#i always imagine it like if marcus was a teenage girl

[divyasoup]

au where bella is the vampire who moves into town and alice is the town weirdo who develops a massive crush

[misseviehyde]

IN CHASTITY - Pt II

By @Newbloodtg109 and Evie Hyde

Chastity was restless.  She sat on a chair in front of her laptop, her long slutty fingers deep inside her tight slit as she finger fucked herself with a slow pleasurable rhythmn.  Little gasps of pleasure escaped her lips and her heart hammered in her chest as she watched the image on the screen.

The porn video she was watching had over 10,000 views and showed a man with a pixelated face lying on a bed with his ass in the air.  He slowly groaned as he worked a gigantic black dildo in and out of his ass.  His cock was caged in a pink plastic shell, squeezed into a tiny crushed ball by the constrictive plastic.

Her hand went to her chest and touched the key she wore there.  Her pussy got wetter.

"Ohhhhh fuck yessss..."

She giggled happily, using her thumb to rub her swollen clit as she pushed another finger inside and felt her pussy stretch out to accomodate the increased girth.  She was so fucking wet she could barely stand it.

But still she wanted more.  She HUNGERED for more.

"Ohhh Daddy, you're so fucking WEAK," she groaned.  "I'm so glad we swapped places. I make a much better Chastity than you ever did and you're becoming such a good Daddy."

It was weird watching her old body in the porn video she'd filmed last week. It was over a month now since she'd stolen this body and adopted her Chastity persona, finding new perversions to indulge in every day. At first she'd just wanted to enjoy the power and pleasure being a wicked teenage bitch could bring. Having gone from a forty year old man into a horny slut, the rush of bratty endorphins had almost been enough to satisfy her. The wardrobes of clothes, the girls to bully at college... it had all been intoxicating.

But the new Chastity wanted more. So much more.

Daddy was her new project. There was just something so intoxicating about breaking him and turning him into a helpless simp. Knowing that he had once been inside this perfect body just made it so hot to humiliate and dominate him further.  

"Ohhhh yes Daddy, you're going to be such a good fucking sissy," she groaned speeding up her fingers and spreading her booted legs wider. Her big tits bounced on her chest as her pouty lips opened in pleasure and she imagined training her Daddy further and further into being her bitch.

First had come the ass training.  He had fallen for her ploy... her false agreement to return his body if he could fit the giant dildo inside.  Day after day she'd watched him lube the giant rubber dong and force it deeper and deeper into his rectum. Even if he could manage it, she had no intention of ever giving him back her body.

Other demands had followed. She'd told him it was disgusting how he kept jerking off to her, so had insisted he wear a cage. She had made him shave off all his body hair...first his chest...then his legs...soon he was as smooth as a newborn.

Bit by bit, his corruption had accelerated. It was so fucking hot.

Chastity began to cum. She cried out in pleasure as her pussy exploded and a spray of warm juice blasted out  to spray the desk. "Ohhhh fuck yesssss," she hissed.  She'd make Daddy clean it up later.

"I need some real cock," she gasped. "I need to get fucked."

Tearing off her clothes, she walked to the shower to bathe. She would make herself look nice and fuckable and then she'd find herself a nice big cock. In fact... she had just the man in mind.

*********************

Marcus had always worried that his daughter Kelly was hanging out with bad influences, but he'd never realised what a fucking whore his friend Joe's daughter was.  He looked down at the blonde bitch and gasped as she sucked his big cock and took every inch like a pornstar, having little to no gag reflex as she sucked with pure passion.

She'd shown up at his house and seduced him with ease. All Chastity had to do was knock on the door and stare into Marcus' eyes and she had power over him. His cock was harder than it had been before, even more than his ex-wife had made him, as Chastity shut the door behind her and dropped down to her knees.

"You know," she giggled as she slurped and glugged off his cock with a hot, pop... "getting your dick sucked by a teenage slut is kinda hot... but you know what's even hotter?"

