-> RED markers mean that the post is not safe to read for some age groups (generally you need to be 18 or up, so MDNI)
-> If the name of a series is in BLUE, then it's still ongoing and I will update it.
-> For requests or questions in general, please check this post here >>LINKY<< for the rules and dos and don'ts.
Thank you ~k0k0
Fandoms:
Obey me! SWD ::
.✦ ݁˖ Angst, angst what a holy way to die (Lucifer x Reader)
.✦ ݁˖Something sweet served in all-colour (Mammon x Reader)
.✦ ݁˖They love me... They love me not (Leviathan x Reader)
.✦ ݁˖Judgement day (Satan x Reader)
.✦ ݁˖Until death do us part. Cemetery date (Lucifer x Reader)
.✦ ݁˖Let the crows hit the floor (Lucifer x Reader)
.✦ ݁˖The Guardian (Simeon x Reader)
Transformers ::
.✦ ݁˖It’s a big universe, but my love for you is bigger than that (Optimus Prime x Reader)
.✦ ݁˖ Slow sex and Old tapes (Sentinel Prime x Reader)
.✦ ݁˖Old Cybertronians Need Love Too (Sentinel Prime x Reader)
.✦ ݁˖Wind never blows in the heart (Bumblebee x Reader)
.✦ ݁˖Embedded Codes
Ben 10 ::
.✦ ݁˖An Ocean full of Fish and I Chose an Alien Squid!
-> part 1
-> part 2
𑄝 Typewriter
.✦ ݁˖ When Earth began to breathe - prologue
.✦ ݁˖ The Earth is breathing - chapter 1
.✦ ݁˖The Moon Stopped Spinning - chapter 2
.✦ ݁˖And the Moon fell - chapter 3
-> part 1
-> part 2
.✦ ݁˖The monster's in the bed, not underneath it - chapter 4
𑄝 Safe (finished series)
.✦ ݁˖I cannot blame you, my lady, for I am but a sinner
.✦ ݁˖I'll keep you safe for the rest of my life, my love!
MOTM ::
.✦ ݁˖Please don't bite
.✦ ݁˖Blue ink suits you best!
.✦ ݁˖Drag up, farm boy!
.✦ ݁˖My, your eyes do shine like the stars...
.✦ ݁˖Lick. It. Up.
.✦ ݁˖One salted caramel war, please!
.✦ ݁˖A breath of fresh air
Genshin ::
.✦ ݁˖ Your love? Our love, comrade! (Il Capitano x Reader)
.✦ ݁˖ I lost my love. Can I have yours, Comrade? (Tartaglia x Reader)
.✦ ݁˖ But summer never came...
.✦ ݁˖ Snowy nights cronicles
Miscellaneous:
(TO BE ADDED)
Other Links ::
-> Ao3 - Koko_Fish -- LINKY
-> Secondary blog: cannolli-the-cats-bakery -- LINKY
-> Discord server for CANNOLLI THE CAT’S BAKERY (game project) -- LINKY
|Fandom: MOTM (@myth-of-the-machine) — I am now starving for more Shelly
||Pairing: Cupshell (MOTM! Cuphead x MOTM! Shelly)
|||Rating: teen and up / 18+ ish
|Warnings: minimal body horror, bl00d and g0re to a minimal degree but we need to because I like making my ships sink before they turn into submarines instead of sailing,
|| This is completely self indulgent, my otp, my sweeties, my shmuggle dugger razzle dazzle honey pop children. :)
Once the gang stepped into Garden View, all the worries, all the horrors of what happened seemed to suddenly disappear for only a moment. Bendy recalled the times he sneaked here with Dandicus after their shows and steal little kisses while Joey was searching for them. Boris looked at the intriguing designs all over the place with floating gardens and mid-air waterfalls that seemed out of a movie. Shelly and her trauma response team were home; breathing in the fresh airt of the plants around them. Only the cup brothers were reluctant; not once in their life something so beautiful lasted long. All good things come to an end at some point.
Sprout, very impatiently tried to yank Cuphead’s body further from the group and dispose of it accordingly, since it was a corpse. By all medical terms, Cuphead was dead, finito, basta, asta la vista; but like hell would Mugman let some rotten strawberry man ever think of something like that. “Hands off my brother before I personally turn you into a smoothy for the searchers outside the gate.” That was enough of a threat to make the young man back away.
“Sheesh... what’s wrong with you lot?”
“I’ll tell you what’s wrong with them,” Dandy answered half mouthed, clearly forcing himself to look at his ex-stage-partner there “They turned my Dyle into a fucking monster, because someone cannot think for once about anyone other than themselves!”
While the others continued to bicker, at the high pitched barks of Pebble, Shelly’s eyes wondered at the four people they just saved, her breath coming to a halt seeing the spirit of the cup collector going into the disfigured body, possessing it, controlling it in some twisted kind of way. A puppet whose strings were cut off mid performance had more grace falling than what Cuphead was trying to call walking on his own or even talking. Even with no eyes, and a missing 3 quarters of his head, the man somehow turned to the fossil, like he knew what she was thinking about; that she was looking in disgust at him.
“R-ruhhhhghh-” He groaned and tried to take a step forward, being stopped by his own brother. Cuphead allowed his spirit to slip out for a moment to talk normally. “Betrayal! This is betrayal from my own Glaze and porcelain!” The mug just scoffed, bonking him in the back, since he didn’t had a head anymore, scolding him about freaking people out with his ungodly look. “ughh mmman” The older brother groaned out while he seeped into his body again.
Freaky things always happen around Garden View. After all, this was the biggest medical bay in all of the main isles and closest to Toon Town that could handle searchers and bloat cases. Shelly has seen her fair share of horrible things happening here: from degloving of children by their own parents who were desperate to stop the bloat from infecting their youth, to people having attacks right when they seemed they were getting better and the fake ink injections seemed to work, only to melt at her feet like some useless pile of ice-cream. If ice-cream could cream in agony while their faces melted off into a myriad of bubbles, skin and ink boiling into the air-
“I’m sorry about my brother, Miss. He does tend to be very oblivious to social queues.” Mugman tried to reassure the poor woman who looked like she was shell shocked only from seeing the cup trying to for words normally. She shook her head, forcing a small smile “Oh, no need. I am Shelly. You can drop the ‘Miss’ part, we are friends here.”
Yes, friends... there are a demon and a wolf who might want to tell you a small story about these two, miss Fossilian. One is a total suicidal lunatic who got what he asked for and the other is a two-timing bitch that will give out meds then maim you into the ground. They were anything but friends, yet no one said anything because they were all just saved from the very angry twisted dark ‘friend’ they just made. Speaking of which Astro still had a very hard time understanding ding who could’ve done such a thing to Doyle.what on earth happened that made the automaton clock turn… Into that thing.
But Mugman caught the idea quickly, the animosity of the B-Brothers mixed with the odd friendliness of the kind fossil that helped them was a weird thing. “And I know it is not my place to ask, but are you and your brother ceramic?”
“Porcelain, toots.” Cuphead chimed in dropping his lifeless body over his brother’s shoulder with zero curtesy, like it was something most normal to do. “Grandpa kettle made us from bone porcelain back in the day, but we do have some patches with random clay here and there.” He added in a meter of factory way, swooshing in the air around Shelly, drinking in her appearance. He hadn’t seen many toon quite like her. If he still had a heart, it would most definitely pick up the pace, beating in his chest like a wild motor from a runaway train.
Shelly stored that information deep in her mind, but not too deep to forget it easily. Maybe it will come in handy later. After all, despite being dead, the collector was also still alive. Most intriguing. This could help them revolutionize medicine as a whole: a connection so deep with the body that can turn the soul into something almost palpable, into life beyond death, so many people being brought back to life after meeting their painful demise. She wanted to learn more about it, eat it alive in the best way possible.
…………………………
Pebble’s surprisingly soft paws hit the concrete layer outside of the research area; e hadn’t been allowed inside after a small incident with some DIP canisters being mistake for wet canned dog food. Let’s say Vee and Spout spent 2 ours pumping out his little belly of all the DIP before I could do any damage to his little tummy. But why was he outside the research area, walking in circles and circles and- it was because his best friend, Shelly, was inside, studying some old books about toons those if she could find something about toons who could live outside their bodies.
Suddenly, the soft pittle-pattle of the paws came to an abrupt stop and Pebble let out a confused whimper. “No, no… go ahead to sleep, boy. I’m good…” Fossilian reassured the small rock, thinking he was just tired from waiting for her to finish with her reading for the night. But that wasn’t really the case, as she very soon felt a chilled gust of wind filling the rom and a particularly colder one right behind her. “Brr…” she stood up, chair scrapping against the tile floor, in order to go close the windows, or the door. When she turned around, though she was nose to beheaded corpse with Cuphead. “Grrrroo-…” he groaned earning a terrified shriek from poor Shelly, phasing his spirit enough to replace his head at the moment “ what’cha doing, toots?” He asked like he hadn’t just scared the poor woman senseless.
She took in a shaky breath, sighed out calming herself. He was just a man, not some scary killer, right? She’s seen much worse than this, so why was she acting so jumpy round the cup, she couldn’t tell. “Oh, just researching something, don’t worry-” He cut her off, with a rather rude shove, his gaze running down the papers.
“You monsters-”
“I-I can explain-” she shouted, trying to explain her reasoning behind all of this. The Ink Machine, Cuphead’s ability to ‘live’ as a ghost; all this could’ve saved many, could’ve saved Toodles and Fin. She was panicking, of course she was, trying to hide the books she found, not that they were of any help.she found nothing on he ability to live with nobody of ink, not a damaged one not just-
Seeing the distress on her face, Cuphead laughed almost toppling over. To him, it was funny tormenting people. “Relax, Shelby! I can’t even read,” he explained through avid laughs “you could tell me you’re reading a cake recipe and I’d still believe you.” The collector gave a very heartfelt laugh, getting more into her personal space. “But I’m actually curious. What’cha cooking, good looking?”
“G-goo... what-” Shelly ignored the fact he didn’t got her name right, she ignored the fact he was let in a very high security area with zero checks; but she did fluster at the compliment. She eventually came back around after a very cold hand came to cup her face, then dragged across it. “Aaaaaand the moment is gone,” that made the cup laugh again “but I’m trying to find anything on your condition. How you can just-” the shell gestures vaguely at his whole-body muttering something incoherent.
She sighed, looking back at all the text she found until now, unable to find even the slightest little link to what the cup brothers were experiencing. It was a lost cause, and maybe it had to do with a demon being here – though it was very classist to think all demons were like that. Why didn’t she ask the people who could know exactly what was going on, she didn’t know. Maybe she was hiding behind fake courtesy. Shelly sat down at her desk, in defeat, with zero progress made in the past 3 hours.
“Why are you alive?”
“Well.. it all started when two pieces of china loved each other very much-” hearing the stupid child-friendly talk, Fossilian wanted to slam her head against the still opened book, but a cold hand softened her hit, the palm gently recoiling and upping her forehead. “Sorry, sorry…” Cuphead muttered with a bit of remorse at his own bad joke. It was a horrible idea to tell these people the secret society, the heritage him and Mugman had, but on the other hand they did help them despite all odds.
He remembered the way Shelly came in his life, all action and sparkles, breaking into the train and helping them all out. And, for the record, if he was not spent as a sprite back then he would’ve saved his little lady instead of letting the mutt do it. His lady? He certainly loved the sound of that. “Ill tel ya, don’t worry about it, sugar.”
The two brothers were gasping for air, running for their lives across the Inkwell Isles; four feet, four eyes, two straws made a beeline for their home, for the safety of the forest and their grandfather. “Elder Kettle is going to kill us…”Mugman slumped against a tree as the reality of their wrongdoings finally settled in hand-in-hand with the fatigue and terror that Cuphead just sold both their souls to the literal devil.
“Mugs-”
“What. Were. You. Thinking!” The younger brother jumped him, pining him to the ground, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him violently. “We are as good as dead!”
Head hitting the ground, his first chip fell off. The first one he refused to ever get repaired because ‘it taught him a lesson’. “Grandpa is getting older mugs… the workshop ain’t doing well and- a-and money. Imagine what we could’ve done with it!” An early retirement for Kettle, a way for mugs to never worry about going to school anymore – affording it for as long as needed. Maybe even he could go, show his ‘prototypes’ and…
It was all wishful thinking from a kid that was too fucking stupid and dreamed way too much for hope in a world that always bit back and took triple the amount.
“Cuphead, I’m sorry- you dealt with the Devil?!”
“And that’s not even the good bit, Shelby-” “Shelly!” “Whatever.”
Finally when the two made it home by midday, having been amiss from home from the night prior, they saw their elder cane-in-hand, having waited all night out by the porch for them to return. When he saw his younger boys coming back running, he never imagined they done something so wrong and wished, he just thought they missed home. Elder Kettle gave a warm smile and opened his arms, he boys running right in them, hugging him as crying.
When the two finally calmed down enough to explain to him what happened, the kettle’sepression hardened. It was his fault. He took these youngsters into his care after their creation, hiding the truth, being too leaned back in their training…
“And then what?”
“And then he told us all about our lineage, the Calix Amini. A thousand of years old cast of the calixes, a spirituality that could mend and bend souls, change your being and revive.” He sighed, walking around the room and looking over the artefacts that were laying around on dusty shelves. “As long as we are a community, together we are unstoppable. Even two are enough.”
“You and your brother-” “exactly.”
He goes to explain the fact that they were descendants of those powers, soul that travelled from a dead bearer and split into two when one of the eldest potters alive made them. But there was a catch, they could use this magic of the soul as long as their calix was intact, as log as. They had somewhere for the soul to return to. ”And since my head is in smithereens, my soul has no place to return to.”
It was too much, way too much information for the poor fossil to take in; she didn’t know if the headache was for the countless night’s spent awake reading much to Astro’s dismay, or because of this rollercoaster of a story. To be obligated to deal with the devil because of a small mistake you made as a child, was getting to her heart. “A-And the pieces of your head, where are they? Did you manage to salvage them?” Cuphead nodded, clarifying that Mugman carried a bag in which he managed to get most of the pieces before they were attacked by searchers in the forest outside Toon Town.
Shelly got an idea, a very stupid and reckless idea, but an idea nevertheless. She had an old friend in her childhood, a flower vase, porcelain, who people would keep picking up on and throwing pebbles in. And Shelly, the cute little fossil she was learned basic pottery to help her and patch her up. The collector gave her a ton of information, and now she felt indebted to him for this. “I think I can help you, Cuphead.”
“You can’t even begin to understand how much I wanna smooch ya now, toots!” But looking at the maced face, would still sputtering and pulsing under roughened crystallised blood and grime of the day, the fleshy, dry tongue still there, giving small jolts in muscle memory; the shell narrowed her eyes and passed it for another time. Now, they needed to convince mugman of their newfound plan.
Shelly walked to the main quarters, Cuphead trailing behind her, legs slumping on the ground, Pebble behind him, wagging his tail and yapping at every butterfly that visited Sprouts new-planted begonias around the paths. “Uhh, what room was your brother staying in again?” she asked confused again, but the confusion cleared when she bumped into someone smoking at the corner of the quarter’s building.
“Cuphead, I can explain-”
“... get that crap out of your mouth before I slap you into the river you were made from.”
Mugman sighed, extinguishing the cigarette and tossing it aside somewhere on the wet, freshly rained soil of a cabbage garden. Why cabbage- I don't know, do people ask you if you stir your stir-fried rice from left to right or from right to left as well?! “Why are you two strolling around? Aren't you supposed to be with that strawberry head?”
“Well I’m sorry, but I am not his fucking science project!” He muttered before sinking in again and groaning in annoyance.
The woman picked up her companion from the ground, opened her eyes wide and put on her best begging voice ever. “May I please see your brother’s pieces? I know pottery!” She added the last part very fast as she already saw the way Mugman’s browa furrowed and he was ready to refuse her. “I will take care, please...”
“Doll, it’s not that we don’t know how to, but-”
Cuphead started mocking him, making chicken sounds, or what he wanted to sound like chicken sounds. He always knew that got him to give in. As children, as teens, and even now, to his worst, mugman agreed, leading the two in the room he was put in. The bag containing the pieces of his brothers head was placed on the nightstand like some kind of sick twisted memorabilia. The younger brother just pointed at it and waited for the short fossil to grab it and go before he changed his mind.
Shelly blinked once, twice, then quickly went in and grabbed the bag, running into the horizon with a limping, beheaded body after her. The view was.... horrifying to say the least, but the collector couldn’t deny that he felt a bit heartwarming seeing his brother might get well soon.
.........................
Once back in the research area, Shelly softly placed the bag on the main table, some big rounded wood stub actually, that she often used when restoring old artefacts and scripts. She was known as a very patient person, and despite what many may say about stubby hands, those little things were very dexterous when working with old things. “we’ve got this. First I just need to dry match them into the shape of a cup...” she trailed off, gently unpacking the pieces and placing them on the table, sorting them on size, curvature, and trying to map out the skeleton.
