#HER SHOULDERBLADE IS GONE

[yourmotherssistersdaughtrscousin]

God forbid a woman look like a human being

[abbysbasement]

#RUNONS

Kittygirl!Reader x Mommy!Abby

The one thing Abby loved was that you always kept yourself soft, warm, and pliant for her. When she was wound up too tight, you'd pad across the couch to roll out on her lap, and she'd lay a thick, heavy palm on your back, petting down your shoulderblades to the base of your spine, fingering between your cheeks to grab a handful of soft, supple ass.

Your head would perk up, lips all soft, drooly and parted, eyes pearl-round gone, in the special place, just how she liked it. She made quick work of your boyshorts, unceremoniously tugging them around your knees before slicking up a finger through your juices.  Her hands were calloused, thick fingers pushing through the gummy ring of your cunt and exploring you deeper, as your hungry lips grabbed on for dear life. Her other hand fumbled with the buckle of her belt, pulling it from the loop. You winced instinctively, yet she dropped it chattering to the ground as she released her belt loop. From it, the blue of Abby's thick cock sprang forward, catching you in the chin. You whined, and she used her free thumb to part your lips, craning your head to the tip.

"Gotta glaze it up for me kitty, else 's gonna hurt goin' in."

Puppygirl!Reader x Owner!Ellie

Ellie loves being high around you, calls you her little stress ball. Plops you down in the center of her thighs, just boxers and a bra separating skin from skin, and draws in gently as her fingers pad around your body. Soon, you're toppled over onto the bed, Ellie squatting down to drag your panties to the side and deposit a spit slick finger into the warm, tight, and wet between your legs.

"Fuckin' like that baby? Know you do."

Her tattoed knuckles grazing down your lips, your neck and momentarily caressing the globe of a breast before hooking into your collar and pulling you forward, ghosting trails of ivory smoke into your little mouth.

"Good girl... pretty baby."

Her eyes were low and dark, taking you in in the dim light like a vulture taking in a freshly lain corpse. The shutters of her teeth bruising your neck and thighs, taking in the pieces of you greedily. Plunging your finger into your mouth to hastily, lovingly suck, cleaning off the spend with your soft tongue. Whatever she wanted, you let her have, and that's why she needed you, that's why this worked.

[kentopedia]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ THIS WORLD, IT'S CRUEL — levi ackerman

summary . . . levi comforts you after a nightmare

contents . . . gn!reader, takes place after the female titan, pet names (my love, darling), i got the urge to write something for levi last night, so here we are — 800 words

blood splattered across the trees. the bodies of your dead friends and soldiers littered on the ground like nothing more than discarded trash. the sun pelted down on them, the feet of titans crushed them. 

levi was among the bodies. his eyes stared back at you, cold, empty. the blue in them had faded to a steel grey, nothing there at all; not the love and affection that usually bled between his irises. 

and you were frozen, feet stuck in the soil as the world around you swirled so realistically, swaying. the female titan’s eyes turned to you—you’d be next, you knew.

fear gripped you, clawed up your neck, but you couldn’t breathe; couldn’t move. 

the female titan picked you up, stared at you, squeezed you tight. though you thrashed, you were caught in her palms, tears streaming down your cheeks as you tried to scream. 

whatever sound left your throat was raspy, nothing more than the end of an exhale. you screamed and screamed, your body trapped, as you tried to kick and claw and cry to no avail.

then—

“hey, hey, calm down, it’s okay.” 

a voice. it cut through your the vivid image, and suddenly, the sun seemed to dim, the female titan blurring into a figure that seemed darker, different. the air turned cold—the beating sun that you’d sure you’d felt dimmed.

you screamed once more, and this time, a shrill sound came out. levi’s name spilled from your lips… not quite a yell, but loud enough to wake anyone else who was sleeping down the hall.

tears tracked down your cheeks as you blinked, realizing that you weren’t kicking at the female titan, but the blankets of your bed. the sun was gone because it was the middle of the night, and the room didn’t smell like pine because you weren’t there.

levi stared at you, eyes concerned as they darted all over your face. he brushed away your tears before they rolled down, dripped off your jaw, a steady stream that you weren’t sure how to stop. 

“levi,” you said again, squeezing his wrists as he held your cheeks. “levi.” 

“it’s okay,” he repeated, noting the terror in your expression that hadn’t faded, knowing exactly what had happened in your mind. it wasn’t the first time you’d had the nightmare—it wouldn’t be the last. “you’re okay. i’m okay.” 

you searched his face for any sign of a lie, that perhaps, this was the dream, and levi had truly died back on the mission. but levi breathed like a living person, held your face like a breathing person, and touched you with a warmth that no dream had ever supplied. 

“breathe, my love,” he said, catching your eye, taking a long inhale with you as you watched, focusing on those beautiful blue eyes. they were full of life; full of love—not the dulled irises that you’d seen in your dream.

you took a long, stilted breath, closing your eyes. you let your hands trail down his arms, grip at his biceps, nails digging into the skin. “i’m sorry, levi,” you said, softly, voice cracking. “i didn’t mean to make so much noise, i just—” your lip trembled, but you refused to cry again. your gaze fell to his lap, to the place where his thighs brushed your own on the bed. “i’m sorry.” 

“fuck. don’t—” for some reason, your apology always seemed to crush him. his expression broke, and he tugged you onto his lap, sending a fresh wave of tears over you. “just. come here. don’t apologize.” you trembled in his arms, and he hushed you, rubbed your back as you squeezed his shoulderblades, buried your face into his collarbone. “you’re okay.” 

he smelled like fresh linens, so clean and soapy. there was a hint of bergamot. so very levi. he was safe. he was alive. so were you. 

“you’re okay,” you repeated his own words, exhaling, shifting so your cheek was pressed against his jaw, your nose buried in the soft skin of his neck. though, if you were talking more to yourself or to him, you weren’t sure. 

levi held you for a moment, running his hands along your back, his fingers tracing each knob of your spine. slowly, he lowered you back to the bed, maneuvering you onto his chest, tucking you into his side. at some point, your hands had fisted in the fabric of his shirt, clutching it tight, the material wrinkled. 

you released your palm, sighing softly as he kissed your forehead. “i didn’t mean to wake you,” you said — the same thing you always repeated after every nightmare. 

to which levi always said — “you didn’t.” because sleep evaded him, always, and he never got far enough into it to have dreams. 

you reached for his hand and levi let you, let you squeeze his palm, lace your fingers together. the darkness settled back into the room, the serenity stilling, even as the images of your dead squad members lingered on the back of your eyelids. 

you were alive, and so was levi.

it would be okay.

[miasmaghoul]

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

Rating: E

Pairing: Sunshine/Aurora

Contains: transfem Sunshine, stoned ghoulettes, banter, snuggling (gone sexual), something of a first time, new discoveries and these two just having a real good day together.

HAPPY FEMSLASH FEBRUARY Y'ALL I HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG THIS IS BUT WHO CARES BECAUSE WE CAN ALWAYS USE MORE WOMEN!!

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"You're so fuckin' pretty," Sunshine slurs, a stoned grin plastered across her freckled face. "You know that?"

Aurora chirps, pleased, raking perfectly manicured nails over the ghoulette's scalp. She's on her stomach between Aurora's legs, arms around her waist, tail curled around Aurora's ankle. Those nails scritch at a spot by her horn and Sunshine purrs with it, nuzzling Aurora's belly through the soft yellow cotton of her sundress. They've been here for hours now; what started as a self-care day had devolved into lazy snuggles and endless snacking once Sunshine revealed her secret stash of edibles. Not that either of them were complaining.

"Yeah?" Aurora giggles, twirling a russet curl around a slender finger. Sunshine nods against her stomach, rumples the fabric under her cheek. "Then why'd it take you so long to get me in your bed, huh?"

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Read the rest below the cut!

Sunshine shoves herself up just enough to look the little ghoulette in the eye, delighted at how heavy and distant they look. Silver-green irises shrunk to thin rings by her blown pupils, eyeshadow glittering in the rosy light of the setting sun. It's the same shade of cotton candy blue as her hair, gentle waves cascading over her shoulders. Her cheeks sit flushed and full, a dopey smile stuck on her perfectly pouty lips.

Pretty doesn't even begin to cover it.

"Whaddaya mean 'so long'?" She reaches up and taps the tip of Aurora's upturned nose. "You've only been here for like a week!"

"Um, excuse you - I've been here for 23 days," Aurora corrects, nipping after Sunshine's outstretched finger. "Thought I was gonna die of old age waitin' to get here."

"Pfft, drama queen." Sunshine gives her a wink, scooting up until they're chest to chest. "You're s'bad as Rain."

"Am not!"

She says it with an indignant pout, that lovely lower lip stuck out in deliberate biting distance. And, well, how could Sunshine resist?

"Sure y'are," she lilts, kissing her cheek. "Actin' like I've been ignoring you," another kiss, to her jaw, "when we both know," one more kiss for good measure, to her chin, "that you've been getting plenty of attention."

She takes Aurora's lip between her fangs, gives it a playful tug, and the little ghoulette's eyes sparkle. She can't keep her pout in place, mouth curling at the corners when Sunshine pulls back to give her a wink.

"Okay but not from you," she trills, looping her arms around Sunshine's neck. "A girl can only handle so much making out and over-the-clothes stuff, y’know."

"Are you callin' me boring?" Sunshine feigns hurt, makes her eyes go all watery and sad. Aurora pays it no mind, offers up a one-shouldered shrug even as her tail sneaks its way around Sunshine's thigh. "You wound me, Roro," she sighs, flopping with all her weight onto the smaller ghoulette's chest, forcing out an oof. "I thought you liked dry humping!"

"Not as much as you do," Aurora teases, and well, Sunshine's pretty sure no one likes dry humping as much as she does. Hell, just the thought has her cock going all tingly. "Besides," Aurora scratches at the space between her shoulderblades and Sunshine purrs again. "How'm I s'posed to not want more when I hear the way you make Lus scream?"

Oh now that makes her tingle. Sunshine shifts, drags her nose down the slender line of Aurora's neck. She sighs, tilts her head to give Sunshine more access, a move the ghoulette rewards with a nibble to Aurora's earlobe.

"You been listenin' in, little bird?"

"Didn't mean to," Aurora admits, not a hint of shame in her voice. "But she leaves her windows open 'n I'm right next door." Sunshine drags her fangs over Aurora's pulse point and the little ghoulette huffs out a soft oh. "Can't blame me for bein' curious."

