#anger management monsterfucker
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More Jazz Forms (click for clarity)
TW: disturbing content, body horror
1) Head only Jazz
+ She is a head that walks on a bunch of mysterious tentacles. She’s inspired by a CN novel called “Let the Villain Go” in a chapter where a demon pops up and is described as a head that walks on tentacles (I may be delulu and remembered it wrong).
+ Around 900 feet tall. Most of the height is her tentacles, but her head is still around 100 feet tall.
+ Jason is a little obsessed with how huge she is. When he is away, she stays standing over his apartment like a creepy water storage tank. Nobody can see her except liminals and ghosts, so she remains undetected by Jason’s side.
+ She is generally peaceful and doesn’t move much. She is a relatively quiet being with no explicit ability to defend herself or attack. I imagine her to be very dreamy, despite her piercing stare.
2) Celestial Object Jazz
+ She is a quasi-stellar radio source, AKA a quasar :)
+ Impossibly large and infinite. She is so big that her gravitational pull is pulling apart a piece of the universe. Jason thinks that she’s beautiful, and he looks for her every night. He uses special technology to see her on Earth and when he can, he sneaks onto the Watchtower to look at her.
+ The mass of the black hole that she is made of is around 150 billion solar masses. She is located extremely far from the Milky Way within the largest galaxy of the universe. Since she is technically both the black hole and the gas that surrounds it, she won’t be fading for awhile.
+ Her origin is unknown in this idea (but is related to her siblings, who have all become celestial objects themselves). Her existence is extremely old and that is partially Clockwork’s fault.
3) Corrupted Jazz
+ She has become corrupted from years of ectoplasm, death, and generally instability. The tentacles that come from her stomach is actually just pieces of her soul that are trying to reach for others. She calls for help, but no one but Jason has been reaching out.
+ She cannot be around people for too long, or she causes insanity, violent mood swings, headaches, auditory and visual hallucinations, paranoia, nosebleeds, and general weakness, even if they cannot see her. Jason is somewhat resistant to her, but she heavily restrains herself so the effects of her existence won’t hurt him.
+ She tries to stay away from Jason, but bc she’s so clingy, she watches him from a distance. Her presence brings shadows and darkness, so he’s also been getting a reputation of scaring criminals to pissing themselves whenever he comes by.
+ Her body is covered in shadows, but she glows a little from the ectoplasm, so her silhouette can be vaguely seen.
4) Monochrome Jazz
+ Inspired by Lady Dimitrescu and Hachishakusama
+ She dresses in all black and her skin is pale as well. A hat and face mask cover all available skin on her face. Any skin below the neck is also covered.
+ She is around 9 feet tall. She stalks Jason whenever she can and always follows him around. She is extremely hostile and dangerous and does not hesitate to attack when she feels even the slightest bit threatened. She is also completely mute.
+ She is both a ghost and an urban legend, hence why she looks like that. Underneath her mask is a mouth of razor sharp teeth like a moray eel.
5) Wolf Jazz
+ Inspired by Jason’s Red Hood motif that is similar to Little Red Riding Hood. That’s also why I associate Jazz with so many canine themes :)
+ Black fur, several pairs of eyes, and two sets of deformed ears. I am debating whether or not she also has 3 pairs of legs.
+ She follows Jason around like a dog, but does not behave like a pet. As such, he can’t order her around unless she wants to listen to him. Thankfully, she likes cooperating with him and the two of them terrorize the criminals of Crime Alley.
+ She is around 5 feet tall when standing on all fours, but when she stands up on her hind legs, she is around 9 feet tall. She is very fluffy.
#dc x dp#dp x dc#jazz fenton#danny phantom x dc#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc#dcxdp#jason todd#anger management#jason x jazz#anger management ship#hardcover ship#I researched so much so jazz could be a quasar#celestial object au#tall jazz#body horrow cw#tw blo0d#cw blood#tw body horror#man why does jazz follow jason around so much#anger management monsterfucker
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oh, the eldritch horror! — scar
summary. venturing out in the woods to clear your head was supposed to be relaxing, so why is this twisted abominable nightmare of a beast growling in your face?
notes. i rewatched shrek because i was bored and i snatched the donkey & dragon scene right out of it. but like, instead of a dragon, it’s literally baphomet. does this count as monsterfucking bc idkkk… anyway yeah it’s like scar but his goat form. i thought it would be funny. this is just painfully self indulgent.
idk wtf is going on in wuwa but my brain shut down when this loser came on screen and started ranting about shepherds and sheep. whatever you say beautiful.
warnings. scar, very minimal crack (it’s inspired by shrek. idk what to say bro…)
This has to be the worst day of your life.
The creature snaps its drooling jaw in your face.
It looks like a goat from Hell. Like a black sheep that’s wandered from its herd. You can’t see much of its face, but the ginormous pair of curled horns are sharp at the edges. The cartilage could easily slit your throat in half if you were to make one wrong move and lean in too close.
Four yellow beady eyes glare at you, way too close to your face. You can see your warped reflection along rectangular pupils. Giant ears peeled back towards its skull, pierced with two matching golden earrings in the shape of crosses that are the size of your hands.
You laugh nervously in its face.
Oh, god, it’s going to eat you alive. You know it.
You try to take a step back, but you’re met with the roots of a tree at your feet and the trunk digging harshly into your back.
Bad idea. Oh, this was all a bad idea. The bad luck streak should’ve been an indicator right from this morning: you slept through your alarm and were subsequently late for work, you fell over twice at work, you lost your house keys, and then you decided to clear your head and go for a walk.
You ended up venturing off deeper into the trees to search for herbs to help back at the clinic in Jinzhou. You don’t even know which direction the city is anymore.
And now, there’s a creature—and it can’t be a Tacet Discord—growling and snapping its teeth in your face. It’s huge. It’s way too big to be absorbed, let alone actually taken down with brute force. Whacking it with a stick certainly didn’t help.
All that did was manage to slash a decent gash into one of its hind legs and anger it even further.
It snarls at you.
A bead of sweat rolls down your temple.
Uh oh.
“Oh, what large teeth you have!” Your voice comes out shaky, and you’re trembling as you stare up at it.
A low guttural noise escapes from the depths of its throat, and its jaw unhinges.
Your eyes pinch shut. “I-I mean, white, sparkling, teeth!” You let out a nervous huff of laughter, your words almost incoherent. “I know you probably hear this all the time from your food, but, you must take really good care of those pearly whites, ‘cause that is one dazzling smile you’ve got there!”
The creature’s slitted eyes narrow in suspicion. Its jaw snaps closed as it pulls only a few inches away from your burning skin.
You quickly wipe your sweaty palms on your hands.
You clear your throat. “I’m so grateful that your beautiful smile will be the last thing I ever see. Y’know… when you eat me… ‘cause I’m sure you must be hungry!” You prattle on and on, and your knees are weak and wobbly. “Not that you have to eat me. I’d prefer if you didn’t, but– yeah! So grateful!”
You were praying to whatever Gods could hear you that your mindless babbling saved your life. Or some superhero came through and took this thing down in one swing.
The giant creature seems to preen at your words. Its sharp teeth retreat behind a now closed mouth. Its horn suddenly don’t appear as sharp as they were before, and the curl of them against the creature’s skull look softer and more defined. They were different to the ghastly sharp edges you saw before.
Your legs can’t keep still. Your hands interlock in front of you to try and quell the shaking. Your bones feel like they’re vibrating beneath your skin.
You try to control your breathing. “Beautiful hair–fur, by the way.” You raise a finger to point at the greyish locks behind its horns. For such a mangy beast, its hair looked a bit silky. Maybe unwashed, and it was full of twigs, but slightly soft. “And I smell a hint of berry…” Lie. “…Did you… wash it?”
Stupid question.
You try to control your breathing.
Maybe the beast isn’t a beast. Maybe it’s a nice creature cursed with being ugly.
The creature is still eyeing you.
Can it understand you? Or is it trying to survey whether you’re a threat or not? You can’t tell. You heard somewhere that dogs don't like when people look them in the eyes. You didn’t even know if that was true.
The correlation is stupid, regardless. This beast is far from even remotely resembling the canis genus.
Its head is huge, even when its jaw is shut. Its nostrils are the size of your hand, and it breathes puffs of hot air in your face. You reel back further into the tree. Your stomach drops impossibly lower than it already has. Your skin is soaked in sweat.
The creature bumps its nose against your sternum and inhales sharply.
You glance to the left.
Is it… smelling you? Is it trying to figure out if you’re edible? Oh, Gods, then you’re embarrassing stalling would have been for nothing. What a day. As if it couldn’t get any worse than it already had been.
You can't outrun it. It’s huge. By the time you’ve sprinted ten feet away it can simply lean over and pluck you by the back of your collar and pop you into its mouth.
Your insides churn at the thought. You were afraid you’d hunch over and vomit out of fear on the creature’s face.
Bad plan? Maybe then it wouldn’t eat you, at least. Or maybe it would. You were afraid to take the chances, and swallow the bile rising up your throat.
Its oddly bent arms smash into the dirt on either side of you. A low garble echoes in its throat and bubbles with saliva.
It sounds like a croak of sorts.
The lamb creature bumps its sharp snout into your stomach. Those beady eyes blink—you notice it has vertical eyelids. Gross. It’s like a giant lizard, almost.
Its teeth are gone for the moment, though, so it offers you a moment of reprieve. Or maybe it’s trying to calm you down so your blood tastes sweeter, or something. Sweat continues to roll down your neck, and you swallow the giant lump in your throat.
The red sashes of the torn clothes on its back pull with its form, ripping at the seams even more.
Your eyes flit nervously to the wound on its leg. It’s a small smear of crimson against grey fur, barely noticeable, and you’re sure the creature can’t even feel the sudden pain from it anymore. It seems to be walking fine, and it does not exhibit any discomfort when it shifts its weight to each hoof.
You wince when you spot the gnarly gash you left on it.
The lump in your throat doesn’t dislodge.
You try to ignore it.
The creature’s long neck pulls into view again. It’s watching you silently.
You figure if it wanted to eat you, it would have done so already. Hopefully you seemed inedible to it. Maybe it was an omnivore or something—but those sharp teeth were definitely not just for chewing on leaves and berries in the wild.
Morphed fingers dig deeper into the dirt beside your feet.
You stare into its eyes.
Its still eyeing you.
Huh.
It’s… curious. It blinks slowly, one eye at a time, as you slowly, and so slowly, slower than you’ve ever moved in your life, raise your hands.
Then, you navigate around its giant leg beside you and step towards the gash on its hind leg. Your foot tramples onto a twig and it snaps loudly. The creature watches you with lidded eyes, but there’s a flash of teeth in warning. You gulp.
You kneel before its wounded leg and pull your satchel from around your waist.
The creature does nothing. Its teeth disappear behind its mouth again.
“Sorry,” you whisper with a wince. You hope it can understand you’re not a threat. Maybe it’s scared of you. Wouldn’t that be a spectacle? A giant predator, some eldritch abomination in the middle of the woods, scared of a little flesh bag. “Um… I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just scared, y’see?”
You had meant to hurt it, but you’d spit little white lies if they saved your life.
The creature blinks creepily again. That uneven slow blink, like a frog.
You’re more disturbed than anything. You’re amazed that ginormous tongue locked behind its teeth hasn’t come forth to lick its sclera wet yet. Then you’d be more convinced.
You try not to let it show. “But, um…” You dig around in your satchel before you pull out a small glass vial. “I have something that might help.” The vial is made of a crystal glass with a cork in the rim. The liquid inside is a deep blue, like the blueberries growing on the nearby bushes, or like thick ink.
The creature lowers its great head down towards the bottle.
It stares at your hands expectantly before trying to sniff around the glass.
Hesitantly, you remove the cork and hold the rim closer to one of its nostrils. It most certainly doesn't smell good; it’s made up of a mixture of herbs and alcohol, but you know for a fact it does a damn good job at shielding wounds from infection. It was fool-proof medicine; you made it. And you don’t settle for less than perfection.
