#fuchsia is my vent word for good things

[savage-rhi]

Fuchgenta??

[muzanswaifu]

Give Me A Word

Tengen x Fem!Chubby!Reader

Sfw Warnings: Reader is self-conscious, Depressive Thoughts, Body Art, Praise and compliments, Modern AU

Nsfw Warnings: Smut, Sexy Dress, Cunnilingus, Groping, Multiple Orgasms, Creampie, Body Worship

I totally loved this prompt and wanted to use it as a vent sesh for my own insecurities tbh 😂

I wanted to further delve into my body insecurities that I’ve had recently in my work and hopefully help anyone who is also dealing with those problems right now. It’s so important to have self-love, but sometimes, getting some lovin’ from someone else can be just as special. The body art scene was based off a body positivity seminar that I went to last semester 👀 and as the model came out I was like... I’m keeping this in mind for later for sexy purposes

Tengen Uzui says love your body!

-

-

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Your paws kneaded at the plump flesh of your belly, pulling and pushing at it to expose your rib cage. You smiled weakly at your compact progress and bent down to pull up the rest of your slip.

It was the previous week during your shopping spree that your friends had found the thing, fawning over it and claiming it would look gorgeous on you. You were intrigued but hesitant, not liking the look of such skin-tight clothing on yourself when it exposed your every dip and curve. After they had noted that a certain man would love to see you all dolled up, you finally gave in just so they would shut up about it. Not because you actually wanted to know if he liked it. It was far more revealing than your usual get up, and he had always complained that you didn’t show off your “rocking tits” enough. ‘Such a pervert’ you chuckled.

You peeled the straps over your shoulders, taking one more moment of revise to fix your bosom so your breasts weren’t spilling over before looking in the mirror. You nearly gasped. It did look good. The slightly muted fuchsia hugged your curves quite nicely, and the slit up the side made a big show of your gorgeously thick thigh. Even the low neckline wasn’t too much and made your breasts pop out like melons. You looked like a fertility goddess in her prime, and the sight made you flush immediately.

But soon you really started to study yourself, eyes prying into the way your flesh pooled into the crevices. Was the fabric always so stretched? Or did you do that...? You bit your tongue when you saw the stretch marks exposed though the opening at your thigh and looked away before any tears could spill. Your lashes blinked away the heavy glaze, and you took purchase on the edge of the bed. It’s okay, it’s okay- practice the breathing exercises Uzui taught you when you panicked about your body image.

Breathe in. One. Two. Three. Breathe out. One. Two. Three.

You’re beautiful, you hear me? You’re my goddess.

Everything about you is perfect. My perfect flashy woman.

Y/N repeat that to me. Do it. Say ‘I’m a pretty girl’.

But he couldn’t actually mean all those things. He had to say them because he was your boyfriend. There was no way he could actually believe such lies when you were looking in the mirror right now at the body that years of toxic beliefs had taught you to hate. Soon, he would have to find you as horrible as you found yourself, surely.

A heavy sob was caught in your throat when the door burst open, revealing a sweaty, shirtless Tengen who bore a tight apron that hung off his rippling pectorals perfectly. But you didn’t have a moment to admire your gorgeous lover as you scrambled to cover yourself with the throw from your bed. “T-tengen!”

He smiled mischievously. “Aw babe, is that for me? You shouldn’t have. Or actually, yeah, you should - because I just got us food from Kanzaki’s!” he boomed proud of himself. You nervously laughed, and replied. “No, no, I was just... messing around, uhm - that sounds great! I’ll be down in a minute.” He eyed you curiously but turned away and went down the hall, throwing you one last glance over his shoulder before disappearing completely. You exhaled relieved and went to work pulling the thing off. So much for dressing up for him. 

At the table, you could hardly ate, picking at your food while Tengen ranted about his day at work and the gym.

“-n then I told him ‘dude, a rat could lift better than you’ leave the twenty-fivers for the beginners.” You shoveled some more rice around and acknowledged him with your eyes still glued to the plate. “Mhmm.”

He swallowed the meat in his mouth and set his utensils down. “Babe, is something wrong? I know my stories aren’t boring, so something must be bothering you.” You jerked up from your trance at this accusation to see his concerned eyes.

“O-of course not!” You cried. “I’m just a little tired.” He shook his head.

“Then you should eat! You’ve hardly touched your food and you were whining not thirty minutes ago about how hungry you were!” He pointed out. You cringed at looked down again, trying to find it in yourself to eat something. Hesitantly, you picked up a teaspoon of rice and forced it down your throat. Tengen smiled softly.

“So how was your day, then? I saw someone got a new outfit ~” he sang and you froze. “You gonna show me? I bet it’s hot.” You gulped thickly and wiped your sweaty palms on your lap.

“No, I uh... uh...” You stuttered. “I-It was stupid and uhm... I didn’t like it.” He continued looking on at you, and you felt his stare permeate in the air.

You admitted, “I’m just gonna return it tomorrow.”

“Why?” he suddenly asked. 

You eyes were still hung down and you shrugged your shoulders. “(Y/N).” He said and you shut your eyes tight hoping he’d drop it.

“Why didn’t you like it?”

Your teeth clenched as your tried to stop your voice from shaking and the dam of tears from spilling.

“It didn’t fit me well.”

“Elaborate on that.”

You snapped.

“It made me look disgusting Tengen! I’m...” You stopped yourself from continuing the sentence.

He rose from his chair, the wood scraping loudly across the floor. You couldn’t bare to look up at the glare that was no doubt simmering in his eyes.

“Come here.”

“I don’t-”

“I wasn’t asking.” He interrupted.

You swallowed you tears quickly and went over to the tall man, who tenderly took you into his arms and tilted your chin up to look at him.

“Have you been have having bad thoughts again?” He questioned softly. You sniffled and shook your head. “N-no... I’m just feeling a little...,” you can’t continue.

“Gross? Ugly? Disgusting?” He finished with an unreadable expression. More tears coated your eyes and you nodded. His large hand wrapped around the back of your nape almost too tightly.

“And those thought are bad, right? And wrong. So why are you having them?”

You dropped your head. “...I don’t know...”

He let you two stand there in silence for a moment, the only sound being your sniveling and his deep breathing.

“This is my fault.” Tengen said abruptly. You looked up from your moping and grabbed the front of his apron.

“W-what? No! No, this wasn’t you!” He hushed you and pulled you into his chest.

“It’s alright. I’m a humble man.” Humble wasn’t the word you’d use to describe him, but you could let that slide for now. “I’ll admit when I’ve done something wrong, and I have.”

The man pulled you off him by the shoulders and looked down at you with determined eyes and a serious mouth.

“I haven’t been praising you enough, baby. God know you deserve it. Now go upstairs and put that damn dress on. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Your mouth fell open in silence, and you slowly shook your head.

“But... I said I didn’t like it...”

He gently pushed you towards the stairs. “Relax, you won’t be wearing it for long.” You gulped.

You hands trembled when you slid the thing back onto your body, and your knee bounced as you sat on the bed in waiting. You didn’t really know why he sent you in here before him. Perhaps he was giving you some time to yourself to prepare. Sex was always amazing, but he looked so decided when he sent you off. You honestly didn’t feel like doing anything too crazy in bed right now, so you hoped he wouldn't bust out any toys.

He came in about five minutes later, with nothing in hand and the same clothes except his apron was gone. His expansive chest was a distracting sight to behold but you sheepishly moved your hand over you popped breasts. Tengen waved his hand.

“Nope, no covering,” he growled with knitted brows. You nervously brought them down and your mouth felt so very dry. “S-sorry.”

He grimaced. “Don’t apologize. You’re better than that.” After the reprimand, his face fell into its usual beaming expression. His hands explored your figure like he’d never seen a woman before, and he whistled.

“Mm-mm-mm, look at you! Now this is what I’m talking about - see these tits?!” He bunched them up in his palms and you whimpered shyly. “Goddamn... I didn’t think you could get any sexier babe, and here you are proving me wrong. Hmm... it could do without the bra though.” He reached behind your back and unclipped it, letting it bunch forward so he could slide it off your arms completely. God, if he wanted sex couldn’t he just get it over with? You didn’t want to go through this confidence boot camp shit.

He gave your breasts one final squeeze before letting his hands glide down the rest of your body. You felt uneasy that he was paying so much attention to the curves of your body, the faults in your flesh. No don’t touch my tummy there or my back there. You counted every time he brushed over a lump of fat that you hated. But you took comfort in knowing that there was no possible way he hate those parts of your body more than you.

“Fuck - you look so perfect. So flashy. My god, is that a fucking slit?” His fingers traced the opening on your thigh, and he nearly drooled. You turned away from his dark eyes and blushed. Your heart fluttered at such attentiveness, but your head still hurt from all the hate you gave toward your appearance. You weren’t usually so harsh on yourself, but you supposed today was just taxing.

A slap on your ass made you yelp, and his hand soothed the area.

“Ugh, hun, your not supposed to wear these kinds of panties with a dress! You know that...” He said lighthearted and laughed. “C’mere - lemme help you.” No words left your lips as he trailed his hand painfully slow up the skirt and hooked his thumbs around your underwear to tug it down off your ankles. Your face was burning up and you felt some wetness leak out of you.

“That’s much better,” he purred as he took a step back to admire you. But it was only for a moment because apparently it was impossible for the guy to keep his hands to himself. Damn this man. How could he be touching you so much but not enough?

“T-tengen...,” you whined when he rubbed over the part of your belly just above your mound, the part that felt so, so sensitive right now.

“Just a minute babe,” he hushed. “I’m not done admiring you.” He gave a little push to your chest and you carefully fell back onto your bed. The man looked so predatory standing over you like that, like he would devour you at any moment. His touch fell down to your quivering thighs and he kneaded them both tenderly while spreading them apart.

“Tengen...,” you mewled out again when he dropped to his knees. He dropped down to your feet, kissing his way up each calf and nipping the inside of your knee.

His gaze turned back up to you lazily. “You want me to worship you, baby? Want me to make you feel good?” You felt as if you were melting under his eyes, and suddenly your bones felt like jelly. In a daze, you nodded slowly and he shook his head. Not enough.

“You have to say it, (Y/n). You gotta mean it.” He reminded. You gulped thickly and managed to squeak out, “Yes, puh-please...” He smiled sweetly and cooed at you.

“There we go, sweetheart. M’ gonna make you feel real nice, so don’t you worry.” He kissed and licked his way up the inside of your thighs and you moaned, bringing a hand down to wrap in his silver locks. You trusted him completely.

Instead of bunching the fuchsia fabric up to your waist, he decided to keep it down, opting instead to duck his head under the thing. You bit you hand, worried about his suffocation, but he basked in the heat of your splendor and breathed in your beautiful scent. Sure, he’d just eaten, but this was the real meal. And he was fucking starving.

Tengen pressed his tongue up flat against your slit and licked slowly all the way up to your clit, and you jerked into his mouth. You felt him smirk against your sex before he gave another wet lick that made you keen. His tongue traced smooth circles around your bud before sucking it into his mouth, and he repeated the motion until your thighs clamped around his head. But instead of removing them, he wrapped his fibrous arms under you and helped you grind on his face. 

You were a moaning mess, trying to get him closer and away from you at the same time. Every time your dress would ride up, he would pull it back down over his head and trap himself in your heat. You were dripping all over his mouth and he loved it. He’d eat you for every single meal if you’d let him.

A growl vibrating into your sex sent you over, and you sobbed as you came on his face. His eyes rolled to the back of his head when you crushed him into your pussy, and he eagerly lapped up your sweetness. Gentle licks brought you down from your high, and your lover slowly set you back down onto the bed, panting.

He pulled out from under your dress with a gasp and wiped his sopping mouth, eyes hooded and sultry. He chuckled at how you looked even messier than he did.

“You know,” he gulped down the rest of your honey that lingered on his tongue, “I was originally gonna tear this thing off you. But after seeing how fucking amazing it looks, I think we should keep it, right?” You were too exhausted to even think about it, and just nodded to agree with him. He slapped your thigh like a reward for seeing his point of view.

“...But, unfortunately, we’ll have to put it away for now. It’ll get in the way of this next part,” he admitted as he dragged the straps down your arms and figure. Being naked in front of him simply wasn’t ever going to be something you were used to because he would always eye you like a piece of candy. He gingerly folded and set it on the dresser next to your bed and began peeling off his own clothing. Seeing him naked wasn’t something you’d get used to either. Thick muscle hung off every bone in his body, convincing you that he could probably kill a man with his bare hands. You’d actually seen him crush a watermelon with his thighs before, and it’s played on repeat in your mind ever since.

You saw him snatch something from his pocket before he tossed his pants and boxers off of him, and you craned your neck to see what it was.

A temporary tattoo pen?

Uzui saw you staring and snickered.

“Bet you’re wondering what this if for, huh?” 

“Uh, yah...” You still felt a little stupid from your climax.

He held his tongue between his teeth as he popped of the cap and threw it.

“It’s for a little game we’re gonna play.” He brought the black tip to your chest. “I’ll start us off.

The ink felt cold and wet on your skin as he wrote on you and you shivered. You tried to concentrate to figure out what he was writing, but it was pointless. He pulled away and smiled.

“There. Beautiful.” And there it was. The very word written on your flesh in nine bold letters. They would come off if you scrubbed, but for now they were here to stay.

He looked back to your eyes. “Now it’s your turn. Give me a word. Describe yourself.” You blinked confused, and he nodded at you, as if to say ‘go on’.

“Uhm,” you bit your lip and remember his words that you repeated to yourself to get through the day, “p-pretty?” He smiled with shining teeth.

“Good job!” He wrote it down across your collar this time. Pretty. “Now we’re talkin’! My turn - Sexy...” The top of your right breast. He wrapped your legs around waist as he jotted it down, his heavy cock bobbing above your cunt. You willed yourself not to hump against it. But you didn’t have to stop yourself for long because he took himself in hand and lined it up to your drooling entrance.

“Now it’s gonna get a lil’ harder. But you’re smart so you’ll manage. Oooo, now there’s a word! I’m going again if you don’t mind.” He inked it your shoulder. Smart.

