Link vs. the Tiku Baba (TK)

Here's a short story adapted from an RP I did with a friend a few weeks back! It was only a matter of time before Link got it lol. Enjoy!

For reference, this is the Breath of the Wild version of the Hero of Hyrule, who's got some pretty cute feet and toes from what I've seen of gameplay screencaps. Ignoring a few details at the beginning, though, you can definitely substitute any of the grown-up versions of him. Every single one of them is equal parts cute and sexy, and there can never be too many tickle artworks or stories of any of them! I'd still like to see more pics and fics of BotW Link tickles, though. ;)


The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild belongs to Nintendo.

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Link vs. the Tiku Baba

by Skaea

Contains: */M tickling, feet and all over. SFW.

Word Count: 2,612

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“Goddesses, I didn’t sign up for this…” Link grumbled to himself, working his way through the thick, tall grass in one of the forests dotting Hyrule’s landscape… It was mildly annoying to work with, but it was better than bokoblins everywhere. Not that this was saying much, of course, considering that he had to travel for practically hundreds of miles, on foot, in search of the next temple. If this was going to keep up, he’d all but lose his mind!

It had been a very long time since his last, scattered memories of this land, and much had changed since his hundred-year slumber. He had no memory of what exactly had led him to this, why he existed in this largely untamed land, or why he had a weird urge at one point to simply venture out into the wilderness without any clothing save for his shorts and set everything on fire. All he knew was that he had some kind of purpose here, a purpose that had been given to him by someone else, someone powerful.

Whatever it was, though, it certainly wasn’t cutting grass for hours at a time. That was getting very boring very fast, and he was extremely footsore on top of that. He needed both a bit of relaxation and a bit of excitement, whichever came first.

This particular section of the wilderness, the one he was trying to soldier his way through, was thick with tall stems and blades hard enough to leave quite a nasty cut. But what he wasn’t aware of, at least not yet, was that sometimes the grass took on a life of its own. A strange kind of magic made it move, presumably to slice anyone who stepped in it to ribbons – but one particular patch nearby didn’t have hard enough leaves for that. Its effects on intruders were just as curious, however…

Encounters With Feather Flusters (TK)

 

Here it is, my first mini-story compilation! The stories presented all take place in the same fantasy setting, which I'll definitely revisit in the future; they're also all technically co-writes, starting out as roleplays with other people who're in the loop regarding said server. Not much else to say, so enjoy~! :)

I'm also the founder of a Discord server with this setting in mind, and if you want to join, the invite is below. We can always use more people, since we have at least 60 thus far!

Heroes and Hysteria server: discord.gg/pAmmK7F
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The forests of Silva Insanire are a lush, vibrant sea of green, interspersed with flecks of color and flashes of movement from all manner of elusive life. Beautiful but deadly, their boughs conceal many things that have the potential to ensnare any luckless traveler and subject them to a maddening torment that could turn even the strongest and most tenacious of men and women into helpless, giggling wrecks. Oddly enough, though, one of its most notorious inhabitants is in fact an invasive species. Originally native to the southern jungles, it was exported to other regions as an exotic pet and soon began to establish feral populations, banding together to form groups that could wreak havoc on anyone who dared to intrude upon their turf. Thriving on the abundant seeds and insects in Silva Insanire, they now add yet another danger to the many, many risks one may face upon penetrating these dark woods. Mimics can be broken out of, hydras fought, and krakens avoided, but from these creatures, there is no escape. Even the bravest of heroes know to steer clear, for those who cross them, even by accident, do so at their own peril…

Settle It In Smash (TK)

“He’s Really Feeling It!” by Tickleforyou

Here's a tickle story I found lying around my Tumblr and DeviantArt profiles, and adapted to something that's more recognizable than the original. It's another Smash Bros. tickle fic, but originally it... wasn't. The characters that were originally featured are part of the in-universe setting of a nearly two-decade-old writing project I joined a few years back and have produced writing for since, but since the original version requires context, I figured it'd be better to replace the characters with their actual canon inspirations, since given how they originated it's not that big a step. If you want to see the original and know more about the OCs in question, it can be found here (on my DeviantArt) or here (my Tumblr, requires an account to view though).

I referenced goomyspawn’s headcanons about the WFTs for Miss Trainer's tickle spots and her reactions to being tickled in this fic, so kudos to them for the inspiration! Go check out their Tumblr, it's got some adorable tickle headcanons and fics. This fic, incidentally, also contains the first significant /F tickle scene I've ever written, but since the trainers are interchangeable, I suppose you can easily imagine the male Trainer in the female's place with a little mental editing. XD Anyway, I hope you enjoy this as much as I did making (and editing) it!

Super Smash Bros., Xenoblade Chronicles, and Wii Fit belong to Nintendo.

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Settle It In Smash

by Skaea
Contains: F/M and M/F tickling, feet and upper body. SFW.

Word Count: 3,249

 
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“GAME!”

“WHAAAAAAaaaaaaat?! Miss Trainer, you cheated! You totally cheated!!”

Shulk couldn’t believe what had just happened, and he was quite sure that his partner had set him up for two reasons. First, it was the female Wii Fit Trainer’s idea to set up a series of three-stock matches, best two out of three. And second, the third match had used the Skyworld stage… which meant that the wielder of the Monado had swan-dived into the void while using his side special with every single stock, unable to land even a single hit on his roommate.

“What do you mean?” the trainer said with a soft chuckle. “I was playing fairly, and I certainly can’t hack this setting to save my life.”

“B-but you—”

“I know. I beat you, fair and square. What did you think it looked like?”

The poor Homs could only sulk. “So much for what I said about beating you with both hands tied…”

“Remember, we had a deal — whoever loses has to do whatever the other asks for the rest of the—”

“THE BET’S OFF! NO BETS! I TAKE IT BA—”

“You didn’t say anything about a bet. I did. And you more or less agreed to it, so…”

Shulk couldn’t argue with that. Instead, he hung his head and sighed. “Looks like I’m gonna have to clean up our room, aren’t I?”

She looked around to notice him . A thought occurred to her just then.

“Actually, before you get to work… I want to try something.”

He looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“I’ve been thinking of expanding my workout routine for a while now, but I wasn’t sure about going out to find any potential volunteers. They aren’t as fond of it as I am, really. I hope you’re open to the suggestion, seeing as you’re my partner now.”

“What, you want me to do fifty-one push-ups instead of just fifty?” he asked.

