#I apologize for this

[jollymalt]

some miku shitposts

[secretivemessenger]

okay im way too far into brainrotting about an amputee bf that i wrote a whole thirst thing about it.

☆ cw: top m!reader , cock-warming , calling a hole 'cunt' like once , belly bulge

★ not proof-read

☆ dark nsfw content ahead

Imagine being with someone whose both legs are amputated. He's completely dependent on you as you feed him, carry him around, fuck him like a worthless slut.

Imagine him whining and thrashing around as you have him cockwarm you while you tap around on your phone. Manhandling him into your lap, easily slipping his shorts off to gain easy access since he doesn't wear any underwear, shove him down firmly on your cock and feel him tightly clench around you. His little, tiny cock would squirt pre all over his stomach as he whines and whimpers while you focus solely on your phone. Whenever he would move, you would tightly hold his waist and give a harsh smack to his ass, making him gasp and stay still as you whisper sweet words to him about how good he's doing for you.

Imagine doing your little office work to see him crawling over to you under the table, he would use his hands to help him up, but he still wouldn't be able to reach. Won't you help the poor man up? You would if it wasn't so fun watching him struggle and cry out for you to help him. Whoops, and your hard just from seeing his tears and his miserable state. You would slip down your pants and boxers all together and grab him harshly by the hair, pulling his whole body up till his mouth is just on your tip as you tell him, "Get to work; I'll help ya stay up."

Imagine his lips sloppily wrapping around the head of your cock as you hold up his body. Swirling his tongue around the tip, slurping on it like it was the most delicious dessert he ever tasted, shoving his tongue inside the foreskin and pushing it back to finally reveal the head. Using his hand to fondle your balls while he focuses solely on your head. Yes, adorable and all, but it's not enough for you. Hold his head in place and thrust into it like a sex toy, no matter how hard he cries and begs for you to slow down while your cock fucks his mouth. His small cock leaking pre would be your indicator that he's loving it. Not like you need one; you know he loves it when you fuck his throat like a cheap whore.

Imagine being unable to pay any attention to him as you're very tired; he would beg and try to seduce you into fucking him, but you can't. So you lay down and drop down your pants and tell him to do it himself. You would watch closely as he strokes and plays with your cock to get you hard and into shape, then he would use his hands to support himself onto your cock; he doesn't even have any need to prepare himself as your yesterday activities were enough to have his hole ready to take you at any time. But he still needs a bit of adjustments as he tries to slowly lower himself on your cock using his only method of support, which is his hands, although he's not very strong when you're not helping him, so you would grunt when the power in his hands fails him, making him drop balls deep on your cock. A loud scream could be heard as you felt a warm liquid on your stomach, realizing he came just by being impaled on your cock. God, you wanted to watch him struggle on your cock more, but how could you just lay there while he looked this miserable?

Imagine losing all morale at that scene, not like you had any. Just grab a hold of his waist with your hands and bounce him up and down your cock, thrusting up at the same time fucking him fast and deep. Not long, and he's cumming all over himself again. It never fails to amaze you how tight he can get, like his only purpose is to be a milking toy for your cock, a reusable 'cunt' for you to dump all your fluids into. How much time has passed? You haven't a clue, all you know is that you came so many times deep inside of him. You manhandled him into many positions, hugging his waist and fucking into him like he was a sex doll, pressing him against the mattress, fucking him hard enough that he almost fell off the egde bed, so deep inside of him his stomach bulged with your cock. Press on it and watch him cum all-over himself once again. After you were finally satisfied, you would just leave him panting and crying on the bed with a dildo almost as big as your own cock lodged inside his hole, preventing even a single drop of your cum to slip out as you went to shower, leaving him to lay in the dirty bed surrounded by his own filth.

oh man i may be going insane i need more of this, idk what happened to me but i felt the sudden urge to write this forgive me.

[cornetespoir]

Same picture

Based on this

[misc-obeyme]

Be good and wait for me.

Well. I said I'd write the Barb smut, so here it is. This is based entirely off this one line of his that he says when you put his shower still as your home screen. The sex does not happen in the shower because shower sex scares me lol.

