#transformers blacker

[mistermalaprop]

transformuary [Day 2]

i knew people would (for the most part) draw starscream and jazz/prowl for second in command.... but i thought of these two goobers <3 blacker and leozack appreciation.....

enjoy, fellow victory fans!!!!! i love y'all!!!

[pic with the funny text]

[yes he means deathsaurus and star saber--]

@misqnon's transformuary prompts list below! i'll be marking off the days as i go.

[soundwavesopretty]

Blacker in Transformers: Victory | "Tanker Robbing Operation"

[saxandviolins77]

Blaster with locs (that are actually coaxial cables, look that up).

Yeah, he ended up looking like Aligned Continuity Solus Prime's bastard son, but shhhhh

[frostedmirror]

AU：The Vow for Victory

[inbarfink]

Congratulations! You are now a Magic-User!!

[beef-brisket]

✨️Demigod!Au✨️

@things-arent-what-they-seem66 @fanofstuff01

If you two are interested, this is based on an ask I got. I'll link it below encase anyone would like a refresher lol

(Btw, ima made Adam a little feral in the beginning. I hope that's all good 😝)

-

Lucifer had travelled far from his home. He was used to voyages that took him across vast lands and horizons. But, to travel the great ocean? That was new, even for the bravest hero of many legends.

Crewman: Captain! I see land!

The hero looked over the railing, and there he saw it, through the distant cloud and ocean mist, a land so green, it put his homeland to shame.

Lucifer: Very good, full speed ahead!

As the ship sailed towards its destination, Lucifer couldn't take his eyes off the shore. A few miles away, there's meant to be a cave home to oma deadly, monstrous creature. Something neither Lucifer nor other heroes and adventures had ever seen.

And rumour has it, anyone that entered its home, were never seen again.

It is a perfect challenge for someone like Lucifer, who is the son of one of the mightest gods. If he couldn't behead the beast, then no one could.

Before the ship was tied down, Lucifer jumped off and into the frigid water and made his way towards land.

Crewman: C-Captain?!

Lucifer waved him off and started searching for the beasts lair. It's said to never leave, so walking around like this should be safe. For the most part.

Climbing to the top of the bank, Lucifer was Abel to see for miles and miles. And as his eyes dragged along the coast line, he saw it.

A cave that looked like it was made by the earth splitting apart. Like a gash or a wound. The jagged rocks clashed with the lush green grass, the black sand.m and the blacker water.

Lucifer: That has to be it...

Once the ship was docked, Lucifer grabbed his weapons and told his crew to set up camp. He felt more comfortable doing this alone.

The walk was calm, and it helped Lucifer keep his head. Not that losing it was a risk, but he preferred to be in his right mind for when he saw the beast. Most would drive hero's and adventures mad just by laying their eyes on it.

And this one he was hunting was practically deadly. A gorgon. A creature cursed and shunned by the gods themselves. Abominations so rare, the gods demand their severed heads.

No one was entirely sure what a gorgon was or how they wronged the gods so badly that they were transformed into something so horrifying it was often beyond human comprehension. But Lucifer could handle it, being a demigod.

As the man started to descend the hill, he stopped as he noticed a long, large creature in the water, swimming into the caves mouth. It looked enormous, but it didn't make Lucifer nervous, I'm fact, it hardened his resolve.

Lucifer: There you are...

Once he reached the jagged mouth of the cave, he noticed large gouges in the rock. They looked like claw marks.

As he walked deeper, he reached where the water lapped at the sand.

And there he saw his second piece of evidence. Large drag marks in the sand.

Looking forward, he followed the cave as it went deeper and got darker. The place was eerily silent, surely something as large as what Lucifer saw would make a lot of noise.

The cave tunnel got narrower and narrower, eventually making Lucifer duck down. And what's where he saw the rock edges look worn down, and some were even broken. It must have been a tight squeeze for the beast, Lucifer was surprised it could even fit.

Finally, the cave opened up into an enormous chamber. It looked like an old, ruin temple dedicated to some unknown God. Water and light trickled down from the mossey cave roof, and even some birds flew towards the exit.

As Lucifer's eyes followed the sun rays, he spotted it.

A large snake tail hanging over the edge of a circular ruin covered in vines and flowers. It's dark, opalescent scales still dripped with ocean water.

Moving forward, Lucifer was too focused on the beast. He knocked a ceramic pot, sending it over the edge and smashing on the floor.

With inhuman speed, the beast shot up, and its golden eyes were directly on Lucifer.

The creature was shrouded in shadow, so he couldn't see its face, not that he wanted to.

Staying perfectly still, he didn't move until it lunched towards him, taking only five seconds to be close enough to attack.

It was then that Lucifer saw the fury in its horrid eyes. Its teeth unfurled from its mouth, and its claws were ready to attack Lucifer.

But the demigod was too quick. He was gone before the beast took a swing.

Lucifer managed to its track his and managed to hide in a small room of the temple ruin.

The creature screamed and hissed. It was a horrible noise that Lucifer was sure was making his ears bleed.

Beast: WhErE- ArE- yOu?!

Strange. It sounded vaguely human. Bit that was impossible.

Lucifer whispered: Must be a mimic... I'm going to need to keep my witts about be.

[hishumanbelle]

Alastor's rut.

