#and i got an advance copy of the bones beneath my skin and it was so good

[koshercosplay]

I met TJ Klune at a convention recently and I need everyone to know that I asked him what he thought about this and he fully agrees with me

while I love a good fancast of the characters in the house in the cerulean sea as much as the next guy, I worry about live action adaptations being able to truly capture the warm sense of magic, love, found family, and whimsy of the book.

which is why the only people I would trust with an adaptation of the house in the cerulean sea is studio ghibli

no I will not be taking criticism at this time since I am 100% correct

[ikroah]

Whiskey river, take my mind, don't let her memory torture me. Whiskey river, don't run dry, you're all I got, take care of me. —“Whiskey River,” Shotgun Willie (1973)

It Keeps Right On a-Hurtin’ #15 - Vegas Outskirts

Collaborative Issue! Guest Colorist: @malpaislegate​ / @socksual-innuendos​

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Notes / Original Pencils / Transcript:

Notes:

MAN that’s gotta hurt!! Volume 2 kicks off with a bang, literally if you count the gunshot and honorifically if you count Socks’ knockout color job on this issue. Look at those lovingly rendered bullet wounds!! Muah!!!

It’s been a relief having a month off from the comic as I handled a bunch of other things but there’s a lot to look forward to in Volume 2, as you can probably tell from that very forboding fist clench at the end there. Will Agnes and Cass get the revenge they’re looking for? Can they make it big in Vegas? Will it keep right on a-hurtin’? Find out next ish as Cass leads Agnes to meet the first of their new “friends.”

Original Pencils:

The pencils for this issue are like an autopsy report of all the things that can go wrong with your art if you don’t plan ahead and pay attention. Listen, friend, to my tale of woe, and learn from my mistakes so they don’t become yours!

First, you can see a lot of places where there’s floating objects, empty backgrounds, and incomplete heads. Part of this is because I always intended to just copy and paste repeated elements across each panel instead of drawing them multiple times, but other times I was forced to just because of my lack of planning. The top three panels on page two, for example, required me to draw the background I’d use for them on a separate page.

Second, you can probably tell that I actually had to flip the two raiders around in the final lineart because I forgot to keep the hands their were holding their guns in consistent—and since I couldn’t flip the middle panel on the second page without ruining the composition, I decided to flip all of their other appearances so that they’d be lefties. I doubt you even can seamlessly wield those particular guns left-handed.

Third, the size of the cart that Agnes and Cass are kneeling behind changes CONSTANTLY and is dramatically oversized from the third page onward. After inking these pages, it took a lot of work to correct the inks and shrink that cart in each panel, but fortunately it came out looking good.

And finally, I completely redrew the second panel on the fifth page because it wasn’t until I had already handed he pages off to my colorist that I realized having a second profile shot of Cass so soon after a first one was just...redundant and lazy-looking. So I went back to my sketchbook and whipped up a much more unique, striking angle (I also just wasn’t satisfied with the quality of my art on that panel, so I’m very glad I redrew it). But again, my failure to plan ahead bit me in the ass and my redraw attempt wound up taking up a lot more space than I thought it would, so after inking it I had to basically surgically remove it from the other inks.

I’ll be honest with you folks: part of the reason that I work in such simple, thick, high-contrast lineart is because it’s very easy to make corrections and adjustments with stuff you could technically color in Microsoft Paint.

Transcript:

EXT. SOMEWHERE IN THE MOJAVE, morning. AGNES SANDS and ROSE OF SHARON CASSIDY stand over the wreckage of a caravan, scattered over a dirt road.

CASS: Hell.

EXT. SOMEWHERE ELSE IN THE MOJAVE, midday. Looking over a second wrecked caravan, at the bottom of a ditch.

CASS: Fuck.

EXT. PRE-WAR HIGHWAY OUTSIDE OF VEGAS, mid-afternoon. AGNES and CASS survey a third wrecked caravan.

CASS: Shit. The proof is in the pudding. Or the pile of ash, rather. These attacks were done with Van Graff guns for Crimson Caravan caps. I'm sure of it.

As CASS explains her theory to AGNES, a short distance from the caravan two RAIDERS peer at the two of them from inside a barn at a ruined farmstead. They have snake-bite tattoos on the sides of their shaved heads and are holding rifles.

CASS: The scorchmarks and residue in the wreckages? That's energy weapon shit. Plasma and laser. Silver Rush special. Not like it'd be the Brotherhood. And Crimson Caravan must have bankrolled this fucked-up little hunting trip themselves.

The RAIDERS move out from the barn, sneaking up on two passers-by who’ve stopped at the caravan wreckage.

CASS: That explains why they bought me out...they needed the last loose end to saddle up back west with a tidy sum.

(NOTE: *Agnes delivered it and Cass signed it in IKROAH #7—Lou.)

CASS: It's a racket, Agnes: torch the local competition and it's win-win for both the f—

SFX: KRAK

A gunshot rips out from one of the RAIDERS’ rifles and sears across CASS’ shoulder.

CASS (gasping): —uckers.

CASS slumps down beneath the overturned caravan wagon on the road, clutching her shot shoulder.

CASS: —Aaggghghhhhhhh.

AGNES: Cass! Are you—

CASS: Fuck! Agnes, get down you moron!

AGNES ducks behind the cover of the wooden caravan wagon just as another gunshot splinters the top lip of it.

SFX: DTHWAK!

The RAIDERS advance on CASS and AGNES’ position, firing at them from off the road.

SFX: KRAK

AGNES leans over the top of the wagon with her pistol, returning fire.

SFX: BTAK BTAK BTAK

AGNES lands a shot right in one of the RAIDERS’ guts, and she drops her weapon and falls down.

SFX: SPLUT

CASS, leaning out the side of the wagon, takes as careful of aim as she can with her shotgun by holding it with her good arm. Trembling, she fires, connecting with the other RAIDER.

SFX: KBLAM

The would-have-been RAIDERS are dead.

AGNES: ...were those the Van Graffs?

CASS: No. Just some vultures.

CASS leans back behind cover to sit against the bottom of the overturned wagon again, wincing from her shoulder injury.

CASS: Ugghhn.

AGNES (slipping off duffel bag): Cass, your shoulder—

CASS: Yeah, it's been shot. I'm pretty fucking aware.

AGNES (unzipping bag): Quick, can you take your shirt off—

CASS: What!?

AGNES: —so I can dress the wound, Cass!

CASS: Oh! Good! So you weren't coming onto me on what remains of Griffin Wares Caravan.

CASS starts removing her shirt while AGNES produces a bottle of something from her duffel bag, and dampens a rag with its contents.

CASS: And since when are you a fucking field medic, anyway?

AGNES: 2269. NCR Certified.

CASS: What?

AGES: Yeah. I've been one kind of doctor or another since I was six.

CASS: What?

AGNES: Now hold still, this is antiseptic.

CASS: Since you were six!? I...shit, wait, hang on, Agnes—

AGNES pressess the rag onto CASS’ shoulder wound, and CASS winces instinctively. But, confusingly, there isn’t any pain.

CASS: ...isn't this supposed to sting like hell?

AGNES: No, not really. It's an acetic acid solution. Vinegar, basically.

AGNES begins cleaning the wound with the rag.

CASS: I thought you put alcohol on wounds to clean them.

AGNES: That's...a common misconception. It's good for tools, maybe, but too strong for skin. And it can complicate healing if you apply it directly.

CASS: So you're telling me, all my years, I've been wasting good whiskey only making my boo-boos worse?

AGNES: I mean...it's better than nothing in a pinch, but...

CASS: Well, then. Thanks for the lecture, doc. Can you just pass the whiskey anyway? Shoulder still hurts like hell regar—

AGNES hands her the whiskey bottle. She’d already gotten it out.

CASS: —dless. Oh. Thanks.

AGNES unspools a roll of bandages in her hands, then begins wrapping it over CASS’ shoulder and across her chest..

AGNES: So. It's a relatively minor wound, more of a deep graze than a real gunshot.

CASS: You'd know all about real gunshots, huh?

AGNES (unfazed): Uh-huh. I can suture it if necessary, but for now, these bandages will be fine. Just hold still. How do you feel?

CASS: I feel fucking pissed, Agnes!

AGNES recoils, taken aback slightly.

CASS: As I was saying before I got shot in the shoulder—which, however "minor" the wound, is real fucking close to my head, Agnes—this wasn't some random attack. These caravans, my caravan, got hit by the Van Graffs and Crimson Caravan. It ain't just some tragedy anymore. Now I've got names. Places. Faces.

AGNES resumes bandaging CASS.

CASS: I told you—ow! Don't pinch my tit, dammit—

AGNES: I said hold still.

CASS: —I told you, when you told me about this guy who shot you...when I let you drag me out of that fucking outpost...and when we went to Boulder City...that I would do the exact same thing in your shoes. Now, it is the exact same thing. This fucker shoots your eye out, these fuckers ash my caravan...these same fuckers I sold my own goddamn name to on a piece of paper. I mean...what else are we doing out here, Agnes? Getting shot at by Khans and Raiders just for kicks? Are we just fucking around?

AGNES finishes bandaging CASS, then leans back, pensive.

AGNES: No...no, I really guess we’re not.

CASS: That's what I thought. Your friend in Vegas can wait. Help me get mine, and we can get that shitheel together, and that's a prom—

CASS raises her arm  to shake her fist as she speaks, straining her shoulder injury.

CASS: —mmmmmmghhhh. Ooww, oww, oww, oww...

CASS grabs her shoulder in pain while AGNES looks off in the distance and stands up. She looks out towards the horizon—towards VEGAS, and the pre-war casinos and hotels that still gleam and glitter in blinding sunlight.

Her fist clenches. Her brow furrows. Her body tenses, all over, staring at that city, that place.

The caravan wreckage remains alone on the highway, brahmin bones long picked clean by scavengers.

AGNES SANDS IN: IT KEEPS RIGHT ON A HURTIN’

VOLUME 2: MAKE IT BIG IN VEGAS

[asthmark]

❝ hotel soteria ❞ [ i ]

summary → After an assassination gone wrong, you and your partner are in critical need of a hideout and what better place than Hotel Soteria — an exclusive safe haven for the worst of the worst. But, the longer you stay, the more you become exposed to Korea’s biggest and baddest outlaws and begin to learn what the criminal life is truly all about.

warnings → mentions of death, blood n guns n stuff

word count → 3k (kind of short i’m sorry!!)

You had done something bad.

Your crimson-soaked clothes, disheveled hair, and bruise littered skin confirmed it. You ignored the blood that dribbled down your upper lip and what you were sure was a black eye forming. You shut your eyes, trying to focus on the sound of gravel beneath the tires of the car rather than the pain. You were so exhausted you had begun to doze off, before the boy in the driver's seat spoke up.  

“How you holding up back there?”

You twist your head slightly to make eye contact with Lucas through the rear view mirror and simply groan in response to his question.

You see sympathy wash over his face. “Don't worry. We'll be there soon.”

You have so many questions for him. Where exactly were you going? Why was it taking so long? Was it safe?

You're out before you can ask.

When the car door opens, you jolt awake. You crane your neck to look up at the shadow towering above you.

“C’mon, we’re here.” Lucas extends his arm out to you.  

You take his hand, finding yourself to be incredibly stiff. You both cringe when you hear your bones crack as you move ever so slowly.

When you step out of the vehicle after what seemed like an eternity, the first thing you notice is how dark it was. You had fled the crime scene a little after sunset but you could now see the yellow moon illuminate the sky.

"What time is it?" you ask, your voice hoarse.

"It's around 11. Why?"

"It's just… these past few hours have been a blur," you respond. You wince as Lucas puts your arm around him so you can use his broad shoulders as support. “We should stick to robbing banks.”