She went back to sucking with a groan of pleasure, her blonde head bobbing up and down.  He gasped as she brought him nearer and nearer to orgasm, he couldn't believe how good this felt.

"Mmmmh, sucking a big cock and BEING a teenage bitch," she giggled as she grabbed his cock and pumped it with her slutty hands till it began to erupt and cum everywhere.  Chastity giggled as globs of cum rained down on her massive tits and she luxuriated in the feeling as her lover groaned and gasped.

"I mean, just think about it," she grinned licking the tip and sucking more cum out. "Imagine all the dirty, wicked bitchy things you could do if you became a girl...Don't tell me you haven't thought about it? What it would be like to be a girl, to be inside a body like mine?"

Marcus looked down at the cum splattered slut at his feet and frowned. "What the fuck are you talking about Chastity?"

Chastity shrugged.  "Just that maybe I know a way you can experience how it feels to be a horny little slut, just like me.  Your goody-goody daughter is so ripe and ready to become a slut. She's nineteen and her hormones are driving her crazy. She's told me she's still a tight little virgin, but with the right pilot inside her - she could be a fucking cum-slut and have everything she ever wanted. A tight pussy like hers could control the world - make men do whatever she wanted. Only problem is she's too weak to ever embrace that life-style. But you.. you could live that life couldn't you baby?"

"What the hell are you saying you perverted little bitch?  I'm not interested..."

"Oh no?" giggled Chastity. "Then why is your cock rock hard again at the thought?" Chastity stared devilishly into Marcus' eyes as she moved up and wrapped her dainty hand around his hard cock, her face only inches away from the man she just sucked off.

Marcus frowned, he couldn't stop thinking about the poisonous evil things this slut was saying to him and it was making him worried. 

"Don't worry Marcus, if you won't get inside Kelly - I'm sure someone else will. Maybe one of the other Dad's? Would you like to see that? One of your friends taking your place and turning Kelly into his new body?"

Opening her phone, Chastity grinned as she showed Marcus the bodyqueaning filter on the social media app. "With this, you and Kelly can change places. You can have her body, Daddy. You and me could have SO much fun once you're my new slutty bestie. You think me sucking your cock feels good. Wait until I show you what a tight pussy can do, and when you feel a cock inside you...you'll never want to go back."

Marcus groaned as Chastity began to stroke and pump his cock again, his balls began to throb - ready to explode again at her perfect touch.

"I mean - what if I told you that I used to be your friend?  What if I told you that I took over my daughters body and made her an even bigger slut than before?  What if I told you that nothing feels better than being a bitch and soon you'll be just as addicted as I am?"

Chastity was loving how good this felt. To tempt another person into doing what she had done. To help Marcus stral and replace his daughters life and drag him down to her level... it made her tight pussy wet.  It satisfied the corrupt and evil hunger inside her.  It felt good to be bad.

Meanwhile Marcus gasped and shuddered in pleasure as Chastity expertly squeezed and massaged his balls and with a moan he began to ejaculate again.  He had never felt anything so good before. His dick felt alive in her hands.

"Mmmmmh, I'm glad you enjoyed it, because that's going to be your last ever orgasm as a man - now lets go find Kelly and have some real fun."

*************************

Kelly was in her bedroom listening to music when the door opened and her father walked in. Her friend Chastity was with him too, although Kelly had been pissed off with her recently as she had been acting really weird.

"Errrrr hey guys... what do you want?"

Chastity giggled and pushed Marcus forward. "Your Dad wants to show you this cool filter he found. Go on..."

Chastity's eyes glittered and her heart beat faster as she watched Marcus open the app and the clueless Kelly stand next to him. "Yessss fucking do it," she hissed. "Become a slut like me."

"N...no, I can't do this," whimpered Marcus suddenly losing his nerve. He went to put the phone down but Chastity had been expecting this which is why she had put a voice control on the phone.

"Activate bodyquean filter."

She laughed and began to rub her pussy as she watched the switch. "Yesssss give your Daddy your body - his soul will be so good in your body Kelly."