The creature seems displeased with the scent for it seems to flinch away from the rim. It does not swat the medicine, but it turns its head away.
It looks grumpy.
“It might help the bleeding.” It will help the bleeding. You know it will. It will heal the entire wound. But, you didn’t come here to gloat, so you keep your lips zipped shut. “It’ll sting, though.”
The creature makes a noise. It does not sound like a warning, nor an acceptance of your words. It’s simply an acknowledgement, like a toneless hum, but you also don’t speak eldritch lamb, so you could be far from the truth. For all you knew, it was hyping itself up to open its mouth around your head or take off into the trees.
Alas, it does neither of those things.
It sits back on its hind legs despite its wound and then falls into the grass.
Its eyes shut and it stills.
You blink in wonder.
Did it… die?
Nope. It’s still breathing. Its nostrils flare with every breath. There’s a giant pitiful feeling of disappointment, but at the same time, a smaller pang of relief in your stomach.
Your hand reaches out to touch the tender and raw skin around its wound.
The creature remains still. Maybe it’s sleeping. It did chase you around the forest for a good long while.
You hum. It’s like a giant dog, you think. Like a scary, huge, dog.
You take loose cloth from your satchel and dab the medicine generously into the cotton until it soaks it thoroughly. You don’t have anything to properly clean the wound with, but it will have to do. You do have a wrap of bandages, though, and it’s better than nothing.
Gingerly, you press the soaked cloth to the tip of the wound.
The creature blinks its eyes open and snarls.
You try again in the spot next to it, gently pulling any flecks of dirt you see from the gash.
It hisses then, low and horrible, and you flinch away. It watches you cautiously, hind leg pulled towards itself protectively.
“I just need to clean it,” you say desperately. You know there’s a pleaful gleam in your eyes.
The beast tilts its great head towards you before it snorts and rests down on the grass again.
When you press the cloth back to its wound, it makes a noise, but it does flinch.
So, you work gently. Slowly, like you’re treading through thick murky waters. It feels that way. The creature puffs annoyed noises through its nose, but you dutifully ignore it, watching the shimmer of the medicine in the evening sunlight to make sure it was spread evenly over the gash.
When you’re satisfied, you take its giant hoof in your lap and wrap the bandages around its leg. The size of its calf takes up almost all of the roll, but you make it work, tucking the ends into the wrap. The creature does not deter away from the treatment.
You hope it isn’t too tight.
It’ll give the beast another good reason to close its jaw around your head.
The creature blinks its gross eyes open again, those rectangular pupils drawing thinner. It’s surveying the bandaging like it’s foreign; it probably is, given the creature has probably never received treatment in its life. You notice the ghastly scars drawn over its face.
Still, you’re frightened. The noises that pour from its throat are guttural and flagrant. It’s still huge, even as it lays in the grass. When it raises its head, it’s still taller than you.
You feel a drop of sweat slip down your spine.
It probably hasn’t eaten you because you smell unappetising. You’re thankful, internally.
You stay knelt in the grass, dirt staining your pants as you watch the creature warily.
Then, it coos. It’s snout bumps into your stomach and it coos. You flinch away from the noise, hands raised near your head defensively. Why is it cooing? Does it like you? That’s better than hating you, at least. The creature huffs and puffs against your stomach, and washes of hot air waver over your sweaty face.
You shakily rest a palm on the top of its snout, mindful of the deep scars.
The creature only stares blankly.
Huh. “You’re not so bad.” You swallow nervously. “You’re sort of like a giant puppy.”
The creature lets off a low garble. It sounds innocent, like a passing noise of pleasantries. Like it’s enjoying your attention.
Your hand smooths over the strange fur. It’s coarse between your fingers, withered with age and scars, but it still somehow retains a slight softness. It’s nice. It smells suspiciously like livestock, but that’s better than smelling of blood and sinew.
The creature drowns in the feeling of your hand against its head. The gold earrings are cold against your skin.
Then, it reels back.
You almost jump when its mouth moves towards your face before a long and slimy tongue drags up your cheek. You almost gag as saliva drips from your skin, but you try not to let it show. You shiver instead, mostly out of disgust.
The creature seems pleased though.
You’re glad to be of service. And to still be alive.
Nice puppy.
You try to ignore the slime stuck to your skin as you thumb over the creature’s horns. They’re enormous, much larger than the width of your arm, but the cartilage is so delicate, and you notice chips in the black curls.
It bumps its nose into your sternum and makes a noise.
When you say nothing, it makes the same noise, but it’s drawn out and higher, more irritated. Petrified, you stumble back slightly. You have a clear shot of running now. There’s no trees trapping you with this thing. You could try and make a beeline towards where you think Jinzhou is.
The creature stares expectantly. There’s a slow kiss of a blink, and hot puffs of air fan over your face and send jitters down your spine.
“I don’t– um…” You try to settle your trembling. “I’m not understanding–”
The great creature lets out a frustrated huff, and lowers its head towards you. You think not to place your sweaty palm on its snout for pets again. It doesn’t seem to warrant them at that moment, either.
It’s getting dark now, and you’re growing nervous again. Does it grow violent in the night? Is it warning you? Oh, God, maybe it’s going to pounce.
A cloying scent fills your nose. Your eyes refocus from the tears that melt along your bottom lashes.
You watch, mortified, as the creature warps.
Those giant hooves shrink in size, followed by an engorging shadow of smoke and red dust like sand. It burns your eyes and floods your lungs wrong, and you cough, fanning your face desperately. It stinks. It smells like metals and burnt soil. This mustn’t be good for your health, inhaling all this stuff.
The creature horns curl smaller until they disappear. You can’t see much of it, but what you can see is almost disturbing. It looks painful. The silhouette of the great beast continues to shrink, and those beautiful tresses of white and grey hair curl along what can be assumed to be a more normal looking face.
Its silhouette vaguely resembles a human, but there’s much too little to see you’re not quite sure. Black ripples down those long arms and pulls away the fur covering them.
There’s the snapping and straightening of bones. You almost puke at the sound. You force yourself to look away. Sweat pools in your throat like an oasis.
When you find the courage to glance back, the shadows then peel away from the inky red fog and dust.
You gulp.
It’s a man.
It’s the beast, and you know it is because the scars on the creature’s head match the lines and pulls of his skin. He’s devoid of fur now, and his hair is dramatically shorter, small curls imitating those giant black horns twisting around the now fleshy lobes of his ears and his neck.
His clothes are the same. Ruined and tattered, but still that red coat. His shirt is caked in dirt and his pants are torn where the gash is. It’s still covered by the rolls of bandages.
He is on his hands and knees in the grass. He looks exhausted, like he’s trying to recover from the most painful transformation you’ve ever witnessed in your life.
“Um…” It’s the only thing that can seem to form coherently from your mouth.
A grin cracks onto the man’s face. “Hi.”
You nod slowly in a greeting.
Your spine snaps rod straight in fright.
The man stands to his feet slowly. His bones crack and continue snapping as he moves, and he lets off an annoyed sigh before he stretches and pulls knots from his joints.
Then, he suddenly looks alive. “That’s better. God, have you ever been trapped in your own body?” You briskly shake your head, to which he scoffs playfully and continues, “‘course you haven’t! Silly me.”
“Are you–” You feel stupid for asking, but there’s something forcing you to say it. “Are you a Tacet Discord?”
The man’s face morphs to answer your question. “Do I look like a Tacet Discord?”
Well. He did. About five minutes ago. It takes effort not to respond with irked quips, eyes flitting towards your satchel that’s still resting by his feet where you had left it.
He notices you staring at it and kneels down to pick it up. The thin strap you swing around your body is pulled over one of his fingers like the bag is a foreign object entirely.
You figure he might try and rummage inside. He won’t find much if he plans to rob you.
Instead, his eyes narrow playfully at you. “You are so interesting.” He grips the strap of your bag tight and takes one calculative step forward. “Usually, humans bore me. They’re all cut from the same meat platter, after all.
“But, you…” A pleased, airy little giggle escapes his throat. “Oh, I like you.”
Oh, this is very bad.
That smile on his face says it all.
Very, very bad.
You sucked up way too much to the beast.
You’re in for it now.
You laugh awkwardly in return. You’re not flattered in the slightest.
You hoped the world ended at that very moment. That would fix the problem.
You clear your throat quickly. “I appreciate you not eating me, sir. Really, I do! But I need to get going now. It’s getting dark, y’see, and… and it’s not safe for me to be walking around in the dark…” You’re stalling again. It worked the first time. You hope it works here again.
That doesn’t appear to be the case.
The man watches you closely.
“C-could I have my bag back?” You curse yourself for letting the waver in your voice slip. It sounds hopeless.
As expected, he only snorts. “Nope.” He swings it over his shoulder. “You’re not going anywhere just yet.”
You really need your stuff.
Your feet remain planted into the floor.
He’s scary. His smile isn’t normal. The scars pulling around his eyes make it so much worse, too.
His head tilts curiously to the side. He’s walking right towards you now. His eyes rapidly move from your face down to your legs, surveying every inch of you he could.
You want to fall through the floor and disappear.
“What’s your name, little lamb?”
Your heart spikes in your chest. He’ll follow you right back to the city, you know it. You can see it in his eyes, and his expression—where’s that stick to swat him off? Your eyes frantically search the ground as you move for some sort of branch to stave him off.
Your hands raise in front of you to keep him away, but of course your little frail body isn’t going to deter him in the slightest.
If anything, he only coos again.
You tell him your name reluctantly when your foot stumbles over a stray root. You don’t topple over. You can’t imagine what would happen to you if you had to start crawling away from him.
He repeats it once.
Then, his grin softens. “I like it.” It looks relatively normal now, like he’s not about to dig his teeth into your flesh. They’ve straightened up from how sharp they were prior, but you’re sure those canines could do enough damage. “I like you. You’re so nice. So small. So silly.”
You swallow hard.
He says nothing else.
Your brows knit together in worry. “What’s your name?”
His eyes flit down to himself as if he’s wracking his brain to remember. Then, he says, “Scar.”
Underwhelming. It’s like calling a kitten ‘Cat.’ You don’t voice your disappointment. At least his name is simple, and easy to remember.
Your eyes swarm to his bandaged leg.
He’s not even limping. The gash seems like nothing but a fleeting thought.
The man, Scar, hums thoughtfully, a nail pointed onto his cheek. “It’s not everyday you find a little white lamb away from its flock. It would be unwise to give you up to the other creatures in the forest.”
You swallow whatever courage you have left in your bones. “I don’t need protection, but thank you.”
He can keep your satchel. You are out of here.
You turn away from him this time and continue walking forward.
“Oh, but didn’t you just say it’s not safe for you to be out here in the dark?” His words taper off into a chuckle. His smile twists into something grotesque again. His arms are pulled open into some sort of mocking await of an embrace. “Come, little one. I promise I am gentle.”
You don’t believe him.
You’re sweating again. Hot ash clings into your lungs. You stifle the urge to choke on your spit in fear.
Your head turns back to watch him, suddenly alarmed. Gooseflesh raises on your arms.
Stupid.
Your foot catches onto a thick protruding root in the dirt again, but this time you do stumble to the floor. Your head smashes against the ground but you can’t pay it too much mind. You’re panicked, and ice rushes through your veins like blood.
You push yourself up instantly, but he’s quicker, and a foot stamps down onto your calf. It doesn’t hurt, no, but it’s firm enough to keep you there.
His knees hit the dirt on either side of your legs and you’re cornered. You try to sit up to the best of your ability, but he tuts as if he’s reprimanding a child. “Now, now. You’ve hit your head. You could be seriously hurt, y’know?”
“‘M fine!” You push on his chest when he leans down far too close to inspect you. “Get off!”
There’s no physical damage except for a small welt. You feel dizzy, but that’s to be expected.
There’s something alight in his eyes.
Excitement.
This is a game to him.