“Put that the other way, toots-” Cuphead not-go-gracefully placed a hand on hers and guided it when Shelly got confused, making the woman’s face heat up slightly and make her wonder even more how would he feel like with warm, alive hands instead of that frigid and dull porcelain. The soft growl of Pebbles woke her up from the minimal daydreaming; her companion having brought her some adhesive he saw her using other times. “Hey, what’s got you so stress, Sheldon?”
She sighed, lightly smacking his arm. “Shelly… and maybe I’m worried. Teegan was way better at this than me.”
“Tee-gain… toots, comes on. Me and my brother lived in a fucking workshop, our Kettle repaired us so many times you’d think we would at least grasp the basics of keeping ourselves together.” He explained trailing along-
Like that one time we fought agains some devil-powered flower and his roots shoot up from the ground, took us by surprise and mugman got ripped in half with those jacking roots ripping and shattering porcelain- One got in his eye socket and pulled an eye out.
“Oh man, I had to parry him to live so fast dude-” Cuphead laughed, but the laugh did nothing more than to worry the poor fossil even more. Just how much damage could these cups get before they really kick the bucket. “But of course, I had o kill him myself first, because somehow he was still alive. Ha-! The look on your face just now toots. Priceless.”
“You’re laughing… at your brother being hurt?!”
“Oh please… when we were fighting this… Stagepay or whatever her name was, the stage collapsed on me and he did the same. Though he was using some bullets that didn’t really work too good and it took more than a shot-”
Shelly’s stomach turned upside down and she was already feeling sick. She really wanted to shut him up, but how does one make a ghost shut up in the first place. “W-well, gruesome details out of the way, wait... Stageplay. You and your brother really are the collectors!” The cup chuckled at that, amazed by how very idiotic the girl was in moments like this.
“yes... that’s the whole fucking idea, toots.”
With steady hands, despite the very unpleasant tales of the past Cuphead reminiscent of, Shelly managed to put his head back together as much as possible getting the fact some bits were completely shattered and couldn’t be repaired. What the two haven't realised was the time that passed since first entering the room. It was now well past midnight, the sky as dark as possible. Darker than any joke either of them could think of.
“Damn, i really did keep you occupied all day, didn’t I hon-,” when he turned to her, Fossilian was already asleep, her head on her arms; arms that were resting on the table as a makeshift pillow. “ney....” he smiled at the view, before mentally slapping himself and covering her with his coat so she wouldn’t be cold, he himself settling his body prepped against a wall.
Cuphead made sure he could still look at her from his position, settling in more in his severed body, soul blinking slowly once, twice; falling asleep looking at the one person who took her time to repair him, to listen to him...
Maybe to love him.
Can we possibly get a part 2 to the blueink one? Or another blue ink, idk. I love the ship but I can never find anything on it😭
MDNI :: Caramel in coffee? Jesus you’re odd
>>>> Part 2 of One salted caramel war, please
>>>> Part 1 here <<<<
|Fandom: MOTM (fry and nort are the coolest and I absolutely fucking love their work I am obsessed)
||Pairing: Blueink (Bendy x Mugman)
|||Rating: 18+
|Warnings: mild vi0lence used as a way to express love, biting (lots of it), p0rn without plot because the plot has been eaten by Pebbles and now two gay men fuck.
||Thank you again for your patience, nonnie. Yours and other’s. I am one very procrastinating little thing~ But I’d lie if I said I wasn’t a sucker for bratty, bossy Bendy. He’s such a diva, such an icon. Walk them like a dog, Bendy! — k0k0
Sleep came to a halt when Boris and Cuphead were woken up by a very playful, active Pebble who did not know what sleep was. A toy on batteries was way less active and charged than this little guy; but it wasn’t his fault, he was just used to having a lot of things to do and being this boring and waiting for people to return with something to chow down was not on his tiny bucket list. Speaking of two certain someone’s...
No one knew where their brothers, respectively companions, were and it was already getting late. Mickey was pushing more onto the trial, like that could help anyone, Dandy was currently having a mental breakdown on the phone with Shelly since he found out she too could be called for trial. After all, she did help the runaways who stole the map get away from death; what were people expecting? That she would leave anyone to get hurt? Not on her watch, never in a thousand years.
“Those two really be taking their sweet time” Cuphead talked to Pebble, baiting the small puppy into playing fetch with a random sock. “My brother never takes this long to round up the city,” he continued, the concern something might’ve happened to them slowly gnawing at the pit of his astral guts. “dang i-”
“Shut up already,” the wolf protested, tired and clearly annoyed by the collector’s rant to a small puppy. “Even pebble can’t take it anymore, and he’s a rock” Shelly overheard him and gasped, muttering some excuse to Dandy so she could end the call.
“No one calls my sweet boy a rock, you mutt-”
The two men gulped in unison, clearly noticing the very angry fossil in front of them. This... was going to be a very long night.
......................................
He punctuated his words with another tug on the chain that was now around the taller man’s neck; Bendy was back in control. “And I never liked it when my dogs bark at me~” He leaned up and caught Mugman’s lips in a rough possessive kiss before he gave himself a little impulse and rolled themselves over so he was now on top, straddling the mug’s hips. “Now what was that about hating me. Darling?”
“N-nothing…” Mugman’s hands moved purely on instinct and grabbed his hips tightly. “Nothing at all, love~”
“Oh? Now you’re trying to sweettalk your way out of this situation? But I’m not stupid, you see-” He leaned down and kissed him on the lips. The ink-filled taste of his lips invaded the collector’s mind, making him curse in his mind, coiling back at the feeling. If you ever thought how would eating a page where ink was smeared; just let Bendy kiss you- no... actually it’s way worse. The demon noticed the frown, but didn’t stop yet instead his tongue gliding over the other’s lips.
At that, Mugman couldn’t take it anymore and managed to pull away, tilting his head to the side and spitting on the ground, spitting him out of his mouth, before looking back at Bendy with the most disrespectful look ever. “You disgusting pe- omph-” he felt another tug at his neck, the cuff slightly tighter around his throat. “Fine... maybe I was pretending, but let’s be honest, chum. You really are insane if you think I was really calling you love~”
Bendy's tail trashed slightly behind him, clearly not enchanted with the bitter words thrown at him. But could he really blame the mug for feeling that way; he knew very clearly people do not want to taste that while kissing. It’s a curse really, “You are one very loud snake, you know that, hon?” There wasn’t really any bite to his words, only the grim realisation that he was right. However much he wanted to show the other man how wrong he was for thinking and feeling that way, Bendy was smarter than to let down yet another partner.
The demon loosened his grip on the chain, something Mugman caught onto very fast, taking his slight weakness to his advantage, pushing him off him with an unwelcoming foot. He huffed in annoyance at the clear way this blotted man managed to get under his porcelain. He whipped his mouth with his sleeve and spat on the ground; the implication very clear: ‘you disgust me’.
Manners was something that back in the day distinguished the two twins, but Mugman would be lying if he said he ever held any respect for someone other than their grandfather after making their first deal with the devil… maybe the Cat’s owners but to a minimal degree. He missed the old workshop in the forest, the slight hustle and bustle of the shop area while he was in the back with Cuphead grinding small colourful pebbles and stones to make coloured glaze for the net batch of- he snapped quickly back to reality.
Those times were such a distant memory, the dusty smell inside the kiln was only something a child clung to when he missed home. Nowadays, that child is long gone, and the hitman that was still on the ground was not recalling memories, but distant echos from another time, another line. Maybe there is a world in which they defeated the devil and everything settled down; or better yet, there is a world in which they never made tha deal and they would never leave the workshop.
“Come on, Mug-in… the others might be waiting for us. You don’t wanna see Boris when he’s hungry believe me-”
Mugman remembered now where this all started – the bakery was trashed and searched by the STARS and Nolli might be.. no, he didn’t want to go down that path again. He cannot afford to fight the demon again. Another kiss and he might actually throw up all his breakfast. That stupid inky taste-
“Come on, mugssey! How bad can it taste?” A very young and clearly curious Cuphead boasted from the back of the workshop holding a small bowl of the paint they just grinned up from some lavender they picked up earlier the morning. Mugman remembers that very early. It was mid-evening, the shop closing down and Elder Kettle wrapping everything up for the night so he and the boys could go back in the hut right next to the workshop and finally eat after a day full of events. “Come on! I bet you 10 coins you can’t take a spoonful of blue die!” Mugman laughed and gently punched his brother’s arm before grabbing a mixing spoon and dipping it into the foggy mixture. The paint hadn’t fully decantered yet; it needed to be let out to set overnight with the other tints. But the two children tried it anyways-
Bitter, inky, dusty with a rough texture of small bloom buds still stuck into the paint- “oh, fuck me!” He cursed himself; the taste of that pain was the same taste on Bendy’s lips. The same taste he dreaded so much was the taste of his childhood, of being scolded later that night by Elder Kettle for eating literal pain for a bet, of one of the fondest memories he had ever made with his family. “Com’ere…” something deep in his gut was telling him this was a mistake and he will regret it. After all he never “I’m sorry…” apologised for anything in his entire life.
“And I’d do it again, grandpa!”
That cheerful tone was gone, the childish defiance that made him sit in a corner for an hour before dinner to think about what he’d done and said no longer there; in their stead, a tired very tired man that just wanted everything to end already. His eyes were sunken in from all the shots he wasted in the forest trying to avange something he himself created.
Bendy sighed, a hand trailing rougher than intended from his forehead to his eyes, fingers rubbing in the small black orbs before slowly dragging down and falling to his side again. “You porcelain freaks are bipolar or some shit? One moment you shoot at us, the other you’re helping us. One moment you cal me love, the other you say it disgusts you.” It was true, and bendy was very much entitled to be confused? Angry? Most likely confused and tired, truth be told.
“I’m sorry-”
“Stop it. I can’t pretend to be mad at you when you are apologising to me, you freak…”
Well that went better than expected for the first time he’s ever done this. Should he joke? Most definitely. “You know, demon? This is my first time-”, Bendy flustered up immediately, blabbering about nonesense as his tail coiled around himself, the darker hue in his cheeks a giveaway that he was very affected by the mugs words. “Please be gentle on me, it’s the first time-”, mugman snickered “-apologizing to someone” at that moment he got kicked in the shin, hard. But he kept laughing like a mischievous child
“Oh my god, I hate you, you overgrown silverware freak!” He covered his face with his arms in shame of thinking something lewed about it from the get go. The collector had played him once again- “Ok fine that was awesome-sauce. You got me good.” The tension in his shoulders slowly died down as the two got closer again.
“So uhhh…” the mug started again awkwardly “I’m not kidding tough; I never really apologized before for anything. Not my style. Usually Cuphead is the sentimental one that does the kissing-in-ass.”
“OH you wished you kissed my ass.”
True- wait no, not true. Mugman scolded himself mentally; the last thing any of them needed now was to act on the instincts of two pent up idiots that kissed in the back of a dark alley. ”man~ I’m tired…. You do know how to rough around, why don’t ou punch more often. You have brawn.” True again, Mugman was built quite strongly, the small scrawny kid was fast and could run away from any fight. But the now adult made sure the fights ended in his favour. “And I’m not trying to sugar coat, buddy. Yer stacked.”
“That sounded gay-” he barked back at him like they didn’t just kissed a few minutes ago. He wrapped and arm around the demon’s shoulders and pulled him closer to his side, feigning being into it. “But if this is your call to be fey-” that earned a sharp punch in the face from the shorter man. He coiled slightly with a grunt. The little shit got fangs, then mugs will bite back twice as hard. He returned the favour, tugging his tail, earning a yelp from him.
Bendy jumped back, his back resting on the rough wall of the building behind him, rubbing the joining space between his tail and small of the back vigorously with his hands. That was a cheap shot, and everyone knew that. There are a few rules when browling, much to the surprise of many: ever rug the tail, never use claws on the eyes. Cheap shots could go wrong, and unless it’s a life or death situation… “cunt!” He roared out, luging back at his neck. The two stumbled back and fell no the ground.
“Ain’t it dedga-who?” Bendy laughed at the poor excuse of an idiom and anchored his claws in the collector’s shoulders, sinking past the fabric of his shirt. “It’s deja-vu, already seen- ah!” He jumped slightly feeling one of Mugman’s hardened by battle hands grope his derrière very nonchalantly. For someone who claimed he hated the poor tailed fella, he sure wasn’t acting on it. But there’s a good explanation for it, because Mugman hates replays. If there is something he learned during his fights is that he hated replaying the same segment over and over.what’s life without some spice.
“Mind the hands, mug-in” hands? Well he doesn’t need to be told twice. His other hand grabbed the wagging (omg it shows he spent his childhood with a mutt as family) tail more gently now, letting it coil around his fingers; the grasp on his ass tightening a little bit. The closeness made the mug smell that same inky reek again, but this time it wasn’t repulsing. The taste- ‘how bad can it be?’. Not that bad; yes he ended up with purple insides for a week, but the bittersweet taste of watery colour with every bite and morsel he had that week… call him a fool for chasing that same feeling again.
He leaned in, kissing the demon, this time not pulling away for dis- no. If he was honest with himself it wasn’t even disgust the first time, he was just afraid. Why? Of the past, most likely. But now, he wasn’t scared and he was going to change the ending to this did’ja moo or whatever Bendy called it. It was a soft chaste kiss on the mouth, nothing wild like before, only something sweet that would ease the two into his plans.
“You are a jerk.” The short demon said plainly as they pulled away from each other. “But like hell if I would let you have all the fun to yourself, baby.” He leaned into another kiss, deeper, more personal as his tail coiled tighter around his hand; like some kind of reassurance that he was his at least for now if not forever. Mugman hated how good it made him feel, how much closer to home he felt doing this; the distant echo’s right here, in front of him. Well, on him, but you catch the memo.
“What can I say about that, sugar? I might be a jerk but at least I don’t go round strutting a tail stuck on an ass that can make even priests sin” he then yanked on the tail again, softer than before but still making sure it would sting a little bit. The demon gasped and grabbed the mug by the handle inching his face closer, “Don’t play with it-“
“Or what? You’ll get hard?~” Mugman teased, already having noticed the small predicament the demon was in way before he did. Bendy was so focused on the collector that he didn’t realise how much this little querel had affected him. There now are two choices the two can make, and both went with the same thought. “Even if we’re in public… may I?” He asked in a mocking gentlemanly way as his hands moved from the demon’s ass to the front, one pressing to feel in the growing bulge in his pants.
This was risky, too risky. They were running form trial, they were in public in a small alley where anyone can come into and see them being all depraved together; this could worsen their current situation so much more, what a wonderful thing is to add public indecency and maybe others to the already long list of allegations in their name… Shelly would have their head that’s for sure. Living in the moment, although, seemed much more thrilling and interesting at the moment. Plus, who wouldn’t get personal and into their enemy’s pants if they had the fucking chance.
They kissed again as Bendy’s very impatient hands roamed Mugman’s torso finally finding the hem of his pants and managing to untuck the shirt. His hands rested low as his tail made it’s way under said untucked shirt, earning a soft silent moan from this collector, then it turned whinier. “Well, well… seems the big bad hitman is all bite and whine,” the tip of his tail dug into mug’s side making him gasp out to strengthen his hypothesis “but who am I if not a sucker for that voice of yours, baby?” He cooed, dragging the tip of his tail against the skin, clearly enjoying the now flustered collector that was in the same predicament as he was. At least now he wasn’t the only one who was hard at the moment.
“Uhh shut up and do something about it already," muguman whimpered again, bucking his hips up on instincts to feel at least the tiniest bit of friction for his aching groin. “You absolute tease…” bendy was indeed a tease, always been. It was part of that unmistakeable charm of his that made people swoon over him when he was a bit younger.
“None of that,” the demon let himself slide off in between Mugman’s legs, hoisting his legs over his shoulders seeing the impatient man already undo his trousers. “Someone really is impatient…” he trailed off with not heat behind the words, especially looking up at that blushing boiling head of his, sunken eyes hidden now by a thick dusting of red. Bendy would be a big fat liar if he said he wasn’t affected by the meek display in front of him. He tugged off Mugman’s trousers and underwear enough to let his shaft out, the tip angry red from all the ministrations he already had gave the poor mug.
To put him out of his misery, Bendy decided to be a good man and hive him a hand... job. “Oh my Calix, j-just do it, gods!” he doesn’t need to be told twice, firmly stroking his dick, allowing his wrist to do a small circular motion on the tip to earn an even needier moan from the collector. Mugman bucked his hips slightly into the demon’s hand, whimpering.
“Not so rough and tough now are we, mister Hitman?” Bendy cooed and picked up the speed before stopping suddenly with his hand resting at the base of the mug’s precum leaking cock. Before Mugman could ever even think of protesting, he leaned down and gave a filthy teasing lick.