"That’s probably true... but, hey, we're not dead." He chuckles dryly.

You look at him and he flashes you that charming smile of his. It makes you feel better for a second. Then you notice the dry blood on his temple and the cut on his bottom lip.

You frown. "Are you okay?"

He nods, reassuringly but you don't fail to notice his limp as you both walk. He catches the way your eyes dart down to his injury. "Don't worry about that. I'd say we got off pretty easy this time.”

You have to agree with him there. Once your covers had been blown, you expected more police sirens and handcuffs but the current situation you find yourself in is oddly serene. Just you and him walking beneath the stars.

"Where are we going?" you ask after a moment of silence.

His answer is simple. "Hotel for criminals.”

You go still, trying to process what your partner has just said. He senses your confusion and continues explaining.

“I heard about it through a friend. Apparently, it really comes in handy when you need a hideout.”

“And it’s not just some government scheme to lure in delinquents or something?"

“It seemed legit to me. I had to pay for memberships and everything.”

"Memberships? Lucas, this whole thing sounds sketchy."

"Well, we need a place to stay. We shouldn’t spend the night at just any hotel, the cops could track us down. This place is our best bet. And look, if it is all a scam, we'll just kill 'em." Lucas offers you a bright smile that made it seem as if he were talking about something much more upbeat instead of murder.

You finally relent. "Alright. If we're gonna get caught I'd rather it be now. So, where is this place?"

You and Lucas walk and don’t stop until you reach a complex that looks to be so run down you believe it’s abandoned. The only thing that indicates that it’s the place you’re looking for is the sign that hangs above the front door.  

You read it aloud. "Hotel Soteria. Sounds… fancy."

The two of you shuffle up to the front steps, equally unsure of whether or not this was the right choice.

"Before we do this… any other ideas?" Lucas asks, his voice dropping to a whisper.

You shake your head. "Like you said, you already paid. We have the memberships. No backing down now."

Lucas seems to agree because after taking a deep breath he twists the knob and swiftly steps inside. You glance behind you, surveying the dark that engulfed the streets, then follow.

Dust is the first thing you notice about Hotel Soteria. It's everywhere. On the floor, on the portraits that litter the walls and on the front desk that is placed right in the middle of the lobby.

"So much for fancy," Lucas murmurs, lingering behind you, too busy observing the framed photos.

You make a beeline for the wooden surface. A shiny, metal bell sits atop it next to a computer and a landline phone. None of these items are dusty, though. They've been in use.

Lucas steps forward to tap the bell and you jump slightly; the ding sound cutting through the eerie silence of the hotel and startling you. The noise echoes until it fades and you're once again left with nothing but quiet.

"Do you think they're closed?" you ask, turning to face your partner.

"We never close."

You and Lucas turn around in unison to face the desk and the man that has suddenly appeared behind it, pulling out your guns and aiming them at him in record time.

The man does not seem fazed in the slightest. In fact, he seems almost bored with the two of you, his cat-like eyes narrowed into an unamused stare. “Well, good evening to you too.”

“You're the guy I talked to over the phone.” Lucas lowers his gun at hearing the man's voice more clearly. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

The man seems to remember him as he smiles ever so slightly. “Ah, Lucas, right? I'm pleased to see you got here safely.” The man then turns to you. His smile has dropped and been replaced with a look of pure disgust at seeing how you still have your weapon up. “Would you mind?”

You reluctantly lower it but not before mumbling, “This place is so sketchy.”

The man scoffs, having heard you. “What did you expect? Five star ratings? This is a place for criminals. If it bothers you so much you can go elsewhere.”

“No, no. We’re fine.” Lucas punctuates the last word by nudging your arm and shooting you a glare for your comment. He attempts to move the conversation forward. “So, uh, can we please check in?”

The man doesn't hesitate to deny him. “Nope.”

“Nope?" Lucas repeats, incredulously. “What do you mean? We paid for the membership. You have to help us."

"Actually, I don't have to do anything," the man says, smiling smugly. "Especially not when you're violating my rules."

Lucas furrows his eyebrows. "You didn't tell me anything about rules."

"You didn't ask."

You sigh. “We're tired and we’re injured. Just tell us your rules so we can get this going.”

The man clears his throat. "First of all, no weapons are allowed."

You glance at Lucas, a displeased expression on your face. He pays you no mind, opting instead to listen to the man, carefully.

"Secondly, no disrespectful words or harmful actions are allowed against the staff." You notice how his eyes flicker to you when he says this. "Third of all, your membership must be paid for in full and in advance. Fourth of all, no video or photography is permitted. Lastly, there is zero tolerance policy against killing or physical altercations of any sort. That should be a given but I've figured out you can never be too sure." He sighs and you can only imagine all the awful things that had happened in the hotel for him to have to establish that as a rule. "Violate any of these rules and your membership will immediately be terminated, no questions asked. Are we clear?"

Lucas nods vigorously.

The man's gaze shifts to you. "I asked if we were clear."

"Crystal," you respond.

He smiles once more but it lacks emotion. “Perfect. You can leave any weapons or firearms right here.”

Lucas obeys, pulling his gun from his holster and placing it on the desk. You copy his action, biting back a complaint.

The man nods, satisfied with your cooperation. “They will be returned once your stay ends. Now, Yangyang will escort you to your room.”

As if on cue, the sound of footsteps are heard and another man appears—if you could even call him that. He looks more like a boy to you, if anything. You wonder what he’s doing working at a place like this. Was it possible that he had a criminal record of some sort? If he did, he certainly did not show it. He had a warm smile on his face, a stark contrast from the cold faced man at the front desk. He makes a motion for you to follow him and leads you up a set of stairs, away from the lobby. For a moment, it’s only the sound of footsteps and creaking but surprisingly, he decides to make conversation.  

“What did you guys do?” he asks. His voice seems childlike, like a nosy little boy.

“Huh?”

He chuckles at your answer. “Well, you’re not here for fun, right? You’re running from something.”

Lucas chimes in. “Police.”

Yangyang makes a face, as if the mere thought of any legal authority disgusts him. “So, what was it then? Why are they after you two?”

“Killed a guy,” your partner answers, nonchalantly.

“Ah, good ol’ murder. You guys don’t seem like the type to just go on killing sprees, I’m guessing there must’ve been a pretty good pay to do the job.”

You nod. “That’s the only reason we did it. Robbing banks just wasn’t enough anymore.”

“Well, for people in your line of business, Hotel Soteria is the right place to be. Perfect getaway spot to lay low until the cops get off your back. Only people who know about this place have memberships and besides, there’s no photograph evidence of what goes on inside.”

Lucas smirks. “Guess those rules do come in handy.”

The young boy nods. “That’s the only way the hotel has lasted as long as it has.”

“Handing over my gun to that guy was still the toughest thing I’ve done all day,” you huff.

Yangyang laughs. “Even over killing that dude? Wow, Ten must’ve been really bad to you.”

“Ten?”

“The angry guy at the front desk,” Yangyang explains. “He’s not that bad, I promise. He just cares about this place a lot. Too much, almost.”

Quiet falls upon the three of you. Luckily, you don’t have to endure any awkward silence as Yangyang hands you the key to your room.

“Enjoy your stay. If you need anything, don’t be shy, okay?”

You and Lucas both nod your heads and with that he disappears down the hall. Lucas wastes no time unlocking the door.

You expect a run down room but once the lights are flicked on, you find that it’s rather well kept. The beds are made neatly and there’s not a speck of dust, unlike the lobby that was covered in it. Lucas flops on to a mattress, not even bothering to get under the sheets. He tucks his hands beneath his head and contentedly sighs.

“I’ve been waiting for this.”

You smile and make your way over to him. “It’s been a rough day.”

He nods then scoots over to the edge of the bed. You only realize he’s making room for you when he pats the space next to him.

You can’t help but smile. “Lucas, there’s two beds.”

He mirrors your grin. “Doesn’t matter.”

He opens his arms towards you and you can’t deny the urge you feel to climb into his arms and stay there until the mess you’ve found yourself in is all over.  

So, you do.

His arms envelop your figure and you just about melt into his embrace. You can’t ignore how tightly he holds you and you feel almost embarrassed at how much you enjoy it. Of course, doing what the two of you did for a living hardly left any time for tender moments like these so when they did happen, your relished in it. You feel yourself begin to doze off faster than ever before and you credit the man holding you entirely.

“I can’t believe I’m cuddling with someone capable of murder,” you mumble, tiredly.

Lucas’ ears pick it up and he chuckles, his chest rumbling against your back. “I could say the same thing.”

You smile and that’s exactly how you fall asleep.

When you wake up, it’s still pitch black.

That’s nothing new for you. The jobs you and Lucas did usually required you to wake up before the crack of dawn. With the dark working as your cover, it made sneaking up on your target a million times easier. You’re about to dismiss the disturbance in your sleep as pure habit and close your eyes once more when you hear talking. You could tell it wasn’t just a conversation between a couple people because of how incredibly loud it was—it had to be a large group.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re slipping out of Lucas’ grip and climbing out of bed. You stop once you reach the door of your room, pressing your ear firmly against it. You listen carefully, seeing if you can pick up anything that’s being said. The sound is still muffled, almost like it’s far away and you assume it’s coming from downstairs. Without a second thought you grab your key off the nightstand, giving Lucas’ unconscious figure a quick glance. His snores fill the room, your movement thankfully not causing any disturbance in his sleep.

With that, you leave the room.

Darkness engulfs you as soon as you step into the hallway and you almost instantly regret leaving the comfort of your bed and Lucas. You know it isn’t too late to turn around and find your way back into his arms but you realize how much clearer you can hear the chatter from downstairs and your curiosity gets the best of you. You try to walk as quietly as possible to the end of the hallway although you’re sure that even if you stomped the entire way no one would notice since the commotion is getting louder and louder with every step you take. Finally, you reach the top of the stairs and you wait there, leaning against the wall and tuning into the conversation.

“—such short notice.” You recognize the voice as Ten’s.

“Well, forgive me. I can’t usually find the time to call you in the middle of a heist. I’d get my brains blown out before I even finished dialing your number.” This voice is new but right off the bat you can tell they hold enough sarcasm to rival Ten’s.

“All I’m saying is a heads up would have been nice,” Ten responds and you can almost visualize the annoyed look on his face. “Nearly all the rooms are booked.”

You hear a string of groans and complaints. Just how many people were down there?

“You’ve gotta figure something out,” the same voice from before says. “We did some real damage this time, Ten.”

He scoffs. “That’s certainly nothing new.”

“We need to stay here, it’s the only place we’re really safe.” The person clears his throat. “Please.”

A chorus of agreements follow, multiple other voices pleading with Ten. Then there’s a pause. Even you hold your breath, wondering what he will say.

“Fine. I guess I could work something out.”

There’s immediately cheering and excited shouting following this statement.

“I knew you’d give in.” You can tell that the same guy who had been bargaining with Ten moments before is the one to say this. Everyone simmers down, as if they need to listen attentively to his every word. Was he perhaps some kind of leader?

“Is that so?”

“You could never turn us away. Even if you wanted to.”

“Of course not. But you know just how much I love to see you beg, Lee. Consider it giving you a run for your money.”

He scoffs. “You’re one to talk about money. One membership here is worth Johnny’s entire closet.” This comment produces laughs from the group. You guess this Johnny guy had some expensive taste. “At this point I think you’re a better con man than all of us combined.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. Stealing and lying is your second nature.” The brutal bluntness of Ten’s statement gains a couple chuckles. “And if you really had a problem with paying for so many memberships, you would stop adding member after member into your little gang.” This really seems to crack them up and even you find yourself smiling a bit, imagining the large group crammed downstairs and having to deal with Ten’s relentless sass (which you had experienced first hand).