She chuckled softly. “It’s a bit more complicated than that. And don’t worry, I won’t go that intense. Not in that way.”

He raised an eyebrow again. “What do you want me to do, huh?”

She smiled a little wider. “Why, help me test out my new method, of course!”

Cold Feet (TK)

"Frosted Over" by Digi-runner

I usually try to make it a point to post around two stories per month, though I haven't succeeded consistently; releasing just one story in a month due to real life scheduling concerns leaving me with little time to write makes me feel a little bummed out, though. I also wanted to do more tickling stories to balance out the darker, more graphic fetish writings of mine, especially light and fluffy ones like this one. The above pic was commissioned by me from an artist on DeviantArt who has since vanished off the face of the Internet for reasons unknown, but it's still one of my absolute favorites and I wanted to write a story for it for a long while, so I repurposed another one I had on the backburner on a whim. I quite like how it turned out!

Rise of the Guardians is one of my favorite productions from DreamWorks Animation, and rather underrated as far as this studio's filmography is concerned. Although the look that Jack Frost has in the movie isn't quite as evocative as some of the other characters, I can see why he's so popular and I do really like him subjectively, if only because he's barefoot all the time. I highly recommend seeing this movie for multiple reasons, and it saddens me that the shoddy marketing for it means we probably won't be getting a sequel without a lot of hard work on the part of the fandom and the author of the books the film was based on. The above picture is one of several commissions of Jack I've ordered over the years, and the original story I'd had planned for it was that he was being tickle-interrogated by Pitch, the villain of the movie, but enjoying it too much to make it worth his time. However, since the story I was repurposing is purely fluff with just a hint of shipping, I decided to put a much sweeter and friendlier spin on the scenario. Besides, the bit with him being tickle-tortured by Pitch has already been implemented in another commission of mine. ;)

Also worth noting is that this story includes the first instance of /F tickling I've written for this blog, and although I'm preferential to guys as bottoms in my kink writing, I may end up writing female 'lees as well in the future. It won't be as often as male subjects, but it'll open up quite a few more ideas for me, so be on the lookout in the coming weeks if you enjoy that kind of subject matter! :D

Rise of the Guardians (c) DreamWorks Animation, based on the Guardians of Childhood series by William Joyce

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Cold Feet

By Skaea

Contains: F/M and a little M/F tickling. SFW.

Word Count: 2,467

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“Hey, Tooth?” the white-haired immortal said with a casual air, drifting down to land next to his fellow Guardian. “I need your help.”

It was a bit of an unexpected request, but he’d figured that if anyone would lend a hand, the Tooth Fairy, the Guardian of Memories, certainly would. She was good with this kind of thing, and was always willing to aid someone in need. Jack Frost, the newly appointed Guardian of Fun, had found her relaxing in the shade of a large tree, with several of her lesser fairies surrounding her and he’d perched on one of the boughs above her when he asked that question.

“Oh, hello, Jack! What is it?” she asked, happy to see his pearly snow-whites once again. Her fairies fluttered up and formed a formation shaped like a heart symbol, swooning at the sight of him.

“You know how you’re good with measurement? I need to know the size of my feet.”

She blinked in surprise. “You don’t know that? Uh…”

“I never really bothered to use a ruler,” Jack laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nobody really thought to give me one.”

“I would…” The feathered spirit smiled uncomfortably, wondering where to begin with this. “Why would you want to know your foot size, anyway?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure someone’s gonna ask eventually. So why not find out the answer for myself?” He sat on the branch, letting his feet dangle freely while the admiring flock of smaller fairies gathered around them.

“Yeah, but I don’t usually use a direct measurement, not even with collected teeth. Proportions do tend to vary from person to person, after all.”

“So, how do you know that? You made a measurement or something?”

“Just come on down and I’ll show you,” she replied, smiling. “Don’t worry, I won’t bite!”

Mourning Wood (CBT, Sounding)

This story was intended as the proper debut of my dryad character Magnolia, who was previously seen in "Tree Plugger". That previous fic was completed before this one, though, being based on an RP from the BB Fanatics Discord server; this one is also the product of an RP, but it took quite a bit longer to complete thanks to scheduling difficulties on the part of both myself and my co-writer. We only managed to get it finished last night, but I'm glad we managed to do so in the end. :)

The scenario that befalls poor Calix here is one of my personal favorite CBT fantasies, and major kudos go to my fellow author/roleplayer for helping me bring it to life and also granting the blessing for me to post the story on this blog. We hope you enjoy our finished work as much as we did writing it!

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Mourning Wood

By Skaea and Jango Harrison

Contains: F/M and */M ballbusting, urethral sounding, and graphic testicular harm. NSFW.

Word Count: 6,559
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It was just after dawn in the remote wooden valley. As the sun rose slowly over the thick vegetation, a young man began to stir in his lonely abode near the heart of the forest. He would wake with the sun every day to begin his hunt for food, water, and any necessary materials that he required.

Calix was no newcomer to the wilderness, and his routine was simple. Find resources, create the tools he needed for survival, and stay out of trouble. The tall and immensely muscular woodsman made himself breakfast as he did every morning without incident, and it was a half-hour afterward when he headed out. Before he ventured into the woods, however, he looked back at his cabin and sighed deeply. A recent storm had damaged his home, leaving a sizable hole in the roof. Today would be more laborious than normal; he would need to collect everything he normally does as well as a fell a tree to repair his small home.

Despite being only in his mid-twenties, the lumberjack was already over six feet in height, powerfully built, and incredibly strong. His chest was large and broad with a healthy coating of brown hair, starkly contrasted by his cleanly shaven face, almost boyish in appearance. He wore a pair of plain blue briefs underneath his blue jeans, and his shirt was a typical red and white plaid with the sleeves kept rolled up and buttoned. After slinging his axe over his shoulder, the broad behemoth set out on his daily quests, following the usual route through the forest that he had traveled for years.

Calix looked around with a slightly disappointed expression, shaking his head after a few moments. The trees around the usual path were nowhere near big enough to provide the needed lumber to fix his cabin, and the ones that had been blown down by the storm were no doubt too small as well. It was time he tried something very, very risky: go off the beaten path in a quite literal sense.

He was aware of the numerous signs that were placed throughout the few regions of the woods that were inhabited by man: “TRUST NOT BEYOND WHAT IS KNOWN”. “PLUNDER THE BACKWOODS AT YOUR OWN PERIL”. “REAP WHAT YOU SOW, SUFFER WHAT YOU DESTROY”. “ONLY YOU CAN PREVENT DEFORESTATION”. And so on and so forth. But at the moment, the need to fix his cabin superseded his obedience of all of these warnings, and it was not like he was going to be harvesting from the more remote areas of the forest for more than one day.