18+

I was sitting on the couch in the hotel lounge when suddenly I felt my heart tighten, my hands sweat, my body tense and my brain go foggy. Oh no, it's that time of year. I put my hands on my chest as I felt my body transform and grow. I stood up from the couch. I could see everything red and haloed. Then, I smelled her. Her perfume. Vanilla and coconut, oh, how delicious. I had to look for her, she was surely close by. "Deborah?", I said with a sigh so as not to scare her. "Alastor?", she asked softly. And there she was, in her room, lying on the bed reading a book. "Darling", I said, "sorry for the unpleasant interruption", I started to growl, the pain and need getting stronger. Breathing was difficult. "Alastor, are you okay?", the concern in her voice. It hurt me to make her worry about me. "Yes… no. I... need you". She put the book away and walked over to me, cupping my face in her hands and looking at me apprehensively. "What's wrong with you, Al?", "it's… that time of the year", I said, growling and sighing. The pain was even worse, my throat kept making strange sounds and my eyes were narrowing until they were blacker and blacker. The static was also starting to get louder, filling the room. "What can I do for you? How can I help you feel better?", "I… want you. Intensely", I said in her ear, biting her earlobe. "Ah, Deborah… please, I need you. Now". With my hands I started to touch her ample breasts that were trying to explode from her white blouse. They were warm, soft. Her nipples instantly hardened at my touch. I put my face in the hollow of her neck and started to lick, kiss, bite. "I want more", I said drooling like a horny dog. I carried her to the bed and put her down. I pulled up her short black skirt and pulled her panties aside, I knelt down in front of her and started licking her pussy. Damn, she was delicious! Her smell… irresistible. My long tongue reached deep inside her and I felt her getting wet beneath me. My hands ran over her soft body until I went down, on her legs, between her thighs and started to finger her with passion. In and out, slowly, while I sucked the soul out of her clit. She was mine. And she was enjoying it, panting. She was calling my name over and over again. Her sounds were music to me, I didn't want her to stop. And I continued to pound her faster with my tongue and fingers, pushing into her g-spot until she came so hard again that she started to cry and squirt on my face. Fuck… I'm so infatuated with her that seeing her like this is the only way I want to see her. I stood up and lay on top of her, ripping the buttons of her shirt with my claws as I slid them down her body and scratched her gently. "I can't resist you", I grabbed her wrists and pulled her to me. I kissed her, sticking my tongue down her throat.

I was so excited, and then, placing my hands on her shoulders, I pushed her down, kneeling on the ground. I unzipped my pants and pulled out my big throbbing cock. Her expression was incredulous at the beast in front of her. "It's so… big", she said as she started to touch it. "Oh, Satan", I sighed. Her hands so graceful on my hard and throbbing cock, it drove me wild. I looked at her. I really wanted to devour her. I no longer knew if it was the heat that was doing this to me or if it was her. "Take it in your mouth", I ordered her, and I grabbed her hair in my hands to bring her closer to my cock. She obeyed, taking it in her mouth slowly. She knew what she was doing and how to drive me crazy. She started with the tip, making small circles near the head and then went down, sucking and licking it all over. Deep. "Fuck…", with my hand I pushed her head faster. Holy shit, I thought, I'm already about to cum, but I didn't warn her. I just watched her and fucked her mouth hard and fast until I came in her throat. "Fuck!!!", I exclaimed, cumming. I left it in her mouth for a while as I continuedI to spasm with pleasure. She, being the good girl she was, swallowed it all. "Good girl", I said, grinning, "but we're not done". I lifted her up and put her on the bed. I took my cock and shoved it in her violently while holding her by her hips and started to move inside her.

"Deborah", "Alastor," she said, panting, "say you're mine. Say you're only mine", "I'm only yours, Alastor", "yes, yes", I repeated, panting too. My thrusts became faster and stronger, but this time I grabbed her by her thick, long hair. The music of her moans was unstoppable but I wanted to hear her scream more, so I increased my power even more. "Fuck", I exclaimed, my thrusts were strong, very strong, violent, she screamed and screamed even louder, she repeated my name and I could have an orgasm just hearing her. "I'm coming Alastor, I'm coming", she said crying and panting. "Me too, I'm about to come too, but I want to look into your eyes. So come, come for me, I can't resist any longer", and she came. Her body vibrated, she trembled, her legs wouldn't stop and her spasms were violent but very delicate. I grabbed her and turned her over, underneath me and slammed it back in. I held her head, her hair with one hand, and her hip with the other. I couldn't hold it in anymore. I gave her the last thrusts before I came all the way inside her. "Damn, I'm marking you as my property, my love", I exploded. She was still looking at me, panting, I could feel her walls tightening and getting wet again. God… this girl is going to be the death of me. I had such a powerful orgasm that I continued to slam it into her even after I came, in post-coital shock. I looked at her, and the more I looked at her the more I fell in love. I didn't want her to stop looking at me. Her eyes had to be only for me. "I love you", I whispered to her, nuzzling her cheek with my nose and making intense static sounds. "I fucking love you", I repeated. Then I took her face in my hands and kissed her again, with all the love I felt. Our tongues danced and twisted, unable to stay away.

[maras-mischief]

Be careful what you wish for…

I warned the entire group that they did not want to meet Edie.

“Come on, Eddie.”

“We’re the Hellfire Club. We can handle your Elixir alter ego.”