“You just keep getting bolder and bolder, huh?” There's a pause and you almost begin to think he’s going to snap. Instead, the voice goes from smug to surprisingly genuine. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Right back at you. It’s a shame that Mark setting off security alarms is what brought us together.”

“Hey!” someone—Mark, you assume—protests. “It was an accident!”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s just get you into your rooms. You already know the rules, drop your weapons and you can go right ahead. And Yuta, if I find out you smuggled any firearms in again I will make sure the police know your name, okay?”

Yuta huffs. “And I’ll make sure they know you work the front desk at a bad guy hotel.”

“Excuse me? Did I misunderstand or did you just threaten a harmful act against a staff member?” You can hear the teasing tone in Ten’s voice. You know he must love having authority over every person that sets foot in the building thanks to the rules he established.

“‘Course not, sir,” responds Yuta in an overly polite, purposefully high pitched voice.

“Well, in that case, enjoy your stay at Hotel Soteria, boys.”

a/n → omg!! finally part one is out!!!1! firstly THIS IS NOT MY CONCEPT and is based loosely off a film called Hotel Artemis which i have actually never watched but i remember seeing the commercials for it on tv and being like “wow that’s a really cool concept :-)” secondly i’m not sure how many parts this series is gonna have or even what direction it’s going in all i know is that i want to introduce all of nct bc i enjoy giving ppl criminal backgrounds lol anyway feedback is greatly appreciated and i hoped u liked it 

[artificialqueens]

(Your Body Is) Out of this World (Shalaska) - Citrus

A/N: thank u to Mistress for beta-ing and subsequently bullying me into posting this

Summary: Dr. Sharon Needles is assigned to examine the newest alien arrival on their interstellar compound. Things do not go as she planned. Smut, 3.9k words.

Sharon had never seen a specimen like this before, and she’d been working at this facility for six years. Sure, the infinite expanse of space was filled with any number of cosmic horrors, and she’d seen quite a few of its offerings, but she’d never encountered anything like this.

Looking through the shielded glass of the MRI room for the first time, she’d been astounded. Inside was a humanoid that resembled Sharon’s own race in all of the fundamental ways, but was decidedly different in others. This alien looked like, well, what an alien in a video game would look like; a feminine figure with impossible proportions, yet still enough to appear human to an extent. She was long-legged and a little gangly, but not skin-and-bones; clearly there was strong muscle and soft fat beneath her shimmering blue-green skin. Her eyes were almost completely black, and when the alien had turned to make eye contact with Sharon, she’d looked away.

A Glamtr0nian. Their planet was shrouded in mystery, its people renowned for their incredible beauty, but not much was known about their physiology. Their concept of gender was beyond the realm of human imagination, but this particular one had disclosed an identification somewhere close to the human concept of womanhood, and had expressed consent toward being referred to as a “she.”

Now it was exam day. Sharon would be conducting a physical examination of the facility’s first Glamtr0nian specimen. She adjusted her glasses nervously as she stepped in front of the exam room door, pressing her palm against the scanner and waiting for her entrance permissions to clear. The doors slid open to reveal a second set of doors, a security measure in the event that specimens attempted to make an escape. It didn’t happen often, but it was a nice precaution to have. The outer doors would be secured by armed guards as well, if Sharon needed backup or found herself in a volatile situation.

The doors opened, and Sharon stepped inside. The alien was waiting for her, sitting on the exam table and showing no signs of distress and looking, for all intents and purposes, fairly comfortable. Her long, silvery-blonde hair was no longer piled into two buns on the top of her head like it had been when she’d arrived, but was now brushed back into a sleek, shiny ponytail. Her eyes were still black as night, but her makeup was definitely toned down, as if she was barely wearing any at all. A little hesitantly, Sharon stepped forward to conduct her first test: ensuring that the alien’s translation chip had been upgraded when she arrived at their facility.

“Can you understand me?”

Turning her head at the sound of Sharon’s voice, the Glamtr0nian looked at her and nodded.

“I was getting bored in here. It’s kind of unnerving to have all of these medical instruments around me, you know.”

“I understand, sorry about that,” Sharon smiled. “My name is Dr. Needles, I’ll be performing your examination today. Do you use a name?”

“Princess Alaska Joanne Elizabeth Thunderfuck 5000 of the planet Glamtr0n. Alaska is fine, or Your Highness if you’re kinky. So what’ll you be doing to me today, Doc Needles? That’s a fitting name, by the way.”

Sharon flushed, but tried not to let it affect her. “It’s just a routine physical exam. Making sure you’re healthy and figuring out what you need in order to design an ideal habitat.”

“You make me sound like a zoo animal,” Alaska grumped. “You’re not gonna put me on display, are you?”

Sharon shook her head, taken aback. “Not at all. This is just protocol while our engineering team works on repairing your spacecraft. It would be rude to stick you in a hotel room that was badly-suited for your particular needs.”

“Oh, that’s fine then,” Alaska said, sounding relieved. “I got kinda worried when they made me do all those MRIs and x-rays and stuff. The translation chip upgrade was cool though, I needed the newest language expansion. Thanks for that.”

“I’ll let Dr. West know you appreciate it,” Sharon smiled. “Are you ready to begin?”

“Do your worst.”

They went through a few of the simpler tests, like necessary air components and temperature preference, before moving on to diet and physical activity requirements. It turned out that Glamtr0nians were incredibly adaptable, to an extent that Sharon had never seen before, and their ability to shapeshift made it much easier to assimilate to any environment that they needed to.

“Are you comfortable if we move on to a more… private portion of the exam?”

“How private are we talking, Doc?” Alaska asked with a smirk. “You gonna probe me?”

Sharon blushed. “Not quite. If you’re comfortable doing so, I’d like to ask you to disrobe and allow me to record your body’s reactions to some simple tests.” Alaska’s robe was gone before she’d even finished her sentence, and she blushed even deeper at the sight of what was essentially a naked blue-green woman in front of her, covered only by a flashy silver thong.

“I thought you’d never ask. That thing was driving me insane.”

“Really? Was the fabric uncomfortable to you?“ That would be an interesting thing to make note of, for the sake of future patients.

“The fabric was fine, it was just so loose. I prefer to wear things with a much tighter fit, or nothing at all. Personal preference. Now you can test away.” She crossed her legs and leaned back on her palms, those dark eyes looking right at Sharon with such intensity that she thought she might melt. But she had a job to do, and dammit, she was going to do it.

Sharon took a reflex hammer from the table and checked Alaska’s reflexes, which were a little faster than a normal human’s but generally pretty normal. Taking her stethoscope from around her neck, she placed it on Alaska’s bare chest and waited, trying not to be a perv by looking at her perky breasts, though they were difficult to ignore.

“Very weak heartbeat…” she mumbled to herself, and Alaska giggled.

“It’s on the other side. Here,” she said, placing her hand over Sharon’s and guiding it to the right side of her chest. Sharon tried her hardest not to blush.

“Right. Is this a normal resting heart rate for you?"

"It’s a little higher,” Alaska answered, and Sharon looked at her, curious.

“Is this exam making you nervous?"

"Sure,” the alien replied, “Let’s go with that.”

Seemingly oblivious, Sharon continued. “I hate to ask this, but how’s your sexual health?”

“I’d say it’s just fine,” Alaska purred. “I assume this is all protocol?”

“Yeah, I have to go through this part just to make sure there’s no risk of any kind of outbreak in the compound. Who you choose to engage with isn’t our business, we just don’t want anything to spread– Not that I’m implying that you have anything,” she added, blushing. “It’s just precautionary.”

“I didn’t think you were,” Alaska said. “As far as I’m aware, I’m not carrying anything. I get tested regularly.”

Sharon copied that down in her notes. “That makes my job a lot easier. Are you sexually compatible with members of species outside your own?”

“Very.” Alaska smirked. “I’d say almost universally.”

“Really?” Sharon found herself blushing again. “You have that in common with humans, then.”

“Oh, I know,” Alaska answered, giving her gorgeous doctor a once-over. Were humans exceptionally dense, or was this one just not catching onto her advances? She was beginning to get frustrated with Sharon’s apparent lack of interest. Then again, she was doing that thing where her cheeks turned all pink and she radiated warmth, which was kind of adorable. “I’ve been told that humans are the most compatible species with my own. Sexually, at least. Especially the brunettes.”

“Why is that?”

Alaska bit her lip, gazing into the doctor’s eyes. “You know, for a doctor, you’re really kind of dumb.”

“Why would you think th– oh. Oh.” Sharon took a few steps back, blushing even harder than before. “Have you been-”

"Hitting on you this whole time? Yes. Kinda wish we’d met under different circumstances, not as a doctor and patient, because you’re very attractive and I’d like to have wildly kinky interspecies sex with you.”

This was, surprisingly, not the first time an alien had hit on Sharon during an exam. However, she’d be a liar if she said she wasn’t attracted to this particular alien, and it had taken her much longer than usual to catch on to Alaska’s flirting. Come to think of it, she’d been feeling rather warm since she first entered the room… Had she just been repressing her desire this entire time? It definitely sounded like something she would do.

“You know, I think I’ve written down everything you need to be comfortable in your section of the compound,” she said slowly, looking into Alaska’s inky-black eyes. “We could always save the regular checkup for another time.”

Alaska’s eyes widened as she realized what Sharon was doing, and her cheeks turned a delicate shade of turquoise. “You’re right. After all, they’ll probably be repairing my ship for a while…"

"I’d say a few weeks at least,” Sharon agreed.

"Right. Complex craft, that one is.”

“We have plenty of time for a follow-up exam.”

“Plenty.”

“I’m sure both of us have other things we could be doing with our time.”

“Oh, I can think of a few.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm. And if you don’t put your mouth on my mouth in the next ten seconds, I think I’ll explode.”

They had been inching closer to one another throughout this exchange, but when Alaska begged to be kissed, Sharon’s composure was finally broken. She leaned against the exam table, capturing Alaska’s lips with her own and letting out a surprised whine when Alaska’s tongue was much longer than she’d expected. Fuck, she’d give anything for that tongue between her legs…

“You’re so sexy,” Sharon mumbled against the alien’s plush lips, her hands moving from the exam table to rest on Alaska’s thighs. They were slightly cooler than Sharon’s own body temperature, and impossibly soft and smooth; her skin was almost comparable to silicone in its texture, but wondrously alive. “God, I want you so bad.” As her right hand moved to Alaska’s inner thigh, her fingertips brushed against the thin strap of her thong. “Can I touch you?”

“Fuck yes,” Alaska breathed, her dark eyes half-lidded with lust. When Sharon cupped her and then froze, she looked up at the doctor with confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“Sorry, I-” Sharon blushed and withdrew her hand. “I didn’t think to ask what… what you had going on down there. I guess I just assumed it was as humanoid as the rest of you.” She bit her lip, trying not to turn an even deeper shade of red as she looked up at Alaska. When she’d touched her, she’d felt a distinct bulge, and she was both curious and turned on by whatever was hidden by Alaska’s silvery underwear.

The alien smiled coyly. “Do you want to see?” Wordlessly, Sharon nodded and took a step back to allow her patient-turned-paramour to stand. Alaska hooked her fingers under the straps of her flimsy undergarment and pulled them over her hips, sliding her panties off completely and setting them on the exam table. She hopped up onto the table once more and spread her legs, giving Sharon full view of just what she was working with.