Marcus' cock had been even harder than with Chastity's hand and mouth on it. Him and Kelly were engulfed in that familiar pink light as they felt their souls being sucked out and put slowly put into each others bodies. 

"Daddy! Make it stop!" Kelly yelled as she felt the last bit of her soul being forced into Marcus. "Oh fuck...it feels so good!" Marcus said as he grinned, feeling his soul as it was put inside his daughter.

Marcus hadn't believed it when Chastity had told him it would feel good to bodyquean his own daughter. He felt evil and perverted stealing his daughters body - but now he was inside and he could feel her raging hormones he loved how hot and tight his new body felt.

"Don't worry Kelly," grinned Chasitity as she swayed over to the shocked looking man who had once been Marcus. "Unlike my pathetic father, you can enjoy the benefits of being a real man. You'll soon be glad you gave Marcus your body. You're gonna love being a man."

Grinning Chastity pulled down Kelly's trousers and with a purr of delight began to suck the big  cock in front of her.

"Mmmmh let me show you the power and pleasure you can have as a man with a big dick. You're going to help me and Kelly here swap more daddies. In return you'll get your big dick sucked real good and I'll help you become a dominant powerful man."

Meanwhile the new Kelly was exploring her own body. Sitting on a chair she slid off her panties and with a groan began to finger herself. 

"Fuck - I can't believe this is now my pussy. Watching you suck my old cock is making me so wet. This feels so good."

Kelly moaned as Chastity's perfect air tight lips slid up and down her thick cock. Her Daddy's strong body was hers now and she felt a surge of testosterone and power. Grabbing Chastity's head, she forced the girl deeper onto her cock.

"Yes... fucking suck it you bitch."

Chastity moaned happily, saliva and precum dripping out of her mouth. This was more like it.

The room was soon full of the sounds of sex as Kelly fucked Chastity's mouth and Marcus masturbated enthusiastically - his fingers sliding easily in and out of his tight pussy.

"Mmmmh just wait till we get a cock inside you," giggled Chastity and she grinned as Marcus begn to squirt. Returning herattention to Kelly's cock, she gagged as he suddenly grunted and began to pump her mouth full of more rich salty cum.

"Isn't this just the best feeling ever girls? Hahahaha!"

**************

Joe groaned as Marcus laughed and pushed his cock deeper into his lubricated ass. He was currently dressed in one of Chastity's black bodystockings and with a black gimp mask on.  He grunted as Marcus began to pound him with thick heavy wet slaps.

Chastity was busy filming it all whilst Kelly sat on a chair toying her pussy with a big glass dildo. "Oh yeah Daddy, fuck that loser. Punish his sissy ass.

Kelly - who now thought of herself as Marcus just grinned as she hammered Joe harder. Becoming her own Daddy had unlocked a pool of dominance and sexual lust she had never imagined was within her.

After the fucking the shit out of that scheming slut Chastity, she had come to realise having a dick was the greatest feeling in the world. The power that she had with one made her feel strong and sexier than ever. Now she just wanted to fuck more pussy... to making that ass clap. Who cared so long as it felt good?

Meanwhile Joe was in ecstasy. He groaned and loved the feeling of being bred by a strong dominant male.

Dressed in six inch black stiletto boots that went up to her inner thighs - and a tight black body stocking with an obscenely large steap on jutting from her crotch, Chastity was in Heaven as she filmed.

"Yesssss I wanna be nastier, sluttier and even more evil,' she hissed. Taking over this body had unleashed her full potential as a super bitch. 

Positioning herself in front of her 'Daddy' she laughed as she commanded him to open wide and began to film a POV shot of him taking her cock as he was fucked from behind.

This was gonna make so much money online.

Meanwhile the new Kelly was squirting and moaning as she fucked her tight cunt. Laughing, Chastity took her rubber cock out of her Daddy's mouth and using his lubricated mouth juices - began to fuck Kelly.

"Oh my God... yes fuck me you bitch," moaned Kelly spreading her legs nice and wide. "Ohhh yeah fuck my tight cunt."

