#black and green acid wash

[stonedpiece]

yippeee my new underwear arrived!! they look so good on my thighs

[help-me-im-in-the-fandom]

Dc x Dp

Soulmate and Wing Au Prompt

Everyone has a Soulmate Mark, when you are born it is in a bright color outline, just the simple shape.

Then, when you meet your Soulmate it becomes colored in, becoming a beautiful picture of something that shows you and your soulmates love for each other.

Jason Todd is born with folded wings across his back in acidic green, and when he becomes Robin he knows the wings symbolize that part of him, showing that he had always been meant to fly.

Then when Jason is fifteen, his back goes ice cold in the middle of the day, like someone dumped a bucket of water across him. His outline is no longer vibrant green of life and energy, but the soulless black of a dead soulmate.

It doesn’t take to long for him to go off the deep end and start taking risks as Robin, and even as Bruce yells at him for hurting someone to much and one guy getting in accident, Well when Jason learns about his mother, his true mother.

Well Jason Todd welcomes that blinking countdown inside the warehouse Joker has left him in.

Then he wakes up and all he can see and feel is green rage and pain.

It takes him a long time to notice the changes to his soulmate mark, but when he does it makes his pain all the more real.

Where had once been an outline when he died, was now dull color across his skin, not quite black and white, but washed out color.

Black wings, with red-orange shoulders, the wings of Red shouldered Blackbird.

Jason tries to ignore it, but the knowledge that he had met his Soulmate in Heaven or Hell, despite not being able to remember it, soothes his broken heart just a little bit.

Meanwhile, Danny Phantom searches desperately for his missing Soulmate, across his back large white and green wings beating desperately.

This started because I wanted to Draw Dead On Main with wings, and then, it kind of drew me in to creating a tiny story for it, so here you go, anyone want to write a fic for me??

[dontshootmespence]

IT'S GONNA BE MY YEAR

“It’s gonna be my year.”

The mantra echoed in Eddie’s head, repeating itself with ever-increasing volume to the point where he didn’t even hear the obnoxious clang of the bell that signaled the end of class. 

Shaking out the monotony, he got up from his desk and slowly ambled toward his locker. Going to class was a bore, but if this was what he had to do to get out of this hellhole he was going to make it happen. The hallways were abuzz with students talking about anything and everything. Nothing that actually mattered though. He caught snippets of conversations about weekend plans, the upcoming game, marching band, and some of his D&D friends talking about their most recent epic campaign. 

Once his friends passed him, he tuned out the rest of the student body. Either none of them mattered to him, they pissed him off, or they were unattainable to him. 

Before he could even register it, some asshole in a green and white letterman jacket jammed him in the shoulder, causing his books to fall to the floor. He bent down, grimacing all the while. He was used to it by now.

“Hey, douchebag!��� Eddie heard someone scream from behind him. “Does that make you feel cool, Jason?��

Eddie turned his head around to see Y/N yelling at the head of the basketball team. She wasn’t in the “nerd group” so to speak, but she wasn’t exactly popular either. Thing was, she didn’t care. He loved that about her. 

Jason slinked away without saying anything, which made a smile curl at the edge of Eddie’s lips. “Go ahead, walk away like a little bitch!”

When she bent down to help him, he met her gaze and smiled. “Thanks for that. I always love watching you call out the assholes in this place.” He hadn’t really meant for that last part to come out. Eddie the Banished wasn’t necessarily hurting for female attention, but he knew the hierarchy in this place. Who was on his level and who wasn’t. Y/N definitely wasn’t. She was ridiculously smart and effortlessly cool without fitting in with any one group. 

“Jason’s a douche. Don’t pay any attention to him.”

“I try not to,” he laughed, a warmth spreading through him when she laughed too. She handed him his math book. He hated that thing. “I don’t know if I even want this back.”

“Not your best subject?” She asked. 

He stumbled over his words as he took her in. She was wearing acid wash, a checkered red and black sweater-shirt thing that dipped just a little too low, and a little silver chain necklace that highlighted her chest. “Definitely not.” It was rare that he felt ashamed, but in her presence, admitting he could barely pass remedial math, he did. “Thanks for your help.”

“No problem,” she said softly. When he began to walk away, she called for him. “Eddie, I could help you with math if you want.” Her body swayed, a soft smile highlighting her beautiful face. 

“You sure? You’re okay being seen with Eddie “The Freak” Munson?”

She jogged up to his side and they began walking toward the west hall. “People are assholes. I don’t think you’re a freak. I’d be happy to help. We’d just have to find a place to study because my parents don’t allow anyone over.”

“I mean, I live in a trailer with my uncle. Would your parents let you come over?”

She snickered. “No, but I also don’t really tell them anything. I just go where I want and they can’t really get mad because I get good grades and they have appearances they need to maintain. Grounding their only daughter doesn’t look good. Tonight?”

“Definitely, you know where the trailer park is?” He hated saying that out loud to her. 

“Yup. How about 8?”

“Sound good.”

                                                               -----

Later that night, Eddie tried desperately to get the guy stink and reefer out of the air. He knew this wasn’t a date or anything, but he still felt the need to impress her. Despite hearing her car roll up to the trailer park, he practically jumped out of his skin when she knocked on the trailer door.

The breath was knocked out of him when he opened the door. She’d changed since class let out, wearing a black skirt, red crop top, and little red heels. “Ready to get started?” She asked.

For nearly an hour and a half, she did her best to break down the mathematical concepts he was supposed to understand. She was more than patient and didn’t say a thing about the fact that his room was a complete mess and the whole trailer still smelled of dope. “Can we take a break?” He asked, rubbing his temple. “I’m starting to get it, but my head is killing me.”

Smiling, Y/N stood up and stretched, even more of her silken skin peeking out from under her shirt. “Sure, what do you usually do to relax?”

Laughing, he replied, “What I normally do is probably not something you’d be into. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

Her gaze softened in a way that made him warm all over. “I’m not as innocent as you think, Eddie Munson.”

Scrambling off his bed, he went to his drawer and pulled out a pre-rolled joint from earlier - one he’d imagined lighting up after she left. “You ever smoked one of these before?”

“A joint,” she said, reaching across to take the joint and the lighter from his hands, “Yes, I have.” As the end of the cigarette caught flame, she inhaled deeply, and little wisps of smoke danced around her lips. She held her breath, allowing the smoke to fill her lungs. “Not my first time.”

“Who would’ve thought,” Eddie replied with a smile. When she offered the joint to him, he took in between took fingers and slipped it into his mouth, relaxing a bit as he jumped off the bed and grabbed her a snack from the cabinet above their heads. “So, when did you start smoking?”

She hesitated for a moment, taking her turn with the joint before answering. “A couple years ago. As an only child from a well-to-do family, I apparently need to have the weight of the world on my shoulders. My dad wants me to become a doctor, so I study my ass off and they continue to acknowledge that I’m his pride and joy. It’s a lot to handle. And lately, I’ve decided not to apply to college as a pre-med major. I want to follow my own dreams, not his, you know?””

Nodding, he took the joint from her and took a puff. “What do you want to do with your life?” He asked genuinely. 

“I’ve always loved the idea of the ocean even though I’ve never even seen one. I want to study marine biology and learn about sea creatures and stuff.” He saw a weight lift from her shoulders - like she could finally be herself around someone. 

“That’s fucking awesome,” he replied, handing the joint back to her. “Why do your parents not want you to do that? You’d be a brainy scientist.”

“Because apparently nothing is respectable besides being a doctor or a lawyer.”

She spoke with such disdain that he felt bad for ever assuming that her life was an easy one just because she came from better circumstances than him. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “You’ll make an amazing marine biologist, and you’ll do it on your terms. Fuck everyone else’s expectations.”

Silence hung heavily like the smoke in the air. When she went to hand the joint back to him, he held up his hand. “Take another one. I think you might need it more right now.”

Her smile shined in the smoke-infused trailer. Spinning around, her arms outstretched, she pulled the cigarette to her lips and took a small hit before stopping herself abruptly. “Thanks, Eddie. I really needed this.”

“It’s the least I can do for the math help.”

She took another big puff of the joint and crossed the space between them, pausing in front of him. His eyes fell to her lips and the next thing he knew they were on him, the smoke from her mouth traveling to his own. Slowly, she slipped her tongue across his before pulling away.

Eddie stood almost frozen in place, still feeling the heat of her lips on his. “Y-you didn’t just do that because you’re in a like, vulnerable place right?”

She shook her head, reaching for the hem of her shirt and slipping it off to reveal that she wasn’t wearing a bra. 

“I...” Eddie’s mouth went dry.

As she stepped toward him, she reached out to grasp his hand. His fingertips were rough and semi-cracked from his near-constant guitar playing, but she didn’t flinch, placing his hand on her breast. 

Without hesitation, Eddie pulled her toward him and molded his other hand to her skin, pliant and warm. Roaming her body, he breathed. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” 

She bit her lip and cradled her head in the crook of his neck, filling herself with the scent of him - earthy wisps of dried flowers and a crackling fire with just a hint of something that was all his own. He drowned in the feeling of her warmth against him, a heavy breath escaping his mouth as she kissed the spot just below his ear.

“Want you,” she said softly, running her hands under his belt.

Eddie grasped a swath of her hair and pulled her mouth to his, their previous hesitancy and intent giving way to a frenetic intensity that neither had felt in quite some time. Clothing fell to the floor as they stumbled over the various items left there, landing with a thud against the wall right next to his guitar.

“Will you play for me someday?” Y/N asked, stepping out of her skirt. 

Eddie nodded, moaning when she bit his lower lip and ripped his belt from its loops. “Absolutely.” His light-hearted smile fell as she dropped to her knees before him.

Looping her fingers under his jeans and boxers, she replied. “I’ll hold you to it.” His cock sprang free, and she smiled against him, placing kisses from the base of his shaft to the tip of his cock.

He let out a shaky breath when she added her tongue to the mix, nearly losing his balance as his knees gave way slightly. She laughed against the curls at the base of his cock and placed her hands against the wall on either side of him. “I’ve got you,” she said melodically. 

When he looked down, he nearly lost it, her eyes glossed over in ecstasy, lips plump and dewy with spit. “Fuck,” he replied, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Need...” As she wrapped her lips around him, all thought was cut off and the rest of what he was going to say got caught in his throat.

Raw need permeated every nerve, his body on fire at the feel of her mouth, warm, wet, and swirling around his shaft. Slipping his hands into her hair, he guided her movements, showing her what he liked without saying a word. They fell into a rhythm of groans and thrusts, his cock randomly hitting the back of her throat, the feeling shooting straight to her pussy. When she moaned around him, he nearly came, pulling her off him just in time. “Wait,” he said, eyes hooded with need, “have to be inside you.”

Pulling her toward the bed, he knocked some of his knick-knacks over trying to grab for a condom. He quickly sheathed himself and fell back onto the bed, guiding himself into her with one smooth movement.

“Holy fuck,” they groaned simultaneously.

Pure, unadulterated lust overcame the lingering effects of the joint. Leaning forward, she grasped his lips in a kiss as her hips bucked up and down. "Fuck me, Munson."

Eddie slipped his hands into her hair, gently tugging at the scalp and smiling against her as she whimpered. She smelled like weed and sunshine, the scent filling his nose as he pulled her down onto him, filling her fully.

Without a word, he flipped her over and let instinct take over, grinding slowly into her sweet cunt until she was crying out, legs wrapped tightly around his waist. “Holy hell,” she breathed.

He pulled her in close, reveling in the feel of her sweat-slick skin against his. “I really hope you get out of this town, Y/N. You deserve it.”

“You do too, Eddie. What would you do if you got out of here?”

He pondered the question for a moment. "Honestly, I don't know. I've never believed I'd get out...until this year. I feel like I might actually graduate at 20."

"I'll help," she said sincerely, looking up at him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "I'll tutor you in math and once you graduate maybe we can shove off to one of the coasts. I can study marine life, you can play for me, and you'll figure out what you want to do with your life."

That sounded perfect, almost too good to be true. "I'd like that," he replied, kissing the top of her head. "It's finally gonna be my year."

[redflagshipwriter]

Halfa Cass Chapter 8 Part ½

masterpost

Black Bat got back to Gotham well before flying time. She took a shower to get the stinkyman stink out of her hair and apologetically took the green jacket to the wash. Cigarettes. Yuck! 

She joined the family for dinner. Damibat was there, face like thunder and clearly Not Talking to Alfred or Brucedad. Cass slid into her place and gave him a nod. He returned it. Very civil. We are professionals, Cain, you and I and no one else in this dump.

Cass hid a faint smile.

No Timibird. No Jaybird. Those were rarer birds to fly out to Wayne Manor, so she wasn’t too surprised. Just…

Cass readjusted her body language to be fine and normal. She didn’t need her flock family close for comfort. She was fine and normal! Yes, Stinkyman had said that she’d died. Yes. He said that.

(That fits with the pain of the electrical shock and the voltage necessary to short out bat computer, Cass’s Black Bat brain said sensibly.)

Cass hid a shudder.

But he’d also said that there may be no repercussions! As long as she left it alone and did not think about it. She had permission to pretend it didn’t happen. That was the best thing to try. She would eat her dinner and take her nap and then go flying.

Alfie served dinner. Cass caught herself playing with her fork, winding noodles into a secret pattern that might somehow make her feel better. 

“Is there something wrong with your pasta, Miss Cassandra?”

She looked up at him guiltily through her eyelashes and stopped playing with her food. Big sigh. 

“Will Master Timothy be returning to the manor tonight?” Alfie asked Brucedad.

Brucedad cleared his throat and put his spoon down for a moment. “I expect that he might spend the night with his friends in San Francisco,” he said.

Cass read the words beneath the words. Timbird was with the Young Justice friends. New plan. Not discussed. He’d been sent to Amity Park to investigate the laboratory where Cass had

(died. Where Cass had died.)