She certainly can't. Sunshine still remembers her own early days, when she would perch on windowsills and bits of the roof that let her peek, let her listen. Let her spy on Dew riding Aether like a stallion, Rain getting Mountain his knees, Cirrus tying Cumulus up in pretty blue ropes and Swiss doing...well, everyone. She still thinks about those days sometimes, most often on the rare occasion she sleeps alone.

Which raises a very important question.

"Tell me somethin', Roro," she murmurs into the soft skin of her throat. Kissing a slow path over her collarbone, fingers teasing at the strap of her dress. Aurora makes a questioning sound, and Sunshine decides she needs to see her face when she answers. Aurora's cheeks have gone pinker than ever, bottom lip caught between her own fangs. "You ever touch yourself when you listen to us?"

Aurora doesn't hesitate, not even for a moment. She nods with enthusiasm, eyes going wider and her parted thighs falling even further apart. Sunshine grins, delighted, rolling her hips against the mattress in the most obvious way possible. Aurora makes the sweetest little gurgling sound.

"Good," Sunshine breathes, warm against soft skin. She plants both hands on the mattress when Aurora's hands slide back into her curls, dragging her lips over the pale plane of Aurora's chest, until she hits the top of her dress. "You ever imagine what I'm doin' to make Lussy sing like that while you play?"

"Yeah," Aurora whispers, hooking her ankles around the backs of Sunshine's legs. "Every fuckin' time, Sunny, can't help it."

Sunshine believes her, without question, but Aurora sounds far too pretty for her to stop now. She readjusts, wriggles one arm under that slight body to splay her hand over Aurora's spine. Her other hand slips down to hold her waist, thumb brushing the underside of her breast through her dress.

"Then how 'bout you tell me what you think I do," Sunshine kisses the center of her chest, inhales the scent of fabric softener and fruity perfume, "tell me what you do to yourself," she drags her open mouth over the slight swell of Aurora's chest, "and I'll tell you if you're right."

Sunshine punctuates her words with a kiss to the little ghoulette's nipple, stiff and straining against the fabric, and Aurora hisses.

"Fuck," she says on a slow exhale, "you're such a damn tease."

"S'what I'm good at, baby," Sunshine coos, the hand on her waist gliding up to cup her breast and give the soft mound a squeeze. "Now start talkin'."

Sunshine latches onto her nipple through her dress, and oh must the weed be affecting her because the little ghoulette arches right off the bed with a shocked whine. She's never that sensitive.

This is going to be fun.

"U-um," Aurora stammers, clearing her throat in an effort to regain composure. It sort of works, but Sunshine doesn't stop suckling so it's a pointless effort. "W-well, there's - there's this one noise she makes..." she pauses, sucks air through her teeth when Sunshine rolls her nipple between her fangs. "It's like...like a moan, but chirpy?"

Sunshine hums her understanding and Aurora shivers with the vibration. It's a sound she knows well, one Cumulus doesn't make for anyone but her.

"And, um...when - oh - when she does that, I...I imagine her on top of you."

A good guess, Sunshine thinks, but far from the truth. She gives Aurora a reprieve from her mouth, pulls back to admire the wet spot she's soaked into her dress. The little ghoulette sags in her arms, and Sunshine can already smell the arousal on her. Sweet like candy and twice as addictive. Sunshine throbs against the mattress.

"And what do you do," she croons, taking that nipple between two fingers instead, "when you think about her bouncing on my cock?"

"I use my fingers," she answers, wispy as a springtime breeze. "I...I kneel on my bed, I put two inside," she drags a heavy hand from Sunshine's hair, hold it up and crooks her middle and ring fingers, "and I...I ride 'em."

Oh, what a gorgeous picture that paints. Sunshine can imagine it now - she has yet to see the other ghoulette naked, but it's so easy to picture Aurora panting and writhing, little tits bouncing while she uses her own hand like a toy. Flushed down her chest and grinding her clit against the heel of her hand until she can't take it anymore.

Fuck, Sunshine hopes she can squirt.

"Hot," she says, ever eloquent. She moves to Aurora's other nipple, laves at it until it's as wet as the first. Twin dark spots that make Sunshine's balls ache. "That's a good guess, sweetcheeks," she murmurs, low, "but it's not what gets her to make that noise."

Sunshine gets both hands on her breasts, gives them a nice fondle, and Aurora groans.

"What does?"

Sunshine looks up, prepared to tease farther - she can go for hours, if allowed - but the look on Aurora's face has the words catching in the back of her throat.

She looks gorgeous, glassy eyed with bite-swollen lips and the tip of her tongue poking out between her fangs. She's breathing heavier already, fingers twitching against the back of Sunshine's neck and her tail gradually tightening around her thigh. Barely any stimulation at all, and yet the poor thing looks wrecked.

Sunshine surges up to kiss her, and decides teasing can wait for another day.

Aurora moans, an indulgent, wanton sound that flows into Sunshine's mouth like the sweetest water. Their tongues dance, their fangs click, Sunshine's pretty sure she's drooling down her chin, but it doesn't matter. All that matters is the way Aurora clings to her, the taste of her strawberry lip gloss and the way Aurora's hips roll to find her own. Sunshine reaches down to grip her there, pins the little ghoulette to the bed, and can't help but rut against her thigh.

Aurora's the one to break the kiss, gasping, and Sunshine can see the demand in her eyes before she has a chance to speak.

"Don't worry, little bird," she rasps, nosing at her bangs. "I'm gonna give it to you, I promise."

"You fuckin' better," Aurora spits, and it's so cute that Sunshine has to giggle.

"Don't you wanna know the answer first, Roro?" She tips her head, a cascade of short curls tickling her forehead. Aurora blinks a few times, seeming lost. "What makes Lussy scream," she clarifies, and Aurora's eyes roll.

"Uh huh," she nods, licking already wet lips. "Tell me, please tell me."

"I think it'll be more fun," Sunshine gets a knee under herself, presses her thigh right where Aurora needs it just to hear her choke, "if I show you."

The little ghoulette makes the loveliest keening sound, a warbling thing that makes Sunshine's belly warm, and then she's moving. Slinking down the short length of Aurora's body, kissing down her chest, the slight softness of her stomach, the curve of her hip - Sunshine settles between her legs, presses her face to the crease of her thigh through her dress, and can't wait to finally get underneath it.

"You really are beautiful, y’know," she coos, resting warm palms on Aurora's knees. They slide up her thighs with deceptive slowness, gathering soft fabric and exposing inch after inch of porcelain skin. Rucking the skirt up over her hips, exposing the cutest pair of silky pink panties Sunshine thinks she's ever seen. The not-small wet spot only adds to the experience. "Been dyin' to see how beautiful you are here, too."

Sunshine slides two fingers over the damp fabric, the barest pressure, and Aurora makes that gurgling sound again.

"You're gonna kill me," the little ghoulette complains, mindlessly tweaking those impossibly stiff nipples through still-damp fabric. "Fuck, Sunny, c'mon..."

Sunshine clicks her tongue, chastising, but she doesn't have much room to taunt the other ghoulette for her impatience. Not when she can feel the place where her boxers are starting to stick to her.

"Alright, alright, sheesh," she chuckles, giving Aurora one more rub just because. "But nex' time you're gonna let me have my fun first."

Sunshine nips at her inner thigh, makes her jolt, and then she's pressing her open mouth to that wet spot. Licking at the fabric and groaning at the taste of her, heady and sweet and utterly delicious. She groans, savoring her first taste of the little ghoulette, and hooks two fingers around the gusset. Aurora reaches down and gets a hand in her hair once more, rocks her hips towards Sunshine's face, and the soft growl that escapes her is nothing but hungry.

Sunshine pulls that strip of fabric to the side, exposes her properly, and -

"Oh," she breathes, suddenly dizzy, "isn't this a pretty surprise..."

Aurora's as beautiful here as Sunshine knew she would be, pink and slippery with the lightest dusting of platinum curls just at the apex of her thighs, but all Sunshine can focus on is the sweet little silver barbell threaded through her hood. Each end is decorated with stones that match the blue of her hair, and Sunshine's brain short circuits when she considers the possibility of the little ghoulette having a color for every time she dyes those luscious waves.

"D’you like it?" Aurora lets out an airy giggle while Sunshine drools onto the sheets, hooking one leg around her back. "Swiss n' Cir said you would."

Sunshine traces the piercing with her thumb, gives a slow nod, and feels a blurt of pre soak into her boxers when she taps the lower ball against Aurora's swollen clit and the little ghoulette shakes.

"Baby," she huffs, grinding into the bed, "you have no idea."

Aurora tugs at her hair then, just enough to pull her attention from the shiny thing that's making her throb, and Sunshine can't believe how good she looks from down here.

"Aren't you s'posed t'be teachin' me somethin'?"

Aurora blows her a kiss, and Sunshine hurts.

"Oh, sweet thing," she slurs, fucked up sixteen ways from Sunday, "I'm gonna make you sing like an angel."

"Good," Aurora breathes, palming her tits once more, "'cause I want everyone t'hear me."

Oh, Sunshine hopes she screams.

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

Lover.

Matt with bartender!reader.

Fucking them over the counter late at night after closing because they just smelled way too good. He teases them about how he could hear them throbbing for him all night.

this hit the SPOT

ELECTRIC CHAPEL- M. MURDOCK

Pairing: Bartender! Matt x Bartender! Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: smut, but more like teasing? like matt just teasing you and refusing to stick it in bc hes so, so mean, heavy flirting/ sexual tension, pet names, praise kink, swearing, smartass matthew murdock

"if you want me, meet me at electric chapel, if you wanna steal my heart away- meet me, meet me, baby, in a safe place, c'mon, meet me... in electric chapel"- electric chapel, lady gaga

“You wanna start a tab honey?” you asked sweetly, the countertop cool against your bare skin as you leaned in towards the redhead, nodding as she extended her card.

The music was loud as it thudded from the speakers, reverberating through your heels up through your spinal cord. You watched her turn in her stool as she adjusted herself, legs crossing from under the bar as you slid her a smirk, a certain twinkle in your eye as you felt her check you out.

You were used to it over the years, the customers often already on a buzz that seemed to flair and flourish when they were in your presence, your little flirtatious comments driving them wild.

It was business. People came, people left, drinks were bought and were gone in a matter of minutes. But the little interactions were fun nonetheless.

She was cute you thought as you turned over to scan her card, feeling her eyes pierce to your back like thumbtacks to a corkboard.

You couldn't help but smile as you slid the card back to her, nails drumming the granite before starting her drink. The polished glasses glistened from the neon signs, the deep shades of cherry and crimson a stark contrast compared to the dark environment that was the Electric Chapel Bar.