“Mnn~ you- ahh” he couldn’t even form words good anymore, the time he was all pent up without anyone to spent his little steamy nights with making him absolutely weak at the touched of the little devil. He grabbed the back of Bendy’s head, still trying to somehow gain control over him and oush him into sucking him deeper. Bendy muffled a groan, steadying his breathing not to choke on it because god damn was this man well endowed. Whatever divine force altered him during puberty, may it live long. Amen-
Mugman gasped at the slick, wet tongue teasing the underside of his cock with each up and down, bucking his hips up and finally fucking into the others mouth. “Like that, toots. J-j-ahh-uust like that, baby~” His voice was raspy, barely contained not to moan like a virgin because God was that demon good at giving head. It wasn’t long till the well-known, filling sensation made it’s way in the collector’s lower stomach, and he knew it wouldn’t take much longer till he reached his limit. “Bendy-uh... oh gods toots, I ain’t lasting long-”
Bendy didn’t stop, why would he when he was so, so close to having what he was waiting for and worked for. What? You think flaunting your tail at the big bad killer mug is easy? He needs his reward after all. Oh and if came in sweet, citrusy scented- citrus... He wasn’t complaining, about the taste, not at all. (Fresh lemonade, freshly squeezed- Billy... put it in a mug).
“You taste sweet, baby,” the demon muttered out shifting to sit back in Mugman’s lap, liking his lips.
The poor man was panting for air, trying to come down from his high. “Mnn yeah? So what, you greedy bustard?” He gently, too gently, whipped the corner of Bendy’s mouth with a thumb before moving the finger to his own mouth and licking it. “Should I-”
“Get dressed before anyone finds us and we have more trouble? Yes. But since when do we do anything,” he unbuckled his belt and undid his pants “lawfully...” he purred lifting his hips up enough for him to pull his pants down enough for his little devious plan. If Mugman was still questioning himself if he was smitten or not, this was the moment, because the look in his eyes said it all. Many would say that was just lust and anger pent up together for a long time, but oh how wrong they were; his eyes wondered low only from curiosity, only because it happened, not because he actively wanted to, his hands touched only because he didn’t know how to tell the demon he loved him, because he didn’t knew either at first. And by the Celestials did he love him...
“I’m all yers, angel” he whispered pulling Bendy into a soft kiss, letting his arms wrap around him tighter. He wanted to hold him as close as possible, he didn’t want to lose him, lose the new home he found in him. The collector was breathless, going into some overly sweet rain of smooches everywhere he could place them, so much so that he didn’t even realise when Bendy grabbed his hips and hoisted them up to easier position himself where he was most sensitive.
“Call me angel again, I fucking loved that.” The demon groaned, pushing two fingers by the mug’s mouth; which he gladly took in and licked them, lubing them up. “Uh-huh. Just like that, baby. Yer gonna be a good boy fer me...” he took his fingers out and put them down, teasing his hole, Mugman moaning already and bucking his hips up.
“Pleasee, please Bendy..” Muttering an inaudible curse under his breath, and pushing a finger in, feeling the warm muscle clench around it. “p-pleasee” he whimpered again and let his head drop back slightly, the liquid within as less as it was sloshing around as he tried to move for more friction. “Gosh, baby. Did anyone tell you how fucking beautiful you are?” Bendy pushed a second finger in, slowly working him open “Or were they too busy fucking you?”
“A-are you-.. Uhh stop teasing me!” Mugman whines, his face, if the demon didn't knew any better was white, would think red was his actual porcelain colour. He was a tease, yes, but everyone knew and loved that about him.
After making sure he was prepped enough, he pulled his fingers away, grabbing his hip again and sinking into another kiss to muffle the protest caused by the lack of something inside. “Shh... stop whining, I got you-” He slowly pushed his hips forward letting a moan feeling the head of his dick kissed and hugged by Mugman’s ass. “Oh heavens, baby! Yer still so tight.”
Halfway in, he set on a slow, soft pace just to make sure he wasn’t overstimulating the poor fella under him. Pleas of ‘harder’ or ‘deeper’ fell on deaf ears for a long time, as the demon was set on having his way, enjoying the collector for as long as he could, for as long as the night allowed them. “No, babe.. We play by my rules tonight, did you forget?”
“Oh my gods, you are evil!”
“Fine, you big baby~” Bendy picked up the pace, but not enough to be called even remotely rough. He was going easy on him (on both of them), that was for sure, yet somehow he was almost out of breath. “Oh fuck, yer so good for me, Mug-in.. S-so fucking good, baby.”
It wasn’t long till both of them were moaning out like cats in heat in the middle of spring, causing some random person in the apartment block to curse them out and throw an empty pot near them. Did that stop them? Nope; if anything that only made Bendy want to make sure the mother fucker heard how good he is fucking the collector in the backalley. “Come on, pretty thing. Let’s giv’em the show they want.” and not long after the two spilled out their loads, crying out for the other.
Mugman was a total shuddering mess, holding the demon close, as close as he could while the warmth seeping into him calmed his needs. “I love you...”
“Love you too, honey-pie.”
…………………………………
They got the address where the others found refuge, carrying in a small bag of groceries from the 24-hours nonstop they found down the same street only to be met by cazemata of pillow and blankets with the couch being turned over and used as a skeleton for the fortress of doom. At the very top, stood Shelly, with eye liner on like war paint, holding Pebble above her head.
“All hail your supreme leader Pebble the Pebble!”
“All hail!!!” Cuphead and Boris chanted after her, bowing and saluting at the foot of the terror fortress. Mugman leaned closer to the demon “next time… we send her for supplies…”
“Agreed-”
“BOW BEFORE YOUR ETERNAL KING, PEBLE!”
And on queue, Pebble barked once, twice, then growled seeing his new subjects did not listen to his knight; then Bendy and Mugman joined in the little game and bowed respectfully.
“Your Pebbleness~” “Long live thyne Pebble!!!”
ohkay okay ive read a few of your fics and honestly just wanna say i luv them so much!! shakes you violently but anyway okay so you have a few motm fanfics and i wanted to ask bendystraw with a choking k!nk/breath play👀👀 please. I don’t want anything specific just.. breath play, either of them can be the one getting the short end of the stick induno I’m SO sorry if you’re not comfortable with this and I’m so sorry for the long ask
MDNI :: A Breath of Fresh Air
|Fandom: MOTM
||Pairing: Bendystaw (Bendy x Cuphead)
|||Rating: 18+
|Waarnings: cuphead is/was a suicid@l bitch, c0cking, kink, improper use of bendy’s tail, oral sex, p0rn w/ or w/o plot, no plot, but pot, smoker x drunk, they are gay, your honour!
||while being shaken violently Ello nonnie!! Thank you for your kind words <3. Don’worry, I am no shy woman on chocking— my 2020 corpse era is sill there I fear — but I digress, hope you liked it, made it as spicy as I could. Thank you for the wait~ Glittery kisses – k0k0
“GOOOOOOODDDDDD EVENING ladies and gentlemen, toonies and toons and welcome to tonight’s special edition of your favourite talk show Roll he Dice, with yours truly the king of sin, manager of the damned-”
Cuphead pulled the plug on the television, absolutely tired of hearing that overly-excited voice of the Devil’s Casino former manager. That game night show or whatever the others talked about was absolutely an eyesore, ear sore, all-your-limbs-sore. The collector sighed and went to the minibar in the room, grabbed a barely cold beer can and popped it. Open. It was rarely when Cuphead indulged into a drink or two when on a mission; he usually lets the get tipsy and get a hit t a bar for after they finish, even if unsuccessful. But this was different, it wasn’t really his and Mugman’s mission, nonono. This was that damned demon’s and that mutt’s. And he was absolutely sick of it.
Yes, they helped put his head back together. And yes, they were good drinking chums usually and had funny stories to tell. Yet there wasn’t anything good Cuphead could say about their two new friends. “Dinking on the job? You’re supposed to rest, idiot… aren’t you dizzy?”
“Why would I be dizzy? Because I can barely walk as it is and my head huts like it’s been plastered of ether in desperation and-”the elder brother realised what he said and shut up. It was disrespectful to be picky after everyone worked their asses off to save him – Mugman went through a o as well. “Mugs I ain’t mean it like that-”
“Save it. I really don’t want to pick an argument with you at this hour. I’m going out with Shelly and Boris. You can go fuck yourself in the meantime.”
And suddenly the motel room felt very quiet so quiet in fact that Cuphead began to miss the sound of Dice’s voice on the TV. He started to stare at the wall, nursing on his beer like some child seconds away from a tantrum and using soda to ‘calm down’. The stale smell of the walls splattered with black mod in a corner, the buying yellow light from a lightbulb hanging on its last transistor not to shatter and leave the room in darkness, the faint sound of knocking on the front door. If it wasn’t Mugman, he didn’t care to answer te door. And it wasn’t - because he would’ve taken the keys with him if he locked the door of course.
He finished his first can and went to go through the scrolls their newly aquainted friend Shelly provided about the Blot and the supposed Ink Machine. He made a stupid promise during the deal a promise that he could not keep: no harm come your way. But the harm was already inside of the demon; so how can he make sure n harm comes his way with this disease. If he knew, hewould’ve been more specific.
A sharp pain ran through his heart, through Cuphead’s soul, making him hunch slightly and grip harder on the scrolls. Another sharp knife slid between his ribs, cutting through the flesh and bone and beginning to tare into his soul. He fell to the grow with a loud thud, gasping for air like a madman. Usually, he was able to control the punishment of not upholding his deal; after all it was’t the first time. Yet, this was different, as making the deal directly in his astral form made it stronger, deeper, painful.
When pains like this rose in him, there was not much he could do – he was sharing the pain the demon felt from harm upon him. Sharing, a part, a mear fraction of what Bendy was going through and e was acting like a big baby. Cuphead needed a breath of fresh air, and quick. He readied himself, hodding onto the table for support as he finally managed to get up. “Fucking blot-” He felt a ratchet feeling deep not his gut, a scorching warmth that made his insides boil from within.
It took years, years to be able to get to the balcony of their room, the second he was outside and he felt the fresh air of the air (as fresh as noxe-filled air can be), Cuphead concentrated on his breathing trying to suck in as much air as possible. It wasn’t exactly soothing, but it helped him get another feeling rather than pain. He was sick of pain, he was so sick of it… it’s all he felt for a long while coupled up with guilt and-
“First time?” He heard a very familiar voice from the other side. Bendy was already climbing onto his balcony from his, using those demon reflexes to get in there. “Don’t worry smuggled Dip from the train. 1,5%. Not. As strong as you’re used. To-”
“I’m not diseased like you, demon! It’s because of the deal we made-”
An awkward moment of silence fell between the two men before Bendy crouched down and patted the space next to him. Reluctantly, Cuphead sat down completely. “It was selfish of me to not tell you the truth back in the forest, but you and your brother-” the cup cut down the demon raising his palm slightly and nodding, already understanding the situation. “Then let’s break it!”
Break it. Ha! That was a foolish thing to say, as a deal cannot be broken that easily. Either Bendy has to tare his soul out, or Cuphead needs to hurt Bendy himself… he knew how to do that safely, he’s done it before to himself numerous times when he tried to get some of the steam and grin of battle out of his system. Picking up this hitman job was also another way to get the adrenaline rush he needed.
“And you have any idea what that implies?!” He spat bac at Bendy, clearly posed off at their predicament. “Either you kill me or I kill you, short stack. There ain’t really a way around it.” There was a way around it but cuphead wouldn’t let himself tell him that. No, no.... he couldn’t trust himself with anything of the sorts.
“Well... we can still share some DIP in the meantime if you want to. I can see that you can’t take this anymore, going through it alone... that’s what hurts the most” Bendy added, still holding out the half empty bottle of DIP he had. He understood Cuphead, he understood that he couldn’t tell his own brother, he couldn’t worry him too much. He’s been there with his own brother, he’s gone through the same torment as the cup is facing now if not even worse. Hiding the first symptoms, hiding the pain, the whimpers during the night, the sunk in eyes and having to act all happy and merry in order to not give it away to people that you’re sick.
Because once you are sick, you will never be treated the same ever again.
“People are complicated, each have their poison-”
“DIP ain’t poison, shit-head!”
Cuphead laughed at that. Of course, it wasn’t poison. It was medicine masked as poison, how can he ever forget that. “Yeah, it ain’t. It totally does not make you vomit your guts out-” He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and his lighter, pulled one out and plopped it in his mouth. “Ya don’t mind right? With Mugman around, I can barely catch any kind of smoke around here.” When the demon shook his head slightly, He lit it up and took a long drag. “Now that’s a breath of fresh air, toots...”
Bendy snickered, popping open the lid and taking a swig. “Yeah? You reek of cigs from 7 blocks away!”
“Started young. Pops never let me smoke though, he was against it. But when he fell asleep in his chair, i took his pipe from him and tried it.”
The memory was bitter sweet in a way, Bendy understood that; he couldn’t empathize with it though as he never really had those sweet moments with his family... well he couldn’t call the nuns a family but there was one that always snuck a doughnut or two to him after punishments so he can cry with something sweet in his mouth. It did soothe the pain away at that moment, but once the sweetness was gone, there was only the pain left to help him fall asleep.
Pain is viewed by many as something terrifying. Not for Bendy. No, no, no. The demon was different in that aspect – he loved the pain, learned to accept it asa a friend and a confidante when everyone else couldn’t help him. As Cuphead took another drag of his cig, Bendy’s tail moved very slowly from the ground, up the collector’s back. He loved pain, slight one at the very least. So, if he likes it and he likes Cuphead; by normal, simple logic, Cuphead will like the pain. His tail coiled around his shoulders slightly, making Cuphead shivered at the alien feeling.
“Getting touchy, toots... huh, didn’t realise your tail is this fucking long.”
“And strong-”
“Wha- oi!”
Bendy's tail snapped closer to his neck until he was firmly gripping the cup’s neck. Tighter and tighter, Bendy’s tail began to inflict pain to Cuphead. Pain... but pain that made your heart flutter, that type of pressure that made your head spin. Oh and did Cuphead’s vision buzz up, He chuckled, the vibration running slightly the soft, black skin of the tail. “I like it toots~” He leans in closer, his eyes darker with an unknown desire “And I like you-”
Cuphead roughly captured the demon’s lips in a kiss, the tail still wrapped around his neck like a shackle, a remember that he was just a dog on a leash; and most dogs are nasty when they have such a catch in their fucking grasp. Bendy was surprised at first, but he couldn’t say he wasn’t hoping for it deep into his soul. He bit down on the collector’s slightly cold lips, the subtle taste of earth still on them.
He pulled away slightly only to look back up at him “Yer insane, Cuphead… so fucking insane, but I want it,” Bendy moved into his lap, pressing his hands on his chest, as Cuphead’s hands instinctively grabbed a hold of his hips. “I want it all~” The cold air hit the demon’s back, the gust of coldness going up together with his shirt. Maybe getting indecent on the balcony was not a good idea for the majority of people, but those two were not the majority of people. They had something special between them, a pact, a bind, a soul contract; they could feel the same as the other, yarn the same as the other and it was a beautiful thing.
The gentle quiet buzzing behind Cup’s eyes, that static in the back of his head didn’t left, as his breath hitched with every small jolt of Bendy’s tail, the pointy tip brushing against his collar bone after each time the grasp tightened… then eased back to allow him to suck in a shuddered breath—
Suddenly, the front door opened and Mugman came in the small room, seeing the door to the balcony opened, and his brother and the demon outside going at it. “Oh hell nah-” and grabbed what he forgot, quickly leaving before the two could see him.
“Mental note to self… kill the demon and the imbecil for public indecency”
…
“Did you hear anything?” Bendy let o completely of Cuphead, turning his head towards the door to look into the empty hotel room, trying to find something that wasn’t there. The rough, reassuring hand on his hip trailing down to the curse of his ass, greedily grabbing it snapped him back to what they were doing before. “Must be just my imagination, nerves for being in the arms f such a dangerous, murderous man~”
“Murderous? Toots, I swore off killing aimlessly when I as nine.” He placed small kisses on the other’s jaw, slowly making his way to his chest. He was careful, gentle; almost too gentle. Who would think a murderer, a bounty hunter would be so romantic with his partner? He pushed Bendy down on the ground, earning a small huff from him. “But I never swore off of fun with pretty little things like you” he gave a long filthy lick from the bottom of the demon’s neck all the way dow, just shy off the hem oh his pants, where he stopped and kissed again in that agonisingly good way.
“Will you just get to it, you absolute tease?!”Bendy protested, clearly frustrated and rightfully so. Before the collector could snark up another smart comment, he shoot his tail, wrapping it around his neck again, tight, rough, void of restraint. Cuphead felt lightheaded, air getting in and out harder. His lungs were gasping for air, as if he was a hay fever bustard stuck in a garden of blooming lilies; he let out a strangled moan, blood rushing in all the right directions- down- as he bowed his head down to get more of the pressure given to him.