Anyway, this came out way longer than I anticipated. I don't know if it's any good, but I always feel that way, so. I do feel that I am entering another smut phase... so be prepared for that, I guess?

GN!MC x Barbatos

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: top!MC, bottom!Barb, fingering (Barb receiving), penetration (Barb receiving), use of the word cock for reader (so you can replace with strap if you feel so inclined), tailfucking (reader receiving), established relationship

When your room at the House of Lamentation was unceremoniously flooded by an unexpectedly upset demon (his name has been redacted for safety reasons), you found yourself accepting an offer from Barbatos to stay at the Demon Lord’s Castle while the repairs were completed.

It wasn't unusual for him to extend such an invitation, but you were flattered all the same. Being in a relationship with the Demon Prince's butler meant that you didn't get to spend every moment with him. But living in the castle, even temporarily, would afford you more opportunities.

You settled in right away, falling into an easy routine with him. Every evening, when he was done working for the day, Barbatos would change into more casual clothes and then make tea. You would arrive at his room at the same time every day to sit and talk with him.

It was one such quiet evening when you made your way to his bedroom. You opened the door without knocking as you always did, knowing that he would already be waiting for you with a freshly brewed pot of tea.

You found his room empty, but you could hear a sound from the bathroom. The door was ajar, light spilling out into the bedroom area. You couldn’t help your curiosity, wondering what he could be doing at this time when you were certain you knew his routine perfectly.

You pushed the door open a little more and the sound you were hearing resolved in your mind. It was running water and Barbatos was in the shower.

You could see him quite clearly - standing there with the shower head in his hand and the water running down his body. The lights were bright, making it easy for you to see everything. Behind him, the full moon added its silver light through the window.

He smiled upon seeing you, completely unbothered by your presence.

And really, you shouldn’t have been startled either - it wasn’t like this was the first time you’d seen him naked. But there was something about the way the light played across his skin, the way the droplets of water traced along the edges of his body, the way his hair curled slightly in the damp air…

“I will be with you in a moment, MC,” he said. “Be good and wait for me.”

He might as well have given you the human equivalent of lunatic pudding. His words, his calm smooth voice, the soft smile on his face - desire flooded through you.

All you could do was nod and turn away, making your way to his bed where you sat down on the edge and took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself. You weren’t here to get frisky - it was time for tea. Clearly Barbatos had lingered in the shower longer than he had intended, that was all. There was no way he had done it on purpose… right?

Be good and wait for me. You couldn't suppress your shiver.

Moments later, Barbatos came out of the bathroom and you felt another spike of need shoot through you. He had only a towel around his waist, tiny drops of water still falling from the ends of his hair.

He saw you sitting on his bed, your back straight, your hands in your lap, your eyes wide. He smiled at you and your heart began to race.

It was more than just seeing so much of his skin exposed. It was how he had begun to let you see these parts of himself - dressed casually and relaxing, first thing in the morning before he had even fully woken, the moments just after getting out of the shower - times when he had let his guard down with you.

And while you still had goosebumps from hearing him say those words to you, the love you could see in his expression was doing something else to you entirely. Your hands were gripped tightly together in an attempt to prevent yourself from squirming.

Barbatos approached you, standing before you and placing his fingertips on your cheek.

“Forgive me for making you wait,” he said.

You frowned up at him. “Why do I get the feeling you did it on purpose? It’s not like you to be off your routine.”

Barbatos laughed softly and let his fingers travel down your jaw to trace your lips. “You know me too well, it seems,” he said. “I’m afraid you’ve seen right through me. Will you continue to be good for me, MC?”

And that was when you knew that if you didn’t take charge, you’d end up getting teased for hours before finally losing your mind. You were too on edge for that, so you stood up abruptly.

Barbatos seemed to anticipate this and he easily moved around you to take your spot on the bed, smiling up at you with a look of amusement.

You huffed and folded your arms. “You’re such a tease,” you said.

Barbatos tilted his head just a little, the damp ends of the longer piece of his hair leaving little trails on his now mostly dry skin. “Am I?”

“Don’t think you can get away with that innocent act,” you said, moving yourself to stand between his knees. “I did what you asked and waited, but I’m not sure I want to continue being good if it means you’re going to tease me all night.”