It was like nothing Sharon had ever seen. Confirming her suspicions that Alaska was completely hairless from the neck down, the alien was bare and wet, her dewy folds all but dripping with a bright blue fluid that seemed to give off a light of its own. It looked remarkably like what Sharon expected from an alien pussy, but the star of the show made itself obvious in the place where Alaska’s clit would be, had she been human. Though blue-green like the rest of her skin and shaped somewhat oddly with a tapering tip, it was unmistakably a penis, and it was leaking the same luminous fluid as her pussy– or perhaps it had dripped down, Sharon wasn’t sure.

“Fuck. Wow."

Alaska’s external member twitched and she bit her lip, flustered. "Is that a good ‘fuck, wow’ or a bad one?"

"Definitely good,” Sharon breathed, “Holy shit.”

“Do you still want to-"

”Yes,“ Sharon interrupted her, stepping between her legs again. "I want you. Fuck.”

Alaska smiled, clearly relieved. “Y'know, Dr. Needles, you’re wearing an awful lot of clothing right now…” She tugged at the lapels of Sharon’s labcoat, teasing. “C'mon, I showed you mine…”

Sharon grinned at her and began to undress, taking her time as she stripped down to her bra and panties. With every article of clothing she removed, she watched Alaska’s member grow a little stiffer; by the time she unclipped her bra, Alaska had grown several times her original size and was dripping all over her thighs and the exam table.

“You’re so hot, come here,” she whined, reaching out for the doctor and letting out a soft moan when Sharon moved closer, one hand skimming the alien’s slender waist. “Fuck, I didn’t think a strip tease could make me so wet.”

“That’s what that is, huh?” Sharon smirked, gesturing to the little luminescent mess Alaska had made.

“Whaaat, you’ve never seen Glamtr0nian precum?” Alaska whined, clearly desperate for some kind of action. “You wanna touch me, or are you gonna make me suffer forever?"

Sharon eyed Alaska’s pulsing member, a little apprehensive. "It’s not corrosive, is it?"

"Not to humans. I’ve been told it tastes like candy, too.”

“Well now you’re just lying to me so I’ll go down on you,” Sharon laughed. “What do you call it, anyway? Your… external part, I mean.”

“Same as you,” the alien shrugged. “On Glamtr0n we all have a pussy and a cock. It’s super easy for us to fuck,” she added with a giggle. “We’re kinda stretchy and can take a lot more than it looks like. But that’s not really relevant here.”

“And why’s that?” Sharon challenged.

Alaska gave her a look, and she withered almost immediately. “Because it’s so obvious that you want me inside you,” she answered as if Sharon had already known. And, to be fair, she had a point. Sharon definitely wanted Alaska’s alien cock to rearrange her gastrointestinal structures, but she wasn’t going to admit that out loud. Yet.

“You think so?” Sharon teased, stealing a kiss. “You’ve already made a mess of yourself, and you expect me to believe that you won’t blow your load the second you’re inside me?”

Alaska chased the doctor’s lips, running her hands down Sharon’s chest and squeezing her breasts. Fuck, she was so warm and soft and human. “I guess that’s up to you… Are you gonna let me fuck you so you can find out?” She trailed a palm down Sharon’s body to cup her over her panties, and smirked when she felt that they were wet. “You’re a bold talker for someone who’s dripping just as much as I am, Dr. Needles.”

“I think you owe me a favor for making a mess of my exam table,” Sharon breathed, her eyes dark and wide as Alaska’s long fingers pressed against her. “Don’t you?”

“Oh, you’re right, I’m terribly sorry for that,” the alien princess smirked. Just like that, her fingertips had grown talon-like nails, and she used them to slice away the straps of Sharon’s panties; as soon as the wet fabric hit the floor, Alaska’s hands were back to normal, pressing between the doctor’s folds and feeling how wet she truly was.

“Could’ve warned me before you did that,” Sharon said, but it was clear from her tone that she wasn’t upset at all, and rather more turned on because of it. “Oh, fuck.” Alaska’s fingers had found her entrance and a long, slender digit curled inside her, deeper than she’d ever been touched before. Alaska smirked, cupping Sharon’s cheek with her other hand and drawing her in for a kiss.

“You’re so warm… and Goddess, so fucking tight…” Her voice was low and sultry, even more so than before, and Sharon felt weak in her embrace. “I’ll have to be nice and slow with you… Make sure you can take me…”

“You’re evil,” Sharon whined as a second finger joined the first inside her, “You shouldn’t be able to make me feel this fucking good.”

Alaska laughed. “No? Would you like me to stop, then?”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Sharon growled, clenching down on Alaska’s fingers and enjoying the alien’s soft gasp of surprise. “God, fuck, you’re so good.”

“You swear a lot,” Alaska grinned, feeling blindly with her thumb for the little bud that she knew resided in the place where her own cock would be. When she found it, Sharon all but whimpered, falling forward to lean against her lover’s chest for support as she worked her magic.

“Holy shit.”

“Should we change positions? I don’t want you hurting yourself,” Alaska asked, a wicked glimmer in her eye. Sharon nodded, and allowed the alien to gently maneuver her body so that she was leaning against the exam table, her legs spread just enough for Alaska to kneel between them.

“Fuck.” Sharon had wanted Alaska between her legs, and now it was happening.

The alien kissed Sharon’s thighs, remembering that humans liked it when their skin was marked up, and sucked a hickey or two into the soft flesh. Her long tongue flicked upwards, tasting the wetness that had gathered on Sharon’s folds and stifling a moan at the taste of her. “Fuck, I’ll never get tired of human pussy,” she mumbled into Sharon’s thigh, causing the doctor to giggle and blush. “You’re so fucking wet.” Her tongue slid between Sharon’s lips again, lapping at her pussy eagerly as she listened to her soft moans of pleasure. Daringly, she teased at Sharon’s entrance before darting inside and tasting her deeply, and the human woman let out a cry.

“Oh my fucking god!” Alaska was every lesbian’s wet dream, and Sharon could hardly believe she had such a gorgeous and talented woman between her thighs. “Shit, you’re so good,” she whined as that impossibly long tongue fluttered over her clit and curled against her aching pussy. If she didn’t slow down soon, Sharon was going to make an embarrassing mess of herself.

“You taste so good, baby,” Alaska moaned, taking a moment to breathe. Sharon looked down at her, brushing a silver-blonde lock of hair away from her face where it had escaped her ponytail. Alaska’s cheeks were flushed and her eyes were half-lidded, and she looked absolutely debauched, like there was nowhere in the universe she’d rather be than on her knees between Sharon’s legs.

Sharon bit her lower lip, feeling her own face heat up. “You look so good like this.”

“Hardly royal behavior, is it?” Alaska breathed with a little chuckle. “On my knees pleasuring a commoner while I’m soaked and unfulfilled.” It was clear that she was being playful, but once glance at her dick made it obvious just how badly she needed to be touched.

“Come here,” Sharon said, pulling the alien princess to her feet and immediately wrapping her fingers around her weeping cock. Alaska gasped sharply, her hips thrusting against Sharon’s touch of their own accord as the doctor stroked her carefully. “Is this good?”

“So good,” Alaska whined, and Sharon tightened her grip, moving a little faster. She learned quickly that unlike humans, Alaska had more than one deeply sensitive spot; her base was just as sensitive as her tip, and when Sharon slipped two fingers into her pussy, she keened and squirmed. “You are fucking incredible,” the princess praised her, doing her best to fuck herself on Sharon’s fingers while also thrusting up into her hand. “You’ll kill me before I can cum.”

“Who says I’m going to let you cum?” Sharon teased her, laughing when Alaska let out a pathetic whimper. “I’m kidding, I promise. Although this angle is kind of awkward, so…” She pulled her fingers out of Alaska despite soft protesting from the alien, and settled for kissing her deeply instead.

Alaska’s fingers found Sharon’s clit, and their lips met once more as they pleasured one another. Sharon came first, whining and shaking against Alaska’s delicate touch, and the princess slipped out of her grasp to kneel between her legs again and clean her up. Sharon was almost painfully sensitive, so Alaska took care to be gentle with her, and kissed her hip sweetly before coming back up to kiss her on the mouth.

“You don’t have to do anything for me,” she breathed, batting Sharon’s hand away. “I’ll take care of myself.”

Sharon frowned, her mind still a little foggy from her orgasm. “You sure? I want you to feel good…”

Alaska smiled. “It’s okay. I’m kind of messy when I cum…”

“I think we’ve made a mess already,” Sharon laughed, looking around the exam room at the disarrayed tables, piles of clothing, and little puddles of fluid (mostly Alaska’s). “I’ve never seen a girl get as wet as you do.”

The alien blushed. “It’s just how our bodies work… We’re really sexual beings, we like to be ready for anything.”

“I don’t mind the mess,” Sharon smiled, stealing another kiss. “You sure you don’t wanna finish inside me?” she asked, trying to tempt her lover into another round.

Alaska bit her lip, clearly considering the offer. “I don’t think you wanna risk an interspecies pregnancy this early in our relationship,” she grinned. “I’ll try not to make too much of a mess, I promise.”

“God, just let me touch you,” Sharon pleaded, and Alaska laughed aloud. She turned her back on Sharon, leaning against her chest as her hand moved down to begin pumping herself. “How’s this?” The question came out breathier than she’d meant it to, but she could hardly be blamed for being so fucking close already; Dr. Sharon Needles was magic.

Sharon’s hands roamed over her waist and hips before moving up to knead her breasts, peppering kisses over her shoulders and neck. One hand slid between her legs, fingers pressing up inside her and moving in time with her sloppy hand movements. “This is perfect. Cum for me, baby.”

Alaska let out a low cry, cumming into her fist and around Sharon’s fingers in an explosive release of that luminous fluid, now thicker and glowing even brighter than before. Sharon’s hand, Alaska’s thighs, and the floor of the exam room were a mess, but Sharon really couldn’t bring herself to care when she had a panting, writhing alien princess pressed against her, letting out silent sobs of pleasure as she came down.

“T-told you I was messy,” Alaska managed to say, all but collapsing against Sharon’s chest. The doctor smiled, pressing a warm, liquid kiss against Alaska’s neck.

“Yeah. You’re so pretty when you cum.”

Alaska blushed cerulean. “You think so?”

“Well, you’re pretty no matter what you’re doing. But even prettier when you’re like this.” Sharon pulled her fingers out of the alien princess and turned her so that they were facing one another. “We should probably clean up, huh?”

Alaska smiled, leaning forward to kiss Sharon deeply.

“Yeah. We probably should.”

[seafleece]

essek keeps it in the back of his head— caleb’s strong, even if he’s the only one that sees it. caleb tells him about growing up, about being an only child, about how work was work and studies were studies, and he blinks and thinks dreamily of retiring to somewhere in whatever the empire will be after all of this— empty fields, under the sun, perhaps— and growing something, in the earth. creating something, plain and uncorrupted.

something to hold onto, he tells himself, even if the others don’t quite trust him yet. even if the end of a war might mean nothing at all.

he and caleb go to meet the mage in nicodranas, once between excursions. the others run off immediately, fjord and caduceus to their mother’s lighthouse, beau and jester to see jester’s mother and veth tagging along to see her family. yasha stays for a moment, says something quiet to caleb, and ducks out again— after jester and beau, he thinks.

and they do talk business, for a while, talk of the tenuous nature of peace. the end to the war has not tipped the balance into the positive, you see. trust is tangible, a positive, and war a negative. but this? this halt of combat, it’s just. nothingness. so easily tipped to either side.

caleb has been missing a teacher, essek thinks. not just since— well, since before all of this— but his whole life, someone who believed in him properly, not just belief in what he could do for them. it makes him sad, to think he can’t quite be that for caleb, but, well, he can do other things for caleb. he can see the spark in caleb’s eyes, speaking to yussa about what he’s learned since last they spoke, and, not wanting to interrupt, retires to the corner.

essek watches yussa for a long time— he shows his age in ways caleb likely does not recognize. it’s hard for anyone to know, and yussa is not kryn, but essek knows he was the teacher of oremid hass, and spends a time trying to guess how old he is.

he gets nowhere.

the information seems to be conflicting— he doesn’t have many wrinkles, slight as they would appear, to his face, only a few around the eyes. nothing there.

from his ears, though, essek would guess older than that— they’re especially long, and curl back against his head.

and yussa’s eyes, well— they seem ancient. it’s rare essek would call something truly golden, but it seems appropriate, here. he regards essek almost the way that leylas does, that his mother did. as someone who, until further notice, finds him so comparatively small, so young, that they expect nothing new of him, nothing of magnitude. yussa hides it well, at least, better than an umavi. at the very least, essek thinks, he feels a reason to hide contempt. it still makes his skin crawl.

what has yussa errenis done, he wonders, to warrant such a look to his eyes? how long has he lived?— and is about to ask him this, tunes in to the conversation again.