“No, I’m serious, you guys. This isn’t some DnD game. She’s not some make-believe villain. The chick is unhinged.���

Eddie was arguing the best he could, but the more the guys kept nagging him the more he began to feel the itch. He’d only taken Elixir once, but the experience of becoming Edie was scary enough. It felt awesome to be her. She wasn’t afraid of anything or anyone. She could fight or fuck anyone she wanted. That’s the part that scared Eddie. He remembered those few days when he was her. He couldn’t control anything. He was a passenger riding bitch the entire time Edie had the controls. She put two girls in the hospital with concussions and several broken bones. She put their boyfriends there a day later from physical exhaustion. She never once stopped—not until the Elixir wore off and Eddie came back.

“Fine. You jackasses want to meet Edie, give me the Elixir. Be careful what you wish for, and I take no responsibility for what she does.”

“Deal. Here.”

Eddie looked at the small vial of pink liquid. He remembered that he got it for Chrissy the first time, but he always had a rule about taking the product first, so he knew it was safe. After Edie, he vowed never to sell it to anyone in Hawkins. He didn’t even know where the guys got this batch or how they knew about it. Eddie took one last deep breath and upended the vial into his throat. It coated his throat like honey and tasted gaggingly sweet.

“What did you guys dilute this stuff with?”

“We were supposed to dilute it?”

“That was a 4 mg vial. You’re saying I just took 4 mg of pure Elixir? It’s a 4 to 1 dilution you idiots! That should have made 16 doses of Elixir. For Edie to come out, I only needed 2 doses!”

“Are you saying you took 8 times the dose?”

“Yeah. Oh, God…you fuckers! I can feel her clawing through my brain. She’s coming back and I don’t know for how long. Brace yourself, Losers.”

The group backed up and watched as Eddie doubled over in pain. He was holding his stomach and panting so hard he was beginning to hyperventilate. He was shrinking inside his clothes, and his unruly hair was getting longer and blacker. He fell to the floor in a seizing fit as the Elixir reformed and relocated his muscles and fat. The whole group winced when they heard the bones around his eyes and nose break. Eddie's masculine features melted away until nothing but a beautifully mesmerizing girl lay on the floor.

Eddie moaned as all his broken bones re-knit to fit Edie’s smaller frame. Occipital bones, nose, pelvis, arms, legs…the process should be excruciating and lengthy, but the Elixir made them almost orgasmic and brief in the transformation process. The real orgasm spread like molten fire as Eddie’s cock and balls pulled inside his body to make his vagina and other sexual organs. Edie moaned and gasped in orgasmic delight as her breasts expanded on her chest. She massaged her tits and cried out as the changes gave her a mind-shattering orgasm. Her consciousness pushed Eddie to the back as she gained full control and awareness.

Edie opened her eyes and looked at the group of geeks surrounding her. She knew from Eddie that these losers were friends, but they were hardly the group Edie would run with.

“You losers have two choices—you can back the fuck up or take out your cocks and circle jerk over me.”

The group backed up as Edie sat up and unfurled her mane of ebony hair. The purr emanating from her chest made everyone in the group shiver. It was like hearing the low threat of some primordial predator echo in their soul. Edie stood up, and the whole group flinched back. They knew they had made a mistake in unleashing Edie. They could feel the raw power and malice pouring off her. There was also something undeniable and alluring about her. She could walk in the UpsideDown and you’d willingly follow her.

“Well, the first thing I like to do after the change is fuck. Judging by the looks of it, you’re all virgins. That’s fine. I don’t mind being a virgin breaker, but I’m going to need all of you to fulfill my needs.”

By the end of the night, every single boy and girl was in a naked, exhausted heap surrounding Edie. She lay in the moaning mass content, sated, and covered in cum. The myriad of nefarious ideas skipped through her brain as she lay among the carnal destruction she’d caused.

“Okay, Hellfires, get your loser asses up. It’s time to raise a little hell for real.”

2 Days Later

"Edie, when is Eddie coming back?"

"Why? Miss your DnD buddy? Are you not having fun with me?"

"It's been amazing. The sex has been unbelievable. But..."

"But?"

"Two of the club members are in the hospital, and one is in jail."

"That was some fun shit, wasn't it."

"Yeah."

"I'm going to tell you a little secret."

"What?"

"Eddie isn't coming back. The Elixir dose you gave him was so potent that he faded away yesterday. Edie is here to stay bitches. Speaking of bitches..."

"What?"

"Well, I can't be the only bad bitch in the Hellfire Club. A queen needs her besties."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I gave Erica and Robin an overdose of Elixir about 30 minutes ago. Any minute my slutty bitchy besties should be walking through that door."

"Oh, shit."

"Oh, yeah. Just wait. This town--upside down or rightside up will never be the same."

"What's up, Bitch?"

"Hey, Slut."

"Girls. Ready for some real fun?"

[mistermalaprop]

sigh…. Victory’s Omni Production dub my beloved… so stupid…

(Audio On)

[ltash]

SIMON RILEY "VENOM"

Warning: 18+, mentions of murder, blood, death, s*x.

War didn’t break him; it reforged him into something darker.

It was a cold night in Manchester. The full moon shone brightly in the sky above, casting an eerie glow over the quiet streets. The night was still, except for the occasional sounds of nocturnal creatures hidden in the shadows.

He walked alone, the heavy stomping of his combat boots echoing against the asphalt, a forewarning of his presence. Each step was taken with a sense of ownership.

He walked as if the ground itself belonged to him.