“You ready?” He asked. You brought him closer with your legs and gave him an impatient, “Yes - hurry up!” You didn’t like him teasing you like this. Tengen leaned down to peck you on the lips, and plunged in his first few inches until his cock was met with slight resistance, to which he slowed. You walls stretched tight around him, your juices aiding the process. Every vein and curve of him felt so perfect inside you that it was a wonder you could go about you day without it. His teeth bared and he groaned as his pelvis finally met yours and gave you both a minute to adapt. You gripped him like a vice, and it took his breath away.

“A-alright,” he hissed through gritted teeth, “it’s your turn.” He readied the pen.

You whined and squeezed around him, drooling over how hot he was inside you. “H-h-hot,” you stuttered. He place it on your upper tummy and kissed you again. Hot.

“Good Job. Gorgeous.” He pulled back some and thrust back into you, and you gasped and squirmed. You followed suit.

“N-nice.” Thrust.

“Glamorous.” Thrust.

“Cute.” Thrust. 

“Stunning.” Thrust.

“Appealing.” Thrust.

Magnificent. Pleasing. Irresistible. Foxy. Tasty. Divine. Ravishing. Attractive. Perfect.

Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. 

It was continuous cycle of writing and thrusting that had you crying out in pleasure and emotion. He was literally fucking you full of praise and worship. You could hardly think anymore, with your only thought being your own excellence and the ecstacy of his pumping cock.

“C’mon baby,” he implored, “Just one more word, I’ll do the rest. I know you got it in you.” You wrestled with your mind for just one more, desperate for anything that would get him to allow you to come.”

You panted and forced out, “Flashy.”

He laughed and pulled you up to give you a steaming kiss, tongue doting on yours. Tengen’s digits pressed messy circles over your clit and you screamed out and milked his cock in finish. He whined and pushed through the tight force.

He resumed painting your body in complements while he tore orgasm after orgasm from you, slowing down every time he would get closer to his own end. Today was about you and you only, and he was going to make sure you knew that. He wanted you to be selfish for once.

Saliva pooled down the corners of your mouth and you whimpered every time the head of his cock slammed into your cervix. His thickness was relentlessly bullying every sweet spot you had, and you were started to get dizzy. You body was bouncing against the bed and forcing the headboard against the cracking wall, but you simply did not give a fuck. Why should you when you were being serviced like a god?

“Tengennnn,” you whined stupidly, “I-it’s too much...” You didn’t know if you could take it anymore. It felt like you were going insane with bliss and every nerve was sensitive to the touch. He pulled the pen away from your left arm where he had just written another word and stopped moving.

“No, baby, this is exactly what you deserve. Someone like you deserves to be tended to day and night, and that’s exactly what I’m gonna do from now on.” He pulled out and swiftly flipped you onto your belly, only to push into you again. You wailed and grabbed at the sheets, thighs trembling for another impending orgasm. He resumed writing, on your back this time. Another blank canvas to revere you with. Seeing you cream around his cock so nicely only gave him that much more creativity about your magnificence. Your juices splashed everywhere, drenching your bodies, the bed, the floor. It was like you were an never-ending faucet, and he wanted to fucking bathe in it. 

“Fucking amazing! You’re a goddamn goddess, y’know that? My goddess.” You clenched around him and came again.

His balls were so fucking tight, it hurt. You’d come too many times to count already but he wasn’t about to do anything without your command. He slammed into your sweet pussy harder.

“Can I come, goddess? Can I fucking come?!” He could barely hold it much longer. Not when you felt impossible good wrapped so perfectly around him.

“Yesss!” You slurred fanatically. You wanted him to fill you up so bad. He managed a few more sloppy thrusts before hot come was shooting into your womb and painting your walls white. You both groaned from how amazing it felt. Tengen let his sweaty body fall onto your to press feather kisses to your nape and back, turning you head to press more to your flushed face. You were so tired that it felt like you were on the cusp of unconsciousness.

Uzui took a breathe and pulled you up into his arms, carrying your limp body to the bathroom, presumably to get you cleaned up. You both were complete wrecks. 

“Can you stand?” he asked when you’d entered the fresh room.

“Mm-mm,” you denied.

“Ah, that’s alright. You just have to look then.” Look? Look at what?

You peaked open your eyes, recognizing the mirror and gasping at your appearance. 

All over, front and back, was littered in those little words you passed off, most of them Tengen’s that he did while you were playing pillow princess. He ran his hand down you belly and over your thighs.

“Doesn’t that look nice, babe? Now every time time you look at yourself, you can see what you really are!” He declared excited and kissed your cheek.

You gawked and nearly laughed.

“Tengen! Your handwriting is terrible!”

“Hey!”

But you appreciated the thought. You’d definitely needed this. 

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers #204: Claws Across the Water!

February, 1981

Welcome back, true believers! ... Eh, true believer?

I hope at least one person out there is still into this.

It has been nearly two years. I let this sort of series slip into forever hiatus. My at the time job was really eating all of my energy.

That plus the yellow peril villain two-parter that’s this and next made it hard to get motivation up to get back into it.

But in the time between then and now, I wrote a fixer-upper draft of a pretty okay novel for nanowrimo and started learning crochet. So the time not Avengersing wasn’t entirely wasted.

But now I don’t have a job!

Thus, the Avengers.

Our roster of Captain America, Iron Man, Scarlet Witch, Wasp, Vision, Beast and Wonder Man are going to fight an enormous Ming the Merciless and many fuchsia Laserbeaks from Transformers.

Its a weird but gutsy concept for a crossover.

(Three cooks in the kitchen, writing-wise. Not an auspicious start.)

The issue really starts with a woman named Shu Han sending a secret message for help because she is being held captive by THE YELLOW CLAW.

Yellow Claw has offered Shu Han “honor, unlimited power, a pivotal role in the new history of the world” in exchange for something. He gives her three days to make up her mind, leaving Shu Han unsure of how much longer she can continue to resist.

And a day later, in Avengers Mansion, the Avengers say goodbye to Hawkeye. He had been hanging out with them a couple issues through the Red Ronin thing, the shudder Avengers #200 thing, and yet another Ultron thing.

And then Jarvis comes in with the mail.

Despite the Avengers being the Avengers, all of their mail fits neatly on one tray. And one piece of mail dramatically marked LIFE AND DEATH gets Cap’s attention and he pauses their meeting to read it.

It seems that Shu Han’s secret distress message was picked up by a ham radio operator in Hong Kong.

Imagine. Two hundred and four issues in and ham radios are still a relevant plot point! And yet Rick Jones no longer is. Goes to show...

Anyway, the ham radio operator’s letter says that Shu Han says that she’s being held captive by the Yellow Claw. And since Jocasta doesn’t know who that is, it lets Cap exposit.

Captain America: “The Yellow Claw is a biochemical genius. Well over a hundred years old, he retains his youth through secret scientific methods of his own devising. Unfortunately, he’s also a tyrant intent on destroying every last vestige of western civilization -- at any price! The Claw and I have fought several times in the past. I’d hope we wouldn’t have to again.”

So as you might guess from this, Yellow Claw isn’t a new character. He first appeared in a self-titled book in 1956. And opposing the Yellow Claw in the Yellow Claw was FBI agent Jimmy Woo. Which is slightly better.

Anyway, Iron Man chimes in that he’s heard of Shu Han. She’s a gold medalist in track in the 1968 Olympics. And Beast has heard of her too! She won the 1974 Nobel Prize in Physics!

Both of these things! Shu Han is quite the accomplished person.

And Cap isn’t sure why the Yellow Claw wants an Olympic gold medalist who is also a physicist but it can’t be for anything good!

Vision points out that the Yellow Claw’s island is in contested waters and that actions by the Avengers could cause an international incident. And also it might just be a trap.

I mean, ham radio operator? Really? In 1981?

Captain America: “That might be true, Vision, but the fact remains that someone in trouble has asked for our help. And as acting chairman, the only thing I can say in response to that is -- AVENGERS ASSEMBLE!”

Good attitude, Cap. That’s a good attitude to have.

And the Avengers Assemble, which in this case means run out the door like they’re racing for shotgun in the Quinjet.

Running right past Jarvis who was bringing coffee and ginger cake in. Leaving him to eat the cake himself because heck, no sense letting it go to waste.

I tell ya, Jarvis is underappreciated. Do you know, I don’t think they even invited him to move into Dead Alien Mountain in the current book? Instead they got a man trapped in a gorilla to be their butler. I mean, valid, but you do Jarvis a disservice.

LATER ELSEWHERE

The Yellow Claw stands villainously on a balcony talking with a Dr. Liu and asking him about the status of a project.

Dr. Liu says that there’s almost enough “formula” to begin distribution.

Yellow Claw: “Your words please me, Liu, for I have waited long to grasp this moment. Others may have their kingdoms, their countries, even their continents. But soon, doctor, I... shall have a world!”

But the Avengers’ Quinjet appearing on radar takes some wind out of his sails and he orders the base locked down and defenses activated.

As the Quinjet circles the island, Cap decides to send Wasp and Vision to try to find a way to snoop around undetected.

Vision can just intangible through walls and Wasp can find small entrances.

Of course, when Yellow Claw says lock the base down he means lock it down because even the air vents have been covered up with plexiglass. But Wasp decides to just blow it open and fly inside.

Somehow, even with that, its Vision who makes the more conspicuous entrance, as he manages to intangible in right where some guards happen to be staring at a wall.

Good work, Vision.

For whatever reason, solid snaking through a dark air vent makes Wasp wistful for some time that she and Hank went in a tunnel of love. And he was so shy that she had to teach him SOMETHING.

I’m almost sorry that she stops her internal monologue anecdote when she spots the Yellow Claw.

And here our two sneakiest Avengers both prove that they need to intern with Black Panther for a weekend or something because they both make a goofus.

Vision beat up the two guards that spotted him and just left their bodies where they fell, causing alarum when they were found. See, Black Panther would have told Vision that you need to hide bodies in a locker.

And Wasp falls off the wall while trying to eavesdrop and is spotted by the Yellow Claw.

He doesn’t recognize her as a tiny woman, tiiiiiny woman, but the fact that a bug is in the base at all means that the base isn’t airtight which means one of the air vents has been compromised.

Meanwhile, the Quinjet has continued to circle because there’s no good place to land on the whole island. So Cap decides to land off the whole island and makes a water landing.

Apparently Quinjets are like seaplanes in that regard.

And then as they are trudging through the surf to come ashore, -battle transition music- A SLIME ATTACKS!

Wait, this isn’t a dragon quest. This is an Avengers. They’ve got a man in power armor and a robot woman. We’re sci-fi. Okay so its a cyborg slime.

Or a jellyfish. Or, you know what? It has a beak. Maybe its a kraken. A cykraken.

And it drags the Avengers underwater, which is just what a jellyslimefishkraken cyborg would do, if you think about it.

Beast and Scarlet Witch are SOL. Scarlet Witch’s arms are tentacled to her sides and all of her spells require a somatic component. And she hasn’t taken the feat yet to let her ignore that requirement.

And Beast doesn’t have any leverage underwater to apply his strength and agility.

Cap isn’t doing much better because he’s trying to hit the thing with his shield underwater and the water drag isn’t helping.

Jocasta is doing alright. Her eye beams work perfectly fine underwater at cutting the tentacles. Although the narration calls her a “robotrix” which... what?

And Wonder Man does fine too. Even underwater his super strength is enough to just tie the tentacles in knots.

But Iron Man goes completely limp and the jellyslimefishkraken cyborg grabs him up and sticks him right in its mouth.

But it was a ruse. He baited the thing into eating him so he can repulsor blast it from inside and destroy it, freeing the other Avengers.

Good job, Iron Man. You killed a unique, horrible lifeform.

I think we can see that the real monster is Man. Comma Iron.

Meanwhile, inside the evil villain base, Vision runs into the evil villain. Who asks sincerely what the fuck Vision is doing here.

And Vision responds by immediately firing a laser at Yellow Claw.

Which. Good hustle, Vision.

Buuuut. The guy has an energy field that rebounds the energy back at Vision and knocks him out. Its a proven fact that the villain will always have something to stop Vision from soloing the plot.

Kryptonite, so to speak, is everywhere.

Yellow Claw has Vision taken to his lab to be dissected. FOR SCIENCE!

Outside, Beast goes ahead of the other Avengers to scout.

In his Beasty way, he’s goofing a little, singing the Loch Lomond song. And then he’s attacked by just so many flying blades. A lot many.

And so are the rest of the Avengers.

Wonder Man: “No kidding! One just clipped a lock of Jocasta’s hair -- and that stuff can take a bazooka blast!”

I really like imagining the Avengers testing that.

More than that, I’m amused imagining Jocasta’s deadpan expression as they shoot bazookas at her head.

‘The things I do to socialize.’

Anyway, the Avengers scatter to make harder targets because the blades are clearing the jungle to deny any cover to the heroes. Cap spots the blade launcher and throws his shield at it. Because that’s what he do. And it works. Because that’s what he do.

And since the jellyslimefishkraken cyborg and the “death crescents” hadn’t given the Avengers the hint, Yellow Claw appears before them towering several stories high and tells the Avengers to GTFO his island! GEEZ!

Jocasta notices that giant Yellow Claw casts no shadow and announces that it must be a hologram of some sort.

AND THEN THE METAL DEATH BIRDS

They get very angry when you point out special effect failures.

And then the Avengers do their various Avengers things.

Its an action scene. Avengers fighting robot death birds.

Iron Man jumps upside down in front of Beast to protect him from a missile. And Cap does the same right side up with his shield to protect Wanda.

I do appreciate the teamwork with immediate protecting the squishy members of the team.

Wonder Man hits one metal death bird with another. Because hitting an enemy with an enemy is great. I love grievous harm with a body.

Only thing better? If some Jedi force pushed General Grievous to smash some droids. Grievous harm.

Anyway, Jocasta does her eye blasts again, to great effect again.

Captain America throws his mighty shield and even a metal death bird must yiiiiield.

And Scarlet Witch gets to do something this time because everybody is doing a thing this time. Its a real team showcase.

She. And this is totally what probability alteration is. She changes the probability that a launched missile will just turn around and blow up the robot death bird that launched it. That’s just math.

Iron Man says that since his armor powers were originally based on magnetism, he can just remotely magnetize two of the metal death birds and cause them to smash into each other.

BUT THE BEST ONE OF ALL? And the reason I bothered to synopsize the individual actions instead of just saying “and then an action scene happened”? The best one of all.