Barbatos chuckled as his arms wrapped around you, his hands moving up beneath your shirt as he leaned his face into your stomach. “I see,” he said. “Then what is it you would like to do?”

You put your thumb on his chin and lifted his face. “I want you to be good for me.”

You didn’t wait for a response from him, instead leaning down to kiss him. It was bright and heavy at the same time, his lips soft and his tongue welcoming. You pressed your body against him and his knees tightened on either side of you. His hands were moving up and down your back almost languidly.

You could feel the stiffness of his erection beneath the flimsy towel that was still tucked around his waist. You deliberately pressed your leg into it and he moaned into your mouth. The hands on your back began to tug at your shirt.

You pulled back and looked down at him, his mouth open, lips swollen, cheeks flushed, eyes out of focus.

“You’re being rather impatient, aren’t you?” you said, your voice a little breathless.

Barbatos nuzzled his face against you. “You’re the only one who could possibly make me impatient, MC. You know this.”

You ran your fingers through his hair. “I know,” you said and you did. In every moment, Barbatos was calm and composed and he could probably wait for eternity if he had to. But when it came to you, he allowed himself to be a little more needy, a little bit clingy. It was everything to you.

And you didn’t really feel the need to make him wait. But you did want to hear him say it.

“Tell me what you want and I’ll do it,” you said.

Barbatos looked up at you, his eyes sparking with a green fire unlike anything you’d seen from him so far. It was accompanied by a deep blush that spread across his face. There was something he wanted, but he seemed reluctant to say it out loud.

You waited, running your fingers across his cheeks and down the nape of his neck. His eyes fluttered closed as he enjoyed your touch.

Barbatos sighed against your skin. “I want to feel you inside me,” he said.

You nearly reeled with the impact these words had on you. The way his voice had sunk to nearly a whisper, half muffled as his mouth was still pressed against you, the blush that deepened and spread. It was unlike him to be so shy, normally he exuded confidence.

It was almost too much, but the fire in your belly was enough to fuel you. There was no way you wouldn’t give him exactly what he wanted.

You cupped his cheek, forced him to look up at you. “In that case, it’s your turn to be good and wait.”

Barbatos kept his eyes on you as you moved away from him. The expression on his face was just as it had been before - open and needy - but he sat still and waited as you had requested.

You took your time removing your own clothing piece by piece. You glanced at him occasionally, watching the way his eyes roamed across your skin. But he didn’t move, in fact, he barely blinked.

You made him wait longer as you folded each piece of clothing, creating a little pile on his bedside table. You let him continue waiting as you opened the drawer of the table to find the things you would need to fulfill his request.

When you finally returned to him, you put your hand on his cheek again. “See? You can be patient when it comes to me, too.”

Barbatos chuckled. “Only at your request.”

You pushed on his shoulders until he was lying back on the bed. You hooked your fingers into the towel and pulled it off of him with a flick of your wrist. His cock looked so pretty and swollen, but you held back from touching it.

Instead you slathered your fingers with lubricant, leaning down over him, and gently prodding at his entrance. To your satisfaction, Barbatos relaxed, allowing you to slip a finger in easily. He responded with a tiny gasp, barely audible, and you could tell he was trying to keep his usual composure.

You didn’t give him the space to regain his neutral expression. You moved your finger slow and hard, watching as he bit his lip. When you put in the second finger, he shivered. At the third, he reached up to grip your arms. You slowed down, making sure to stretch him out sufficiently, focused for a moment on your task.

“MC,” Barbatos moaned out your name.

“Hmm?” You pressed kisses to his thighs which were shuddering now.

“Please,” he said.

You loved to hear him beg, but you couldn’t hold back anymore. You pulled your fingers out of him and carefully replaced them with your cock. You loved the way Barbatos whined as you did so.

You leaned over him, resting your forearms on either side of him. You kissed him, slowly, gently, letting him adjust to having you inside of him.

Then you began to move, taking your time with him. You moved out at a crawling pace only to thrust back in much faster. The moan this produced filled you with fire.

You increased your speed, breathing heavily as Barbatos locked his legs around your waist, his fingers digging into your arms.