“—ja, well, i got a late start, i suppose. blumenthal is not exactly a place of higher learning. i grew up tending fields.”

“caleb’s very strong,” he says, surprising himself. “stronger than you, i’m sure. it wasn’t a waste.”

caleb flushes immediately, bright pink down to his open collar. “um— i—”

he expects yussa to be nonplussed, to seem scandalized. to admit it, at best. this, he can gauge.

but yussa errenis tips back his head and laughs, loud and sudden. he looks over at essek with those ancient eyes, and then to caleb, and rolls up the sleeve of his robe, the arm beneath thin and unassuming. a caster’s arm, not a worker’s. perhaps that of an old man.

“well, then, shadowhand. care to make a wager?”

there are things that do not fade with age— not until the very end, at least, or when otherwise stolen. the mind, the tongue.

strength, though. strength leaves you years, decades, centuries early. especially if one is not— and he looks at yussa for another moment— in constant upkeep.

“a secret,” he says. “if caleb wins, i may ask you a question you must answer truthfully. if you win, the same from caleb. or me.”

“deal,” says yussa. “dangerous, don’t you think?”

“only dangerous if i believe caleb will lose. i do not, though.”

caleb has said nothing this entire time, but the color drains from his cheeks again. this, too, is some guard in this matter— caleb knows what he has to lose, and will do almost anything to keep him from losing it. his eyebrows pull even lower over his eyes as he looks at essek, and essek just nods.

caleb takes a breath, and then flattens the fingers of his right hand into his palm until the knuckles pop. it is intensely alluring.

yussa has a smaller table, and they take either side of it, hands clasped in the middle. essek needs to be sure— he takes a moment and casts, expands his sight, sees the careful nothingness of caleb that originates from the amulet. it had been his bane, in previous months, trying to ascertain where they were, less directly, trying to look in on these people he wished to know so badly, but now, knowing the danger caleb has always been in, that he is in even in this peaceful moment, he finds it comforting.

yussa, though, glows entirely with a thin sheen of transmutative magic. he racks his brain— it seems innate, somehow, certainly not put on for this moment. he decides to save it for his question, when caleb wins.

essek reaches out to hold both of theirs, steady them in the middle. they’re both holding loosely, for the moment, but he finds himself more focused on where his fingers meet caleb’s than on who seems to be stronger, in this moment.

“ready?”

they both nod. yussa’s posture is relaxed, but caleb is all tension, all fear, some confusion as to why this has happened.

“begin,” essek says, smoothly, and releases their hands.

he almost doesn’t see it, it is so quick. there’s a momentary— truly momentary— motion to his side from caleb, and then caleb’s hand is flat against the table, forearm twisted back, with a loud thunk.

there’s a moment of silence. caleb looks absolutely horrified, and yussa just smiles, a lazy thing. it feels as though the floor has fallen from under essek.

“well, that’s that,” yussa says breezily, and releases caleb. “my question, shadowhand—“

the moment feels sluggish, suspended— not warm, or friendly, anymore, more like the time essek’s first advanced tutor had used time stop in their room and spent his created eternity flicking essek’s forehead with a grin while essek tried to blink.

“—how are you enjoying the city? i have never truly grown accustomed to the majesty of the sea when she balances the sun, not in my many years here.”

he knows, essek thinks. first, what essek had meant to ask, and everything he had wagered to try and ask it.

then, everything clears in his head.

the robes, the tower, the eyes, the strength, the magic covering him like a second skin— it had looked for all the world like scales. that phrase— ‘the sea when she balances the sun’— it’s from a book. a fable, well-written enough to be considered a classic, about a kingdom of islands, and the great gold dragon that ruled it.

he looks at caleb, who is young enough to still show confusion the moment he feels it, and thinks that caleb has perhaps stumbled upon the best teacher there may be anywhere. he has never met a gold dragon, but one this reserved is old indeed, old enough to have outgrown his greed, his ostentatiousness. he wonders if he and leylas have met, him only slightly younger and leylas someone else entirely. he wonders if his mother has met this dragon.

“i love it here,” essek says, and moves to press his side against caleb’s shoulder. “and yes, the sun in the morning. it turns the entire ocean gold.”

yussa’s grin widens. the glint to his eyes, it changes in that moment, from politely hidden contempt to genuine, muted surprise. delight. essek wonders if anyone in this city knows. if anyone in the world knows.

he must be lonely, essek thinks. a loneliness he at once feels in his bones and cannot fathom. yussa asks them to stay for dinner, and caleb says he needs to check on the others, wants to see how veth is doing, and kisses essek in the foyer before he goes, brief— “we’ll talk, later,” he says, and essek knows he will not tell him. he might lend him the fable book, though, the worn copy he keeps in his vault.

“i’d be glad to stay,” he says, and yussa’s face breaks, for a moment, into something fragile, something genuine. something mortal.

there is much to talk about.

(for the shadowgast discord server, love y’all)

[addicted-to-dc]

Red Hood’s Little Monster (Part 6)- Red Hood/Jason Todd X Gender fluid!Reader

Welp, I’m actually posting something! Hopefully you all will enjoy this VERY long fic. Also, I currently do not have my tag list on me, so I cannot tag anyone for a while, not until I can find my list.

Warnings: Anger issues? Flirting?

"Come on, man, you gotta help me out," you begged, barely suppressing the urge to roll your eyes at your own words. "I just need one identity, I don't care who, but I need one now."

Norm shook his head, pacing around the room while biting his nail, "You know that I can't do it in less than a day! I need at least a week in advance to do it, to make sure it is prepared properly and won't get any red flags! You know if you get caught while using a passport and documents from me, that could damage my reputation!"

"Oh come on! You gave me one in three days," you spat, trying to keep your emotions in control, "and I'm offering double the pay that I gave you that time! I don't give a shit what gender, race, hell, I don't care what age, just give me a goddamn passport and a picture of the poor bastard. You know that I can handle situations like these, can you?"

He pointed at you, shaking his hand as he muttered a few curses. Wiping his face, he scratched his beard as he thought up for some type of solution, something that could save him from being killed by you. As soon as he thought of something, he ran into the back room and dug through his things, searching for the one type of person that would guarantee her a way to escape. Grasping onto the documents, he walked back into the room and handed you what you requested.

Looking over the documents, you scanned over the man in the photo. He had a handsome face, but his face would definitely blend in. His dark skin glowed in the sunlight of the photo, making his dark brown eyes look like honey.

"What happened to him?" you asked Norm, pocketing the documents.

"Disappeared without a trace," he replied solemnly. "He had no family, friends, or next of kin, so you will not deal with any unwanted attention."

"Did you know him?" you questioned, watching his eyes shift to the floor. "If this is too personal I will not take-"

"No, take it," Norm stated, waving you off. "He was a... a good guy, a loving one, too, but his kindness got him killed. It's somewhat comforting that a little bit of him will be back, y' know?"

You nodded, "Thank you, Norm. The money will be transferred to you tomorrow, I just need to get a head start before drawing attention to your bank account."

"I know the drill by now," he chuckled, patting you on the shoulder. "Stay safe out there."

"You, too," you replied, adjusting your jacket before leaving the building.

Stepping out into the sun, you pulled your sunglasses onto your face and continued forward, determined to slink back into the shadows like you always did. You had the upper hand now, but for how long? They had more resources than you by far, but it would take time for them to get everything. Your father's quarrel with Bruce Wayne would spark arguments if he requested help from him, but there was the possibility that his familial instincts will suspend the fighting.

Huffing, you moved forward on your path, heading to the nearest alley to shift. It wasn't the most inconspicuous, but it was better than going into a populated area and having questions arise. Leaning against the wall, you breathed heavily as you looked at the picture of the man, absorbing his image into your head as your body started to burn. Gritting your teeth, you felt as your muscles, bones, and other insides shift and grow, creating an exact copy of him. The shift was oddly less painful than your last ones, but you couldn't focus on that now. Pulling your hood up, you stretched out before walking out the other end of the alley, quickly getting used to the height difference of this body.

Opening your wallet, you pulled out the ID of your previous form, folding it in half and snapping it before throwing it into the nearest dumpster. Digging into your pocket, you slid the new one in, staring and memorizing all of the information. He had a California license, had a height of 5'11" and weighed 194 pounds. His birth date was August 20th, 1995, and his address was Norm's. You would read the documents containing more information on the way to your destination, but now you needed to sell the look of someone traveling. Looks like you were going to blow a lot of cash.

--------------

Walking through the airport, you pulled your cheap carry on suitcase, which was filled with clothes and other useless items, as you continued forward. You made sure not to look at the cameras, knowing that it would draw attention to you. Sighing, you glanced around and rubbed your eye, your exhaustion getting the better of you. Your contact had assured you that you wouldn't have to deal with security, especially when you still had your suit on. As advanced as it was, it wouldn't make it past the metal detectors that nearly all were required to pass through.

Clutching the handle, you looked around for your contact, searching for her obnoxious bright red hair. Before you could notice someone running behind you, you felt an impact against your back. It nearly made you throw a punch, but you were able to see her head notched into your neck before you made the mistake. Smiling, you laughed and turned around, hugging her to keep the act going. Her honey-colored eyes stared into yours as the both of you pulled away, but kept close physical contact.

"It's been a while since we've seen each other," she smiled, wrapping an arm around your waist, "and I must add that's one delicious form you've taken."

You chuckled at the redhead, remembering how much you hated her personality, "Might I remind you that I am a minor."

"A minor that can shapeshift into a very scrumptious adult," she smirked, removing her hand from your waist, "but I know my boundaries."

She led you through a corridor away from the TSA infested area of the airport. The sound of your footsteps reverberated through the hall, making you scan the area cautiously. From what you memorized of the blueprints of the airport, you were heading back to the loading dock, and your plan did not include going there.

"Is there a bathroom somewhere I can go before we leave?" you asked, looking around. "The coffee is kicking in."

"Don't worry, assassin, they think you're taking a private jet in the opposite direction," she stated, continuing forward. "Your plan worked, but we needed to take a more subtle route to our flight."

You didn't like the change in your plans, but even you knew that she was telling the truth. The Mya you knew wouldn't sell a customer out, especially if the customer could snap her neck before she could realize it, but that didn't mean that this was Mya.

"How's your brother and sister?" you asked, remaining behind her.

"They're okay, Gram is still in college and Grace dropped out, she's focusing on the family business currently," she replied, turning around. "Why the sudden curiosity?"

You shrugged, glaring down at her, "Because Grace is dead, you were the one who asked me to kill her, remember?"

Before she could react, you had her pinned against the wall, using your weight to keep her there. One hand held her own down while the other had her neck in its grip, squeezing just enough to make sure she wouldn't try anything.