A robot death bird launches a missile at Beast and he catches it. He catches it between his toes and throws it back, blowing up the robot.

Spectacular.

So spectacular that we can assume that it instantly ended the battle just because of its sheer majesty. I can draw no other conclusions from the juxtaposition of panels.

The Avengers finally reach the base after spending most of the issue traipsing up from the beach. And the base being locked down is swiftly solved by Wonder Man and Iron Man punching the door down.

My only regret is that neither of them make a joke about knocking. C’mon guys, I can’t be writing your snappy dialogue for you decades after the fact. Publishing doesn’t work that way! I’m not writing a redub!

A bunch of Yellow Claw’s goofy guards all prepare to be ineffectual mooks in a mob brawl but Yellow Claw stops them over the intercom.

See, he’s got Vision prisoner. And while he had intended to dissect him FOR SCIENCE, hostage is equally good. So if the Avengers don’t surrender, Vision will be sliced to bits by dissection laser scalpels.

Anyway, Dr. Liu shows up through a secret door to show the Avengers in to talk to Yellow Claw.

And Yellow Claw says politely ‘why the fuck you on my island??’

Or:

Yellow Claw: “Welcome, Avengers. I am pleased to have such illustrious visitors in my humble home. In fact, there is one thing that could possibly make my bliss more complete -- the reason why you’ve invaded my island, and my privacy!”

Which in less polite terms is ‘why the fuck you on my island??’

At this point, Wasp secretly flies up to Cap and tells him she’s okay.

It’s good to reassure him that she’s not a second hostage but. There was no reason in the plot for her to have entered the base. She accomplishes no things. She arguably makes things worst but its only arguably because she didn’t alert the Yellow Claw any more than Vision already did.

I would have liked if she had tried to free Vision or sabotaged Yellow Claw’s security system or something but that’s not the direction the plot was going.

Anyway.

Yellow Claw asked a question so Cap answers. He tells Yellow Claw that the Avengers are here because they received a distress call from a woman named Shu Han who says she’s being held captive.

Yellow Claw is actually surprised. Possibly dismayed.

He recovers himself quickly and has Shu Han brought in so the Avengers can see she’s not under restraint.

She wasn’t brought to this island to be a prisoner! She was brought to be his bride!

Easy mistake to make, honestly!

Wonder Man points out the should-be-obvious that hey kidnapping is kidnapping even if its for nuptials but Yellow Claw is like ha ha kidnapping no no, Shu Han fill this dumbo in.

And it is. A story.

Shu Han: “I... I wasn’t exactly... kidnapped. You see, when I was very young, a man came to my father’s farm, and, as was custom in my country, an arrangement was made. To be less delicate... I was bought!

“Over the years, I all but forgot the arrangement, as I turned my thoughts and energies towards excelling in athletics, and in science.

“But then, some weeks ago, I was approached by agents of Master Claw, and was brought here. I was frightened, but didn’t know what to do. And so I secretly sent a message, hoping for you help.”

Shu Han has that mix of super good at science and sports you see in superheroes but she’s a normal genius person living her life. It’s going to be weird if she just never shows up again. But also: good for her.

Yellow Claw is just so disappointed that she dragged some randos into their interpersonal drama. And we can see now that the proposal he was proposing at her was “marry me.”

Yellow Claw: “Shu Han, I wished you no harm. I am old -- even my potions cannot stay the hand of death much longer -- and I fervently desired an heir to carry my name when that hand fell.

“Thus I offered you wealth, power, the prestige of sitting at my side. And now you repay me with treachery, with cowardice... with dishonor.

“You wish your freedom that much? Very well, then -- you shall have it!

“Go! For I’ve no desire to take an unwilling bride!”

Yellow Claw: May be a supervillain but is big into consent. I mean, except for the part where he bought a child.

Yellow Claw: May be a supervillain but is big into consent when the alternative is superheroes hanging around.

Shu Han doesn’t look super burned by his speech so maybe that’s why he does what he does. He klaps to bring out a bunch of backup wives to prove that he’s not so hurt by rejection. And that he’s got ‘mad game.’

Yellow Claw: “As you can see, there are others more amenable to that lofty position! So, Avengers, you have what you came for. Please don’t let me delay your departure any longer.”

Or in less polite terms ‘GTFO!’

Cap points out that obviously they’re not going to just leave without Vision so Yellow Claw has some goons carry out Vision like a potato sack.

Iron Man and Wonder Man carry Vision with Iron Man warning that he’s not just going to forget Yellow Claw even though the guy claims he just wants to spend his final years in peace with his pile of wives.

And a good call to not take the guy strictly at his word.

As soon as the Avengers are gone Yellow Claw all about mwahahahahas and says that now his evil plan can commence.

Yellow Claw: “No, Dr. Liu, having one less wife should not effect the project appreciably. For the others, hand-picked like Shu Han for their superior genetic traits, will all give me sons, strong sons whom I will train in the arcane ways.

“Then, when they reach manhood, they shall fight each other, until only the most worthy, the strongest, survives! And it shall be he who shall inherit my destiny! The conquest and eradication of the western world!

“Yes, the plan is still sound, and there shall be no defense against it! For my children, doctor -- SHALL BE THE LAST CHILDREN ON EARTH!”

As far as evil plans go, having a bunch of babies so they can fight to the death is pretty evil even before the conquest thing. And the last children on Earth thing.

Follow @essential-avengers. Or don’t. Honestly, I can’t blame you if you don’t. Throw me a like if you read and liked so I can get a sense of how many people read and liked, if you like.

[vateacancameos]

Chapters: 1/1 Words: 1134 Fandom: Imagine Me & You (2005) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Luce/Rachel (Imagine Me & You) Characters: Luce (Imagine Me & You), Rachel (Imagine Me & You) Additional Tags: Autumn, Established Relationship, Pictures, Foliage, Post-Canon, Knitting, blatant misuse of knitted things, because Luce is always cold, One Shot Series: Part 5 of snapshots of autumn, Part 2 of Knitting Keeps Both of Our Hands Warm Summary:

Part of the snapshots of autumn series, which tells stories of ladies in love during autumn, this story can be read independently.

Rachel and Luce go leaf peeping. Luce overdresses.

Story:

“Hey, you.”

Rachel smiled but kept her eyes closed. She was taking in the perfect autumn air—crisp but sunny, the breeze bringing scents of fires, chestnuts, and cinnamon. She held that moment in her mind, captured it so she could remember it when it was freezing winter or boiling summer. Then she opened her eyes to add her wife to that picture, but moment was ruined by the ridiculous amount of yarn that Luce had piled on her person. Rachel’s rule for leaf peeping was no coats, which Luce had followed in letter if not in spirit.

She hid a giggle behind her hand. “Really, Luce? It’s not that cold.”

Luce glowered from beneath a floppy winter hat, her mouth half-tucked behind a chunky cowl. “It’s nice enough now, but how about in two hours when the sun goes behind the clouds, the wind kicks up, and we’re out of tea? I’d rather be overprepared than under, thank you very much.”

read the rest under the cut

She had at least forgone her winter mittens, settling for the more appropriate autumnal fingerless gloves she wore no matter the time of year, but she ruined the effect with a bulky jumper covered by a down waistcoat. The knitted ensemble was completed by the wool socks peeping out from the tops of her sturdy hiking boots.

“Darling,” Rachel said with a shake of her head, “you know that I adore that you request and wear everything I knit for you, but you really don’t have to wear everything at once.”

Thought Rachel’s knitting had improved vastly in years since they’d met, it looked a little odd when worn all at once, given that the hat was a bright fuchsia, the gloves rust orange, and the cowl a Kelly green (Luce could have at least worn the one that matched the gloves). Thankfully the jumper was an inoffensive grey and the waistcoat white.

“I’ll wear whatever it takes to keep me warm, while thanking God your favorite season is not winter.” Luce rubbed her hands together, and Rachel took pity on her, handing her a cardboard cup. “I already have tea,” she said, indicating her knapsack.

“Do you not cherish our traditions, woman? This is cider,” Rachel said in mock outrage. They always drank cider on their way out of the city to go leaf peeping.

“Of course, how silly of me.” Luce’s scowl melted, and she winked at Rachel. “Let us proceed with the next tradition: sitting in traffic while following the path of leaf peepers gone before us. Where to this year, my lady?”

Rachel loved planning their yearly trips almost as much as she loved taking them. It was a challenge to find the hidden gems, the roads less traveled. Between her own journalism research skills and Hec’s travel knowledge, she usually managed to find the places without overcrowded car parks and walking trails. And Luce always appreciated the secluded spots, for her picture taking if nothing else.

Linking their arms, Rachel pulled them forward to Luce’s car down the street. “It’s a surprise, of course. You drive, I navigate.” They parted at the car, and Rachel gasped as she glanced in the back seat while opening the car door. “You have a coat!” she accused, eyes narrowing.

“It’s a rain poncho, for emergencies. I always have it in my car, you know that.” Luce rolled her eyes and turned the ignition. “Which way?”

“Fine, I’ll allow it, this time. But you better not touch it even once today.”

“That rule is ridiculous. Which way?”

“It is not!” Rachel argued. “M40. There’s something about cheeks flushed from the chill, cold fingers warming in front of car heater vents, hot tea steam on your face.” She was back in her happy place just thinking about it. Autumn was the best.

Luce scoffed, but she was smiling fondly. She put the car in drive and pulled onto the street.

“My lips warming yours?” Rachel tried.

Luce raised an eyebrow. “I could be persuaded.”

“Coming home and warming up in front of the fire … clothing optional?”

“Well, when you put it that way …”

Rachel leaned over and gave her wife a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, for going along with my mad schemes.”

“They’re not mad. Just … colder than I like. Plus, they give me a reason to request more knitted things. Which I can then wear and show much I’m loved.”

“From your get-up, you’re the most loved person alive.”

Luce beamed. “I am.”

🍁🍂🍁

“Bloody hell, Rache. We’ve passed three perfectly good spots already.”

Rachel frowned, eyes darting at the brightly clothed trees that surrounded them. “I don’t want perfectly good. I want perfect, full stop.” She took measure of the tree in front of her, shook her head, and kept walking. Next year she was definitely investing in a pair of Luce’s hiking boots. Hers were giving her a blister on her heel. But she wasn’t letting it ruin her mood. She could be cranky about it tomorrow.

Just as she was about to give up and agree to the last spot, she gasped. “There it is. Gorgeous.” She put a hand out to stop Luce, who grunted.

“It’s the same– Ohhhh,” she breathed. “Perfect.”

It was perfect. A sunbeam hit at just the right spot through the trees. It would light them up wonderfully. “Hurry, before the sun goes behind the clouds again!”

Luce pulled off her pack, rummaging inside for her travel tripod, getting it set up in record time. She grabbed her remote, and Rachel practically ran them to the spot under the riotously red and gold tree. She considered making Luce take off that ridiculous hat (one of her earlier attempts, bulky and knitted in an ugly shade of bright purple-pink, but Luce loved it) and cowl combo, but she wanted to be true to the memories of the day, which included Luce’s eye-searing get-up. She pulled her wife closer with their linked hands, free hand tucking into Luce’s elbow.

“Ready?” Luce asked with a laugh but let herself be pulled closer. “I’m going to take a few, so hold still.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Rachel got her smile ready. Not hard when she was standing next to the person she loved most, in the season that was her favorite, surrounded by lovely colors and chilled air.

The camera whirred and clicked a couple of times before Rachel turned her head to nuzzle Luce’s cheek. She just knew that Luce would be smiling softly in the last picture. It would be perfect.

And it was.

The last picture joined several years’ worth of autumnal pictures on their mantle, and a copy graced Rachel’s desk at work so she could look at it any time she needed a pick-me-up. It was her favorite, ridiculous hat and all.

[elitaxne]

💝- A memory that made them feel loved :3

                  « MEME REFERENCE » ○「 CLOSED 」

💝 ┊  ❛ A memory that made them feel loved ❜

♔. }

       Primus, her helm felt as though it would be split in two at any given second, and the aches in her frame did little to help the ill feeling either. Gradually, the virus had worked its way through the base and it was her turn to suffer. That was perhaps the worst part in all of it, neither her nor Optimus had been required there in months, now that the transition between the military and political realm had been instated. And yet, the last trip to sign off documents and meet their successors proved the nail in the proverbial coffin, at least, to her systems. SOMEHOW Optimus had walked away unscathed — for now, at least.

Perhaps it was for the best, he was needed to oversee the beginning stages of Kalis’ reconstruction today, and the rest of the week. The virus hadn’t set in fully until today, of course, and it was enough of a struggle getting him out the door yesterday when the first few hints of falling under the weather had started to take effect. He worried, and she couldn’t bring herself to ask him to stay, despite how much she wanted him to. Stubbornness aside, duty came first. Thus, she would try her best to recuperate alone in an empty home, and hopefully when he returned the virus would have seen its end.

Vents rattled on a hoarse cough, choking on a sickly build-up and struggling to expel it from clogged passageways. A quiet groan rolled from her vocoder, staring up at the ceiling of their new dwelling while she fought the urge to offline. Every wire in her being felt as though they had been injected with cement, plating throbbing with a dull ache and limbs strangely light and numb; as though she had been dismembered. Elita couldn’t think of another virus that had grappled with her systems so ferociously, but the feeling of death certain was familiar, several times over.

Tanks gurgled, running on empty despite her form not having ANY strength to maneuver to the kitchenette. Their new living space — while beautiful — was built for larger mecha, and the layout certainly spoke to that. Rooms were laid out with greater space between, and their property took up the entire top floor of the complex. Walking to the kitchenette already proved to take longer than anticipated on usual days as Elita became more used to the setting ( after having been cooped up in claustrophobic military bases and then an aircraft hangar on Earth ), but today when she felt like absolute slag? The femme may as well have been walking to the other side of the planet, her frame knew no difference in the exertion.

❝ Lita? ❞ a quiet voice whispered from the doorway, and tired cerulean fell instantly to find her Intended lingering in the threshold.

❝ What are you—- ❞ her words were cut short by another hoarse cough, leaving vents wheezing and gasping for fresh air. In that time the Prime DESCENDED on her in a matter of seconds, perching himself on her side of the berth. ❝ D-Doing h-here? ❞ Elita sputtered in continuation, taking note of his new position. ❝ I thought you w-were suppose to be in Kalis the rest of the week…? ❞ she managed, choking on shallow ventilations.