You noticed the second he shifted into demon form. The horns twitched and shuddered with every moan. The tips of his tail caressed your back, leaving slight trails of dampness as they went.

And then it was your turn to gasp as something cold slipped inside you.

“Ah,” you said, your hips stuttering but not stopping. “Barbatos-!”

Barbatos clutched at your back, his nails digging in. “F-forgive… me…”

He could barely talk, but the fact that he was trying to apologize for putting his tail in you was the most ridiculous thing you’d ever heard.

You laughed. You couldn’t help it. You leaned your head on his chest, pressing your face into his skin. You kissed his chest and said, “Don’t you… dare apologize…”

You were breathless, too, and it was getting worse as Barbatos put both tips of his tail into you. You cried out at the pleasure that ran through you as he began to thrust it in and out with the same rhythm that your hips were somehow still maintaining.

He was squirming beneath you now, his hands raking their way down your back over and over like he needed to hold onto something. You pushed up to look down at him, the way his eyes seemed to be completely out of focus until they locked on yours. And then it was all fire and need and want and -

“Please, please,” he mumbled, the words clearly falling from his lips unbidden. “MC, please-“

You reached between your bodies to stroke his cock. “Be good and come for me,” you said.

Barbatos’s normally subdued voice rang out so prettily when he came in your hand that you found yourself coming, too. Everything quickly became a sticky mess, but neither of you cared.

Barbatos kept his eyes locked on yours as he panted, desperately trying to catch his breath as he came down from his high. You maintained the eye contact as you felt yourself coming down, too. And suddenly you felt very heavy.

“You might as well take another shower at this point,” you said. You were still inside of him and his tail, though still, remained firmly inside of you.

Barbatos ran his fingers down your chest, letting himself feel your skin. “Perhaps you would like to join me?”

You kissed him sweetly, a gentle meeting of lips, lingering for a moment to cherish the taste of him.

Barbatos didn’t wait for your answer to his question. Instead he simply wrapped his arms around you and stood up, effectively carrying you to the bathroom. You laughed into his shoulder the whole way.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[im-a-heartstomper]

what have i done.

[dead-dove-moment]

announcing the hot new umineko spin-off light novel, tentatively titled:

My Self-Insert OC Is Self-Aware And Has A Masochistic Crush On Me?!

[ollyvoile]

As Obito Uchiha awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a monstrous insect.

[smoshidiot]

anthony padilla being submissive and breedable - x

[flowersandskeletons526]

"Don't Let Anything Happen To Her" - Warriors Concept Album Fanfic (Part 1/2)

I lied, this did not end up being a one shot, it got way longer than I expected. Mercy goes out with Rembrandt on a tagging mission.

I'm putting heavy trigger warnings on this for violence, severe injury, and near death experience. No one dies, but it's still a rough one. Just be warned

---------

Mercy stood in her and Swan’s bedroom, eavesdropping through a crack in the door. Swan and Ajax were in the living room having a shouting match with Cleon. Well, Ajax was yelling. Cleon and Swan managed to keep their voices calm, but Mercy heard Swan’s tone becoming more and more clipped as the conversation progressed. She would have liked to be part of the discussion - it was about her, after all - but Swan insisted she stay out of it for the moment.

“You can’t send Rembrandt out with just Mercy!” Ajax snapped.

“I can and I am,” said Cleon. “Mercy needs to learn the territory. A short tagging mission is good for that.”

“If she needs to learn the territory, have Swan take her on a fucking walk! Give her a map! Don’t send my girlfriend out with her alone!”

“Cleon, permission to speak freely?” asked Swan. 

“Speak.”

“This is stupid. Mercy’s a decent fighter and yeah, she held her own against the Furies, but she had all of us behind her then. Plus a baseball bat.”

“You want me to give her another bat?”

“That wasn’t the point. She’s not experienced enough yet and Rembrandt’s not the world’s greatest fighter if shit goes down. Sorry, Rem.”

“You guys can stop talking about me like I’m not here,” Rembrandt said grumpily. Mercy hadn’t even remembered she was in the room. The girl was so quiet. “For what it’s worth, I trust Mercy. She’s a quick thinker and-”

“And fucking impulsive,” Ajax interrupted.