What was the worst that could happen? That was the thought that crossed his mind just before he took a sharp turn away from the path and headed into the forbidden parts of the dark woods.

The forest was a beautiful place to be, with towering redwoods forming a magnificent canopy, beneath them was a veritable garden of beautiful plants, trees, and shrubs. It was a woodsman’s heaven, a whole variety of natural wonders to make use of… which is why there were countermeasures that apparently existed in this particular stretch of woods… not that Calix was aware of it just yet.

Prometheus Busted — Part 5 (CBT)

My heartfelt apologies to you readers for not being able to get this out sooner, in no small part thanks to a very hectic work schedule and several unexpected setbacks with regards to some of my projects - but some late-night inspiration has finally given me the urge to finish this chapter! I'm not as happy with it as some of the previous ones, but that isn't saying much, and I'm glad that I got it published regardless, because I've been looking forward to presenting the new character introduced in it. He's also going to show up in the next chapter as well - or heck, make it the next two, since given the pretty epic story I have planned I might end up making it a two-parter!

As with the previous chapter, this one contains quite a bit of monster violence, but not as intense and horrific as the previous one. Still, between that one and this I wouldn't go skinny-dipping in the ocean at night anytime soon... >;) 

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Prometheus Busted — Part 5

By Skaea

Contains: F/M, M/M, and */M ballbusting, femdom, peril, violence/gore, and graphic castration.

Word Count: 5,911 

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Myrmex of Mattellia, as played by Sam Bond

Chapter 5: Myrmex

This must be the place, Tristan thought, his gaze shifting from the card he was holding to the magnificent sparkling courtyard in front of him, which seemed to have been ripped straight from the cover of some trashy fantasy romance novel. The garden seemed to cover the width of a basketball court, with winding paths flanked by exotic flowers and plant life that looked like it didn’t otherwise exist on Earth. At the center was a massive fountain, with stone-hewn sea monsters shooting torrents of water from their mouths high into the air above it.

In short, the most pretentious place anyone could live in. At least from Tristan’s standpoint, anyway.

But he was not here to scorn the scenery. Taking the shortest route to the front door of the Greco-Roman-styled, almost gilded mansion, he narrowly avoided multiple carnivorous plants on the way, and couldn’t help but notice several varieties of strange insects inhabiting the garden, including a species of ruby-red ant as big as his thumbnail with giant, serrated jaws. He quickly guessed that picnics here were out of the question.

Once he reached the extravagant front porch, Tristan wondered whether it was really worth coming here. But he decided he had nothing to lose, not after his nards had recently detonated thanks to the venom of a monstrous many-headed water serpent. He’d put the head he’d accidentally obtained from it in a plastic bag and put in the backpack he was currently wearing, hoping this ‘Myrmex’ would help him understand it. He doubted someone as rich and snooty as whoever owned this place would lend a hand, though. As usual.

He knocked on the door anyway… and was greeted by a surprise that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

It was as though he was staring down the heroic barbarian protagonist of an 80’s fantasy cartoon. The man was eight feet tall, olive-skinned and blue-eyed, scantily clothed, and so stupendously muscular that his arms alone were the same width as Tristan’s torso. His flowing golden hair went down to his lower back, and was matched by a small goatee on his otherwise smooth, almost marble-hewn face. His forearms and lower legs were covered in furs, with fingerless leather gloves on hands as big as the smaller man’s head and Greek-style sandals over his enormous feet. His only other articles of clothing were two leather straps crossing his chest and a leopard-fur loincloth over his waist… the latter of which just barely failed to conceal the biggest genitalia Tristan had ever seen.

“Oh? Didn’t expect someone to stop by at this hour! Well, hi there!”

Fanart: Prometheus Cat-ptured! (CBT)

This amazing art piece was created by pressingsomebuttons on Tumblr at my request, and I'm positively giddy over how it turned out! Tristan and Chihiro look absolutely fantastic, from the former's (relatively) under-reactive annoyance to the latter's playful grin, and don't get me started on those red-hot knives skewering his junk. Yeowch! There's one more request coming of these two that I'll also post here when it is finished and posted, but I'm enjoying this one very much even if Prometheus most definitely isn't. XD

Speaking of Prometheus, the next chapter of his story should be coming up pretty soon, although I'm struggling with work matters and a bit of writer's block so I may take a while to finish it. I do have a rough idea of how both this and the next chapter will go, though, so be on the lookout for those in the coming weeks!

Original sources:

• https://pressingsomebuttons.tumblr.com/post/175936384512/heres-the-picture-redone-the-owner-requested
• https://pressingsomebuttons.tumblr.com/post/175877152247/well-here-we-got-the-super-villain-chihiro-having

The House on Eastwood Lane (TK, Sounding)

This is the result of a collaborative roleplay I did with ffeettoonn, based on an idea I've had for a while and wanted to put in writing. I don't have much else to say about this story except that it was a true pleasure to work on it with him... in more ways than one, of course. ;) It took quite a bit of investment though so I can't guarantee any follow-ups to it... though I can probably say the same for most of the other stories I've written via roleplay, so it's probably my fault. XD

We hope you enjoy!

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The House on Eastwood Lane

By Skaea

Contains: M/M tickling, including foot and genital tickling, hardcore sex and ejaculation, and mentions of homophobia and murder. NSFW.

Word Count: 11,219
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Eastwood Lane is, for the most part, a quiet neighborhood. It’s also quite nondescript with many of the houses resembling each other as well as most of the other streets of suburbia. If you take a drive through the place you might in fact easily confuse it for some other street, such is its resemblance to the other housing strips north or south, east or west of it. A ho-hum place, all things considered, seemingly only there so people can have a roof over their heads and organize garage sales.

It wouldn’t be on the map at all, in fact, if it weren’t for one small fact. For reasons unknown, no crime whatsoever takes place here, and any attempts at it are doomed to end in complete failure. Everyone seems to get along, and everyone feels safe running up and down the neighborhood even in the dead of night. Why this is the case has been a matter of speculation, but there have been stories of people attempting to rob houses or even attack unsuspecting residents, only to have some bizarre and seemingly nonsensical fate befall them. Strange accidents have gotten them hospitalized and scared out of their wits, though fatalities have been historically rare and only occurred to the most depraved of visitors. The most bizarre part was that in each and every case, there was no sign of anyone aside from the victim and the would-be assailant. At least one such perpetrator was even found, somehow, entangled in tree roots, screaming in terror for the police to take him in and rambling about the plant life actually dragging him away from the very lucky twenty-something he had intended to force himself on that night.