❝ Originally, I was… ❞ the Prime started bashfully, reaching out to run a large servo along her spinal column, hoping to help alleviate her discomfort. ❝ But they understood I had a personal emergency to tend to. All they needed was for me to see the city, and go over the plans, and those can be sent to my office here for review, ❞ he paused, still trailing thick digits along FRIGID fuchsia backplates, ❝ Besides, I despised the idea of being on the other side of Cybertron knowing you are not feeling well, ❞ he finished quietly, looking over paled features as his spark ACHED in its casing. Leaving his bed-ridden future mate in their new dwelling to fend for herself was NOT something he wanted to weigh on his conscious. Not to mention, residual merges had started to leave larger traces of her spark signature tied to his own. Optimus could feel the distant presence ( or at least, perceive it ), and all he wanted was to be there beside her.

❝ Primus, you’re even more worse for wear than last I saw you, ❞ Optimus vented with a concerned rumble, scooting closer still to the freezing femme.

Paled lip components curved into a weak smile, fascia riddled with exhaustion easing for the tender moment between coughing fits. ❝ The second day of a virus is always the worst day — so says Ratchet, at least.. ❞ Elita croaked, voice barely recognizable amidst the rough tone and static, but still she threw him a wry grin.

Optimus’ smile broadened at the comment, venting in amusement as he nodded his helm. At least she had retained her sense of humour, though it did little to ease the concern bubbling in the Pit of his spark. He HATED seeing her this way, knowing full-well it was worse than what she led on. Even after all this time, she was too proud for her own good, and he worried enough for the both of them.

❝ That he would, wouldn’t he? ❞ the Prime responded, setting aside his own thoughts to keep the light-hearted mood as his servo continued to trail along the length of her spinal column.

Elita’s smile faltered, quickly overtaken by another hoarse coughing fit that sent her frame lurching forwards, and plates rattling loudly. As selfish as the request for him to have stayed from the business trip would have been, she was glad he cut it short all the same. She needed him, and she was not above admitting to it after all these years. The fit subsided, and she relaxed back against the cushions, spark swelling in its casing now that it’s other half had returned to the close proximity. Visceral happiness, relief, and appreciation spilled from her tired EM Field, mingling with the warmth and reassurance of his own as crimson plating leaned closer, and her Intended pressed a kiss to the ice cold helm crest.

❝ I missed you too, you know, ❞ Optimus murmured, nudging the intricately styled helm with extreme caution, knowing she had been complaining of a horrible helm-ache yesterday, that had likely carried over to today.

❝ My comments or my presence? ❞ Elita quipped tiredly, voice raspy and hoarse in the wake of the recent coughing fit.

The Prime chuckled, ❝ Both. ❞

Cerulean softened, searching cyan as the warmth of his touch ran along her backplating. ❝ I missed you too, ❞ she vented weakly. As if on cue tanks rumbled again, and Elita pulled herself with a whine, then followed the prompt of larger servos as they guided her to lay back down amongst the mountain of cushions and blankets.

❝ I also brought you some things, ❞ Optimus began, grinning in anticipation to her reaction. ❝ I’ll go get them, one moment, ❞ he vented, pressing another kiss to frigid faceplating before rising to his pedes and briskly setting out the door.

Cerulean hues blinked against heavy lids, clutching at her chest-plating as another series of coughs stole the air from her ventilations, leaving her frame aching and weaker than before. Within no time at all the Prime had returned arms full of containers and bagged packages that were promptly spread out over their berth, along with a hot cube of low-grade, which she took from his hold and cradled carefully to her chassis. Clambering onto the berth the Prime made sure not to jostle her frame too much, coming to settle right beside her with his plethora of feel-better items proudly on display.

Elita swallowed her first mouthful of low-grade, ridges crinkled as optics haphazardly glanced about the pile. ❝ What is all this? Did you buy out an entire pharmacy? ❞ she chuckled, then began coughing, choking on the blockages from before with a wheeze, only this time with added alleviation by the hands of her mate, who again massaged chilly backplating.

❝ I… may have… ❞ his voice trailed off, neither confirming nor denying he had done just that. ❝ I didn’t know what to get you, and I wanted to cover ALL the bases just to be certain, so I bought one of everything they had available, ❞ Optimus admitted, sifting through the containers and turning over the labels so he could read them. ❝ Tell me your symptoms, and I will see what we have to combat them — aside from coughing, chills, and a helm ache. I knew about those already, and the clinician said that THIS would alleviate all of those, ❞ the mech smiled, optics twinkling hopefully as he held an orange vial up to his Intended.

❝ Excellent, ❞ she rasped, taking the vial in a trembling servo and adding it to the low-grade. Downing the rest of the cube in one go Elita set it on her berth-side table, groaning again while regaining her comfortable position nestled close to crimson plating.

As she moved, a crimson arm curled around her and he too settled in place, holding the unusually cold femme close to his frame with hopes the additional warmth he brought would help even more. Digits took to their previous places, running up and down the slender back while thumbing soft circles at points he already knew held the most tension when she was ill.

Weary vents gave a purr at the caresses, already feeling the aches start to dissipate, and frame begin to ease, making it harder and harder to fight the urge to slip into recharge. Cyan glanced down to catch drooping optical lids, slitted open then closed at a heavy rate. Draping his other arm to complete the embrace, Optimus held his sickly future mate closer, resting his helm above her own with a soft sigh.

❝ Is there anything else you need, Lita? ❞ he asked, looking down to her despite her optics already being closed. The Prime smiled, placing another kiss to her forecrest.

Elita nodded, half-awake, already feeling the medication and exhaustion working in tandem. Nuzzling her helm in the crook of his neck cabling the gentle vibrations of his sparkpulse helped lull her closer to recharge, synchronizing with her own in perfect harmony despite the separate casings. She felt better already. ❝ Stay with me… ❞ she whispered groggily, fighting back a muted wheeze.

Optimus lifted his servo to rest at the side of her helm, brushing a thumb over dull-coloured cheekplating. ❝ I had no intention of leaving, ❞ he murmured unsure whether or not she heard him as the slender form went limp against his. Smiling to himself, servos continued to massage and thumb over her frame, listening to their sparks as they settled into perfect tandem, then after a short while slipping into recharge alongside his Intended.

                                        There was no where else he would rather be.

[the-voice-of-hell]

Rent is Theft, part 24

Read from the beginning here, read the previous chapter here.  Note:  My MC is a Filipina trans woman and I am not.  If you have notes on that or anything else, hit me up.

                                                      ***

      The air was thick with heat.  Was it my imagination, or was the ceiling softly glowing orange?  I felt like there was a wind coming from somewhere, like what you’d imagine the wind felt like in Mount Doom that was blowing Elijah Wood’s shag around.  I felt it in my ears and it made it hard to hear myself or Leimomi.

      But I persevered, running through any faerie tales I could remember, and making them as baroque with silly details as I could manage.  The little mermaid had a waterlogged beanie baby collection with individual names, Bluebeard’s bride stuck her sisters back together with novelty Hello Kitty duct tape stolen from his sex dungeon.  I couldn’t hear a word of it outside of my thoughts.  Was I making a sound?  Was I even breathing?

      A building ache finally forced me to face biological reality again.  I had to pee.  My skin was on fire, the world was on fire, but it was still an invisible flame - nothing smoking, nothing scorching, no yellow inferno roiling out of my ruined flesh.  It was just a feeling of dangerous, alarming heat, dancing over everything.  Were there actual heat waves coming off my skin?  I couldn’t tell.  Sweat rained over my eyes and I blinked it away, but I forced myself to stand up.

      I felt like a wooden skeleton.  No muscle, just clacking fake bones.  How was I moving?  I reached the bathroom, stumbled through the door and almost fell down.  Instinctively I reached for something to hold onto.  I grabbed a dangling hand towel.

      It immediately slipped out of its perch, causing a weird floppy piece of shiny garbage to double over and splatter to the ground.  It was my improvised *redacted*  How had I not noticed it sitting where I left it, at any point in the last few days?  Where it hit the floor, a spray of green trash slime splurted out of the midsection, onto the tiles and my feet.  It smelled like a dumpster.

      I was just glad I didn’t fall on the floor, either from the incident or from despair, because I knew I would have pissed myself where I lay.  I turned to the toilet and laboriously went through the necessary motions.  In my imagination, the flushing toilet would have blown miraculously cooled pisswater back in my face, granted a moment’s surcease from the invisible flames, but no.  This air wouldn’t take moisture, and that water was probably warm enough to slow boil eggs.

      I walked again, the burning wooden skeleton, clacking away.  In the bathroom door I was arrested by the scene before me.  There were our little beds, like funeral biers - mine empty and Leimomi’s occupied by a limpid melting Ophelia.  The upholstery glistened like the sweat on her body, drenched.  The lighting fixtures held a dull light as if the heat in the air was pure electricity half waking them from the slumber we’d induced.  Was that blackening along the walls, in the areas nearest the ceiling?  The ceiling itself was definitely glowing orange now.

      Leimomi lifted her head - clearly an agonizing thing to do - and tugged a pillow under it so she could more easily look at me.  Drops ran down her face, but were they sweat or tears?  She was too weary to make a facial expression that would tell.  “Courtney,” her voice was minute, distant, rippled the way light is rippled by heat waves.  “Tell another.”

      As I walked back to my bed, black curls of slow-burned posters crumbled in my wake and fell like dry leaves.  I surrendered to gravity carefully, one hand, one more, my hips, rolled over, feeling like dead weight.  “I love you,” I said, not hearing a word of it.  I took up my water bottle again, dribbling what I could past the lips, then told another story.

      Were these thoughts without sounds?  Could she hear them?  Could she hear them with her mind, our bodies burned away from our souls, free to listen without ears?  I didn’t know.

      Once upon a time there was a young gal with a bad family.  Maybe dad died, leaving her in the care of wicked stepmom, or maybe that was her real mom but she liked to pretend it wasn’t, due to the pain that somebody biologically obligated to care for you just doesn’t, a way to not feel like that was her fault - that she was inherently and uniquely horrible.  People called her Cinderella because she was covered in the ashes of rock star posters.

      Stepmom and three stepsisters made her do all the chores and such, but you know, that sort of thing isn’t usually like they say it is in stories.  It’s not like, do these chores or we cut you, you ugly slag.  It’s more like, “Oh I just can’t right now, could you please?  You’re so much better at that,” or malicious compliance where they do the chores so bad it makes the more responsible person stop asking.

      They’d make Cinderella do emotional labor too.  The girls would gab about their drama all day, say “You’re such a good listener,” but never afford a moment of reciprocation.  Stepmom would get home from work and need to take a shit, but had constipation so she’d be in there a long time.  At some point back when Cinderella was eleven, she invited her into the bathroom, so she could pass that time venting about coworkers she hated.  Cinderella was too young to realize this was a flavor of child abuse, putting worries onto someone who doesn’t deserve them, isn’t equipped to understand them - and also making it pretty likely she’d grow up into that “amirite ladies” culture of woe and bitchery, unable to have a conversation of her own about the nice things in life, only ever able to talk about who was a bitch to whom, or who’s getting fat, or whatever.

      And there she was, a young lady, still not out from under the shadow of that porcelain throne.  But somehow she hadn’t absorbed that particular type of damage - she still had the ability to dream, to think of things beautiful and interesting.  It was worn down every time her stepmom spoke, but it still remained.  She had a spark of life.

      One day prom was coming - man I’m like the five hundredth person to turn this into a modern high school thing aren’t I? - and Cinderella really wanted to go.  She just wanted a chance to feel beautiful, to maybe dance with somebody.  There was no dream she would be loved, but just that she could feel something glittering and sweet.  It went without saying then, that she was not going.  Nobody had specifically forbidden it, nobody made any mention of it, but all preparations and discussion revolved around stepsisters and their needs.

      The night of the prom came and those kids were out the door.  Cinderella knew it was coming, but somehow spaced out on it until the last minute, until there was no denying it.  As the door clicked shut, stepmom put up the legs on her recliner and turned up the volume on a commercial for the Kia Summer Sales Event.  Cinderella walked upstairs like a ghost, and fell down crying in the hall.

      The door to the linen closet opened, and a beautiful little figure in taffeta, purple,and rhinestones appeared, hair a beautifully piled coiff of glossy black ringlets, a pencil thin moustache on their lips.  She looked up in amazement, not able to see clearly through the tears, no idea if she could trust what she was seeing.

      “Prince?,” she asked.

      It was indeed Prince, and he was funky.  Perhaps in becoming a ghost he had lost a foot of height.  But why was he appearing to her, and not to Morris Day?  He said, “Yes, Cinderella. This is no dream.  I was sent to make your life beautiful - but only for one shining moment.”

      “Wow.  But aren’t you a total *redacted* hound?  How can you be a fairy godmother?”

      “I might be the crown champion of boy vs. girl ball, but do I look like someone afraid to be called a fairy?”

      “And you did that homophobic song about how a lesbian girl needs to learn to be straight.”

      “Like I told Lisa and Wendy, we don’t talk about the back catalogue, girl.”

      “Is this your punishment for something?”

      “Being a Jehovah’s Witness.  Turns out telling babies not to get crucial healthcare is a bad thing.  But let’s focus on your problems.  What is keeping you from the prom tonight?”

      “My stepmom and stepsisters don’t care about me, just want me to slave away for them forever, never have a time for myself.”

      “I will make them care about you, make them slaves to you, and make this time be only for yourself.”  He pulled out a magic guitar, spraying sparkles across the beige carpet.

      “No!  I don’t want any of that.”

      “But you want to go to prom, right girl?”

      “Yeah.  Yes, please, my lord.”

      “I love the respect, but I am not allowed to be addressed as such, at this stage in my career.  And so again, pray tell, what keeps you from this promenade?  If you would not have me remove your problems, perhaps there are boons that can be offered.”

      “Well, I don’t have a dress, or makeup, or nice hair, or a way to go to the school.”

      “Crucial.  I can work with this.  Come.”  He clapped twice above his head and led her into her bedroom.  While he was unusually small, his magic guitar was full size and dragged on the carpet behind him.