“That’s rich coming from you,” Swan retorted.

“Hey, fuck you!”

“Guys!” Rembrandt snapped. “I’m not even going outside our borders. The city painted over my old tags, I’m just redoing them. Two buildings. I could do this myself if we didn’t still have to follow the buddy system.”

“It’s not a buddy system,” Cleon protested. 

“It so is. Mercy and I can do this. We’ll be fine.”

“Rembrandt,” Swan began.

“You promised you would stop treating me like a kid!” There was a little twinge of hurt ringing in her words. “Are you three gonna trust me or not?”

No one spoke for a moment. Damn, Mercy thought. The girl had a big voice when she wanted. She heard the patter of someone pacing on the hardwood floor, probably Ajax if she had to guess. Swan sighed.

“We do trust you,” she said.

“Thanks,” Rembrandt deadpanned. “Ajax?”

Ajax didn’t respond. Mercy could almost imagine her expression, fists clenched and arms folded over her chest, face scrunched up in a smile. She imagined the Warriors staring at her expectantly waiting for her to either relent or keep fighting Cleon’s decision. Mercy couldn’t blame her; she didn’t like Swan going anywhere without her, it made her nervous, and Swan was tied with Ajax for the best fighter in the gang. But being one of the best fighters and not allowed to go with the one who wasn’t supposed to fight at all? Mercy understood why Ajax was on the brink of going full nuclear. 

“Fine,” Ajax finally ground out. “You’re sure it’s nowhere near the borders?”

“I defined the borders,” Rembrandt pointed out. “It’s nowhere close.”

“Alright.”

“You guys are good to go home,” said Cleon. “Meet up with Mercy here tomorrow night.”

Mercy heard the front door open and close. Footsteps approached the bedroom. She jumped on the bed, grabbing one of Swan’s books and opening it to a random page, trying to seem casual as Swan entered. The war chief smirked and shut the door behind her.

“I know you were listening,” she said.

“Listening to what?” Mercy said, playing dumb.”

“Mercy.”

“Hm?”

“The book is upside down.”

Shit. She was caught. She groaned and put the book away. “Okay, yeah, I was listening.”

Swan chuckled and sat on the bed beside her. “So I don’t have to tell you how important this is.”

“I know, Swan. First time chaperoning a tagging trip, I know it’s a big deal.”

“Don’t use the word chaperoning. Rembrandt will throw a can at you if she hears it.” She leaned over and took Mercy’s hand. “You have two rules for this. One, get home alive, and two, keep Rembrandt out of trouble as best as you can without breaking rule one.”

“I know-”

“Want to hear a story?”

“Not really but I don’t think I have a choice.”

“A little while after Ajax and Rembrandt officially got together, I had to go on a tagging mission with her alone. There was a fight. Rembrandt didn’t even actually get hit, just got knocked into a wall, but she came home with a nasty scrape and a concussion. Ajax headbutted me in the face so hard she broke my nose. Never raised her hands, didn’t turn it into a fight, she only did it to make sure I knew that I screwed up. She and I are evenly matched on the regular but if Rembrandt’s safety is on the line, Rembrandt is the only one who can talk her down.”

“Swan.” Mercy held Swan’s hand in both of hers. “I get it. I can handle this. Trust me.”

“I do.”

The next night, Mercy waited on the stoop for Ajax and Rembrandt to arrive. They came around the corner hand in hand, Rembrandt saying something indistinct to Ajax, who looked like she wanted to be absolutely anywhere else. They met at the bottom of the steps. Rembrandt had her backpack full of spray paint on and her mask around her neck. Ajax let go of Rembrandt and shoved her hands in her pockets as she stared Mercy down. 

“You guys gonna be alright?” she asked curtly.

“Yeah, babe, we’ll be fine,” Rembrandt said, sounding like they’d already had this conversation ten times on the walk over from their apartment.

“You’re sure you don’t want me to come with you?”

“I’m sure.” Rembrandt stood on her tiptoes to kiss Ajax’s cheek. “Mercy, let’s go.”