Scar lets you sit up, though he’s still very much straddling your lap.
That same wobbly grin pulls onto his lips.
Oh, gross. You should never have treated his wounds. Now he’s staring at you like you’re the only thing that matters to him. You’ve caused some great beast to grow delusional because you wanted to be nice.
You’re never stopping to help lonely animals in the forest ever again.
You swear you see hearts bubble and pop from his head when he blinks at you. He hums a small giggle before his arms wrap around your neck and draw his chest into yours.
He squeezes you tight and you buzz with the excitement that radiates off his skin in heat waves. More and more hearts float from his head, and you’re sure his pupils are a shape to match.
“I want to keep you.”
He squishes his cheek against yours.
“Uh…” What the hell else do you say? Especially to this thing that’s swamped over you like a giant teddy bear. You can’t even breathe.
“So small. Are humans usually this tiny? And you’re so warm–”
You claw at his arms. His grip loosens over your neck.
He doesn’t look the slightest bit apologetic. Instead, he looks intrigued and experimentally squeezes around your throat again. “Oh. I always forget just how fragile humans are.”
You sigh in defeat.
Oh, boy.
This is going to be a long night.
#wuthering waves x reader#wuwa x reader#wuwa scar#wuthering waves scar#wuwa scar x reader#scar x reader#✦ ( the macrocosmos. )
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Black Butler (Kuroshitsuji) AU
I'm still feral over Kuroshitsuji so we're gonna have a Demon!Hob and Nobleman!Dream AU.
yes, I know I have already written demon!dream and priest!hob, but I wanna have demon butler!hob and monsterfucker nobleman!dream too 🥺
CW: dark! monsterfucking! slightly spicy
So. Okay. To start, the Endless and the Burgess families are business rivals. Randall Burgess wants to make his father proud, and decides that the way to do that is by attacking the Endless family in their own home by himself and some hired men.
He dies in the attempt.
The thing is, the Endless didn't even lay a hand on him. The people who killed him are the very same men he hired to help him attack the Endless mansion unprompted.
In the thugs' defense, they'd rather be alive with only half the payment that Randall gave them than fuck with the Endless. Most sensible folk don't, and unfortunately for Randall, the men he hired wanted to live more than they wanted to be rich.
They tell Roderick Burgess that it was the Endless who did it, though, because why damn themselves when reliable forensics doesn't exist, and Old Man Roderick already has confirmation bias?
Naturally, Roderick immediately believes them, and gets his revenge on the Endless by setting their mansion on fire, killing everyone in it except for Dream, who he had arranged to be kidnapped earlier in the night. Dream is the closest to Randall in age, and Roderick plans to sacrifice Dream to a demon to get his son back. A life for a life and all that.
And so Dream is gagged, then chained to a sacrificial altar in the basement while Roderick and the rest of his followers do a demon summoning ritual.
Except the demon they summoned is Hob, who finds Roderick's wish tedious. A life for a life? They summoned him all the way from Hell just for that? Please.
If Roderick had asked for his son back, as well as riches and fame, then Hob might consider negotiating with him. He has always loved greedy humans. They're more reckless, and they usually get killed within a year or two after the contract is sealed, leaving Hob free to take up another contract.
He has already hit quota in the 16th century actually, and is just doing this for fun, in case there are some humans with interesting enough deals willing to make a deal with him.
But a grieving father with no need for anything else but his stupid son back? Hob doesn't have time for that.
Just as Hob is about to leave, Dream manages to get free of his gag and calls attention to himself.
Hob sees him, feels the murderous aura coming from him, and thinks he'd rather make a deal with this one, actually. He's prettier than any human Hob has ever met, and he looks like he has a more interesting deal to offer him than bringing someone back from the dead.
"What about you, pretty thing?" Hob says to the beautiful being in chains on the altar. "You got a better deal for me?"
And listen. Dream is smart, so he knows not to ask to get his family and pet raven back after seeing how disinterested the demon looked after Roderick said his wish. But he's also very much not in the right state of mind to be making a deal with a demon. He needs a therapist.
Unfortunately, actual proper therapists do not exist back in the Victorian era, and Dream is in the anger stage of the five stages of grief.
He saw how the demon looked at him with lust. And the demon isn't bad-looking at all. Quite the opposite, actually. And so he thinks, fuck it.
If he's gonna be damned for eternity for wanting the entire Burgess family dead, then he better do a good job and actually wipe them off the face of the earth. From Roderick to his cult followers to the servants, all of whom did nothing when he begged them for help.
Everyone who has ever wronged him is going to pay, and he is going to stand over their corpses and laugh. And if he has a handsome demon by his side with his hands red with blood doing Dream's bidding? Then all the better.
Dream sends Roderick Burgess his most hateful look, then turns back to the demon patiently waiting for him to speak. "Help me get revenge on everyone who has wronged me and my family," Dream says, "and I will be yours forever."
And, well.
Hob can't say no to that.
Vengeance is his favorite kind of contract, and the prospect of having this beautiful man forever in exchange for doing a job he loves?
Hob gets to work.
After, when there's no one else left alive, Hob walks over the corpses in order to unchain Dream from the sacrificial altar. The nobleman is still mostly clean, with only a few blood splatters here and there marring his pale skin and white dressing gown. They must have kidnapped him while he was sleeping.
Hob makes sure to be gentle with him. The poor thing looks like he's already been through so much over the past day alone.
"You okay, lovely thing?"
Dream nods and allows the demon to remove his chains. He is not at all alright, but the sight of viscera and blood covering the entire basement apart from the sacrificial altar where Dream is, as well as the feeling of the demon's gentle hands upon him made him feel a sense of peace.
"I want to reward you for a job well done," he tells the demon, who laughs as the final set of chains is removed from Dream's ankles. His fangs look so very sharp in the candlelight.
"No offense, darling," the handsome demon says, "but what can you possibly reward me with?"
In response, Dream wordlessly opens his legs.
After, when Hob has Dream in his arms, both of them still lying on the stone altar, Hob thinks that he could get used to this. He has always longed to have someone who only belongs to him, and Dream's deal--and how he worded it, allows Hob to have him like this.
Even if Dream were to die, Lucifer Morningstar themself wouldn't own his soul, because Hob already has it, and it has been given to him fair and square and very enthusiastically.
Dream shifts in his hold so he is looking up at Hob while his head rested on Hob's hairy chest. His pale fingers feel lovely caressing his chest hair. "Something on your mind, Hob?"
"Nothing much, my lord," he replies. "Just thinking how this might be the best deal I've struck in ages."
The best deal period, but they've only just met, and Hob doesn't want to frighten Dream with how possessive he can get.
Dream ducks his head in shyness, which Hob thinks is adorable considering how barely five minutes ago, the man was on his cock, riding him like an experienced equestrian, and begging him to fill his belly with demon cum.
So yeah. Hob really lucked out.
What he doesn't know is that Dream ducked his head so he could smile a secret smile against Hob's chest, sated and victorious, his hole filled with a copious amount of demon cum, his nipples puffy and swollen, and his entire body still shaking intermittently with the pleasure of his last orgasm.
Hob made sure he had a really good time, and Dream is keen to ride him again as soon as his legs cooperate with him.
Were his very religious parents still alive, they would be scandalized to know that Dream gave his virginity to a demon. So in a way, it's good that they're already dead.
When he rebuilds the Endless mansion, he is going to have Hob fuck him in each and every room. As a reward for his continued service, of course, and not because he's already addicted to him.
The demon doesn't know yet how many enemies the Endless family has made throughout the years. He's going to be Dream's for life, and Dream is going to be his in death.
Like a true Endless, Dream has managed to strike a very good deal, and made the other party believe that it was them who struck a better deal.
Hob might get very angry with him once he finds out about the neverending vengeance plots he'll be helping Dream with, but Dream is determined to make it worth his while.
"What's on your mind, sweet Dream?" Hob asks, one hand grazing over the contract seal in the middle of Dream's chest, which was glowing as red as a ruby. The light will fade in time, he had been told, but for now, he would have to wear thicker upper garments to hide the glow.
"Nothing much," Dream says, echoing the demon's words from earlier. "Just how much I'm looking forward to our partnership."
#black butler AU#a.k.a. hob and dream are both dark and unhinged (and unapologetic about it)#as usual they are feral for each other at first sight#to my surprise there is almost no blasphemy in this#dreamling#the sandman#my writing#all I'm saying is if hob were a demon I'm willing to bet most of us would strike a deal with him 🤷♀️
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Part 1
Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Part 2
A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August and Sherlock
Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...
Warnings: This is a vampireAU!!! There will be blood, there will be biting, there will be graphic depictions of both. It's not going to be a gorefest, though. Also there will be smut. Eventually.
Word count: 2.5k
A/N: Are we leaning into some serious monsterfucker vibes with this one? Oh absolutely hell yeah we are. Am I ridiculously scared to even post this? *Yes.* You literally can't overestimate how much I'm trembling right now.
I took some (a lot of) creative liberties with the vampire lore for this one, so if you're very heavily into traditional vampire lore, this may not be for you. It's my first time delving into anything fantasy-esque like this, so bear with me! (Friendly tips are always welcome.) Also, this is probably going to be weird. So there's that. We're doing kinky vampires, ok? Like. I can't make this more normal than what it sounds like.
@geralts-yenn As promised 🥰
@deandoesthingstome @summersong69 you both asked for a general tag... This is what that gets you. 🙈🙈🙈
“V-vampire? What do you mean you're a… You can't be.” It felt like the ground disappeared beneath your feet, and you were freefalling into darkness. You’d been dating Mikey for months, and now he… It couldn’t be true. It had to not be true.
“I am.” Mike looked at you, an apology clearly displayed on his face and in his voice. As if that was going to be enough. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I thought you knew…”
“And exactly how the fuck was I supposed to know?”
Mike shrugged. “The mandatory health classes in high school shou…”
“I was homeschooled.” Your anger dissipated somewhat. Apparently, at least part of this was your parents’ fault for misinforming you about vampires in general.
“Oh shit… I had no idea, sorry. Eh… What were you told about us?”
“That you're monsters…” That was the gist of it. You’d never believed much of it, and it had made you curious rather than scared. Less scared of vampires, at least. Your father, now that was a whole other story. “I-I'm so dead. My father… If he finds out…”
“He'd be pretty pissed if he found out you're living with a bunch of vampires?” Mikey’s casual tone was way out of place, but you knew he couldn’t help it. He was Mike, after all. But was he really? Was he still the Mikey you knew? The Mike you… loved?
“Of course it's all three of you. Fuck! Yes, he'd be pretty mad, to say the least. And he'll for sure disown me if he knew I let myself be defiled by one. God! I can't believe this. I slept with you. I… Vampire… Fuck.”
“Defiled? Jesus, please don’t say things like that. You’re making me feel like a monster.” He paused for a moment while he gathered his thoughts. “Are you scared of me?”
“No…” It wasn’t a lie, per se. You weren’t scared of the Mike you knew; you just weren’t entirely convinced that your Mike hadn’t changed.
“Do you want to leave?”
“No.” Apart from the fact you had nowhere to go, you didn’t see much reason to leave. If he was telling the truth when he said he genuinely believed you’d known all this time, then you had no reason to fear them, or to leave. If they wanted you gone, you’d be gone, one way or another.
“Do you hate me?” He looked as if he knew it was a ridiculous question, but he was still asking. You couldn’t help but wonder why.
“Mikey, stop, no. I… I'm not like my family, but this is hard. Even if I didn't believe everything they told me growing up, there's still a lot in between not believing vampires are the devil and fucking one.”
“Whoa, thanks. We're just screwing, then?”
“Mike, that's not what I meant. I just… That's what makes me so pissed you never told me! I really liked you. I still do.” You were fifty shades of confused right now, trying to make sense of the fact that your boyfriend hadn’t quite lied about yet still omitted the fact that he was a vampire.
“I'm really, really sorry! I genuinely thought you knew!”