“Are you some kind of pain slut…weirdo” but there was no I’ll tent or bite behind Bendy’s words, because he’d be a lier if he said e did not enjoy it; enjoyed having him wrapped around his little finger, his breath in his grasp. He eased the tail again, shifting under the cup to buck his hips up. The reality was very simple, my friend: they were both feeling the same need for each other. “But who am I to judge you, crackle~”
Between breathy kisses and and moans, they managed to slip off their clothes. Cuphead wrapped his hands under Bendy;s thighs, lifting one of his legs up to hook around his hip. “You can’t even guess how much I waited for this baby. Untouchable my ass-” he leaned over and bit his neck hard, bendy letting out a small whimper as he secured his arms round his neck. “M-meanie!”
“Oh? Not so tough now that you are not on top anymore, are we dancing little princes? But I wanna see you sing now~”
That coo, vicious and threatening to a degree, still could not prepare the poor man for what was coming for him. With no warning, no prep, no anything – the fucking animal – rawdogged his way into his entrance. He shut his eyes tight, head tilting back as a desperate moan ripped from his throat. “A-are you mental you- ohh you-”
Cuphead chuckled, arms moving to scoop the demon up slightly, “Lemme love ya, toots~” he didn’t waited long for him to get used to the feling, he didn’t had to. Rule no. 1 of how to please your demon: stroke his dick ego while you’re balls deep into him.
“Two can play that game-”
Rule no. 2, never let your guard down. Or do, but the outcome might vary on the demon.
Bendy clawed at the collectors back feeling that disrespectful roll of hips against his tat made him see blurry all over. “C-Cuphead-… y-you bustard!” He whimpered, his breath shallow; but don’t be fooled: he was bucking his hips back into the cup’s to feel him fully in. Hypocrite who?
Cuphead steamed up, the soul in his head bubbling up slightly at the warm tight muscle enveloping him like a vice. “You’re so fucking sexy baby”. His thrust got harder, crueler,,, the sound of skin on skin filling their eardrums, feeding their need for each other. Cuphead groaned, biting on Bendy’s shoulder to silence himself, moving a hand to clasp around the demons mouth. As much as he loved hearin his voice, the other patrons of the hotel might not be so keen hearing their lewedest moments.
Bendy muffled louder under his hand, breath hot against it and the collector could tel he was close. That, or he was projecting since he was so close himself. His thrust became more erratic, faster rather than hard as he chased his own release more than anything in the moment. “Fuck, toots… oh god-” he shuddered burying himself to the hilt and spilling his semen into the demon, who already took care of the rest and coated both their midriffs in his own.
The collector slumped against his partner, tired, both panting like dogs. “Yer dangerous as hell toos”
“And… huff you love danger?”
Cuphead smirked, kissing his forehead in an oddly sweet gesture given what they just did. “Sometimes… but I sure fucking love you more, baby boy~” e noticed the tail trashing behind him at the pet name, and he had to remind himself to tease him more about it later.
(This is my first time doing a request so I'm not sure if I'm doing this right) Could you possibly do Blueink from motm? But make their dynamic enemies and lovers?? Like they hate each other but would make out and other stuff?(idk if that made sense) pls?
:: One Salted Caramel War, Please
|Fandom: MOTM
||Pairing: Blueink (Bendy x Mugman)
|||Rating: teen&up
|Warnings: violence, not mild baby, the protegonists are suffering because i chose for them to suffer deal with it, a lot of..... ehe~
|| Blueink seems to be a guilty pleasure of many of you, mine as well to be honest. Something about it is just... so damn intriguing, it pulls you into it and who doesn’t like doomed yaoi from time to time. Enjoy! -- k0k0
Many people try and stop being an absolute jackass when they find themselves being pinned to the ground in the back of a random pastry shop down town, being served not sweet cheese pie with a thick chocolate fudge on top, but something much, much more... peppery. Why do I say most? Well that is because Bendy was not really in the category previously mentioned; quite the contrary, he would always double down on his little street fights regardless if he had or hadn’t the upper hand.
Oh and tonight was not very different from those fights either. It started off differently, yes; no man tripped accidentally over his tail, no gall looked a bit too much over his buttocks which happened more times than he’d love to say when he used to perform with Dancifer, and most importantly, no one picked up on his little brother. Oh, the things Bendy would do for his little big good wolf could make a convicted felon ask for mercy, the words he’s shot at them would make the toughest of sailors blush and scurry away.
He was a demon after all.
But the night evening hadn’t seemed to start off in such a bad mood, not at all. The group was actually splitting in ToonTown and trying to find some grub to eat, or some place to rest before having to face off Mickey and the STARS in a fast forwarded direct trial for bringing two hazardous searchers in the bounds of the city and costing many civilian and STAR lives. He and Mugman were left alone to go and hunt down some very good discounts near the city’s more comertial avenues.
“I know this bakery downtown. It’s got good stuff and the lady there has end-of-the-day discounts.” The taller man said, shoving his hands in his pockets as the chilly, early spring air made him regret ever going outside instead of searching for a roof with Shelly and Pebble. “She might still have some good stuff there if we take a detour there.”
After the whole train incident thing, after seeing his brother physically mending with the train, Mugman was oddly nice to Bendy. Too nice, for someone who hated the demon’s guts. Bendy pushed it off as the collector trying not to pick a fight with him every damn second, especially now that they were both tired and battered. Mugman was almost drained out of his soul juice and Bendy was still tense and tired a week after repairing a whole fucking train and ending up decommissioning a fucking sentient robot.
Neither were in the mood for more than being bitter with each other while faking kindness. But we all know who this story will end.
Mugman was always seen as the mature one out of the twins, even if he was the “younger one”. Even Elder Kettle hadn’t understood why he was so calm and collected as a child, almost mature in the way he behaved with other children in the forests of Inkwell, but that calm was the same calm before a horrible storm that yet to take place. “Miss Nolli owes you for last time. She wouldn’t mind helping you. Or Don P might-” “Shut up! You’re not real!” He mentally yelled at the grotesque image of his brother’s corpse being an asshole as per usual.
Yes, the cats owning the bakery shop id have a great sense of moral debt and they were very much morally indebted to the collectors since a very unfortunate mission that ended up costing the live of their grandfather. They cannot repay it more than offering some supplies for the boys and making sure they were under the radar during operations. But this was no operation: this was a group of people desperately trying to prove they were not at fault for the calamity and trying to keep it together, Neither worked.
People around them, on the streets avoided them. News of their wrongdoings, news of them being criminals awaiting trial... that damned mouse and his Toodles managed to make them known for the wrong things only. It must not be the first time for Bendy, as he already was head of the papers and plastered on the walls with a bounty on his head in the day he stole the map from Felix. “Yeah sure, let’s go there, pal-”
“I’m not your pal... you are lucky you are the only fucker who can see the map, or else so help me Devil-”
Mugman sighed heavily, rubbing his temples, “I swear I can feel another crack forming from you and your stupid map.” But Bendy didn’t really care for the self pity party Mugman was having at the moment, and instead decided to pick up the pace towards... where? “Demon, you’re walking in the wrong direction.”
“I have a name, mug-face”
“Well I don’t care if you have a name or not. Not move along!”
That was rude... but who could blame him? His brother was displaced somewhere in the middle grounds of the astral plane and this bane of existence while being tied by a deal to this, this caricature of a demon that cannot even walk straight. But, the deal goes both ways.
Mugman roughly yanked on the chain around his wrist, dragging Bendy over to him. “You might think you are in charge here, demon. But you aren’t. You’re cocky. Too cocky. You ought to learn your place ‘for I shoot your stupid tail off your pompous ass.” Well, well, well, this mug is more like a knife than anyone would think beforehand. This is what everyone who actually knows mugman would tell you Mugman behaves like. Rough, unfiltered, more tactical than his brother and that tactility is often mistaken as being soft. He shoots, but he knows when to. He is insane, but he knows when to let himself show that insanity. And most importantly, he knows when to walk demons on a leash in ToonTown, demons who think they know better than to shut up and look pretty for him.
And maybe he’s just sick of people thinking they can hold anything to him, use him. They somehow get to Cannolli’s Bakery, the place looking almost like thieves ran it down. “Miss Nellie? Are you here?” But nothing. There was no one there. The whole place looked voided, the cash register was broken into, the shelves were smashed, fur clusters on the floor; they were searched by the STARS. Someone knew of their past affiliations… And Mugman knew whose fault it was; if it weren’t for him, his brother would still be alive, hey would have retrieved the map, the Cat family would not have been involved in the matter-
“You did this! You demon-”
“Mugman, calm down-”
There was nothing worse in this world than tell a man who’s angry to ‘calm down’. As I said before, Bendy knew not how to not get his ass handed to him daily, he had a loose mouth that said the wrong things even when he tried to genuinely be nice to people. Like now…. “Mugman, please, let’s talk about this, maybe hey were robbed-” that was no robbery. Mickey knew that the collectors worked for Don P; and Don P was unfortunately married to Nollie. Same Cannolli who made sure she ‘forgot’ to charge them and their grandpa for certain sweets the two begged the old man getting, or when they came alone for bread and soft biscuits-
She was family. And mugman was sick loosing family because of a demon. Not again, not now.
Next thing Bendy knew was that they were outside again, in the back of te small shop, the poor former dancer pressed against the concrete wall, small buds of it cutting and scrapping his flesh slightly as the collector shook him violently. “Can’t you see what you’re doing?! Because of you and your stupid kind I’m losing my family! Everyone is losing their loved ones” his fist tightened hard, so hard that his nails were digging and chipping at the already worn glaze on his palm. “I hate you-” he punched the demon straight in the face, the loud crack when they made contact sending a jolt of adrenaline through both of them.
“M-mugman-”
“Shut up! All you are is a jinx-”
And another punch, and a roundabout kick that threw Bendy off balance ad made. Him stumble to the ground. His tail was flicking as he desperately darted is eyes around for an escape round. The man was crazy! He almost emptied his own soul and killed himself trying to ‘avange’ his undead brother.he really couldn’t get in a fight with him at the moment he wasn’t going to win, not when he knew he’d—
“Why do you say that? Is that what your precious grandpa told you on his deathbed?!”
That was low. Too low. Even the homeless thugs that lived under the Grand Bridge of ToonTown knew not to say anything of the sort about family. Especially the dead; they respected that. Bendy was not one of those thugs though, he was one petty son of a bitch that laced the tiniest bit of self preservation skills anyone would need in a street fight.
“What did you say-”
“Are you deaf or something, Mugsey~”
Bendy grabbed the chain and pulled down, making it so that Mugman fell on top of him. With a tired uff, the collector braced himself on his elbows, looking directly at the demon, whore tail trailed dangerously to his waist, wrapping itself around it horribly tight. “Listen, toots. Ya have another crash out like this and we’re gonna have a problem. You made a deal, you are nothing but my dog. Got it?”
He punctuated his words with another tug on the chain that was now around the taller man’s neck; Bendy was back in control. “And I never liked it when my dogs bark at me~” He leaned up and caught Mugman’s lips in a roug possessive kiss before he gave himself a little impulse and rolled themselves over so he was now on top, straddling the mug’s hips. “Now what was that about having me. Darling?”
“N-nothing…” Mugman’s hands moved purely on instinct and grabbed his hips tightly. “Nothing at all, love~”
——
Shelly and Pebble found a coy place to stay and Boris and Cuphead were already asleep in the middle of the rundown apartment. “How long are those two gonna be…” she asked herself. “I’m really cravin’ something.”
:: Safe:: “I’ll keep you safe for the rest of my life, my love!” >>>> Part 2
Part one -> here
|Pairing : Knight! Ben x Princess! Reader
||Rating : 18+ (violence baby)
|||After everything you two had been through the past months, the situation at the border was getting rougher. Do not fear, he is here for you. Always and forever, my dear lady.
|Warnings : bl00d, improper use of Y/N, violence eaten for breakfast, he goes on a rampage to keep you safe (he’s a sweetie, under all the bl00d and g0re)
||Sinop. :
When I knock at your door at night
You open it for me
When I look at your plate hungry
You give it to me
When I told you I loved you
You told me the same
Ok, I am sooooooo sorry for everyone who was lowkey waiting for the final part since fkn july?! This little baby was written and rewritten so many times it actually became a comedy in it's own deciding the ending. Hope yall like it <3 - k0k0
It was a beautiful and warm early-autumn morning, the sun shone only shy from the brightness of the summer. You were by the window, your arms resting lazily on the windowsill and head laid on the arms, gazing out into the garden where you could hear from your chamber in the castle a very distinguishable “Damn you, Tennyson!” And half the garden was burnt to a crisp as Ben tried again to train one of his forms – some tall rocky entity covered in flames. You came accustomed with his other forms, maybe even more than you’d love to acknowledge.
He always found some silly name for his forms and some stuck with you. How could they not if he began being comfortable with them around you an barely staying human as it was. Not to mention the young knight became even more reckless and full of himself after his grandfather took over the kingdom. Too right out, too daring – even picking up fights with old commanders and captains just to ‘test his powers and capabilities’. “Don’t worry, my lady! I’ll win for you, every time. That’s a promise.” You heard that more often than hello, like he was trying to prove you a point.
You shook your head seeing the destruction in the courtyard; not that it’s the first time, by the way, and stepped away from the window, making your way outside slowly. In situations such as this you always had to bail him out and sweet talk the old gardener into not turning your lover into plant manure or a woodchopping stomper.
And just as predicted, not even two steps out the side threshold and old man Levin was loosing his mind. Poor man thought that retiring from knighthood after etching his own son the basics and becoming the castle’s garden was going to be a good retirement plan. Little I did he know- “Never in my 142 years of age have I ever met someone as insufferable, as reckless,” Has this man even seen his fucking son? “As downright destructive as you, Tennyson.” Yup. Jus anormal, regular day in this castle.
“You’re lucky that I have the upmost respect for your grandfather or else-” You finally cleared your throat, making them both turn their attention to you “My lady, apologies for not noticing you sooner”
“Hi bae~” you lightly smacked the back of his head feigning annoyance at the overused patname. No really, people who didn’t know might say that it’s your name with how much he calls you that. “Pleaseforgivemeeee” he said extremely fast as he melted against your side. If emotional manipulation would be a person, that was Ben wen he was trying to get out of trouble. You brushed it off and were now talking his way out of punishment, the biggest grace you managed to earn was getting his ass to work and help clean up all the mess, replant everything that was destroyed – while still fully human. No monsters allowed until the garden was going to look better.
He grumbled, but agreed in the end, as he knew that there wasn’t really a way out with the ex-knight; when Levin wanted to make things even, he never stopped until he saw to it. The whole morning and afternoon was set with you asking sure ben was not using some kind of trick to speed up the process. “Y/N, this is tortureee” he whined walking up to you and leaning on your side, too tired to do anything else. Ben yawned and closed his eyes grumbling about the knights being a pain in his ass.
“Honey, you’re one too”
“Which makes it even worse-! I just want to sleep for a decade… or two- make it three.”
You couldn’t help but snicker at his misery, petting his fury chocolate hair, fingers playing softly with brushed out curls. A baby is what Ben was most of the time when he refused to do his work the right and proper way for a young knight. You got used to it though, there wasn’t much you could’ve done about it anyways. He morphed into some cute critter with long pointy ears and green eyes the size of a small teacup resting plate. “Don’t you dare use those tricks on me, mister. You destroy the yards a thousand time a day. You have no escape from this you know?”
Late into the evening, at your door knocked once, twice, thrice your very loving boyfriend, bringing you some oddly good looking and intact flowers. “Beautiful flowers-” he bowed, jokingly Ashe knew you got annoyed when he did that “for a beautiful lady.” You welcomed him inside, closing the door and throwing a small blanket on the ground, kicking it with your feet till the seem of the door, to muffle any sound that might be unwelcome to the others. And after all, eavesdropping was no stranger to the people of the castle; the last thing you needed was people knowing what you talked with Ben in the late of night, when the. Moon was up.
“So? How’s the work coming along, mister destroyer of human things?” You teased, punching his armoured arm- big mistake, it was too hard. “Ouch” he laughed, “well I sure hope it’s ouch, bae. It’s supposed to keep us alive during battle.” The battle of what? Cuddling your lady to sleep? Oh woe are the nights for such difficult hardships. Jokes aside, he was right, no one knows. When or if an attack will happen and with the situation of your father’s passing and the neighboring kingdoms already having been very snarky with the borders in the past, no one could take any risks.
They knew the Tennyson’s took over, so they have been docile until now. If it were for someone else to take over the throne, some random high courtesan, they would’ve attacked until now, a dozen times. Politics in this region had always been very difficult, not by complexity but how fast people change their opinions on who their allies were and who their enemies were. And with the monsters still roaming free and even having mixed with humans – this was going o be so much more interesting.
“The work on he court yard, Ben-” you asked again, this time actually being serious. You watched as the an in front of you squirmed and rubbed the back of his head, muttering nonesense about how he also had training and it was faster to use one of his forms if he was allowed and ah blabbering blabberin. “So you’re stalling”
“My princess-”
“No more kisses for you tonight! And I am serious this time!”