He walked like the days he marched alongside his comrades, the tarmac beneath them, donning his royal blue uniform with the Union Jack he proudly wore on his chest.

He was once a soldier with honor; now he's a killer driven by a void nothing can fill.

He walked with the same confidence he had when he first encountered Johnny—Sergeant Mctavish, who was all smiles and unaffected by the imposing figure of a lieutenant with a dark past.

He walked as he remembered the camaraderie, the shared missions, and the uncertainty that loomed over each deployment. Each step towards the waiting helicopter carried the weight of the unknown, the unspoken fear of whether they would return to walk the earth again.

But now, there were no comrades by his side. No mission to undertake. No Johnny with his infectious, carefree spirit. No briefings, no Task Force, no Call of Duty.

Only a mercenary remained, a ghost of the man he once was.

The soldier in him died on the battlefield; what returned was a monster with no allegiance.

Simon died the day Johnny escaped the confines of this world.

His death wreaked havoc within him, a void nothing can fill.

The rot within him began to consume his flesh and bones, gnawing at his very shadow. He grew darker, his soul blacker than the jacket he wears or the camouflage cream around his eyes he smears.

He became a reaper, a bringer of death, relishing in the act of ripping souls from their bodies as they begged for mercy. The last look in their eyes, the death rattle as they choked on their own blood—it thrilled him.

He transformed into a sadistic pervert, finding pleasure in dead flowers, in the act of bringing death before life could fully bloom. Twisting and turning their bodies to his liking, sinking his teeth into their flesh, drawing blood.

He found ecstasy not in love, but in the twisted agony of his victims. Behind his cold eyes lurked a monster that reveled in the suffering of others.

He plucked their petals one by one, reveling in their yelps and writhing beneath him as they plead succumbing to him, surrendering to him as they were destroyed by him when he injected his venom into them.

His desires grew twisted, and the thought alone made his cock twitch with anticipation.

He found ecstasy in plucking the feathers of wandering birdies, invading their sanctuaries, and satiating the lust that coursed through his veins.

Each night, he slept peacefully, knowing he had nothing left to lose except his own worthless life. He was a ruthless killer, a mercenary driven not just by money but by the primal hunger that resided within him.

He fought for freedom once; now he kills to silence the nightmares.

The contact of his knife with soft throats and pulsing jugulars brought him intense pleasure. The sight of death became his release, his climax.

A puzzle wrapped in a shroud of enigma. A man transformed by the darkness that consumed him, living a life of relentless violence and unfulfilled desires.

Every scar tells a story, and his are etched with the blood of those who crossed his path.

He is called,

Ghost!

••••••••••••••

[suppose-i-was-worm]

Dragon Landing pt 2

Kon watched in fear as the dragon touched down in the wide plaza, Lex smiling smugly as the great beast landed.

“Great Dragon, welcome to Metropolis.”

The dragon nodded slowly, swinging it’s head around to see the gathered crowd.

“If you are looking for your assistant, I regret to inform you that he has committed a most horrible sin against you, sir.”

The dragon tilted its head, and the crowd parted. Kon tried to dart forward to catch Danny as he was thrown to the ground, securely tied in ropes, but his guards grabbed his arms and held him tight.

“What has he done?”

The dragon’s first words rumbled across the plaza, and Kon shivered at the underlying anger to it’s voice.

Lex made a grand gesture.

“He dared to seduce your intended spouse, my nephew Kon-el. Do not worry, though, we caught them before anything untoward could happen.”

A strange chuffing noise came from the dragon, and it lowered it’s head to look at Danny, still lying on the ground.

“Do you know what you have done, son of Clockwork?”

Much to Kon’s horror, Danny grinned brightly.

“I understand what I’ve been accused of, sure.”

“You have betrayed me in this, Daniel Clockwork.”

“IT WASN’T HIS FAULT,” Kon yelled, struggling against the guards. “Please- punish me, if you must- Danny didn’t start anything!”

The dragon side eyed Kon, and then turned it’s attention back to Danny.

“Rise, Daniel, and accept your punishment.”

“Oh? I thought you liked the sight of me tied up.”

To the shock of the entire plaza, Danny rose to his feet, slipping through the ropes like they were air. He stood in front of the dragon’s great head, smiling serenely.

The dragon brought it’s nose down close to Danny, and a wisp of flame spouted from it’s nostrils.

Kon screamed as the flame wrapped around the man he’d fallen in love with- he could never care for the dragon after this, even if he had to marry the great beast.

And then the flames subsided, and there Danny was, still standing. He was different, though- the purple bruise on his cheek from Lex’s guards was gone, and he wasn’t hunched over his right side, favoring a broken rib.

When he’d arrived in Metropolis Keep, and every day since, his garb had been nice but unremarkable. Now, having been consumed by flames, his clothing was of the finest silks, with delicate embroidery and gems creating the night sky on his dark robes.

Most shocking at all was the pointed ears of a faerie and his hair- an ethereal shock of white were before it had been blacker than shadow.

“It has been too long, my loyal servant” the dragon rumbled.

“A month without you is akin to a year without stars, my lord.”

Kon took advantage of the guards shock to rush forward, pushing past his uncle to reach Danny. Danny, who turned to him with a brilliant grin.

“Prince Kon-el! Meet my lord, the dragon.”

Remembering some decorum in the face of his worry, Kon bowed to the dragon, who regarded him with one great yellow eye.

“A pleasure to meet you, Lord Dragon.”