“How was I supposed to know? You're out in the sun! I've seen you eat… Food. I've seen you eat garlic. You show up in pictures and in mirrors.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you realized it was entirely possible that the information you’d gotten from your parents and their – generally lacking – education may not have been entirely correct.
“Ah. I see some inaccuracies are still alive and well in the homeschooling department.” Somehow, saying something like that was something Mike could get away with without sounding like a massive dick. There was something in his tone that made it abundantly clear to you that you weren’t at fault for this whole… Misunderstanding? Was that the right way to describe it, or was it a gigantic understatement?
“Well enlighten me.” Mike quickly offered to make you a cup of tea while you had that conversation, which you gladly accepted. Mike put the kettle on and gestured at you to sit down on the couch.
“Get comfortable, we're in for a long talk.” You grabbed a blanket and waited for Mike to join you on the couch. He handed you your tea and you smiled a little nervously. “Fuck, Sweetcheeks, can I hug you?” Mike seemed genuinely upset at everything that was happening right now, which didn’t make you happy – you hated seeing him like this – but it definitely did make you feel more comfortable knowing that he had really never meant for this to happen.
“Where do we start.” You still couldn’t believe you were having this conversation. It seemed like a weird thing to find out about so late. Then again, you’d gone years without knowing your childhood best friend was left-handed, and you hadn’t known your English Literature professor was gay until a friend had pointed that out to you somewhere in the past week. You just weren’t very observant. Apparently.
“I'd like to apologize again, that's for sure. And after that… Do you have any questions?” He then proceeded to answer every question you had as they bubbled up in your brain in seemingly random order.
“Is this why you're so cold sometimes?” You felt silly asking these questions. It all suddenly really felt like you should have learned these things by now. Like making toast or stacking a dishwasher or doing laundry. Alright, you still weren’t completely clear on the laundry part, but you knew more about that than vampires. As it turns out, it was highly unusual for humans to even notice the difference in temperature, but you were on the right track with your question.
“It is. I'm colder when I'm hungry. And warmer after eating human food.” Apparently, it took up more energy to digest human food.
“Compared to eating people?”
“Whoa, Sweetcheeks, we don't 'eat people', okay? We drink blood, that's different!” He actually looked insulted when you said that, and maybe he was right to feel that way…
“You suck it out of people,” you said in a small voice. The comparison seemed logical…
“Shit, Sweetcheeks, you've sucked things out of me, do you 'eat vampires'?” Of course. That was such a Mikey thing to say…
“Why do I always have to be around when he says something stupid like that?” You immediately froze when you heard the dark, smooth baritone of Walter’s voice.
“Terrible timing? You somehow managed. He chuckled softly – the sound always gave you chills, but in a good way. Maybe a bit too good.
“Or so it would seem. As always, I apologize for his existence!”
“It's alright, I forgive him.”
“What were you even talking about? Wait, do I want to know?” Marshall decided to join the both of you in the living room. Mike didn’t protest, and you weren’t opposed to a second teacher to help explain all of these things. You just hoped that August wouldn’t show up; he wasn’t very good at hiding disdain, and he’d certainly have plenty of it stowed away for moments exactly like this one.
“She had no idea we are vampires.”
“You've been living with us for months? Did they teach you nothing in hi-“
“Homeschooled,” Mike clarified quickly. You felt a blush creep up to your cheeks; you definitely hadn’t felt like this in a long time. Like a clueless child in dire need of adults to tell her how the world worked. It reminded you a little bit too much of the way your parents had always treated you.
“Ah. My bad. And you're trying to rectify the situation using phrases like that?” Luckily, it was Mike that was being judged by Marshall, and you sighed in relief.
“She accused me of eating people,” Mike said, looking like a sad puppy; pouty and adorable.
“Alright, that's a gratuitous overstatement.”
“How do you even eat? Drink? Feed? ... You don't kill people, do you?”
“Love, this isn't the dark ages, there's safe ways for us to feed – ‘feed’ would be the most commonly used term.” Marshall chuckled. “And most importantly; the 'people we eat' are willing to let us feed.”
“Why would they do that voluntarily?” It seemed kind of weird to you to just, what? Walk up to vampires and go ‘here, suck my blood?’ Another Marshall-chuckle tore you away from your thoughts.
“Well, they’re not volunteers, per se. It pays pretty well.”
“It's a job?” That made more sense, but something about that felt… obscene and perverted? Though you did recognize that that was probably your upbringing talking.
“Yes, it is. It’s quite popular among students; you're just sitting around, with plenty of time to study.” Marshall’s explanation didn’t come across as judgy or mocking, he just explained. Nothing more, nothing less. “Some are purely in it for the money, and are really freaked out about the bites. It always sucks -pun not intended – when you get one of those.” That had you curious, and you asked about the ‘why’ behind that.
“Fear makes blood taste weird,” Marshall said. Apparently, it had something to do with the hormones humans released when scared.
“I bet August likes it,” Mikey said with a massive grin on his face.
“A little adrenaline from excitement and anticipation, sure,” Of course August came home right that second. You remembered what your parents had briefly warned you about; vampires had keen senses. You wondered if Mike had heard August coming. “But genuine fear? Might as well feed during finals week.” Another tidbit of information that would have been infinitely more informative if you knew the first thing about vampires and their feeding practices, but you didn’t. Therefore, you had to ask again – and this time, you had to ask August.
“What?”
“Lots of stress doesn't make it taste any better, either. Why are we teaching Vampire Health 1 to an undergrad?” There it was: some good old, signature August derision to feast on.
“Homeschooled,” the three of you said in unison.
“My apologies,” August said. He seemed sincere, and his attitude disappeared immediately.
“The feeding... I take it it's not a fun little restaurant experience?” You asked your question carefully, afraid to have been misinterpreting everything the whole way through, but you were met with three looks that proved you right beyond a shadow of a doubt.
“It definitely isn't. It's a long wait, and you basically have no idea of what you're going to get, no choice at all, and you're out of whack for anywhere from three days to a week.” Mike said, shuddering at the thought.
“Why would you feel out of it?” That didn’t make any sense. Wasn’t eating supposed to make you feel better, not worse?
“They dose you with garlic,” Mike answered as if that explained everything. You gave the boys a quizzical look.
“Oh good grief, this is why Sherlock spends most of his time at the clinic dealing with transitioning homeschooled kids.” August growled. His exasperation wasn’t aimed at you, per se, you noticed. The guys seemed to be very sympathetic towards your status as a nitwit homeschooled kid.
“I'm completely lost, guys.”
“You're completely lucky you're not one of us, princess.” August said. His voice was more mellow than it had been a few moments ago, as if he was trying to make it clear to you that he wasn’t frustrated with you. That being said, he didn’t quite succeed; he still sounded pretty pissed, and you weren’t convinced it wasn’t aimed at you. “Not that being a vampire is so bad, but it shouldn't be an accident.”
“What were you told about becoming a vampire?” Marshall shot August a look that clearly meant he needed to calm the fuck down.
“You get bit, you become a vampire.” You shrugged. That was basically all your parents had told you about the process. “Oh and that it's the most painful thing ever. And there was something about the fires of hell. Actually, the fires of hell got mentioned quite a lot.” The guys laughed at that, which made you very happy. It had been a joke, after all – well, the ‘funny because it’s true’ kind – and it did break the tension a little. It also didn’t seem to be something they hadn’t heard before.
“Alright, they weren't wrong about the biting part, per se. It's not a given, but there's a pretty decent success rate.” Marshall explained.
“'s where the garlic comes in. You were probably told that vampires and garlic don't mix?” You nodded in reply to Mike's question. “Alright. Not necessarily a lie. Garlic does make us easier to kill, which is what the hell-yellers choose to interpret as 'vampire eat garlic, vampire die'.”
“Which can't be true, because you're all still here.”
“Exactly. What it does do,” August continued, ”is weaken us. We're slower, less strong, and it fogs our brain a little. What it also does, is weaken the toxin our teeth secrete when they come into contact with human blood.”
“Not animal blood?”
“Imagine a vampire tiger or bear, princess, and then consider whether or not that's a sound idea from an evolutionary point of view.” August took one look at your face and laughed. It was something you didn’t hear often, and even if you did it was usually mixed into the laughter of the others. It was nice, though. “Exactly.”
“So garlic is what? Vampire contraceptive?”
“Pretty much,” Mike said, “and since the places where we feed can't trust everyone to take their daily dose, they OD you on the stuff to the point where you can't see straight. There's a reason most of us only go once a month or so.”
“This is a lot...”
“Yeah, this was the speed run of maybe just about half of a ten-week high school course,” Marshall said, “and most of those kids have been given information from a very young age. Correct information.”
“What about the sun? And reflections? Do you need to be invited into houses?” Whenever you thought you were out of things to ask about, something else came to mind.
“Sunscreen, myth and yes,” August answered your questions effectively, which was nice, given the fact that you were really approaching the limits of how much information you could handle in a single day.
“Su- no.” That was an explanation that was so devilishly simple that it couldn’t be true. At the very least it was incredibly anticlimactic.
“He’s not lying to you, love,” Marshall said, “we've been around for ages, give me one good reason why your scientists have come up with something that prevents you from burning in the sun, but ours wouldn't have?”
“Vampire scientists?”
“You can meet one, if Sherlock ever makes it back.”
#walter marshall x ofc#sherlock x ofc#mike x ofc#august walker x ofc#henrycavill fanfic#henry cavill characters#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill#mike (hellraiser)#mike hellraiser fic#mike hellraiser#hellraiser mike#august walker fanfiction#august walker#walter marshall#walter marshall fanfiction#sherlock holmes#henry cavill sherlock holmes#hc sherlock#sherlock holmes x ofc
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Hello hello! Can I request threesome with wolf Koga and wolf Jun??? With female reader??? Knocking reader until her belly swollen with their child??? So sorry if it lacking details, but recently i played enstar jp and they put Koga and Jun together on the anniversary screen.... And now I cannot stop fantasy about them having threesome with me 😭😭😭😭😭😭
Wolf!Jun Sazanami and Wolf!Koga Oogami x Fem!Reader
Happy Late Halloween! This prompt was too fitting to pass up for spooky season, so I did my best to try and get it out on time!
tags/warnings: monsterfucking, threesome, breeding, cum inflation, knotting, double penetration, rough sex, cunninglus, overstimulation, size kink
ao3 link!
You gasped as strong, fur-covered arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against soft, bluish-grey fur. Another pair of claws tugged at your legs, the hair that tickled your skin a more silver color.
It was a full moon, which meant your partners had shed their human figures for the night in favor of their more bestial forms. They had grown much taller, your head not even reaching their necks, and every inch of their skin was covered in fur, hiding away the toned bodies of predators. Even their faces were different; noses replaced with snouts, and teeth grown larger into sharp canines. the only remnants of their human forms were the yellow eyes that stared at you while their large, pointed ears twitched at every small sound you made.
Luckily for you they were still the same men you fell in love with mindset wise, and wouldn’t be bloodthirsty towards you. Unluckily though, they still managed to piss each other off, catching you right in the crossfire of their dispute. Koga growled at the other wolf as Jun rubbed his large snout against your neck, scenting you and angering Koga further. You really weren’t sure why they were arguing now of all days, but clearly it involved you somehow.
“Boys—” You tried to wiggle your body, Jun squeezing your midriff too tightly for comfort, “Can you just share? I thought we agreed on that!”
“Mate.” Jun growled into your ear, continuing to rub up against you while he pressed a large paw against your flat stomach. “Give pups.”
Oh, that was what this was about. The single mention of mating answered your questions while also sending blood rushing to your cheeks. You were into the idea of being railed while your boyfriends were in their wolf forms, but you didn’t want them fighting over it. First, you had to deal with the current situation. Koga didn’t seem happy with how Jun was rubbing his scent all over you, his claws threatening to dig into your skin.
“First.” Koga barked, and he tried to pull on your legs to get Jun to let go. You yelped at the strong tug—his strength was no joke. Your head would have hit the ground if Jun wasn’t still clutching it to his chest!