Chastity was in Heaven as the grunting sweating moans filled the room. Things were already more fun now she had more sluts to play with. 

"Ohhh yes it feels so fucking nasty to steal my daughters life," groaned the new Kelly. She couldn't wait to get her nails done and squeeze into some bitchy outfits with her new bestie.

"We're sluts now baby," grinned Chastity. "We'll add more to our gang and I of course will be the leader."

"Yessss," groaned Kelly.

"Yes what?"

"Yesssss Mistress Chastity."

"Good girl."

Chastity felt her pussy grow wetter than it ever had before. The newfound power over not only her father but Kelly made her feel so hot. She looked over the bodyqueaning filter, and eyed the age progression filter next to it.

She grinned and felt a heat rising up inside her. "Oh fuck yes. I'm gonna be so much sexier than before. I love being a slut."

After all - wouldn't things be even hotter once she was a MILF?

THE END OF PART 2

[cleoenfaserum]

THE HIDDEN CITY OF SEATLE, and the destruction of its NIRVANA

Washington State has always been a mystery to me. In my imagination, it was something so foreign as someone lost in the forest before freezing to death. It conjured up in my psychic absurdity. It was how I felt about the place in my teenage years in Canada. But Seattle was only a name in a State with lots of crazy gringos running around with no distinct character I could sum up, like a faceless person you only heard about.

814-1 https://youtu.be/OgeR2oqZGTs

Marcus Sakey somehow grounded out a spark. However, it was a TV detective series, THE KILLING, that gave me a sense of Seattle. It was an excellent series, sometimes a little bit dragged out, but good and tense which kept you wondering all the time with an unsuspecting denouement. You can see the series at: The Killing Season 1 Episode 1: Pilot Full HD online MyFlixer (myflixerz.to)

814-2 https://ok.ru/video/4400405744175

It is difficult to sumareis stories in such a way that you seem to get the whole picture in the briefest of time. Sakey does this second to none.

814-3 https://youtu.be/tAGnKpE4NCI

Kurt Donald Cobain (February 20, 1967 – c. April 5, 1994) was an American musician who was the co-founder, lead vocalist, guitarist and primary songwriter of the rock band Nirvana. Through his angst-fueled songwriting and��anti-establishment persona, Cobain's compositions widened the thematic conventions of mainstream rock. He was heralded as a spokesman of Generation X and is highly recognized as one of the most influential alternative rock musicians.

814-4 https://youtu.be/PbgKEjNBHqM

Cobain formed Nirvana with Krist Novoselic and Aaron Burckhard in 1987 and established it as part of the Seattle music scene that later became known as grunge. After signing with DGC Records, Nirvana found commercial success with the single "Smells Like Teen Spirit" from their critically acclaimed second album Nevermind (1991). Although Cobain was hailed as the voice of his generation following Nirvana's sudden success, he resented this, believing his message and artistic vision had been misinterpreted by the public. In addition to "Smells Like Teen Spirit", Cobain wrote many other hit songs for Nirvana, including "Come as You Are", "Lithium", "In Bloom", "Something in the Way", "Heart-Shaped Box", "All Apologies", "About a Girl", "Aneurysm",[1] and "You Know You're Right".

814-5 https://youtu.be/hTWKbfoikeg

During the last years of his life, Cobain struggled with a heroin addiction and chronic health problems such as depression. He also struggled with the personal and professional pressures of fame, and he had a tumultuous relationship with his wife, fellow musician Courtney Love. In March 1994, Cobain overdosed on a combination of champagne and Rohypnol, and he subsequently entered an intervention and underwent a detox program. On April 8, 1994, Cobain was found dead in his Seattle home at the age of 27; police concluded he had died on April 5 from a self-inflicted shotgun wound to the head.