      In Cinderella’s room, under a silver shaft of moonlight, he did a little dance and grabbed his crotch.  It was part of the magic, completely justified.  Her room was basically a walk-in closet, and some of her cleaning stuff was jammed in there as well.  He pointed his finger at a mop with a spray of sparkles.  It transformed into a beautiful silver-white wig.  He spun his finger in the air and it flew onto her head.

      “Wow,” said Cinderella.

      He picked up the guitar, did a spin, then played a cool riff.  Her ratty sweats changed into a fuchsia ball gown with neon purple lace and a bodice covered in purple rhinestones.  “It’s so beautiful,” she cried.

      “You know it,” he said.  “Now let’s sort out this situation.”  He pointed the guitar’s head at her face like a gun and played a wild guitar solo.  She could feel the ashes sliding around her skin, changing shape.  Looking at a dingy mirror, she saw the carbon condense into eyeliner, eyeshadow, and glittering lipstick, leaving her skin clean and clear.

      “I’m gonna cry again, I’m sorry,” she said, hand on her heart.

      “Don’t ruin that makeup, girl.  There is one item left to attend to.  Thy conveyance.  Approach me.”  He turned his back to her and with a wave of his hand the window opened.

      She came near to the little man, not knowing what to expect.  As she drew near, he seemed to increase in size - no, the whole world was increasing in size, or she was shrinking!  He scooched forward on his guitar, leaving room for her to straddle it in the back, and then it started to fly.  She grabbed his little waist and they flew off into the night sky.

      Smoke then, curling around my body like tendrils from incense, rising to pool and eddy at the ceiling.  It intensified, white and opaque at the corners of my vision, but inverted to darkness as it reached the glowing orange expanse - a negative print of the ocean, the opposite of water.

      Prince flew her to school and daintily alit to the gymnasium roof.  “I’ll wait for you under the north bleachers of the baseball field.  If you aren’t there at midnight, I cannot help you get home.”

      “Thank you so much, Prince!  I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

      “All I really need is to know that U believe.”  He pointed at the sky and took a tiny bow.

      Cinderella found a hatch to get down from the roof.  There was a ladder to a catwalk high above the gym floor, and she could see the prom below.  A few people bustled to do the last minute preparations, but there was only one dim light on.

      She wandered around looking for a way down and found nothing.  What good was it to be at prom if you could only watch it from afar?  But at last she found a rope to climb down on - one of the ropes they’d use in PR class, with knots at regular intervals.  She tossed it down and started climbing.

      When she got to the bottom, she realized she was in the middle of the dance floor.  As party lights came on and the rest of the students came in, she was the center of attention.  “Who is she?”  “How did she get in here?”  They were impressed.

      She humbly demurred and headed to the punch bowls.  A chaperone was glaring at her and not noticing somebody else spiking the punch.  It was going to be one of those nights.  The DJ led off with “Fight for Your Right to Party,” which was ironic because fighting for your right to party is expressly against policy at school events.

      Phew, I thought.  Are we alive or dead?  Will this ever end?  I can’t stand it.  Christ.

      A kinda short dapper gentleman approached Cinderella and said, “Hey babe, I haven’t seen you around the school before.  Wanna cut a rug?”

      “There’s no rug, but I’ll dance.”

      “Let’s buff this basketball court wax to a high shine.”

      They danced and chatted softly between songs, and enjoyed each other’s company.  Occasionally people would congratulate the dapper gentleman on his fortune in monopolizing the attention of a radiant queen.  People would smile at them and ask questions, take pics of her dress on their cellphones.

      Her own stepsisters didn’t recognize her.  It was a magical and glittering moment.  But best of all, she was really starting to feel like a woman, like a person who could be sought after by a dashing suitor.  It was the dapper gentleman that was making her feel like that, with his smooth ways.  Maybe he felt the need to stay with her because he was insecure about his height, or maybe she was just that appealing to him, but he was gently affectionate and suave and cool, and he knew how to dance.

      I could see myself limned in blue and yellow flames like a gas stove burner.  The world above the orange glow of a furnace, the walls around cracking and blistering, the world below a whorl of charcoal and soot.  In between the flesh cooked with no end.

      Proms crown people, right?  That’s why people make Cinderella into a prom story on Nickelodeon or whatever, so they can get the prince in there.  So ceremony begins and they crown dapper gentleman and mystery girl!  They say come to the stage, so we can crown thee at the stroke of midnight.

      That reminds her that she’s about to lose her magic, miss her ride.  But will it be worth it?  No, if she was left in dingy sweats and a mop wig on stage, she’d never live it down.  This was supposed to be a glittering and magical moment, but now it would end in tragedy.

      She couldn’t resist, she kissed him one time, then said, “I’m sorry,” and bolted for the door.  People were too surprised to react fast, and she lost any pursuers on her way to the baseball field.  Would Prince be there?  Midnight was so close.

      At the stroke of midnight she was halfway to the field, when she saw him rise into the night sky, momentarily silhouetted by the moon - Prince, straddling a magic guitar.  And just like that, the mop head fell into her hands, the ashes spread over her skin, the dress became dirty sweats.

      A whirlwind of ashen scraps blew past my face and I choked on the burning trash.

      There’s more, there’s more.  I swear.  I can do it for you, Leimomi.  I can do it for what’s left of you.  She, um, she went home on foot, right?  Fuck, glass slippers.  There’s supposed to be slippers.  I forgot them.

      I know, facial recognition technology.  Yeah.  So dapper Deandre is going through the school after that, using the facial recognition software on his phone, comparing all the girls with the mystery lady on his phone.  The stepsisters are all like, me, me, but...  No, that doesn’t even make sense.

      She’s going to get found, like, maybe she’s the equivalent of a TA but for the janitor instead.  A JA, that’s our Cinderella, and he takes a pic of her face almost by accident and it matches and he’s like, baby it’s me.

      She can’t see that, doesn’t want to be known the way she is now, which the janitor thinks is lame because you shouldn’t be ashamed of your class, you know?  Patrick’s a janitor.  Ugh, where was I?  She like, um...

      Bursts of sparks and chunks of molten rock fell in random splashes around us.  If any of that touched our boiling meat, it would bore a hole straight through like industrial acid.  No escape was possible, only luck of the draw.  Who would survive and what would be left of them?, like the movie said.

      Cinderella!  Dapper Deandre prom king finds her and says, “It’s OK, sometimes your clothes and your hair and stuff are gonna suck, but you’re beautiful and cute and I will never forget our night together.  If you don’t wanna be with me, that’s cool, but I just hope, I dunno...”  And she kisses him   It’s romantic because she looks gross but he’s like.  Fuck.

      The world was coming apart into orbs of light raining into an abyss.  Nothing remained between what had once been the floor and ceiling, and no one.  There was only a heat too intense to even bother with becoming fire.  It had become another state of matter, or nothing at all.

      At last the light was consumed with black.

                                                        ***

  Read next chapter here.

[black-strike-otp]

LT : Chapter 2

Ya’ll: ??? But???

Me: hush child, you shall See.

For all the terrible sappy fairytales the Cybertronian media had produced before the war, you’d think they’d use a realistic approach to how feelings worked. For instance: love didn’t come easy. It wasn’t dropped in your lap like a present. It wasn’t a single kiss that left the world in a slow-mo reel that made you feel whole. Sometimes you felt lost in your emotions; too lost to feel anything good about the individual you thought you loved.

Love was loyalty. It was commitment. It was dependability; respect, and the ability to forgive. It was going through the bad times together. It was looking for the light and beauty in each other, even when they felt like a foreigner at times.

She had witnessed love. She’d thought to have found love in all the wrong places. She’d lost love, identified infatuations for love, and made others love her. It wasn’t all too surprising that her name was associated beauty and romance. She had enough to snare even the most cold and unruly of their kind with enough time and cunning.

But this love… this kind of love felt like it was real. Alarmingly beautiful. A turbulent mess of highs and lows. Dangerous yet secure.

She wondered what her carrier would think of this mech as she watched him. A stubborn, witty, flirtacious mech like him whom had a thousand different stories that you couldn’t tell which were true and which were lies. But she knew.

A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. She knew the softness beneath the hot-head, the playful gestures under the sarcasm. The honest answers to the questions of where the scars on his blackened charcoal armor came from and the throbbing hum of his spark. He was certainly a mech of many tricks and legends, but he was more than what others played him to be.

Even as he looked to her now with uncertainty in his violet regard, there was turmoil. The definitions of his shoulders were a stiff hard line and his face a stoic composure. She felt a throbbing pity in her spark seeing him so unsure of himself. The medic, it seemed, didn’t even notice the cues of his unease as he looked over his notes and continued studying his tests.

Tubes and wires plastered on various areas of armor and beneath plating drooped to the floor and connected to various machines. The readings were almost incomprehensible. Thank the Primes for doctors and their ludicrous pedigrees and paperwork. Field medical work was messy and on-the-spot fixes, but Venus’ patchwork had nothing compared to these bots.

For the first in a surprising joor of silence, the anxious mech spoke up: “So, doc, are you going to fill me in on anything or am I supposed to sit here all day?”

“These kind of things take time,” the medic breezily responded without so much as a glance up from his datapad. “Let the machines do their work.”

Clearing her vocalizer, Venus spoke up in a soft-spoken and utterly too sweet voice, “May I go over beside Barricade for moral support…?”

The medical officer looked up. He wasn’t the usual physician they went to see in the ward, but he had been the only one available at the time. Sadly, unlike the mech ‘Cade usually saw, this one wasn’t so flexible in his ideals and not so easily charmed by a pretty faceplate and gentle smile.

“You’re lucky to be in the room,” the mech snapped irritably. “Under normal circumstances, no relatives or friends of a mech in his condition would be allowed anywhere near here.”

An instant sourness crossed Venus’ expression. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The medic looked over to her with a half-bowed head. His optics were a look of knowing. His face said he didn’t care.

Raising his servo, Barricade spoke in a soothing tone in her direction, “Babe, he’s just looking out for everyone’s safety. I just wanna get this over with as quickly as possible.”

“You’re only agreeing with him because you think the same way.”

“Venus, sweetspark...”

She crossed her arms in front of her chassis, waiting for him to finish. To Barricade’s credit, he chose not to. Instead, his shoulders sagged and he merely pouted in her direction for a nanoklik. His helm slowly dropped, though his gaze would still glimpse to her hopefully.

He wanted her to fear him. Venus couldn’t understand it; not fully anyway. They’d come so far; as trainees in the academy, as friends, as enemies, and as lovers. He never made it easy for her just as she’d never made it easy for him. She wasn’t an easy femme to win over with flaunting good showy looks and a charming smile. She wasn’t swayed by pretty words. She’d learned her lesson time and time again.

Caring for Barricade had been one of the hardest learning curves she’d allowed herself to go through. All the arguing, the backstabbing that had tore them apart as friends. Reconnecting in the most unexpected ways and the gentleness; the thoughtful nature, the fury and wrath he presented to anyone who tried playing her like a tool again.

He cared when so few had even tried.

Slag, Venus had even learned to love the darkness that plagued him. The reality that physically made him lose himself. The reason they were even here, in this stupid office, hoping for good news.

Her fist tightened on her lap. Digits trembled with anger and sorrow.

“Have you been getting enough fuel and energon?”

“Y-Yes, more than the rationed supplies as put in my usual medical treatment giver. As per diagnosed.”

“Any signs of intense hunger, thirst, violent thoughts or feelings towards others?”

“No.”

“Any signs of...”

Venus had to resist the urge to stand up and slap the mech as he hesitated. He made a gesture with his servos against his face like he was growing fangs or something as he opened his mouth.

She’d sock the stupid, thoughtless aft in that ugly maw if he didn’t quit soon.

“No, sir,” vented ‘Cade in a weary tone.

“Hmm. Right. Any other history I should know about? Family, past, work, sexual partners...”

“Oh for frag’s sake,” Venus growled furiously, throwing her arms up.

The doctor shot her an annoyed look, which she returned in kind.

“No, doc. Unless not everything’s in my file with the uh, therapy session...”

“Huh,” the medic mused.

Venus had to grate her derma to keep from barking obscenities at the mech. He seemed so completely oblivious to how his attitude and questions came across to his patients. The insensitivity, the mechanical droid-like actions he took and said without thinking. It was infuriating! He treated Barricade more like a broken chair than a living bot!

“I’ll speak to your usual over the results later, but from all indications here, I’ll put in a word of agreement. It seems that, in theory, your condition is in dormancy.”

“How can that be possible?” Barricade muttered, clearly perplexed.

Ignoring the nasty glance the doctor gave her, Venus pushed herself out of the seat she’d taken residence and stepped over. Her servos reached out confidently, gently cupping his faceplate.

“Because you are a strong, kickaft mech who refused to give up.”

The former Decepticon officer gave a hint of a smile. It warmed her spark, but not as much as the slit shift of his face as he kissed her palm. Such a simple gesture, such a way it made her spark flutter.

“I only fought as hard as my biggest supporter fought for me,” he tenderly responded.

Unacknowledged, the medic stared at the two with a look of disgust. He gruffly made a noise in his vocalizer box as he shifted in place, looking down at his notes.

“Yes well, we can’t be sure if you’ll have any relapses. That said: it appears that whatever happened the day we had dark-energon infused zombies rising from the dead, it seems to have just… gone,” the mech looked up as he continued, “Whatever Shockwave did to infect you, it’s still present in your spark. You’re still most likely contagious, but the disease that inflicted you is just… unresponsive to tests.”

Frowning deeply, Venus placed a servo against her hip and dropped the other to her side. Her mouth was drawn in a firm line as she eyed the medic behind half-closed fuchsia optics.

“You could just say it: you don’t have any fragging clue what’s going on, but you don’t think he’s going to try draining you of fluids so you’re not leaking yourself-”

“Venus!” Barricade hissed.

“-like the piss sparkling you are.”

A vain little grin appeared on the mech’s face as he looked to her. His optic twitched slightly. Venus could only smile smugly in response to the clear irritation the mech was going through. How unfortunate and tragic for him.

Tight-lipped, the doctor finally responded: “In so many polite words, miss, you’re technically correct. We simply don’t have the answers. There’s never been a studied nor reported case like Barricade’s.”

