Smashing With the Bros (TF, Monster, Gang Bang)
Okay, my request is for a fic. A guy and his 7 friends have a Smash Ultimate marathon. His girlfriend, feeling like he’s paying more attention to the game than her, decides to use magic to mess with him. It goes haywire causing the entire group to transform into their Smash mains.
“Oh, fuck you!”
“Wombo combo mother fucker!”
“Eat my fucking ass!”
There’s more.
There’s always more, a cacophony of it roaring from the living room. It’s like a gregorian chant, but with insults instead of christ. It’s punctuated by fire, by blasts. More yelling, more cursing. I’d never played the game Kyle had brought home.
But I knew I hated it.
I don’t normally use that word, hate. It’s so extreme, so final. But there’s always exceptions-and Smash Bros Ultimate was it. I. Hated. That game. I hated the way Kyle had talked about it for hours on end. I hated the way we had watched and re-watched every fucking trailer for it. I hated the dumb little cartoon characters and how they just bopped each other. But mostly, I hated how he’d invite his smelly, rank-ass friends over to play it every fucking weekend.
They’d storm in about seven or eight, loud and crude as men suffered us all to be. They’d leave the fridge open, the seat up, and their pizza out. They cursed, they stomped, they yelled if they lost. It was like having a thunderstorm of unproven self worth in my living room. I didn’t even know half their names, and doubted Kyle did either. “He’s cool,” he’d mutter as yet another would join them. The number settled at 7-lucky by any other occasion-and stayed.
I’d thank the goddess, but they were still there. Still in my living room, still leaving a damned mess everywhere they went. I could ignore them if I tried. I tended to stay in our room, deep in a practice of my own. But then one of them would stumble their way in. They’d disturb my little circle of peace, always with a pause at the door. “Oh, uh. Hey,” they’d say. Right before making their way to my bathroom.
If their play matched their marksmanship, it wasn’t any wonder why they pissed themselves at a loss.
I tolerated it the first weekend. I made a snide comment the second. But it was when the third came I finally reached my end. I pleaded with Kyle. I told him I’d do damn near anything he wanted. I even sent him a screencap of some cosplay bullshit with a winky face. But still the brood of boys came. Just as loud, just as terrible as before. I wouldn’t say I was angry. Like hate, it’s such a limited word. Like a spark dancing from a far bigger blaze.
I was fucking livid.
@@@
Fury, like leisure, can be a beautiful thing.
It’s all in knowing how to apply it.
It was pointless to tell Kyle just how upset I was. He was a good man, but had the empathy of a puddle. He knew, he just didn’t care. He had convinced himself it would pass. That I’d get over it. Because it was no big deal, right?
That’s what I was to him, in the end. Before I pulled that one book off my shelf. I’d rarely used it-it was a sorry, tattered thing. The pages were yellowed and reeked with turning. The cover was so worn by age that the title had faded. But if you ran your hands along the front? Oh, you’d know what it was. To Kyle, it was just an ugly old book.
But the Transmorphagrimoire was so much more than that.
I’d used it sparingly not out of lack of want or fear. The want was there, the fear negligible. Rather, it was such a tremendous pain in the ass. It really was. I’d already translated most of it, but it’s methods were so obtuse it often stayed on my shelf. Gathering dust, like some forgotten urge.
It slipped into my hands easy enough. And for once, what I required was relatively easy. All I needed was the game. At least, that’s what I thought. The spell, unlike most, wasn’t complex. It simply inverted the joy of an experience. Throwing it away was more practical-but this wasn’t about solving the issue. No, I wanted something far more delicious.
Petty, beautiful revenge. Why just toss it away when I can make them absolutely loathe it?
I couldn’t help but smile as I made my way to the living room. I stepped over Kyle, his snores loud on the floor. I suppose he had prostrated himself there after they had left. Because coming back to bed, coming back to me wasn’t a big deal. I wrinkled my nose, and made my way to his switch. A single flip of a tab, and a press. That’s all it took. As important as the thing seemed to him, I thought he’d have put it up.
No matter. I palmed it, and slid it into my pants. I made my way back to the bedroom, towards the book. My finger slid along the crackling page as I read the incantation. I slipped my hand into my pocket, and pulled the small black chip out.
Such a dreadful, horrible little thing. My hands closed over it, lips parting as I closed my eyes.
It took seconds.
@@@
“Fuck you, god damned fucking griefer!”
“Ooooooh, that had to hurt!”
The storm was back. By the gods, it was rumbling.