"Who's helping my father, telepath?" you questioned her, squeezing tighter.

She dropped her disguise, revealing herself to be Miss Martian and telling you everything you needed. Without hesitation, you released her and let her fall to the ground. You ran a hand through your hair, frustrated beyond belief.

"How did they find me?" you asked yourself pacing around, completely ignoring the incapacitated Martian beneath you. "This chase needs to end right now, I can't stand this frustrating goose chase."

Rubbing your face, you sighed and glanced at the Martian, examining her while she tried to recover her breath. She was a white Martian, which was rather odd all things considering. You couldn't remember if they were outcasts of Mars or something else, but you didn't care at the moment.

"Are they waiting for me at the exit?" you asked, watching as she nodded 'yes'. "Well, I better go greet them."

Continuing down the corridor, you tried to mentally prepare yourself for what was about to occur. There had to be more than one hero helping them out, there definitely had to be. You had to admit you were slightly surprised that heroes would help the Outlaws, but who were you to judge the heroes' choices. They're always going off about 'discovering your better self' and 'forgiveness is always an option if you mean it' or however it's phrased.

You didn't believe in that crap, and you knew that if someone was trying to kill you, you wouldn't be given those options. You were too dangerous to be kept alive, too dangerous to be around potential loved ones when all you had to hear was a few code words to make you lose control and kill those around you. You couldn't risk that, especially when Talia al-Ghul has a thing for your father's family, your adoptive grandfather if you can even call him that.

You resisted the urge to pull out your weapon as you got closer the exit, making it more difficult to keep your nerves on edge. As soon as you rounded the corner, the three Outlaws could be clearly seen blocking the doorway.

"Unpleasant to see you three again," you stated calmly, examining your surroundings. "Where are the other junior heroes?"

"Somewhere around," your father replied coolly. "Now, are you going to come with us consciously or unconsciously?"

"I was expecting to explain everything before you'd make that decision for me," you answered, remaining vigilant. "If I come with you, death will follow. The League of Assassins will see it as an opportunity to weaken its enemies, and I will not be able to stop them from doing so. So, if you value your lives and the ones around you, I suggest you let me disappear and let go whatever semblance of fatherly instinct you developed. I'm not yours, I wasn't raised by you, I wasn't taught to love or look up to you, we just share a genetic code."

You waited for a response, some sort of reaction from your father, but you couldn't identify anything from his body language. His red helmet obscured his face, which gave him the upper hand in this current situation.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, your frustration grew exponentially as his silence continued, "Are you going to just stand there, or actually respond to me?"

He stepped forward, making your hand instinctively go for your weapon, "The League can't touch you, (Y/N), we'll make sure of it."

"You can't be serious," you said, nearly laughing at his statement. "They are everywhere, no matter how secure it is. If they aren't affiliated with them, they are being blackmailed or have their families on a watch. They know how to break anyone, hell, they broke the great Batman many times."

"I am not Batman," he nearly growled, "and the League will have to go through me to get to you."

"This is exactly what they want," you sighed, knowing what would transpire in the future if you went with them.

Arsenal stepped forward, patting your father on the shoulder before looking in your direction, "Listen, kid, we'll make some precautions if that will ease your conscience. Even if it happens, we'll be able to deal with it."

Gritting your teeth, you punched the wall beside you, punching through to the next room. You retracted your hand and sighed, your anger contained for the moment. Thinking about your other options, you could escape them once again, but they would find you again and again. Dusting off your hand, you stomped toward the three adults and walked past them.

"Let's go before I change my mind," you huffed, hoping that you would not regret your decision in the future.

[twilightmademegay]

I wrote Bella*/Edythe fanfiction

And now all you nerds get to read it. Enjoy. Give me your thoughts.

*Bella does not physically appear in this, it’s mostly about Edythe’s gaywakening.

I had heard a boy, a few high schools back, refer to me as “Snow White”. It made me laugh at the time, how this human could compare me to a dainty, helpless princess when I was perfectly capable of crushing his windpipe in one hand, if I so desired. It didn’t offend me, though. Snow White was a far kinder nickname than Ice Princess. That was a title bestowed upon me far more often.

    Either one’s fitting, I thought to myself, smiling bitterly. It was clear to me now, as I lay buried in a snowbank, that the comparisons they drew were more accurate than I cared to admit. My skin was freezing, especially now that it had acclimated to the air around me. It was also pale, and even sparkled like snow in the sunlight.

    Sighing, I ran my hands through the powder around me. It was soft, fresh and actually sort of calming. With nothing for company but the stars and some scattered pines, it was easy to forget my reason for coming here.

Well, maybe not that easy. I couldn’t stop picturing her face. Her deep chocolate eyes that betrayed thoughts I longed to hear for myself. How they filled with terror when she saw the monster she’d made of me.

I growled quietly, particles of snow puffing up into the air as I quickly flipped onto my side. It wasn’t fair. I had lived for a century and this human girl, this insignificant child, would be the one to ruin me. There wasn’t even anything special about her.

That’s a lie, I reminded myself, and you know it. Her silent mind had intrigued me at first, yes, but any curiosity was swiftly blotted out by her cloyingly sweet scent, how I so desperately wanted to sink my teeth into her lovely neck and taste-

I sat up immediately, taking deep breaths of the fresh air. She’s not here now. It’s over. You’re fine. I was not fine. I could easily run back to Forks tonight, climb through her bedroom window and take what the monster inside me craved. Even the memory of her smell was enough to make my throat burn with desire, to make my fingers twitch in impatience. It would be so easy. But I knew I couldn’t go through with it. Just imagining the disappointment on Carlisle’s face, not to mention Esme…

I groaned. I needed to compose myself. Just look at you! Obsessing over Bella Swan like every mouth breathing boy at your school. Where’s your dignity, Edythe? It wasn’t that I couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about. She was beautiful, in her way. She had an… interesting face, all sharp contrasts. Delicate bone structure, but wide eyes, full lips. Her skin was almost as pale as mine, but her hair was a deep brown, even darker than her eyes. I chuckled softly. With that coloring, maybe she was Snow White. But what would that make me? The evil queen? I certainly couldn’t be prince charming. Mike Newton was already vying for that role, as irritating as his attempts were. When we first came to Forks his constant and often vulgar thoughts about me had been an annoyance, though nothing I wasn’t already used to. But when I recalled the way he thought about Bella, a dark feeling came over me. Jealousy, my mind supplied easily, but I dismissed the notion. I would never harbor anything short of resentment for Mike Newton, so what was there to be jealous of?

The sound of snow crunching in the distance brought me out of my musings. Tobias, no doubt, coming to find where I’d run off to. I cringed. He was nice enough, but his interest in me was obvious, even without the glimpses I had into his head. The feeling was not mutual, but I still felt bad every time I brushed off his advances.

“Ah, Edythe!” He exclaimed once he drew nearer. “There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Hello, Tobias.” I smiled faintly as he took a seat next to me.

What is she doing all the way out here?

“I don’t know,” I replied, shrugging. “Sometimes it’s nice to be alone with my thoughts.” I added the last part hoping he’d take the hint. He didn’t.

I always forget you can do that! “My sisters told me to leave you alone, but you seemed upset, so…” He trailed off, and I didn’t bother with a reply, choosing to look up at the stars instead. I should ask her what’s bothering her.

He took a breath. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I interjected before he could ask the question out loud. “It’s nothing.” He scoffed.

“Are you sure? Because it doesn’t sound like nothing. You even have this little crease between your eyebrows.” He reached out slowly, like he wanted to smooth it out, but I threw some snow at him before he could. He laughed, shaking his long blond hair out and hitting me in the face. I glowered at him. “Oh, come on, Edythe. Lighten up, will you? There must be something that’s bothering you.”

“Besides you, you mean?” I grumbled. He simply held up a finger, stroking his chin in thought.

Then his eyes lit up. “Oh! Is it boy trouble? Finally found someone special back home?”

I had never been more grateful that I’d lost all ability to blush. “No, Tobias. No one back home.” I tried to ignore the hopeful tone his thoughts took on after that.

Here goes nothing. “Don’t worry. I know you’ve only got eyes for me.” He grinned widely at me, confident and smug, but I simply stared back at him, unimpressed. He deflated a little, averting his gaze.

“In all seriousness, Edythe…” He sighed, then looked back at me. You know how I feel about you. Just give me a chance. Please.

This was why he always made me feel guilty. Beneath all the bravado, he was earnest. A good man. But not one I could ever want.

“I’m sorry, Tobias.” His eyes saddened. “Look, you surely must know that you’re a wonderful person, and incredibly handsome, too. You’ll find somebody that will love you, I’m sure of it. It just won’t be me.”

He smiled ruefully. You know I had to try. No hard feelings, honest.

“If it makes you feel any better,” I added, “It’s not just you. I’ve never felt that way about any man.”

Huh. His mind suddenly filled with thoughts of Rosalie and Eleanor. “Maybe you should stop trying to find a man, then.”

I furrowed my brow at him in confusion, looking into his mind to see why he put a slight emphasis on man, but he shook his head at me and smirked. Good night, Edythe, he thought, before singing some pop song loudly in his head to drown out his thoughts as he ran away.

I flopped back down into the snow once he was out of sight. Well, that was weird. What did he mean by “stop trying to find a man”? Maybe he was telling me to resign myself to a life of loneliness? As if I hadn’t already come to that conclusion long ago. And why would he be thinking of Rose and El? What did they have to do with my inability to find-

“Oh!” I gasped, sitting bolt upright. He must have assumed… My sisters had always preferred women, and they found happiness in each other. Did he think that I? No. No, that was preposterous. I didn’t have any aversion to it as a concept, even I wasn’t that old fashioned. The love between Rosalie and Eleanor had always seemed so natural to me, so right, that I could never understand why some people resented it. But for me? I was over a hundred years old, wouldn’t I have figured that part of myself out by now? No, Tobias was wrong. I just hadn’t found anyone that I liked, that was all.

    I slowly lowered myself back down. It was only natural that Tobias had come to that conclusion. I had, after all, just told him that I had never been interested in a man. But that wasn’t just to spare his feelings, even if that was my intention in saying it. I thought back on all of the men I had met over my many years, and not one of them jumped out at me as a romantic interest. I couldn’t even recall a passing attraction.

    My thoughts then turned to Tobias. He was objectively gorgeous, perfect, like all of those who shared our condition. I imagined he was also quite handsome in life. Tall, broad shouldered, a kind face. If any man were fit to be my mate, it was Tobias. And yet, he stirred nothing within me. But his sister Irina, on the other hand…

    I shook myself. Stop. What are you thinking? Clearly, my mind only went down this path because Tobias had planted the idea in my head. I shouldn’t have even entertained the possibility. Of course, Irina was beautiful. It was just as objective a fact for her as it was for Tobias. But did I give Tobias a second look? Did I look over his body like my eyes roamed across the sharp lines of Irina’s collarbones, the dip of her spine. Did my gaze ever rest a moment too long on his mouth?

    This time, I stood up. I began to pace back and forth, so quickly that I ran ruts into the snowdrift. I had no romantic feelings for Irina. I did not feel devotion for her like Carlisle felt for Esme, I did not desire to protect her like Jasper did with Alice. I did not look at her with the same soft eyes that Eleanor had for Rosalie. I was not in love with her, of that that much I was certain. But lust? Simple attraction?

    I abruptly stopped moving. “Oh, my God.” I breathed. “I’m gay.”

    Before I registered what I was doing, I was already running south. I thought about the pretty girls who would approach me every time we moved to a new school. How pleased I was that they wanted to be my friend. I realized now that it was much more than that. I remembered the time I found a copy of Le Fanu’s Carmilla at the library and read it three times a night, every night for a month, and how I bought my own copy that was now heavily marked up. It was the only piece of vampire fiction I had ever enjoyed. Perhaps I had seen myself in it?