The bar drew in all kinds of customers, but all of them had one thing in common- spunk. A type of energy that could only be found beneath the streets of New York, between the walls of the underground lair.

You knew she possessed that with her leather jacket and sharp winged liner, red hair bright as flames. She was here alone, as far a you could tell. You'd have to take care of her.

“So what's your name love?” you drawled, adding ice to the shaker as you started to craft her drink.

“Natasha. But you can call me Nat. All the pretty people do.” she smiled, mischievous as a cheshire cat as she watched you. You couldn't help but beam from ear to ear at her foxy comments, soaking up all the attention she gave you.

“Nat. I like that name. It’s cute.” you commented as you finished shaking up her concoction, straining it into the glass.

“Why thank you. Hey, when do you get off work?” she asked as you propped a lemon slice on the side of her glass, citrus already starting to slowly drip down the sides as you slid it over to her. You shrugged, smirking in delight as she slid you a twenty from her purse.

“Anytime you want me off baby.” you giggled, stuffing the twenty in your bra with a wink, trotting off towards your coworker- Matt.

His presence was potient despite being placed on the opposite end of the large bar, and you watched as his large shoulderblades shift and move as he flipped bottles between his pretty hands before he poured. It was mesmerizing- watching him work. His movements were clean and elegant, with a hint of flair behind them.

Enough so that you could never look away from him, whether if he was working or not. You often felt yourself drawn to him, always making note to act sly and seductive towards him.

It was no secret there was tension between the two of you, and you couldn't deny the sexual attraction you felt for him. It flared up now as you neared him, his skin warm to the touch as you slid your hand across his bicep, reaching over him to snag a cherry to suck on.

You could have easily gone beside him, the two of you both knew that. But it was more fun this way.

“Someone’s been busy eh?” he asked, his pace never slowing as he slid over another two drinks for some regulars.

“Oh what this?” you pulled the bill from your bra, rubbing your fingers along the thin paper to hear it crinkle. “Nothing a little flirting can't manage. You're slacking Murdock.”

“I'm slacking because I only flirt with you.” he noted, eyebrows raising as you shrugged. “Fair enough.” you nodded, giving his arm a quick little pat before heading off towards the back, making sure to swish your hips as you left.

The black skirt was snug around your curves, making you feel sexy and powerful with each click of your high heels. The owner of the bar was rather relaxed, a dress code next to nothing- but black was required. That had never bothered you, as black was nothing but a magnet drawn to your closet, whether it was leather, velvet or cashmere.

It looked amazing on Matt- an added bonus to the job. Though Matt looked good in anything really.

“Hey Y/L/N?” he called, voice clear as day over the thumping music that poured from all around the bar. You turned.

“Stay focused. I could feel your eyes on me the whole damn shift.”

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“Anddd done!” you smiled, letting out a gentle huff as you threw the white towel down on the now freshly cleaned bar top, rubbing the little trickle of sweat that ran down your forehead with the back of your hand.

It was an odd hour in the morning, all the other staff had packed up and left almost an hour prior. You and Matt were closing- as always, though you enjoyed it without fail. You survived the empty space, admiring your handiwork.

All the tables were freshly wiped, the smell of mint in the air from the glistening black marble. The red booths had been cleaned off, the dancefloor deserted, heart-shaped ashtrays cleared. Only a few flickering neon signs remained on as you leaned against the ice well, fighting the urge not to squirt Matt with a soda gun.

“Almost- you mean.” he commented, sat firmly on a barstool, spinning around like a five year old.

“What do you mean almost?” you pouted, the towel and spray bottle snatched away from your station as he stood. “You missed table fourteen. There’s no mint there.” he shrugged, your mouth dropping to the floor.

Sometimes you forgot he had enhanced senses. It came in handy, but in times like this you wish he could put away the hound dog for one night.

“You can smell that?!”

“Oh sweetheart I can smell alotta things.” he smirked cheekly, resuming his journey over to the abandoned table, leaving you in disbelief.

You sighed, elbows resting against the counter as you watched his biceps move, the veins trailing up his arms like spiderwebs flex and move as he wiped down the table, removing every last crumb.

It was nauseating- how drawn to him you were. A part of yourself hated every bit of your body that was plagued by the thought of him, knowing deep down it was so very wrong to think of a co-worker that way.

But the two of you just… clicked. You worked so well together, it got to the point the boss had only put the two of you together on shifts. You were fast and efficient, your energies meshing together to provide the customers with a great experience. Not to mention you got a great experience as well behind the bar, his flirty comments and little teasing touches doing nothing but adding more fuel to the fire.

That very touch frightened you now, had made you jump as Matt had crept up behind you. “Jumpy lil thing aren't you?” he murmured to himself, as if he were observing you like a laboratory experiment.

“I was daydreaming.” you sighed, wiggling your hips against him as you peeled your eyes from the darkness of the room, brain slightly foggy from shifting out of focus.

“Yeah? About what?” he asked, the back of his knuckles caressing your arm as you let your head droop down in relaxation. Matt’s aura had captured you in a trance, always leaving you feeling like you had stepped out of a hot tub covered in lavender. He made your muscles loose, bones feel like jello as your head became foggy with haziness.

“Oh ya know… just some stuff.”

“Some stuff?” he pressed, voice benign as he began to unravel you. You felt your thighs start to clench, breath hot and heavy as your panties started to drench.

Oh god.

He felt so good, and he was barely even touching you. Hardly zero advances.

“Just some stuff..”

“I’ve been thinking about stuff all night too bunny. So many things.”

You were going to be sick. You felt as if you had a fever with how hot your skin was, the blood coursing through your veins like liquid fire causing your heart to thud through your ears. It hurt. The need that racked through your frame physically hurt.

“Like what?” He chuckled. “Since I’m not a tease, I’ll tell you.”

Lie. He teased you all the time. Every time he entered your peripheral vision, you felt as if he was trying to push you past your breaking point, making you lose an invisible game. Both of you were too stubborn to jump each other's bones, as much as you wanted to.

But tonight felt different, an extra weight of sexual tension in the air. “I was thinking about how good you smelled. And how I could hear you throbbing for me all night. Is that what you were thinking about too, bunny?”

Shutting your eyes, you sharply inhaled.

Okay. This was happening. This was happening right fucking now and you genuinely had to keep yourself composed or you would melt into this man's arms like fucking puddy.

“N-no.”

“Don’t lie to me angel. You know I don’t like when you lie.” A hand brushed against your back, the hairs on your neck raising. Fingers curled around the countertop's edge, breath quickening as he listened to your thundering heartbeat. You could barely move.

“Yes. Yes I was and I want-” You choked. “I want you so bad. It hurts, Murdock. You’re hurting me.”

You're hurting me. Those words snapped something inside of him, drove him feral. Did you know the impact you had on him? The sweet floral scent that plagued his senses whenever you neared him, the quickening of your heartbeat mixed with your arousal. Sometimes he hated how sensitive he was, because it was almost painful to be around you.

All he wanted to do was to pound into you, use you like a personal fleshlight like he knew you wanted to be so badly for him. But he couldn't. Because you were co-workers, and that was wrong and what if things didn’t work out?

He had a feeling that wouldn't be the case with you. Plus, who said he couldn't have a little fun anyway?

“D’need me to take the pain away sweetheart?”

You nodded. Words were unable to form, getting stuck in your throat like phlegm. Please. Please, please, please.

His hand slid down to your skirt, tugging at the elastic waistband. One of the two things that separated the thing he needed the most. “Can I?”

“Please.” With a slight pull, the fabric slid down past your thighs, panites sliding down with them. He inhaled deeply, basking in your scent.

“Fuck..” he murmured, palming himself through his jeans. “You smell so good. So sweet n pretty..”

The sound of his belt jingling excited you, your eyes wide as you watched him tug at the buttons.

This was happening. This wasn't just another wet dream, some fantasy where you ended with your fingers between your thighs. He was here, and he was taking care of you.

His touches were soft and gentle, yet demanding in a way as his fingers trailed up your leg to your thighs, inching them further apart. You gasped as he swiped a digit across your slit, wetness gleaming on his finger.

You felt as if the air had been stolen from your lungs as his arms wrapped around you in a comforting embrace, hands meeting at your lower belly as he pressed against the muscle gently.

“You’re so good to me angel. So, so good.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm” he hummed against you, and you shivered. Any flirty, witty response you always threw at him was now gone, your brain slowly beginning to malfunction as he brushed his cock against your slit, making you hiss with pleasure.

“Matt-”

“Oh you didn’t think we were gonna actually fuck honey, did you? We’re coworkers. You’re so dirty.” he smirked, ruthlessly teasing you as he brushed his cock against your clit, causing you to wither and squirm in his arms.

This was torture. It was torture and pleasure in the best way possible, and you were grasping at the seams for anything he would give to you.

“Naughty. You’re being so, so naughty.” he cooed, as if he was talking to a little baby kitten. Your slick coated his dick as he slid it back and forth against your folds, whispering sweet, gentle things into your ear.

As if he wasn't mocking your need, slipping right by where you needed him most.

Good girl. So good to me. Letting me use you, violate you like this. It’s filthy really, how badly you need this. How badly you need me.

Yes. Yes, yes. Was all you could think, all you wanted to think. You were overstimulated beyond measure with the way he was teasing your clit, the way his hands ran up and down your body with that low, gravelly voice husky with smoke.

You were aching to have him buried deep inside you, stuffing you full until you cried. But you would take this. You would accept this, because it was all you could accept.

He was in charge, he held the reins. You may have teased him, slightly bossed him around on the clock but off- oh no. Matt had made it very, very clear he was in charge. What he gave you is what you got.

And you were to take it with a moan, a roll of your eyes and a hazy smile on your face. You did just that.

“You’re being so mean-” you managed to squeak out, before he slipped away from you with a smile.

“I’m the mean one?” You gulped.

“Sure, I can be the mean one. Meet me in the parking lot in ten minutes baby. Lock up.”

[petvampire]

Aaaaah thank you all so much for all of the wonderful prompts! Definitely gonna be working through them, and still also working through my extant prompt/ask list, don’t worry!

But for now we have, for @tuhkasirius :

Crystal x Niko, in the ballroom, with the revolver. 💖

~

The strains of music, some kind of chamber quartet playing, makes the whole night seem like they’ve gone back in time. Crystal thought she was used to an antiquated sort of feel - she hangs around Edwin, after all - but this is entirely different. It’s not just one person, it’s like the whole room is from another era.