Mercy went to follow the tagger. When Rembrandt’s back was turned, Ajax snatched Mercy’s arm and stopped her in her tracks. 

“Don’t let anything happen to her,” Ajax hissed before Mercy could speak, “or I’m gonna kick Swan’s ass and then come after you.” She reached into her jacket and shoved something into Mercy’s hands. When Mercy looked, she saw a large bowie knife in a beat up leather sheath. “Don’t let her see that. She hates it when I bring weapons.”

Ajax let go and turned to go up to the apartment. Hiding the knife in the back of her waistband, Mercy hurried after Rembrandt. 

They didn’t talk as they strolled through the dark streets. Rembrandt hummed to herself, rattling a spray paint can to make a beat. Mercy thought it was cute. She looked around. Rembrandt’s tags were everywhere if you looked for them: a flash of red at the back of an alley, a streak of paint along the edge of a roof, markers in every nook and cranny to claim Coney Island for the Warriors. She glanced down at Rembrandt. The tagger was a solid five inches shorter than her but she couldn’t imagine trying to climb to the places Rembrandt could apparently go with ease.

“Hey,” she said, “how do you get up there?”

Rembrandt raised an eyebrow, pausing her beat. “What do you mean?”

She pointed to a tag on the top floor of a building that seemingly would be impossible to reach unless you rappelled down from the roof. “Like that one.”

“Oh, easy. Go up the fire escape, hop the railing, climb along the window ledge to reach it.”

“Easy?”

“For me.”

“Doesn’t it scare you? What if you fall?”

“Pfft. I tagged the face of the Wonder Wheel for my initiation,” Rembrandt said with pride. “Climbing a building don’t scare me. I’ve been doing it so long, it’s like walking.” She smiled softly. “I’ve got a better vertical jump now but when I started, Ajax used to have to pick me up to help me reach the fire escape. She watched me jump down from one and twist my ankle and wouldn’t let me do that after.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Depends on what it is.”

“Why Ajax?” She didn’t intend for it to sound like that. Rembrandt’s smile faded, her eyes narrowing as she turned to look Mercy square in the face. “Y’know, I mean, she’s so-”

“Watch ya mouth.”

“I don’t mean anything bad by it!” Mercy backpedaled. “It’s just, you guys are so… different.”

Rembrandt looked away and kept walking. “We are different,” she said. “And I’m glad for that. I…” She took a deep breath, contemplating how much she should share. “Ajax found me in a really, really bad place, and I’m not sure I would’ve gotten out of there alive if we hadn’t met on the boardwalk that first night. I know she’s loud and she’s quick to fight but it’s because she’s protective over all of us. Yeah, she’s worried about me being out here right now but she’s worried about something bad happening to you, too. She does like you, you know.”

Mercy couldn’t help the smile that lit up her face. “She does?”

“You two are weirdly similar. It honestly throws me for a loop sometimes. Wait, stop, this is the building I have to tag.” 

“Where?”

“Third floor.” Rembrandt put her mask on. “Just wait down here and make sure there’s no trouble while I’m up there.” 

“What if there is trouble?”

“Run.”

Mercy cringed a little and took her place by the ladder to the fire escape. She tried to stand like Swan, which felt weird, and then tried to stand like Ajax, which felt weirder, so she crossed her arms and shifted her weight between her feet waiting for Rembrandt to come down. It only took a minute before she heard footsteps clanging down the fire escape and Rembrandt dropped to the sidewalk beside her. Without a word, she waved her on towards the next target.

She made quick work of that one, too. Mercy watched her climb over the railing and suspend herself in mid air to reach around a corner. It was more than a little impressive, Mercy had to admit. She understood why Ajax would have taken so much notice in the beginning. As Rembrandt came down, she put her mask and cans into her backpack and smiled up at Mercy.

“All good,” she said. “Congrats. Your first tagging trip was a success.”

“But I didn’t do anything,” Mercy said in confusion.

“You don’t have to do anything. You’re just supposed to watch my back. If I’m up there and something happens while I’m on my own, there are only so many roofs I can jump across before I’m stuck.”

“Have you had to jump across roofs before?”