    I stopped about fifty miles north of Seattle and leaned against a tree. It occurred to me that I was on my way back home, most likely to inform my family of my revelation. They were the people I cherished most in this existence, and I desperately wanted to share my discovery with them. I especially wanted to talk to Rose and El, the two people in the world that would understand this best.

    But oh, I had almost forgotten why I wasn’t at home in the first place. Bella Swan. I ground my teeth in frustration. Was one girl really going to keep me from my family? At a time like this? No. I was a lot of things, yes, but not a coward. I would not allow her to keep me from where I belonged.

    So what if she smelled delicious? I had plenty of experience keeping my thirst under control. So long as I avoided her like the plague she was, I wouldn’t be tantalized by the perfume of her blood, the inviting rosiness of her cheeks, the aggravating silence of her thoughts… I could make it through another year or two before we moved on, and she could continue with her mundane human life. Maybe she’d even marry that loathsome Mike Newton.

    There it was again. That pang of jealousy.

    But suddenly, I understood it.

    “Oh, shit.” No, I could not even consider that right now. It could only be a passing attraction, like Irina. Perhaps the mystery of her mind and her mouthwatering scent had mixed together and caused some sort of confusion with my feelings. I could not afford to like Bella Swan. And neither, quite frankly, could she afford any further attention from me.

    In any case, it was a problem for later. Right now, I needed to go home.

    It wasn’t long before I reached the house. I slowed to a stop as I got to the end of our long driveway and found Alice waiting for me on our front steps. She sprung to her feet as I approached, smiling and throwing her arms around me.

    I am so proud of you. I love you so much. She pulled away, but still held me by my shoulders. And I missed you. Are you going to stay this time?

    “I think so, Alice. I hope I can, at least.”

    Wonderful! She grinned, exuberant. Now, don’t let me keep you. You have some news to deliver.

    “You didn’t already tell them?” I asked.

    “Of course not,” she laughed. “You only get to come out to them once. I could never take that from you.”

    I would have had tears in my eyes, were I still able to cry. I pulled her into another crushing hug. “Thank you.”

    She giggled, pushing me towards the door. Go on!

    I decided to start with my father. He was my creator, in a sense, so it felt right to tell him first. I knocked gently on his office door.

    “Come in.” Carlisle looked up from his desk as I entered. “Oh, Edythe! Welcome home.”

    His thoughts were a mixture of relief to see me back safe and worry for the reasons I had left in the first place. He had already made up his mind to move the family if need be, which made me wince. I hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

    “It’s good to be home. Listen, Dad, I’m here because there’s something I need to tell you.”

    He looked closer at my eyes and I saw a flash of relief in his mind when he realized they were not the brilliant crimson he had feared. He had thought, briefly, that I’d given in and murdered the girl. I couldn’t say I blamed him, though his ready forgiveness for my imagined sin almost shamed me more than his anger would have. It strengthened my resolve to do nothing that he needed to forgive.

    “No, it’s not-” I paused, taking a deep breath I didn’t really need. “Dad, I’m a lesbian.”

    Shock flashed across his face, but as I listened to what he was thinking, I realized that he wasn’t surprised for the reasons I expected.

    “You already knew?” My voice was shriller than I intended, so I cleared my throat before trying again. “All this time, you knew?”

    You didn’t know? He attempted to school his expression, but couldn’t control the quirk in the corner of his mouth.

    “I just discovered it when I was up in Alaska,” I admitted sheepishly.

    I thought she would have figured it out by now. Maybe Rosalie was right, maybe she is a “clueless lesbian”.

    I was about to ask him if everybody in our family knew but me, but the place his thoughts trailed off to gave me a different question to ask.

    “Father,” I began calmly, trying to control my voice. “Please tell me you did not turn Rosalie into a vampire because you thought I was lonely and needed a girlfriend.”

    Carlisle lost his humor quickly. “That was a long time ago, Edythe. Edythe? Where are you going?”

    I was already at the bottom of the stairs. “I’m going back to Alaska to bury myself in the snow forever. Goodbye, Carlisle. Great talk!”

[hamilkilo]

If Apples Were Pears and Peaches Were Plums, I’d Love You Just the Same

Prompt: I know there’s been a lot of fat shaming and stuff of the like but people fail to realize that people also get shamed for being too flat (ex. No butt, no chest). I fall into that category, so can I please get a poly!hamilsquad x reader where the reader is feeling a little insecure about being so small?

Pairing: Poly!Hamilsquad x Reader

TW: body image issues, spicy themes(no sex, still spicy), fluff!!!

A/N: I know that the prompt here implies she/her pronouns, but the reality of body image is that guys are largely unrepresented when it comes to body acceptance. I also feel like this could apply to any pronouns, because the take away is still the same. I really hope y’all like this! As always, if you want me to tag something, please let me know! I want you to feel safe while reading my work! I love y’all! Happy reading!

Word Count: 1758

Body image. Always such a controversial topic. It’s never about the perfect body. It’s always about too fat, too thin, too skinny, too big, to small, too average. You can’t recall a single person you’ve ever met that ever loved themself and the way they looked one hundred percent.

Growing up, you had always been on the rather small side. Your grandmother had called you “nothing but skin and bones” for a majority of your childhood. Your friend’s mom once commented that “a gust of wind might blow you away.” You tried not to let it get to you, but more often than not, it did.

Recently, there had been an uproar of body positivity, a campaign encouraging women to love their bodies, any and every type. You loved the idea of it, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t apply it to yourself. Maybe it was because you’d found it so hard to admit it to yourself. After all, men weren’t supposed to feel insecure about their own bodies.

One night, you had been cuddling on the couch with Herc when he ran his thumb over your rubs. He had been softly caressing your side, but when you felt his thumb skirt over the outline of your bones, you tensed and bit your lip. All of your insecurities came to surface. You found yourself pulled away from his embrace.

“You okay, babe?” He asked you with soft eyes, and you shrugged. You tried to play it off. Real men don’t admit their insecurities and shortcomings.

“Yeah, just warm. You’re like a furnace, Herc,” you chuckled, and he grinned bashfully.

“I know… Maybe less clothes would help?” He suggested, and you blushed, your face feeling hot.

“Haha, smooth.”

He rolled his eyes at you, grabbing you and pulling you on top of him as he fell backwards onto the couch. “Thanks, I try to be…”

You placed your hands on his chest to hold yourself up. You felt heated in this situation, your securities being the only things that held you back from ripping his clothes off.

You felt him trace his fingers over the curve of your lower lip, and you met his curious eyes. “What’s running through that beautiful brain of yours, baby?”

You looked down, unsure of admitting it to him, but he brought your chin up and met your gaze.

“You can tell me anything, Y/N.” You bit your lip again.

“I…” How do you say that you hate your body? That a toad couldn’t compare to Adonis? “Herc? Do you ever… Like, have you ever felt self conscious?”

He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Do you mean about my personality, my appearance, my sense of fashion-”

“Appearance,” you mumbled, and you felt his hands gently grip your hips.

“Sometimes, yeah,” he admitted, his thumb skimming beneath the fabric of your shirt. “I mean, I’m a big boy, I know that… I feel like people sometimes find me intimidating… I was always picked first in P.E., but I never wanted to play basketball or be a star on the football team… I just wanted to design clothes… For a long time, my parents found great difficulty in admitting that to themselves, and I did too. Sometimes, it’s hard for people to see a knife that’s useful for anything other than butchering… but it can be elegant, too, ya know? You can use it to cut open a package, cut out a design… it’s useful for more than what it’s meant to do. My hands, although they’re huge and perfect for ball handling, are also gentle enough for a soft caress, and they’re nimble enough for fine detail… Why do you ask?”

His words had moved you, and for a moment, you were lost for words. Your beautiful, perfect Herc, often felt self conscious, it seemed. “I… I sometimes feel like I don’t belong here. Like, I’m not attractive enough to deserve you guys. I’m small, flat, and lanky…”

You went to bury your face in your hands, but he caught your wrists, and then held your hands in his. “Y/N,” he breathed. “You’re nothing but perfect to us, so please don’t ever think otherwise.”

He moved so effortlessly and with such grace as he switched positions, holding you beneath him. His fingers softly traced over the silhouette of your frame. “I love the way your body moves when you reach up for the spice basket from the kitchen shelves…” He pressed a kiss to the hollow of your neck. “I love the way your chest heaves beneath me... “ He chuckled when he felt it. “Just like that.” He slid his right hand under your shirt. “I love the way goosebumps trace down your spine when I do that thing with my tongue you like so much…” You let your head fall back against the couch as he sucked on the sweet spot in your neck. “I love how you look beneath me…” He paused, and you looked up at him. He had pulled back enough for you to make eye contact, and he leaned forward. His lips just a breath away from yours. “But most importantly, I love you. I love you for who you are. You could look any way in the world, and I would love you regardless.”

He pressed his lips to yours then, in a sweet, loving kiss that melted away every dark thought in your mind. When you pulled away, he smiled at you, but a voice behind you interrupted.

“Are we talking about insecurities?” You quickly whipped around to see Alex perched on the arm of the couch, sipping his coffee. How long had he been there?

“Yeah…?” You answered as Herc helped you sit up.

“I overheard while I was in the kitchen refilling my coffee.” He stood and sat the half empty mug down. In Alex time, he hadn’t been there long. Otherwise, the mug would’ve been empty. “Y/N, I know what it is to be small.”

You felt your cheeks burn at the word you hated to much. It sounded like a curse word, the way he said it.

“I mean, I’m hardly 5’6” on a good day,” he added bitterly. “But, when I look at you, I do not think small… I think beautiful, gorgeous, crafted by God, and most importantly and miraculously, mine. I know I cannot erase away your insecurities with words of love, because, believe me, I’ve tried that on my own… But I want you to know that it’s okay to be insecure… Just know that others don’t see you that way. You don’t have to love every aspect of you to love yourself. There’s no pressure on you to ever look perfect. Besides, I find that perfect is pretty subjective to the eye of the beholder, and perhaps I’m biased, but you, my sweet, are the walking definition-” you cut his ramblings off with a kiss, almost knocking him back. You turned him so that his back was to the couch, and you pushed him down, straddling him, and Herc laughed from beside you two.

Things had started to progress past innocent kissing when John and Laf got back from grocery shopping and found you three in a heated make out session.

“Qu’est-ce c’est?” Laf asked as he sat his armful of groceries on the table beside the front door. John copied him, and they both watched in amusement.

“Y/N was feeling self conscious…” Alex admitted, and you swatted his arm. Great, now everyone knew. You didn’t want it to be a big deal.

John frowned, moving towards you. “Well, we can’t have that, now can we?”

“Oh no, Jack, we can’t,” Laf agreed, and they both advanced with predatory grins. Alex pulled away from you, offering no protection, as John scooped you up into his arms. You wrapped your legs around his hips to steady yourself, and he ran his nails down your back tauntingly. You felt Laf behind you, and you leaned back against his chest.

“Tell me, sweetheart, what’s got you down?” John drawled slowly. You tightenned your grip on his shoulders when you felt his hand squeeze your ass.

“I… I’m munchkin height and flat as a board,” you admitted with chagrin, and you looked away in shame. Tears burned your eyes. You’d never said that thought out loud. Not that way.

John growled and jerked your pelvis closer to his. “Well then, in that case, I’m really into munchkins.”

You couldn’t help it, a laugh bubbled from your chest. You’d never expected that reaction. “I’m gonna have to kinkshame ya for that one, Johnny.”