The dragon chuffed again, turning back to Danny.

“He is pretty, I’ll give you that. Will you stand with us, Prince Kon-el?”

Kon looked to Danny, who was nodding furiously at him.

“If that is your wish?”

“I care more for your wishes, but I will accept that answer.”

The dragon’s tail looped around them both, and Kon watched as Danny gave it a pat.

“King Luthor.” There was danger in the dragon’s voice. “You made a deal with me- a spouse in exchange for power.”

“Yes, Lord Dragon, if you-“

“I did not give you permission to speak.”

A sick sort of glee filled Kon as Lex shut up with a snap.

“I would have complied with your request, had I not spent the last month learning of your misdeeds. I might have even been lenient, more than just allowing you your life, but it seems you missed a very important fact about dragons.”

The tail surrounding Kon and Danny tightened possessively.

“Dragons are known to have multiple spouses- hoarding them more fiercely than gold and treating them better than the finest of gems. Until today I was possessed of only a single spouse, and you- usurper, kidnapper, false king- you allowed him to come to harm.”

Kon looked sharply over at Danny, but the faerie was smiling vindictively, stroking the dragon’s scales with delicate fingers that were dripping with silver and diamond jewelry.

“Did you know,” the dragon continued, “that the man whose throne you took- who was left for dead by your traitorous followers- recovered well? King Kent is returning to Metropolis to take back his throne, along with his wife and son.”

Something roiled in Kon’s stomach- the knowledge that his father had another son with a legal wife- as opposed to himself, a child born out of wedlock to Lex’s sister through coercion- made him feel ill.

“He has agreed that Kon-el may come with me until Metropolis is safe. After that, it is up to the prince as to where he will go.”

The dragon reached out one massive claw, touching Lex on the chest.

“I curse you, Luthor- I curse you for laying a hand on my beloved, for usurping a throne that is not rightfully yours. I curse you for casting out a friend of my father and leaving him for dead. I curse you for stealing a child from his father and depriving him of that relationship, and I curse you for attempting to use that child as a bargaining chip for power. Lex Luthor, you will never hold a position of power again. Only the dogs will believe the words you speak from here on out. So mote it be.”

Kon watched as Lex started to protest, but all that came out was the howling of a street dog.

The surrounding crowd began to snicker, and then to laugh.

They stopped as the dragon continued speaking, this time to the guards who had thrown Danny to the ground.

“Personally, I do not think those who laid hands on my husband should be allowed to live, and yet I am well aware what he thinks of wanton bloodshed. His people, however, may not be so kind. I would suggest stocking up on cold iron.”

Danny tugged at Kon’s hand, and he let himself be pulled up and onto the dragon’s tail, and then up further still to rest on the beasts broad back. Part of him thought that he ought to have struggled to climb up, but the rest of him was dealing with relief from the stress of the past day.

The man he loved was safe and sound, his father was well and returning, and Lex could no longer bring the kingdom to evil.

The dragon spread his wings, and with two hefty flaps, they were off the ground and in the air.

Kon scrabbled to grab a hold of something with the hand not held securely in Danny’s but there was no purchase on the smooth scales underneath him.

“Peace, Kon-el,” the dragon rumbled beneath them. “I will not let you fall.”

A tugging on his hand again prompted Kon to turn to Danny, who was smiling at him gently.

“Do you want to continue what we started?”

There was a twinkle in his eye, and Kon flushed hot, remembering their almost-kiss while they practiced dancing.

“H-here?”

Danny shrugged playfully.

“Why not? My lord doesn’t mind.”

“I- no, I don’t think I am comfortable with that.”

With a nod, Danny brought Kon’s hand up to his lips, brushing across the back feather light.

“Your comfort is my utmost priority, my prince.”

The dragon rumbled underneath them, and Kon almost thought it was agreement.

[iceeericeee]

Title: The Sun is a Deadly Laser (and It Hates Crowley)

Summary: It’s summertime in SoHo, and Crowley is still wearing his usual all black outfit. This definitely won’t bite him in the ass later today.

Notes: hellooooo good omens fandom. It’s been a hot second since I’ve been here. How are we doing today? Good? Good. Here’s some Crowley whump that no one asked for.

Human!Omens au

Whumperless Whump event, day 6: Summer is a curse

—————

It was a beautiful day in Soho. The sky was clear, children ran around playing, couples walked in silence.

One couple stuck out. Two men strolled on a path, side by side, at the St. James park.

The first one was Aziraphale. He was wearing his usual outfit, but chose to ditch the jacket he normally wore, and rolled up the sleeves of the sky blue button-up. Of course, he kept his vest on. Couldn’t leave home without it.

Crowley, however…

Crowley was only slightly regretting wearing his usual black attire. Although he would argue that his choice of clothes weren’t completely black. For instance, his thin neck tie was silver, not black. And his jacket wasn’t totally black. He’d definitely seen blacker. His was just… very very dark grey.

Although even Crowley couldn’t deny the darkness of his sunglasses. It had been purposeful, so he could hide his rare eye condition when he went out in public. Currently, not only were they protecting his eyes from being stared at by others, they were finally being used for what they had been made for: blocking the sun from Crowley’s eyes.

However, this task was a struggle, the sweat beading on Crowley’s nose made a slick surface. The sunglasses would periodically slide down, and Crowley would push them back up. But his face wasn’t the only thing slowly becoming sticky with sweat.