814-6 https://youtu.be/3_5mTTEF0qQ SOME BACKGROUND: https://youtu.be/zeH7gqoSUOQ

Cobain was posthumously inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, alongside Nirvana bassist Krist Novoselic and drummer Dave Grohl, in their first year of eligibility in 2014. Rolling Stone included Cobain in its lists of the 100 Greatest Songwriters of All Time, 100 Greatest Guitarists, and 100 Greatest Singers of All Time. He was ranked 7th by MTV in the "22 Greatest Voices in Music". In 2006, he was placed 20th by Hit Parader on their list of the "100 Greatest Metal Singers of All Time".

814-7 https://youtu.be/pkcJEvMcnEg

REF: 814 NOTES

I don't usually include other themes with the central topic I deal with, though I have done on several occasions. The series "THE KILLING" is, as far as I am concerned, worth the mention. I have included the following review of the show and the link to the pilot episode of season 1 episode 1. I thought the acting was great.

814-8 https://youtu.be/e5Lz4_VB5Tw

The Killing Season 1 Episode 1: Pilot Full HD online MyFlixer (myflixerz.to)

[lakesbian]

I could see where he would have girls all over him, but I couldn’t say I was interested, myself. The pretty boys – Leonardo Decaprio, Marcus Firth, Justin Beiber, Johnny Depp – had never done it for me.

as always i am psychologically fucking agonized by wildbow determining that alec is gay looking enough to be homophobically macroaggressed but also "pretty" in the way that entirely gender-conforming men with like. Slightly long eyelashes. are considered "pretty" by teenage boys. Agonized. Agonized. No. No. Wrong. Wrong.

although i do like how an Entirely Made Up Name (marcus firth) is slipped in there. to be honest i didn't clock it at first because i know very little about pop culture bit i randomly googled that one to pull as an example of what wildbow unfortunately thinks alec looks like and. it's not a real guy! it's a guy that is only on earth bet! everyone give it up for tiny interesting little worldbuilding details wrt the alternate universes being slipped in this early!!!

that said.

knowing that this is the way wildbow thinks alec is "pretty" is one of the worst things on the planet. hang on i have to faggify his outfit. i have to do what i always do when wildbow describes alec with a nondescript masc outfit and make it gay.

He was wearing a white jacket with a hood, jeans and sneakers, and was perched on the raised lip at the edge of the roof, a bottle of cola in hand.

carefully writing down "enjoys cola" and adding a little heart next to it on my list of alec facts. if i have it in me i will Draw him doing this pose gaystyle later but for now here's the outfit i, as alec's legal correspondent and person saving him from wildbow thinking he's basically straight, have determined that he's Actually wearing during this chapter:

this type of jacket but made out of genuinely expensive material like cashmere or whatever (+ generic Extremely Expensive white tshirt underneath)

2. ye olde reliable black skinny jeans

3. nuff said. no sorry that's a lie he wouldn't actually love the design i just thought regent being in the name right next to the absurd price tag was really funny. he would actually prefer something like this v

or maybe this

i do think hes kind of a chunky sneakers boy. anyway you're imagining him in his gay little outfit instead of whatever wildbow thinks hes wearing now? yeah? okay cool. we can now continue with the rest of the chapter.

sound the fucking alarm alec is here

[beskarberry]

Under Your Skin

Corrupted!Marcus Moreno x F!Reader

But worst of all were the writhing, slithering appendages sprouting from all over his body, waving like the arms of an anemone in a gentle current. The extraterrestrial horror bore the familiar face of your Heroic, even if it was twisted with a malicious grin that revealed razor-sharp rows of teeth. Whatever that was, it wasn’t Marcus.

Summary: Your beloved Heroic has finally returned after going MIA on a mission, but something about him doesn't seem quite right. It's hard to tell if he left something behind on the battlefield, or brought something alien home with him.