He dropped on his knees in front of you like a defeated man being denied water in the desert, wrapping his arms around your las and poking up at you with puppy dog eyes. No transformation just him. You had to admit, human or not, those pretty green eyes always got you to bend your ‘cruel’ punishments and allow him some wiggle room.
Sighing, you pulled him up and in bed with you. “You’re Lucy I love you, idiot…”
The skies roared, clouds rated as acid rain pour relentlessly from them; the ground shook violently making experienced fighters behave like a sailboat’s helper on their first day at the job; bodies swinging left and right as they tried to move outside and see what was going on. No, not to see what was going on but rather what was causing whatever abnormality this was. People ran left and right outside, screaming their heads off, trying to take as many people out of danger – children and elderly being swooped up in run down or-not-so-run-down carts, with tapestry or bedcloth above everyone’s head to try and minimize the effect of the corrosive acid that fell from the sky.
The ground shook again, more violently than before, and if the ruckus until then did not wake you up, it sure woke ben up. Hours ago, he felt it coming, his body reacted to this odd feeling that something was amiss. He didn’t really sleep, not really, he just held onto you as you blissfully unaware slept during the night. You couldn’t have know on the things that were going to happen, because the cause wasn’t human. The tennysons have been training for this day for generations, they knew that he will return and try to take control of the land the humans had.
A force they once feared only as a fable now returned tenth fold – most would say the end of the worl had begun. Many kingdoms, villages that were autonomous have already been thrashed and torn into pieces, their humans long killed or taken in as slaves for the monster of al monsters. Even the non-humans feared this man, this creature. Not obeying his orders would’ve meant certain death.
When you had the courage to get out of the sheets, to an empty room with a shattered window, you wanted all of this to be only a bad dream. The or glass must’ve shattered at the force of the tai-fun outside, you cautiously stepped around it to your door, but then another small, powerful earthquake hit, making you fall back. You landed into the glass, despite your best attempts to avoid it,the shards piercing your skin, ripping through the lairs of meat and drawing out blood. You didn’t scream, you couldn’t afford to scream. In moments like this, weakness was what killed many until now, man more to come in seconds after that.
The pain, although unbearable, you rolled onto your front and crawled to the door, punching I ope with a groan and finally being able to stand up holding onto the doorframe still. Some poor scribe was running up and down the stairs carrying heavy scrolls and archived documents, trying to save them, to store them in the deepest pits of the castle where no one would ever find them. Only he’d know. He was well trined for situations like this one, but even he was panicking, sweat running down his forehead. All for the sake of bureaucracy, even in times such as these.
Why was this happening, why cannot you and the people catch a break from everything going down south. You just want a breather, a small opening of air in a putrid and collapsing cave, even if you know that it might be the last one- the past year was your air pocket. Your last air pocket. You cursed under your breath, dusting off the bits of glass still clinging to your skin or clothes and rushed down the stairs of your tower into the main hall. There was a barricade of knights, trying to hold onto the doors closed. Something- someone was trying to get inside. No ben in sight yet.
“Augustus where is everyone?” You asked one of the more seasoned knights that you knew well from standing guard by your father’s throne back in the day. He did not respond, but the Grimm look on his face was talking enough for you to know that the monsters were responsible for this – the man hated them and wore that same scowl ever since they had their first border clash with them. Whomever planed this, planned it well. They weren’t going to just destroy everything in sight, no no no, they were going to kill the interimar ruler, they were going to seize the throne— who knows what else the monsters had in mind. They were not human, they did not think like humans; they hold grudges generationally, they believe that the earth is dying by a disease walking on 2 legs, talking and calling themselves people. You.. overheard Gwen and Kevin talking once.
“Not much until the day…”
“Have his unplanned plans ever failed?”
In hainsight, it was obvious; it had been so obvious fro the get go. The scholar running was trying to hide the evidence, the physician that ‘treated’ your father was poisoning him the dispatchment of knights from the borders, cutting ties with neighbours— a spear the size of a support pillar cut through the door with unspeakable force, unfortunately sticking many soldiers in the process. Te room filled with screams as blood sprayed onto everything, everyone, someone’s guts, twisted and glistening in red hitting your legs.
You felt bile raise so far up your throat— but fear is cruel and did not allow you to do anything else than swallow drily and tremble. Your breathing hitched and shook as the spear retracted just as fast, clearly aiming for another blow. Your feet moved before your mind could ever register what was happening, you were running aimlessly back into the caste, deep; deeper than you ever were, deeper than you ever should. You felt a presence behind you, a sharp pain in the back of your head and everything… faded to black.
—
When you came around, you were back in your room, the window was not broken anymore, your cuts however still there. You tried to stand up, but your head was hurting on much. “Mornin, lovely… sould’ve known you’d try to run and se what was going on. Humans are so fucking guillable.”
You looked up. It was Ben alright… not your ben though. He’d never be this cruel in a situation like this, he’d never- “I did promise I’ll protect you though… Never said anything about the others”
“But you’re a hero!”
“Hero-” he scoffed, leaning on the wall in front of your bed, playing with a small blade “it’s funny because last I checked I am helping people, my kind of people.Even through blood, I do not have a no-killing rule, bae.”
He came closer, grabbing your hand and placing the blade in it. Your hand shook feeling the metal and leather in your grasp, the item much heavier than it was supposed to be. “You will use this on any mother fucker that doesn’t get the memo you’re mine. Human or not.” He rolled you fingers oddly gently to tighten your fist around the small weapon. “I’ll always keep you safe, my lady.“ He gave your lips a small peck before quickly turning into some mortifying creature- black and blue, wings…. Frigid
And with a swoosh he rejoined the outside, phasing through the exterior wall with a howl.
|Warnings: blood/ink drinking, sex cuz yes, knotting, oral, p0rn w/ + w/o plot idk (bcz if there is plot, it’s horrible)
Night fell over Toontown, very few establishments still open: bars, And like any team that is celebrating their stellar success in finding one of the machines pieces in Garden View, the cup brothers, the B-brothers and their new acquaintances Shelly and Pebbles were drowning their regrets and bad decisions in their poison of choice. The bar had a huge cloud of smoke roaming around the main longue, chocking the poor singer that burst her pipes on the makeshift stage as she sung about some good for nothing lackey she was with in the past year.
Cuphead came to the table with a slight wobble in his step as he placed down two more bottles of ageless vodka. “Djrimk it up, buttercupz!” He slurred trying (and failing misserably) to do so, slumping over the chair like some idiot that barely learned how to walk. At that, his brother snorted audibly, starting to blabber a song with bendy, two very apohonic idiots that were though having fun while drunk.
“Have you ever her sofa funny river man-” “reeferms mannn!”
It was their very first moment they could wind down and get silly with one another, actually celebrate a small win in the war that finding the machine pieces was gonna be. Shelly ordered some more crispy chicken tenders for both herself and her trusty Pebble to munch at while she tried to fit yet another Prosecco-Sprite combo down her throat. Another glass and then another in, Boris tried to stop her from getting alcohol poisoning, as he already knew that tying to make bendy break up with the beer bottle and singing badly together with his buddy Mugman was going to be harder than when he tried to rip him apart from the bakery down town and those salted pretzels… the damned pretzels.
Who doesn’t love a steaming fresh soft pastries that are so good they med like honey on your tongue and make your soul tingle with that sweet thump only a lover might be able to evoke once again.
“Loosen up, puppercut. Yer such a bore-” Cuphead shouted, showing a big glass of whatever alcoholic beverage there was. “Drink up before I mooch you drun-” he hiccuped, the straw in his head bobbing slightly “drunk” he giggled and slumped slightly on the table.
Boris sighed heavily once more, his tail wagging slightly as he picked up the glass and downed it in one go. He was a very simple man with very simple needs. You are. To make him happy with a pint of beer and some soggy, overly salty french fries. Nothing was going to make him feel better after a rough day more than a fresh batch of fries with ketchup as he was more drunk than a vineyard worker on a Saturday. “Fine, fine… just don’t moan when I tell you I told you so when all of you ask the toilet for its pipe in marriage.”
And so, the only thing breathing that was not drunk at that table was the fucking dog- and no, not Boris. He’s a wolf, please do not get him confused with the small and hyperactive Pebble. A small yip here and a small yip there were the only things keeping Shelly and Mugman sober enough t remember to feed the dog- and feed the dog they did. Let’s just say weaned to change his name to Boulder if the gang will have many more nights like this.
The buzz of the bar was slowly dying down as the night went on and fellas left the small space that reeked like Tuesday takeout dinner and very bad decisions made into the bathroom of said bar. Bad decisions such as the ones Cuphead and Boris were making right now. After the unfortunate situation that Boris got nauseaus from drinking so much on an empty stomach and it ended up in him heaving all he drank into the closest plant pot. And Cuphead, I all his gentlemanliness, decided to help the poor puppet to the bathroom to get some water on his snout and wash the stale taste on the tongue.
Nothing wrong till here, right? Wrong: there is something wrong alright when two drunk men end up making out in the bathroom like teens from a sappy early 1920’s romcom. “It must be illegal to be this fine, doggy.why are you alive?”
“Because my mama gave birth to me.” Boris chuckled, still drunk out of his brain, with a craving deep writhing him that just couldn’t get put out with only a few kisses. “Com’ere pretty boy~” he cooed pulling Cuphead flush against himself and smashing his muzzle to his mouth in a desperate attempt to latch onto him as closely as possible. All teeth and tongue, the collector tried to get the upped he and back from the mutt pushing his tongue in the other’s mouth, only to be denied with a rather painful bite that drew out small droplets of blood – warm and slightly bitter from days of barely sleeping and escaping stress. Cuphead quickly pulled his head to the side, burying his face in his partner’s shoulder.
“You don’t play fair, pooch…”
“I never said I play nice.”
Boris started panting slightly, the gnawing hunger barely kept under a thin blanket of self restraint, fangs already bared, tail not only moving left and right like normal – it was calculated, to precise, too controlled. He wanted to give the collector the impression he was all safe and sound. But let’s be honest: no one is when Boris gets hungry.
He pushed the cup-headed man to the nearest stall wall, holding him in place as he started to press his claws in his hips; not hard enough to pierce the porcelain skin, but enough to send the right message, ‘I am here. You are mine.’ Teeth coming down on Boris’s neck made him yelp, but not pull away. This was mutual, this was them both having the same drive to get the upper hand. Another whimper ripped out of the mutts throat before he managed to wiggle away some room and get away from those Peary whites threatening him. “Hah, so you have. A bit to ya too. How absolutely nice of you, honey”
They kissed again, Cuphead feeling very, very excited about the fact he scored such a literal babe. And from what? Doing the bare minimum while both drunk? Amazing; he would’ve done it long before. If he knew Boris was this much of a simple man to woo, he would’ve done it long before, skipping the playing ‘cool and cold guy that’s a literal psycho’. After all, he wanted to feel his fur on his porcelain since day one when he got punched square in the face. So, his hands began to trail down before his brain could actually make a decision “I want you, pooch. I want you so fucking bad it hurts…”
“Then let me help you get rid of the pain”
And with that, Boris knelt down before Cuphead. Like clockwork the door to the bathroom opened and then closed just as fast, a poor sucker deciding he will not learn how to shack up in the back with. Wolf and a Collector. “How much do you think he saw?” Cuphead asked, reality finally kicking him in the shin and realizing how fucked up it was. Boris let out a softul, not really caring if anyone saw them right now; his mind and hands were too occupied undoing his man’s belt that just didn’t want to be opened at the moment. “Awe, pupper. Come on-” growing impatient himself, Cuphead finally worked it out for him.
“Ain’t ya a doll~”
“Shut up before I change my mind-“ that was all the wolf had to hear to yank down his pants and quickly fist his aching bonner, earning a low curse from the other. He gave him a few teasingly slow pumps, taking in the sight of his very drunk partner. He slowly, slowly gave him few teasing licks, tasting the slightly sour precum. Slightly sweet with just a dash of lemon to it; whatever it was, made Boris’ mind go foggy with need, his own pants becoming horribly uncomfortable at the moment.
Cuphead reached down and gently placed a hand at the back of the wolf’s head, lightly guiding his he’d to take him in finally. But Boris refused and pulled away slightly. “You do realize I have a mouth full’a fangs right?” The collector chuckled, and sighed, leaning his own head to the wall, handle bumping on he plaster. “Lick it up, pup~” Boris was anything but a coward, Boris was anything but a hungry wolf who cannot keep his own instincts in check. Boris is- very much hungry. He growled loudly and dipped down, nipping quite roughly at cuphead’s left thigh. “Believe me… I can barely keep myself together right now you punk.”
Oh that nip was dangerous, because he accidentally drew out a small sliver of blood. Once that sweet, sweet hemoglobin-irony scent it his nostrils, the wolf turned bad wolf in seconds. He licked, rough, slow on the small mark before yanking Cuphead sow by the hips. The other man gasped slightly as he found himself on the floor. “Hand and knees, buttercup.” That was no request, that was no question, that was a mother fucking order. And if Cuphead learned anything from living with an ex-military man, you never disobey a direct order. Not even a couple moments after rolling himself on his stomach, the collector felt Boris’ clawed paws roughly yank him back, those damned shiny talons threatening to crack his very much sensitive porcelain.
The wolf quickly mounted him, and to be honest no one knows when he lost his own pants in the floor, but he did, throbbing member o so dangerously close to Cupheads hole, as his hand were keeping him spread. “Yer a sight for sore eyes, you know that?~” he grumbled with what little restraint he still had before pushing his hips forward.
“Y-you fucking animal!”
“Yeah? Tell me something I don’t know.”
Truth be told, rawdogin was one thing, going rawdoging on the floor of a pub, no paly no nothing was downright vile. Even for a horny blood sucking wolf like Boris. “Oh for the love of-” he slammed his hips forward, finally getting in- oh but not just getting in, almost bottoming out from the fucking first thrust. Cuphead moaned audiably, not really caring if someone was at the door r if patrons heard them from the main saloon “p-pup- huff oh celestial, fuck me!”
Boris was a simple man wit simple needs: salty and overly greasy french fries, a small pouch of blood stolen from the local hospital and a beer once in a while were all what he needed. Until now… now, all he wanted was just to make sure Cuphead knew he owned him now. No other fucking man or woman will ever look at him again, he’ll make sure of it. Boris leaned in and bit down hard on Cuphead’s side of the neck while setting up a fast soppy pace. He punctured his skin, tasting more of that sweet metallic blood of his. The poor cup couldn’t really do much other than blabber breathless, moany nonesense, gripping at the floor tiles.
“Oh my fuh-ahh! Easy! P-please p-please I can’t go form-much-ahh!”
Did Boris slow down? Heck no. He finally got the cup’o’his dreams and he was so not going to let go of him. Having had his momentarily fill of blood though, he eventually let go of his neck, licking the deep would vigorously, as he continued to fuck into him with relentless abandon. He was chasing his sky high, not carrying about anything in the world than hearing those beautiful screams of his partner. “fucking hells, imma- mph-”
He slowly ushedforward, forcing the slightly big knot past Cuphead’s poor hole, finally coming inside. The collector wasn’t in a different position ether, muffling his voice in his crossed forearms, his load not so discretely painting his lower stomach and the tiles underneath him. Both men panted like cray, trying to come down from their highs, both the alcohol and smell of sex clouding their minds and not allowing them to get a better grip on reality.
Bendy had a grim expression on his face as he exited the bar, making a beeline to the rest of the group. “They’re gonna take a while, let’s go” he quietly mumbled, tugging both Shelly’s and Mugman’s arms in the very opposite direction of the cursed place, where he saw something very unholy -even for a demon.
Koko... It's been months.... Where is our Bendystraw train that will hit us? HARD.. :3 please do write it I beg you... Eheh
:: “My, your eyes do shine like the stars...”
|Fandom: MOTM
||Pairing: Bendy x Cuphead (Bendystraw)
|||Rating: teen&up
|Warnings: depression, bendy is spiraling in fear and almost follows the snow flower, late night kisses and improper usage of straw guns, this is the masochism tango.
The cold, unwelcoming air of mid-late January hit the cracked windows on the safehouse harshly, making the sills rattle and whirl a mourning song. The night was just cracking into the sky, as people hurried inside before stone cutting snow was angrily thrown on the ground by clouds that were frozen in place since this morning. And life in the middle of no where, surrounded by trees and endless hills sprinkled with white was no different.
Bendy hurriedly swallowed another bite of buttered toast, like a pelican that barely chewed lazily on a fish two times before sliding it down with a drop of seawater. “Too salty-” He complained halfway through taking another bite, as he made his way to the small entry hallway threshold. Another sleepless night spent outside for him, even if is was freezing cold outside – anything was better than to be stuck alone in the safehouse with people he barely knew, barely recognized as allies.