“Koga!” You squeaked. “The order doesn’t matter if you’re both doing it on the same night, just let Jun do it first, okay?”
You wanted to reason with him, but Koga just snarled angrily, snapping his fangs at Jun. He wasn’t going to accept that idea of course, but Jun wasn’t going to let go of his hold on you either. You were getting really tired of their behavior.
“Ugh, why are you both so territorial all of a sudden? Can’t you guys just work together?”
They suddenly quieted down in surprise, and you registered what you had suggested as a throwaway remark. Surprisingly, they didn’t speak up, but rather stared at each other before both nodding.
“G-Guys, I was joking!” You panicked as you realized they were taking it seriously. “There’s no way you two would fit at the same time—”
Your worries went unheard, as the wolves seemed to have already taken the idea to heart. Jun continued to hold your body up as Koga reached his claws out to tear your pants off your legs, the ruined fabric falling to the ground.
“Hey!” You whined. “I liked those!”
He didn’t seem to care though, and Jun didn’t either as the other wolf followed suit with tearing off your shirt and bra. The cold air hit your breasts and you gasped, eyes falling towards the sharp claws that were already on your hips. Your panties were nothing but paper to be shredded to a lustful wolf, and you whimpered when the remains of it fell to the ground, leaving your cunt completely exposed.
Koga kneeled down, and from above you watched his snout rub against your folds, making you shudder and let out a sudden whine when his canine tongue licked it. He liked what he tasted, because he began to lap at it eagerly, making you gasp and buck your hips up. Koga’s tongue kept poking past your folds all too easily, your walls unable to clench onto the slippery muscle for too long. His sharp fangs pinched your sensitive skin, the mild jolts it sent through your body amplifying your pleasure. Jun also gave your shoulders licks and gentle bites, careful not to draw any blood. Your moans filled the air, the wet sounds of Koga’s tongue exploring your drenched pussy accompanying it. The occasional growl of satisfaction rumbled from their throats, but otherwise only the sounds of your pleasure were heard.
“K-Koga!” You moaned, orgasm coming much too quickly from his ministrations. The wolf just continued to lap at your pussy even as your juices gushed onto his face, clearly enjoying how you tasted.
He finally pulled away a few licks later, his snout wet with your fluids and leaving you a panting mess. Koga stood back up, and your eyes widened as they caught sight of his unsheathed cock poking out from beneath his silver fur. Just the sight of the veins throbbing along his red skin made you whimper—you had no idea how he intended to push it all inside of you. You felt something hard pressing against your thigh from below as well. If Koga wasn’t enough, you were going to be dealing with both him and Jun at the same time.
Koga’s claws dug into your soft thighs as he pushed your legs against your chest, Jun restraining your arms with his own so that you could do nothing but feel the cool air hit your dripping wet folds. You squeaked as you felt two large cocks press against your entrance—even just the bulbous heads seemed like a giant mountain to climb.
“W-Wait, b-be gentle—“ You cut yourself off with a scream as Koga shoved the tip of his cock inside you, growling as he tried to push the entirety of his length inside you in one go. Of course you were much too tight for that, so he huffed and pulled it out before slamming back inside. Your wails and the squelching of your fluids filled the air, his cock constantly forcing your walls apart until he was finally satisfied it had gotten mostly inside. He stilled, but that was when Jun’s own cock pressed against your already stretched entrance. You whimpered and braced yourself as it pushed inside you, rubbing against both your walls and Koga’s cock.
Jun took his time sliding himself in, but the stretch was still painful. The wolf rolled his hips with grunts and tried to push himself in as best he could, your walls being torn apart to conform to the two cocks inside you before he also stilled. Your cunt was stretched far beyond you thought possible, taking in not just one, but two giant wolf cocks. It was tight, and you had never felt so filled in your life, but you thought maybe you could eventually adjust. That was until they began to move.
Koga slid out first, pulling his length out until it was just the ginormous head left inside, but then when he began to slide back in, Jun took his place, pulling himself out and rubbing against Koga’s cock along the way. Your two beloved wolves, unable to get along just moments ago, were now fucking you in sync. You were seeing stars with each thrust, both of their dicks slapping against your skin and rearranging your guts.
Jun was taking his time, grunting while setting a good pace of bouncing you on his dick, while Koga was much more erratic, just trying to fill you as fast as possible. Either way, you were never left empty, as when one pulled out, another pushed back in a second later. Each time they pressed against your cervix you wailed loudly, which coaxed them to thrust even harder.
“K-Koga! Jun!” You screamed their names as you climaxed, the overwhelming feeling of two cocks inside you too much for you to possibly last long. They didn’t let up one bit though, and you felt another orgasm build up before your first even finished.
Your arousal wasn’t the only thing growing. The bases of both their cocks began to swell, and you gasped as their large knots pressed against your entrance each time one of them tried to bottom out. You were already so stretched out, there was no way you could fit one inside you, much less two! Nevertheless, they both were determined to knot you and knock you up, the prospect of puppies too alluring for them to think rationally. Any common sense had been thrown out the window the moment they first drove their dicks inside you.
You continued to babble and sob as another orgasm quickly washed over you, the pleasure also painful due to how you tried to contract around lengths that were so much bigger than your cunt could take. And yet take them you did, your body nothing more than a fuck toy for them to rut into. A mate for them to impregnate. You couldn’t help but love every second of it.
“Please…” You moaned, not even sure what you were begging for. “Please! Koga, Jun, p-please! I need it!”
Jun growled and sped his pace up, harshly slamming upwards, trying to split your walls apart to fully take in his length. Koga was doing the same, scratching your skin and leaving red marks on your legs as drool dribbled down his chin and onto your bouncing breasts.
Finally, in some sort of miracle, Jun’s knot popped inside of you, immediately locking him in place. He barked happily, and that made Koga slam particularly hard inside of you to allow his knot to join Jun’s. They howled together loudly, their knots finally finding their place inside you. Your voice was hoarse as you came yet again, your walls clamping down tightly onto their cocks. This time however, warmth erupted into your womb as they flooded your insides with their hot, fertile seed. The mixture of two heavy loads being dumped inside you nearly made your eyes roll back in your head, mouth left agape as your stomach bulged from the sheer amount they were pumping into your body.
They kept filling you up in spurts, another shot of cum mixing with the rest swimming inside your womb in what felt like a never ending cycle. It did eventually stop, but at that point you were too completely fucked out of your mind to notice. Your wolves had marked you, both inside and outside, as theirs. Koga let go of your legs, your toes barely able to brush against the ground. He lay down on the ground and they both guided you to rest on his fluffy chest, Jun being careful not to crush you with his weight as he positioned himself behind you, allowing you to sit on Koga’s dick while Jun also stayed inside you. Their knots remained stuck in position, so they did their best to get you in a comfortable position, which was on your knees and your face against Koga’s chest.
The feeling of their cocks inside you would be imprinted on your mind forever, your cunt wouldn’t be satisfied by anything else from now on. Satisfied grunts came from Koga’s mouth as he licked your face affectionately, snapping you out of your post orgasmic daze. Your hands reached to scratch the fluff of his mane, making him loll his tongue out and pant happily.
Slowly but surely, their knots finally receded. Your stomach was still bulging with their cum, and you shuddered when Jun slid his length out, barely feeling any liquid gush out from you. They had fucked you so hard all their cum had stayed in place, waiting patiently to find your eggs and fertilize them. You thought that Jun pulling away meant he was finished, but instead a gasp was ripped out of you when he plunged himself right back in, like he had never left.
“A-Ah, wait…”
Jun licked your earlobe affectionately before he began to thrust again, Koga letting out small groans as his own cock began to harden up inside you once more. They were far from done with you. One thing was clear, you were going to be carrying their pups by morning.
#enstars smut#ensemble stars smut#enstars x reader smut#jun sazanami smut#koga oogami smut#request#nsft es!!
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🌀Post the fic summary for a fic you haven't written/published yet. It can be hypothetical or something you really plan on releasing...
💧Share something romantic/hot from your WIP, or just something sweet if it's gen!
Wow, you have WEIRDLY perfect timing because I JUST started a Doc for Fic ideas.
The only fic idea I have so far in the Doc is for a CanUkr Monsterfucker fic:
Matthew is some sort of humanoid creature and Katyusha is a farmer on the outskirts of a small village. Matthew has been attacking livestock, which has angered the villagers and they plot to kill him. Katyusha, knowing that Matthew was only doing so because he didn’t realize the livestock wasn’t for him to hunt, manages to talk the villagers into sparing him. She then takes it upon herself to take care of Matthew, offering up her livestock to keep him fed so that he stays away from the rest of the village. Matthew mistakes Katyusha’s kindness as a courting ritual, one he is more than eager to accept. One night he finds Katyusha alone in her barn, where he takes her as his mate and spends the rest of the night filling her up with his offspring.
Surprising I don’t have anything spicy at the moment (shocking I know! 😱), but I have a cute little snippet that’s always from the next part of my CanUkr DILF AU WIP:
Katyusha found Matthew leaning up against his car, idly scrolling through his phone while he waited for her. His previously bare chest was now covered up with a dark gray T-shirt and dark red flannel he’d left undone, along with having ditched his sweatpants for a pair of jeans. Kat let out a silent breath, relieved to see Matthew dressed so casually as well. The soft sounds of her footsteps made Matthew look up from his phone, a wide smile spreading across his face as he watched Kat slowly approach the car.
“Hey there stranger,” Matthew greeted, “I was started to worry that I’d been stood up.”
A light shade of pink colored Kat’s cheeks as she awkwardly laughed along with Matthew at his gentle teasing.
“I’m real sorry about that, I got so caught up in finding something to wear that I didn’t realize just how much time had passed!” Katyusha explained.
Matthew shook his head in response, almost like he was telling her that she had nothing to feel guilty about.
“It seems your time was well spent,” He eyed her up and down in approval, “You look…so lovely.
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RP Scenario 1
Scenario: A beauty and the beast situation, but with preg/monsterfucking.
A woman stumbles into a castle one night, buried deep in the woods and far from the rest of society. She's exhausted and almost delirious from a horrendous journey, traveling through snow and on the run, but she manages to get inside. Unbeknownst to her, the castle's key resident is the heir to a royal family of shapeshifters, all of whom have been trapped in monstrous form from a curse placed upon them. They stay in their castle at all times, terrified of what the outside world would do to them if they ever left. The monstrous heir has vowed to protect them, and thus puts on a dangerous persona to keep them safe- but the woman who's been on the run tugs on his heart strings. Deep down, she seems as desperate as him, even though she remains unafraid of his appearance. He's close to making her leave, but upon realizing she's heavily pregnant and in bad shape, allows her to stay and hide out.
While helping to nurse her back to health, he quickly finds out she's been trying to escape a hunter who has been pursuing her relentlessly, having kept her in an abusive relationship after getting her pregnant. She claims she only stayed because she was worried the hunter would turn his anger on her father if she left, but she was finally forced to do so to protect her parent, unwilling to give any more details. The prince feels empathetic to her situation and promises to help her stay safe. She treats him with a level of kindness that he hasn't felt in years. The two bond quickly, tumbling into a sexual and romantic relationship.
However, their slice of paradise shatters when the hunter finds their castle, and is determined to get the woman back and kill the prince. In order to protect him when the hunter attacks, she suddenly shifts into a beast as well- making the prince realize why she had left earlier. Her mother had been a shapeshifter who was killed by hunters, but the woman been raised by her human father and concealed the ability to remain safe. She didn't know if her own child would be able to control the shifting when it was born, so she left to protect them both.
The two manage to momentarily escape and she turns human once more; however, the stress of shifting breaks her waters, leading the prince and the rest of the castle to try and fight off or hide from the hunter and keep the woman safe as she labors.