Rating: I'm going to hell for this one. NO MINORS!!!jfc

Word count: 7.3k

Reader traits: none physically, Marcus's girlfriend and mom-figure to Missy. Afab with cervix

Content warnings: Dead Dove, Do Not Eat! Non-Con/Dub Con, alien possession and hybridization, monsterfucking, body horror, Sex Pollen, forced breeding/pregnancy, oviposition, cervix penetration, cum inflation, stupid goofy joke moments and to lighten the mood. don't worry I gotchu ;)

A/N: If you've read Blue Orchid and Kudzu, then imagine those two fics had a freakyass baby together and you get this one. If you haven't read those first, maybe start there before reading this one, and if those make you uncomfy then TURN AROUND! This is a smorgasbord of my very niche, specific kinks, so please keep in mind that this weird fuckery is for me, and I'm kindly sharing it with you. Maybe it'll awaken something new in you and we can be weird besties together :) Enjoy~!

The waiting was always the hardest part. 

You knew Marcus could handle himself, he was the leader of the Heroics for fucks sake, but that didn’t make it any easier on you when he rushed off to save the world like it was just another Tuesday. You told him he had to come back, if not for you then for his daughter Missy; she’d already lost one parent, it wasn’t fair for her to lose her father too. 

Marcus – sweet, beautiful puppy-eyed Marcus – would always pull you in for one of his trademark head-holding hugs, kiss your forehead, and promise you he’d be right back. Just a quick sonic flight to the middle of the Pacific Ocean, or an afternoon jaunt to the dark side of the moon. No big deal. 

“You promise?” you would ask him every time. Demand of him, almost. 

“Promise.” Marcus always swore, pushing his old fart glasses to the top of his head so he could see you unobstructed. “For Missy, and for you.”

And he always did. You’d see him on the news, mowing down evil robot armies with his lightning-quick katana strikes and metal bending powers, or standing heroically next to the other Heroics right after they'd stopped a volcano from destroying a tiny island nation or something. Always the heroes, always the victors. Always coming back home to you with barely a few scrapes – which was amazing given his paltry excuse for ‘armor’. 

Missy would flip flop between high-fives or just rolling her eyes at her superdad, hiding her relief with teenage sass; but you always melted right into his muscular embrace, clutching him close like the precious treasure that he was. Marcus would laugh, hugging you tight and chuckling softly, giving you a good-natured chastising about how he promised he was coming home to his girls, and he would never break a promise to either of you. 

He would always come home.

Until he didn’t.

By now you should have been used to seeing your boyfriend go swords-first into the freshest new bullshit that superheroes seemed to attract, but your guts would always go right through the floor every time Missy turned on the news. She was so proud of her daddy, you couldn’t deny her getting to watch him save the day, but as soon as the TV screen crackled to life you knew something was wrong. 

From the news chopper’s vantage point the city street almost seemed to be writhing, a furious tangle of purple spaghetti lashing out at the Heroics, and catching them.

Massive alien appendages snapped whip-like at the world's most beloved heroes, snatching Miracle Guy and Tech-No right out of the air before they even had a chance to retaliate against the extraterrestrial menace. Blinding Fast almost managed to confuse one of the creatures, but was plucked from the air like nothing more than a mosquito, disappearing into the living entanglement. You watched, choking on your own heart, as Sharkboy and Lavagirl vanished into the seething swarm of violet tentacles, leaving only one hero left:

Marcus.

The sound of your name crackled through Missy’s telecomunication watch, the static congealing the blood ice-like in your veins. “... and Missy, my girls, I know I promised I wouldn't try to be a hero anymore…”

“Daddy!”  Missy sobbed, watching the TV helplessly as the aliens swarmed on her father. 

“Marcus! Get out of there now!” you bellowed at the watch comm, wrapping Missy up in your arms protectively; as if your own body would somehow protect Marcus too. “It’s too dangerous!”

“I know.” he pleaded, his voice breaking up on the comms. “But… I’m still the leader of the Heroics, and a good leader, leads by examp-” 

“Marcus this is no time for motivational lessons! Get out of there right now!” 

The live feed zoomed in on the last remaining Hero, close enough that you could see the sadness his determination was desperately trying to mask. He grimaced, bearing his teeth at the inevitable while drawing the swords from his back; Marcus Moreno would go down fighting if it was the last thing he did. 