Theories have varied as to what could possibly be protecting the neighborhood, ranging from a super-stealthy group of vigilantes to a secret black-ops unit. But the most outlandish, perhaps, was recently put forward by a group of conspiracy theorists studying the paranormal, their main line of “evidence” being none other than that old decrepit mansion at the end of the lane. It hadn’t been occupied in decades, but amateur investigators had visited it every so often, hoping to confirm the rumors of a certain presence still inhabiting the place. While most people would say that ghosts can’t exist according to the laws of physics, it should be noted that each and every one of the camera-toting explorers who dared to enter the house would never be the same again upon leaving…

Great Balls of Rubber (CBT, ball growth)

You know how some ideas suddenly pop up in your head and keep insisting on you putting them into writing until you finally get off your butt and do it? This is one of them. The character featured has been previously shown only in roleplays on the BB Fanatics Discord, but I've taken such a liking to him that I thought I'd devote a story to him. An origin story, to be specific! I've started becoming a fan of combining busting and hyper genitals and admittedly created this character solely for author appeal with respect to this combo, but never really thought about why he ended up like that until I got this horrible idea. So here it is!
 
Part of the inspiration for this story came from theradicalscrivener on Tumblr, whose hyper stories were a stating point of sorts for the genital growth bits of this story, along with several other BB-related writings I've found around the Internet such as Jonoffen's Invulneraballs. Special thanks to these sources for helping me out with this fic! Also, I'm actually quite proud of myself for managing to get almost all of this piece written in a single night (until like 2 in the morning to be specific!), which is something I can say for very few of my works in general. ...man, I really have to work on my time management skills. XD

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Great Balls of Rubber

By Skaea

Contains: */M ballbusting, violence, peril, and genital growth. 

Word Count: 3,551 

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If one were to look at all the paraphernalia related to Monumentropolis, they would be enchanted by the image of a sparkling, flawless skyline, populated by photogenic heroes and heroines from every type of story you could possibly imagine, usually under either a clear sapphire sky or a breathtaking starlit night. Postcards and novelty t-shirts, however, are not designed to provide an accurate picture of the place they come from, and in fact, many residents of the City Where Stories Begin would be surprised and somewhat annoyed that their home would be portrayed so positively.

The sad truth is that even though any and every resident has the potential to start an adventure of their own, only one citizen in ten will ever be able to achieve public recognition. This ten percent established the steel-hard monopoly on the reputation of Monumentropolis just a few years after it was first founded, and has kept everyone else from gaining ground since then. The stories of the remaining ninety percent, with rare exception, have gone unheard by popular lore… so it really is no surprise, then, that not all of them are as inspiring and charismatic as with the big league heroes and villains.

It was in the media production district of this deceptively dystopic municipality that the former A-list hero, Rex Calibur, began shaping the animation industry with his whimsical cartoons, his “creator” pioneering many techniques that are still used today. Rex was a media darling in the Roaring Twenties, the era of rubber-hose cartoons, and continued his acting career through the Great Depression and well into the Second World War. But sometime during the ‘50s, he suddenly vanished from the public eye. Perhaps it was due to his creator’s difficulties with his staff, or maybe his line of work was simply becoming obsolete. But his abrupt retirement came as a surprise to many, since his future had been looking bright indeed.

If only they knew the true nature of Monumentropolis’ rubber hose folk… Oh, if only they knew…

Prometheus Busted — Part 4 (CBT)

Heyo, everyone! It's been a long while since I last posted a story here, especially since urgent work assignments, a bout of sickness, and other real life things have been keeping me occupied, but I finally managed to get the next chapter of my superhero CBT tale completed after a flash of inspiration! I spent the last two or so chapters fleshing out a character that wasn't Tristan, even though he's the main character of this entire story, so I decided to make up for it with a chapter where he gets the spotlight all to himself. I also wanted to test out just how much abuse he can take, not just directed at his luckless nards but at the rest of him in general. I also wanted to write a CBT scenario I've pictured for a while now: a monstrous creature viciously castrating someone. I tried to write this chapter like a piece of straight-up horror fiction rather than the usual erotica featured on this blog, since although I've written feral animals busting people before, I didn't want to make this story sound like it was featuring beastiality, which I define as a person willingly engaging in inappropriate things with an animal. Maybe I can tolerate a creature having their way with a hapless person, but not if they use their actual genitalia rather than tentacles to do it. I can assure you that there is absolutely no human/reptile sex in this story of any kind. As for traditional monster violence, though... Well, that's another matter altogether.

Tristan's healing ability, while given to him during the development of this project just so he can get brutally castrated over and over without permanent harm, is something I haven't really explored in depth with regards to scenarios involving more standard violence, which is why this chapter is far, FAR more graphic than usual. Yes, you heard me right: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MULTIPLE INSTANCES OF EXTREMELY GRAPHIC VIOLENCE AND BODILY HARM, AND IS NOT SAFE TO READ ON ANY LEVEL IF YOU'RE AVERSE TO GORE. Gosh, I haven't written outright guro in a very long time, and the last time I did so it involved a character from an existing work of fiction getting torn to ribbons. Tristan, of course, is definitely gonna be luckier than that, but not by much. That being said, though, I'll go a bit easier on any part of him that isn't his manhood after this and the next two chapters, since I believe they're more than enough to demonstrate what he's capable of - even if he doesn't know it yet. ;) 

Sadly, the idea of what poor Tristan has to go through in this chapter isn't entirely mine, since it was one of the works of sfzephyr (his BustNut Studios three-parter specifically, which is technically a rewrite of a story by BustNut from the Eunuch.org website) that served as a bit of the inspiration behind this chapter as well as one I'll be getting to in due course. Once again, I highly recommend checking out his work, and my thanks go to him for the wonderful story that indirectly gave me the idea for this horrifying scenario!

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Prometheus Busted — Part 4

By Skaea

Contains: F/M, M/M, and */M ballbusting, femdom, peril, violence/gore, and graphic castration.

Word Count: 7,756 

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Chapter 4: Hydra Attack!