She’s been to fancy parties before, usually dragged there by her parents, and they didn’t feel like this. A grand ballroom filled with rich people, antique furnishings, and that music. It’s kind of insane, but it’s also kind of cool.

Niko stifles a giggle as she presses close, making sure no one overhears. “I feel like we’re in a spy movie.” They’ve caused quite a stir, dancing together, and that’s kind of the point. They’re the distraction. Still, Crystal appreciates the moment, the opportunity. Niko doesn’t dress up often, and the psychic will admit her jaw almost dropped when her girlfriend came out in her outfit for tonight.

She’s obviously been spending way too much time with the Cat King, because no way would Niko have picked out this dress on her own. It’s as white as her hair, silk and close-fitting, with a high neck but a back that dips low, almost to her waist. A strand of glittering necklaces spans her shoulderblades, emphasizing that stretch of bare back. She almost glows in the low light, and she would have been eye-catching even without Crystal at her side.

The psychic herself is in a violet so dark it’s almost black, like a shadow to Niko’s light. The skirts of her dress billow out around her as she pulls the other girl into a turn, having to smile at the look of joy on Niko’s face.

They might actually be here on a job, but they’re having fun, too.

The night has to come to an end sometime, though, and the flicker of the lights is a warning just before they go out, plunging the ballroom into darkness and the rich partygoers into panic. Distantly, Crystal sees the pale shape of a ghost - Charles or Edwin, she’s not sure from here - pass through the wall, and that’s their cue.

Niko hoists up her skirts, and Crystal almost blows their cover and bursts out laughing because she’s wearing a pair of pure white, bedazzled Converse underneath. She manages to contain her mirth for now, though, as she tangles her hand with the girl’s and they rush towards one of the shelves of displayed artifacts. That’s what they’re here for: a cursed antique revolver, one stolen from a dead soldier’s grave, that’s preventing him from going to his final rest. It’s under glass, usually protected by a security system, but with the power out, all they have to do is pick the lock and grab.

They’ve practiced doing it quickly, and the operation runs like oiled silk now. Crystal tosses the gun to Edwin, who gives her a tiny, approving smile. “Having fun, are you?” She rolls her eyes, but can’t hide her returning grin.

By the time the lights come back up - Charles is a dab hand at interfering with them, giving them plenty of time - the two girls are well away from the plundered case, huddled together, still terribly obvious, their presence a continuing distraction. No one will check for the revolver until tomorrow, most likely. By then, the ghost it was stolen from will be at peace, the gun returned to his grave.

Job done; the rest of the night is theirs.

Crystal makes sure to kiss Niko long and lingering just to scandalize the party crowd.

[possibilistfanfiction]

snow!

it starts to snow just as you get to the bar; the inside is a welcome warmth. mary slides a mug of mulled wine your way as you sit down and you chat a little — your remote workday (boring; irritating); how the animals on the rescue ranch are doing in the bar since shannon had improved the insulation (wonderfully). it’s easy, settles something between your shoulderblades that has hurt for a long, long time — to be around someone who expects nothing of you other than some thoughtfulness, to have a hot drink that soothes you from the inside out, spices and citrus and persimmon.

it feels a little like the world pauses, just for a moment, when beatrice walks in a few minutes later. mary smirks, and you get the feeling that this entire town is very invested in finding beatrice a partner, although she probably hates it. to be fair, with her windblown hair and the perfectly fitting sherpa-lined jacket she shrugs off with a smile, the comfortable turtleneck she’s changed into since you saw her earlier at the ranch — you think she probably is the most eligible lesbian bachelor here. you support the meddling, especially as mary tells beatrice to sit next to you and then pours her an expensive whiskey, neat. 

she talks to you quietly, seriously, and it’s easy to be wrapped up in her warmth too. after a few drinks her posture loosens and she tells you about her cruel parents who still call her every christmas and on her birthday; she tells you about her life in a busy city before she found her cabin here a few years ago, somewhere quiet to heal, to spend time around people who care for her, and build her home the way she wanted it, and dress in practical, easy clothes, and train her dog. you know there are things she doesn’t say; you have those things that sit in your chest too, but you tell her about how empty your busy life feels, how you understand the mountains and the quiet here. you laugh about not wearing pants when you have work meetings over zoom, and she tells you stories of theo as a puppy, shows you pictures when she was tiny, her baby teeth and a little christmas sweater from a few years ago that makes you melt.

it’s easy to lean into her when she laughs as you tell her a story about a wild night you and chanel had, and it’s intoxicating, her freckles and her smile. as it gets late she offers to walk you back to your airbnb, which is sweet and a little unnecessary because it’s just down the street, but of course you say yes. you notice she has on perfectly clean blundstones, newer than the scuffed boots earlier, clearly used for work. somehow it’s so charming; you head outside and you have to fist your hands in your pockets so you don’t reach out and hold hers, but after a while it’s too much and too easy at the same time.

you turn down the alley between the bar and the urgent care, and she follows, her steps steady and clear. 

‘i —‘ you start to say, but the words get lodged in your throat because you cannot possibly be feeling this much for someone this quickly; ‘can i kiss you?’ you say instead.

beatrice mumbles out a yes and then leans forward, the breath she lets out crystalizing in the air before she meets you halfway, her mouth on yours. she’s so handsome and she leans into you, presses you against the brick and it’s intoxicating, the way she kisses and her cologne and the snow falling all around you. you open your eyes a moment before she does and you see a few flakes catch on her lashes. you could take her back to your airbnb; it’s what you would normally do if you were kissing in an alley in your normal life, in the big city with countless people in your bed at night and gone in the morning.

but she is intentional here; she means it, in the mountains and all the warmth despite it being the coldest place you’ve ever been. so you kiss her again; kiss her goodbye for the night, chastely, after she walks you to your door. the light turns on automatically on your tiny patio and bathes her face in relief.

‘i’ll see you tomorrow?’ you ask, too hopeful for your own good.

but she just smiles. ‘i’ll be at camila’s cafe at 8 for breakfast, if you’d like.’

you groan. ‘i’m on vacation. that’s so early.’

she smiles, amused and fond, and kisses your cheek. ‘i’ll bring theo.’

‘well, if that’s the case, i’ll be there. theo is the best, cutest date in town.’

[gotham-ruaidh]

thermodynamics - a 7x03 story

Ian had been gone from camp for some time – his departure had been rather sudden, following a brief but promising glimpse of pheasants in the treetops – but not too long to start worrying.

Had they pushed harder this morning, they would have made it out of the forest by nightfall. But tonight would be another night sleeping rough beneath the trees.

Claire didn’t mind.

That afternoon, as she unpacked the saddlebags and gathered wood for the campfire – Jamie within earshot, speaking in Gaelic to the horses as they drank from a nearby spring – she realized why.

For months – since the fire, the loss of her children and grandchildren, even the whole terrible night with the Browns and the even more terrible aftermath – a small, pinching weight had settled between her shoulderblades. A low, dull ache that no herb or gentle massage could cure.

Psychosomatic, to be sure – but that didn’t make the weight of it any less crushing.

But today, as she bent to gently set down an armful of branches for their fire and stood up, reaching to soothe the ache that she knew would be there…it wasn’t.

She puzzled it out as she continued about her chores. Finding the skillet and spices and knife for cooking; digging out hers and Jamie’s bedroll and setting it half behind a bush; worrying the pouch full of gold bullets sewn within her pocket.

It was the first time in years – since they’d come to the Ridge, really – that she hadn’t had some kind of schedule. Free to take an extra day to get to Wilmington. Free to wander, to explore glades and caves and stop to admire especially large trees.

Free to spend more time with Jamie. Not just in the evenings over dinner or before bed, but to share all moments of the day. Sharing space, and food, and sights, and smiles.

A warm hand settled on her shoulder – and she startled.

“Hush, a nighean,” Jamie soothed. “I’m sorry, I thought ye had heard me.”

Swallowing, she turned to face him. Touched his stubbly cheek with the back of a hand. Worrying the new fine lines at the creases of his eyes.

“It’s all right.” Her voice just above a whisper. “I missed you.”

A fleeting half smile, his hands enveloping her free hand, squeezing. “I told ye I wouldnae go far. I didn’t.”

He knew what she would do even before she did – and he was ready, lips soft and strong as she kissed him.

“I miss you.”

He drew her closer, arms locked around her waist. “We’ve time, before Ian returns…”

Her lips just lightly touched his, beath warm against his mouth. “You must feel it. The need. How strong it is.”

He swallowed, nodding. Touched a small spot in the middle of his chest. “Right here.” His hand settled on her stomach, above her navel. “And here.”

She nodded. “It’s always there, but…more now. Like when we were on the road.”

His hand glided up, tracing the buttons of her shirt, settling on the cool skin of her neck. Eyes locked on hers. Watching her lips part in a small gasp.

He smiled. “Gathering your wee herbs. We fooled nobody – no’ Dougal, or Ned, or Murtagh, or Rupert. Willie, maybe. But I didna care. I had to have you.” Leaned in for a quick kiss. “I wanted your body, but I craved your heart. I have it now, aye?”

Another quick kiss. “I didn’t think I could ever feel this again. Is it because we have lost everything else?”

Frowning, he pulled back a bit. “What are you saying? We haven’t, Claire.”

“We have.” Her hands skimmed his shoulders – worried a new tear in the back of his shirt that she’d need to mend later – eyes fixed on a tree behind him. “We’ve lost our home, our family, our responsibilities. Our routine. No more farming or whisky making for you. No more patients for me. No more waiting for Missus Bug’s dinner, or sitting with you in your study as you talk to the tenants. No more…” She cleared her throat. “No more reading with Bree and Jem by the fire.”

High above, a hawk cried out.

“Don’t hide from me. Look at me, please.”

She didn’t want to – but she did. Found his eyes shining with the same tears.

“Do you no’ remember what I said to you once? That nothing is lost, only changed, Claire.”

She did remember – a night in these same woods, not too long after enduring yet another loss.

“We haven’t lost our memories. Our family isnae wi’ us right now, but they’re alive and safe. Our tenants can bide wi’out us for a while, but we’re coming back. When we’re in Wilmington, and in Scotland, you’ll have patients again and I’ll find my way again. Changes, aye, but not losses.”

He brought his forehead against hers. “I haven’t lost you, Claire. You haven’t lost me.”

She closed her eyes, nodding.

“I can’t even bear to think about what’s to come. If I was to lose you on the crossing.”

“Dinna think of it.” He kissed her cheek.

She shifted slightly and found his mouth in another kiss.

Another kiss.

“We’ve time afore Ian returns wi’ supper, a nighean. That is, if you’re not too decrepit to lie wi’ me in the leaves.”