“A half-living half-undead Cybertronian, unable to functionally predict his outbursts of hunger and contain himself, is simply untested and undocumented,” he went on. “He has a walking pathogen in him. We don’t know what it could do, when it will activate. However, from our studies, even when he goes hungry Barricade no longer seems to undergo the transformation to… well, you’ve seen it.”

Impatiently, the ebony-pink femme tapped her pede against the floor.

“Therefore,” the medic testily continued, “We have no conclusive evidence as to why he’s behaving more rationally. We can only continue to prescribe consistency, and keep our optics on him.”

Exhaling slowly to calm herself, Venus leaned in towards the medic. He looked behind himself as he leaned away, giving her a look of doubt and alarm.

Venus took a great deal of pleasure out of his lapse of anxiety. It was even funnier, considering the mech was at least a good two or three feet taller than her.

“Thanks for your insight, doc,” she breathed venomously. “Now if we’re done here, maybe you can take all this crap off my spark’s desire and keep your judgment to yourself, hmm? I thought medic’s were supposed to be unbiased.”

As she spoke, the femme offered her most tantalizing smile. A glimpse of derma and a raised optic ridge to go with it. She slid her arm across the distance to casually, almost seductively caress the side of the medic’s arm.

“I wonder how good a medic is without their servos...”

“F-Femme,” the medic stuttered, taking a step back. “I’m w-warning you-”

“Venus,” Barricade pleaded gently, reaching out for her arm.

Satisfied as it was with the mech’s response, she took a step back from the cowardly physician. Venus’ servo instantly reached out to find ‘Cade’s, offering a reassuring squeeze as palm met palm and digits loosely intertwined.

The medic glowered at her for a brief moment as he straightened himself. With a look of superiority in his gaze, he stepped around the operating table to Barricade’s backside to begin removing monitor cables.

The femme tore her optics off the snotty medic to her beloved to see the accusing look he was aiming towards her. Slightly hurt, Venus pouted just a smidgen and watched the upturn ‘Cade resisted in the corners of her mouth.

Peeling off the last of the cables as he walked around, the medic gave a flick of his wrist towards the door. “You’re free to go, we’ll be seeing you in another mega-cycle.”

“Hopefully not you,” Venus muttered.

“Sure,” Barricade vaguely answered, dropping onto his pedes. His digits squeezed against Venus’ softly as he turned for the door.

Venus allowed herself to be escorted out of the medic’s ward by her mate. Her optics sweeping from side to side; a survival instinct not quite grown out of. Nor was her constant surprise at just how many bots had come to this little refuge. It had already been a surprising size of neutrals when they’d first come here, and ever since the transmission tower had been built, it was a bustling and flourishing underground labyrinth of a city.

They’d decided to keep the majority of their factionless organization where it was safest; in the crust of Cybertron. Although they had to compete and beat back some of the beast’s that had thrived longer in the planet, it was a better bet than the surface in some qualities.

No other groups could determine the size of their utopia from above solely. Groups of warriors were often patrolling the area and the skies to keep the tower secure from any bandits or air strikes. There was still a regular threat from any bots, neutral or otherwise, trying to take advantage of the resources that the countless joining groups and companies brought into their ‘city’.

The place was busy no matter what direction she looked. It was almost like being back in the heat of the war again yet it wasn’t. Bots tended to be friendlier, usually. Maybe not the war then; maybe more like the academy she’d gotten training in before the Bot/Con war.

As they came to a halt outside the entrance to the underground city, Barricade reached around her. His servo skirted against her hips and down her lower back to rest against her lovehandles. As she looked to his face, she caught him staring at her with a stupid fondness on his face.

She felt a warm radiation of heat move from her neck into her face. The hue of pink in her optics brightened as her pulse quickened.

“You lost your cool a bit back there, huh hot-head?” he teased gently.

“Oh- well-” she fumbled, now feeling irritation latch onto her thoughts. “Look maybe if he acted like an actual medic and less like some stupid wimpy slagger, too scared to evaluate you-”

“I know, babe… But he has a right to be scared. A lot of bots saw what I did that day; what I’d become…”

“That doesn’t give him an excuse,” she disagreed with a shake of her head. “It’s his job. He should act more professional.”

Venting heavily, the dark armor toned mech shook his helm. He reached out with his other servo, placing it very carefully upon her waist. The sullen look in his faceplate pulled terribly at her spark.

“I know you aren’t scared of me, Venus, but they are. They don’t understand it any better than I do. It’s unpredictable.”

“You’ve been fine for nearly a year now,” the femme pointed out. “With all the exams and remedies and medicine they hand out to you- ‘Cade, you’ve done nothing but beg for forgiveness since that day. You’ve been complacent to the way they treat you and you shouldn’t be. By the Thirteen, you’ve allowed the curious to play with you like a ragdoll for months so they can see what makes you tick.”

He only gave her an infuriating shrug in response. “If it solves the problem, or can make it easier on anyone else ever fed dark energon, I can live with it.”

Venus narrowed her optics slightly. Of all the things for the mech to say…

She shoved him away. His optics widened as she turned slightly away from him, huffing.

“I miss when you were more selfish,” she growled to herself.

Behind her, the femme could hear the shuffle of Barricade’s pedes as he moved in close again. One arm wrapped around her waist again; his servo resting over her chassis as he slid his helm against her shoulder, beside her face.

“What if I told you I was being selfish?” he breathed.

She snorted with disbelief in response.

“If they ever find a cure for this, my goddess, I know the very first thing I want to do...”

Emitting a sigh, Venus glanced to his faceplate. “And what’s that?”

Triumph blazed in ‘Cade’s twinkling surveying gaze. He leaned in to kiss her cheek swiftly as he beamed a brilliant grin.

“I’m going to make you mine.”

“I’m already yours, you possessive aft,” she laughed, unable to help herself.

“Nuuu-uh,” Barricade crowed in answer, his digits swirling over her chassis lightly.

She jerked an elbow back into his side, resulting in a soft ‘oof’.

“That’s not how you ask someone to be your sparkmate you dolt,” she chided gently, leaning over to kiss the side of his neck.

“Oh come on, I already asked you once before!”

“And I said no.”

“You said yes!”

“The third time you asked.”

“Yes- and it had been a romantic, extravagant, sentimental gesture-”

“The first time it had been,” the femme taunted, “Aren’t you supposed to be a charming womanizer mech? Charm me.”

Relenting, ‘Cade let out a disgruntled ‘hmph’. He nestled his face alongside Venus’ neck as he pulled her closer to himself. A bit taken aback, the femme glanced around. She made awkward optic contact with a few busy bees wandering around off to the right that managed to spot them. They hurriedly looked away and went about their work.

“‘Cade I was kidd-”

“You are a goddess in fact, gorgeous,” Barricade cut in softly. “However, no matter how beautiful and ethereal you may appear, I could have fallen in love with you without optics. It takes a fool not to see the beauty in every part of you.”

Heat thrummed in Venus’ quivering spark as Barricade released her. She stood, a bit dumbfounded for a moment, before he reached out to aid in turning her around. She knew she was gaping a bit at him, but couldn’t seem to stop herself from doing so.

Primus don’t let anyone ogle at them. She wasn’t fond of onlookers.

“You put so many of my needs first, and I appreciate that,” he said with strength and determination in his voice. “If it wasn’t for you, I don’t know if I’d ever have gotten free of Shockwave… I…”

Quirking a smile, she reached out to place a digit against his mouth.

“I love you too”

A softness entered Barricade’s already warm, affectionate purple regard. He kissed her digit lightly.

“You’ve no idea how much I do,” he indicated boldly. “And I’ll prove it.”

“You already do- I was kidding on the whole woeing thing,” she remarked, “Trust me, you’ve got that down pretty good.”

“Oh, do I?~”

“Don’t flatter yourself too much,” she giggled, bumping her hip against his gently.

A warm chuckle followed from Barricade. His optics mostly closed, digits tightening against her side. The small things. Small things like this, the way she could so easily find her place in the world and fall in love all over again. Fall in love with his smile, his caring, his endurance to his beliefs.

As his laughter died away, the mech wondered offhandedly aloud, “I do wonder, however, what has brought on the change in my...”

“Don’t question it; just be grateful,” Venus hurringly interjected. No need to jinx a good thing.

Watching the question still play out on the mech’s features, the stunning femme pulled free of her betrothed’s grasp. He watched her with a look of puzzlement as she indicated with a curl of her digit for him to come with her.

“Come on, darling. We should hurry along. Blackout did say he wanted to see you after that examination, remember?”

“Oh- drat, you’re right. I’ll just blame you,” he laughed. “Distracting me with your own charm.”

“Mmmhm,” Venus hummed, shaking her helm with a suspicious glance. “I’m sure Blackout will definitely believe that. And not that you were getting too handsy.”

“Well, not if you don’t tell him.”

Venus flashed him a kittenish grin as she winked.

“Don’t count on it.”

[peinde]

I'll try to give solid answers.

1) Sexuality? Pansexual. ((same 2) If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be? Ariana Grande, moby, if only to quell t)(e rumours t)(at we look alike. ((IDK i don’t really have anyone 3) Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17. ”She arches )(er body like a cat on a stretc)(. She nuzzles )(er cunt into my face like a filly at t)(e gate. S)(e smells of the sea.” ((i don’t have any books near me ;n; 4) What do you think about most? My wife. ((adult cartoon TV wives, or if i’m angry, Bold and the Beautiful 5) What does your latest text message from someone else say? ”H3Y B4B3 W3R3 OUT OF PIZZ4 ROLLS >:[” ((”hey hun call me ASAP pls” 6) Do you sleep with or without clothes on? Wit)(out. ((with. i need to be ready to outrun zombies in the Canadian winter 7) What's your strangest talent? I can do voice impressions! ((i can’t make impressions, but i can make voices 8) Girls.... (finish the sentence); Boys.... (finish the sentence) Girls don’t like boys, girls like cars and money~! Boys will laug)( at girls w)(en t)(ey’re not funny~! ((honestly...same 9) Ever had a poem or song written about you? A couple of times... ((nah 10) When is the last time you played the air guitar? Just now w)(en I answered number 8. ((same 11) Do you have any strange phobias? No? ((a TON 12) Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose? Yes, but only twelve times! ((no??? 13) What's your religion? Dick. (i’m technically Christian 14) If you are outside, what are you most likely doing? Working, doing c)(ores, doing )(obbies, visiting friends or )(itting t)(e town. ((going to school or going to work 15) Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? In front. ((both 16) Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band? Don’t ever ask me t)(is again. ((i guess Mother Mother, but there are quite a few 17) What was the last lie you told? ... ((i can’t remember 18) Do you believe in karma? No. ((yes 19) What does your URL mean? I keysmas)(ed, because I didn’t know w)(at to type. ((it’s Peixes + Grande but that’s only OOC knowledge 20) What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength? My greatest weakness is me wit)(out my wife. My greatest strengt)( is my wife. ((my greatest weakness: my lack of motivation. my strength: my ability to dream 21) Who is your celebrity crush? Jason Momoa! ((Kat Dennings 22) Have you ever gone skinny dipping? Yup! ((nope! 23) How do you vent your anger? I tell me wife everyfin. ((hahaha, i don’t

24) Do you have a collection of anything? You could say t)(at... ((not really? 25) Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online? P)(one. ((neither OMG 26) Are you happy with the person you've become? ... ((yeah. i mean i could be a lot worse off 27) What's a sound you hate; sound you love? I don’t like nails on a c)(alkboard, but I do like nails tapping on a table. ((i fucking hate children crying, but i like anything that can basically be “white noise”, like the hum of a vacuum, or the working of a portable heater 28) What's your biggest "what if"? I don’t want to talk about t)(is. ((i don’t really think about those? i mean they didn’t happen. best to just move on 29) Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens? Believe in? I mean yea)( sure. T)(ey’re everyw)(ere. T)(ey’re real w)(et)(er I believe in t)(em or not... ((yes and yes 30) Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm. I’m grasping air. Now, I’m touc)(ing my wife’s face. ((i touched my metal storage thingy. then the wall 31) Smell the air. What do you smell? My wife’s farts. ((nothing. just the way i like it 32) What's the worst place you have ever been to? )(ig)(sc)(ool. ((any public washroom ever 33) Choose East Coast or West Coast? West! ((East!!! 34) Most attractive singer of your opposite gender? Does t)(e Rock count as a singer? ((IDK i used to have a crush on Pete Wentz 35) To you, what is the meaning of life? My wife. ((my Christian ass says God