The light of the crescent moon shined freely over the glistening waters of the city harbor, without a single cloud in the night sky to obscure it. Obviously, almost every boat and submarine in use by the citizens and labor of the city operated only during the daytime, and they all were dormant and tethered to the docks at this late hour. Only the occasional cruise ship or tanker could be seen in the distance, its lights like unblinking stars so close to the horizon.

The city bordering the harbor was bustling with nightlife by this time, but not so for the harbor itself. It was peaceful and quiet, with only the sound of the gentle ocean waves lapping against the wood and concrete structures jutting out of the water.

In short, it was more than the two young studs who’d snuck onto the local fishing pier for an early-morning dip could’ve asked for.

“Last one in’s a rotten egg, Brent!” cried Earl. The lithe, athletic blond obviously had a head start, but even without it he was much faster than his muscle-bound friend could hope to be. He raced off the deck without a second thought, and leaped into the water.

Only to scream in shock and horror.

Testing a Theory (TK)

 

"Pit vs. Link (and Navi!) - Color" by Shadow-Aspect

This is an old fic I put on my DeviantArt account a long time ago, while I was still in college, and I figured I'd post it here for your entertainment. It's based on the above picture which I commissioned from Reserved-Chuckle, and then later colored in because I loved it so much. Pit from Kid Icarus (especially the version seen in Kid Icarus: Uprising) is my absolute favorite ticklee of all time and I was happy to commission Reserved-Chuckle to see him in a ticklish situation, if you will. The artist in question actually wrote a mini-story to go with the lineart, and being the fanfic writer I was, I was inspired to expand upon it, though it ended up being six months before I managed to go through with that due to my being in college at the time. Special thanks to HexalianRebelAgent for helping me out, specifically with Link's behavior and dialogue - I was inspired to call her in after reading this series of LoZ one-shots (written by her).

This story was originally written a good while prior to the release of Super Smash Bros. for the 3DS and Wii U, but I guess you can easily imagine it occurring in the setting of this incarnation of the game - or heck, even in the newest version that's coming to the Nintendo Switch. I'm personally hoping for Dixie Kong and Bandanna Waddle Dee as newcomers, but hey, anything can happen in the lead-up to the game's release! Between this and the story with Corrin I put here earlier, the Smash Bros. universe is definitely one I hope to revisit in the future, since there are a few more tempting choices of ticklees I'd like to get my mitts on when the time comes. We'll see! ;)

Super Smash Bros., The Legend of Zelda, and Kid Icarus belong to Nintendo.

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Testing a Theory

by Skaea

 

Contains: */M tickling, concentrating on foot tickling. SFW.

Word Count: 2,747

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STAGE: Hyrule Temple (Melee)
P1: Pit (Kid Icarus)
P2: Link (The Legend of Zelda)

Pit's POV

“3… 2… 1… GO!” cried the announcement. Floating onto the Temple Stage from Melee in a pillar of light, the first thing I did was scan the area for my designated opponent.

The problem, of course, was that the Temple Stage was huge, so huge that a player could feasibly camp just about anywhere. No wonder it was banned in PvP tournaments. I unsheathed my bow, readying one of my arrows of light in case I spotted my target.

Link stood on a high platform on the opposite side of the stage, looking down upon his opponent. From his perspective, I clearly couldn't see him, but he knew that I'd drawn my bow out of what he thought was just paranoia. So he knelt down silently and stayed where he was, pulling out a bomb and waiting, hoping I'd make the mistake of coming over to where he was.

“All right, Link, come at me!” I shouted, ready to shoot him on sight, but nothing seemed to happen just yet. With a dejected sigh, I decided to take up a more active strategy, and proceeded to head upstairs to the strategic higher position. Link stood up quickly and lit the fuse, flinging the bomb at me and jumping backward, holding his shield at the ready.

I had just climbed onto the highest platform over at my end when I heard the distinctive hiss that preceded the explosion. “Yipe!” I cried, whipping out my Mirror Shield just as the bomb hit. Luckily the bomb bounced off the shield and fell, exploding harmlessly below me.

“Huh, not bad!” Link told me, trying to hide a sliver of jealousy over the fact that his shield wasn't reflective like that. “But how about this?” He flung his Gale Boomerang in my direction, holding up his shield in case I tried anything. With a surprised yell, I found myself caught in the vortex and pulled straight for him. Thinking fast, I whirled round and kicked as hard as I could just as we collided, pushing myself into the air and floating gracefully to the platform below him. Link fired an arrow at me, just barely missing. “Ah, dang it!” he muttered as he got up.

“You're not so bad yourself!” I said… right before I launched an up-smash at the platform right underneath where Link was standing. He winced and got to his feet again, jumping to the lower platform and drawing his Master Sword. “Alright then!” he growled. “Come at me, kid!”

Tree Plugger (CBT, Sounding)

This is another story that started as an RP by me and Docsigma on the BB Fanatics Discord, and was refurbished into a complete story because I liked it a lot. It was originally going to be a standalone involving his minotaur character, but I decided to work it into the shared neighborhood setting that was introduced in "The Wyvern and the Bull", partly because it also helped a little with the worldbuilding of said setting.

Also, introducing my second female OC here, Magnolia the Dryad (and her woodpecker familiar, Tereus)! I created her as a nameless dryad for an RP with someone else enacting one of my favorite CBT fantasies - someone being trapped in a tree with a certain type of bird impaling his exposed balls - but I liked her personality too much for her to be discarded, so I've made her a resident of the neighborhood setting, meaning that she'll be visiting the household Talos lives in every so often and may be getting stories focusing on her as well. Here's an approximation of what she looks like:

https://f4.bcbits.com/img/a0177977609_16.jpg

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Tree Plugger

By Skaea

Contains: F/M ballbusting, gore, cock torture, penetration, and consensual testicular harm.