He needed a breather so damn much. And the stale smell of mildew in this abandoned warehouse in the forest that by some miracle could be called a safe spot for hour main cast, sure as hell didn’t help his situation. He fumbled with his coat, trying to close it, but the zipper was so brittle, it snapped. Bendy let out an audible sigh and clicked his tongue when he slipped his shoes on and went outside.
Not even a second, the snow crunched under his shoes that somehow were too thin, leaving space for the coldness to seep in. He shuddered and slowly made his way on the same drag path his brother Boris and that Mugman left behind when gathering some wood from the forest; to unsafely light a fire inside the house. Very adulting adults mind you. What else screams “responsible” if not making a fire in an iron cast barrel that they randomly found in a room that held fermented bottle’o’botulism and depression.
“Fucking January…” he complained as he walked deeper into the forest. Bendy was a very cold blooded demon, even more than your average darling devil; so it is no wonder he absolutely hates winter and snow and very cold weather. Nor even halfway to the forest, he felt this eerie feeling something crawling after him. Searchers were still lurking in the shadowy area of the ToonCity outskirts, so feeling followed wasn’t something necessary outlandish. What could be seen as both weird and downright insane was walking alone in the dark outside of the already scarce population of the outskirts.
Yet, like the snow that fell from the sky, Bendy did not stop not even once, and entered the territory of many people’s fears.
The trees were beaten down, scratch marks and rough bites – the same as a child biting into a caramel apple candy at a fair – decorating the deep brown bark. Some younger trees that clearly were going through one of their first winters were bent and deformed under the weight of the monsters roaming the woodland, used, abused as resting points for bodies that long should have been in the ground and not walking it. The snow left behind frostbitten bones tat still had some unfortunate creatures flesh on them, lying in a small dark rouge splash of colour over the awfully pristine white.
It almost hurts the eyes to look at it, let alone smell the decay and sliver of live that clung to it- Bendy took a small step towards it before crouching to its level and pressing the palm of his hand into the stained, not perfect snow. “Bear..” He stated almost monotonously. Now we don’t know if he meant that it was a bear attack or a break cub that was hunt by something bigger that resulted into the small pile of nothingness to stop him from his walk.
Bendy sighed heavily, curling his tail upwards, closer to his midriff. The poor limb would always get much colder outside, especially when it was snow on the ground or puddles of icy rainwater due to it trailing, blooming the ground most times. He shuddered and stood back up, bumping into something almost soft. “Now ain’t you just a ray of sunshine, mister Bendy the Dancing Demon.” Cupheads awfully rough voice echoed in his ears.
“You followed me?
“Rule number one: no one walks alone, at night, in the fucking forest. Not to mention unarmed.” He crossed his arms and looked over at the eaten creature. “Tsk… sucker, we should get that as far away as possible. It can attract wolves or something.”
Bendy cringed at that a little bit. Not all wolves were eating half rotting corpses off the floor of the forest like some sanitary fish in a household fish tank owned by someone so lazy they buy a fish that cleans the glass and pebble floor for them instead. The shorter man grumbled something about his brother being a wolf before complaining that he wasn’t going to be the one to grab it. “Alright, princess.” Cuphead cooed, before unceremoniously picking up the poor dead animal and walking with it deeper in the forest.
And as rules stated (rules imposed by the one man that seemed to never follow rules to begin with) he needs to follow and make sure they both get back home safe and sound – aka, with as little trauma as possible. Mission impossible, many times.
Cuphead was fast. Yes, he was a collector. Yes, he was significantly taller or at least taller enough to move faster than Bendy; but this was different. He was moving even more now that Boris somehow found the patience to mend the shards of his head together. Ad most probably out of pure guilt for being the one to shoot the cup in the first place. “So, any other reason why you decided to stroll around here, edgelord?” The voice was muffled by the snow, but Bendy could still hear him very clearly.
Good question, why was he here for again? He forgot… or tried to forget anyways.
“Why?”
“I saw you awake and getting ready to leave… if something happens to you-”
The collector stopped himself before he found say something even more sappy that would ruin the mood with the whole friendship and companionship thing during this whole quest. The snow was slowly tying to set a thin layer of ice over Cupheads soul liquid from staying outside for too long. Oh how much he wouldn’t give to be back home and Elder Kettle brewing some nice chamomile tea for him and Mugshot, the warmth would be seeping into their heads, into their souls… But those were the wishful thinking of someone who was anchoring himself in a past that was long gone. Now… he was a corpse cleaner with some demon he didn’t know in a forest he hardly recognized and fighting with whatever remains of the so-called STARS government that they all believed in like mindless drones.
And in a few moments they were near a small gulf with icy swords erupting from the ground – an outcome of the heavy snow that fell and deposited on the rocky bottom. “This is as good as we’re gonna get. Throw it in before we fuckin freeze out here.” Bendy muttered trying to hide his face from the cold, in that coat with little and beat down fur. Something about that gulf, the small yet deep hole that seemed to be a perfect place to be thrown and forgotten lured him in more than he wanted to admit. “Fucking hell”
As the falling body of the unfortunate animal made a deafening thud sound hitting the icy stones underneath them, the inky demon sat down by the edge of the gulf and stared at it. The rotten blood mixing with blueish hued ice and their blackening shadows. Only in moments, Cuphead sat down next to him, wrapping an arm around the other muttering an excuse about it being to cold outside and not wanting him to die or something since he is the only one able t read the forsaken map. What a silly excuse of a man that thinks such a corny thing can be mistaken as care and not as flirting.
And in a moment’s heartbeat, the collectors voice cracked under the snowflakes “My, your eyes do shine like stars…” His soul liquid suddenly warmed up realizing he said that out loud, bubbling and seething under the pressure the silence put them in. “I’m sorry-” “Don’t be… that’s a very nice thing to say actually. You’re… eyes are-” And as Bendy looked into his eyes, seeing the age of a killer, red and full of corpses-
“Your eyes are the sky mine want to be in”
And so they inched closer, and closer – and Cuphead quickly pulled away and cleared his throat “We really shouldn’t, not right now… fuck why am I like this…” but as someone might dream only in some popular drama. With a witty tail and a charming please, he gave in, reluctantly so. What if he hurts him, he is unlovable, after all. What if… what… if-
Bendy shifted his weight slightly, wrapping his tail around the cup’s waist, pulling him closer into the awkward, very nonchalant kiss. It was only a short peck on the lips that could barely even think of warming their lips from the cold snow. Cuphead finally stopped thinking of what ifs and let himself feel the moment, feel the ink demon against him.
“Now it wasn’t so bad, right?”
“Shut up-”
They both started snickering like idiots, like children that were just playing a game and for a moment, all the pain in the world ceased to exist and it was only the two f them, sitting down in freezing snow, outside of their safe house but so protected with love from one another:no map, no blot, no STARS and no one to tell them what they could and couldn’t do in the world they lived in. Cease the day, as one says.
Bendy’s gaze fell again over the poor mingle of meat and bones that once used to be a living and breathing little animal that loved and felt and cried most likely. “I feel bad for it you know? We-I… I feel like it’s not fair for it to be down there and for me to live. Poor thing is down there and I am up here.”
“What do you even mean? Don’t do something stupid, Bendy-”
“Stupid?!” He laughed, barely containing himself at that moment, but that was no happy laugh; it was the roar of a very tired bear that was going to run straight into a mountain side or a huge boulder, letting his head smash and curl around the rocky surface, grin matted splattering around and finally finding peace and relief from the pain as some searcher gnawed the corpse left behind. Bendy really wanted to be that bear right now. After all, he was already sick with the blot, he was already one foot into his grave; yet he was on top of the gulf and a small and innocent animal was being forgotten at the bottom, decaying and covered by snow.
“I am not stupid, I am pragmatic. And tired from having to fight with an enemy that is inside me. I’m dying, Cuphead.” He was dying… that was true, but that didn’t mean he should put an end to it al now. “That’s why I came here in the first place. I wanted to get lost in the forest and stop fighting.”
“You’re suicidal…”
“And you have a gun made out of a spiral straw..” another moment of silence made him realise how much of an asshole he was right now- “‘m sorry-” “No. You never apologise for how you feel, do you understand, short stack? Never! If you’re sad then you’re sad, if you feel like a wet burrito tortilla, hen you’re a wet burrito tortilla. Got it?”
The cup quickly held him in his arms, more than a hug, it was reassurance; more than a hug, it was safety; more than a hug,it was the primordial need to care for someone you care.”what if… I wanna be one of the flowery snowflakes falling in the gulf…?” And the two shifted together closer and closer to the edge.
“Then I’d hold you close and tell you: I’m coming too”.
.
.
.
A loud crushing thunder, then quiet. The snowstorm stopped.
I am back form my very unannounced hiatus, after an entire month of exams. 18 exams taken; but I am still alive, thankfully. And this lil potato leveled up to level 21 his year (fuck I'm ancient. I remember writing Ninjago fanfictions when I was 12).
Returning I noticed a lot of you liking/following me in the meantime and I am very thankful for that. Love you guys! (Also thank you for those who were exceptionally patient with me - I see you dearies).
So, I came with an ahem new (old as time itself) idea and I am now
Yes, you heard it well. The idea popped up after receiving a message from a very cutie Nonnie.
Now, let's settle some ground rules, because even I have them despite leaning so strongly and unapologetic towards Dead Dove Do Not Eat.
Ok so:
R̞͓̰̘̯̟ͬ̄͒̃͊̚U̬̫͛̽Ḽ̮̤̠͓̳̦E͍̿S̑̾͒ͩ͛̚:
1. Please be respectful towards other people that ask for requests or just pop off a message in chats. I do not encourage any bad behaviour on any of my pages.
2. Please read the rules... obviously
3. Please do not request one of the following: incest, zoophilia, deliberate pedos like... the kid wanting it too? you know what i mean pls don't do that, mpregs, feederism, proships of any kind (I will hunt you down for that, i am not sorry). I will update this list if anything bad pops up in my mind that I am neither comfortable writing about or is just too much for the public/a site as well.
4. Please be patient. This little cryptid-lover had a lot on her plate and is thankful you were until now. After requesting it might take anywhere between a day and a month for me to get to you. (sry :<)
5. Enjoy yourselves??? Ask me anything. Literally... there's a small possibility I wasn't/am not/will not be(if you have reccomandations) for a fandom. I won't judge on the xReader requests either-
Love you and see you in the next episode.
--K0k0 signing out for tonight
||| Rating: 16+ ish
||| Warnings : minor character death/mentions, major character death, murder (Mugs is a hitman, what did you expect), drugs??
It was a very warm early autumn night, and the streets of Toontown were dimly lit by lights coming from late-opened shops, homes and apartments still bustling inside with people coming back from work. The street lighting fixtures finally blessed the late shift workers and night guards with their synthetic, dead light that could blind even the mightiest of moths and it would die upon seeing it. The piss yellow colour cast splotchy circles on the ground, in which dust danced freely.
This scenery is also known as an ‘every week Thursday’, because we all know nothing important happened on Thursday. And on such an event-less night like this, Mugman and Cuphead just finished their last bounty, going home to celebrate it over a pint of beer and some stale pretzels they got discounted before the bakery they frequent closed for the day. “Can’t believe that guy basically handed us all the goodies!”, Cuphead’s voice beamed of fake proudness at their latest riad.
Maybe someone shouldn’t be this glad after they just killed an entire gang that tried to overthrow the already existent main mafia in the backwaters of Toontown, but whatever gets the older collector’s boat sailing, one might guess. The two twins got in front of their block, where a tall man waited for them, avoiding the street lights, avoiding people’s gazes. He was dressed in all black, his trenchcoat was brooming the sidewalk in an all-too-fashionable way, and the hat he wore was covering his face. But they didn’t need to see in order to know who it was...
“Finally you two discarded of those good for nothing lackeys.” The mysterious man sais before lighting himself a cigar. “Don has another job for the two of you tonight if you may.” An audible ‘tsk’ from Mugman, followed by an inquiry was med with a wide, sleazy grin and an envelope. Creamy, light purple accents – fancy. Too fancy... “Don P has some unfinished business with a certain Duck. She is going to attend a banquet, a party, I don’t know much. I haven’t opened the invitation and the Don doesn’t want to startle too much of the vein – the lady still is oblivious.”
“So an in and out job, you say... we can do that, yes.” the tall mug said, snatching the invitation from their messenger and looked at his brother. “We’ll meet you in the morning to tell you the news.” The man nodded and left giving Cuphead a pat on the shoulder and slip-dropping something in one of his pockets.
The two made their way in their apartment, the stale, unfiltered air welcoming them. Mugman turned on the lights, the lightbulb buzzing in protest, too old and tired to actually fill the hall with anything but a hue of dirty, off-white. “And here I wanted to just stay home for the night and scrape off Loz tickets from the gas station...” “Oh shut up, Crackhead! Don P always pays hearty if we do a good job.” his brother protested, going to take a seat on the couch.
It groaned slightly under his weight, before Mugs opened the envelope and read it out loud from 2 to 3 lines. “Blah blah, to Vida Rosa, 20:00, str- blah blah invitation for a couples only-” And he frowned. Couples only. That idiot of a messenger got an invitation for a couple instead of +1 or solos or anything. They basically couldn’t go- unless... Cuphead already grabbed a bottle and opened it with a loud hiss.
“What’s got ya panties in a twist, M’shot?”
“Cuphead do we still have that old robe Chalice left behind?”
The bendy strawed calix froze mid room, confused to why his brother was basically asking for a ghost’s robe- no scratch that, the thing her corpse was wearing when they found it the first time and basically took it because it was covered in pink sugar and it helped with parrying. Even if it meant having to smell the decaying corpse on it. “Maybe... but uhhh... why? The effect wore off long ago.”
Mugman showed his sibling the invitation, as if he didn’t hear what he read; and let’s be honest, he was too deep into the bag of pretzels to pay attention. “Tsk... wai- Mugman!” He shouted basically, as he realised what his twin brother was implying: one of them would have to dress up as a gal tonight to get in. “Can’t I just say my pair’s sick or something?” “And be suspicious for the whole night, you mean? Come on, you’d fit right in!”
The clock was ticking and it was already 18:45. They had around an hour to get themselves presentable for the party tonight. And to think the friend of a star was going to be there tonight, made them even more stressed at the moment. Chaos - the property of a complex system whose behaviour is so unpredictable as to appear random, owing to great sensitivity to small changes in conditions; or better known as the two twin cup brothers trying to make one of them fit in a ladies dress and running up and down in the apartment in order to find ideas of how the hell they should play this tonight.
“Dude, Mugs... that means you’re my date tonight.”
“Ew... I deserve better.” That earned a slap on the arm from his brother. But hey, he was right!
Jokes aside, the lucky looser that got to be Chalice tonight was – drumrolls please – Mugman. He fit in the dress as the poor fabric was nearly going to break the second Cuphead made a move. Cursed be him with a leaner frame! Mugs was colouring in his eyelids with markers to make it look like makeup, as his brother was tying his tie. “I just realized something. Muggie. You’re absolutely fucking for a lady!” It was true, the robe showed a lot of arms, thankfully little legs and to be quite fair, his muscles were looking very not lean in this moment. “You... think this is gonna fly?”
He sighed “Gimme your jacket for the night. I’ll argue I’m cold or something.” A smart solution, at least for the time being. One of them had his brain with him for tonight at least.
______________________________________
Vida Rosa, one of the most frequented casinos in Toontown, second in the whole Isles, falling shy a few hundred thousand grant in earnings under the Devil’s Casino. The place was too bright, the lighting was blinding, and the personnel too jolly. The pink hued lights coming from inside cascaded down the windowsills and bled into the pavement, mixing with the stale yellow light from nearby night lamps. “Tsk... too bright” Mugman argued, and it was indeed too bright: the numerous small bulbs of light circling the welcome sign and the weird wire concoction in the windows glowing between a crisp white and a blinding fucsia.
In other words, the building stood out from other neighboring buildings like a sore thumb. Calm and soft and welcoming were the community library, some coquette flower shops and even a grocery store at the ground floor of a block of flats. But either way, they needed to deal with this hit, just like other times.
Once at the entrance the cup brothers were stopped by two bouncers; oxen toons – big, scarry, easily irritable. “We’re reserved tonight” The tone had all the intentioned bite to it, too much even. “And we are here for the event,” Cuphead pulls out the envelope from the back of his pants, zero mannerism, which did make one of the guards scrunch up his snout. Although, they would’ve loved to throw them into the street, the two oxen had no real case to deny them entry, despite their odd appearance. “Weirdo’s” The other muttered as Mugman and Cuphead finally made their way inside.
A particularly loud band was playing live that night, and their intel man hasn’t really said something important: all the fucking STARS were there for the night. Cuphead couldn’t tare his eyes off the Jessica Rabbit in particular, keeping an eye out if she notices something. It wouldn’t be the first time the head of the Justice Department would screw over their hit and chase them down with a small team trying to arrest them. They always got away, of course. Red couldn’t catch them when they were 8 and “defenseless”, then, she couldn’t catch them now. But you can never be too sure with that woman. Right now, she might seem to be chatting with her family, having fun and all – but the next she could take out her gun and kill a bitch if she needed to protect the rest of the STARS.