“Once or twice. But once I’m out of space, it’s a bad place to be. Let’s get back home.”

Rembrandt resumed her spray can beat as they walked back towards the apartment. Mercy nodded along, putting a little bounce in her step as she walked. She couldn’t help but smile. Her first tagging mission was a success! Rembrandt said so herself! Maybe now Swan would trust her to fend for herself a little more. Maybe she could get a little more approval and a little less standoffishness from Ajax. Cleon would know she could for sure depend on her. She was finally on her way to realizing her place in the gang.

Coarse laughter cut through the night. The Warriors stopped dead in their tracks and slowly turned around. Behind them on the corner, a group of men approached them, cackling and pushing each other around. They wore garish purple jackets with yellow crowns emblazoned across the chest and “S.I.” patches on the shoulders. Their eyes were set squarely on Mercy and Rembrandt.

Rembrandt made a tense noise in the back of her throat. “It's a Staten Island clan,” she mumbled.

“Are they trouble?” Mercy asked.

“Everyone’s trouble when they’ve got something to prove.”

“Hey, ladies!” one of the men in front jeered. “What are a couple of pretty girls like you doing out so late?”

Swan’s rules echoed in Mercy’s ears as she put herself between Rembrandt and the gang. “You shouldn’t be wearing your colors in Warrior territory,” she snapped, head held high. “Or anywhere in Brooklyn. Take them off and get back on your boat home.”

“Oh, yeah? Why don’t you come over here and make us?”

Rembrandt grabbed Mercy by the hand and bolted.

“Get ’em!”

Mercy could barely keep up with her. Rembrandt ran without looking back, without thought, moving solely on autopilot as she led Mercy over fences and through twisting alleys. She glanced over her shoulder once to make sure Mercy was still behind her and that was it. They were almost home. They were so fucking close to home. They turned past an old warehouse and Mercy knew it was a straight shot from there. They just had to keep running.

A car skidded around the corner and screeched to a stop, cutting them off. Another pulled up behind them as the gang members on their feet caught up. They were stuck. More gang members piled out of the cars. The Warriors stood back to back, fists raised, ready to fight if they had to, but they were no Swan. They were no Ajax. Mercy felt Rembrandt trembling pressed against her as the gang members closed in around them. She felt the handle of Ajax’s knife digging into her back. She didn’t know what to do. She looked around, searching for a way to escape, unable to even hear her own thoughts over the taunts and laughter from their attackers. 

On the side of the warehouse, there was a fire escape, the kind where the steps went all the way down to the street. There was a break in the tightening circle of people around them. 

“Aw, look at that,” one of the men snickered. “The baby’s scared!”

Get home alive.

Don’t let anything happen to Rembrandt.

Mercy spun and shoved Rembrandt up the fire escape. One of the gang members grabbed her leg, and she fell forward onto the metal steps but Rembrandt kept going and that was what mattered. As she tried to kick the man down the stairs, she watched Rembrandt hit the second floor landing.

She watched a gang member come down from the top and grab Rembrandt by the collar. How the fuck had he gotten past them?

The man lifted Rembrandt off her feet, trapping her against the railing. She clung to his arms and tried to scratch and fight and break free but it was no use. He sneered at her. 

“I didn’t think this would be so easy,” he growled. “Thought you’d put up a better fight.”

“Wait, wait, stop, put me down!” Rembrandt shouted.

“We got down through Brooklyn no problem. Killing a few Warriors should get Coney Island for us, huh? Easier to get through the rest of the city without having to come over on that fucking boat.”

Mercy finally kicked free and charged up the stairs. “Get away from her!”

“Stop, stop, stop!”

“That peace meeting was a fucking joke.”

“No-!”

He threw Rembrandt over the edge. 

Mercy’s knife was in her hand. She leapt up the final steps. With a wild, inhuman howl, she plunged the knife into the man’s back. 

It stuck in the meat of his shoulder. It got him to the floor but it didn’t kill him. Pity. Mercy sent him tumbling down the stairs. She looked over the edge to where she was sure Rembrandt would be lying dead on the concrete…

But she wasn’t.