Word Count: 4,871

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There were a lot of things that the inter-dimensional neighborhood our group of well-endowed monsters lived in had in common with the kind that you or I would be familiar with. The streets, houses, driveways, and gardens were all very much like the ones in a typical suburb, though the layout was less linear and more twisting, meandering, and branching almost like the blood vessels of some giant living being. In the middle of the neighborhood, however, things were dramatically different…

A few days after his draconic house-mate had moved in, the morning sun found Minos taking a causal stroll, like he always did. This morning routine was a daily reminder that at his heart, he was a barbarian with an affinity to resort to fisticuffs, even if he now lived out his days in a cozy home that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a 50’s-era sitcom. A couple of turns and intersections away from his place, however, he found himself entering a vast island of green, taking up much of the center of this strange but homey locale. This forested area was officially called “The Park”, but some of the non-native residents who had escaped its depths referred to it as “The Hungry Jungle”, and for good reason. Hushed whispers spoke of plants of every variety growing in here like some mysterious Eden, including a few more hostile ones that had a hunger for flesh… especially some very precious flesh…

Corrin Chooses To Be Tickled (TK)

"Barefoot - A Smash Bros Comic" by Yayster

Here's something I wrote a while back that I decided to cross-post here - and also expand upon a little. I had the idea for a while after Corrin from Fire Emblem: Fates was revealed as a playable character for Super Smash Bros. for the 3DS and Wii U, and I have to say that he's grown on me a lot since then. I liked the fic a lot but eventually decided that it was a bit short for my tastes (I literally wrote it in less than a day originally), so I decided to expand upon it a little for the Blogger version. ;)

The comic linked above (courtesy of the hilarious Final Smash Comics, check out their Tumblr here) was the main inspiration for this fic, and while I know Robin (who's from Fire Emblem: Awakening, in case you're wondering) wouldn’t be that sadistic I have a feeling a few other Smashers probably would be. The Internet loathed Corrin with a passion when he was first revealed from what I heard and no doubt some of his fellow fighters would’ve felt the same way, seeing as they figured his slot could’ve been used for someone from a less represented game. I don’t know what personalities the avatars would have besides being player-controlled, but I hope I didn’t make them too OOC, all things considered!

Super Smash Bros, Fire Emblem © Nintendo

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Corrin Chooses To Be Tickled

by Skaea

Contains: F/M tickling, concentrating on foot tickling, with some mild foot worship. SFW.

Word Count: 2,874

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Corrin stepped into his room, his head bowed, the corners of his eyes watering. It had not been a good day, he knew that much. Especially not with three very hostile and very malicious enemies whaling upon him almost nonstop just a half-hour earlier. It was good that Dr. Mario had been able to get him patched up, but he’d decided not to fight anymore for today.

In fact, he was done with Smashing entirely.

Too many enemies on the battlefield. Too many insults. Too many losses thanks to everyone ganging up on him… No wonder his light had gone out.

Some weeks ago, he’d chosen Smash Bros. to bide his time until he could make a decision. Nohr or Hoshido? Which would it be? He loved them both, and he couldn’t stand to see them fight. He’d only wanted to get away from the conflict for a while so he could start looking at it from a fair angle.

If only everyone hadn’t been so unfair to him.

Closing the door behind him, the half-dragon let his Yato sword clatter to the floor before walking over to his bed and collapsing onto it face-down, fully clothed. He was too tired to even take off his armor, and he didn’t really care either. He didn’t know if fate had a sense of humor, but if it did, it would have had a very cruel sense of humor to send him here of all places.

Pulling his pillow towards him, he buried his face in it and started to cry in earnest. As he sobbed, a voice in the back of his mind spoke loud and clear: He’d leave first thing tomorrow. He’d have to go back to his families and start his quest in earnest. At least it was better than being almost universally despised.

…Almost universally despised?

Corrin was so busy wallowing in his misery that he didn’t even know someone else had entered the room, or that they’d shut the door behind them, until they tapped him on the shoulder. He looked up, his cheeks flushed, his eyes slightly puffy.

“Are you okay?”

Heartless, But Not Hopeless (TK)

 

"soraSTOCKER" by DazidentEvil

Woo, first fanfiction on this blog! In light of all the hype for Kingdom Hearts III, I decided that a certain big-footed cutie-pie who gets targeted by pretty much everyone and their mom in the tickling community would be a perfect choice for a new tickle fic, especially because I needed a muse for such and I think the advent of KH3 is as good a time as any to work with it. Besides, I figured something sweet and fluffy would make a nice change of pace compared to the INCREDIBLE VIOLENCE of the last few stories I've posted. XD

The above picture is more or less the entire inspiration for this piece, and I whole-heartedly recommend checking out DazidentEvil's DeviantArt gallery for more wonderful tickle art (though there's a plethora of female and anthro tickles, he's done quality male as well for my taste). I also deliberately made the timing of this story ambiguous, ostensibly so you can insert it into virtually any stage of Sora's journey. It would certainly be nice to imagine this happening in a deleted scene in KH3 when it comes out sometime this year, though I suppose you could imagine it occurring at any time from KH2 onward. In reality, though, it's probably my lack of canon knowledge that led to that decision - I haven't played a single KH game due to lacking the proper consoles for any of them, and all I know about the franchise is from the strategy guides and part of a walkthrough of the first game. Still, I hope I did a good enough job capturing Sora's characterization, and that my inexperience with the lore hasn't prevented me from doing this scenario and the accompanying illustration the justice they deserve! :)

Kingdom Hearts (c) Disney and Square Enix

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Heartless, But Not Hopeless

by Skaea

Contains: */M tickling, concentrating on foot tickling. SFW.

Word Count: 2,435

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Sora was feeling lonely. Donald and Goofy were back at the Gummi ship, getting it repaired after a particularly nasty crash-landing, and who knew where in the multiverse Riku and Kairi were. It seemed as though everyone in his life was excessively busy, and had almost no time to spend with him at all.

Sitting in the shade of a large tree, he stared up into the sky, thinking about the life he’d been forced to leave behind so long ago. So many things had changed since that time, whether he’d liked it or not.

He didn’t want to show it, especially not on the Gummi ship, but Sora felt lonely. His traveling partners were wonderful company on his adventures, but even though he didn’t want to admit it to their faces, he still felt it just wasn’t the same as the two people he’d known since childhood. What he would do to have them back – no, what he would do to have the old Riku and Kairi back. The Riku and Kairi he’d known before the Heartless invasion of their island home had resulted in all three being separated from each other, and being changed so much that there was probably no returning to the blissful, halcyon days they’d used to enjoy together.

Perhaps Kairi might welcome him back. But he wasn’t sure if the same could be said for Riku now, now that he’d fallen out with him several times throughout their journey. Even if they’d settled their differences after that, it didn’t change how much it had hurt.

Maybe he shouldn’t be feeling this way. Maybe he should continue keeping up a brave front, wearing a smile on his face and letting his companions think he was okay. But how could he be okay when his world was not?

