Please enjoy a little eldritch Corrie sketch I did recently. Kind of what I imagine the friends of the Guard from my Corrie Week fics to look like when they let their eldritch out. (It's supposed to be a black goop btw, gonna need u guys to imagine that part in for me. Remember that little goop monster from The Brothers Grimm? Ye kinda that.) Sometimes features the odd eye or fangs floating around in there. Depends on their moods.
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“New Commander will be making the rounds today.” Sheltay said from a step behind Bail. Her eyes were bright with excitement. Ever since the Republic had announced the ‘Grand Army of the Republic’ and stationed the troopers on Coruscant, she’d been interested in finding out more about the clones. “He’s had to take some time to settle his troops but he’ll finally be introducing himself to all the delegations.”
“Haven’t we met the commanders?” Bail queried, thinking about the group of six that had been present within the senate the day the troopers had landed. Those six had provided them with numbers and hadn’t removed their helmets either.
“This one’s in charge of all the other clones.” Sateen said from his other side, though his expression was one of curiosity rather than excitement.
excerpt from his eyes as black as coal by sleebyama (aka me)
Corrie Week Day 1!! @darknight-brightstar and I unfortunately did not get nearly as much done for this week as we wanted to, but alas, she has work and I have college. Still, we're excited to share what we did get done!!
We combined the prompts for Day 1 - Eldritch/Group Sex
The Intro and the Smut are split into two chapters, so those who don't wish to partake in the sexytimes don't have to :3
Finders Keepers
Rating: Explicit
Ships: Corrie Commanders/Corrie Commanders, Corrie Commanders/Shadow!Obi-Wan Kenobi
Summary: The Corries found something in the Undercity had been lost and forgotten. The Corries decided to keep the shiny-pretty. And the shiny-pretty decided to keep the Corries right back.
"What is it, vod'ika?" Blush asked, hip cocked as they tucked the credit chits into a pouch. "Find something shiny?"
"Yeah," Rigi crouched down and dug through the pile of detritus. It was like a rock? Or oh! Maybe a crystal. He pulled it out, and it sparkled and glowed a pretty purple. "Look!" He held it up for Blush to see.
"Oooh, that's a very nice find, Rigi," Blush praised, stepping closer to see it better. "A very fine addition to our collection, I think."
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a piece i'm working on based on The King In Red AU by musicmillenia on ao3 (aka @wreathedinscales)
some relevant background:
Net and Cable are Corrie IT OCs that collectively belong to the Eldritch Corries discord server that Music hosts (and i am part of)
Net and Cable's eldritch Forms are essentially endless danger noodles
Fox's Form is a giant with holes in him. he's also the origin point for the eldritchy-ness that has happened to the Guard
Ether is my Corrie IT OC (tho he was inspired by the same discussion that birthed Net and Cable, and could be considered another collective OC if anyone wants to use him) and is the Sergeant in charge of the Coruscant Guard's IT Division
warnings for: eldritchy-ness, somewhat body horror? that's the best I can word it
The hissing grates against reality, scraping at the essence of a being.
"Kuur, ade," Fox shushes firmly, coiling up loops of endless liquid gore. "I know exactly how long it's been since either of you rested. You knew I'd get involved if you kept ignoring Ether's orders to hit the racks."
Somehow, the mass of thick red strands manages to become even more floppy, evoking the same response as a disconsolate toddler who knows their caretaker is right. A pitiful whine fizzles and pops like overclocked cooling fans and the hum of electricity, but Fox is unphased as he continues to inexorably pull tendrils from their twining throughout the Coruscant Guard's domain.
Fox is the only one who can actually extract Net and Cable from their beloved network. Anyone else who tries can coil and wind for hours and days and weeks, and still never reach their end, never actually make a dent in the network or arteries and veins and capillaries that make the twins omnipresent throughout the territories the Guard have claimed as their own. Force knows Ether--and a host of others--has tried.
When the last few yards are within reach, Fox carefully binds the bundle of noodle-like vode into a hank as long as his shoulders are wide, and with the same thickness as his thigh.
"Oi," he snaps when branching roots try to surreptitiously drip from his arms to the floor, slinking towards the server room's door. A tug and the roots are freed from the duracrete with a forlorn warble, but neither Net nor Cable make another break for it.
Fox heaves a sigh through his nose as he wraps up that last bit of vod. "You're lucky im not making you revert just yet, brats," he says, hand smoothing over countless parallel strands gently. The bundle purrs an electric buzz-hum, but offers no further protest to the intervention.
Instead, the creeping ends loop and coil and wrap themselves around his arm, radiating affection as they sink between armor plates and under blacks, into skin, synching to the rhythm of Fox's pulse. The blatant appeal to his fondness makes Fox sigh again, this time accompanied by a head-lolling roll of his eyes.
"You're not gonna stay in barracks unless I sit in you, are you."
It's not a question, so the bundle of vod'ike don't answer, but the way they squirm in his arms, burrow further into his flesh, is all the confirmation Fox needs.
"Right," Fox says, resisting the urge to sigh again. "You're coming with me, then."
Something about the hank of cable-vein-sinew-roots perks up like a massif scenting treats.
"Batch meet-up at Dex's," Fox elaborates. "I don't have time to sit on you two until you sleep--rest, whatever the kriffing fuck we do.
"So you're coming with me. Now get in your hole," he orders as he lets his form shift and boil over reality just enough to open Cable and Net's favorite den in the dip of his Form's collar bones.
The careful work of the last half hour are ruined immediately as the pair of tech-obsessed shebse launch from their coil about his arm to pour themselves into him, tangling and knotting together in the gaps between bones. Fox no longer flinches at the sensation of worm-like burrowing as they root themselves in him, tendrils coiling through to wrap and support his throat and spine, a parasitic cardiovascular system installing itself through his neck and chest and shoulders.