36) Define Art. Out of my league. 38/ ((a necessity to man 37) Do you believe in luck? No. ((yes 38) What's the weather like right now? Sunny! ((rainy 39) What time is it? 8:23 PM ((11:23 PM 40) Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed? No, and yes. ((no, and no 41) What was the last book you read? I’m currently reading Written on t)(e Body! ((i think it was a Sophie Kinsella book? 42) Do you like the smell of gasoline? Yes! ((yes 43) Do you have any nicknames? Lots of people call me “Fef”. ((i have many IRL nicknames, but everyone knows me by Tori 44) What was the last movie you saw? Fifty S)(ades Freed (illegally, obviously. I’m not paying for t)(at drivel.) ((Devil 45) What's the worst injury you've ever had? I’ve died, does t)(at count? ((i fell off the monkey bars at age 8 and landed right on my back 46) Have you ever caught a butterfly? Yes! ((no :( 47) Do you have any obsessions right now? I )(ave many, t)(e most important being my wife. ((i guess? i’m always obsessed with something 48) What's your sexual orientation? Wasn’t t)(is asked before? ((yeah 49) Ever had a rumor spread about you? Yes... ((yes... 50) Do you believe in magic? Again, it’s real, so yea)(. ((yup! 51) Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong? Nope! ((Fef you fucking liar yes you do. and yes i do 52) What is your astrological sign? Cancer! ((Pisces!!! 53) Do you save money or spend it? Spend. ((both 54) What's the last thing you purchased? Pizza rolls for my wife. ((a bracelet off Aliexpress 55) Love or lust? Love! ((love 56) In a relationship? Yes! ((nope! 57) How many relationships have you had? I lost count. ((1 58) Can you touch your nose with your tongue? Yes! ((nope! 59) Where were you yesterday? At work. ((at home 60) Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you? Yes! ((yup! 61) Are you wearing socks right now? No? ((yup! 62) What's your favorite animal? My princesses...plus you know, t)(e entire ocean. ((any sea creature 63) What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you? Kindness! ((oh i don’t give a fuck 64) Where is your best friend? Doing activities you s)(ould NOT be questioning. ((online...talking to me 65) Spit or swallow?(; Swallow, you coward! ((i’ve never had the opportunity to do either 66) What is your heritage? Alternian! ((i’m black Caribbean 67) What were you doing last night at 12 AM? 38;3c ((i was on this hellsite 68) What do you think is Satan's last name? Natas??? ((meanie-bo-beanie 69) Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off? Obviously??? ((obviously??? 70) Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend? Yea)(! ((sure, why not? it’d mean i’ll know someone who shares my musical interests 71) You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do? I’ve never been late to work? Plus, it’s a legitimate reason??? ((i’ve worked at my job for far too long and have rarely ever been late, especially too rarely for her to keep track. this argument would be completely baseless. also, it’s a legitimate reason??? 72) You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid? It’d probubbly be fake, so no I wouldn’t say anyfin. I’d just wait until I could revive, and no I wouldn’t be afraid, you fucking coward. ((i’d tell everyone, IDK what i’d do. probably pray, sleep maybe, oh i’d be terrified 73) You can only have one of these things; trust or love. 38( ((trust 74) What's a song that always makes you happy when you hear it? Be Alrig)(t by Ariana Grande ((Arizona Highway by the Darcys 75) What are the last four digits in your cell phone number? 3838 ((i’m not telling you??? 76) In your opinion, what makes a great relationship? Being in one like mine and Zi-Zi’s ((communication 77) How can I win your heart? --Exist. ((LOOOL good luck buddy 78) Can insanity bring on more creativity? It sure can! ((i guess! 79) What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far? Getting married. ((going to therapy 80) What size shoes do you wear? 6 ((10 81) What would you want to be written on your tombstone? “Finally”. ((”i’ll be back” 82) What is your favorite word? Glub! ((intricate 83) Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart. Zi-Zi. ((organs 84) What is a saying you say a lot? Glub! ((”for fuck’s sake” 85) What's the last song you listened to? Girls and Boys by Good C)(arlotte ((same 86) Basic question; what's your favorite color/colors? Baby pink, lig)(t blue, lilac, mint green. ((rose gold, burgundy, olive, turquoise, black, eggplant, fuchsia 87) What is your current desktop picture? Zi-Zi. ((on my laptop? default mountains. on my PC? Mother Mother 88) If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be? ??? I don’t know! ((Donald Trump, probably 89) What would be a question you'd be afraid to tell the truth on? ...t)(ere are a lot. ((”are you straight” 90) One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren't really doing anything, they're just standing around your bed. What do you do? Go back to sleep. ((flip TF out and run 91) You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what's even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power? W)(at would I want t)(at I don’t already )(ave? ((flight 92) You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again? Being revived. ((??? none of it? leave that shit in the past my dude 93) You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be? --Everyfin from t)(e time I was revived onward. ((what did i just say? 94) You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be? T)(ere are so many options... ((??? 95) You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go? New Zealand! ((Paris 96) Do you have any relatives in jail? I mig)(t, w)(o knows. ((probably 97) Have you ever thrown up in the car? Yup! ((no, but i almost did! 98) Ever been on a plane? Yup! ((yup! 99) If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say? Most of t)(e fins I already say. ((”i can’t wait for the apocalypse”

[drinkshaming-blog]

>Gamzee: Transport eggs.

You illuminate the path ahead of you, unwavering in your light as you gingerly carry a large, padded basket full of eggs towards one of the incubation caverns. Your bare feet pad softly against the rocky ground, dark stone tinted a hundred colors from sweeps of blood and paint running through the crevices. As you walk, you sing to the basket under your breath.

Ahead, the entry you remember is gone, as well as several of the murals that were beside it. You stop and frown. Your memory isn’t that bad, is it?

“Gamzee!” calls a voice from down the tunnel. “Ataki’e!”

You look up and wave in greeting. “Ataki’la, kenna.”

A troll a few sweeps older than you, Datayn, approaches you, carrying an armful of failed eggs. She nods to the wall where the entry should be. “Eylna te hariek’a juni pate, ah, saulo tog’una fabrei ne’gi, tellai.” Her expression darkens momentarily. “Temai’e herum herei te taki’e kureti aue.”

Your eyebrows lift and you study the wall, or rather the unwieldy rubble that makes up the wall. It’s difficult to tell where there’s been a recent collapse because there are so many old collapses-- there’s an old saying that goes hariek’a hennei kala re’ue ni’a, or ‘every wall of the caverns is made of someone’s ruins’. Datayn says eight jades and forty eggs were lost to a collapse three nights ago. You turn your gaze back to Datayn with a soft smile. “Auwae. Malai, malai, kenna.”

She smiles back. “Malai, malai, tellai.”

“Reke’te aue hyeni’el keji keia unelli te orema?”

“Paela taei ke me’ei.”

“Fa’ele key te jyre’kl te haeme’ai saulo taki’e?”

“Ah, raenu keai ke’ea ne’a dayn, melliaku.”

“Ta, auwae. Kelli’a ieneta ue!” You carefully rotate one of the eggs in your basket.

“Ieneta ue,” she echoes, nodding towards the failed eggs in her arms. “Temai’ilee kaki morei, shereya, Gamzee.” She laughs at her own joke and allows you to adjust the rhododendron in her hair before she continues on her path and you alter yours, turning right at the next fork to make your way to another incubation cavern.

As you walk, you check your messages, scrolling through a couple notifications about various projects you’re collaborating on (and sighing softly at your conversations with Tavros and Karkat respectively) until you reach your conversation with your supervisor.

GAMZEE: no worries, motherfucker GAMZEE: youll get a chance to see these legs again sooner or later haha JAREED: |et’s aim for ‘sooner’. GAMZEE: sure thing :o) JAREED: you are hard at work, i assume? GAMZEE: be up and carrying some motherfucking eggs around right now actually JAREED: oh! are you, uh. |uminescent? GAMZEE: yeah haha i lights all up whenever shits dark GAMZEE: helps a brother get around easy JAREED: that’s pretty hot.

Your smile widens. Motherfuck, for all the respect he doesn’t have for you, this thing you’re doing with him feels pretty good.

GAMZEE: you think? JAREED: yeah, the who|e g|owing thing, as we|| as the makeup stuff you wear. JAREED: and you. you are beautifu|. GAMZEE: haha damn thanks GAMZEE: thats all some nice shit to hear from a motherfucker as you GAMZEE: which, here cant make no judgements cause i dont all talk to so many highbloods JAREED: you are the first jade i’ve spoken to as we||. GAMZEE: really? JAREED: yes. i have heard stories about friends of friends who have had… encounters with jades, of course, but it is difficu|t to discern how much of that is pure boasting. JAREED: i think most tro||s want to find out what it’s |ike. GAMZEE: wow GAMZEE: that mean a brother just got lucky or something? JAREED: yeah, i got to see you for myse|f. GAMZEE: all kinds of motherfucking good shit that be haha GAMZEE: this fucker getting to talk at ya such how, shades and looks and everything JAREED: nothing you say makes sense. it’s cute. GAMZEE: haha aight JAREED: it’s because you speak that backwards jade dia|ect, right? it’s very exotic.

Does he think you’re speaking in the mother tongue? Does he think that’s the mother tongue?

GAMZEE: sure GAMZEE: so this all you tryna make a story for ya friends friends to gossip at, if ya catch? JAREED: abso|utely. i want you.

Oh, man. This is obviously intensely objectifying, but fuck it’s nice to be wanted. Why don’t you fall in love with people who fetishize you like Jareed does, again? (Because you would and do choose real, all-consuming, unrequited love over someone fickle who actually wants you any night. Which is a miracle unto itself.)

GAMZEE: thanks :o) JAREED: i’|| try to find an excuse to visit the caverns soon. GAMZEE: oh aight JAREED: is the new diet for the mother grub working out? GAMZEE: yeah shit be going down right as rain yo

You hear singing and see flickering light ahead, and shut off your palmhusk, checking on the eggs instead of paying attention to the new message vibration. Before long, you find yourself cutting through an enormous cavern where rows of jades are hauling on lines and handling levers to move huge vats of genetic material (a job far too delicate for machines- one off-temper unit and the entire gene pool could be poisoned). You walk down one of the lines as they continue to sing, and stop beside one particular troll.

“Yo, Kerede,” you greet him.

The jagged scar on his face twists as he smiles up at you, continuing to haul in time with the song. “Hey, brother. How’s the night treating you?”

“Some fine shit, tellai. You?”

He shrugs as much as he can. “Got stuck hauling, but we having a good time here.” Something catches someone’s attention; they raise their hand and call for the others to stop. The motion pauses and several trolls hurry over to check out whatever’s wrong with the slurry. Kerede steps away from the line; you decaptchalogue a skein of water and hand it to him. “Thanks, man. You going to the festival this week, right?”

“Yeah, motherfucker just heard of all that,” you reply. “Gotta pay respects and shit. Been a while since the last big event, anyway.”

“True, shit’ll be nice.” Kerede carefully pours some water over the back of his neck. “Anyways, I’m near finished with the inseam on that hat for ya’ friend. Probably be done in a night or two, depending how busy I am. Having a nice time with it.” He finishes dousing himself in water and holds out his arms invitingly; you carefully hand your basket to him and stretch. 

“Damn, aight. Thanks. Anything a motherfucker can do back at ya?” you ask.

He thinks about that for a moment. “Oh, I been working on some fancy dress for my palemate’s wriggling day in a few perigees here, could use some patterned silk for a shawl kinda thing.”

You nod. It isn’t repayment for his services, that isn’t how things work down here; it’s a way to keep busy, to keep creating, to help a brother. And this sounds like something you’d enjoy in your free time. “What size you thinking? Might need to find some help getting dyes and all.”

“Well-” A call goes up for workers to return to their places. “Shit.” He hands your basket and water skein back to you and repositions himself beside the line. “I’ll message you the details, okay?”

“Sounds good, brother.” You smile at him. “See you.”

He returns your smile and you’re on your way again as the singing starts back up.

Some time later, you see seashells dotting the walls of the tunnel, most broken into a few pieces by centuries of pressure at least. A few jades are carefully digging some of the shells out of the stone. They must be on break. You watch them gently scrape at the insides of the shells, presumably to make sure they’re the type that can be used to make a certain rich fuchsia pigment. One of the trolls calls to you and asks if you’d like some dye from these once it’s been treated. You say yes, definitely, and thank him-- without stopping; you’ve wasted some time already and you don’t want these eggs to cool down too much.

A few minutes later, you’re humming softly to yourself and the eggs when a smaller troll, barely younger than you, falls in step beside you. There’s something strange about the shape of her torso, not distinctly noticeable but undeniably there; she herself was killed in a collapse not too long ago. She’s holding a basket of eggs as well, you notice as she amiably joins in with the words to your song. “Cover your crystal eyes, and let your colors bleed and blend with mine... Making, uh-- motherfuck, forgot the lyrics.”

You laugh. “‘Sup, Ellane?”

“Thirsty as shit,” she replies frankly.

“Mm, I feel ya. Should check in with Ya’alei? Motherfucker might got something to spare,” you suggest. Ellane nods. “Mine best friend got me all fed couple nights ago,” you add, some pride in your tone.

She cocks her head. “Who?”

“Karkat.”

Her eyes widen, a grin playing across her face. “The cute cerulean who was here like last week? He is, so. Oh.”

You give another soft laugh, keeping an eye on your basket. “He’s the only cerulean you ever met, sister.”

“Yeah, but I’ve seen them in movies. He’s motherfucking cute. Have you ever met another cerulean, anyways?”

Shrug affably. “Nah, I ain’t. Got a good point.”

“Was he the one you went out with?” Her gaze traces the colorful shapes on the cavern walls as she moves past them.

“Yeah.” You smile at the memory.

“Sweet messiahs, that must have been so cool. How was that, anyways?”

“Some miracle shit. Brother took me to see some wildflowers and all, we sat around most the night. Hardly wanted to come back.” There’s probably some totally obvious note of disproportionate happiness in your voice.

She quirks an eyebrow. “So are you pale for him or what?”

“Yeah,” you reply simply. The two of you reach the entrance to the incubation cavern and head inside, navigating around clutches of eggs to find an open space. This area is tinged with the sulfurous smell of the hot air channeled up into this chamber from the boiling wells deep below. You step over one of the naturally occurring vents that line the wall of the cavern, feeling its intense heat on your legs-- it reminds you of the sweeps before the game, when you were the youngest troll in the caverns and your relatively diminutive size made you the perfect candidate to lower yourself down into the vents and locate blockages or problems. It reminds you of crawling for what felt like weeks through narrow winding tunnels, sometimes having to press your back and feet against the sides so you didn’t fall, of scraped shoulders and skinned knees and damp clothing, of a parched tongue that painfully juxtaposed the air so humid you thought you’d suffocate, of heat rashes and ambiguous chemical burns, of having to grope your way along the wall through total and inexhaustible darkness. 

Motherfuck, you wish you had your bioluminescence then. Maybe you’ll go back down there sometime. You smile and continue to follow Ellane, breaking your trance with “Sorry, what’d you motherfucking say?”

“Does he know?” she repeats.

“Don’t think so,” you say as she sets her basket down and lays a thick cover out in a wide, shallow depression in the cavern floor. “Ain’t trying to make it known, but ain’t tryna hide it neither.”

“Are you gonna make a move?”

“Nope. Motherfucker ain’t any way, like, available for that feelings shit, nor interested in a brother. Just friend shit.” You set down your own basket and start transferring the eggs to the cover.

She examines one of her eggs and then sets it aside with a little sigh. “And you’re happy with that?”

“Sure thing.” You smile down at the eggs. “I love him, ya know, don’t need nothing back. Brother knows I’m there for him, that’s the best I motherfuckin’ need.” You know if he knew how you feel, he’d try to cut ties with you; you know it’s bound to happen sometime. But he’s here for now, and you’re happy with that, and the little pining lump in the center of your chest just reminds you how good you felt when he was yours. And that’s not a bad thing. You squint at the ceiling, trying to fit words together. “It’s, uh. You know, tou’na leiva, for a motherfucker, like takalou na’e hekemai? Reke ali’i jeya fe’all, gaiye pala he works shit out. It all... hennai ali’e ta, last time. Kinda, um, ehuwei te’a. Miracle shit.”