Rembrandt had landed on a big pile of trash bags on the curb. It was better than the sidewalk and Mercy could see her gasping for air, eyes open, but she still hit hard and she wasn’t moving and the remaining gang members were closing in on her. Mercy flew down the stairs to where the man she stabbed was lying in a crumpled heap. Grabbing him by his hair, she yanked his head up.

“Hey!” She put the knife to his neck as his buddies froze. “One more step and I will cut his fucking throat!”

Most of them stayed put. A few backed away, back towards the cars waiting for them. Mercy pressed the knife into his skin until beads of blood darkened the edge of the blade. That got them moving. All but two got back in the cars. She dropped the man and maintained the space between them as they grabbed him under his arms and dragged him into the car. With a cloud of smoke from the squealing tires, they sped off into the night.

Mercy dropped the knife and flew to Rembrandt. She got her arms under her, pulling her out of the trash heap, which probably wasn’t the safest idea without checking to see if she’d injured her neck but Mercy was moving on adrenaline. She sat Rembrandt against the wall and snapped her fingers in front of her face, trying to get her attention.

It was bad. Rembrandt was bleeding from a huge gash on her head. She was pale and her eyes wouldn’t focus. Mercy spotted a slice through her shirt on her side surrounded by a rapidly expanding red stain. Her arm hung limp, and Mercy was a thousand percent sure that a shoulder was not supposed to be in that position.

There was so much blood.

“Rembrandt, Rembrandt, hey, look at me,” she begged. “Are you okay? Can you hear me?”

Rembrandt barely had the strength to shake her head. “C-Cleon,” she gasped. “I need Cleon.”

“Okay. Okay, we’ll get you to Cleon. Come on.” 

Mercy slung Rembrandt’s arm over her shoulders and helped her to her feet, her heart twisting as Rembrandt tried to muffle a cry of pain. She struggled to walk, but with Mercy’s help, they began making their way towards the Warriors’ apartment. The whole time, Mercy kept talking:

“You’re gonna be fine. You’re okay. You’re gonna be totally fine, I promise. We’re almost home, Rem. You’re doing great. We’re so close.”

They crossed the street onto their block. Rembrandt tripped over her feet. Mercy couldn’t hold her up and sank to the ground with her, cradling her in her arms as her eyes closed and her head fell back. Mercy didn’t know what else to do, so she screamed.

“Cleon! Ajax! Help! Somebody, somebody help!”

--------

Part two is going to be out tomorrow, I just needed to split it and put the first part out today because it was getting way to long to be one part. Out on Ao3 under the same title, same username as Tumblr

[lizluzz]

Mostly I try to pretend that I'm normal about this man, but some days it's harder

From Jason Momoa's ig

[fishnotfoundie]

dream if he really slayed

[rubber-garage]

I enjoy drawing them very much

[justneurodivergentthings]

Sorry my gorilla grip coochie isn't very supersoaker rn, I'm on Adderall 😕

[vinecovered-mech]

Monty telling Charley he has full assed ideas:

[purpleunicycle]

um i’m sorry wtf did i just find in my text history

[noahhasbeensummoned]

Hey, Noah. What was your homeworld like?

<Noah's multiple eyes widen a bit at the question. First words said to him in a long while and it's this, huh?>

"..Mm.. Well, It was.. strict, to say the least. What's that one word you humans use? Gray scale, right? It was most definitely that. No color, no blooming trees, no flowers, anything interesting. The only visible color on that planet actually was red, such as the banners they hung around almost every town. Or- at least all the towns I was allowed to visit. I had a very.. limited range of distance I was allowed go from my house without punishment. Furthest place I could go was the.."

<He pauses, hand balling into a tense fist and going completely silent. He shuts his eyes tightly, taking a deep breath and shakes his head a little before continuing and shifting the topic just a bit.>

"..Their views were very grayscale too. Black and white, was all it was. If you were anything out of the norm, you were most likely gotten rid of, one way or another.. And, with my multitude of birth defects, such as these extra horns and extra eyes, I had the short end of the stick as soon as I came into exsistance. Sometimes I do wish.. they'd just tried to get rid of me the normal way instead of making me..

..

I no longer wish to speak on this subject. Sincerest apologies, Anon."