The Wyvern and the Bull (CBT)

As a preface to this story, I would like to take the opportunity to provide some shameless pluggage. This story was co-written with Docsigma, a member of the BB Fanatics Discord server, which is at the moment the most active CBT chat-hub I know of and includes both human and furry CBT content. I've met quite a few wonderful people there, and as far as I know it's been pretty welcoming thus far to those with a ballbusting fetish. Both run-of-the-mill and unrealistically gruesome scenarios can be found here, so there's no doubt something for everyone (this story is one of the latter, so it's definitely not for the faint of heart). If you wanna check out the server and make some new connections within the CBT community, the invite link can be found here!

The setting for this piece of writing is the M/M RP channel of the server, which has been rationalized in-universe as a sort of household in between the various dimensions everyone's OCs and personas come from. Docsigma's character, Minos, was originally an anthro (a minotaur, to be specific), but he was willing to change him into a kemonomimi (i.e. entirely human except for a few animal features) as per my personal preference, since I'm sadly uncomfortable with partaking in furry kink in general. I wanted to contribute a character of my own to move into the house, and at the suggestion of someone else on the channel, who wanted to see a dragon character, I came up with an admittedly somewhat half-assed character known as Talos, who is based on the Rathalos from the Monster Hunter games. I've wanted to experiment with one of the scenarios shown in this story for quite some time now and I'm glad Doc and I managed to bring it to life, so I'd like to offer my thanks to him for this experience as well as allowing me to publish the story on this blog! I hope to create more stories centered around the household and Talos in particular in the future, though that depends on how often I RP on the channel myself (which may not be that often, considering how busy I am these days).

Also, since I haven't been able to find the time to draw either of these two boys in detail, below are some visual aids I've found online that approximate their appearances as close as I've been able to manage:

• Minos
• Talos

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The Wyvern and the Bull

By Skaea

Contains: M/M ballbusting, peril, violence/gore, and graphic testicular harm.

Word Count: 5,567

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It was already half past midnight, and Minos was still struggling to sleep. How long he’d been in this strange household between dimensions, he didn’t know, but at the very least, there were worse places to be. And hey, the beds were comfy, so that was a plus.

In his youth, he had prowled some kind of subterranean labyrinth in who knew where, a minotaur of great size and power even for his kind. Not many people came to visit, and the reputation of minotaurs as man-eaters wasn’t exactly helpful. And neither, for that matter, was the fact that labyrinths like his were full of far too many man-eating monsters ready to slaughter any unfortunate adventurer who took even one step in the wrong direction. He had been born into combat and war, and had witnessed atrocities of almost every kind since childhood, even before he’d taken up residence in that blasted maze.

He was hard-pressed to admit it to himself, but even though his life had been violent and more than a little eventful, he’d still felt awfully lonely during those days. Especially when almost everyone who stopped by wanted him dead.

But that was before he’d arrived here, to this weird but oddly homely place. For some reason he couldn’t fathom, his form had changed upon his arrival as well - no doubt to fit the look of the house better. Though he was still ten feet tall and very heavily muscled, he now looked more man than bull, with copper-colored skin, golden eyes, and a heavily scarred upper body. All that remained of his original form, in fact, were his bovine ears, his tufted tail, and of course the impressive pair of horns rising from his great mane of waist-length, unkempt, dark brown hair - though his right horn had been snapped in half back when he was more bestial.

Having gotten a good look at himself, he honestly thought he looked handsome now - even if his flat human face looked a little strange. But hey, if people liked his new look, then so be it.

His inner monologue was quite rudely interrupted at that moment - for there was a thunderous crash and a sound of splintering branches from outside the house.

Startled awake, Minos threw off his covers, revealing a simple cotton loincloth underneath. What kind of idiot would make such a racket at this hour?! Grumbling wordlessly to himself, he only paused to slip on a simple T-shirt before trudging outside with a yawn, taking a flashlight with him to navigate his way through the darkened front yard.

He’d thought he’d happen across a car accident, or some stupid burglar in the middle of a botched attempt at a break-in. What awaited him, however, was far more surprising.

Prometheus Busted — Part 3 (CBT, Sounding)

Here it is, the third chapter of my ongoing superhero ballbusting story! I've decided this time around to take a little breather from Tristan's adventures and focus on an evening in the life of Copycat, partly because I wanted to flesh her out a little and partly due to some much-needed catharsis in the face of some recent events in the Internet celebrity circles. The fantasy of a lecherous creep getting wrecked, figuratively and literally, is one that's always appealed to me, and the satisfaction to gain from this scenario has only intensified in light of all those celebrity sex scandals last year. In this case, it also shows that despite Copycat's brutality and penchant for grievous genital harm, she's got standards like the rest of us, has no tolerance for unwanted attention, and has practically made a living out of giving all those sex abusers that walk among us unseen on a daily basis what's coming to them. As nasty as this chapter is, it was very satisfying to write, and hopefully it should be just as satisfying to read as well!

On a related note, I would like to express my gratitude to fellow CBT writer sfzephyr, whose stories about muscle studs in genital-centric peril were a big inspiration for my own stories on the subject. If you enjoy reading my ballbusting stuff, I cannot recommend his own writing blog enough, especially his Brick Haus and Haunted Mansion stories which were the primary inspirations for my Prometheus Busted series in general and this chapter specifically. For all of his works, check out Jayse's Brutal Ball Busting Stories!

Jayse, if you ever happen upon this blog, I cannot thank you enough for inspiring me to branch out into CBT, seeing as the simultaneously aroused and visceral reactions I experience whenever I read your stuff are sensations I wish to emulate in my own ballbusting fiction. I look forward to future writings from you, and I hope that you find this story as fantastic as it is cringe-worthy. ;D

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Prometheus Busted — Part 3

By Skaea

Contains: F/M, M/M, and */M ballbusting, femdom, peril, violence/gore, and graphic castration.

Word Count: 6,855

 

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Chapter 3: The Pervert’s Penance

There were two qualities Chihiro Tachibana was lucky to have: honor and modesty. Her culture had raised her on those two essential virtues, and so had her family and her experiences in life.

Her parents had come to America from their birth nation of Japan during the 80’s, hoping to find greener pastures after escaping a life of poverty. She herself had been born and raised on the west coast, and had lived there throughout her childhood until, in search of the college education her parents had long insisted for her, she eventually got accepted into a community college in — where else? — the suburban outskirts of Monumentropolis. Her parents, true to form for her culture, had moved to the city with her: her father became a software engineer and her mother a chop shop owner. Usual stuff for her origin story. So it was that life seemed to be moving up for her and her family.

Then a massive economic depression hit the entire city. In the wake of a series of consecutive disasters that had left the economy struggling not to fall to its knees, many, many budget cuts and tax hikes had to be made to ensure that the city had enough money for repairs. College tuitions spiked to an all-time high, and the lower-income students who couldn’t afford to continue their classes were the first to go. Chihiro was one of these students. 