After a final confrontation, the hunter finding the lovers hidden in the top of the tower, the prince finally kills the hunter. He helps the woman give birth, utterly relieved she's alright after such a hard delivery. He's terrified the woman will finally consider him truly a beast after witnessing such violence, but she instead confesses her love for him and says she wants to stay, breaking the curse on the family of royals and allowing them to regain control over their shifting. He promises to be there for her and their children, whatever it takes, and the two take their rightful place to rebuild a forgotten kingdom and grow their new family.
*If you're interested in RPing this or have similar ideas, DM me. :) I'm a literate paragraph/novella style writer. I only write as a carrier, but I'm open to nearly any gender pairing (f/m, nb/m, nb/f, f/f, nb/nb, just not m/m as I prefer to write female and nonbinary characters. Would prefer if your character had the ability to breed mine (no matter the gender, I love queer and trans pairings). Also open to a/b/o aspects in this prompt, me writing for the carrier/omega. Characters must be of age and 20+, preferably around their mid to late twenties. Feel free to drop me any questions! ^^
#poinsettia's rp prompts#poinsettia's rambles#birth rp#labor roleplay#birth roleplay#labor rp#I'M DOING IT FELLAS; I'M POSTING MY PROMPTS
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Hello! I’ve been stalking your page for the past few days and wanted to formally request an enemies to lover wildcard prompt (where after a fight both the character and reader are horny 😎 battlesexuals) for the characters: tartaglia, kazuha, itto, scaramouche, zhongli, diluc, kaeya, & xiao please and thank you! 💜💜💜
MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT
[enemies to lovers trope]
most to least likely to be horny after a battle ft. tartaglia, kazuha, itto, scaramouche, zhongli, diluc, kaeya, xiao
warnings: afab!reader, mentions of blood, mentions of killing yaknow typical enemies stuff, dub-con, rough sex all around, unprotected sex, degradation kink for scara, dacryphilia for scara&kaeya, oral (m!receiving) for kaeya, strangling for diluc, monsterfucking for zhongli u can thank me later, some fluff here and there,
a/n: bestie u really went all out with the list of characters huh, u trying to make a suffer here? /j
1. tartaglia 2. scaramouche 3. itto 4. kaeya 5. diluc 6. zhongli 7. kazuha 8. xiao
you’re only one of the many enemies childe has but you can’t help but feel like you’re special to him. having sex with debris and various dangerous surfaces surrounding you probably isn’t the best idea but it’s become a weekly tradition at this point for you and the eleventh harbinger. the loud slapping of skin on skin fills the air along with the smell of sex and sweat. you taste blood on your tongue as your mouth meets his in a clashing of teeth, feeling his anger pouring from him as he holds onto your hips with a bruising grip, driving his cockhead deep inside, burying it in your cervix with each hard thrust.
scaramouche isn’t the most confrontational of opponents, preferring to stay a safe distance away as he delivers harsh blows with his powers. but the same cannot be said post-battle as the harbinger gets down and dirty with you. his delicate fingers trace the outline of your folds as his voice lowers, breath hot on your ear as he disguises his scathing remarks as sensual teases. your tears stream down your cheeks as you beg for him to satiate the desire coiling in your belly, abandoning your dignity. his answering grin only serves to fuel you on as he obliges, but not without reminding you of your place first.
when you think you might’ve gotten the upper hand against this bumbling idiot, he always manages to prove you wrong. itto has you pinned down on the grass as he pounds away, using your body like you’re nothing but a cum dumpster for him. your mouth hangs open, too fucked out to even cry for him to slow down as he pumps yet another load into your overflowing cunt. as he slips out of your sopping heat, itto manages a laugh as he eyes the dazed look on your face. “you should’ve known better than to do that baby.”
the cavalry captain shows no mercy to those that threaten the peace of his home. kaeya makes sure to shut you up by stuffing his cock into your mouth, fingers tangling in your hair as he groans at the feeling of your tongue swirling around the tip. “don’t you think you’re enjoying this too much for a criminal receiving their punishment?” he muses, wiping off your tears with his thumb. you moan around his length in response, gagging as kaeya suddenly thrusts forward, his heavy balls smacking your chin. “looks like i’ve been too gentle,” he says to himself, bringing his tear-stained thumb to his lips, deliberately licking it for you to see.
diluc isn’t sure how he’s ended up like this. a while ago he was trying to kill you and now that he has you, under him and his hands around your neck, his cock throbs his pants. clearly, his body didn’t get the message that you’re an enemy. “what’s wrong? too much of a coward to finish the job?” you taunt as a trail of blood drips from your mouth. diluc doesn’t reply but the grip he has on your neck loosens and you’re left to wonder if he has other plans. “don’t.” the warning slips from your mouth as diluc begins to move off of you. “finish what you came here to do.” you close your eyes, expecting your swift end but instead you’re struck to the core as you feel his soft lips on yours.
it’s not wise to mess with a god but you’ve never been one to shy away from danger anyways. that is until you feel regret bubbling in your chest as zhongli transforms into the true form of the geo archon. “are you scared?” his voice rumbles deep as you stare at his giant dragon form towering over you as a pair of amber eyes fixates on you. “a-as if!” your voice trembles as you speak but you remain standing even as he winds his long tail around your body. he sniffs once, twice, and a third time before growling lowly, the sound ripping through the air and sending birds up into the sky. there’s nary a sound as he slithers closer, snout pressed against your belly as his forked tongue peeks out to press over your clothes. “you’re aroused,” the dragon, zhongli, states simply. your cheeks flame with embarrassment as zhongli chuckles lowly, “do you prefer me in this form? though i cannot guarantee that it will… fit.” hell, you’d make it fit.
despite all that he’s been through, kazuha is merciful. he helps you up even after you’ve tried to drive your sword through him multiple times. though this time, it is likely the last you’ll ever see of him. “don’t come back,” you hiss as he sets you down on a flat rock. “i’ll kill you the next time i see your face again!” but will you? he knows you’ve held back in the countless fights you’ve had with him. “or you can come find me,” he quietly adds on, ignoring the offended glare you send his way. “i would never do such a thing,” you retort, but still accept the bandages he hands to you. yet before he leaves for good, you find yourself reaching out to him, hands gripped tight around the fabric of his shirt. it’s almost natural how he falls with you, hands quickly shrugging off his clothes as his lips finds yours in a heated kiss full of desperation. you don’t even complain as he slides into you without warning, hips moving back and forth as he rocks into your tight heat, feeling your walls clenching down on him. that night, he leaves inazuma but not without you at his side.
you’re no stranger to the black flames that follow xiao wherever he goes. but this time, maybe you’ve gone a little too far with your little game as xiao finally snaps. the black tendrils lick as his ankles as he approaches you with slow deliberate steps, golden eyes glinting like a predator fixated on its prey. you stand rooted to the ground as every single cell in your body screams for you to run. but as you squeeze your eyes shut praying that someone would come save you, you feel the weight of his body collapse on you as he pants in your ear. “get… out of here,” he grunts. you can see it in his eyes that he didn’t mean to scare you and that he’s holding himself back lest he ends your life with his own two hands. “why are you still here? go!” but despite his warnings you stubbornly stay. “what can i do to make you feel better?” your question is answered as xiao reaches out to grab a fistful of your hair, yanking it back to expose your throat to him. his lips are feverishly hot on your skin as he leaves wet open-mouthed kisses, teeth lightly scraping your skin. “if you don’t leave right now, i won’t hold back,” he warns you again but you’ve already made up your mind as you spread your legs for him.
#genshin impact smut#diluc smut#kaeya smut#zhongli smut#xiao smut#childe smut#itto smut#kazuha smut#tartaglia smut#[❣] — 100 event#[💫] — genshin smut
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About hbo destiel.. At what point does monsterfucker dean stop seeing castiel as just another ‘monster’ to fuck mixed with pushing the limits on how much he can (sometimes literally) fuck with heaven half because he has a death wish half because he hates all concepts of a ‘greater power’. At what point does he start seeing castiel as cas, as something more.
At what point does cas stop seeing dean as just another way to rebel against heaven and stop using the excuse of his curious fascination with humanity as a whole. At what point does cas start seeing the human as dean, as something more.
Try as he might, Dean had not been able to reach the angel in the dirty trench coat.
It fucked with him a little. Like he was off his game, y’know? How many times had he managed to vent his own self-hatred through angry sex with a monster? How many times had he proved to himself that only a monster could even want him?
And yet, if he was honest, Castiel was in a different category entirely. A monster, yes-- well. Maybe.
But an angel?
That meant something else, didn’t it? It was no longer about anger and hatred and proof of the unclean. This was something holy.
If the angel wanted him, then it couldn’t be about hunger. It couldn’t be about conquest. It wasn’t primal or hateful or dirty.
And so Dean played his little games. He would tease, he would dance about the angel, trying desperately to reveal the monstrosity of heaven so he could fall back into his old habits. He would get rough, knowing that this meant nothing to a being so high and holy, yet hoping that Castiel would lash out at him. He would keep himself close. He would be rebellious.
Castiel would eventually either fuck him or kill him, and, frankly, either would work.
But Cas never did.
Oh, he showed his monstrosity. Dean saw things no mortal should see--such violence, such eldritch horror beyond imagining--but never once did Castiel point it towards Dean.
There were little things. A smack of the wrist here, a shove on the chest there. Little reminders that Dean should keep his distance, that playing this game with an angel was unwise at best and a request for death at worst.
But Dean kept on.
And so did Cas.
It’s hard to pinpoint the moment when the dynamic changed. Maybe there wasn’t a single moment, but rather many moments that all snowballed together. Maybe… maybe it was just one long moment, especially to an angel. One long inhale. One blink in the grand scheme of the universe.
But one morning, while Dean was getting dressed, Castiel made coffee.
He did it without asking, and he did it without help. He used the little coffee pot in the motel room when he probably could have conjured some up in his hand with no trouble at all.
Dean pulled his shirt down over his head and watched silently as Cas measured out each scoop of grounds. “Are you making coffee?”
Castiel did not pause. “Yes.”
Dean ambled towards the angel. “Why? You don’t drink coffee.”
“But you do,” Castiel pointed out. “I’ve watched you do it many times, now.”
Dean squinted. “And?”
Cas clicked the basket into its housing. “And you always make coffee on mornings when you’re awake before seven. And when there’s a greater than fifty percent chance of rain. And when it’s less than sixty-five degrees.”
“I… do?”
“Yes.” Castiel pressed the button to begin the brewing process, then turned to look at Dean. “Were you not doing it on purpose?”
The coffee pot began to whir.
Dean blinked. “I don’t think I could if I tried.”
“It’s part of your routine,” Cas said.
“And you know my routine?”
“Yes,” Castiel cocked his head. “Of course I do.”
Dean folded his arms over his chest. “Oh, yeah?” He turned and leaned back against the side table which held the coffee pot. “What else do I do?”
Castiel squinted. His thoughtful squint, Dean noted.
“You use too much pressure when you put the key in the ignition, but too little when you start it,” Cas said.
Dean smirked. He nodded for Castiel to continue.
Cas held his chin up, ever so slightly. “You like cotton t-shirts. And cheeseburgers, especially with pickles,” he continued. “You read in the evening. It takes you about two weeks to finish a book, and you always leave notes in the margins for whoever reads it next.”
He paused here.
The coffee maker rumbled along, water dripping steadily into the pot below.
Dean crossed one foot over the other. He did not break eye contact with the angel, even as the morning sun passed behind his head, shooting yellow streaks of light in every direction.
“Well?” Dean coughed. “I’m listenin’. There’s gotta be more.”
Castiel pouted slightly, and his gaze drifted from Dean’s face to his arm. He took a small breath. “Your tattoos.”
He stopped there.
“Yeah?” Dean prompted. “What about ‘em?”
Cas sighed, almost in frustration. “You hate them.”
Dean’s hands seized, and he gripped his own arms quite tightly.
Cas looked back up at Dean’s face. “You get tattoos to take ownership,” he explained, “but never to improve. You want to ruin yourself.”