He gave you a cheeky grin. “Kinkshame all ya want, darlin’, that won’t stop me from lovin’ you.” He pressed a kiss to your neck, and you let your head fall back to Laf’s shoulder, and he began to kiss the other side.

“You… ‘appen to be… the perfect size for me to ‘old at night, mon cher,” Laf purred against you, and you bit back a moan.

“And you’re just big enough for all of us to love,” John murmured, and although the sentence was fairly innocent, the way he said it made it sound lewd… and you loved it.

“I love the way your back arches when I kiss this spot here,” John groaned as he pressed his lips to the spot where your shoulder met your neck, and you moaned, pressing back against Laf even harder.

“And I, mon ange, love the way your hips move when I run my hands down your torso,” Laf chuckled as he did exactly what he described, and your body corresponded.

“What… What else do you love about me?” You gasped as they had their way with you. You watched as John glanced devilishly at where you knew your other two boyfriends were.

“I dunno, guys… Should we show him?”

You knew the answer when you felt fingers tug at the hem of your pants.

[ao3bronte]

Smutember: Multiple Partners

Masquerade on AO3

9: Multiple Partners

They're three days into their school district's spring break when it happens.

Le Papillon, for all his ups and downs, could certainly deliver when he wanted to. Marinette almost wondered if he created silly and easily defeatable akuma from time to time just to lull them into a false sense of security, because this?

This one was a doozy.

He's never been known for having more than one akuma on the go but Le Papillon has certainly outdone himself this time. On top of Le Tireur and last week's La Pharmacienne, the corrupt Miraculous wielder has somehow managed to keep those two going whilst simultaneously akumatizing a pair of twins at once.

"We are Gemini!" They shriek in tandem, mirroring each other's incantation as they made about sixteen copies of themselves. Marinette exchanges a glance with Chat and wishes she had the power to do the same.

"How on earth are we going to manage this one?” she asks, fiddling with the yoyo in her hands, “Two against thirty plus…not the best odds.”

“We’ll do as we’ve always done M’Lady,” he replies, taking one of her hands in his and offering a squeeze, “Achieve the impossible.”

Well, when he puts it like that…

Marinette grins and returns the squeeze, setting her sights back on the growing crowd of akumatised copies. With yoyo and baton in hand, the two of them jump in guns a-blazing and knock out a fair few of them before getting overwhelmed.

“How many do you think there are?” she pants, taking one down with a swift kick to the solar plexus.

“Too many,” he grunts back, spinning his baton and striking two copies at once, “We’ve got to come up with a better plan.”

“Sounds good to me,” she replies, ducking beneath his basic sweep so she could wrap a hand around his waist. She flings her yoyo out towards the nearest balcony and wrenches them upwards, getting them out of harms way for the moment.

“What’s Plan B then?” he says, dropping out of her grasp. They watch as the twin in pink presses the butts of her palms together and aims a burst of energy at the other, effectively replicating the opposite twin. The twin in blue repeats the motion and Marinette suddenly has an idea.

“They can replicate each other but not themselves,” she muses, tapping her chin in thought, “If one of us can get close enough to them, maybe we can intercept the blast and—”

“I love this plan!” Chat claps his hands together, eyes alight, “I have always wanted a clone.”

Marinette raises a brow, “Is that so?”

“Mmhmm,” he replies, “Think of all the things you can get done with a clone! I mean, the clone could go to work and school and then I could be Chat Noir all the time!”

“I can think of other things I’d rather do…” Marinette says before she can stop herself. Chat stares at her agog for a moment before she brushes him off and points back down at the mass of akuma down below, “Come on, let’s get moving.”

“M’Lady,” he breathes, still looking at her as if she holds all the world’s secrets. Marinette just rolls her eyes and pushes him closer to the edge.

“Whoever gets close first takes the hit. It shouldn’t be to difficult if we make enough of a fuss. Let’s go!”

The two of them quickly go careening off the building and into the pile of vicious twins with a bone to pick, doing their best to fight their way over to the original set. Their pace is painstaking slow to be sure, but with the two of them working together as well as they do, their tandem attacks seem to eventually hit the spot. She’s volleying a series of punches when she sees an opening and juts her chin at Chat, signalling his chance.

“Go!” she cries, and Chat doesn’t need to be told twice. He dives into the line of fire and suddenly…

…there are three Chats.

Marinette pauses and thankfully the rest of the clones do the same, although not for the same reasons. While the twins scream in anguish at being played by their own fiddle, Marinette is trying not to imagine the possibilities of having two Chats under her influence, let alone three of them.

They make quick work of the twins after that, the three seemingly indomitable pack of Chat Noirs obliterating the rest of the clones so that Marinette can focus on the twins themselves. She backs them up in a corner and manages to get one of their toques off their heads, ripping the hat in two and releasing the butterfly within. She captures and purifies the creature before setting her sights on the other, all too aware of her Miraculous beeping incessantly in her ear.

“M'Lady.”

She spins and takes in the sight of them.

One is leaning against the railing of the staircase, smiling impishly at her. The other idly spins his baton in his hand before holstering it, winking and licking his lips. The third bites his tongue and eyes her top to bottom, his gaze exposing every filthy thing running through his mind.

Putain de ta race.

“Chat?” Marinette’s felt arousal before but never quite as sudden and intense as this, “I have to recharge before I can capture the other akuma.”

“Of course M’Lady,” all three of them respond in chorus, prowling towards her, “Shall we save this one for later?”

Marinette gulps as she turns her attention back to the remaining akuma, throwing her yoyo and effectively binding it within the unbreakable string. Ignoring the unmistakable pounding between her thighs, she looks down at the purified twin holding his head and places her hand on his shoulder, “Are you all right?”

The man groans, “What happened?”

“You were akumatised,” she replies simply, desperately trying not to pay attention the three Chats standing behind her, “Your sister is still akumatised but I can’t purify her until I can recharge my power.”

The twin nods and stumbles upright, “What can I do?”

“I’ll stay here and keep them company,” one of the Chats volunteers, smiling easily at Marinette and the male twin, “I’m sure Ladybug won’t keep us waiting too long.”

Marinette glances at the two Chats standing behind her and then back at the twin and his struggling sister, “Are you sure?”

“We’ll ménage just fine M’Lady. Off you go.”

Marinette gulps.

"I'll be back as soon as I'm finished," she assures the man, watching as he tries to shake away the drowsiness. She gives the Chat clone a hard look for the pun before leaping onto the nearest rooftop balcony that’s hidden from sight, confident that the two remaining Chats would be following close behind.

She stops and leans against the balcony's railing and tries to ignore the giant lounging cushion littering the deck and its possibilities, “Which one of you is the real one?”

"Me,” the one on the left responds, running his fingers through his hair. The other sneaks in behind her and begins suckling on the exposed skin of her neck, leaving tiny marks to pepper her skin, “What do you say Ladybug? Just you and me and Chat, up here on the rooftops. Think of all the possibilities.”

“Yes,” she breathes hoarsely, throwing her head back, “Close your eyes so I can detransform.”

“As you wish,” the two of them say at once and Marinette’s never released her form so quickly in her life, thankful that she’s remembered her mask this time. She tosses her purse to the side, stuffed to the brim with cookies baked earlier this afternoon, and slips the mask over her ponytails. She lets him know she’s covered before affording him the same courtesy and when she opens her eyes, the real Chat has transformed back to his civilian self while the clone remains in his Miraculous form, standing side by side.

“Fuck me.” Yeesh.

Chat turns to his doppelganger and grins, “Shall we?”

They advance on her, the clone making quick work of her jeans while the real one captures her lips and kisses her, scraping his nails against her spine. She squirms as the clone pushes her jeans down her thighs and guides her feet out of the fabric pooling beneath her, freeing them completely.

“What do you think M’Lady?” Chat purrs against her skin, “Should he fuck you while I kiss you senseless? The decision is yours.”

Marinette can’t help the way her hands make their way to her core, skimming against the cotton and lace, “I want you two to kiss.”

The real Chat’s eyes widen behind the toy mask, his mouth parting to make the perfect O. He looks down at his clone and makes eye contact briefly before staring back at Marinette, “What?”

Marinette feels emboldened by his surprise, happily gaining the upper hand, “Kiss each other. I want to watch.”

Chat considers for a moment, his expression uncertain.

“Please?”

That word seems to break his resolve, shaking him out of his reverie. His clone gets back to his feet and Chat closes the gap between them, taking a deep breath before pressing his lips to his. Marinette collapses down onto the mattress sized cushion and thanks every deity in the sky for giving her this moment to fuel her dreams for the next twenty years. She slips her fingers beneath the waistband of her panties and presses her fingers against her clit, entirely unsurprised to find herself sopping wet.

She moans and the sound seems to spur them, egging on their performance further, the two boys pressing ever closer. Their kiss gains an aggressive edge, all teeth and claws and hard angles as they begin to devour each other, their fingers and tongues waging war. The real Chat reaches down and grinds against his counterpart, relishing in the sweet friction against their thighs.

“Chat!”

Marinette's orgasm comes out of nowhere and she falls back against the cushion, her body and legs contorted in ecstasy. The Chats break apart to watch her and the real Chat wastes no time in stripping his clothes off as she quivers around her fingers, milking the last waves of her orgasm. He comes up behind her then just as the clone crawls between her legs, their lips wet and swollen and eager to please.

Beckoning her to her knees, the clone strips her of her top and panties as the real Chat caresses the planes of her abdomen from behind her, latching onto the hollow behind her jaw. He sucks and nibbles her to a frenzy as she tries to get her bearings, thighs still wobbly from what would have to go down as the fastest orgasm in her personal history. The Chat in front of her unclips her bra and immediately goes to town on her chest, pinching and lapping and tugging ever so gently with his teeth, watching her face all the while.

The Chat behind her grips her hips and tugs her hair, enticing her body to arch as much as possible, her head and ass jutting backwards in a perfect curve. She grits her teeth in anticipation as he rubs his cock against her folds, seeking entrance and when he slowly languidly finally sinks into her it feels incredible.

“Yes…” she hisses as he pulls out, teasing her with his tip before thrusting hard, ramming her forward into Chat’s waiting mouth. He skims her stomach and sides with his fingernails as he continues to tease her nipples and reaches down between her legs, tracing her lips and scraping her thighs. Every thrust drives another moan through her lips, his rhythm eager and consistent, decadently unrestrained.

The Chat in front of her grazes her clit and the pressure pulls her body taut, overwhelming her senses. Keeping his hand between her thighs, he uses the other to pull her hair back, capturing her lips in a sloppy embrace. The one behind captures her breasts with his palms and kneads them, clipping her nipples between the pads of his fingers with every thrust and god, it fells like she’s being consumed, like she can’t tell where one Chat ends and where the other begins, sandwiched between them in some hedonistic ritual that’s driving her crazy and oh, oh, oh…!

He swallows her screams with his mouth and she tampers his screams with her shoulder and at least two of the three of them reach a crescendo of pleasure together, glorious and with abandon, and she feels him come inside of her and she feels him tweak her clit and fuck, fuck! she’s coming again and it’s even more powerful than before, knocking her right out of her body and into some celestial headspace because fuck, it feels like she’s gone and died in the best way possible, floating and quaking and ah!

Some minutes later the three of them attempt to come to, sprawled and sated on the cushion like some Renaissance painting, self indulgent and utterly debauched. It’s only when a tiny voice makes itself known somewhere to their left that Marinette tries to sit up and take it all in.

“Ladybug, if uh…if you’re about done now, I’m ready to transform!”

Marinette nods and blinks owlishly, looking back down at the two Chats still slouched against the cushion, smirking in unison.

Akuma or no, this was by far the best day of her life.