She had hoped to graduate with a major in medicine, find a profitable job as a doctor, and join the ranks of life-savers hoping to make the world a better place. But without the money to pay for her education, she was forced to swallow the shame of being a college dropout by necessity, abandoning her dream and her future. 

Her parents were devastated. She had always been a bright student, always eager to show off her talent, but bad luck couldn’t care less about how skilled she was at identifying every artery branching from the Circle of Willis or describing the proper treatment for acute onychocryptosis. By the time she’d turned legal, she was forced to get by on fast food restaurant paychecks and ancillary earnings from helping her mother at her shop. It wasn’t even close to enough to get an apartment of her own, not in the least because the mental health issues that had stemmed from her being forced to drop out prevented her from getting a job lasting longer than 6 months. 

Eventually, she couldn’t stand disappointing her parents anymore, and finally told them that she was going to find her own place and a sustainable career if it killed her. Her parents didn’t want her to go — most people who struck out on their own met terrible fates. But she had to at least try. And so it was with a heavy heart that she set off on her own to find the heart of the city, and hopefully discover an opportunity in the place where stories began. 

It is not known how Chihiro had discovered her ability to copy the ability of virtually any other superhuman she physically touched, or what led to her becoming the small-name villain called Copycat. But those who know her have claimed that it was her bitterness over fortune favoring the big over the small that led to her pursuit of crime, the same as almost every other supervillain who called the city home. Perhaps this is why, when not making a nuisance of herself around the big names in Monumentropolis, she made a career of acting as a sort of modern Robin Hood — a rogue in cat ears, stealing from the rich to help the poor survive. 

Far from the titillating, provocative outfits most female supervillains wore, Copycat chose a more conservative attire, a combination of body armor and flexible covering that sheathed every part of her except her head, fingers, and toes. Combining tiger-skin-colored spandex and bulletproof fabric, it was capped by a pair of wiry cybernetic tails, each tipped with a tiny adamantine mirror, and a cat-ear headband doubling as a surveillance and monitoring system. 

She’d picked those last two add-ons as an homage to the nekomata, a two-tailed supernatural feline which could use its strange abilities to pass as a human. She liked that motif, not only because she always considered her guile and agility to be cat-like, but also because just like a nekomata, you could pass right by her on the street and never suspect that you’d just seen a villain in disguise, ready and waiting to unsheathe her claws. 

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Prometheus Busted — Part 2 (CBT)

After a bit of an absence, I've finally managed to complete the next chapter of Prometheus Busted, so here it is! This one introduces the deuteragonist of the story properly, as we only managed to get a glimpse of her in the first chapter, but I liked her enough to give her a bit of a more significant role. I also like the idea of a hero and a villain being friendly rivals and going at each other simply because it's just what they do, and that sort of dynamic is something I wish to explore here with Tristan and his new "friend". Villains busting heroes are gonna be a frequent theme, but so will vice versa if I ever get to bring in a male villain. We'll see how this pans out!

Also, if anyone wants to send in ideas for future scenarios involving Tristan's cajones getting wrecked, feel free to comment on any of the chapters in this story or shoot me a private message! I'll be happy to include them in future writings in general, if not this storyline specifically.

Enjoy, everyone!

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Prometheus Busted — Part 2

By Skaea

Contains: F/M, M/M, and */M ballbusting, femdom, peril, violence/gore, and graphic castration.

Word Count: 6,504

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Chapter 2: Captured By Copycat

Tristan entered his tiny apartment, a heavily stuffed bag slung over his shoulder. It had been a week since his talk with the mayor, and after registering all of the required papers, he was given the forms that almost every new superhero received that enabled him or her to design a customized outfit. He had repeated to the secretary that he wasn’t interested in anything like spandex, but after being told that the regenerative process wasn’t the safest thing to fall back on, seeing as it took a lot of energy from the body and could cause him to weaken more quickly in the long term, he had relented. It took several days for the armor emporium to get his uniform ready, but as long as he had what he needed, it made no difference.

Closing the sliding door behind him, he headed over to sit at the foot of his shabby, unkempt bed, and opened the bag to pull out the contents inside. He had always been a practical man, and in lieu of all those fancy capes, bright colors, giant spikes, and excessive heavy plating, he had gone with a more subdued uniform inspired by police riot control suits, with camo patterning in reds and browns to mask any blood which could potentially be spilled in spite of his body armor. Nevertheless, there had to be at least some form of stylization – the tailors had insisted on making his suit recognizable to the public – so to avoid any impractical decorations, he had compromised by putting small fins on the sides of his helmet resembling wings, and made the top part of said helmet, over the bulletproof one-way visor, resemble a bird’s head and beak. The bronze-colored chestplate also bore his insignia: a silhouette of a double-headed eagle with a flame shape on its breast, perfectly symmetrical with its wings outstretched. All in all, simple, but effective.

Now if only he could find a situation that entailed putting it on.

There was still his construction job, which thankfully hadn’t slapped a pink slip on him after the accident – now that he was registered, the risk of a lawsuit if they tried it was too high – but even if his repair work was necessary, he was only one of many, many people doing such a job. The foreman had told him that he couldn’t take days off for doing “hero work” due to the crew being horrifically understaffed (even before the dragon incident), and even on weekends like today, there was still the chance that he could be called back into the workplace to fix yet another busted wall or toppled statue.

In other words, unless by some miracle a crime came to him, he was back to his old boring life as a repairman.

With a sigh of disappointment at this revelation, Tristan resorted to turning on the TV and changing channels absentmindedly. He wasn’t interested in any of the soap operas or infomercials, but the local news broadcasts here and there did get his hopes up for a few moments at a time. Sadly, whenever a crime or monster attack made headlines, at least one hero or heroine was always on scene almost immediately, giving him no chance to try and prove himself.

Finally, he switched the TV off and flopped down onto his bed, groaning in dismay. Fate really was out to get him at every turn, wasn’t it?

A short period of listless sulking passed before a thought occurred to him. The chance to be a hero wasn’t going to come to him anytime soon if he just sat here – but what about looking for it? It couldn’t hurt to start out by helping an old lady or two across the street…

A few minutes later, clad in his new suit and helmet, Prometheus stepped out of his apartment, locked the door, and headed downstairs with the directions to the nearest supermarket in his mind. He needed to grab some groceries anyway.

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