It was as though Crowley’s clothes had become glued to his body. It was very apparent how uncomfortable he was becoming.

“And you’re positive you’re alright? You seem a bit pale, dear…” Aziraphale fretted over Crowley.

“‘M fine, Angel. Don’t worry about me.” Crowley gently grabbed Aziraphale’s hand in his own slightly shaky ones.

Aziraphale pursed his lips. “Alright, if you say so.”

They continued to walk. Crowley could feel his feet begin to drag behind him. His breaths were slowing down and getter deeper.

It was when Crowley stumbled on a crack in the sidewalk did they both notice something was very wrong with him.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale quickly reached out to catch the other man. Thankfully, he was successful, keeping Crowley from taking an unwanted tumble onto the concrete.

Crowley tried to make a witty remark — something along the lines of ‘falling for Aziraphale’ — but found his tongue was dry and slightly swollen. All he could manage was a small groan.

“Come along, dear. Let’s… Les find some shade, and we’ll have a little sit-down, alright?”

Crowley nodded. “M’kay, Angel.”

Aziraphale gently lead Crowley to a nearby tree. None to gracefully, he practically fell down on his arse next to the trunk. He watched as Aziraphale grabbed the handkerchief from his vest pocket and leaned forward to dab at the sweat beading on Crowley’s brow.

“I saw a water fountain just a bit ahead of us. I’m going to go and wet this, just sit right here. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Aziraphale sprung up before Crowley could get a word in. So he sat there, and waited.

It was indeed a bit cooler underneath the shade of the tree. A lazy breeze blew by, brushing slightly at his hair. It was relieving. He could feel his internal temperature oh so slowly coming back down.

The swish of grass interrupted his thoughts. He looked up and saw Aziraphale walking up to him, soaked handkerchief in hand.

“Alright, I’m back. Here-” leaning down, he carefully dabbed the cool fabric onto Crowley’s forehead. Crowley subconsciously leaned in, letting his skin drink in the cold emanating from the handkerchief.

This went on for at least 30 minutes, Aziraphale rushing back and forth between Crowley and the water fountain, until Crowley felt well enough to walk back to the Bentley.

[homestuck-fanauthor-coalition]

@arealpeople

Dave locked the door to the lounge with a click. "Now, now. Whatever would you need to do that for?" His mark purred from behind him. "I hope you don't have anything untoward in mind, bringing me upstairs all alone, Mr. Davids." He turned around with a smirk, letting his eyes trail across her form, which was perched coyly on the scrolled arm of the divan. The late evening sun cast a honey glow around her through the massive window on the west wall. She was a beautiful woman, no doubt about that. Her blood red lipstick shone like a beacon against her midnight black skin, which was broken here and there by small plates of even blacker chitin, and her skin-tight dress left very little to the imagination, even less so as she crossed her legs, allowing the slit of the dress to part enticingly. Chitin plates ran up her shins and calves, giving the impression of tall black boots— her stockings must have been custom made to fit around them— and above those... Garter belts. Lord have mercy. It was almost enough to make a man give up on his mission.

Chapters: 1/1

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Category: F/M, Other

Fandom: Homestuck

Relationships: Calliope/Dave Strider, Black Queen/Dave Strider, Dave Strider & Dirk Strider, Caliborn & Calliope (Homestuck)

Characters: Dave Strider, Black Queen (Homestuck), Dirk Strider, Calliope (Homestuck), Caliborn (Homestuck)

Additional Tags: Mutant Powers, Assassination Attempt(s), Time Loop, Seduction, Gang Violence, Gun Violence, Knifeplay (Literally), Aged-Up Character(s), Temporary Character Death, Background Possession, Aged-Down Character(s), Tail Bondage, Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Blood and Gore, Fighting Kink, Head Injury, Gunshot Wounds, Cutting (Tagging for Imagery), Broken Bones, Suicide, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Meet-Cute, Vaginal Fingering, Dry Humping, Alternate Universe - Mutants, Enemies to Lovers, Awkward Boners, Inspired by Music

An entrant in the Homestuck Fan Author Coalition's January 2025 Competition: Bard. 

Awards:

[gerbiloftriumph]

Lost and Found (ao3):

Grandpa’s story of the goblin caves started out familiarly enough, but as he spoke, the story started to twist and change. New friends, new conversations, and new ways to use old items transformed the tale, and the young king discovered new ways to be brave in the dark tunnels beneath Daventry.

(7/?)

~*~

The sobs echoed off the stalactites, grew in volume, surrounded him as he crept forward, his mouth dry and his heart pounding. 

What could possibly be down here? And crying? This place had been abandoned for years and years, dusty and hollow with silence. There shouldn’t have been anything here. And yet. And yet. The whimpers were unmistakable, yearning and lost and all the more terrifying. They shouldn’t be here. No one should be here.

There were stories of crying creatures in the dark, tempting travelers to come to them, then striking. Stories of monsters setting traps, calling and killing. Faceless ghosts wailing in the dark seeking vengeance for past crimes. Demons with long fingers and longer memories reaching out with hate in their eyes and a false sob in their throats.  

Graham inched forward. Fear crawled up his spine with each fresh wail, but he had to keep going. 

(Gwendolyn watched the little mirror king, clinging to her stuffed rabbit. “Weren’t you afraid?” 