“Ugh, I hate this.” The younger Collector finally whispered to his brother. “Some drunk dude is already staring at me in a way that makes me wanna punch him seven ways to Sunday.” His tone was literally sky rocketing from annoyed to absolutely angry, and it amused the cup.
“Come on. Told ya it suits you!” He snickered back and snatched two champagne glasses from a man walking with a tray around the main area. “You need to keep it up. Lock in,” takes a sip, while offering the other glass to his brother “The faster we get her, the faster we can get out of here and get the greenies. P is late on his payments again anyways.“
Mugman knew he was right: both with how fast and smooth they could deliver this hit, and with the fact the Don is late with his payments on past STARS’ staff hits. The man had a burning hate for them, but he sure was not bleeding out the greenies Cuphead so desperately wanted. When Mugs looked around the room, trying to find Mrs. Duck, his brother was already gone to the nearest roulette table. Classic. After all, the guy basically gambled their should to the Devil 20 years ago. Who says he’s gonna say no to loosing a couple hundred bucks tonight?
But at least he spotted her, in the back of the saloon, alone at a table, the lights almost avoiding her in a way. Even after all these years she would still sit alone, close to herself... Mugman quickly shook his head to brush away the thought. Rule no. 1 to being a hitman to hire: no mercy, no empathy. In this world, the ones that care, the ones that hesitate will die. One way or another, they will; and he knew better than to hesitate. Having his brother’s suit jacket on allowed him to carry the demon’s touch easier.
“Come on, Mugsy. You can do this: in and out. Aaaaaand don’t forget your brother by the betting tables.”
He slowly made his way closer to the table Mrs. Duck was seated at but not directly, not to attract any unwanted attention from people. Especially since Department of Justice and Department of Defense were present tonight. And let’s just say he still has that scar on his arm from one of Sonic’s bullets. Or Shadow. He couldn’t care less about who shot him that early spring morning.
He tried to make small talk with other people, trying to give the impression of being social – he was not. He was dying inside, and if his handle needed to hear another woman talk about how hard it is to handle their men, he would flip out and spike all those men’s drinks. Not a girl’s girl, but close enough one could guess.
“What was your name again?”
“Mugcake, Mugcake Tupper-” He didn’t even know where that came from. He didn’t really thought of a good second life identity, but... he just blurted it out in that strained overly forced woman’s voice.
“Nice to meet you- must be hard for you too huh? You look tired”
Tired he was. But he’d never admit that, especially to some stranger dame who he has to talk to only not to seem like a weirdo that sticks out like a sore thumb. “Oh, I’m just more of a morning person.” The most common and boring excuse of an excuse anyone who pulled an all nighter the night before comes up with. After a few more exchanges of casserole recipes and ways to hide happy pills in cookie jars to take when your kids are still home; he managed to slip past the group and inch closer to the furthest table in the corner.
The woman sitting there was alone, slowly drinking from a glass of Sidecar, the velvety ribbon on her hat tilting left and right, up and down with each move of her head – hat that was already tipped downward, like she was avoiding people on purpose. But since it wasn’t a single table, there was another chair, empty, and an untouched glass of Old Fashioned throned on top of a napkin. Usual sign the person who used to sit there was deceased. But mugman ignored that, and decided to play dumb. “Good evening, miss... uhh, I hope I don’t interrupt.”
With a low humm, quiet and a voice raw like it was rarely used anymore, she spoke “I don’t know you. Saw you chatting up with some bunch after your brother left to gamble,” She looked up, directly at Mugs “I’m right aren’t I?”
“H-how-” He almost broke character and cursed himself mentally for it
“Oh I saw the way you two talk. Good play getting in, doll. Your fake voice is almost convincing too. But there aren’t many calix type toons in this town, and I am not as stupid as some people think.” Shit, shit shitshitshit-! The hag caught them!
Despite all odds and everything being out on the table, Daisy Duck dared snicker and stand up. “Come on, let’s go to the ladies room. Company...” Ah yes... he was going to get shot in a ladies restroom. But if she pulls out her gun, he’d just have to charge up his fingers and counterattack. He’s good at that, he’s good at dodging. He’d be safe if anything happens. The walk to the bathroom was not long, not short; but the fact the duck toon knew the truth and they still had to keep appearances... apoke a lot. And once inside, she blocked the doorway with a trashcan that sat near the sinks area for disposed handtowels.
“How were you going to take me out, hmm?”
“Demon’s touch in your drink. Almost fast enough to kill you before I’d grab my brother and leave.” Might as well go with the truth at the moment. What use was there in hiding it. He even took out the small pack and gently smacked it against the glossy surface of the bathroom island. “Listen-”
“No... I know who sent you. And I want to tell you,” she hesitates for a moment, looking at the powder in the small bag. She knew the day will come for her too. She knew Don P was going after her as Madame Minnie-... She closed her eyes and let out a heavy sigh that held years of grief for both her husband and her friend. “I won’t stop you. But I want one last wish.”
Rule no.1: no mercy, no empathy.
“When me and Minnie were younger I used to do her makeup for her singing gigs.”
Rule no.1: no mercy, no empathy.
“And since your makeup lookes like shit, Let me do it.”
Rule no.1: no mercy, no empathy.
“Why?” He asked confused, and clearly battling with his own “morals” and rules at the moment.
“Because I’d be damned if I let a lady walk around with busted up marker ink instead of makeup,” She pulls out a small purse from her coat “I don’t care if you’re from butt-no-where country side. Alright? Even men in drag need to be up to par...” She slowly opened the purse and took out some wet wipes “Drag up, farm boy!“
Rule no. 2: honour last wishes.
Mugman exasperatedly groaned and let his shoulders slump, looking at the short duck toon like she already went insane. But who knows; maybe the poor woman did go mad with grief. Who was he to question the sanity of his and his brother’s hits when they themselves were already too deep into the gutter. “Alright... be it your way, Mrs. Duck.”
“I just want to see Donald again...”
He almost folded at that, but he knew better than to walk out of a hit. He learned from his past mistakes. Seeing the confrontation on his face, she smiled. Genuinely smiled for the first time in years and slapped the wipe on his face and rubbed off the markers with careful hands. “Today I fed some stray cats near 2nd Black Rue. Two orange cats, a bit chubby. They are really nice fellas that purr and meow the second they see someone walk up to them with kibble.” Oh, for fucks sake! He needs to sit through another round of women talk.
Once his face was all cleaned, Daisy took out some eyeliner. “Look up, it’s easier that way,” and hummed when he did so. “They’re just the sweetest little things, you know? Have you had pets before or something similar?”
“Back when we lived with grandpa, me and my brother had a pet fish. We named her SS Underwater Tank-” She laughs again at that, the name was intentional. He wanted to see how she’d react. “Kidding, it was Ristretto. She had a good life with gramps back in the hut. Now he’s taking care of Espresso, some other goldfish.”
Meanwhile, her hands were diligently working on contouring his tear lines. And props to him, he didn’t even flinch. Some ladies might have problems with it, but here he was, some jacked Collector, in drag, maybe for the first time not even flinching. “Oh, that’s cute~ Me and Donald didn’t really have pets after we married. We pet sat a lot though. Work kept us too busy for that-” and she switched to the other eye, carefully.
“Yeah....? And how was Donald?”
“He was... kind. He fought in the war with a heart. He never ended an already wounded soldier’s life. He said it wasn’t fair. People on both sides respected him for that.” The she takes out a soft purple-ish powder and rubbed a finger on it, then gently dabbed the hue under the eye, where she’d guess a mug would have cheekbones. “And even before, he took care of his nephews like they were his children, went to children’s hospice homes... He was a good man.”
“I bet.... he sounds a lot like our grandpa. He also faught in the war, even if he was a bit old, and returned with a shiny medal for first aiders-”
“Your grandfather... was he a Gold Hand?”
“I think so...” He mumbled “We’re from the calix amani, so healing people’s souls isn’t that hard for us, if we are taught how to do it.”
She patted his shoulder as she wiped her hands clean of the blush. “He’d be proud you still hold on to honour during your hits. I sure am, even if you killed my favourite circus troope” She attempted a joke, as she scavenged her purse for that one lipstick that seemed to always shift in and out of existence at may. And when she found it, she grabbed his face not-so-gently. “Don’t talk. Stretch your lips- oh right.... you don’t have any”
She carefully applied the rouge in a lip shaped way around his mouth. “You know, you calixes really are lucky. Your faces are very customizable.” “Shut up, hag!” “I said, don’t talk.”
And a few minutes later, his look was finished, though he didn’t dare look into the mirror. He felt guilty. He almost forgot why he was here in the first place. “So,” Mrs. Duck’s voice snaps Mugman our of his little trance “How... h-how painful is this... Demon’s touch?”
“Pretty damn agonizing for the first 2 seconds. Then it kills your entire nervous system. I could always just shoot you if you’d prefer that.”
“Too loud, Jes’ would be on your tail in seconds.”
She was right. Red almost got them one too many times and they really needed the money too. “What is I take a double dose?” “Let’s find out-”
Before he could react and grab the pouch from the island, she did. She was small, but fast for an old toon like herself. “Run... Don’t look back. Grab your brother and leave... stat.” He didn’t argue, and left before he could hear the last of her prayers and apologies to all her loved ones. The less he heard, the less he’d nightmare about it tonight. He didn’t run, he wasn’t stupid: he would’ve attracted attention.
Mugman made a beeline for the roulette table where Cuphead still was trying to win back his looses. “Bank angle.” and, like a soldier at the hear of “At ease-” Cuphead first tensed, then sat up fast and bolted after his brother, people screaming in the background. They found her body already.
“Shit! Mugs, what the hell?! You didn’t wait for me?”
“You were in too deep, idiot. Had to finish the mission!”
They ran faster than they ever did, making it back home in one piece only by pure luck. How did no one chase after them... Then Mugman realised: “They thought it was suicide!” He shouted in half exhaustion and a sick kind of happiness. “Suicide.... the bathroom, it was drugs. Genius duck!”
His brother agreed, going to the kitchen to grab those now even staler pretzels “Yeah? Cool. Wait.... you look different.” “Her last wish was to do my makeup. Sentimental bullshit”.
“And you still did it.” Mugman nodded and then- “Purple doesn’t suit you, little bro-”
_____________________
The next morning, at 6 am, still sleepy, Mugman was walking down town, to 2nd Black Rue, until he heard a small meow. Soft, sleepy... and went towards it. He placed an already opened can of tuna and one of sardines down on the pavement near a trashcan and cats suddenly appeared, nibbling away at the fish. Their tails trembled slightly at the new taste as they were used to kibble and maybe some old meat thrown from the windows.
| Fandom : MOTM (orig.: @myth-of-the-machine)
|| Pairing : Mugman x Bendy
||| Warnings : minor injury
After discovering the truth about Bendy’s past, the unfortunate ‘team’ had to go through some more restricted areas of the Isles. Toontown was far, far away now and there was no going back now. Seeing old posters of him and Dandy, Bendy felt this old, eerie shiver running down from his neck, down his back all the way to the tip of his pointy tail. “This is bullshit-” Boris barked out “that traitor ain’t deserving you. Let alone be in the way of the machine.” He was right, the demon knew his brother spoke the truth, as his old stage partner was borderline traitorous – pushing him away from the spotlight to become the sole Star.
“So? Where now, Bendy?” Mugman asked, placing his bag on the ground, the impact making a very cranky cup ghost get out of the thermos in the bag and bicker with him. The scene would’ve been somewhat funny, heartwarming even if not for the fact one of them was dead, body shattered in pieces somewhere in the woods. Well... the head anyways. “Shut up for 5 minutes-” Then turns to the demon again, his porcelain head clicking slightly when it grazed with the buttons from the coat. “Talk-”
That wasn’t a question, nor a plea, nothing else than an order. Well, he’ll be damned if he takes order from the cups. “Tone it down, blue boy. Your brother obeys me, so I’d really be behaving if I were you before making him ballet step into a soul searcher!” He snapped. He rarely did so, but when he did, everyone would shut up. Even in the past, on stage; he was supossed to be the merry and cute one, but backstage when Dandy kept pushing his luck... “We split. Boris, you and Mr. Casper the Ghost stay back, you’re liabilities. Me and-” “That’s like the worst thing-! Have you never watched a horror movie, dancer? Splitting up is the worst thi-” “Shut up” And Cuphead did shut up, part from their deal and part because arguing with the shorter ink man was basically useless at the moment.
“I hate to agree with a ghost of a Collector,” the mutt jumped in, his gaze still darting from wall to wall, taking in the posters, the graffiti, the curses- “But do you believe splitting would do any good, Bens?” Even his own brother was second guessing his resolve – bullshit. All of this! He is the only one who can see the map, he’s the one who should be boss. Right? Right! Bendy had none of their shit and grabbed Mugman and just went deeper into the corridor. At least he listened, at least he didn’t fight him over his choices like some people did... or maybe it was because he was tired, blackened bags under his eyes and his head almost running empty... But he couldn’t go alone, and Cuphead was dead, and Boris was hurt too badly. Sure, he could’ve used the deal with Cuphead to shoot with magic out of his fingertips, but it burned his skin, blistering it. He wasn’t made for it and so chose not to overuse it.
“So... you used to be a dancer?” The tall collector tried to make conversation as they continued to walk, breaking the silence and monotony that only their footsteps set on the tile paved ground. With only receiving a nod, Mugman continued “Why did you stop? You could’ve secured your and your brother’s future, maybe even get better treatment for your blot-” He was rambling, not really meaning to anger the ink demon on his like choices or anything. Usual older brother behavior – Bendy knew all too well.
“My partner said there was no place for someone like me on the stage and pushed me away.”
“I’m sorry”
“It’s fine, it’s his loss anyway. I’ll become the best inventor in Toontown and show him I’m better off without him. And that he’s nothing.”
They continued to walk until hitting a dead end, the only thing found there being a hatch in the ground. Once they managed to open it, Mugman crouched right beside it and flashed his flashlight into the hole to check if there was anything worth going in for. The shallow tunnel that formed looked too unwelcoming with all kinds of twists and turns that blocked light – and so, blocked their vision. There were stories about catacombs in the forest, deep within the foliage; excavation sites uppon excavation sites trying to forage for a cure.
The map must be wrong at this moment, because this sites were long closed by the Health Department after some toons even lost their life trying to forage, leading to mediated scandals and small riots against the Stars. Maybe that’s why there were posters at the sites; angry rioters wanted to send a message: Dandy knows something, and doesn’t want to talk.
“Dead end,” Mugman finally turned off the flashlight and stood up, dusting himself off. “you’re insane if you think we’ll go in-” He cut himself short seeing Bendy already taking out 4 tire rope out a survival kit and tying it around his waist. “Did you not hear me? It’s dangerous, Bendy.” The words of the older Collector fell on deaf ears as the demon continued with blinded desperation.
“Listen here, Mugfreak. You aren’t the one literally melting from the inside. Either help me or fuck off.”
Desperation, anger, fear... Mug’s been there before together with his brother and so he does not judge – or tries not to judge when someone is slowly melting down and becoming more cynical with others. It wasn’t his fault; the demon was clearly in pain both physically and emotionally. Desperation, that one sleeve of hope someone might cling to makes them not realize the way the change. Wehn him and his brother first bet their souls to the Devil, 20 years ago-... He shook his head, not wanting his mind to slip there.
“Alright, I’ll ease ya in. Tag thrice if you need me to pull you out ok?”
At first, Bendy was surprised that the cup brother allowed- no... helped him with this insane plan. No sane person would actually go into a dark unknown place headfirst and clearly underequipped. After a couple self-men-ups and trying to convince himself that he can do this and he’s going to be alright.
With a flashlight in his tail and the rope tightly secured to his waist, Bendy slowly descended into the tunnel. Mugman was keeping the rope wrapped around his arms tightly giving in very small amounts to the demon as he got deeper, slowly losing himself in the tunnel. He didn’t want the rope to snap or if Bendy fell, the tunnel collapsing or- why did he care? Bloodshot eyes and an almost empty out of ‘soul juice’ (as his brother often put it), the Collector’s senses were greatly diminished. He wasn’t just tired, no. He nearly ran himself dead in that forest trying to kill Boris, then the searchers. He knew the mutt will never let it slide.
Mugman didn’t know how much time had passed, but the slight needle pain in his calves told him enough passed without him moving. The fact there wasn’t much rope left either made him stress over the safety of the demon. ‘He’s the only one who can read the map... No other reason’, he tried to reason with himself. And then a tug, silent. Another tug, a moment- tug tug tug tug. His body moved before his brain could register what happened, reeling Bendy in like his grandfather reeled in fishes he caught in the rivers near the old hut.