She smiled against his lips. “I’ll grab a blanket.”

When Ian returned with a pheasant, sometime later as dusk settled in the forest, he frowned that the fire had not yet been started. But he lit it, set to work plucking the bird, sorted the spices and knives. Knowing his auntie and uncle would be quite hungry.

[comfort-questing]

"well, this wasn't how I thought this would go"

for @whumperless-whump-event day 13 - we return to my locals in the river

-

they couldn't stay on the boulder forever, as much as the idea seemed superficially appealing, exhaustion and aches weighing Elevy down just as much as Nole's limp form in her arms. Nole had burrowed her way mostly inside her coat, head snuggled into the curve of her shoulder, chilly hands clutching desperately behind Elevy's shoulderblades. her breath was quick and raspy against her throat.

the wind was numbing Elevy's nose and ears now, having moved on from her hands. they needed a fire. they needed to get back to camp. but even the ghostly moonlight was enough to show Elevy that Nole wasn't going to be walking anytime soon, from the skew of her ankle and the slow blood trickling dark onto the rock.

but all they'd do here was freeze together, at this rate. Elevy sighed.

"Nole?"

"mmm?"

"I'm going to try to help you get up, okay? we can't stay here. I've got a rope on a tree nearby, and we can get up to solid ground anyway. build a fire or something."

"would be nice," said Nole, through chattering teeth. then, "I'll - try it."

it didn't work, anyway. Elevy was just grateful that they both managed to end up still on the rock, not in the river, when their three-legged scramble of an attempt failed; fresh aches throbbed as she took the brunt of the landing. in the end the two of them crawled, more or less, to the dry side of the rock, and Nole sat there while Elevy got her soaking wet coat off the rock again. Nole said she'd try again and Elevy did most of the work of it, but they did make it to the rope and the leaning tree and the root-studded side of the bank. Nole's breath was coming fast and faster now and she folded again onto the ground when Elevy let go, letting out a sigh that was almost a sob.

the owls had a dialogue going in the trees, just a touch louder than the wind. Elevy blew on her numb palms, waking the sting of raw skin. "I'll go up," she said, "loop the rope and drop it back."

"loop it first." Nole's eyes were dark wells in her sallow, moon-hollowed face. "you want a pulley. I'm - not climbing that."

it took several tries but they managed it between them - Nole huddled into the rope loop, guiding herself upward root by root with shaky hands, Elevy leaning further and further back towards the river till its icy waters filled her boots. then Nole was sprawled on the high bank above and mumbling incoherent encouragements while Elevy climbed, only knocking her head on one root on the way up, and skinning her knuckles on the tree trunk.

if it weren't for - well, everything - she could have laid down there, right on the riverbank, and gone to sleep. but Nole was shivering again, teeth chattering furiously, and Elevy opened her coat again for a little shelter for her while she got a fire started.

not enough. not half enough. but something, in the end, at least, and the warmth of flame-glow on Nole's face made her seem more alive and less a ghost, as Elevy chafed at her hands again and listened worriedly to the uneven effort of her breaths.

bandaging Nole's leg took longer. the mangled leather of her boot had taken some of the damage, at least, but there were still a half-dozen puncture holes and some of them torn into gashes with the lycan's thrashing and Nole's attempts to escape. either her ankle was broken or badly sprained, and there was something significantly wrong with the shape of her knee as well, which was worse yet. Nole clenched her teeth and buried her face in Elevy's coat while she worked. proper cleaning would have to wait, but there were bandages in Elevy's bag that she'd grabbed on the way out of camp, and several sticks made an approximation of a splint.

this was all bad - Elevy thought, dimly - this was all very bad. she blinked at the small flames of their fire, licking upwards along the spruce branches.

"someone will find us in the morning," she said, trying to convince herself. "someone - will come looking, won't they?"

"hope so," said Nole, from inside the circle of her arms, bandaged leg stretched out stiffly.

"this wasn't how I - how I thought this would go." she hadn't thought about it, really. she hadn't thought at all. only run, because she knew she couldn't leave Nole lost and alone, whether dead or alive. because there was nothing left for any of them here on the ragged edge of the world besides each other.

"wasn't how I thought either," Nole mumbled. "I thought I was going to die, I mean, when that thing got me and I fell. but - Saff had shot it already - and I guess it let go when we landed - and went wherever it goes. and I was - oh - in the water, and the current was too strong - "

the fire was hazy in Elevy's eyes, and the scrapes stung on her hands. "I was going to go yell at Darin. when we're back."

"he - had some things to deal with up there, too," said Nole. "mostly things with teeth. don't blame him. I don't anyway." there was starting to be some color in her lips again, though she was still shivering finely against Elevy, and her hands didn't feel as chilly as before. "I'm - tired."

"stay awake a bit longer. we've got to get you warm again." watching Nole's eyelids slipping closed sparked a horrid terror in her, and she shook her friend gently. "please."

"oh - all right - all right."

when exactly they fell asleep, together or separately, Elevy never knew quite; but she woke several times halfway during the dark hours, with the tree at her back, and half-drowsed counted Nole's breaths against her before she slept again, until the thin light of day came to find them both.

[bigtiddytomboy2]

Your gf recommended the massage place, even told you which masseuse to ask for. You're a bit surprised that it's a guy, but she said he wasn't into women, so it's kinda perfect. You trust her judgement and try to relax while he starts some music in the background. It's relaxing, soothing, and you can really feel the tension and stress seep out of you when he starts to massage your shoulders, rubbing down between your shoulderblades, when he moves down your sides and up your spine again. He is talking to you throughout, but you barely hear the words, his voice fits neatly into the gaps in the music. After a while he lights some short candles and places them directly in front of your face. The heat is palpable. The smell is in your ears almost immediately. It makes your vision swim, your thoughts slow down even further. It gets so hard to think. So hard to stay focused on where his hands are. They keep wandering, you feel like, they keep wandering down, down your body. He's massaging your feet, up your legs. The towel has gone, and you can't tell when it happened. You try to look up, but then you take another breath in and you realize that you feel so weak. Too weak to move. The massage has sapped all the strength from your body, the smell of the candles, the soothing tones of the music and his voice, they're all caressing your body, your mind into docile compliance while he spreads your legs. The docile laziness slowly turns into a heat. The smell of the candles is in your nose, rising up to cloud your mind, snuggling around your thoughts as if smothering them.

You try to squirm away when you feel his cock grind against your pussy. At least in your mind. In reality, you don't move an inch. Held more securely than with any ropes or chain, your body simply obeys him. Your body, your mind, both opened up to him.

He's still talking to you. Something about hypnosis, about an aphrodisiac, about a good deal struck with your gf. Most of the words don't make it through to your foggy, clouded head, but you can't deny how amazing your body feels. A lazy heat, surges of arousal wherever he touches, and an insistent, irresistible need originating between your legs and rolling away into every corner of your body.

You try to tell him to stop when he fills up your pussy. Instead you moan. You try to get away. Instead you push your hips back against him. You try not to like it when he thrusts in again, when he finds that spot, when he starts teasing your clit while he has you at his mercy.

Instead you cum. Over and over again. Instead you give in. Overwhelmed. Overpowered. He takes breaks, he paces himself, just to play with you some more in between his downtimes. The pleasure doesn't stop. And all the while he's talking, leaving suggestions hidden in the depths of your mind.

You wake long after the massage session was supposed to be finished. When you find him at the reception, he explains that you fell asleep, that there's nothing to worry about. You don't know why, but you feel a bit weird. Your body seems to be sending signals that your mind keeps denying. You shake the feeling and book your next appointment.

🥴oh man this is so good, getting hypnotized without ever realizing… when I get home I don’t think anything of how happy my gf is as she asks me if I had a good time, and when I’m going back next…

[finn-m-corvex]

Jaya Week 2023 Day 3: Surprise

I told myself I wasn't going to do this. "Finn, you have to do something different," I told myself in the mirror yesterday, but before I could stop myself I had already written 500 words of this and it was too late to start it again so, I did it (and I'm damn proud of it). I did the thing that everyone was probably expecting for this prompt and I can't even say I regret it, because this was a ton of fun to write and I love how it turned out.

Words: 2.3k

TWs: vomiting mention, nothing graphic whatsoever but I thought I would put it here

[REUPLOAD!]

“This is pointless!” Nya yelled, throwing down the magazine with enough force to bend the spine. “None of these have what I need!”

She stomped over the pile of already discarded magazines, crumpling their colorful covers with the soles of her sandals. Running her hands through her hair, Nya kept pacing, ignoring the stack of books that lay innocently on the floor in the corner of the room. Running out to get them without any of the others finding out had been a hassle, and she wasn’t entirely successful with keeping it a secret: Pixal had always been the best at figuring out what they were hiding.

Maybe she had already suspected it, as Nya was absolutely positive that she herself had never bought tests to stock their shared products cabinet in the bathroom. Of course, the night before she had gone looking for a test Nya had found herself hunched over the toilet well after midnight, unable to stop throwing up everything that Zane had made for dinner. Her only coherent thought was about how she was partly glad that Jay had decided to stay with his parents for the next couple days, but that she was also miserable without him there to whisper soothing words in her ear and hold back her hair.

A hand did pull her hair back, and Nya groaned when cool metal pressed against the back of her neck to feel for a fever. “Nya, what are you doing here at this hour?” Pixal had asked, crouching down next to the water ninja with a frown on her face.

“Been in here for a while,” Nya murmured, letting her cheek rest on the toilet seat, “and I can’t stop throwing up. Must’ve had something bad.”

“If you had food poisoning, then I guarantee that this bathroom would be much more crowded right now,” Pixal said, sitting down fully. “Are you sure that could be the only reason?”

“What do you mean?”

Pixal grimaced, like she had been hoping that Nya wouldn’t ask her that. “You and Jay are…active, yes?”

Nya raised an eyebrow. “...if you’re implying what I think you’re implying, then yes.”

“Have you considered the possibility of being pregnant?”

Nya.exe stopped working.

Her friend (sister, let’s be honest) had comforted her for the rest of the night as she tried to put the pieces together, eventually breaking down in loud sobs that had Pixal wrapping her arms around Nya’s shoulders. Nya tried to explain that she wasn’t crying because of the fact that she might be pregnant (oh, First Master she was pregnant), but Pixal shushed her. She didn’t have to explain anything, the samurai had said as she smoothed her hand between Nya’s shoulderblades.

It wasn’t long before the other boys found out. Cole and Zane were the first of them, both having walked in on Nya looking at web pages with cute pregnancy reveal ideas. She hated all of them.