She gives a little nod. “Ah, I got you. Ca’ali te, brother.”

You adjust an egg in the clutch with a laugh. “Yeah, ca’ali te.” Ellane reaches over to you and wipes at what you assume is a spot of smudged paint near your jaw, starting to hum another song. You quickly check your messages again; before Kerede’s recent message about the shawl for his moirail is one from Tavros, which does hurt a little, as fresh wounds tend to do. You smile, at her in thanks and at yourself for being able to help Tavros out as well as you can.

The mineral deposits in the incubation cavern glimmer as you and Ellane make your way out, the light from your bodies reflecting against the crystals, and you take a moment to take in the huge murals that illuminate the walls nearly as much as your bioluminescence does. They bear lines of scripture, depict messiahs and cavern workers and flowering trees and moon cycles, scenes of violence and kindness.

The caverns are beautiful, you think for the hundred thousandth time over the course of your life, all decked out in centuries’ worth of paints and stardust stains in every color imaginable, all full of siblings in their own paints and flowers and stardust singing songs and performing ancient rites and lighting their paths with the radiance of their own bodies. Making inks and baskets and clothes purely for the love of making. No wildflowers could be this vibrant, you think. You work hard, all of you, scraped shoulders and blistered palms and crushed ribs, hands grasping blindly in the dark, purely for the sake of creating something good, and you have. Here, deep beneath the surface of Alternia, is the garden of the sun.

These caverns must have been a lifeless place before the Faith was born-- you can’t imagine how difficult it must have been for your people back when they were really slaves. And without the Faith, they still would be. Without the Faith, you can only imagine that these caverns, here beautiful, the garden of the sun, would be dark and empty.

You like to think that you’re like the caverns.

[jewel-loveyourself]

My Choice (original story)

So basically this is a story I wrote for an English Assignment and my teacher made me scrap it and write a new story because it was “inappropriate”, so I thought I would post it on here. (sorry if it’s bad I tried my best.)

Warnings: Gayness, mother and son hatred.

Word Count: 2416

It was four days until Charlie’s birthday, but it wasn’t just any birthday, it was the 18th birthday; the birthday where gender needed to be chosen, Charlie’s mother has already booked the genitalia surgery which will take place on the 8th of September, the day after Charlie’s birthday. Charlie was sitting in the living room, indulged in a book when Charlie’s

mother interrupted.

“You don’t have to worry about the surgery bill, I am more than happy to pay for my daughter’s surgery.” Charlie’s mother noted. Charlie stared with a bewildered look, “You’re going to choose female, aren’t you?” Charlie’s mother queried.

“I’m not sure, I haven’t decided yet,” Charlie answered, looking back down at the book.

“Of course, you’re sure,” Charlie’s mother chided as she sat on the couch next to Charlie. “Although you have short hair that can be fixed, you read and you’re a great cook and you hang out with Alex who is definitely choosing male when his birthday comes up.”

“I don’t know ok? I like sports to y’know and I don’t like dresses or heels.”  Charlie snapped. Charlie got up and headed upstairs towards the bedrooms, hoping to get some privacy.

“It’s ok once you get the surgery you will be acting a lot more proper and like a girl.” Charlie’s eyes rolled at the statement, Charlie closed the bedroom door behind them and jumped onto the comfy double bed. I wish I didn’t have to choose, Charlie thought, why couldn’t I have just been born with a gender it would be so much easier. Charlie decided to invite Alex over in hopes that Alex could shed some light on the problem.

 After an hour of venting, Charlie felt a lot better.

“Don’t listen to your mother,” Alex confided, “you be what you want to be

“I know but according to my mother I have “female qualities” and if I decided to be a male we couldn’t see each other anymore.” Alex looked at Charlie questioningly.

“Why not?” Charlie sat up and looked at Alex.

“You’re choosing to be male, aren’t you?” Alex nodded, “Well two males can’t date so I would have to choose to be a female.” Alex scooted forward and grabbed Charlie’s hands.

“Says who? If we love each other why does it matter?” Charlie looked down and shrugged. Charlie felt Alex shift on the bed and Alex pressed his lips against Charlie’s, Charlie leaned forward slightly returning the kiss. The two sat there with locked lips for a few more seconds, that felt like hours to Charlie, before Alex slowly pulled away.

“Whatever you choose, I will be here with you… I promise.” Charlie looked up and gave Alex a soft smile, his cheeks slightly tinted from the kiss.

“Thank you,” Charlie whispered wrapping Alex in a warm hug.

 It was the day before the birthday and Charlie’s mother was getting the decorations ready for the party.

“So, pink or purple balloons?” Charlie’s mother asked before Charlie could respond with neither she had already decided. “I’ll do both, oh and fuchsia tablecloths.”

“Mum, can’t we go blue or green?” Charlie’s mother looked at Charlie in disgust.

“They’re boy colors darling, people will get confused if you have boy colors at a girl’s party.” Charlie just sighed and decided to go with it, Charlie knew, in the end, it was not her decision even though she is acting as if it is. Charlie walks into the living room and jumps onto the sofa, grabbing the remote and surfing through the channels.

“The bachelor is on Channel 9,” Charlie’s mother calls from the back porch, Charlie ignored her and continued to switch the channels. Charlie found a channel showing reruns of WWE and settled down to watch Brock Lesnar and Dwayne Johnson. “You’re going to ruin your brain,” Charlie’s mother noted as she grabbed the remote. “Soaps are better to watch for girls,” she pointed out as she switched to Bold and the Beautiful. Charlie went to protest but was cut off, “it’s alright you will become more ladylike in no time, your aunt and I went to a finishing school that taught us to be very proper, you have to enroll after your surgery.” Charlie just nodded and turned to the TV, it was horrible but it was better than listening to her drone on. That night all Charlie could think about was the reaction of everyone, would they be cross or would they be accepting? They won’t accept me, Charlie thought, mother will throw a hissy fit about me wanting to be a boy and still date Alex. Charlie decided not to dwell on it and to think about Alex instead, Alex’s opinion is the only one that matters, Charlie thought, drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

 The next morning Charlie’s eyes opened to the blinding light through the silk curtains. The dreaded day has come, Charlie thought, at least Alex is coming so I won’t feel so alone. Charlie got dressed into black jeans, sneakers and a BVB t-shirt, Charlie went downstairs to be greeted by the heavenly smell of eggs and bacon.

“Good morning Charlie, happy birthday.” Charlie’s mother yelled from the kitchen. “You should check the patio, it’s all decorated… oh, and the guest will be here in about two hours.” Charlie nodded and went out to the patio to see the decorations, there were pink and purple balloons, fuchsia table clothes, pink napkins and a lot of glitter. “What do you think?” Charlie’s mother called from the kitchen,

“it’s umm… it’s very pink.” Charlie addressed,

“Only the best for my future daughter.” She called out causing Charlie to wince,

“future son” Charlie mumbled. Charlie sat down at the kitchen table next to Charlie’s mother.

“I can’t wait,” Charlie’s mother said with a mouth full of eggs, “we are going to have so much fun shopping, watching movie’s…” The more she began to drone on about female things the more Charlie was getting irritated. “Oh, and we could go on double dates, me with whoever I am dating and you with Alex, he will be so happy to have his beautiful girlfriend on his arm.” That was it, Charlie had enough.

“Mother… I’m not going to be a girl” Charlie declared, Charlie’s mother stared gobsmacked for a few moments before she began to giggle.

“Of course, you are darling, what else would you be?” she chuckled.

“A boy mother” Charlie exclaimed getting more irritated by the second. Charlie’s mother realized that Charlie wasn’t joking and stopped giggling.

“Yes, you are,” she countered, “as your mother, I am saying you are, your whole family says that you should be and you can’t just go against that because your stubborn.” Charlie glared at her in complete shock, “now I need you to go upstairs and dress into something more appropriate, I have a nice dress laid out or you can wear a skirt and a nice blouse, your choice.” She commanded and sent Charlie a venomous glance before stomping outside to put some final touches on the decorations. Charlie went upstairs and noticed a light blue dress, after trying it on Charlie noted that it stopped just above the knees and was just as revealing up top. There is no way I am wearing this, Charlie thought, Charlie decided to get changed into a pair of dress pants and a mini-grid dinner jacket with a matching tie and a white undershirt. Charlie inspected the reflection in the mirror, well you wanted me to dress nice and I do believe that I look very nice. Charlie decided to wait upstairs for a few guests to arrive before going downstairs. After an hour of waiting cars began to pull up outside, Charlie looked out the window to see Alex and his parents, Charlie’s aunt and uncle as well as their child Frankie, Frankie was only 9 but she had clearly chosen her gender already, she wore a pink tutu and had long blonde hair. Charlie took a deep breath before opening the bedroom door and heading downstairs, Charlie was fully aware that the choice of clothing would be like a big middle finger to everyone but Charlie didn’t care. Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs the first things Charlie saw was Alex’s beaming smile as he walked up and gave Charlie a firm hug.

“Happy birthday babe,” Alex whispered before pulling away and looking Charlie up and down, “you look smashing by the way.” Charlie blushed at Alex’s compliment before looking at everyone’s faces, everybody except Alex’s parents looked absolutely horrified at their choice of dress.

“What are you wearing?’ Charlie’s mother questioned her eyes widened in shock. Charlie smirked at her.

“Just dressing for my gender.” Everybody’s faces lit up, except for Charlie’s mother who looked appalled, Charlie was flocked by everybody praising Charlie’s outfit and other questions about what caused Charlie to choose male. Charlie could feel someone staring, upon looking Charlie noticed it was Charlie’s mother, glaring like Charlie had just murdered her best friend. The party continued for a few hours, more guests arrived and all of them were very happy for Charlie, well almost all of them, they were slightly perplexed about the choice of colors but decided to ignore it. Charlie and Alex went upstairs while the parents stayed downstairs chatting and throwing back a few drinks. Charlie and Alex were lying down on the bed with their feet on the pillows looking up at the cream-colored ceiling.

“You excited for your surgery tomorrow?” Alex asked, Charlie just shrugged. “I can’t wait for mine,” Alex continued, “Mum said I can get mine done the day before my birthday so people will be surprised… so don’t tell anybody.” Charlie continued to look up at the ceiling not really listening to Alex. “You were way off when you said that everyone wouldn’t accept you wanting to be male.” Alex chuckled, “you have always been like that, expecting the worse.”

“Not everyone is ok with my choice,” Charlie mumbled.

“You mean your mother?” Alex asked Charlie nodded, “I know that she was really hoping for a girl but she loves you, she will come to accept who you are in no time.” Alex confided Charlie sighed.

“I hope so…I’m getting kinda tired, I’m going to go to bed.” Alex nodded and got up to leave Charlie’s room

“Alright, you’ll call me after the surgery, right?” Charlie nodded, getting up to close the door, Alex wrapped Charlie in a quick hug before jumping down the stairs to get his parents. That night Charlie wore a big smile while drifting off to sleep, come tomorrow I’m going to be a boy, Charlie thought.

 The next morning Charlie bounded out of bed, threw on some clothes and practically leaped downstairs.

“Mother, my appointment is in an hour, come on we need to get to the city,” Charlie yelled from the kitchen while making a quick breakfast. Charlie’s mother came out of her room with a big smile on her face,

“come on than we don’t want to be late.” She raved, why is she so joyful? Yesterday all she could do was glare at me with fire in her eyes, Charlie thought, best not dwell on it it’s probably just like Alex said. After arriving at the hospital, Charlie went to go up to the front desk but was interrupted by Charlie’s mother speaking.

“So, how are you going to pay off your bill?” Charlie turned to look at her, she was wearing a grin like the cat who ate the canary. “There is no way that your little part-time job at Small-M could pay you enough to even afford a quarter of it.” Charlie looked at her in shock, realizing what she was implying.

“What…but you said you would pay for me,”

“No, I said I would pay for my daughter’s surgery,”

“You little…” Charlie started but was cut off by Charlie’s mother,

“so are you going to go in for your surgery or are we leaving?”  Charlie turned and headed for the front desk, I’m not going to let her win, this is my choice, not hers, Charlie thought. After a quick discussion with the receptionist Charlie was given a few forms to fill out so, Charlie went and sat back down next to Charlie’s mother. After filling out Charlie’s name and emergency details the dreaded question came up, ‘(please circle) Are you Male or Female?’. Charlie glanced to the left to see Charlie’s mother looking at the same question, Charlie drew in a breath, smiled and circled Male. Charlie’s mother was shocked, she opened her mouth to speak but Charlie cut her off

“I’ll be going in after I hand this back, the lady said it should take about an hour so make yourself comfortable.” Charlie got up, gave the form to the receptionist and was escorted to the operating theatre. Charlie doesn’t remember much from the surgery just the toothy, white smile from the nurse as he put a mask over Charlie’s mouth and nose and instructed Charlie to count back from ten, Charlie only got to six when the world started to fade. Charlie woke an hour and a half later on a white hospital bed, he looked to his left to see Alex sitting next to him,

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Charlie looked at Alex and smiled,

“Great, how did you get here?”

“I drove, I wanted to see you right after your surgery so I drove down here.”

“Oh, thanks” Charlie’s smile faltered, “where’s my mother?”

“She had already left before I got here,” Alex explained looking down.

“Gook, I didn’t want her here judging my decisions anyway.” Alex gave Charlie a sympathetic smile.

“Oh, by the way, the doctor asked me if I knew how you were going to pay, I’m guessing your mother isn’t so I told him that my parents were.” Charlie sat upright, staring at Alex with wide eyes.

“You did what!” He whisper yelled.

“Calm down,” Alex said as he pushed Charlie back down into the bed, ‘my parents are cool with it… they also said that you can stay with us until you get your own place since your mother is probably going to kick you out.” Charlie gave Alex a big smile and wrapped his arms around him,

“thank you.” Charlie said as he gave Alex another bright smile, “for sticking by me for…for everything.”

“Always”

[savage-rhi]

Fuchsia.

[savage-rhi]

Fu ch sia

[savage-rhi]

Fuchsia.

[savage-rhi]

Fuchsia 😭💀

[savage-rhi]

Fuchsia

[savage-rhi]

Fuchsia