Been with Captain Marvel. And if he was out all day, it meant he’d found something.

Her heart jumped in her chest. She wanted to ask questions. She wanted to make sure that no one knew. 

Suspicious, Cass told herself sternly. Suspicious behavior. So she drizzled hot sauce on her pasta and ate a big mouthful.

Damibat copied her after a moment. 

Brucedad and Alfie did not wince, but they made their ‘white man thinks spice is scary’ faces. 

Cass quirked a smile. She put a lot more hot sauce. It was too much sauce. It turned the pasta red.

Brucedad made an unhappy sound and deliberately looked away from her plate. Haha. He was thinking: my stomach hurts just looking at that. Oh god, I'm old. Acid reflux. Heartburn. Acid reflux heartburn heartburn-

Bullying her batdad made her feel a little better. How could she be an undead abomination if she was, in fact, a naughty girl? Check and mate, existential horror. Cass finished her dinner and danced to her room on her toes, feeling the music from the last time she had performed on stage. She did a leap for the sheer joy of movement.

Everything still seemed better when she got up from her nap. Cass stretched on the floor beside her bed, and then flopped into a side saddle stretch to happily drink a bottle of green tea. She took it to the kitchen and into the machine for a wash and stole a peek into the fridge to see the after-flight snack. Protein balls! Chocolate and nuts? Cass stole one and fled to the batcave before anyone could see the crime.

Timbird was waiting in the cave on the big screen. He looked very tense. He and Batdad both looked at her when she came down the stairs.

Oh. There was a rock in her stomach. 

Cass beamed at them and flipped off the stairs to land in a gymnast stance behind Brucedad’s chair. “Hi, Timbird,” she said, acting normally. 

“Hi, Cass,” he said, sparing her a tired smile. “I was just telling Bruce how my trip out to Amity went.” She nodded, waiting for elaboration. Tense. “There were fresh tank tracks.” 

Oh. What. “What?” Cass repeated, because it was worth repeating. “Tanks?” She mimed her mind being blown.

“Yes, I figure that you would have noticed if they’d been there before.” Tim somehow seemed even unhappier. “The running theory is that someone was keeping an eye on the place and something about your trip out there alerted them.”

‘Machine. Electricity.’

“Extremely suspicious,” Cass said on rote. 

“Yes,” Batdad agreed gruffly. “There’s no legal justification for that kind of force being deployed in the continental United States and no record that we’ve found for it.”

“Definitely criminal.” Cass hovered for a moment. “Should I help?”

Timbird and Batdad exchanged glances. “I think that I would be best used in the cave tonight on research,” Batdad decided. “I’ll run comms while I’m here. Cass, can you and Robin handle things? There’s nothing in particular going on, aside from the weapons case. Robin has the information on that. We think that we’ve tracked the gang’s mechanic down.”

Cass gave a double thumbs up, more than a little relieved that she didn’t have to do anything related to Amity Park today. “Okay, I find mechanic and beat peace into them,” she said cheerfully. 

“You investigate and observe them,” Batdad repeated, faux-stern. Hint of smile. Naughty kid, tugging at my cape.

Cass nodded just as seriously. “Robin and I investigate, observe, beat until peaceful.” She smacked a fist into her palm.

Timbird snorted. “It sounds like a plan. I’m with YJ tonight, so I’ll log off.”

“Byebye birdie.” Cass waved on her way to the equipment lockers.

[flowery-laser-blasts]

DINE 'N CRIME: DUMPLING

This recipe is part of the menu of 'Chez Molerat vs Dine 'n Crime'.

HOW TO MAKE THE FILLING. Ingredients: - Fatty pork meat/porkbelly slices (preferably ground meat) - 2 hands full of big shrimp (deshelled and cleaned out). - Two gloves of finely chopped garlic - A piece of ginger (size of your pinky finger), also finely chopped - 2 Spring onions - 1 can of bamboo shoots (use only half of it) - 2 quick shakes of ground white pepper (or to your preferred taste) - 2 tbsp of water - 2 tsp of Soy sauce - 2 tsp of Shaoxing cooking wine - 1 tsp of Sesame oil - Samyang Buldak sauce to your liking (HOT!) Optional ingredients: - Finely chopped carrot - Finely chopped cabbage - Finely chopped shiitake mushrooms

Instructions: - If you have ground pork, great! If you don't; chop the pieces of fatty pork meat as big as your pinky fingers. After that, carefully start hammering down on it with two knives; ground it ye olde way! It's a bit time consuming but you'll feel like a professional chef when you start double wielding kitchen knives. Keep in mind that this causes a lot of noise though and PLEASE BE CAREFUL BECAUSE KNIVES ARE SHARP! Once you are done, put the ground pork into a bowl. - Wash and deshell the shrimps in cold water. Take out the guts, wash the shimps once more and finally chop the shrimps into 4 to 5 pieces. Add the shrimps to the pork. - Clean and finely chop 2 spring onions (depending on the size it can also be 1 or 3). Chop the bamboo shoots and lastly mince the ginger and garlic into tiny pieces (you can also grate the ginger and use a garlic press for the garlic). Add these ingredients to the pork shrimp mixture. - Add the water, ground pepper, soy sauce, Shaoxing cooking wine, sesame oil and Buldak sauce to the mixture. Stir well until everything is evenly divided. Once combined, cover the bowl and set the filling aside in the refrigerator. NOTE: If you do not have the Buldak sauce, that's no problem! You can easily replace this with a bit of Madam Jeanette or any other hot pepper to your liking. It's up to your spice level. Keep in mind that this recipe is made to my preferences and not everyone likes hot foods. So if you want to eat good dumplings without the spice; leave out the Buldak sauce (or use it seperately for dipping).

HOW TO MAKE THE DUMPLING SKIN (RECOMMENDED FOR MORE ADVANCED COOKS). Ingredients: - Water 120mL/4.2oz - 200g/0.85 cup of All purpose flour - A pinch of salt - 80g/half a cup of Spinach (preferably fresh baby spinach) for the green dough - Liquid Squid ink for the black dough

Instructions: - Add the flour and salt to the mixing bowl. - Boil the water, turn off the stove and add the baby spinach to soften it. Make sure to NOT overcook spinach as it contains 'prussic Acid' which means that your body can turn this stuff into Cyanide.Not enough to actually kill you, of course... I hope. I'm a Doctor, but not a health doctor or dietician, so don't take it as hard facts from me! Technically speaking, you're also not a 'doctor', you know... Since you're a drop out. ZIP IT, SHEGO! - Add the softened spinach and the water to a mixer and blend it until smooth. - Sieve the blended spinach juice until all the pulp is seperated from the warm green water (yummy). Make sure that the water is around 45°c/113°f - Carefully add the warm water to the flour as you mix it - Make a ball of dough and if it's too wet, add a little bit more flour but not too much! Keep on kneading and once the ball of dough is springy to touch (push it in with your finger and it should go back up) it's ready! - Divide the dough in two equal pieces. Wrap up one of them and to the other we will add a few drops of squid ink. Knead the ball (yes it will be a bit sticky again) until it changes color. We're aiming for a dark grey color, not to worry; this will turn black during the steaming process. HOW TO FOLD THE DUMPLINGS: For the life of me I cannot explain to you how to fold dumplings so here; have this amazing tutorial by China Sichuan Food. My auntie taught me how to fold crescent moon dumplings but well, I'm still not the best at it when it comes to folding home made dumpling skin. That's the reason why I adviced at the start that making this is for more advanced cooks. If you have never folded dumplings before, I recommend you start with store bought frozen gyoza skins. They are WAY easier to make dumplings with but sadly, I haven't found any black and green frozen gyoza skins in stores.

Once you're finished making all your dumplings, you can go right ahead and steam them for 7~8 minutes OR you can store them in the freezer (make sure to first seperately freeze them for up to 1 hour (or until slightly hardened) and then you can put all of them together in a bag, this way they won't stick together) If you want to heat them up after freezing; steam them for 15 minutes.

HOW TO MAKE THE DIPPING SAUCE. Ingredients: - 1 tbsp Chinese black vinegar - 1 to 2 tbsp Soy sauce - 1 tsp Sesame oil Mix these condiments together in a little bowl, for topping you can add: - Sesame seeds - Sliced chilli - Finely sliced ginger

Enjoy these dumplings while hot! Carefully bite the tip to create a little air hole so you won't burn your mouth because these dumplings are juicy!

[greensimp]

Gyutaro x Human!Reader: You Think He's Dead and Attempt to Save Him

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

WC - 1.7K

TW - Graphic descriptions of gore, angst, sads, language, death

A/N - idk felt sads today

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

No…. no no no no no…

Your chest tightened painfully as horror filled your features. He had told you to stay away from this fight, but you couldn’t stay away. Your worry for him was certainly going to be the end of you one day. What could you do about the threat if Gyutaro couldn’t even handle it? You’re a simple human, destined to die far before Gyutaro’s natural lifespan makes its end.

Blood and gore surround you, glistening under the moonlight, a scene straight from a horror novel. At first, you couldn’t recognize who the viscera belonged to. Your head felt faint, bile trying to shoot up to your throat. You prayed to whatever god was listening that it wasn’t who you thought it was. Your beloved was one of the strongest beings in existence! There was no way he could lose to whatever had challenged him.

Then you found it.

You refused to accept it until you held it in your hands.

Tremors seized you as what you held in your palm lay limp and lifeless, merely a remnant of the thing you cherish the most in this world.

A tuft of green and black, stained with blood, stares back at you with a confirmation you desperately want to deny.

The bile in your throat finally breaches as you empty your stomach onto the ground in front of you.

This wasn’t real. You told yourself that it was all a bad dream and that you’d wake up.

You barely noticed the distant sounds of crushing blows and fighting as you just sat on your knees and heaved. You were still very much in the middle of a battlefield, it seemed. Was Daki still struggling? Did she know about the condition of her brother?

Once you had nothing else to vomit, you squeezed your eyes shut with the tuft of hair still in your hand and let out a strained sob. The acid that passed through your esophagus made your voice hoarse, but that just made the loss evermore apparent in your wails.

Maybe you should move. Maybe you should run. Maybe you should look for a place to hide. But what does it matter anymore? The only thing that ever mattered was him. Could you accept that he was gone? Would you?

You tried to look forward through watery eyes, only to flinch and let out another cry of anguish.

A disembodied arm lay only several feet away from you. While blurry, the tone of the skin only confirmed your new reality even further.

Without much thought, you crawled through the slick, bloodstained grass. Then, once close enough, you shakily, yet desperately reach out to the arm.

The arm that once held you closer than any mother to their child.

The arm you once felt rubbing your back while you fell ill to a suspicious seafood dish.

The arm you once held while watching dozens of fireworks wash you both with brilliant colors.

The arm you’ll never feel draped over your mid-section as you awaken from slumber ever again.

…

Gyutaro’s attention immediately snaps from the “fight” to a strange sensation he felt far away. He could tell something had gripped one of his body parts, but his ability to pinpoint exactly which one was limited based on the proximity of his actual consciousness.

Over the past hour, he and Daki had been humoring a lower moon that had the audacity to challenge them for the Upper Moon Six title.

Well, humoring would be a bit inaccurate.

They’re humiliating the wretched creature.

In perfect tandem, thanks mostly due to a partially shared consciousness, they played trick after degrading trick on the challenger. This final one was making them think they’d been getting the upper hand by defeating Gyutaro. He allowed himself to be reduced to viscera, the challenger none the wiser of the secret the sibling shared.

If one is standing, the other will never die.

The finale to this fight , which is quickly becoming boring to the siblings, would be Daki luring them back to Gyutaro’s “corpse,” only for Gyutaro to quickly reassemble himself and instill that one final blow to the lowly demon’s ego before ending their pathetic undead life.

At least… that WAS the plan.

Gyutaro curiously allowed for a portion of his consciousness to re-animate an eyeball that had been flown across the forest floor to see what was touching him.

….shit….

While slightly blurry, he could make out enough of a scene to make his heart drop.

Of course, you hadn’t listened to him. You were stubborn.

He wanted to be angry in the moment, and he may have been. However, the jarred movements you were making while hugging his severed arm close to your bloody kimono only filled him with guilt.

What’s worse? You’re covered in his blood. His vile, venomous blood. Even a micro cut could allow his poison to infect you.

“Change of plans, Daki. Cut the bug’s pathetic life short.”

Before she could even question him, his presence was absent from her body.

Daki paused, falling to the ground from the tree branch she was perched on. The other demon growled and dropped a few meters in front of her.

“Finally done running, bitch? Just cause your abomination of a brother is currently a red mist on the ground doesn’t mean I’m done with you-“

“Yeah yeah, sure, listen. I don’t have time to babysit you anymore, kay?”

Not even a second later, without giving them an opportunity process what she just said, six pink obi belts came from every direction and impaled the demon’s body.

“Have fun watching the sunrise, bug.”

Angry, pained gurgling sounds followed as Daki began to walk away. With a belt coming out of the back of their throat and through their mouth, they couldn’t spit any more bile. They’re done for.

…

An idea emerged from your irrational and erratic mind. Maybe… maybe it wasn’t over. Not just yet. You were desperate and unwilling to accept his death.

You stared down at the lifeless arm when a memory shot through your thoughts.

He can regenerate, right? The more humans he eats, the stronger he becomes. What if you… what if you could feed him somehow?

You had very little understanding of how demons worked. Gyutaro tries to keep that life away from you as much as he can.

You hurriedly looked around, hope filling your chest when you find a sharp stone laying within arms reach of you. You quickly grab it, bring it to your wrist, and…

“You wanna die?!”

Before you could register the familiar voice that came from seemingly every direction, a foot kicked the stone out of your grasp and into the brush.

The action worked like a flashbang, sound appearing to not exist as your frozen body is unable to process anything.