Cole looked concerned when he stepped into the room to find Nya sitting upside down on their couch, her phone thrown over the edge and lying face down on the floor. “Everything okay, Nya?”

She groaned, which made Cole look over to his nindroid brother. Zane could only shrug, “Has Jay done something to upset you?”

“You could say that,” and maybe just a little of her inner turmoil leaked into her voice, because soon her two brothers were sitting on either side of her, Cole leaning against the back while Zane sat up straight. They waited until she had resituated herself to be sitting correctly, and both of their faces darkened when they saw how upset she looked.

“Whatever stupid thing he’s done now,” Cole said seriously, “it doesn’t mean anything. We’ll give him a talk for you, Nya.”

Zane was nodding in solidarity, and Nya knew that she should probably say something to make sure her Yin kept all of his fingers. “It’s not entirely Jay’s fault.”

“Then what happened?” Zane asked gently, taking her hand in his robotic one. “I have not seen you like this for quite some time, Nya. Cole and I only want to help you.”

No time like the present, she thought to herself, biting her lip before biting the bullet. “If I tell you guys something, you have to keep it a secret, alright?”

“Absolutely.” the earth ninja reaffirmed, Zane echoing his sentiment.

“I’m pregnant.”

Both of them had stared at her. Cole’s lips were moving up and down like a fish, while Zane’s eyes were wide with surprise. Nya shrunk into herself, suddenly very self-conscious of what exactly she had just told her brothers, and the movement brought them back to their senses when they cuddled closer on both sides.

Cole was the first one to get over his shock. “You’re serious?”

“Yes,” Nya sighed, “I’m serious. I was throwing up all last night and Pixal got me a few tests to confirm it. They were positive.”

“I’m gonna be an uncle?!”

That was not the reaction that Nya had been anticipating. “Yes?”

“Holy crap!” Cole’s face lit up with an elated grin. “Zane! We’re gonna be uncles!”

Nya watched in amazement as her two biggest brothers danced around their living room, Cole whooping at the top of his lungs while Zane congratulated her with gusto. She knew that they never would’ve expressed their true feelings if any of them had been negative, but she wasn’t quite expecting the level of joy that was filling the room to the brim. Although Nya should’ve known better than to think that the other ninja would be anything less than supportive of her and Jay.

She made them promise to keep it a secret until Jay had gotten back, and they both had solemnly sworn with their hands over their hearts (in Zane’s case, his power source) to not breathe a word until Jay knew.

Which had led Nya to right now, tossing yet another baby magazine to the side in frustration as she sat down on her bed with a huff. For all of the hubbub that the small things generated at the grocery store, why were all of them so useless?!

Knocking on her door frame, Lloyd peeked his head in, quickly followed by Kai. “Nya?”

Diving for the pile of things on the floor, Nya did her best to cover them up. “This isn’t what it looks like!”

“What is it…supposed to look like?” Lloyd asked, and Nya watched in horror as Kai picked up a magazine that she had hurled at the door in a fit of rage over awful baby name suggestions.

Kai held it up to read the cover, eyes narrowing. “Ninjago’s Top Baby Names…wait. Is Benthomaar pregnant?!”

WHAT?!

“No, you idiot!” Nya yelled, forgetting about the magazines she was hiding and storming up to her brother and snatching the magazine from his hands, rolling it up into a tube and whacking him over the head. “Benthomaar can’t even get pregnant!”

“But there’s some ocean animals where the guy gets pregnant, right?! Isn’t he one of those?!”

“Those are seahorses, Kai!” she seethed, threatening to whack him again, “Does he look like a seahorse to you?”

Wow, the books weren’t kidding when they said the pregnancy hormones were intense.

Her older brother was saved by Lloyd gently wrapping his arms around her middle, and Nya relaxed when she felt his head plop down onto her shoulder. “There’s no need to be violent, Nya. We just wanted to come check on you because you’ve been acting a little weird for the past few days, and Cole and Zane won’t tell us anything. Is something wrong?”

She bit her lip. This wasn’t exactly how she wanted to tell them, but it would have to suffice. “I-I’m pregnant, not Benthomaar.”

A beat. Two beats. Suddenly she was being twirled in a circle by Lloyd, who was also bouncing up and down and shouting with glee. When he finally put her down, he gave her one of the brightest smiles she had ever seen. “Nya! That’s amazing! You and Jay are gonna be parents!”

For some reason, Lloyd’s reaction wasn’t the one that Nya was the most concerned about. She turned around to look at Kai, who had a rare soft smile on his face. His eyes were blinking with unshed tears, and Nya could only hope that they were from happiness rather than the disappointment that she had been worrying about.

Kai saw her hesitation and held out his arms. “C’mere sis.”

Nya didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around her brother’s shoulders and squeeze, feeling his arms coil themselves around her waist in an embrace that brought back all of her childhood memories. Kai’s chuckle only made her squeeze tighter. “I’m so proud of you, Nya. It’s going to be great for you and Jay, just wait and see.”

“Yeah,” she said wetly, willing herself to not cry, “we’re gonna have a great time.”

“What’s going to be a great time?”

The water ninja was not prepared for the speed at which Kai let her go, wheeling around and tackling her Yin five feet down the hall with a surprised shout. Nya startled when Lloyd slammed the door to her and Jay’s shared bedroom shut, and the blond turned to face her with wide eyes.

“Kai can keep him busy,” Lloyd said quickly, “but I don’t know for how long. I’ll help you put these away so he doesn’t see!”

Except for some reason, Nya wasn’t sure if she wanted to hide them. She paused, and Lloyd stared at her in bewilderment, and both of them jumped when they heard Kai hollering down the hall for reinforcements. It only took a second before she heard Jay breaking out into a fit of panicked giggles and yelling for Kai to stop tickling him.

She was a good Yang, and Jay was one of the most sensitive people she had ever met when it came to tickles, so she couldn’t really leave him out there to fend for himsefl, right?

Lloyd didn’t try to stop her from opening the door and stepping out of the room, only following with a curious look on his face. Nya was not at all surprised to see the scene before her: Jay was floundering around, laughing, desperately pushing at Kai’s chest while the fire ninja went to town on his brother’s ribs. Cole came rocketing from around the corner with a devious grin on his face, with Pixal and Zane trailing behind, both looking equally befuddled.

“Look who's finally home!” Cole said, and Kai only paused in his onslaught to let the earth ninja haul Jay up by the armpits. Nya knew that if she was going to interfere, it had to be before Cole curled his hand into her Yin’s underarms to make Jay start screaming bloody murder.

“Boys,” she chastised, and everyone turned to look at her. Jay’s face went from nervous anticipation to joyful glee in a matter of seconds. “Leave him alone.”

Cole and Kai looked somewhat disappointed, with the former letting Jay down to stand on his own two feet. Jay rushed forward, exclaiming her name and hugging her tightly to his chest. Butterflies swarmed in her stomach when she felt him kiss her neck, and Nya pulled back a little to cup his face in her hands.

Jay pecked her on the lips, and Nya was all too happy to reciprocate despite Kai and Lloyd fake-gagging in the background. “Hi, sweetheart. How were your parents?”

“Good,” Jay said sweetly, rubbing his thumb along the small of her back. “They’re all good, except Ma was asking a lot of questions about grandkids, for some reason. I think she and Pa have been going to the park and hanging out around the playground way too much.”

Nya could’ve drowned Cole when he coughed in the background, followed up by Kai muttering something about how Jay interrupted them. Jay turned to the brunette with a questioning frown. “What did I interrupt?”

She glared at Kai, who only shrunk back behind Zane with a sheepish look. Jay looked back at her, noticing the underlying nervousness in her expression. He squeezed her hand, and Nya glanced up to see the worry in his eyes.

“Hey,” he started, and Nya was surprised at how softly he was speaking, “is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nya said in a tone that she hoped was confident, but it didn’t sound very convincing; Jay’s look of worry only grew. “Everything’s fine, Jay. It’s just…”

“What?”

Taking a deep breath, Nya steeled her nerves, looking her Yin in the eyes. “Jay, I’m pregnant.”

“You’re-you’re what?” Jay stammered, his face blushing ever so lightly in a way that made Nya want to kiss him senseless. “You’re pregnant?”

“I am.”

“I’m gonna be a dad?”

“Surprise! You’re gonna be a dad, Jay,” and nothing could’ve prepared Nya for the tears that started rolling down his face, and she was quick to start wiping them away with her thumbs.

He leaned forward and kissed her softly, his hands travelling up and tangling in her hair. She smiled into the kiss, some of his tears touching her lips and turning their sweet kiss salty. When Nya finally pulled back, there wasn’t an ounce of sadness to be found, and instead laughter bubbled out of Jay’s mouth.

“I-I’m gonna be a dad,” and he turned to look at all of his brothers and sister, who all had matching looks of happiness on their faces, “I’m going to be a dad!”

Cole was the first one to rush forward, quickly followed by Kai as they glumped the blue ninja into a big hug, making room for Lloyd to pop in under Kai’s arm and Zane wrapping his arms around them from behind. Jay’s smile only grew with every bit of praise that they showered him with, although Nya was sure she saw some pokes into his belly every few moments.

She startled when Pixal hugged her from behind, laying her head on Nya’s shoulder. “I think this was the best surprise you could’ve ever given him, Nya.”

And Nya started laughing, because it was the best surprise that she could’ve asked for herself, too.

[vexic929]

And here's Nyx! (this one's long, sorry, she's got a backstory I'm really proud of)

Born Nikoletta Bordeaux, she grew up impoverished on the streets of New Orleans. The threat of Belle Reve always loomed over her head, but crime was the only way she was able to stay afloat. She began running a voodoo scam since she was a teen, claiming to be a descendant of Marie Laveau who could communicate with spirits from beyond and even read the future. Of course, none of this was real, and that idea of "voodoo" is flawed to begin with, but gullible tourists lined her pockets enough to stay alive. It also gave her a confidence, and an ability to lie without blinking, that would eventually suit her very well in Belle Reve.

Shortly after becoming an adult, she was kidnapped off the street and taken to STAR Labs, where she was experimented on in an effort to study an undiscovered "shadow realm". She was sent to the realm and eventually manages to escape, but not unchanged. Any skin-to-skin touch will leave a permanent ink-stain on another person's skin, even the slightest touch. She also learns to dive into shadows and step back into the shadow realm, and now lives between worlds

She continues running her scam, supplementing it with some B&E and thievery now that she can slip into the shadows to escape, but eventually gets caught and sent to Belle Reve. From there, she spends years building a reputation as the Queen of Belle Reve - she collects a gaggle of followers, and a handprint ink-mark becomes the symbol of who to kill (once, there was an inmate who came in after charges against minors... she walked right up and slapped him clean across the face, leaving a handprint on his cheek. he didn't make it through his first day in prison). Her word becomes law... who will pass their sentance in silence, and who becomes the scapegoat.