They had showed up even earlier than usual. One of them muttered something about winter break. The comment was quickly forgotten in a din of blasts, insults and slurs. I’d entered our room, and locked the door. I kept telling myself it wouldn’t take long. A few rounds, and the mood would sour. They’d gradually want to shift to something else entirely. Muddled conversation would follow-and then they’d leave. Kyle might invite them over again, but with the keystone gone-
But I had to keep telling myself that. Even as one hour became two, and yet one more. I sank into the cushions of our bed-my bed-and stared at my shelf. The grimoire sat there, open to the very page I’d used just a week ago. I thought about flipping it off, childish as the idea was.
Then came the crash. A murmur of worried tones, then another. And another. I sat up on the mattress, ears perked as I tried to listen. It wasn’t that the crashes weren’t normal. Those idiots conducted themselves like bulls. The frequency of them, followed by shrill tones. That’s what got me. I swung my feet over the mattress, and step by step pressed my ear to the door.
Silence. Only for seconds, but ones that seemed to stretch for years. Then came the low rumble of a roar, familiar but not. Something nagged me about it. I’d heard it before, I could place it if I tried. But the thought was dashed seconds later by a screech, and the clamor of an ape.
Oh no.
Oh gods no, they’d found the sound bar.
I gritted my jaw, twisting the lock as I yanked the door back. I gave a stomp of my own as I made it down the hall, hands balling into fists. This was it. This was going to be the scene that broke Kyle and I, but I didn’t care. I’d had enough of all this damned bromanship, and I was going to give those bastards an ear full.
“You fucking ingrates, if you don’t-” I started, only to pause as my eyes fell upon the den.
The spell-well-it had worked. Perhaps not as I had expected, but it absolutely did it’s job.
The thing with spellcraft, the methods don’t matter. You can chant and burn all the candles you want. You can cut a live animal’s throat, you can burn sage. But in the end, it’s the intent of your focus that drives the result. Normal people had positive thinking.
But witches?
We had that beautiful, petty fury.
Yes, the spell had worked. It had absolutely inverted their joy of the game. Their pleasures, their happiness?
It was going to become my own.
I hadn’t known their names. But I knew who stood before me, their spots on the screen blank. I knew Donkey Kong as he embraced me, his massive arms rippling as he lifted me. The scaled hand of Bowser slapped him away, his claws shredding my shirt in the process. The koopa king hoisted me over his shoulder, and snarled at the others. He spun on his heel, and began stomping down the hall.
Towards our bedroom. With DK, Inciniroar, Piranha Plant, Ridley and King K-Rool watching from the den. The warm glow of the TV casts heavy shadows on them. But I could make out every single inch of their bodies.
Especially the sway and weight of their cocks as they came stampeding down the hall.
I don’t know who any of them had been playing. But it didn’t matter. Not after his scaley highness threw me to the bed. His taloned hands met the waist of my pants as he snarled. With a single fierce tug, they tore away effortlessly. Bowser grinned, his grip so sure on my ankles.
He could have snapped them in half without a thought.
Instead, he opted to break me.
His cock smelled of brimstone as it met my cunt with a smack. The hit was enough to jolt me, but not scare me. After all these weeks of begging and pleading? After hearing every damned excuse Kyle could make?
I grinned. I reached down, parting my lips as the warmth of his girth teased. His nostrils flared, smoke pluming from them as I met his eyes.
I snorted, almost choking on the smoke. But in it came an intoxicating, unmistakable scent.
“Well?” I said to him, “Get in me you fucking animal,”
The king didn’t hesitate. Not even for a moment. He let out a roar as he filled me, sparks flying from his maw. His shoved his cock inside me-and I could barely hold back a cry. Bowser lowered his head, concern crossing his face. But I smiled, reaching up to press my hands over his chest.
“Harder-or do your friends need a turn to play?” I said. I tilted my head towards the door. Bowser snarled-and faced the gang of brutes behind him. Donkey Kong cried and slammed his fists against his chest, his cock smacking his thighs. Ridley cawed as his tail curled over his pointed member and tugged. King K-Rool smacked his belly, laughing as he pointed at the koopa.
But it was the Pirahna Plant that caught my eye, it’s roots shuddering as they emerged from the pot. They twisted and writhed in the air as it’s tongue lulled obscene and wet from it’s maw.
Bowser turned to face me, his teeth glinting as his grip tightened all the more. Every shove brought it deeper. The lizard lost himself in his heat, his pounding shaking the bed even as the others joined. Their cocks smacked against my face for purchase. When they couldn’t land it, they simply took a hand. Another hole. The smell of them, their sweat and seed coating me utterly drove me mad.
As my eyes rolled back, lost in the sensation of it all, I thought of only one word. One that had as much weight as those in the book.
GAME.