After what felt like minutes, but may have actually been moments, your head snapped up to find the owner of the foot, only for your eyes to widen in horror once more.

A pair of disembodied legs, while obviously belonging to Gyutaro, lacked the rest of their owner. Yet, they stood in front of you, as lively as though they were a part of a whole person. The flesh exposed where the abdomen would begin was writhing in a rapid and grotesque manner.

“Wh-wha-“

“Stupid girl! This is why I told ya to stay at home!”

Suddenly the arm in your grasp was ripped from you by an invisible force.

Then, various masses of flesh seemed to enter a vacuum and return to fit a complex puzzle that was the rest of his body.

What looked like it should take hours happened in mere moments. The abdomen, the torso, the arms, then finally, the head…

The eyes that bore into yours with what appeared to be blinding rage.

The eyes you never thought you’d gaze upon ever again.

Your eyes became misty, slight disbelief being the only thing keeping you from tackling him in an embrace.

He looked to be screaming, but all you heard was the melodic sound of his living voice. The confirmation that your love was still here.

“Are you listening to me?! Ya realize how dangerous the stunt you pulled was?! HUH?!”

Was he mad? Maybe. Was he scared? Definitely. He just witnessed you almost poison yourself in vain. He couldn’t fathom your stupidity, but he had realized in the moments before you sliced you skin just how easily you could be ripped away from him. Even your own hands were a threat.

“You woulda died! And I coulda done NOTHIN’ ABOUT IT!! You’re a HUMAN! A WEAK HUMAN!”

A weak human he can’t live without.

“DO YA NEVER THINK BEFORE YA DO THINGS?! DO YA- OOF-“

His fit was interrupted by the entirety of your body weight being flung at him with great force. He stumbled backward as you clung to him, eventually sending him falling on his back.

Still stunned, he stared down at your form in surprise. You had begun wailing into his chest as if your life hinged on the strength of your lungs.

Feeling the adrenaline dissipating, the realization sunk in deep.

You genuinely believed he was dead.

He saw how broken you would be if he were to really die.

You need him just as much as he needs you.

He hadn’t realized his hands were shaking until he went to hold you closer.

“Hey…”

You couldn’t hear him. All you could do was desperately cling to him.

“M’not goin anywhere, calm down-“

He peeled you off of him and held you up by your shoulders, forcing you to look at his face.

It was then that you finally tried to speak, barely able to hiccup through your tears.

“I *hic* I-I- thought- *hic* I-“

“I know, I know-“

He couldn’t watch anymore, returning your body to his chest where you can cling to him again.

It was a strange feeling to be needed so much. Never in his lives has he ever been needed like this outside of his sister. It was something he never thought would come to be real.

Yet here is his fairytale. You.

The only person he could ever trust with his heart as much as he could with Daki.

You no idea how sacred or how intertwined you had become with his own.

[marlynnofmany]

A Worthy Sacrifice

Going on a food run for this spaceship usually didn’t end up in a debate over whose body parts are more expendable. Never, as a matter of fact. Today was the first. And it could have easily been our last.

The trip had such a peaceful start, too. Along with the usual supplies that we paid real money for, Captain Sunlight sent a handful of us to pick up a local delicacy: some plant. I honestly missed the name. I was more interested in the location — inside a vast cave complex with shafts of light filtering in from above, and multiple lakes of poison to make the perfect growing environment. Or maybe they were acid lakes. At any rate, extremely dangerous, and completely at odds with the lovely sun-dappled scenery and brightly colored plantlife.

I stood with some trepidation at the edge of the cave maze, holding an empty bag and wondering if there was maybe an entrance somewhere big enough for a hoverbike. Beside me, the hulking forms of the Frillian twins were similarly hesitant. You can’t punch an acid lake, after all, or lift weights at it.

Down closer to ground level, Mur just looked annoyed. “It’s fine,” he said, flipping a blue-black tentacle forward. “The locals pick these plants daily.” His own bag was on a dinky little hoversled that followed him like a flying puppy, leash and all. The sled also held a couple pairs of pruning shears in case the stems gave us trouble. Mur could have ridden on the sled himself, pushing off the ground like a squid-shaped kid on a snow disk, but that would have been undignified. Strongarms are proud of that tentacle-walking, after all.

And apparently they’re not phased by giant lakes of acid.

“If you say so,” I told him. “Lead the way.”

He did, grumbling. I followed, taking care not to trip over the sled, while Blip and Blop stood tall and brought up the rear.

The entrance tunnel was small, alongside many others, and a few turned out to lead to the same big cavern. My first impression was warmth. I regretted wearing a sweater, thin and utilitarian though it was. I took it off as we walked, tying it around my waist, glad that I at least had my hair tied back in its usual long braid. I didn’t need any extra sweat about my neck today.

Once the sweater was secure, I was free to appreciate the scenery. It really was pretty. The walls were a wash of reds and golds, with multiple types of greenery sprouting from every level surface and a few that weren’t. The lake far below was an evil purple, fading to the innocent blue of tropical seas at the edges. A solid fence lined the cliff edge, which I appreciated.

The wall behind us was awash in climbing vines with dangling blueberry-looking things that sure would be convenient if they were the plants we were here for.

No such luck. Those were on the far side. Lots of them. A vast jungle of treelike things, most of which were bent under the weight of head-sized yellow fruit. As I watched, one particularly spindly trunk lost its biggest fruit to gravity, and sprung upwards to fling the smaller ones away in a comical fashion. I could almost hear the splats against the cave wall.

“Well, they sure look ripe,” I said.

Mur wasn’t interested. “Where’s the— Oh, there it is. We took the wrong door. C’mon.” He slapped away along the path beside that fence, over to where a single large hover platform waited like a ferry.

We were just getting on, with me trying to hide my misgivings and the Frillians doing the same, when a chorus of more slapping tentacle-steps approached at speed.

“Wait!” commanded the large reddish Strongarm in the lead, who was colored much like the cavern walls. She was also shaped more like an octopus than a squid, as was the green one behind her. The beige-gray one had a pointy squid head like Mur.

Mur waited. He’d already figured out the controls for the platform, and he stood there in silence while I clutched the railing with the Frillians, and the newcomers climbed on.

With nods all around, Mur pressed a button to close the gate. Then he removed the lid of the fancy pottery jar big enough for a child to hide inside — I’d assumed somebody had left it behind — and he scooped out a bunch of those blueberry things. As I watched in curiosity, he opened a different lid, this one over a part of the control console that stuck out, baring a dark tunnel like an ominous toilet bowl.

He threw the berries in. The platform’s engine started.

Mur steered us out over the deadly lake, engines humming happily, throwing clusters of berries in every so often. I exchanged looks with the Frillians. The other Strongarms didn’t look impressed.

“Are those fuel berries?” I asked.

“Only for this engine,” Mur said, tapping a sign. “It takes anything organic. Nice of the locals to make sure there’s always a full pot here. There is a note here to refill what we use if possible, and I think we definitely should, but I’m sure that not everyone does.”

The red Strongarm made a flapping noise that I recognized as the equivalent of a snort. Yeah, she probably wouldn’t stick around to do her part.

(And remember that bit about “anything organic”? If you recall how I started this little anecdote, this is where you’ll start to get concerned.)

There was only a moderate level of worry in the air at that point, though. We hadn’t fallen in yet and the rails seemed sturdy, if sparse, and the jungle was approaching at a reasonable pace. The slight breeze even made the temperature pleasant.

When Mur docked the platform headfirst and opened a gate on the other side, I was the first one off among the trees. Picking the yellow fruits turned out to be a great time, especially the way they kept accidentally flying through the air. They were about as heavy as cantaloupes, but with such rubbery outsides that it was like they were made for high-impact comedy. I did my best to pick each tree thoroughly, hanging onto the bent trunk with one hand before letting go. I’d started by taking a single fruit from each tree, but that had not worked.

Blip and Blop had the most efficient strategy: one held a bag and the other shook a tree like they were taking its lunch money. Mur just climbed the lowest trunks and plucked everything he found. One way or another, we filled our bags quickly and met back at the platform.

The strangers were a little slower, but again, we waited politely. Soon enough, we were on the way across the lake that lurked distantly below like malevolent grape jam.

I was just thinking that it had been a while since I’d had a proper PB&J when the trouble happened.

The Strongarms, standing on one side of the platform with their sacks of fruit, produced blasters and demanded ours.

(Yes, Strongarms keep things hidden among their tentacles. Yes, it’s just as gross as it sounds.)

Anyway, they must have taken our politeness and healthy fear of death for the signs of a bunch of pushovers, and wow they were wrong about that.

Blip and Blop swung their sacks of fruit in unison while I dove to one side and Mur took the other. You’d think we did this sort of thing all the time. In reality, there were only so many directions to go in a fenced-in battleground like this.

The would-be bandits were too busy dodging the sacks to aim their blasters properly, though they tried. One shot Blip’s bag of fruit, making her even more angry as yellow globes bounced everywhere. One nearly singed my ear, but didn’t get a second shot when I roundhouse kicked him in the squiddy head.

The other one, the leader, was wrestling Mur, and her shot went right through the center of the berry pot, shattering it and sending the platform’s fuel in every direction.

I mentioned that the railings weren’t exactly close together. And that these looked like blueberries: the little round things. My point is, they rolled. With great talent and speed. Right off the sides and down into that terrifying lake, leaving only a few behind.

“Look what you did!” Mur yelled, wrestling harder.

Blop made an undignified squeak of concern, then tried to find an angle he could help from. He ended up stepping firmly on a red tentacle and pinning the blaster to the floor.

His sister, meanwhile, was slamming an alien cantaloupe against the green guy, whose own weapon was stuck inside a different fruit, making its leisurely way down towards the lake.

The gray dude was out cold, which was a surprise to me. I guess Strongarms are easy to concuss, I thought as I made sure his blaster was safe on our side of the platform. I’d considered throwing it over the side as well, but figured we might want it to keep them in line once they woke up. I sure wasn’t planning on giving it back, though.

Crunch went the third blaster, Ow went the Strongarm holding it, and “Stay down, you arm-dragging limp grub!” went Mur. The red Strongarm stayed down.

So. We won the fight. But we only had a scattered few berries left to fuel the platform, and it had coasted to a stop in what looked to me like the exact stinkin’ center of this terrible, poisonous lake.

Blop looked worried. “Now what?” he asked Mur.

“These?” Blip suggested, holding a yellow fruit out toward the intake.

“No!” Mur shouted, startling everyone. He blocked her path. “Those break the engine. Didn’t you read the sign?”

I glanced at the defeated Strongarms. “I think only you read the sign,” I told him.

“Well, it’s very clear!” he exclaimed, waving dark tentacles like he wanted to tear out hair that he didn’t have. “Only other organics!”

Blip set the fruit down. “What do we have?” she asked, checking her pockets. “I’ve got two shrimp sticks and one of those seednuts that Paint likes.”

We all took stock, coming up with a whole lot of nothing. The unconscious Strongarms woke, and submitted to sitting in the corner with their leader, injured and embarrassed and also not in possession of any spare fuel.

“Let’s at least see how far the berries take us,” Mur said grimly, picking up the nearest.

We gathered all that we could find, and it took us a little way. Pocket snacks and whatnot took us a bit farther. We considered clothes (most were artificial), the fruit-carrying bags (same), and even treating the toilet-looking thing in appropriate but mortifying ways.

As we got increasingly desperate, we were still far from shore.

“Pretty sure this is real leather,” Mur said as he dropped in the leash for his tiny hoversled. “That will take us … not far enough.”

We were sort of close, kind of. Relatively speaking.

“The captain will come looking if we’re gone long enough,” Blop said.

“She doesn’t know which tunnel we took,” Mur reminded him. “Searching could take days.”

“Won’t the locals find us?” Blip asked.

The red Strongarm sneered. “They just finished a work cycle, and it’s a regular holiday. You think we’d try to rob you if they could come in at any moment?”

Both Frillians groaned.

Mur scowled. “Yes, very smart. See where that got you!” Moving slowly for added drama, he picked up a pair of shears from his sled. “Who wants to volunteer something organic?”

There were desperate pleas at that, and stonefaced silence from Mur that I hoped was acting.

“What about them?” the leader said, pointing wildly at the Frillians. “Surely they don’t need all those frills!”

Blip and Blop regarded her with identical shocked expressions. “Yes we do!”

“Well, we need our arms! You think that wouldn’t hurt to cut off?”

The yelling escalated while something very obvious occurred to me. I stepped over to Mur and flopped the braid over my shoulder. “Do you think this would be enough?”

The Strongarms shut up immediately. And they stayed silent while Mur calculated, so silent that I started to wonder.

They answered my question before I could ask it.

“You would volunteer that?” asked the red one quietly.

Ohhh, they think it’s a tentacle covered in hair, I realized. Have they not met a human before? Never mind; let’s see if Mur plays along.

“Yes,” I said solemnly, instead of going “Yeah” like I usually would. “If this is the only way to save all of us, then I will gladly make that sacrifice.” I looked over at Blip and Blop, who were elbowing each other but keeping mum. Good.

Mur ushered me toward the intake with all the grandeur of a high-society attendant. “If you would permit me to do the honors,” he said, “I will be quick.”

So I stood in front of the thing with my back to it so the wide-eyed bandits couldn’t see, told Mur to cut just below the hair tie, and held up my sweater ready to wrap it around my head like a bandage.

Yes, I did feel silly. But the bandits deserved a bit of shame and secondhand anguish. Besides, I’d been wanting to try a short haircut for ages, but never found the right time to chop it all off.

This is definitely the right time, I thought. “Go ahead.”

Mur snipped through the braid with one clean cut — hooray for sharp shears — and I collapsed with an anguished expression and some artful whimpers. Blip helped tie the sweater “bandage,” while Blop shielded us from view and stared down the Strongarms. I didn’t see Mur drop the braid into the intake, since my view was somewhat limited, but I felt the engine kick on with a most welcome hum.