Technically, she could slip away at any time, since there's no way to keep someone imprisoned when all it takes is a shadow to escape. So instead of trying to police it, she comes to an understanding with Amanda Waller... Nyx doesn't raise too much fuss, keeps things neat, and every once in a while, Amanda decides she wants an inmate gone off-the-radar, and it gets done. After all, better to be the Queen of Belle Reve than another broke kid on the streets, right?

When Abner Krill arrives, Nyx immediately decides he's off-limits. Her followers say he's dangerous, destructive, unstable, but she sees a scared young guy who's like her in a lot of ways. She ends up protecting him, though they rarely meet face-to-face. There's a bit of understanding between them: being experimented on, given too much power and being plagued by it, they're the same. Nyx also protects Cleo, seeing her almost as a younger sister and finding charm in her love of animals.

They're placed on the same team during the Corto Maltese mission, and Nyx finds perhaps the first real connection she's had in her life - the first that wasn't manipulation, blind following, or fear. She finds herself holding hands with him, with gloves carefully in place to avoid giving him what she now associates as a death-mark, and even shares a kiss (through a napkin) while they're in the club. During the final fight, she gets there just in time to save him from Starro (hated that death btw) - she shoves him in the back, fueled by panic alone, and quite literally pushes him into the shadow realm.

She wakes up in the hospital, bruised and battered and exhausted from the fight... and finds him asleep on the chair beside her. Holding her hand. No gloves. No marks. Once they get reacquainted, he takes off his shirt and shows her his back - two inky handprints over his shoulderblades, and a spray of dark rays like tattooed wings covering his entire back from the force of the shadows she'd left in her panic. His mission suit was ruined too, looking like someone had dumped a bucket of ink on it (she'd left the marks through his mission suit, it was so much magic). However, something about expressing so much of that shadow energy has rid her of the excess, and she can now safely touch people without leaving a death-mark (though she can still choose to mark things with shadows if she needs to)

oooh I love her and her backstory so much omg!!! (I also hated that death lol I like this ending way better) so much good angst and I love her with Abner, he deserves love, so cute <3333

[limitlessscion]

[ STEADY ]: receiver gently catches and guides the emotionally distressed sender against a wall in order to physically steady them.

Satoru had been against the first-years being assigned to tag along with their missions. Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko were specialists; rescuers, the best chance to salvage any high-stakes missions that had gone horribly wrong. Their missions were never easy. They were a team that knew how to work with each other in perfect harmony, their methods honed over a year of brutal work together. It was the first time they'd be forced to throw an unwieldy 4th cog into a system not designed for it.

At least they were getting the rookies one at a time; Satoru couldn't imagine how insufferable it would have been to carry all three through this mess. They'd told her to simply stand back and observe, staying near Shoko as the boys cut their way through the manifestations of the curse that had infected the entire building, clawed tendrils slithering across open doorways and across the hall in an attempt to block the sorcerers' progress. Fire from one of Suguru's curses blasted down the hall as Satoru conjured a all of Infinity across their half of the hall to contain the flame safely. The flame curse disappeared moments later, taken even its smoldering embers with it, leaving nothing but cooled black ash as they advanced. The two bantered and joked and seemed to compete over every little thing, but there was a professional competence that never left them as they advanced.

When they'd found the core of the cursed spirit on the upper floors, they made short work of it. The trio didn't react at all to the remains of a mangled half-digested corpse on the floor, Shoko conjuring a protective barrier while the boys tore the creature apart. None of them batted an eye as Satoru dug through the goopy remains of the curse and pulled out a severed arm, tossing it aside, then reaching in again all the way to his shoulder and finally pulling out the upper torso of a man that still miraculously had a heartbeat despite melted flesh dripping off the exposed bones of his shoulderblade.

Shoko took over the man's medical care quickly; Suguru was working on weaving the large curse into a form he could swallow, and Satoru stepped back to examine his arm, making sure none of the disgusting filth of the curse's stomach got through the thin shield of infinity he'd wrapped himself with. Somehow, he was the one that noticed first that the first year was trembling, knees weak, swaying slightly with wide eyes locked onto the gruesome corpse and potential corpse-to-be before her.

"Um— guys? I think...." Fuck, he didn't remember her name, and neither Shoko or Suguru were listening, caught in their own work. With a roll of his eyes Satoru stepped to the girl's side just as she stumbled a step back, catching her by the shoulder and guiding her against the wall so she had a surface to lean against. It'd be a pain if she passed out on the floor or something.

"Shit, you've uh— never seen a dead body before?" It'd never been a big deal for Satoru, but he remembers the way his classmates' faces had blanched the first time they'd laid eyes on a similar gruesome scene. Satoru had laughed at them for it; Suguru had later chewed him out thoroughly; the lesson beat into him with a black eye and a fractured jaw. The memory reminds him that, "well get used to it", was not the acceptable response in this situation.

"It'll be okay." Satoru finally said lamely, at a loss for any other words. His grip loosened from her arm to awkwardly pat her on the shoulder; at least his freakishly tall frame was blocking the view.

[deada55]

(WIP) To Absent Friends

for kloktober day 30 and 31: HALLOWEEN!!! and creator's choice.

synopsis: Ten-year-old William Murderface goes out with Stella for Halloween (Incomplete work.)

tw/cws: none yet

The sun went down orange past the trees of the trailer park behind the misty gusts of wind. The leaves, too wet to flutter, piled up around puddles and slicked up the sparse gravel and gray, sandy dirt that wound through the lots. Groups of parents and little kids sojourned through the misery with as much jubilance as possible. Little princesses holding their dresses up like Cinderella and little superheroes and animals splashed in the shallower puddles.

“William, quit moping! I’m taking you trick-or-treating in just a minute, dammit!”

“Aw, Grandma! I wasn’t!” The knot in his stomach tightened as he pulled his red sweatshirt down and his red sweatpants up over and over, alternating between the two. Neither of them fit right, but they were the only red things he had that made sense to wear with the plastic devil horns Stella had picked up from the grocery store. His fork was a barbeque fork spray-painted red… that was his favorite part, because he was allowed to do it himself, but the paint was already chipping off the thin sides.

He faced the window at an angle, away from the decorative mirror in the corner to his right. His shirt kept riding up, but this time he let his lower be cold. To his left, Stella turned Thunderbolt on his side and brushed the sores on his shoulderblades with iodine with a spare oral sponge.

“Pull your damn shirt down. Don’t leave your fat meat out like that, it’s not polite.”

William reached behind himself and shoved it down.

“Don’t get an attitude with me or I won’t take you nowhere!”

When some kids he recognized from school appeared walking up the road towards his trailer, he ducked away from the window and started towards the bathroom.

“William, wait. Dump the urinal while you’re at it.”

“Jesus Christ…”

He bent down to get the full urinal from under the bed and Stella smacked him on the back of the neck. “Don’t be nasty like that when I ask you to do something! When I ask you to help out, you do it. Don’t run your mouth, you hear me?!”

“Yes ma’am.”

“You need to go back to speech class… Remind me to talk to your principal about that. Go dump that out and do whatever you gotta do.”

He came back with a rinsed urinal and set it back under the bed. Thankfully, his classmates had gone by, and the only people he could see through the window was a girl, her father, and their pit bull with grease paint on his face and body to make him look like a skeleton… at least his front half.

When it was time to leave, Stella slung her heavy, rattling purse over her shoulder and grabbed her cane. Without a word, William unlocked the door and made his way out, holding the outer door so Stella could back down the rickety aluminum stairs without scratching herself on its the sharp corners of the door’s trim. When she was out, she handed him her keys and he ran back up to lock it, and then they went to the car.

Her car was an old Oldsmobile that bled coolant when it was parked downhill. Stella lit a cigarette as they went down the road and the smell slowly steeped into the air in the crumbling, beige cab until it was hot and smoky, not only musty with dry rot. He laid his head against the window though the vibrations made him carsick. His Halloween pillowcase was empty and smooth in his lap napkin at a church banquet. The rusty trailer park became dusty town, the dusty town became the moldy suburb, and the moldy suburb became grassy fields and tracks of land where loggers had cleared the forest naked. The hills faded into black dunes between piney graveyards, full of stumps in place of headstones. Stars poked through the sky. Back at the park, little kids were probably no longer traipsing through the neighborhoods. It was the time for the kids in scary costumes to run amok. Going with Grandma was better than getting a bucket of creek water poured over him, and better than sitting at home. At least Grandma’s friends had candy.

When they got to Denise’s stuffy pink cottage, Stella made him ring her sun-faded doorbell. A little dog barked and howled at the other side of the door. Stella moved off the front step with William and back at the sidewalk so she could lean more comfortably on her cane without teetering backwards. The dog carried on and on.

Denise wore a nursing jacket and an embroidered floral sweatshirt on top of some purple sweatpants and cotton slippers. A spot of canned chili stained her knee.

“Say it,” Stella prodded his heel with the shoe of her cane.

“Trick or Treat?”

“I think you’re too old for that.”

“Denise-“

“Oh, Stella! Hi! I knew you were coming by, but I didn’t remember when.”

“This is my grandson, William.”

“Okay,” Denise glanced at him then held the door open for Stella. William stepped aside and followed her in through the house. Nothing was particularly clean. Dusty candles and overflowing ashtrays lined her hall table, coffee table, dining table, corner tables… The pictures and paintings on the cream wallpaper were bordered by an orange, fumey stain.  The dog’s puppy pads were tucked behind or under almost every piece of furniture and well-decorated with waste. The scratched pink-and-green camelback sofas were reasonably clean, and Denise sat in an impression surrounded by tissues, catalogs, toffee wrappers, generic pill bottles, and Chapstick, with Stella catty-corner on the other sofa, and William on Stella’s other side, by a stack of dingy newspapers.

They talked for a long time. The wedding clock on top of her TV cabinet was stuck somewhere around 3:00 from what William could see. He sat there with his hands on his pillowcase and his pillowcase in his lap, shirt riding up and pants inching down. The longer he looked at the carpet, the hairier it got. Shed fur built around the legs of the sofa like spiderwebs.