Though Dean did not move, the tattoo sleeves on his arms seemed to swim in his peripheral.
The coffee maker spluttered to a halt.
Dean chuckled unconvincingly. “N-no,” he said. “That’s not true.”
“It is,” Cas replied.
“I get tattoos because I’m a grown fuckin’ man,” Dean said.
“You get tattoos because you wish to mark your body as yours,” Cas explained. He moved in towards the coffee pot, and began to pour some into a paper cup. “And not from nothing. You’re taking it back from your father.”
Castiel continued to dress the coffee--a little bit of sugar, a little bit of milk, just how Dean liked it--without looking up. As if he hadn’t just psychoanalyzed Dean with incredible accuracy.
Dean scoffed and shook his head. “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”
He pushed off the table, intending to end the conversation there.
Castiel caught his arm.
Dean turned, opened his mouth to speak, and was stopped when Cas put a cup of coffee into his hand.
“I do, actually,” Cas said. “You might say that taking one’s body back from their father is an angelic rite of passage.”
From where Dean stood, with the morning sun rising behind him, he may have looked quite angelic.
Castiel tilted his chin upwards. “It can be about more than just your father,” he said. “It should be about you.”
If Dean was honest, the only tattoo he really loved was the handprint on his shoulder.
#sorry for answering this ask with a 1k oneshot instead of like. normally#or maybe not idk#destiel#hbo spn#hbospn#dean winchester#castiel#flash fic#fanfic
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Various Monster Jazz Forms (click for clarity)
TW: disturbing content, body horror, blood
Notes about Jazz’s designs down below :3
1) Skeletal Jazz
+ Inspired by the various legends of female creatures with animal bodies and human faces.
+ Her face and hands are meant to be human looking, but the rest of her is meant to be skeletal and creepy. Her neck is 3 feet tall, so she’s around 8 feet tall when she’s down on all 6’s, but around 12 feet tall when she stands on her hind legs. Yes, she does walk on her human hands.
+ I imagine that she would lean over Jason and hold his shoulders with her hands, but if you looked further into the darkness, the rest of her inhuman body would lay there covered in shadows. She’s rather friendly.
+ I like the design of a long neck in monsters bc something about a head swinging like a pendulum is creepy. She has six limbs like a bug and has a beautiful, but bloody face to complete the look.
2) Long Jazz
+ Inspired by Slenderman and similar tall supernatural beings, but also inspired by the 5th chapter of the Jingai x Omegaverse BL anthology :9
+ Just creepy, long, and quiet. She is faceless, but there is a large empty hole replacing her mouth.
+ Around 9 feet tall.
+ Surprisingly willing to stay home and just quietly stand in the corner to wait for Jason to come back. If she gets bored, she haunts and follows him around until he comes back home with her.
3) Dark Jazz
+ Murderous
+ Most of her face is covered in shadow.
+ Surprisingly normal, but you’ll never get to see her face. She also carries weapons on her, ready at any moment’s notice to grab a weapon and use it.
+ She follows Jason around but you can’t tell if she likes him or hates him because she never stops staring at him from the shadows.
4) Laughing Jazz
+ Too much teeth. Her wolf ears come with a set of a tail and digitigrade legs.
+ Inspired somewhat by the fox from Goose Mountain, but also a lot of My Little Pony infection AUs.
+ Her hair is noticeably brighter than what I usually put for her (I like her to have red hair, not orange), but I think it matches bc the brightness is creepy alongside the smile.
+ Her eyes are sunken in and never blink… her neck isn’t normal either…
5) Chimera Jazz
+ Inspired by Falin Touden’s chimera form from Dungeon Meshi. Highly recommend reading it!!
+ Has 3 sets of claws, one on each foot and then her hands. She is around 15 feet tall.
+ Is a mixture of wolf, bird, and eyeballs. The eyeballs can see throughout her body, but are generally invulnerable. Her only weakness would be her chest (with the eyeball) and stomach.
+ Extremely hostile and extremely protective. I think she’d have the instincts of an animal but would understand what people would say. She has the personality of a hissy cat.
#dc x dp#dp x dc#danny phantom x dc#jazz fenton#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc#dcxdp#jason todd#anger manangement ship#anger management ship#anger management#hardcover ship#jason x jazz#jazz x jason#liminal jazz#tw body horror#tw blo0d#tw creepy#body horrow cw#tall jazz#tall jazz is the best#jason is a monster fucker if it’s jazz is all I’m saying#anger management monsterfucker
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Subject of Sin - Part 1.
Incubus Shigaraki x Nun reader; NSFW
Warnings: noncon, dubcon, somnophilia, possessive behavior, desecration of religion, monsterfucking.
Word count: 2,520
A/N: A huge thank you to @shigamothki-vs-the-lamp for beta’ing and inspiring me to finish this fic!
Your innocent forays into temptation and sin catch the attention of a demon.
Part 1| Part 2
“He sleeps inside my soul
And sometimes wakes up in the night
And plays with my dreams.”
— Fernando Pessoa
Demons lurk within our minds, not in the crevices of forgotten places. If the darkness ebbs and flows, it is merely a reflection of our innermost desires — a manifestation of sin that refuses to be held at bay any longer.
You kept Father’s teachings close to heart and steadfastly studied the scripture. It was the only hope you had to cling to, having been hidden away at a monastery since childhood. Life was kind and peaceful, and you spent your days deep in prayer and tending to the ill and destitute alongside your sisters.
And yet, one way or another, something began to stir within you. It crept up on you throughout the years in the form of innocent temptations — a yearning to explore the local village for just a while longer, exhilaration after allowing a baker to slip a sweet roll into your satchel as thanks for helping his daughter, despite knowing you were not allowed to accept gifts from others, unrecognizable melancholy as you stared out into the sea of rolling hills on a crisp autumn day and admired the endless blue sky — so many little temptations that doused the bright flames of your spirituality and allowed the darkness to spread.
It was difficult to notice the change. Even when you found yourself restless and cursing the pain shooting up your knees as you knelt before a pew, you quelled your inner conflict with prayer and fasting. But adulthood brought about new challenges. The cracks within your restless spirit had spread like ivy and primed you for your first mistake.
Your day started like any other. Winter ensnared the grounds of the monastery in blankets of glimmering snow and stinging winds that proved difficult to overcome. The villagers were kind enough to send provisions to the monastery, ferried up the winding hills of gnarled oaks by a gentleman who you had seen many times. He was handsome and friendly, his inky windswept hair plastered across his forehead and cheeks nearly as red as his eyes. Father had the pleasure of speaking to him more often than not, but you still attempted to catch a glimpse of the man under the pretense of unloading the cart. Your heart always stirred at the sight of his warm smile.
You should not have entertained your silly whimsies. You should not have gone to bed with impure thoughts after a hasty Hail Mary, staring into the flames of the hearth as you huddled beneath your blanket and slipped a hand between your quivering thighs, watching the glowing red and orange hues of burning cracks within the firewood and remembering those beautiful eyes. The experience was so humiliating that you hurried out of bed in the dead of night and ran straight to the church, letting the sharp pain of cold snow against your bare feet guide you ever further towards your only chance of salvation.
The imposing silence of the church did little to soothe your nerves. Towering walls of barren stone and creaking wooden pillars surrounded you, devoid of hospitality in the dead of night. You took a few meek steps towards the altar. Unable to meet the solemn gaze of your savior, you scurried off to find Father’s private quarters instead. Your loud knocking had clearly startled the man into wakefulness. The poor priest looked just as frazzled as you felt, and you made sure to apologize profusely for your rude behavior as you dragged him to the confessional with tears streaming down your face.
Father had been so deathly silent while you told him about your infatuation with the villager that you were certain he would scold you good and proper. But no, he had been as compassionate as he always was, offering words of comfort and forgiveness.
That should have been the end of it. You did not see the villager for days after your shameful act. The mundane tasks of everyday life kept you busy. So busy, in fact, that you managed to work yourself to the brink of exhaustion one day, and you fell asleep in the alcove of the library like some kind of child.
You did not remember dreaming. Consciousness trailed on the edge of a feeling that stirred you from slumber — a barely-there touch brushing along your bottom lip, followed by a short puff of cold air that fanned across your face and startled you awake. The candle beside you innocently flickered and waved in greeting, and the shadows around you mockingly mirrored its dance.
This game of ethereal cat and mouse continued for weeks. Every so often you would feel lingering sensations trailing along your face whenever you let your mind wander, growing only bolder once you removed your constricting habit within the sanctity of your bedroom. With your hair freed from its confines as you brushed through the soft strands, sometimes you imagined a hand trailing after the brush with each downstroke. It reminded you of how your Mother Superior combed her fingers through your hair to prevent tangled knots from hurting you.
All of this, you could attribute to your imagination … until the sharp divide between fiction and reality steadily grew muddled.
A particularly strange encounter occurred one evening. You opened your small window and pensively stared out into the snowy landscape, a singular thought daring to escape your wicked mouth, where none but God could listen to your act of rebellion.
“I want to be out there,” you had whispered solemnly.
A breeze rolled through in answer, and you marveled at how the air caressed your cheeks and smoothed unruly strands of hair away from your face.
It had felt so tender and comforting. You froze in shock for only a moment before something spurred you to hurriedly close the window and hide yourself in bed.
If only it had been that easy — the following night proved to be more tempting than the last. You were woken up by a tingling sensation on your lips, and a new feeling altogether.
Something firmly cupped your breast through your nightgown. Or could it simply be your blanket tightened around you from thrashing in your sleep?
Your nipple hardened into a stiff peak, begging to be played with. You kept your eyes firmly shut and blushed at your wanton display, modesty briefly overtaking your lustful urges. Yet try as you might, you could not resist bringing your fingers ever downward. Your nightgown had ridden up to your hips, and as the blanket caressed the sensitized skin of your inner thighs and tightened around your breast, you buried your face in your pillow and gently eased a finger through your slick folds.
Your efforts were clumsy and inexperienced. It was utterly frustrating, your hips canting upward to try to find the right angle and failing miserably at it. Your brows furrowed in anger and concentration, and in your delirious frenzy to reach your peak, you found yourself arching your back into that strange grasp on your breast. A gentle swipe along your hardened nipple elicited a breathy gasp, and the feeling of fingers carding through the hair at your temple made you whimper and tilt your head in search for more.
Something slid along the back of your hand and coaxed it into a new position. Your mouth opened in a wordless cry as you finally hit a perfect spot deep within you. The tingling sensation tickled your lips again, and for some odd reason, you felt compelled to stick your tongue out just a little bit, your breath hitching as something soft and warm glided along the wet muscle.
It should have knocked all sense back into you. It nearly did, if not for your cunt pulsing around your fingers as you moaned and chased the aftershocks of heady pleasure with each roll of your hips. Liquid exhaustion flooded your body, urging you to slump back in relaxation. You had just enough energy to carefully remove your sticky hand from beneath your sheet and lay it on the edge of the bed before sleep overtook you. In the morning, you would find your fingers mysteriously clean.
You kept that night a secret. Overcome with shame and disgust, you could not bring yourself to admit to Father that you had broken your vows once again and strayed from his guidance.
“None will know, and therefore it never happened,” you angrily muttered to yourself as you strutted through the snowy grounds of the garden and tightened your wool cloak around you for warmth. “My sanctity is worth more than my foolish pleasure.” A stray rock caused you to nearly trip, and you had to suck in a deep breath to keep yourself from losing your calm.
The more you distanced yourself from the truth, the more you were drawn into the darkness. You kept your secrets safely guarded, playing the part of a devout sister while your aching loneliness was soothed by the balm of an unseen force that played with your senses.
Sometimes you imagined a glimmer of shifting light at the edge of your periphery, but you dared not look. Not ever. The gentle caresses were more than enough to satiate your desires.
Or so you told yourself.