I really hope that was enough, I thought as I lay there with my arms about my head. It’ll suck if we have to snip this down to a buzz cut. That’ll be hard to keep up the act through. And I really don’t want hair THAT short.

But when the engine finally went quiet, it was to a cheer from the Frillians. We were close enough to jump.

Or, more accurately, close enough for Blip to fling Mur across the gap with one of my socks to gather berries in. Mur was a terrible shot when he threw it back, but enough berries reached us that we were able to close the distance.

I pulled the blaster from my waistband and nudged it over the side before I forgot. It was too small for the Frillians to use anyway.

Plus, we didn’t need it. By the sound of her voice, the lead Strongarm had been so humbled by my sacrifice that she might have been considering a career change.

She even offered their collections of fruit, and the other two didn’t object.

Mur accepted graciously. I managed to turn my chuckling into pained noises as strong Frillian arms lifted me. I didn’t uncover my head to look. By the sounds of it, the many fruits were being balanced on Mur’s sled and the shoulders of whichever Frillian wasn’t carrying me.

“Farewell,” Mur said haughtily. “Make better choices in the future.”

We left the cavern to the sound of the ex-bandits promising to do so.

I have no idea if they’ll really go straight, but wouldn’t it be hilarious if they did?

Once we were out of sight, Blip put me down and took her share of the fruit bags. I claimed one too. I felt much lighter without the braid. And the threat of impending death.

I looked at my crewmates cheerfully. “Let’s never do that again.”

“Not without significant backup,” Mur agreed.

“Or more spare headfur!” Blop said.

“I’ve definitely spared enough for one day.” I freed a hand to pull out the hair tie, marveling at how simple a process it was now.

My crewmates all told me I looked incredibly strange with short hair about my face like that.

I told them to wait until I picked a final hairstyle, and I described hair gel to them.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come!

[jerirose]

Happy Hyunjin Day!! 🍀

Updated ver. - old ver under cut

Twitter | Instagram [Image Description] A digital realism painting of Hyunjin from Stray Kids. Hyunjin is sitting in front of brush with leaves of golden yellows and earthy greens, both hands are in the painting, one held up to his face, holding a four (4) leaf clover, in which he is holding the stem inbetween his lips; the other hand is relaxed, drooped in front of him, his elbow resting on his knee just out of view. Both hands are covered in plasters, of different colours, his fingers decorated with delicate tattoos of lines, dots and stems with leaves. Hyunjin wears a denim jacket that his acid washed with blues and green and yellow undertones, with a plain white tee shirt underneath, just the collar on show; above two gold thin chains hang from his neck. Hyujin's black hair and slicked back, with blueish-green highlights, a few strands fall onto his face around his cheekbones. His cheeks are peppered with glowing star freckles and blushed with a light rose red tint. Two antlers are coming out of his forehead and his black deer ears peak out from his hair, decorated with several gold rings. He has a gold centre lip ring and gold eyebrow piercing on his left side. In the lower picture under the cut, Hyunjin's knuckles are blush with red and there's a slight bit of blood, running out from one of the bandages.

[prythiansfavoritefox]

For @teddyhoneybear

Elain’s breath came shallow in her throat. She had controlled her queasiness well up till that point but saving Cassian’s life had been the final straw. So much blood. Her new High Fae body made it so much worse, overwhelming her nostrils with the stench of salt and iron. Finally alone, she heaved into a bucket. Her throat burned with acid as she threw up again and again, the smell of digested food mixing with the blood’s odor to torment Elain’s nose. Those Night Court folk did not warn Elain about the drawbacks of having so much sensation.

She sighed both in relief at the vomiting ending and the frustration at being so squeamish. But she had grown up in ballrooms, not battlefields. Her sister too; to Nesta, the ballroom was a battlefield. She plucked the flower that had grown on her hand while she was distracted with annoyance.

Elain was prepared to dispose of this afternoon’s lunch and wash up when she felt breath against the nape of her neck. She gasped in shock, but she already knew who it was somehow, whether it was through her Seer powers or her mating bond.

Lucien.

She relaxed into him as his hand wrapped around her waist. She bit her lip to control her emotions as Lucien dragged his nose up the side of her throat. “I’m back, Elain,” he whispered almost like a purr, and Elain couldn’t resist turning in his arms to look at his face.

He was as heartbreakingly beautiful as ever and yet not. His stunning russet eye and his gold eye paired with that wicked scar held most of Elain’s attention, but she scanned the rest of him. Elain had only ever seen him in exquisite attire fit for a prince- or a High Lord’s son. Trenchcoats in rich colors such as emerald green, ruby red, and sapphire blue. White shirts with lacy embroidery and billowy sleeves. Doublets with threading that Elain suspected was made out of real gold. Pants, typically beige, that showed off his powerful thighs. Tall black boots polished as finely as his weapons. Hair typically tied up in ribbon.

The Lucien before her was…different. His black Illyrian leathers clung to his skin, showing off his toned and muscular body. He wasn’t bulky like Cassian or even the other Illyrians. He was tall and lean, built for endurance rather than strength. A skilled fighter rather than one that relied on brawn. His legs, well, there was another story there. His lower body strength was, if the size of his thighs was any indication, incredible. His hair hung loose around his shoulders, and blood still coated his face. He looked dangerous, feral, faerie.

While Elain adored that Lucien put such care into his appearance, she had to admit that the Lucien before her held a different kind of appeal to her- to the girl who wanted to be more than this, who wanted to step out of her sisters’ shadow and become greater than the garden girl who foolishly, in some’s eyes, held onto hope.

Elain reached up with one hand and wiped some blood away from Lucien’s face before planting a chaste kiss on his lips. “Are you ok?”

Lucien laughed softly, and Elain felt it against her forehead. “I never wish to fight in a battle again- but I am in one piece.”

Elain smiled back at him, a rush of fondess overwhelming her for Lucien. In a world of bloody, brutal warriors, Lucien was a man of peace. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t fight when he had to. Just like Elain who killed the King of Hybern.

“I heard you made the killing blow,” Lucien added in that quiet voice. Elain waved him off. “Nesta did. I just stabbed him.”

Lucien seemed to fumble for a response before he shook his head slightly. “You don’t need to pretend it didn’t happen, you know.”

“What do you mean?” Elain asked sharply, her defenses kicking in. Lucien shook his head. “I know you don’t like it any more than I do. But you did it to protect your sister. That’s what matters. You killed him, Elain. Nesta just beheaded him.”

Elain’s lips trembled. She didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to think about the fact that she had taken life, even if it was someone so malicious who was trying to kill her sister. She despised violence, hated that her sister had to kill animals every day so that they could eat. “I don’t want to think about that right now,” Elain muttered. Lucien shrugged. “As you wish, my lady,” he murmured. Elain got on her tip-toes and kissed Lucien’s forehead. Then his nose. Then both cheeks. “Let’s focus on the fact that we’re both still well,” Elain breathed. Lucien stared into her eyes, asking for permission. Impatiently, Elain grabbed Lucien by the back of his head and pulled him to her.

His tongue brushed the seam of her mouth, asking once more for permission, and Elain opened for him. Elain couldn’t hold on hard enough, couldn’t breathe fast enough. Her Fae senses threatened to drown her as they both sunk to the small bunk bed against the tent wall, Elain’s legs wrapped around his waist.

She had never wanted anyone this badly, never needed anyone this badly. It had never been like this with Graysen; the experience wasn’t even comparable. Elain’s dress was unbuttoned, and Lucien was sliding it gently off of her body. “Sit up, sweetheart,” he whispered, and Elain obeyed; she turned around, expecting him to unlace her corset when she heard him laugh.

Elain turned around, demanding, “What is so funny?”  Then Lucien placed his hands on her corset. “This.” Without breaking eye contact with her, Lucien ripped it in half.

Elain’s jaw dropped as she stared at Lucien. “I-you-you just-“

“Unlacing takes too long, and I’m too needy for you to wait,” Lucien crooned, and Elain was certain she was blushing scarlet. She clawed at his leathers, desperate to feel him too, and he laughed again.

“It seems you are needy for me too, Elain,” he murmured, and Elain huffed, feeling irritated and flustered and horny. “Are you going to take it off or not?” Lucien only flashed her a smirk, standing up and walking away from her. Elain made a whining sound at the distance he had put between them. “Where are you going?” She complained as he showed his back to her. He looked at her over one shoulder and winked. “Giving you a show.”

“I-“

There was a crackling sound from downstairs, which was an obvious sign: someone had burned the cake.

Someone. Yeah, right. Who else in this house baked? Elain smacked her forehead as she got up from the chair she had set up to watch over the cake as it baked, where she had dozed off. So annoying. Couldn’t the dream have finished before she got up?

You were having a sexual dream with Lucien!

Recalling that, Elain cringed in embarrassment. Oh, god, would Lucien be able to tell through the mating bond? Elain wasn’t certain how much he knew and how much he didn’t, but he always saw too much of her than she wanted anyone else to know. It was why she avoided him so, even when her mind screamed at her to, well…not avoid him.

Ugh. It was going to be a long day.

[9divine9]

I wish I lit up the rooms I walked into,

I wish I lit up the rooms I walked into, but instead it feels as if I walk with a great cloud daunting over me. And every room instead fills with water, people feeling the weight of the cold on their ankles, feeling the crisp rain pouring on their skin, hair wet, & palms sweat with nerves. So they leave, because why stay near someone who makes a room so somber?

I have a soft voice, softer than petals falling in the wind. A voice that gets even dimmer when I feel like my last spark has been washed out by the rain, and silence reins in. I have a laugh that often gets called undesirable and unattractive. So I laugh quietly under my breath. I have big black eyes that stay puffy from the salty tears that hung them open the night prior. I have soft freckles under eye bags that are often forgotten, brown eyes and brown hair that are easily mistaken for any other softly green under-toned tanned girl. I have hair long enough to cover elbows that often get called terrifying by outsiders. I have bones that show through the seams of my dresses. I have wrists that often get measured by the fingertips of strangers.

I wish my voice was like thunder, striking a room like lightning. Unforgettable, strong, and beautiful. I wish my laugh was sweet like the summer, honest, acidic, tasteful, addicting and loud. I wish I had the courage to repeat myself when I haven’t been heard instead of shutting down. I wish I wouldn’t get mistaken for any other girl. I wish my eyes weren’t burnt from all the salt that they’ve cried. I wish my arms weren’t so tiny. I wish I stopped comparing myself to everyone.

But overall. I wish I was kinder to myself, and then maybe— just maybe, I’d be able to light up the room in which I’m the only one in it.

[smok3r7]

Is Leaving Even An Option?

Joel x F!reader

Explicit, 18+

Two: Too Late

Series MasterList & Main MasterList - My Ao3

Summary: Your days have become one in the same, even with the terrifying reality of death right outside the walls of Jackson. You never thought you’d be in the situation you’ve been stuck in for seven years now, the daily abuse you endure has become an expectation. You take whatever your husband throws at you, literally and figuratively, because you’ve been trained to believe this is normal. But a new man, Joel, moves next door and happens to be friendly towards you, this causes your husband’s anger to worsen. Your mind starts a gruesome war with itself - can you leave him or do you stay until the inevitable happens?

Chapter Summary: Your daily life of tragedy somehow takes an even worse turn. After losing, yet again, your child, but this time by the hands of your own husband, you start to crack. You try to open up to Maria, but it doesn’t go as planned and now you are completely stuck on what to do.

Word count: 3.6k

⚠️Warnings: EXTREME verbal and physical abuse, miscarriage from abuse, strangulation until passing out, slapping, name calling, fat shaming, anxiety, gut punch, throwing glass at reader, forgiving husband over and over

—

“This house is such a mess, do you just sit on your lazy ass while I’m out on patrol, risking my life for you?” Nate’s voice echoes from upstairs off of the emerald green colored walls of your home.

You’re sitting on the plush black couch in the living room listening to your record player play “Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay” by Otis Redding as you continue to put little puzzle pieces together on the dark wood table in front of you, immune to his vile words.

You hear the stomping of his boot covered feet in the room above you. He came home from a patrol meeting mad about something Maria had said, but again, when isn’t he? No matter what you do or say, Nate is never satisfied with you and it has become the norm. You spend all day cleaning the house until it is sparkling clean, even the high windows you have, that you can’t reach without a ladder, get cleaned and Nate still complains about seeing dust along the window sill - which was never even there.

Your body turns to stone when you hear the fast creaking of the stairs caused by Nate’s brutally quick steps. The small puzzle piece you have in between your index and thumb falls from them, your lungs stop mid breath, and your eyes start to blink constantly so the tears that are coating your eyes don’t stream down your cold face. Your body can turn on and off as it pleases, this has become your new routine, every single day.

To your right, you hear the scoff and you knew it was coming. “Still just sitting on your fat ass. Wow.” He enunciates the wow and the sound of the hardwood floor notifies you that he’s now getting closer to you, and you’re still in the same position when he comes down, too scared to move or open your mouth, because the tiniest sign of resistance can cause this whole thing to blow up. You’re hoping he’ll stop his nonsense when he notices the pink positive pregnancy test on top of the sonogram that shows a two and a half month fetus, laying on the glass table in front of you.

“Are you fucking stupid or-“ Nate’s loud voice stops mid sentence, he must see the sonogram. Your forehead has sweat beaded all over, your fingers are picking at one another in your lap, your stomach has this acidic sensation that makes you feel queasy. “This is yours?” He questions with a confused expression as you turn to watch his tattooed muscular arm reach for the items. You nod slowly and gaze into his ocean blue eyes that you adore so much. For the first time in five years, you see Nate’s eyes truly filled with love but, as fast as that feeling washed over him, it’s gone. You see the light drain from his face and get replaced with rage - oh god.