“Terrified! But I’d rather face my fear than deal with my wild imagination. I’m afraid my mind could conjure a hundred deaths, a million monsters, but until I knew what I truly faced, they were simply nightmares, as fragile as spun sugar, as empty as the wind.”) 

The cave seemed to resent the voice, seemed irritated that something was disturbing its decades of sleep. The stones seemed sharper, the passage narrower, the shadows blacker. He couldn’t help but think of the puppets again, like the constant sound would rouse them, send them tottering down the tunnels looking for the source of the noise.  

He shuffled forward, scarcely breathing, until he finally reached a bend in the tunnel, finally could find what it was that was haunting these rooms.  

He was surprised to find that this cavern was fairly well lit, with the typical glowing mushrooms of all types and colors reaching up, revealing how high the ceiling was. Water that eventually fed the frog pond, and possibly his own damp cell further down the line, sparkled in the glow, bubbling over the rocks. And, huddled on the floor, wailing... 

Not a demon. Not a monster. Not a human. 

A goblin.  

It was curled in a ball, sobbing. Even from a distance, Graham could tell it was horribly bruised and banged and cut—he suspected it had fallen from more normal prison paths above them (maybe they were beneath the cavern he’d noticed near Acorn’s Jack in the Beanstalk tower?), fallen down the sloping walls, bounced off the mushrooms (several were freshly broken, proving his suspicion), and rolled to a stop down here. In this lost, dark place. 

It howled pitifully, clinging to its dented helmet. Graham wondered if it could stand, or if it had hurt itself too much. No one above seemed to have noticed its cries, or if its cries did carry up to the prisons above them, no one cared enough to bother trying to rescue their fallen friend. Goblin society was maybe a little too individualistic. Or maybe this had happened before and they knew it was too dangerous to try. Didn’t matter, though: all that mattered was that Graham and this goblin were alone down here, far, far away from any help.  

What to do. 

He could hardly leave it there, in pain and frightened, but he was hardly supposed to be down here himself. Would it be mad? It did have its spear—the shaft was splintered near the top, and the sharp bit was on the ground, but the goblin could still probably do something with the weapon if it didn’t care for Graham’s existence. And what was that old thing about wounded animals, they could be more dangerous than healthy ones? 

Still. 

He couldn’t leave it there in the dark, alone. He couldn’t.  

He inched forward again. The goblin took no notice of him at all, whimpering. It curled up tighter, its sobs muffled against its own armor for a moment.  

Other than the spear, the goblin had dropped other things as it fell. A coin, scraps of paper with fairy tales sketched on them, a key. 

A key.  

Graham’s heart stuttered. What kind of key? What was it for? This was a goblin guard from the prisons, he was certain. What kind of key was it carrying? Was it for the prisoners’ doors? Or, and he hardly dared breathe as he hoped this, was it the key to the door leading out into the goblin city, out into Daventry, the key to the door that would lead him home? 

He had to get it. He needed it. Stars above, what if, what if, what if?  

But the goblin would hate him getting his hands on that. It hadn’t noticed him yet, but the key was right next to it. The goblin could hardly fail to notice him if he got close enough to grab it, and the spear, even broken, was still a threat.  

Graham approached, and his boots rang against the floor. The goblin didn’t seem to react much. His foot nudged the key, but again, not much reaction.

“Hey,” he said.

The goblin lashed out, wailing—Graham stumbled back, out of the reach of its wildly swinging claws, but he tripped over an upraised rock behind him, sat down hard, and crawled back. In his pocket, the harp clanged as it dragged over the rock, and the goblin froze for half an instant before going back to scratching the air.

Graham realized the helmet was dented in such a way that the goblin probably couldn’t see him well. It would probably be easy to grab that key, to scramble away, with the goblin mostly unaware. It would be easy. Just keep walking.

But.

That wouldn’t be right.  

Wente didn’t believe I was going to help them. Did he think I lost my compassion when I became king?

He stayed sitting, out of the goblin’s reach. His friends needed him, but what kind of a king—no, what kind of a person—would he be if he just left this goblin here in the dark?

He needed to soothe it before it would listen, though; it kept swinging wildly in directions it thought he might be in. Talking probably wasn’t going to help, not if the goblin was tense and frightened. Hearing a human wouldn’t help. But.

Music might help. It always helped Graham, when he was feeling scared and alone. Humming or singing, or seeking out lute players or minstrels.

Graham pulled out the dented, out of tune, missing a string, harp. He ran his fingers across the strings, and even though the resulting noise was anything but sweet, the goblin paused again. It tilted its head, apparently trying to see him through the crushed eyeholes on the helmet. Graham strummed the instrument, unconsciously tuning a couple of the strings to try and help it sound nicer. The goblin inched toward him, dragging itself painfully along the stone floor. Graham tried not to flinch, tried to sit straight and confident, and he ran through a short, extremely simple lullaby, the sort of thing an aspiring student first learned, an easy melody Wente probably liked to hum while making his hot buns in the morning. It didn’t sound too awful on the harp, really, and the goblin seemed to appreciate it. It was still sniffling, with those gasping breaths of a person who’d just stopped a huge crying streak.

He strummed a few tuneless notes for a while, thinking. Thinking, thinking. Stories. The goblins loved stories. Maybe he should tell one.

He toyed with the strings, then, “Once upon a time,” he said, watching for a reaction. He instantly got one: the goblin sat up straight and eager, like a puppy. All right, then. He wondered if it was the cadence of the phrase, or if it could understand the plot. Only one way to find out.