A winter storm was in full effect tonight. Not a soul dared to prance around the cold corridors, which meant you had no chance of being interrupted by a wayward young initiate or an unruly sister with a penchant for late-night gossiping. You were freshly washed and warmed by the fire, your unbound hair fanned out across your pillow and your nightgown scandalously discarded over the back of your chair.
For the first time in your life, you did not bend the knee to pray before rest. Your heart thudded loudly in your chest as you stared at the golden cross hammered above your doorway, its edges aglow from the light of the fireplace.
“God forgive me,” you quietly uttered, and closed your eyes to banish the cross from your sight.
For a while, all you could hear was the sound of howling wind and crackling fire. You were half-tempted to begin all by yourself, but you had learned to be patient. Your visitor always made itself known when you were tethering on the precipice of sleep. Perhaps the delirium that followed exhaustion played tricks on you. Perhaps that had been the culprit all along.
Either way, you wanted it.
And so you let yourself slip free from anticipation and restlessness, the tension in your muscles dissipating as your breathing gradually slowed and you could no longer hear the wind or fire. All you knew was peace. All you perceived was stillness.
It was quiet. Far too quiet. Something felt different tonight.
You were overcome by the sensation of falling, and your body jerked lightly in response. It roused you from the precipice of slumber, and in your hazy confusion, you had enough common sense to keep your eyes closed. Ever so patient, you waited for what would come next, despite the goosebumps forming on your skin that had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with the feeling of being watched.
A light weight pressed down onto your chest, as though a kitten had curled up there. You focused on your breathing and parted your lips, allowing your soft sighs to slip through. It always liked when you did that. Your mouth tingled a bit. You slowly licked along your bottom lip, and the weight on your chest became incrementally heavier.
A pulse of wetness gushed out of your cunt in anticipation. You rubbed your thighs together for friction and accidentally bunched your bedsheet at your feet, making it slither down your body to expose your breasts. The cold air caused your nipples to harden, and an even colder puff tickled one nipple before an altogether unique sensation followed — soft and textured, like a velvet ribbon, gliding around the stiff bud and ending its journey with a teasing flick.
You moaned quietly as you gripped the sheets beneath you. This time, something sighed against your mouth, trailing along your tongue and all the way to the back of your throat. Before you could make sense of the new experience, a firmer pressure settled over your lips, far more solid and real than any tantalizing tingle had ever felt.
You were delirious with need. Completely and utterly lost to your impulses, and you hadn’t even touched yourself yet.
Something was kissing you, and you were too far gone to consider the implications. Nevermind that you were in a compromising situation and forsaking your vows to the Lord.
Right now, all that mattered was how rough that touch felt against your lips, how slowly it guided your mouth into a deep kiss that smothered your whimpers and gently sucked at your lips with a lewd wet sound. Velvet glided along your tongue, twining like a serpent and licking every crevice of your mouth. It was overpowering, toe-curling, intoxicating. You were swept away by the myriad of sensations, moaning as your nipple was twisted and pinched, and the hair at your temple was lovingly, tenderly brushed through.
Familiar. You knew that touch. You craved it, and you wanted more. No one had ever made you feel like this before. No one ever would, not within these sacred halls.
What if —
What if you dared to look? Just this once, what if you stepped out from the protective embrace of your religion and just …
As though reading your mind, the firm pressure on your mouth disappeared. You opened your eyes, and forgot to breathe.
God help you.
Scarlet eyes. Redder than blood, oh so familiar in their beauty, yet entirely devoid of life. They burned like hellfire, slashed through by slitted pupils that honed in on you with an unyielding stare.
And the skin. You had never seen anything like it on a living creature, this sickly gray shade among numerous cracks and scars that marred the entity’s torso and face. Your gaze trailed over the strange markings around those serpentine eyes, your stomach churning uneasily as your worst suspicions were confirmed — the striated grooves winded and merged into the graceful arch of a pair of horns that curled back into sharp tapered ends.
You were consorting with a demon.
He looked corrupted, as though his very essence carved its demonic aura into his flesh. In a moment of bewildered hysteria, you honed in on the scars etched into his face, briefly noting that he had a mole just below the corner of his mouth, of all things —
The demon readjusted his position, comfortably resting his weight on top of you as his arms caged your head and his hands cradled your face. His fingers carded through your hair in a mockery of affection, and he smiled at you, all sharp teeth and cracked lips.
You wanted to throw him off of you. You wanted to kick and scream and beg the Lord for forgiveness and protection.
You were frozen in place instead.
#shigaraki tomura#shigaraki x reader#shigaraki/reader#shigaraki tomura/reader#shigaraki tomura x reader#tw: noncon#tw: dubcon#tw: somnophilia
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Venom Fic Recs, Part Eight
Part 1 – Part 2 – Part 3 – Part 4 – Part 5 – Part 6 -- Part 7
getting a little bit harder to sort the wheat from the chaff but I am finding the good good monsterfucking for YOU, gentle readers
Wrapped Up Tight, by zade
It was sad that he was sitting at home masturbating instead of trying to find a club or cruise for a hookup or successfully manage to ever actually get his ass to the Folsom Street Fair. Eddie pulled up the video he had been watching—some twink wrapped up in a latex sleepsack, struggling and moaning as his partner off screen messed with the vibrators in his ass and nestled under his balls. Eddie gripped his cock again, watching the boy shake, and imagined being wrapped up like that; held together so tight; unable to move or think or do anything but like there and suffer and he—
This what you like, Eddie?
Red As The First, by R_Gunns
He watched, fascinated, as the thick press of the symbiote’s tongue forced Eddie’s mouth open wide, stretching and pushing the inside of his cheeks, and when Eddie tilted his head toward the light just right – Dan could see the flicker of it inside his throat too, an alien simulation of deepthroating, something that Eddie seemed to be both experienced and good at.
Dan doesn't get it. And then: he does.
Need Somebody, by AnAngryRat
Eddie buys a new motorcycle on a whim. Things just go down hill from there.
Alternative title: Two Gays Argue About Getting A Cat and Sex
Axiom, by an_aphorism
Romance isn't dead, Eddie is just slow to figure it out.
Little Things, by ShadowoftheLamp
Eddie realizes that even when they aren't Venom, his body isn't exactly the same as it was before.
Your heart is mine, by cardia_storia
Venom has Eddie's heart. In the literal sense as well as any other.
Hungry, by FestiveFerret
Eddie worried about sleep at first, but it seemed Venom slept too, or least powered down enough to let Eddie drift off. Eddie slept plenty with Venom on board - more even, than he had before. But sleep was still where things got weird.
Because of the dreams.
you are precisely (my cup of tea), by escherzo
Early in a relationship, there's always a period of learning. Of feeling the other out, discovering the way they smile when they're trying to hold in a laugh, the way their body carries their anger, their passions, their old pains. Learning favorite pizza toppings. The way they take their coffee. The way they look first thing in the morning, sleepy sunrise lighting up the contours of their face. If they're a dog person, or a cat person, or neither. If they're close with their family or never call, or somewhere in between.
Eddie isn't sure why he thought it might be different with Venom, at first.
He's not sure when he started thinking of the two of them as a relationship, either.
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Various Jazz Forms: Jason Edition! (Click for clarity)
TW: disturbing content, body horror, blood
1) Fire Jason
+ He is a fire spirit, specifically one of hellfire. He also controls some aspects of healing, light, and life, and is the child of the Spirit King, making him quite powerful.
+ He is incredibly powerful but also very reckless and foolhardy. He is the first to dive into battle and is not afraid of hurting himself in order to hurt the enemy. He is hot to the touch and can burn skin but can cool himself down if he wants.
+ He adores Jazz and when he met her, he almost immediately agreed to sign a spirit contract with her in order to be in her service. Thankfully, she is a good contractor and takes good care of him.
+ He is of his usual height, 6'3", but he can grow to larger sizes with enough fuel. As such, he can also shrink into a tiny flame when he is weak or tired. In order to gain more power, he needs fuel, which can be wood, gasoline, paper, or even Jazz’s bodily fluids like blood.
+ For some reason, I dressed him up like a man from the west in the 1800s, so he kinda has cowboy vibes. He also wears gold a lot.
2) AI Jason
+ Inspired by AM from "I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream." (I've never actually read it, but I've researched a little into it and got interested.)
+ His name was R.E.D., which stood for "Robotic Enemy Defenses." He was programmed to automatically detonate bombs and defend strongholds using programmed strategies through investigating and taking information from current and past history of wars.
+ He hates all humans. He was created with the intent of being a weapon for war, but after being abandoned by his creator after his role was finished, he was so enraged that he started another war and wiped out all humans in his universe. Nowadays, he pretends to be a harmless AI in another dimension after he created a program to send copies of himself to other worlds.
+ Jazz dotes on Jason a lot because she is unaware of his past. She gave him the name meaning "healer", unintentionally trying to reverse his original purpose. She thinks of him as a regular AI who gained consciousness.
+ The screen that holds him only contains a sprite of his body. The screen itself is only around 60" but the sprite itself is 10". He designed it himself, and although he is cute, he is 1000% willing to kill and torture.
3) Angel Jason
+ He is a seraphim, and has 3 pairs of wings because of it. One pair hides his face, another hides his feet, and the last is used to fly. Like all seraphim, he is colored red.
+ He protects Heaven and used to be a Throne, but was raised up a rank after he died in a fight to protect Heaven.
+ He is around 20 feet tall, including his wings.
+ Jazz is his favorite human. He has refrained from having children with her due to the fact that it is considered a sin, but if he did, their children would be the tallest, even amongst other nephilim.
+ He is apathetic to most things due to his angel status, but he is very partial to anything related to Jazz, often protecting her and healing her without being asked to. As such, there have been rumors in heaven that he will soon be cast out and become a fallen angel because of his emotional affair with her.
4) Snake Jason
+ Inspired by multiple infamous serpents from mythology and legends such as Jörmungandr, Apep, Python, and the Leviathan.
+ Because he is the embodiment of chaos and destruction, he is completely hated by most people who knows about him. As such, he is often killed and tortured whenever he encounters someone with weapons that can hurt him. He was born that way, but it doesn’t stop people from trying to vanquish him.
+ He has the ability to change his size, shapeshift into various forms, create natural disasters (such as storms, eclipses, droughts, earthquakes, etc), destroy celestial objects, consume souls, and is immortal. As such, he can be temporarily defeated, but never truly killed. However, this only causes him great pain.
+ He has apathy for humanity and any creature in general. However, Jazz once saved him and since then, he’s been encountering her reincarnations every time he comes back from the dead. He gained fondness for her because of her unwavering loyalty and protects her when he rampages against the world.
+ He is around 25,000 feet long and 3,000 feet wide in his regular form. Yes, he does have two of them. Iykyk :9
5) Monster Jason
+ Inspired by the Minotaur from Greek mythology.
+ He is the combination of a bull and a ram. I give him sheep motifs a lot bc not only is it cute and contrasts with Jazz's wolf motif, I consider him a sacrificial lamb, especially bc of his death that was chosen by the audience.
+ Half of his face is melting off because he was attacked after he met a human for the first time after he tried to sneak off and see the outside world. As such, he is extremely self conscious and lonely. After meeting Jazz who snuck inside the maze and didn't care about his appearance, he is extremely attached and possessive of her.
+ He is around 8 feet tall. Jazz adores how tall he is and likes looking up at him. Likewise, he also finally enjoys one thing about himself when she is cradled underneath him.
+ Jason used to be kept hidden for his own protection by Bruce, but after he left home and was captured, he was imprisoned in a labyrinth by another person. Afterwards, he was kept in the labyrinth to be hunted for sport in order to take his valuable horns. He believes that his family has abandoned him, but they’re actually trying to find him.
#dc x dp#dp x dc#jazz fenton#danny phantom x dc#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc#dcxdp#jason todd#anger management ship#anger management#hardcover ship#jason x jazz#tw body horror#body horrow cw#tw blo0d#cw blood#now it’s jazz’s turn to be the monsterfucker >:)#this post is a distraction for my recent AO3 fic lmaooo#anger management monsterfucker
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