Then he heard it “Searcher nest! Searcher nest!” He wanted to run away and leave him there all alone, but he knew better than abandoning a teammate. Whether he liked it or not, now they were all going against this together. They needed to work together to find the Machine. With a storm of roars and inhuman screeches trailing behind him, Bendy emerged from the hole in the ground with multiple scratches and bruises from being pulled out and smashed against the walls of the tunnel.
Barely did the demon manage to get out that a searcher found the hatch opening and tried to close in to them. With a loud band, Mugman closed the door to the tunnel hatch “Run! Get the others! I’ll try to seal it.” “Are you insane? You can’t do it alone.” But there was no use arguing with the Collector when he put his mind to something. The searched that caught their scent was hitting it’s mangled body into the hatch with such strength that it broke the rotten wood of the hatch door. It groaned in their faces, the putrid stench of decay and sulfurs travelled to their noses in an instant.
The searcher launched forward and grabbed at Mugman’s arm, claws digging into him. The Collector could only shout out in pain trying to break free; using his powers now could be too dangerous. Way too dangerous. The searcher groaned again and-
.
.
.
Bendy grabbed a discarded wood panel and swung it into the mouth of the searcher, sending it staggering down the tunnel like a kicked puppy, giving them enough time to look at each other and ask themselves: what the fuck just happened and more importantly, how are we still alive at this point.
The demon noticed something on Mugman’s arm (the sleeve shredded by the claws of the searcher), other than blood – blue. A deep navy blue pattern on his arm that seemed too intricate to be a scar or anything really. Upon questioning it, Bendy was met only by an uninterested shrug and a small mutter from the taller man. But he could still clearly make out what he said.
“What the- you have a tattoo? Why didn’t you say anything about it?”
“Huh?”
Did this mother fucker just have the audacity to huh him like in some very bad romcom movie?! A deafened sound of the searchers still lurking underneath, deep into the catacombs made the two men decide it was better to continue this conversation later, when they reunited with their younger siblings. They quickly ran out from the excavation site, blocking the entrance with fallen branches and stones; giving them the false impression it might stop the searchers from coming back up.
Going back the same oddly neat paved alley that mimicked a corridor and rejoined their siblings in useless banter.
__________________________________
With a now a makeshift bandage of longgrass and birch sap wrapped around the wound on his arm, Mugman was staying with Bendy and Cuphead into their meeting spot as Boris was gone somewhere to gather some more firewood. “So, are we gonna talk about it?” the demon started to talk first, breaking the silence
“Talk about what, demon?”
“Your tattoo?”
That quirked Cuphead’s interest and made him snicker. “Dude, broski, fratello... You told him about your tat?”
Being cornered by both his brother’s taunts and Bendy’s odd interest, the elder twin cup had no choice but to tell them
We were 15, and we were still running some errands for an ex boss of course, collecting different contracts of debtors to the Devil. To pass the time, and to make it more bareable between the constant death, rebirths and wounds that seeped through our porcelain, we made a bet.
Whomever got the most contracts by midnight will make the other do something as punishment
However much I tried, I managed to only score 2 contracts that day, Cuphead beating me by 2 more and some extra coin that not even Satan knew where he got it. But he won fair and square. Back then I was scared of needles so my brother thought it might be a wonderful idea to make me get a tattoo on one of my arms. He chose the pattern actually- “And it looks good-” Beside the point.
.
.
.
“Cuphead teased me for years for making it blue too” Mugman continued, not really expecting the demon to still be listening to him.
“Blue ink suits you best anyways... it’s hot”
Excuse you?!
| Fandom : MOTM – original creators : @myth-of-the-machine, @flygutzz, @nortsauce
|| Pairing : Mugman x Boris (MugMutt)
||| Warnings : minor character death if you squint your eyes and jump on one leg during a full blue moon (searchers lol), tons of mentions of blood because boris needs to eat ok?! Filthy boys. Sex? NO MERCY WE DIE LIKE BETAS
After finding out his brother made a deal with one of the Collectors, Boris has been very stressed. Yes, Mugman and Cuphead now knew that Bendy had the ink illness, but the last thing he needed now was for himself to getting caught in something he really shouldn’t.
“Bendy, are you insane?! You did this without asking me?”
Of course he did; the demon was a very free spirit that did most things however he wanted without a consequence in the world because Boris spoiled him and protected him all their lives. At least until now. Yet, seeing the look on the older twin’s face when the soul of his brother was chained to the demon and dragged around – he saw that look before and he did not like it one bit. Whenever someone with that look, Boris had to make some excuse to quit his day-by-day job, grab his brother and bolt out of the town sector they were in before getting impaled by a garlic coated sharpstick.
Not that it would’ve actually work, it was all superstitions, but it still hurt like hell and the mutt did not want another set of wounds on top of the ones he’s got from the very trigger happy mug-shape headed Collector. His tail wagged nervously waiting for a sign of something, but all he got was an arrogant scoff from the demon and an exasperated “You did what...?!” from Mugman. One should guess older siblings and younger siblings had the same dynamics regardless of families.
The current threat, the growls woke them from their sibling quarrels and in one quick motion, they all ran into the woods following the map – what was supposed to be the map? Boris still had his reservations since the empty old paper gave him little hope of the stories being true. If they were true, why did the Stars not find it until now, not have discovered the Ink Machine and cured everyone forever! He let out a growl as they all continued to run, his hunger slowly creeping in. He needed to feed soon, they were too far from the city.
The horrifying howls kept following them, the soul of Cuphead urging them to keep going, keep trying to grab at it. Deformed limbs smashed against ground and trees and bushes in desperate attempts to advance, putrid bones cracking under the weight of inky flesh, groans of pain and desperation fed for years since the blot. Boris looked back, made the mistake of looking back and saw a mutt-like searched screeching as it tried to run after them. Somehow, it would’ve been comical to see how fast these deformed piles of blood and bone moved through the forest. The searched closed in maybe a bit too close to Boris, but thankful enough, it did not watch out and smashed it’s head into a lower tree branch with an uncomfortable crunch. It gave one more weak, painfull roar as it died in that spot.
“I think we’re safe now. I can’t hear any more searchers” Mugman managed to blurt out between ragged breaths, a hand resting on a tree trunk as he slouched over slightly. Bendy fell to his knees, exhausted and Boris soon joined him, checking if his brother was alright or was going to have another episode. Thankfully though, they were all going to be alright... Except the elephant – or rather ghost – in the forest. “Cuphead, hide in my flask; Bendy, Boris: help me set up camp.”
“Hold your horses,” Bendy protested, tired, not bothering to sit up from the ground “who and since when did you become our leader?”
“Me and since now, demon.”
“Last I checked, I’m the only one that can read the map-”
The two continued to bicker as Cuphead decided he got enough adrenaline and though fights for the day and slowly flied to his brother, slipping himself into the half empty flask of moonshine. Boris himself found out a better and more entertaining way to spend the evening: searching all his pockets for that one blood pouch he stole last week from a blood donation clinic down-town. He huffed as he double-searched, tripple-checked but it was not there. The mutt knew it was supposed to be there, he was keeping it for longer.
He most likely lost it during the small chase with the searchers. “Shit-” He cursed under his breath, trying to keep calm. Now why was the wolf so stressed about loosing a pack of blood he stole? Did he not eat? Did he not just gluped down 3 cold beers in that bar he and Bendy went to meet with the adventurer? BOris had a condition- no, that was not a very good name for it. He was born this was, just as Bendy was a demon, he was a blood-drinking wolf. That’s what you get from a werewolf and a vampire trying to have a kid, I guess.
His tail wagged furiously behind him trying to find a solution, some type of way he could get his hands on some blood. Toontown was already too far away, and the most known path at the moment was plastered with searchers that lurked around Cuphead’s dead body most likely, waiting for the soul to try and return so they could catch it for themselves. And then there was his brother. Albeit Bendy has offered his blood many times to the mutt, Boris refused because his brother was already weak from the sickness and did not want to aggravate his state; or worse...
Now, there was also- “Boris, please take your brother off me-!” -Mugman. Though, the Collector would never agree to help him with his bloodthirst considering they were trying to off each other 2 hours ago. Maybe Mugman wanted it more than him, but still, they weren’t friends. There is a reason why Boris stole blood. NO, not money- his mind was racing as he peeled a very feral Bendy off the mug – but because people really didn’t like vampirism. Anyone who either converted to vampirism or was born into it was viewed as a pariah, even lesser than a demon or searcher.
This was going to be a very long night for the newformed crew
-------------
With camp somewhat half-way set, a small pitfire made in the center of mossy makeshift beds (basically just branches covered in moss and leaves), some powder glowing a soft pink sprinkled across by Mugman to ‘keep the searchers away’, now all they had to do was get someone to stand watch as the others slept. With a Collector out of commission, and one sleep deprived, stressed and overworked; with a brother sick and struggling to keep on holding to a belief that no one thought might come true, Boris found himself the first one to stand watch that night.
He played with the charred wood in the firepit with a long, slightly wet stick, turning the firey chunks around over and over and over, trying to pass the time, and to get his mind off the feeling in his stomach that was building up rather quickly. The same cold, dreadful feeling he had whenever he went too long without a pint of blood – fresh or took out 2 months ago and kept in a lowly fridge, he didn’t care. All he cared was that he got his fill for the day. And it just so happens that the hunger grows larger whenever he fights goons or runs from district to sector to anything. Tonight he did all of those combined.
“You look down, pup. What’s up?”
“The sky. Can’t sleep, magic mug?” There was no genuine bite to his words, the exchange feeling more like a friendly banter between two colleagues on a camping school trip that were staying up late while everyone was resting. The older cup brother shook his head slightly, sitting up in ‘bed’ with a lazy groan. “Wanna chat-” “We can switch if you want to catch some shut eye, Boris”
Funny. Any day he would’ve taken that offer with not one, but two hands, even begging for it. But now he was one shiver away from pouncing on the other man and biting down on his leg, or arm, that stupid scarf hiding his beautiful, veiny neck- Boris shook his head slightly, like he was answering the question. But he was trying to keep himself in check. “Can’t either” A lame excuse, but it bought up a bit of trust.
Both watched the fire, listening to it’s unrhythmic crackling under the starless night sky, the sound accompanied by a lonely cricket, a hunting owl hooting in the distance and daring the searchers to take it and the rich musky smell of dry burnt chestnut wood on the fire. Boris took a deep sniff near the fire, the scent grounding him more and more, he thought. The calm night was easing his instincts, he thought. The facade quickly broke when Mugman sat up muttering something about going to gather more wood for the fire just in case. He doesn’t remember how it happened, when it happened-
Boris quickly perked up his ears, tail stood still behind him pointing into the black of the forest. Then, he pounced. He was always a big boy, now an even bigger man, a mutt staggering above others. Bringing someone down was not difficult; now let’s also add the fact that he is starved, he is craving the neck of the man in front of him and he just can’t help himself. Mugman had no time to react as 200 pounds of rabid dog brought him back onto the makeshift bed, keeping him there.
Pinned to the bed, Mugman tried to shout at Bendy for help, but the wolf-mutt was all too fast clasping a clawed paw over his mouth. “Listen here, porcelain. Move an inch and I will shatter your head just like I did with your useless brother-” So much for morals, as it was clear Boris forgot about Morals when he was hungry. “Understood, sugar?” He nodded, the only thing the collector could do at the moment was nod and play along, his and his brother’s guns foolishly tucked away under the mossy blanket.
“Calm down-” He tried to muffle against the paw, only to earn a growl from the man above him – a growl so animalistic it could match the one of an ancient searcher from 7 decades ago. He couldn’t help himself but let out a small whimper when Boris’ free hand tugged at his scarf “Off... before I tare it from you.” And so the mug quickly shuffled his scarf off, feeling the grip on him loosen, loose completely, and instead the wolf straddled his lap, strong legs on either side of his hips, keeping him from moving.
“Do not make a sound. I’ll try to be gentle”
Gentle?! Was he insane? Batshit crazy? Up until now this man has been anything but gentle. Mugman had no time to shot him a snarky comeback, as he felt the other’s hot breath on his neck and a long, torturous lap going up from his collarbone to the rim of his head.
“You taste like moonshine and cappuccino...”
“Tsk, you perv- ahh!” He tried to cut his own shout short as Boris bit down hard on his neck, not to leave a hickey as Mugman thought, but to puncture the skin and begin to suck out blood not so gently. “B-boris- cut it out!” Oh but he wasn’t stopping. He found his little fountain of honey-dew A- blood and he was going to enjoy every drop it gave before the 2 minutes were up.
Two minutes is all Boris allowed himself to take from another person whenever he had the trust from someone to drink directly from their blood flow. Nothing more, sometimes less. Who would’ve thought that the blood from someone within the Calix Amini would taste so sweet, the fragrance, the sweet and salty – Boris quickly stopped, switching to laping at the wound he made on Mugman’s neck. “For the Celestials-! Please slow d-down-” He wasn’t going to. The piercing depth of his fangs was horrifying and if helped not that he was a wolf, his canines and bite much larger and stronger. At least the saliva he secreted had an enzyme that helped close wounds faster. This is the main reason he never killed his sources, aside from feeding for a short time.
Two minutes was all it took for Boris to get his fill, his pupils dilating slightly, shoulders slumping and nearly falling on top of the poor Collector he just borderline assaulted. “Sorry, I don’t know what got into me... I haven’t fed in a while-” “You’re vampiric...” “Listen, I was born this way.” He snapped at him as if trying to reason in an argument, but the argument never existed in the first place. Instead, he was met by a loud sigh, a pat on the shoulder and a poke from below; that last one, when both realized it, made them dead silent, stop moving against one another and reflect on their poor life choices that led up to this specific point.
“And you called me a perv~”
“Shut up! You were the one straddling me earlier!”
It was a very genuine wonder how the fuck both of their siblings never heard a peep from them, being fast asleep. Bendy was snoring audibly (poor baby) and Cuphead was somewhere in Mugman’s leg bag that was thrown on the other side of camp for some reason. And the mug knew his brother slept like the dead even before being reduced to only a floating soul by the mutt. The same mutt that was still on top of him to this moment. The same mutt that began to wag his tail excitedly, as he trailed a clawed hand gently over the fresh wound. “It’ll scar, I’m sorry. I was too rough.”
In that moment, scaring was the last thing that Mugman really thought about. “Fuck the scar-” “You mean you?” The wolf teased with a cocky laugh, leaning down and pressing Mugman further into the moss bedding, licking at the wound again with a murmur. Leaving out a few low moans from both the fact this man was pressed too tight against him, both their clothed boners rubbing against one another’s, the Collector managed to unbotton a first couple pinbottons from Boris’ shirt. The wolf let out a quiet grown, kept working on the throat of his now-adventuring-partner.
“Keep your hands to yourself, mugsy. I don’t wanna have to pin ya down”
“You already are, Bo- ehhh?!” he was caught off guard by the younger man pressing his muzzle to his mouth. The mug could still taste his own blood on his lips, the taste bitter and metallic; not at all like a vampiric wolf would try to explain it. Hating to admit it, he melted in that kiss, wrapping his arms around his neck and bringing him in closer. That damned tail kept wagging- cute, but also terribly annoying when you’re rock hard and with a still slightly bleeding wound on your neck.
With the strength of a man that tried to save whatever dignity he had left in him – and thanks to the fact Boris was fed and now more behaved – Mugman pushed himself up, throwing Boris off balance, now the mutt being the one pressed on the moss bed and toyed with. “You sucked me, I suck you. Fair?” Before he could react or stop him, the Collector was already working on the belt buckle and annoyingly rough zipper of his trousers that barely and stubbornly unzipped. Then Mugman slowly and reluctantly wrapped a hand around Boris’ already dripping cock. “Your call-” “Wallop, you tease”
That’s all the confirmation someone needs; Mugman crawled lower, his breath hitting the aching, reddened skin, hand teasingly pumping up and down near the base of it. “And to think I wanted to shoot ya dead, Bo~” Finally we took pity on the muttered pleas from Boris and licked his tip. But give a hungry wolf your finger and he’ll go for the throat- Boris reached a hand and grabbed Mug’s handle, pushing him forward, making him take all his length in. He threw his head back and if he wasn’t trying to be quiet for the sake of Bendy and Cuphead, he would’ve howled from the pleasure of finally being with someone else.
“We’re not playing by your rules, sugar~”
And to his surprised, he complied, letting his grip softer and head guided to suck on his cock, the mutt giving upward thrusts from time to time to chase that low humm Mugman did when out of breath.
“Fuck, fucking hell, sugar-!”
One more hip thrust up and roughtly holding his partner by the handle downwards, Boris released in short white spurts that coated the inside of Mugman’s mouth and throat, making him swallow. They stay like that for a short moment before pulling away. The mutt was still panting, the mug was trying to catch his own breath.
“We’re even now”
“Not really~” Boris teased to the still visibly hard shaft in Mugman’s pants.
