You don't know, you couldn’t remember anything. All you know was you’re about to be fuck stupid and your soul is telling you, you guys belong together.

Before you could figure out exactly what's happening and why your mind is like this, Sukuna slammed his cock into your tight body.

Your back arched and you clawed at his arms as he pounded into you. Your mouth opened and you let out screams and moan as he fucked into you roughly.

Sukuna had never been a man to hold back—he would take what he wanted, when he wanted, regardless of how it affected you. Your screams didn’t bother him; instead, they seemed to fuel his desire to thrust harder and faster deep within you.

Your tight body held him, keeping him inside, barely containing his insatiable hunger.

“——!”

Your eyes widened in pain and tears streamed down your face. Your mouth opened in a silent gasp as he held you down, his four arms wrapping around you tightly as if to trap you.

“You are mine, (Y/N). Even after death, you are still mine!”

Sukuna laughed darkly, his mind filled with a mixture of pleasure and satisfaction.

He couldn't resist thrusting into you deeper, his cock twisting inside of you. Your body responded with shudders of pleasure, despite the pain.

He watched as your tears streamed down your face, never acknowledging your pain in the slightest.

His breathing quickened, and his heart raced as he felt you tighten around him.

You were completely his now, powerless under his control.

As his fat cock broke into your womb and your body clenched down on his cock tightly, your juice sprayed across where you guys are connected.

“This pain is only a fraction of what you will be feeling for leaving me, little one…”

You let out a wail as you felt Sukuna cum filled your womb. Your stomach bloating from the large amount of cum he was fucking into your body.

Sukuna grinned as he looked down at your belly filled with his cum, before thrusting into you again.

He was far from done…

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“Tch, are you full already, little one?” Sukuna scoffed as he looked down at your trembling body,

You couldn't answer, your mind dazed, and your body covered in bruises, cum, and a bite mark.

Sukuna chuckled before pulling his cock out of your swollen cunt, you let out a groan as the mixture of cum and fluid rushed out of you.

Sukuna splayed a hand over your bulging stomach and without warning pressed down. Your eyes widened and your body convulsed violently as he forced his cum out of you.

Your mind was broken and your body was abused. You felt like your internal organ was rearranged and it's not figuratively.

But it's okay, no matter how broken you are Sukuna can always heal you with his reverse curse technique until he’s satisfied that he has marked you completely body and soul.

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He will devour you.

Consume your flesh and your bone.

Until you are fused into his body and can no longer leave him behind.

Just like he did all those years ago…