“Who have you been fucking?” He barks as he back hands your face, and you had no time to brace yourself, so the forcefulness of him made you fall onto the white shag rug in between the glass table and the couch. A mixture of what? No one and only you spew out of your lips, now bleeding from his strike. As you land on your back, you’re trying to crawl away from his towering body, but before you can get away he’s sitting all his weight on your stomach and his large hands wrap around your throat. You’re staring right into his baby blues with pure panic, your hands starting to claw at him around your neck to try to make him stop.

“It’s Brad isn’t it? You fucking whore!” Nate spits in your face as his grip tightens, causing your eyes to bulge from their sockets a bit.

All four of your limbs are flailing and hitting the wood floor as you’re trying to get him off of your tummy at least. He has his full body weight pushing on your and his precious baby and there’s nothing you can do about it. You feel absolutely hopeless, like the world is falling apart at the seams.

“Ain’t had sex in almost two months! But I see how you and Brad talk to each other, you’re such a slut!” He continues to spit, fully convinced of himself, even though he’s lying.

The look on his blonde bearded face is pure hatred, his thick brows furrowed together creating the lines to deepen, lips rambling away in a scowl. You believe that he would kill you and have zero remorse about it - but somehow, you still love him. The last thing you remember looking at is Nate’s beautiful baby blue eyes staring daggers into yours before everything fades into black.

—

“So what happened?” Tommy whispers not knowing you’re awake but just loud enough for you to hear as you watch them from afar.

“I don’t even know man!” Nate’s answers in an emotional tone, “I had gotten home from the meeting and she was doing her puzzle in the living room. I went up to shower and when I got dressed I heard a bunch of commotion downstairs.” He takes a breather like he’s overwhelmed by the answer, and Tommy tells him to take his time, tapping him on the shoulder to comfort him.

“As I walk into the living room, I see this guy sitting on her, so I yell and the guy gets spooked and runs through the house and out the back door.” Nate cries and forcefully puts his hand on the wall next to your bedroom door.

You can’t fucking believe him. You hate that he is such a good liar, it’s disgusting how good he is. He has perfected it since he snatched you up and you should have noticed the red flags before it got to this point. You’ve become so pathetic, letting him just walk all over your soul with no respect for you, and you have no life since he’s isolated you - you only exist for Nate’s needs and wants.

But you ignored how he treated you like a possession, never let you go by yourself anywhere, and if you did, he would question you about everything, making you quit your job at the stables because he didn’t want you to have to work. Slowly, the name calling started - you were always a whore, a slut, a cunt, dumbass, and his personal favorite “A hole for me to fill.” Then the slapping, punching, hair pulling, and choking against the wall became part of the daily routine.

What pulls you back in are the apologies, where he is on his knees crying and pleading with you to forgive him. “I’m so sorry sweetheart, I’ll never do that again, you don’t deserve that, please give me another chance, you are my moon and stars.” Nate has such a beautiful voice, smile, and he’s really charming. You really do believe him. However, it’ll be fine for a day or two, and then it’ll be right back to him hurting you. It’s been a vicious cycle you’ve lived the last five years.

You come back to the realization of where you are and why, your hands instinctively going over your swollen stomach, expecting to still feel that little creature growing in you, but there’s nothing. That mini you is now no more and your mind breaks - it was your body’s last straw. The most earth-shattering scream escapes your body, not caring about anything but your baby. “Not my baby!” You repeat with wails of salty tears soaking your cheeks as you sit up and wrap your sleeve covered arms around your bottomless belly, just shaking.

Nate and Tommy spin their heads as your husband jumps towards you and Tommy disappears into the hallway. “Not my baby!” Still sobbing but for another, for Rosa - you have been stripped of both of your children through death. The feeling of utter despair and rage starts to fight inside of you, is it his fault or is it yours?

The touch of Nate’s hand gently rubbing your face makes you spring your eyes open and look at him. You want to fight him off so bad, the urge to claw at his face and to scream that this is all his fault is boiling inside your chest. But the way his hand is caressing your cherry-red cheeks and his face is in disarray, his blonde hair looks like he’s been running his hands through constantly, his soul-snatching eyes now bloodshot, and his lips a soft red from biting his lips. It all together makes you swoon over him like a teenage girl again, you love him, which is why you won’t leave him.

“My love,” he whispers softly as he brings his lips to your forehead and places a gentle kiss, which makes you cry all over again.

“My baby…” you choke out once more before Nate lays down in the bed you two share, next to you and just holds you as you weep into his chest.

You love being held by him, the feeling of security and love flowing through your body when he holds you like a koala. His strong arms wrap around your torso, his thick legs latch around yours, and you take in the smell of his sweat and subtle scent of deodorant, smiling from the familiarity of him. However, an uneasy feeling grows in your guts, your mind racing about what to do because you now know what your husband is capable of doing to his wife; he killed his baby because he thought it wasn’t his.

This should make you leave and want absolutely nothing to do with him ever again, but it’s not that simple. You are dependent on Nate for everything, you don’t have anything of your own, and you can’t just start fresh. It seems impossible without him, and the fact you live in Jackson means that you will end up seeing him everywhere. So the urge to just stay married and deal with whatever comes your way is a lot easier than the ladder, and that’s what you have to choose.

You’re in too deep to just leave, and now with the amount of emotional turmoil there is between the two of you, it will create a new level of mind games.

—

“Hi honey, how are things?” Maria coos as you stand up to receive her hug.

“I’m doing well, thank you. How are you?”

Maria planned a lunch date, it's been one year since your miscarriage, and she didn’t want you to be alone since Nate and Tommy have been gone on patrol for a month. It’s been the most relaxing month you’ve had in years, and it’s very rare that they’re gone this long, two and a half weeks at most. You’ve been able to enjoy the pleasure of your own home, and didn't have to tiptoe around the house just to use the bathroom.

However, this last week has been emotionally exhausting because you have dealt with this looming anniversary alone, and times like these are when you miss Nate the most, because he would hold you, no matter what happened that day, and he would comfort you at night. You’re not sure if that’s a guilt thing for him since he killed his own baby, but you don’t really care why he does it, it’s just the fact that he does.

You haven’t slept much this last week - you’ve tried everything from warm baths to herbal remedies you made from your own garden you started a few years back, in the yard. Your mind just roams in circles about your whole life, about before and your beloved Rosa, then your marriage to Nate, which is at the end of the day, not a marriage, and finally your miscarriage.

It’s been a constant struggle to keep yourself occupied from your own brain, but thankfully Maria and a couple other girls check up on you when they can. They bring baked goods or full meals for you, and sometimes they’ll just sit with you, which you’re thankful for.

“No word on the boys yet,” Maria blurts as she opens the menu that reads Kenny's Burgers - one of the only restaurants in Jackson, packed with customers all the time. “Thank god,” you say louder than you meant, and Maria’s face grows confused. Shit, you think to yourself, why did you have to say that?

“Umm, what?” She asks as she folds the menu back up and sets it on the white round table between the two of you. You bite your bottom lip, do you tell her or lie?

“I meant- like, I- “ you are scrambling for anything to explain yourself but you can’t seem to grasp any ideas. You feel like if you tell the truth, Nate will come out of nowhere and attack you worse than ever. The buzzing of the people at tables around you has started to bother you, your breathing is becoming erratic. You’re sweating heavily, hands fidgeting with each other on the table, before Maria’s hands lightly grab them and she tells you to look at her. Embarrassed at yourself, you slowly pick your head up and gaze at her face, avoiding eye contact with her, afraid you’ll break down right here and now.

“Honey, what is going on with you?” She questions with a defeated sigh. You know she hates seeing the mighty woman you once were, turned into a frail shell of the woman she used to be.

It’s on the tip of your tongue, and you desperately want to spill everything that Nate has done to you, but like some kind of fucked up joke. Your eyes gaze past Maria and you see Nate walking towards you, and he has the smug face he does when he knows you’re thrown off by his actions.Taking in his appearance in utter horror, you notice his brown carhartt jacket and black jeans are drenched in dried blood, and he has a patch of gauze with blood soaking through taped to his neck - he looks like absolute hell.

Maria turns around to see what you’re terrified of, and when she finds Nate walking closer, she puts two and two together in her head.

“Tommy?” She asks from her chair with a sudden change in her tone.

“Putting the horses away, he let me go early to come see my girl today,” he smoothly coos, waiting for you to stand up for him. And without a second thought, you do just that. Hi baby, you hum into his chest. As scared as you just were seeing him again with no warning, that feeling is quickly washed away in a tidal wave created by his familiar smell and touch.

You open your eyes and are met with Maria’s, her face is plastered with an oh, my poor girl kind of look, you smile softly to her as if to tell her, it’s okay. She gives an unconvincing nod as she excuses herself to go see Tommy, and you and Nate give her a quick wave goodbye as she turns her back and walks towards the stables. Now that swallowing feeling of the unknown is jumping in your chest, and you don’t know what to expect from him.

“Let’s go home.” Nate demands as he slides his hand around the curve of your hip, and without any reluctance, you walk side by side with him all the way to the beautiful farm house where you live - the one that doesn’t feel like home.

—

“What happened to your neck?” You hesitate to ask as you close the front door behind your uneasy body, kicking off your boots. You hear him scoff as he walks over and grabs a small glass from the cabinet above the liquor and grabs a bottle of whiskey, pours the glass half full with the brown liquid, and sighs as he slides his blood-soaked coat off of his shoulders and hangs it up on the coat rack next to him.

You’re now to the right of him, about ten feet, hesitantly sitting on the couch, the very seat where he attacked you and your baby. You have a new puzzle on the clear glass table - it’s your safe hobby, the peace your soul receives from figuring out difficult puzzles is incredibly satisfying and comforting. Silence fills the room and without Nate even saying anything, you can feel the tension in the air switch like Jekyll & Hyde.

The way he takes the swig of whiskey and slams the glass back onto the granite countertop, almost shattering the glass, causes your body to jump from the sound. He fills the glass another time and repeats the aggressive action, your mind thinking of different ways to change the atmosphere at least a little bit. But consider the fact that you can’t even ask a simple question anymore, you might as well just be a rag doll for him. But who are you kidding? You already are.

All of a sudden, you notice his hand holding the empty glass in a different position. No way, you think, but before you know it, he’s turning his body to face you, winds back his arm and chucks the glistening glass at you. You duck your head between your thighs and scream as you hear the sound of shards scattering throughout your living room as it hits the wall behind you.

“What did you tell her?” Nate grits through his teeth, and you pick your head up and stare at him. He is boiling with rage, his ears and chest are red like a tomato and his chest heaving. You’re honestly shocked he hasn’t put his hands on you yet.

“Dumbass, what did you tell her?” Echoes in the living room. “Nothing!” You yell back, standing up to him for the first time in years. He doesn’t like that, now standing right in front of you, staring down at you, waiting for you to back down. It doesn’t come, you’ve had enough, and you’re not gonna allow him to do this to you anymore.

“Really?” His demeanor changes after he questions you, and if he doesn’t like your answer, he will hit you.

“Told her nothing. But maybe I should.” You snarl back with a slight smirk on your face. You’ve loved when you could throw him off his pedestal just a little bit, even with some of the repercussions that come afterwards. But now, after making up your mind, you have become confident in yourself - not as much as before, but it’s a start.

You don’t even see him wind his hand back, but all of a sudden an overbearing pain shoots into your gut. Your body folds in on itself, chest heaving for air of any kind to grasp onto, and your eyes dart to the cause of this excruciating pain. Your mind is blown when you see Nate’s left hand with his black wedding band. Your lungs have no air for a minute as you gasp over and over, your back on the floor, the same exact spot.

“Good luck leaving, whore,” he spits and walks away from your convulsing body on the living room floor. The creaking of the floorboards on the steps ring through your ears, followed by the slamming of the bedroom door, and then, silence.

You’re curled up into a ball on the same white shag rug, more or less for the same reason as before - Nate, your husband. The tears begin to pour out of your eyes, as do some wails, but they’re silenced by your sleeves covering your mouth. The pain in your stomach is unbearable, it has you rocking your body in little movements to try to make it go away - the feeling of death creeps into your peripheral but is quickly swept away.

“Good luck leaving, whore,” in his spiteful voice repeats throughout your thoughts. What did he mean by that? Can you leave? What did you get yourself into? Why didn’t you just shut up? Why can’t there be someone to help you? Your body and brain are going in loops between getting up and never looking back, and waiting till tomorrow to see what he does.

He just was gone for a month on patrol, and that’s why he’s stressed out, right?

Right?

[drama-glob]

Come Around Here Often?

Fizz and Ozzie go out to a club in disguise.

“You going to drink those by yourself or saving them for some lucky, loose demon?” he salaciously quipped as he quickly mixed and poured them for Fizz.

“He’s looser than you, that’s for sure,” Fizz slyly retorted with a toothy grin, earning him a wide-eyed expression from the other before he went to tend to someone else. The cybernetic imp gave a little snicker, followed by sipping on his fruity drink. While the music kept thumping, he started to tap his foot to the beat until he felt a finger delicately run along his tail. Straightening up with a start, he turned to find the demon responsible and instantly felt relief wash over him when he saw who it was.

It of course was Ozzie, although one couldn’t tell unless they knew of his magical abilities and other forms, which Fizz did (although the biggest indicator for him was always the Deadly Sin’s eyes). For tonight’s illusion, Asmodeus looked like a well-toned male imp who was a hair taller than his boyfriend. He had short, curved black and white horns, digitigrade legs, white scars on both sides of his neck that could be seen as love bites, a red, black and white-striped tail, and yellow eyes with acid-green irises. For his outfit, he went minimal with wearing a black choker with a red heart pendant, a leather vest and tight shorts that went mid-thigh.