“Once upon a time, there was a brave little goblin,” Graham said. “It lived in a huge goblin castle with all its friends. The goblins in this castle each had a role to play, and they did them all very well. They could act out any story, and they had been acting them out perfectly for years. Except, the brave little goblin was new to the castle, and he loved to tell stories of his own. But as he told his stories, he realized no one wanted to hear them. The brave little goblin was supposed to be following the stories already told, was supposed to be acting them out properly with the rest of the goblins. They talked over the brave little goblin, they ignored his new ideas, and they buried in him old stories he should memorize instead. The brave little goblin felt lonely. No one listened to him at all.”

In front of him, the goblin started sniffling again. Not in pain or fear, but apparently deeply touched by the story. I mean, it’s not that good, Graham thought, watching it. But I do appreciate an attentive audience, I guess.

(Gwendolyn glanced at her grandfather. “But you’re the king, shouldn’t everyone listen to you?”

“Ah, you’ve figured out my tale.”

“I mean. It’s not like it’s hard.”

“Gwendolyn, a fancy hat does not mean you are always right. And to be a good king, you have to be a good person. You have to earn the trust of those around you. Like I was trying to earn this goblin’s trust now, with a story.”)

“The brave little goblin decided he needed to go on a quest. He was going to find people willing to listen to his stories, even if they were very far away,” Graham continued. “But as he walked through the tunnels beyond the goblin castle, he lost his footing, and he fell.”

The goblin in front of him gasped, putting its hands over where its mouth probably was.

“He fell down a dark pit,” Graham said, eying the room in front of them. “He bounced off the mushrooms that grew in the dark, and he rolled beside an underground river, and he scraped along the hard stones, and he came to a crumpled stop in the darkness. He was more alone than he’d ever been before, and no one could hear his stories here. No one would ever see the little brave goblin again. He had fallen out of the story. He was lost.”

The goblin had decided that putting its hands over its helmet wasn’t enough. It grabbed the dented, damaged helmet, yanked it off—revealing huge floppy ears, giant eyes gleaming with tears, and a drippy button nose. It pressed its hands hard over its fanged mouth, leaning into Graham’s story with pale golden eyes better suited to seeing in the dark than Graham’s human eyes ever could.

“But the goblin was very brave,” Graham said. “He looked around the darkness, and he knew he could find a way out. Even if he was lost, the goblin knew he could fix this. The goblin told himself stories old and new about...about strong blacksmiths, about happy bakers, about wise alchemists, about confident knights, and the goblin felt stronger thinking about them. He even felt stronger thinking about the goblins he’d left in the castle. Everyone had a part to play, he knew, even him, even if he still had to figure out what his part was, exactly. Maybe…maybe he just had to show everyone he was more than what they thought. But. But he knew he was a part of the overall story, and he couldn’t just fall out of it. And he stood up, as brave and strong as ever with the stories behind him, supporting him, and he walked into the darkness, seeking a way back to his friends.”

The goblin clapped eagerly. It chittered something Graham couldn’t even begin to understand, and it pointed at the caves around them.

“Yeah, like the story,” Graham said, hoping he was agreeing with it instead of condemning himself to something he wouldn’t like. The goblin sat back, grinning toothily at Graham, then admired the room again, pleased that its actions had created a story.

Graham scooted a little closer to the goblin, cautiously. It didn’t seem to mind, so Graham stretched, hugely exaggerated, yawning dramatically, carefully putting his boot on the key and dragging it safely under his cloak. “Ahhhhhh. Just stretching,” he muttered. He stuffed the key into a pocket without the goblin seeming to notice, the rough metal cold against his fingers and full of promise.

[agentredfort]

It barely feels like being human anymore. Now, say something hopeful.   After the lake, Ruby can’t sleep. Blacker keeps watch—there's nobody else to do it.

Good lord, has it really been three entire years since I last wrote for this fandom? And all it took was an in-depth reread of the full series to pull me back into doing it.

Rereading got me thinking a LOT about Ruby's relationship with the adults around her, and the different ways she's loved by the people she knows.... and then That One Scene from BaYD came in to smash me in the side of a head like a brick, and this came tumbling out.

Do I have way too many thoughts about Agent 'We Don't Even Know His Goddamned First Name' Blacker and the way he interacts with Ruby? Maybe. This is a little bit about that. But it's also about Ruby being thirteen and filled with absurd amounts of grief. Have fun.

[mimeo-tan]

Limeade getting attacked by tentacles ‼‼‼

yippie!

Surrounded by a wall of vaguely phallic looking tentacles out of nowhere, Limeade closes the visor on her riding helmet and whispers her secret phrase "moe moe kill-N-death heart splash!", transforming into her magical girl form. Pink lace adorns a pitch blacker leather jacket and skintight latex body suit with a solid black mask obsecuring her face under a long trail of neon pink hair. She brandishes her trusty crowbar, now dolled up a pretty little bow, and prepares to fight for her life!

[COINFLIPPED: YES!]

Magia Limeade slashes through the tangle of tentacles, leaving behind a trail of pepto-bismol coloured splashes and sparkles. Finding the monsters core, she mounts he motorcycle and charges through the beast, slashing it in twain. She releases her transformation and the monster collapses into a dozen pieces, a tentacle landing in her path. Limeade grinds the squishy sausage-like appendage against the pavement with a scornful gaze and spits on it for good measure, before carrying on her way.