His grandmother and Denise began the talking waltz of trying to leave, but Denise was clearly cutting it shorter than usual by the suddenness Stella was compelled to stand. Her knees popped loud enough for William to hear as she picked up her fallen cane and handed it to her… and Denise was already opening her front door! Of course, the plastic outer door wasn’t open yet, so all the wind could do was shake it against its frame.

When they got back into the car, Stella grumbled to herself, burped, and looked into her rearview mirror at William while she shifted out of park.

“That was nice, wasn’t it? What candy did she give you?”

“Nothin’.”

She stopped the car right there and sat quiet. Then, she dug a hand into her purse and pulled out a couple strawberry jelly-filled hard candies.

“Here, sweetheart.”

[empressofthelibrary]

October prompts #24 for hawk characters of your choice

Fog, huh? I think I'll grab Charley for this one... Leaning mostly on his pre-Crisis backstory, and picking up a bit of worldbuilding from Hawkworld that's been driving me nuts.

---

Charley snapped awake, shoving himself up from the stone. His throat burned, the bite of the wire fresh as he gasped for air. He scrambled to his knees, desperate to fill his hungry lungs. His hands, of their own accord, ripped the helm from his head and threw it aside. It skittered on the stone, clanking as it vanished.

But as the adrenaline faded and his mind cleared, Charley realized something.

"...Garth? Garth, where are you?" He pulled himself to his feet, looking around. A dense fog had rolled in, so thick that Charley could barely see his hand in front of his face. "Garth! Oh, god, dude, you can't be dead. Please, answer me!" He took a slow step forward. There had been a cliff's edge around here somewhere. "Garth!"

Where the hell had this fog come from, anyway? It had been a clear, sunny day just a moment ago, before the Wildebeest's attack had driven him unconscious.

Wildebeest... Charley whirled, shoulders tensing. He'd always had sharp eyes and good ears for a human, but those talents only went so far. And this fog is heavy enough even Superman'd have trouble with it, he thought to himself.

"Where are you," he called. "C'mon out, you damned coward!"

"Bold words, little warrior," a voice spoke behind him. "Though I wonder who you speak to. I know it cannot be me."

Charley spun around again, fists raised, ready to fight this new threat. A shape began to emerge from the mist, a winged humanoid silhouette. As she approached, she raised one arm, and the lantern she held began to glow a brilliant white. Charley held up his hands, squinting in the sudden light. But once the spots cleared, he could see this strange woman.

She was tall, broad-shouldered and muscular. Two tall black wings emerged from her shoulderblades, silver claws pointing up at the second joint. Two more, he realized, wrapped around her hips, over a skirt of black leather and armored plates. She wore a breastplate of shining silver, high at the neck, over a shirt of dark chainmail. Silver bracers covered her wrists, and the hilt of a sword peeked out from between her higher wings. Her hair was jet-black, shot through with silver, held back from her face by a winged headpiece that could only be described as a crown. She smiled, gentle, and Charley could see the laugh-lines and crows-feet that marked her face. But her eyes -- Her eyes were windows into the infinite, the dark void of space, swirled with stars and galaxies.

"Who... Who are you," Charley whispered. His throat still ached, but his voice would have been hushed anyway. Something about this woman felt powerful, impossible. Standing in her presence, Charley felt like the scared, awestruck child who had been left to explore the Watchtower, a few years and a whole lifetime ago.

The woman laughed. "Have my adoptive children forgotten me so quickly? Did your fathers and mothers not teach you of Mar Rhigan, little warrior?" She shook her head. "No matter, no matter. You've fallen in battle, in the defense of your friend. There is no more noble end." She held out her free hand. "Come! You'll have a seat at my table, and you'll dwell in my lands in peace."

"Wait, what?" Charley looked around. "I -- Are you saying I'm dead? I can't -- I'm not dead, that's ridiculous." He turned, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Okay, Donna, this has gone far enough. I'm sorry about the party, I was stupid. You guys can come out now! Garth? Lillith?"

Mar Rhigan's brow furrowed. "Ah. Of course. You are so young -- Forgive me, you all look like babies to me." She stepped forward, cupping Charley's cheek to turn him towards her. "You have died, little one. And you have earned the rest of all Thanagarian warriors."

Charley pushed her hand away. "What are you talking about?! I'm not Thanagarian, I'm as human as the next guy."

Mar Rhigan shook her head. "If that were true, it would not have been me who came to collect you." She frowned, then, tilting her head to the side. "But you... You are not one of mine, are you? You did not know me. And you do not embrace the reward you've earned."

"Reward?" Charley was near hysterics. "What reward is there in being dead?! For god's sakes, I'm barely old enough to drink!" Legally, anyway. "I can't -- I can't be dead, damnit. I still have so much of my life to live!"

Mar Rhigan crossed one arm over her torso, holding the other as she rested her chin in her hand. The lantern floated beside her. "Strange... You are dead, little warrior, make no mistake. But..." She trailed off, lifting her head to look at something past Charley's shoulder. "Ah. Perhaps I am wrong, in that at least." She smiled again, and the lantern's glow grew brighter. Then brighter, and brighter still, until it was blinding.

Charley covered his eyes, turning away, as the world turned white.

"...Son? Charley?" Arms hooked beneath Charley's back and knees, lifting him away from the stone. "Ch'al, son, please, please wake up..."

Charley dragged his eyes open, peering up at his father's face. "...Dad?" The word rasped against his throat, and he winced in pain.

Fel Andar sighed, relieved, and pressed his forehead to his son's. "Shh, it's okay. Let me get you aboard the ship, I'll get you fixed up."

[evesaintyves]

WIP Word Search Game

thanks for the tag @whinlatter and also @ashesandhackles some time ago ❤️

i searched my whole WIP collection/abandoned project graveyard for these and... 😭. i have a lot of unfinished work. these are all unpublished chapters and one-shots-in-progress.

words: close | sharp | time | blood | touch

🔸️close - [The Last Mission, WIP chapter]

Just muddle through another few hours, yeah? Tonks slid her fingers over the inside of his wrist, right below the tip of his wand where he'd hidden it in his shirtsleeve. Then, as soon as we can, we'll... She jerked her head to indicate the woods. How cruel and close that apparition boundary seemed at this moment, guarded in the gnarled arms of the trees. And how the wood must abhor this antiseptic lawn, this parochial garden, and all these unnatural animals in their wingtip shoes and party frocks. How it must champ and growl to reclaim it all.

🔸️sharp - [perimeter walks, WIP chapter]

The grass came up to their shins. Awkward dandelion, a head taller than everything else, had gone to seed in seraphim puffs which broke against Ginny's thighs when she waded to the front door through the thicket. Spindrifts of fluff on the warm wind. The tipsy smell of the roof rotting through. "I've heard about this place, but..." Harry stopped before the door, which was ajar, and stood looking at the dark crack of it like he didn't want to go inside. Ginny laid her hand on his back, between his knife-sharp shoulderblades, still so bony even after all the funeral food, even after all her mum's rich, desperately-compensatory dinners. When she touched him he finished in a rushed mutter: "...I've never seen it before."

🔸️time - [untitled Parvati Patil one-shot WIP]

This time last year was the Weird Sisters singing believe that magic works, the strange biting pinesap scent of amortentia, Lavender's tiresome sighs, and Padma running up to grab Parvati's hand, just like when they were little, whispering just please be careful. If it can happen to Katie... Catastrophising was never Padma's style - that, she'd say, was Parvati's thing - and seeing her unflappable sister so scared had covered her in crawling unease, like the wavy feeling that stays on her skin when she swims in the lake too long. She's come to understand that that feeling was a message, that discomfort is a language that is older than words, is the truth of the body struggling to speak itself. These days her body rings all the time with these messages: the curdling in her gut when the man Carrow watches her and Lavender walk the aisle to their seats. The gallop in her chest when the morning owls come swooping, carrying fresh horror in their taloned feet, leaving the names of the disappeared to whisper in chains down the breakfast tables. The constant readiness like a low vibration in her bones: you are not safe here - do not sleep too deeply - prepare yourself to fight -

🔸️blood [All the Bricks in the Wall, WIP chapter]

Remus didn't sleep well in her bed. She kicked and mumbled and snatched the duvet away, and more to the point he never felt quite like he belonged there: he'd shift awake and the thrashing movement of her rockband posters in the dark would startle him, and then he'd lie there staring at the greenish glow of the stars she'd charmed onto her ceiling, and then the feeling of being an old man in a young girl's bedroom would creep up and make him want to take off his own skin. He'd think about going home to his bed, he'd even scheme how he might make her forgive him for it (a note on the pillow? come back in the morning with coffee and pain au chocolat?) but she wasn't the forgiving sort, and the thought of her cross with him  and all the things she might say (sneaking out in the night - had your fun - had your fill of me, have you?) was so much worse than not sleeping. It cost him in the end: one morning he dozed off on the tube and was forty minutes late for his opening shift at the café, then the next day, exhausted again, he cut himself so badly slicing apples on the mandoline that a jet of his blood shot across a sheet of kouign-amanns cooling and he had to chuck the lot of them. The owner, who never showed face in the mornings but was there that day of course, fumed silently for hours before calling him into the binder-crammed back office and sacking him. You're always giving away your shifts, you come in distracted, not ready for work—when you get yourself cleaned up, give us a ring and we might have something part-time for you. Remus was halfway home when it sunk in what he was being accused of, and he stopped dead and stood there for a moment in the babble of Upper Street, thinking he might be sick on the pavement.

next one is slightly spicy so i'm putting it under a cut. but first lemme tag @lunapwrites, @welsh-green, @ala-baguette, @artemisia-black, @alohaemora and anybody else who wants to do it!

your words: sick | ghost | whisper | sweet | face

🔸️touch - [untitled sort-of WIP - actually a finished one-shot that i didn't like enough to post and set aside to try to rework into something better (someday 🌠)]

Tonks threw her head back and moaned, her eyes half-shut and unfocused on the ceiling, one hand fisted in the shaggy hair at the back of Remus's neck. She was on his lap as he slouched on her sofa, their lo mein cooling abandoned on her coffee table. He'd been brave enough to slide a hand under her shirt and run his thumb over the mesh of her bra tonight. She'd learned by now to tilt her head this way when he touched her: to show him that she liked it, but also to give him privacy. He'd get flustered if he caught her looking, though she quite itched to see his face at moments like this. The flush of it, the swollen lips, the dazed heaviness of his eyelids. With her face upturned like this she could change herself discreetly, too, and this time she decided to go with one of her old standards: she made her lips a little darker and plumper, so they'd be irresistable when she brought her face close to kiss him, and morphed her nipples bigger and firmer under his roaming thumbs.