Here is the link on AO3:

@charsawdeath @enbydemirainbowbigfoot @pastaprincess @my-dark-lord Time for a night out on the town. ;) ^_^

[insomniac-dot-ink]

The Sister's Waverly and the Tidepools

The thing showed up on the beach when Brin was only small. Globular and wet like a jellyfish, shining from the inside out like a star, broken up with a spine in too many places to count. Brin found it there and placed her hand in the tidepool, cradling the creature’s cheek like she’d seen her sister do to sick farm animals. It blinked and blinked, unable to rise, and she blinked back until someone tore Brin back all at once.

“What are you doing?” her eldest sister growled and shook her. “Do you know what time it is?” Brin let out a small wail and Lori held her close. “Hush. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. What is that thing?”

Brin only shook her head. The creature blinked and blinked and her sister gnawed on her lower lip, avoiding its eyes. Loir gently examined Brin’s small hand, turning it over and over in place. The tips of her fingers had turned blue and fingernails loosened. 

“Nothing permanent. I think,” she muttered and furrowed her brow. The color returned to Brin’s hands and her eldest sister sighed, still not looking at it, “I suppose I’ll tell the others.”

Waverly, the second oldest, was still awake and standing near the beach. She offered to get a shovel. Del was in bed but not sleeping and Etta appeared like a mirage from the attic. Tidying, she said, or something of the like. 

Del cried when she heard about a monster on the beach. Waverly held the shovel high, threatening to bury it. The eldest, Lori, marched them all out just before dawn and they all took note. 

“Does it talk?” asked Del, whimpering.

“Will it die?” said Waverly.

And Lori grabbed fistfuls of her own hair and yanked. “No one else is around for miles. I have a bad feeling. Where is Etta?”

“Right here.” Etta bent down, though she didn't touch the creature. “I’ve heard of this sort of thing. But only in Sugar Tales. The Brother’s something . . .”

Del nearly fainted, “this can’t end well.”

Brin watched on in awe, tingling down her own unbroken spine and unblinking. It was nice to see them all together, somehow. Though they argued over who should run for help–they couldn’t agree on who was fastest or loudest. Was it Lori that could drive a car or Waverly? Del brought up how she had the loveliest voice and they all went to rolling their eyes.

It was, of course, the middling daughter Etta that pointed at the stony ground. “What is that in the other tidepools?”

Brin tripped over her own feet to peak into the nearest puddle and lit up. Ah. So it seemed even angels fell like everyone else, splattering about. Scattered in the pools were white chalky shapes and dark glinting bits. Brin placed them immediately. “It’s from the angel!” she piped up.

“It’s not an angel,” Lori snapped and then drew a deep breath. 

“I don’t think it’s a demon either,” Waverly said, carefully, in almost-good-humor. 

“Whatever it is,” Etta finished the thought, “it’ll probably need these back.”

They went, the daughters of the Crescent Moon farm, from pool to pool. Gathering chunks of chalky white and strands of silver-gray, seashells with strange pink insides and acid-green coral. Shining rainbow scales and bits of glassy black that reminded Brin of deadened teeth or volcanic glass. 

The angel, the demon, the thing washed up on their beach seemed happy when the long hair and dark teeth and bits of light were poured into its resting place. The spines slowly unbent and it pushes itself up on arms made of black.

“Don’t look.” Lori covered Brin’s eyes, though everything that would be done already had. Brin pushed her sister’s hand aside at the last moment. The scaled wings spread from the creature’s back, scaly and webbed, and a smile spread across its face so wide Brin had to hold her breath. 

It lifted off the ground in a burst of light and was gone in a heartbeat. The light of it shone past the horizon in a way that rivaled the sun. They all exhaled, the girls of the Crescent Moon Farm, and then frowned. Looking at our hands, examining our fingertips and wondering allowed.

“Where is Del?” Though, that wasn’t the right question. Del was right there. “Where is Brin?” That wasn’t quite right either. It was only once the delivery boy came, carrying their morning milk and eggs, did they see.

“Hello there little one, are you visiting your cousins?” he cooed to the small child, “you look so alike!”

“No, no, I am Brin. Brin.”

The delivery boy only arched a brow and then his expression fell as two more sisters exited the house and then three. Five of them lined up, hungry after a long night, and stared on. The delivery boy dropped his pail of milk and ran. For, of course, there were only two sisters of Crescent Moon Farm, a tiny place left by two dead parents to Brindle Waverly and her sister Loretta.

And maybe angel’s grant wishes, to be less alone, or demons grant horrors of never knowing who you are. If you were Brindle or Loretta or bits of both, scattered from the tidepools before dawn, split into someone entirely new in the wake of the broken god.

FIN

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

Twisted Wonderland Kaiju!AU: The Awakening

Hello my lovelies~!

As promised, here is the new AU I hinted at! It took me a while to process how I wanted to approach the AU as I wanted to make sure it had a clear storyline and do a little worldbuilding so it'll be enjoyable to everyone else. I didn't want to rush into it and then burnout or lose interest in it, so that's why I held off on it.

To the anon who had asked about it before, I want to thank you for bringing this possibility up to me. I know it took a while and you had a lot of ideas and questions or suggestions, I wanted to make sure I even could think of an idea to incorporate or answer them with. If you're still around, I hope you'll send in some asks. ;;v;;

I'll post some rules in a bit, but in the meantime, hope you guys enjoy this opening!

EDIT 1-28-2023: Put it under a read more so it's easier to scroll through on the main page!

/////////

Beep...

Boop...

Beep...

It was to the soft beeps and rushing waves that Yuu awoke, groaning in pain as they pushed themselves up from the soft sand. Through a cloud of haze they looked around in confusion and slowly growing panic. Where were they? Why were they on a beach? How--how did they get here? What's going on?! Why-

Why couldn't they remember?

Boop-beep!

"Ah!" they yelped, staring at their feet and noticing the strange metal bracelet wrapped around one of their ankles. The light blinked as the bracelet beeped once more before growing silent, the only sign of it being active being the now softly growing light. The moment they reached out to try and remove the device, however, they felt no seam or latch. "Come on, come on...augh! Why won't you come off?!"

No matter how much they tugged and pulled, they couldn't free themselves and were forced to stop to avoid hurting themselves. Taking a moment to get their breathing under control, they paused to think. Panicking wouldn't solve anything, and they couldn't stay in place on an unknown beach. They had to figure out where they were and--if there was anyone around--they had to get moving. Perhaps they might be able to find some clues...

 ----

...well, they found their first clue. They hadn't expected to stumble across a ship.

A ship graveyard to be exact.

For as far as the eye could see, ships of all shapes and sizes covered the beach and shoreline. What once were sturdy and powerful ancient vessels designed to brave the harsh seas now lay broken and battered, their hulls barely holding any semblance of their origins. Viking, Egyptian, Roman, Greek…scores of ships from multiple cultures lay scattered like broken toys, the wooden frames towering over them making Yuu imagine them being the bones of a beast.

Peering inside the gap in the side of what seemed to be a trade ship, Yuu was stunned to see scores of goods: herbs, spices, furs, silks…all strangely well preserved even in the broken jars and barrels. Investigating the next ship—which was next to what looked very much like a pirate ship—they caught a glimpse of piles of gold, jewels, statues, and even weapons…all untouched. There wasn’t even anything inside the pirate ship itself. What could have possibly done all this to ships? And…

……wait, is that an airplane wing???

Carefully maneuvering around the fragments and trotting along the beach, they found themselves now in the middle of a metal jungle of torn and mangled ships, submarines, and airplanes. Some bore deep gashes along their sides, others scorched and melted as if by fire or acid, and others…

“W-what…did this?” Yuu uttered, a wave of cold fear washing over them as they gazed up at the remains of a plane. The parts of the plane were impaled on a massive cluster of ebony crystals, a noxious green glow pulsing within the stone and an eerie black mist billowing out from the base. The mere sight of this made them back away, wary of even touching it. This…wasn’t a natural formation, and there was no creature alive capable of causing so much destruction.

……right?

Eventually, after realizing that there was nothing jogging their memory, they began following the tree line. If they could find a source of fresh water, they could set up a temporary base camp with shelter and gather food for the night…easy!...or so they thought. Tilting their head back to gaze up, they felt a new wave of unease and discomfort. Why were the trees and the leaves so…big? They loomed taller than any building they had ever seen, and although they couldn’t see the crown of the trees, they could just make out some of the fruit they bore. “Is…is that a banana?” Yuu uttered, straining to see the outline and color of the cluster. “Are those things seriously the size of a bus?!”

A ship graveyard, giant trees, impossibly huge food…they were beginning to wonder if they were dreaming they had shrunk or if they were even on the same planet anymore! Yet…out of all the wreckage they had seen, it was all clearly human. They couldn’t be the only survivor, right? There had to be at least one or two—maybe even a handful of people somewhere on the island! They just had to figure out where they could possibly b-

“Ah!?” came the startled squeak and squawk when their foot slipped, sending Yuu sliding and tumbling over the edge and into a hidden grotto before landing with a heavy ‘thud’. Groaning, Yuu managed to push themselves back to their feet using the dirt wall for support. “Ow…what just happened?”

“Unidentified DNA signature detected,” a mechanical voice spoke next to them, Yuu jumping away from the wall with a yelp. A panel opened, a red beam of light emerging from the scanner and passing over their body. “Facial recognition acquired…analysis complete. No staff record on file. Please state your name.”

“…uhm…Yuu?”

“Name accepted. Creating temporary visitor profile…”

Staff record? Visitor profile??

Chk! Tssss…

 “Welcome ‘Uhm Yuu’. Please report to the main office for briefing and to receive your permanent staff badge,” the mechanical voice spoke again as the stone wall slid aside, revealing a long empty corridor with bright lights. “Access to lab facilities will be limited without the Multi Information Record Assistant. Please ensure proper protocol when storing collection samples and proceed through the decontamination and hazard chamber. Have a nice day.”

Labs? Decontamination? Hazards???

“What is this place?” Yuu muttered aloud, cautiously venturing into the hallway.

It was…strangely empty. Through the windows they could see various types of equipment and tools, some familiar and some not. High tech computers and monitors displayed streams of data and images of what looked like caricatures of animals—or at least something animal-like anyway. Strangely enough, one monitor looked more like a vanity mirror than anything else, bearing a large crack on the surface as green flames flickered in and out of the depths. Perhaps the most disturbing thing about these rooms, however, was not the fact that there was no one here, but that there had been clear signs of a struggle.

They shuddered and averted their eyes, trying to shake the image of the destruction inside and skirting away from the door with a red handprint streaking down the small window.

Whatever had happened in this place, it was clear that it had been abandoned. The only comforting sound was the low hum of machines filling the silence, though they couldn’t shake the feeling of unease as they found an open door leading into a bigger room and cautiously venturing in. Almost immediately they spotted the rows upon rows of glass tubes, the orange-yellow liquid obscuring the dark shapes floating inside that looked vaguely humanoid or animalistic. The lights were dim, providing just enough light to avoid tripping on cables and avoiding the large puddle of pinkish-red liquid near one of the workstations. It resembled a lab, yet there seemed to be very little equipment aside from the tanks and machines keeping them running.

As they ventured closer to one to view the monitor—which had a flat green light on the glitching screen—a yelp escaped them the moment something collided against their foot and skittered away. They sighed, relieved to see that it was a piece of metal…or rather, a thick bracer with what looked like a screen on one side. It didn’t look like anything they’d ever seen before—more like something from a sci-fi movie. Was this some kid’s toy or something?

“What is this thing?” they uttered, reaching out to poke at it. Just before they could touch it, however, the screen flickered to life—before the metal band jumped onto their arm!!! “Wah!?!” they shrieked, wildly shaking their arm and stumbling backwards. Their foot stepped in something and they slipped, falling into the pink-red puddle of liquid and gagging at the smell of musty and bitter odor and the sticky sensation against their skin. Staring at their new ‘accessory’, they shook off a bit of the goo and uttered, “What…the hell is this thing?!”

Right before their eyes the screen flickered and gave a decisive ‘beep!’ before a strange female voice spoke and said, “Greetings. Please state your name to begin computer reassignment.”

“…ah…Y-Yuu?”

“Acknowledged. Searching…user profile not found. Searching…temporary visitor profile located. Generating official profile…new user ‘Uhm Yuu’ accepted.” The screen glitched, flickering a bright green as it screeched, “ERROR! ERROR! Virus detected. Rebooting in safe mode.” It went dark for a moment, coming back online before the voice spoke once more. “Activating backup protocol Zeta-D510. Welcome, Yuu. What would you like to know?”

Not sure if they were dreaming or not, Yuu asked, “What are you? And-” examining the bracer, they couldn’t find a seam and asked, “why did you latch onto me like that? How-? Are you alive?”

“Negative. I am an artificial intelligent tool known as a Multi Information Record Assistant,” the device said. “As my previous owner did, you may call me MIRA.” It was silent for a second before it said, “My sensors indicate an increase in heart rate and elevated levels of stress and anxiety. Are you feeling well?”

“…no. Right now, I am really trying not to freak out, so please keep talking!”

“Understood. As a Multi Information Record Assistant, MIRAs are designed with thermal sensors to seek out the nearest human body in case of separation—it was not my directive to cause distress. My directive is to serve as a personal assistant to Dr. Amity Willows for the duration of her mission, monitoring her health and well-being and recording her research and video logs. Once the reports have been completed, the research will be sent up to the Dark Mirror Server for record keeping. Should you have any questions, I will answer them accordingly. Is there anything else I can assist with?”

Research mission? Did they wake up in another reality where technology has advanced to such a degree that it borders Sci-Fi?!

The musty and bitter smell hit their nose again, reminding them of where they were sitting as they quickly stood and asked, “Can you tell me what the hell I just landed in?” Dawning horror clutched their chest as they added, “Please tell me it’s not acid!”

“Scanning…” A thin blue light emerged from the device, the beam spreading and panning from their head down to the pool at their feet before disappearing. “Scan complete. Analysis shows that the liquid substance is not acidic or toxic in nature. Detecting high concentrations of pheromones of an unknown creature. According to my data archives, the solution is an experimental serum created by the researchers with the intent to mimic the scent of young infant creatures local to the area.”

“What for?” they asked. “What are they trying to do with this goo?”

“The serum was designed to allow the research teams to venture close to the local fauna with minimal risk of attack. However, I am unable to locate any test results. Cannot confirm effectiveness.”

“So…it’s not toxic?”

“Negative.”

“…how long ago was it made?”

“Approximately three days ago.”

Yuu frowned. Three days…this whole lab was completely deserted, and based on the crimson staining some of the walls and ground, it was clear that something dangerous had torn through here. What creature could cause so much chaos? And…was it still lurking somewhere nearby?

BWEEP! BWEEP! BWEEP! BWEEP!

The lights in the room began to flash red and blue, the bracer beginning to shriek with the alarms in the ceiling that beeped urgently, growing louder and louder as they tried to figure out what was happening. That’s when MIRA began to speak again: “Warning! Warning! Unidentified threat detected within proximity!”

“Threat? What threat?!” Yuu asked, looking around for the source as they backed up towards the wall.

When something pressed against their back they froze, realizing that it wasn’t hard like a table and yet…they felt something hot flare against their skin that sent chills down their spine. A low, rattling ‘hissss’-ing sound filled the air, their blood running cold as they slowly turned their head…

And saw a large pair of bright, cerulean blue eyes staring back at them from a feline-like face.

Somewhere in the back of their mind, Yuu could hear the voice of reason warning them not to make any sudden movements, to not scream and run. Sound advice…for normal animals. In this case though—

“AAAAAAAAAAAA-!!!”

—it was perfectly understandable for them to do both as they bolted for the door, jumping over the puddle of goo and glass shards. The creature hissed even louder before they heard it give chase, Yuu hearing a squeak and a crash like someone slipping on the floor before the monster continued after them. Their bare feet just barely managed to keep from slipping on the smooth surface. Behind them they heard the creature slam into the doorframe, its claws making the metal shriek before its loud footsteps continued the chase close behind them.

They could barely get through the front door fast enough as it finally opened, all but launching themselves outside. A quick scan of the area, they saw no way to reach the tree line without having to climb up a wall and—on hearing the creature crashing through the hallway towards the exit—they bolted for the only clear path: deeper into the island. Their lungs burned as they ran, spurred on by pure adrenaline and terror as the creature snarled behind them. They had to get away—had to find a safe spot away from this thing! They—

Found a dead end.

“Are you kidding me?!” Yuu gasped, patting the stone wall in search of any other hidden panel. If there was one before, surely there’d be another, right?!

“Sssssssss…”

Whirling around, Yuu found themselves cornered against the wall as they finally got a look at what had been chasing them. Its face and body were feline-like, yet the cyan blue flames in its ears were unlike anything they’d ever seen while tendrils around its shoulders waved menacingly with the glistening dagger-like protrusions at the ends. The tail tapered off at the end with a trident-like prong, small flames flickering in and out of existence along the scales. A bit of the pink-red liquid from earlier dripped from its chin, indicating that it had fallen into the same puddle from earlier. This wasn’t an animal…

It was a monster!

“Warning! Warning! Unidentified threat inbound!” MIRA announced again, the monster’s eyes darting to Yuu’s wrist as its flaming ears twitched. “Seek the nearest safe zone immediately!”

“Where?! I’m literally trapped here!” Yuu said with a hiss, shrinking back as the monster took another step closer to them. Was this how they were going to die…? Getting eaten by a giant mutant cat-weasel thing?!

The monster’s jaw opened, revealing dagger-sharp fangs—before it stopped, its ears immediately pulling back as it turned its gaze to the side and shrank to the ground with its tail tucked in close. It hissed, making a nervous snarling sound just before darkness fell over them—

Or rather, a shadow fell over them.

Slowly Yuu turned to look in the same direction, tilting their head up…up…up…until they were staring at a mass of black and blue-green feathers, a pair of massive wings hovering behind the creature’s back cloaking it in shadow. Glowing golden-amber eyes gazed down at them from a beak, wicked golden talons digging into the stone where it sat as a low, rumbling warble escaped it. Yuu’s heart was beating wildly in their ribcage as the new monster lowered its head towards the two, the wind buffeting them as it sniffed nearly knocking Yuu off their feet. Glowing amber eyes grew wide, then—

“TSEEEEEEEEEEEEER!!!”

“Gah!!” Yuu yelped, covering their ears from the piercing shriek that escaped the monster as it reared back, flaring its wings out wide in what was clearly a threat display. In the light they could now see a smaller pair of arms protruding from the feathers of the creature’s chest, both of which reached out to them and—in one fell swoop—snared Yuu and the much smaller monster in its talons as they both shrieked in panic.

Before their vision was covered by the feathers, Yuu spotted a strange form ducking around the wall, catching a glimpse of something…human…before the monster’s wings blocked all light around them.

With the only source of light being the smaller monster’s flames, Yuu could feel the creature carrying them moving, feeling like they were on some demented rollercoaster and bus ride as the wind howled outside. Looking down at MIRA—the only source of communication they had—Yuu cried out, “MIRA! What’s going on?!”

There was a ding before MIRA began to speak. “Answer: I am unable to determine the intent of your current situation. Please try again later. What would you like to know?”

“Not helpful!!”

“I’m sorry. Please rephrase your question.”

“Where is this giant monster taking us?!”

“Acknowledged. According to my sensors and location tracker, it appears that you are being taken deeper into the heart of the island.”

“What? Deeper into the island?” they repeated, the smaller feline monster chirping in response as it huddled close to them “Is it going to eat us?!”

“Cannot confirm.”

“I thought you knew everything??”

“Negative. I never claimed to know everything. I merely stated I will answer questions accordingly. What would you like to know?”

Yuu stared at the bracer’s screen. Did…did this minicomputer just sass them?

“Tssssssrrrr…”

Before they could react, the wings had moved away to reveal the blinding light, Yuu gasping as the taloned hand holding them and the smaller monster lowered them…into a pile of branches and leaves? Wait…no, it was a nest. A big nest with high walls. The smaller monster growled and warbled, jumping to try and climb out—and squawking when the much larger monster nudged it back into the nest with its beak. Then, it turned its glowing amber eyes towards Yuu and stared, tilting its head curiously. From this angle Yuu could make out the frame of its body, noting how its body closely resembled a gryphon…minus the additional appendages like the arms on its chest.

With a blink, it turned away from the nest and Yuu could hear the giant monster rummaging around out of view. Then, it turned back with a large hunk of flesh in its beak and dropped it close to Yuu and the smaller monster, settling back on its hind legs to watch them. The feline-like creature sniffed at the meat for a moment before taking a big bite out of it, tearing off chunks and gulping them down before going for another piece. Yuu, however, backed away and stared up at their watchful ‘host’.

Did it expect them to eat…whatever this thing had once been too? Was it…trying to feed them?

Tilting its head again, a low rumble rose from the monster’s chest as it turned away again. After more shuffling, it returned and—with its smaller arms—began to lay out several massive pieces of fruit that towered over them. Some they recognized while others were unfamiliar, yet they could smell the sweet aroma of the ‘small’ pile of fruits and berries surrounding them to the point the smaller monster even paused to sniff it.

“MIRA?” they uttered. “What’s going on here?”

“Analyzing…the serum from the lab appears to have altered your biological scent to resemble that of young from the local fauna. Nevermore has taken an interest in you and Grimfang.”

“Wait…Nevermore…Grimfang? You recognize these two??” The two monsters looked up at the mention of those names, as though they somehow…understood them. Did they recognize them as their names?

“Yes. Codename: ‘Nevermore’ is a unique caretaker species regarding his behavior, seeking out young and orphaned hatchlings and bringing them to his nest to raise as his own. While not the only one observed behaving in such a manner, he has not done so in the past two years. It would appear that Nevermore currently sees you and Grimfang as his own brood. I do not have further information on the behavior of Grimfang to make an effective analysis. The information available is classified and only accessible through a password set by the previous owner.”

“……so, you’re basically saying that I just got adopted by a giant bird-lizard monster thing?”

“That is correct.”

For a moment they didn’t know what to say…only to jump when ‘Nevermore’ snorted and hissed at them, one of the smaller hands reaching out to grab one of the fruits—an apple?—and using his claws to rip it in half before carefully laying the halves next to them. Glancing between the apple and Nevermore’s expectant stare, they decided not to test his patience as they reached out try and take a bite…and found the flavor bursting in their mouth to be unlike anything they’d ever had before!

“This is the best apple I’ve ever had!” Yuu said in amazement, scooping out another handful and digging in as they finally realized just how hungry they were. Out of the corner of their eye they saw Nevermore looking pleased as he settled down to watch, though how he managed to look like he was smiling with a beak Yuu would never know. Through a mouthful of food, they asked, “Why’s all the food so big, MIRA?”

“The constitution of the island’s soil is filled with rich nutrients that create a suitable environment for producing larger than normal harvests even from seeds planted from the mainland. The size of the fruit and berries can reach sizes well over a hundred times their original constitution. As a result, the harvests are scientifically far more nutritious in vitamins and minerals compared to those grown in their native environment. If it has a seed or can be grown, it is very likely to be found somewhere on the island.”

Giant monsters, giant fruit, research facilities…just what kind of place was this? And why hadn’t they heard anything about this island back home?

……come to think of it, where even was home? They felt as though they should have a home…somewhere���yet no matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t recall a thing. They could faintly recall some faces, but as for anything clear—let alone names—nothing stuck out to them. Just what had happened before they woke up on the beach with that ankle brace?

‘Maybe MIRA will know something?’ they thought to themselves, digging into one of the berries and continuing to eat. When was the last time they’d even had a meal?

By the time they’d had their fill, they’d hardly made much of a dent in the giant food. As delicious as it was though, they couldn’t eat anymore—a fact that Nevermore seemed content with as the behemoth’s small arms began to clear away the leftover food, tossing them into his beak and swallowing the pieces whole. Yuu glanced over at Grimfang and found him lying on his back, purring in content with a distended belly and not a scrap of the meat to be found.

“Whoa!!” they yelped as Nevermore’s arms reached out and scooped them both up again, the giant’s forelegs clawing at the nest for a moment before settling down with them nestled close to his chest. A low thrum from his chest rattled them to the bone, though it wasn’t unpleasant. Just…strange.

Was…was Nevermore nesting?!

“Um…MIRA?”

“Greetings, Uhm Yuu. What would you like to know?”

“Just what kind of monster are these two?” they asked.

“Nevermore and Grimfang belong to two different categories of local fauna, yet they are technically of the same genus. The researchers have taken to calling them by the same species when generally referring to them, separating them based on category rather than subspecies or type.”

“That doesn’t exactly answer my question if you don’t tell me,” Yuu grumbled, struggling to adjust themselves against the wall of soft feathers.

“You may call them: kaiju.”

 ////

[MIRA is now open for questions. What would you like to know?]

[radiowallet]

Taste

Main Masterlist II Marcus Moreno Masterlist

I do not use a taglist. Follow @radiowallet-writes and turn on notifications for updates.

Summary: Marcus uses his powers to help you feel better. Pairing: Marcus Moreno x f!reader WC: 3.2K Warnings: Mature 18+ MDNI Period sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex (female receiving), talk of blood, blood kink, loose rules surrounding super powers and metal manipulation. Hurt/Comfort. Established relationship. A/N: Unbeta'd and living on the edge! I've been rolling this idea around in my head, especially the more time I spend thinking about Marcus's powers as a whole. Big huge dedication to @magpie-to-the-morning. Love you, my pumpkin wife.

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Marcus lets himself in quietly, taking note of your apartment as he closes the front door gently behind him. It’s dark, your curtains closed against the yellow glow of streetlights, covering everything in shades of ink black. A sharp cut of green light from the digital numbers on your microwave filters out of the kitchen, not nearly enough to see by, but startling nonetheless. He doesn’t bother reaching for the light switch, preferring instead to make his way through the shadows with the help of his other senses. 

The only sound he hears at first is his own breathing, but with each second that ticks by, Marcus is met with the little bits and pieces of your presence. The radiator clangs and clings as it pumps a comfortable heat into the apartment, still finding its footing after a long summer without use. Heavy footfall sounds from up above; your noisy neighbor flitting around as they prepare for a night out. And behind your firmly closed bedroom door, small moans and muffled tears – you’re in pain. 

The carpet gives softly beneath his feet, shoes slipped off at the door, his slow steps leading him down the hall and closer to you. Thick fingers loosen his tie with measured practice, the silk slipping easily from around his neck, one, two, three buttons popped free right after. He can smell the faintest tinge of ginger in the air, the warm burn mingling with the sting of gas from your stove, and without even looking Marcus knows he’d find your tea kettle still cooling in the kitchen, a mug of half-finished tea in the sink.

You had alluded to a headache, complaining between jokes and a wave of your hand when the two of you met up for lunch earlier in the day, never one to want him to worry. You had kissed him chastely on the cheek and apologized for breaking your dinner plans, leaving early for the day to rest. Marcus had watched you go with only the smallest of frowns, taking in your stiff legs, your pinched shoulders, and the way your hand rubbed not so subtly at your lower back. 

He had only been guessing then, a haphazard assumption laced with his own anxiety holding him back from asking outright. But now he was certain; here, alone in your apartment, just the two of you, the sterile white-washed walls of the Heroics headquarters left far behind. 

He knows it’s no headache.

Marcus swallows, just once, his entire throat shifting up then down with the force of it. He can taste it. 

Taste you. 

Acidic and sharp, biting at the tip of his tongue. A flavor he is intimate with, his powers bringing the copper colored burn of iron to the forefront of his taste buds. It’s a piece of himself easily ignored most days; always preferring the feel of cool metal in his hands as opposed to the hot thrum of blood in another’s veins. But when he closes his eyes with focused intent it’s there, just below the surface – the beat of a stranger’s heart, a bruise blossoming on a criminal’s cheek, the pulse of blood as it clots inside you.

Each and every nerve ending is alight with pleasure, his fingers twitching in search of release, a magnetic pull that keeps him moving, always moving, towards you. 

He pushes into your bedroom just as gently as he did your front door, calling your name in a hush, desperate not to startle you. The covers move, only slightly, the whites of your eyes peeking out amongst the darkness, his name tumbling from your lips. He crosses to you in three steps, kneeling down beside your bed, one large palm cupping the swell of your cheek. 

Closer now, he can see how you’ve swapped your stiff office clothes for a loose tank top, bare arms wrapped tightly around your middle. Out of the corner of his eye he spots a bottle of tylenol and a glass of water on your small bedside table, and by his feet, a heating pad, pushed to the floor, seemingly in frustration. 

“Hurts,” is all you manage to say before your eyes stitch shut, another groan curling your body in and away from Marcus’s touch. 

He shushes you, leaning in to press his lips to the hinge of your jaw, his nose breathing in the heat of your skin. He inhales, deep and quick, holding the taste of you inside his mouth, burning iron rushing hot and needy inside him. It’s intoxicating, his mouth watering at the imagined feel of you on his tongue. He swallows hard, keeping his own moan from slipping past his lips, breathy and full and wanting for more. Your scent overwhelms and overtakes, saturating his senses with the familiar shape of liquid iron stinging at the tip of his tongue. He kisses you, a hard press of his lips on yours, in a small attempt to quell his hunger but the salt spit taste of you only seems to spur him on.

“Marcus,” you whine, neck craning towards him even as the rest of you pulls away. “S’not a headache.”

You whisper the admission into the crease of his kiss, and even if you had been the picture of health, he still wouldn’t have the heart to call you on the lie. He smooths one hand up the back of your neck, rubbing circles, persistent and smooth into your clenched muscles until finally he feels them start to loosen. 

“How can I help?”

Your nod is slight, barely seen in the dark of your room, your answer a hushed beg. Hold me. 

He strips down to just his briefs, glasses discarded on your bedside table, before joining you beneath the covers, your back pressed firmly to his front. He slowly drags his hand down the length of your torso, squeezing at your hip once, before sliding his palm beneath your tank top and letting it rest against the bare skin of your stomach. 

A shiver ripples through you, another groan of pain chasing after it, your body turning further in, knees curling up to meet your chest. You’re warm all over, tender and raw, limbs drawn tight and muscles tense. The smell of you fills Marcus whole, and the need to have you in every way grows stronger with each breath of you he pulls into his lungs. His cock is half-hard already, and when you push deeper into his embrace he knows you feel it too. 

Both of you still, and he stifles a grunt, the plush of his bottom lip worried between his teeth, trapping the spark of arousal in his throat. He wants to lean into this feeling. He wants to chase away the ache deeply seated inside you and sate the one burning in him. He wants to slide the pads of his fingers between your folds and feel the hum of his power. He wants to pull the dark red rust of iron away and replace it with the slick pool of your arousal. He wants to curl his tongue inside you; he wants to taste your copper tinged sweetness from the source. He wants to take your pain and twist and shape and fold it away with these gifts he’s been given. 

He wants to heal. Never hurt.

“I’m sorry,” Marcus chokes out, forehead falling forward, eyes slamming shut. 

He tries to cheat his hips back, guilt soaked embarrassment filling his gut, but you follow, chasing his warmth across your sheets, the curves of your body curling into him. He savors the feel of you, soft skin such a delicious contrast to cold steel. 

He flattens one large palm just below your belly button, soft waves of electricity warming his fingertips. The blood shifts and shapes inside you. He can feel it, see it, starting to flow, clots thinning, muscles loosening, your body sinking like lead into the mattress below. Your lips part around a sigh, relief pouring out of you and tracing the shadows wrapped around the room. The sound is sweet in his ears, his hips thrusting up to meet it before he can stop himself.

You sigh again, your voice quiet between breaths. “I’ve heard it can help.”

He hums in question, nose and lips finding the spot just behind your ear; a kiss placed gently to encourage.

And then, so softly, “Sex.”

He swallows around another groan, refusing to move, his fingertips still splayed out wide across your belly, keeping you close. 

“Do you,” a pause, brief, reluctant to push too hard. “Do you want to try?”

You turn your head away, neck straining with the effort of it, your words muffled into your pillow. Marcus doesn’t catch most of it, your voice caught between a laugh and a groan. He kisses your heated skin again and again, until finally you turn back to him just enough for him to hear one word.

Gross.

He moves quickly. A strike of lightning flipping up and over you, taking care to cradle you to him. He thrusts his cock up against your core with a deliberate slowness, letting you feel the rock-hard length of him, groaning loudly in time with your heavy gasp.

“You,” he grinds out, voice straining as he presses you down into the mattress with the weight of his hips, “are not gross.” 

“Never gross. Every inch of you is beautiful and perfect and this is a part of you,”he rambles, words pouring out of him between each kiss of his lips. “I could never think…not ever…Please, please,” he begs,” let me show you.” 

The whole of him finally stills, his forehead finding yours, his lips a breath away from one more kiss. You lock eyes in the dark, shadows of black and grey cutting across your features, and after what feels like minutes instead of seconds, you nod. 

Marcus grins, then hums, slipping out of bed and crossing over to your bathroom in three long steps. He comes back with a towel and helps you get comfortable on top of it, your clothes stripped away in the seconds he was gone. He settles back down beside you, his hand smoothing up and down your torso, taking care to start slow, sweet platitudes whispered into your ear. 

“If it hurts I’ll stop. I will, but I’ve wanted to do this since I got here. Wanted to make you feel good.” 

With each sweep of his hand he dips lower and lower, until finally he’s slipping his fingers between your legs, the muscles trembling from the light touch. He shushes you, breath fanning hot on your temple as he finally dips one finger between your folds. The blood catches along his touch, and the friction is almost too much, but Marcus moves slowly, dragging the pad of his finger up to your clit. 

Your body doesn’t respond at first, all of you pulled taut, your muscles coiled tightly around your anxiety. Marcus is patient, moving back and forth across your clit, savoring the feel of liquid iron coating his finger. He continues to whisper sweet adorations into the sweat of your skin, until finally he feels you melt into his side, your hips canting up in search of more friction. 

“That’s my girl,” he coos, unable to resist pressing a kiss to your temple along with his words. “I’m going to slide my finger inside you now, okay?”

You whine, the noise pushed through the clench of your teeth, your head bobbing in a helpless nod.

“Words,” he prompts, pressing down onto your clit, letting his powers vibrate, a steady thrum pulsing into you. 

“Yes,” you gasp, body jolting up and off the mattress. “Please.”

When he finally slips his finger up inside you it’s bliss, your cunt clenching tightly around him as fucks gently into your tender core. Blood and arousal ease his way, and soon enough he’s slipping in a second finger, brushing kisses along your cheek as he stretches you open. 

“You feel so good. Wet and warm and squeezing my fingers so tight. Do you feel it? Does it feel good, sweet girl?”

You nod, your mouth parting around your little cries of pleasure. Marcus is obsessed with them, drunk off the sound of you giving into his touch, slick release coating his fingers as pumps into you over and over. You clench tighter every time, pulling his fingers deep inside, and he swears he can feel each pulse of your heartbeat here buried between your legs. 

“Can you come, baby? Are you close?”

A breathy yes is all he hears, your eyes pinched shut, sweaty forehead finding the curve of his cheek as his final encouragement pushes you over the edge. Your body arches up and into his touch, a strangled cry of his name falling from your lips. 

“So good,” Marcus whispers. “You’re so good.”

He whispers it again and again, letting his words wash over you as he slips his fingers out of you, taking care to be as gentle as possible. Unable to stop himself, he brings his fingers to his lips, eager to finally have the smallest taste of you. He savors it, your rusted release coating his tongue. 

Beside him you curl in closer, your thigh trembling where you’ve hitched it along the jut of his hip, your core pressed tightly to his leg. Your lips are an insistent press to his shoulder, teeth scraping lightly across his bare skin.

“Felt good,” you admit, the word panted hot and wet into shoulder, and Marcus can’t help but groan in response. 

“Do you need to come again, baby? Did it help the cramps?” 

You nod again and Marcus feels himself sink, overwhelmed and overcome at how the touch of his hand was able to give you relief. It wasn’t something he ever thought possible, committed to a life of protection through violence, using the burn of his powers to pull apart buildings, to sink cold steel between ribs, to break and fight and scream all in the name of being a hero. 

He licks his lips and swallows back the sound of a sob, his palm finding the bare flesh of your hip, your blood pumping a steady beat in his ears and on his tongue. 

“Can I…can I taste you?” 

Your reply comes quickly, a yes breathed out between each kiss of your lips and Marcus takes care to move slowly. He follows the curves of your body, kissing up the swell of one breast then the other, taking care to suck gently at your nipples until each one is pebbled beneath his kiss. 

When Marcus finally settles between your legs you’re shaking, your hips shifting up and off the bed in search of the relief of his mouth. He shushes you, pushing you back down to the mattress with an urge for patience, settling between your legs with a satisfied grunt.

“I’ve got you, love. I promise,” he murmurs, eyes tracing the swollen lips of your pussy, admiring the way it glistens in the slip of moonlight creasing across your body. 

He leans in, letting the tip of his tongue trace along the seam of your sex, the taste of your release, honey sweet and familiar, assaulting his senses. And with it, something sharp, the acidic bite of blood that’s had him hard since he stepped over the threshold of your front door. He groans into your cunt, licking deep and collecting as much of you as he can, swallowing it down like a man starved. He can feel it thrumming in your veins, down inside your core, the very source of your discomfort.

It feels almost aggressive, the way Marcus laps at you, tongue dipping in and out of you before sliding up to circle your clit. He can feel the slick of your pleasure coating his beard, rust soaked spit dripping down his chin as he eats at you vigorously. He’s careful not to put too much pressure on your thighs, content to let the weight of them rest on top of his shoulders, instead spreading the lips of your pussy apart with his fingers. 

When he pulls back to catch his breath, to focus, he can see the effect he’s had on you, your cunt clenching around nothing, your body writhing back and forth, impatient for release. He tips his head forward, just barely, and circles your clit softly with the tip of his tongue and above him you sob. The sound sends him reeling, his already hard cock throbbing painfully where it’s trapped between him and the mattress. 

With no warning your fingers find the hair curling at the crown of his head and you pull with all of your might, burying his face back between your legs. He doubles his efforts then, licking between your folds again and again, the tip of his thumb circling around your clit. Everything blurs together; your taste, your sounds, your warmth. All of you surrounding him, drowning him, his own blood pumping loud inside his head. 

He chases his own release, fire burning brilliantly up and down his spine, his hips canting roughly into the tangle of towels and sheets. He can feel the precum leaking from the tip of his cock, the thick head catching along the rough cotton of his briefs. He resists the urge to reach down and stroke himself, content to focus on you and only you, the taste and feel of you better than any amount of pressure on his cock could be. He sucks and licks and nips at your folds, humming in satisfaction when he feels the telltale sign of your orgasm, your thighs clenching around his ears. And with one final press of his finger on your clit, his tongue carving deep inside you, you’re coming, a sob of his name painted across your ceiling.

Marcus works you through the waves of peak, licking every drop of you up, refusing to waste the taste of you. His hips keep moving, faster and faster, despite the tender way he handles you. The friction is too much too soon, and soon the familiar warmth of his own release is crashing into him, ropes of cum spilling out of him, soaking his underwear and sticking to his skin. He doesn’t care – fuck, he doesn’t care – rutting his cock as hard as he can into your mattress, desperate to make as big a mess as he can. 

When he finally stills, long enough to catch his breath and peer up at you from between your thighs, he sees the fruits of his labor. Your eyes are half-lidded, your body pulled pleasantly limp. The hand still buried in his curls tugs gently, a silent Thank you that he knows you mean with every single beat of your heart. He kisses the inside of your thigh, pressing a smile to the feverish heat of your flesh, a small yawn parting your lips in response.

“Do you need one more, baby? One more to help you sleep?”

Marcus doesn’t wait for an answer this time, leaning in to dip his tongue back between your wet folds as your legs fall open, your yawn breaking around a pleasant mewl, both of you eager for another taste. 

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[positivexcellence]

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@byamicole this black-owned brand is made in harlem, ny + inspired by senegal. the non-sticky, oil-to-gloss treatment made from baobab, camellia + passion fruit seed softens + nourishes.

@ogee the naturally tinted lip oil from this nsf-certified, organic + refillable skincare brand is made with cold-pressed jojoba oil + butters, peppermint oil, and vegetable-based volumizers. try camellia classic pink.

@hourglasscosmetics this nourishing avocado oil + shea butter gloss contains no gmos, nonoparticles, or sulfates + comes in 18 hues. the brand uses recycled materials + refillable packaging, plus 1% goes to @nonhuman.rights.project.

@tower28beauty try a “milky jelly.” the hydrating + moisturizing formula shines with all-natural ingredients like apricot kernel oil, castor seed oil, avocado oil, + raspberry seed oil, ensuring softly nourished lips.

@iliabeauty gliding on smooth, this plumping gloss is hyaluronic acid-based and owes its deepest hydration to salicornia (sea succulent). packed with nourishing botanicals like meadowfoam, vanilla, clementine + sunflower, the formula is cruelty-free, gluten-free + paraben-free.

@summerfridays this ethical brand avoids controversial additives in favor of natural vitamin e + 8 more vegan oils. nourishing, high-shine, and uber moisturizing, the hydrating formula combats dryness with buildable sheer color.

@goodlight.world Ok, this isn’t technically a gloss, but the taste of space milk is like serum for your lips + helps hold moisture. apply it pre-gloss for a smooth pucker.