“Take c-re -f Mi-sy f-r me, I love-”

The commlink crackled violently, cutting off your boyfriends’ last words; and you and Missy watched, horrified, as the undulating wall of space-tentacles swallowed Marcus whole. You saw the briefest flash of katana steel before the heliotropic hellbeast lashed at the camera, knocking the helicopter out of the sky and cutting off the feed.

And then the TV went black. 

The once roaring television glowed with a faint after-image before dying completely, leaving you and Missy alone with the memory of her father – your boyfriend – meeting his untimely demise. 

The first breath you remembered to take was a sob, a choked, ugly thing that heralded a dam of emotions breaking loose. Missy, always so strong, like her dad, trembled in your arms. 

“H-he’s.. he’s gonna come b-back, right?” she asked, her eyes glued to the blank screen. “He… he’s not gonna leave me l-like mom did, i-is he?”

“Of course not.” you ground out, sucking back the lump in your throat; you had to be strong for her. “He’s Marcus Moreno, right? Th-the leader of the Heroics? He’ll be fine.” You tightened your grip on the little girl, feeling her weight slouch into you as she crumbled. “He’s gonna be fine.” The lie tasted bitter on your tongue, but a hopeful lie was sweeter than the sickening truth. 

“He has to be.”

The days crept on without Marcus, without hearing from the Heroics headquarters, without hearing anything on the news. The whole world was just as shell-shocked as you were, the greatest heroes in the world swallowed up like a handful of extra crunchy M&M’s. Once all the Heroes had been collected, the alien swarm had just… floated off, disappearing into the clouds like they’d never been there at all. 

Missy became aloof, retreating to her room and locking the door behind her. You wanted so badly to comfort her, but she wasn’t your daughter, no matter how much it felt like she was, and you at least owed her the respect of letting her grieve in her own way; even if it was breaking your heart having to soldier it out alone. 

Six days came and went, and for the sixth day in a row you were left alone downstairs in the living room, and though the bright midday sun spilled like molten gold through the Venetian blinds, your world seemed to be getting darker by the day. Your eyes hurt from crying, your lips dry and cracked from dehydration. Once they’d been soft, not nearly as soft or as plush as Marcus’ lips – really it was unfair how pretty his pouty lips were – but it didn’t matter who had the softer lips when yours and his were pressed together. He would whisper between kisses how much he loved you, how he missed you when he was on missions, how he thought of you when he was alone, each secret punctuated with a sweet, gentle kiss.

You absently reached up to touch your lips, imagining for the briefest moment that it was your Markie coming home. A single tear trailed down your cheek when you closed your eyes to imagine, the first welling of another crying fit creeping up your throat. 

-BLAM!-

The sound of the front door nearly being thrown off its hinges made you shriek, and you grabbed the nearest heavy object – one of Missy’s karate trophies – brandishing it like a weapon at the intruder. 

“It’s me, it's me!!” Missy bellowed, raising her hands defensively. “Put the trophy down!”

“Missy?! I thought you were in your room! How the hell-” 

Words died on your tongue when you looked behind the brown-eyed girl to see the man she’d inherited them from. His eyes were glassy and distant, like he’d seen things no man should ever have to witness, but they were still the familiar eyes of the man you knew and loved.

“MARCUS?!?!”

“Hey…” he said pathetically, none of the Heroic bravado to be heard. 

“But… I saw, and… the aliens… Miracle Guy. How did… you were..?!”

“Yeah…” he trailed off slightly, shrugging. 

“It was me!” Missy chirped, making you realize that she should have been in her room still. “Well, me and the other super-kids, we saved the Heroics!” Unlike Marcus, Missy was full of energy and pride, going on to explain that she’d been sneaking out of her room to meet up with the other super-children and eventually rescued them from the aliens, discovering the power of friendship along the way.

Her story barely registered to you as you crossed the living room to Marcus, making a mental sticky note to ground Missy for at least a year for sneaking out; but that didn’t matter right now, all that mattered was that your Markie was home safe. 

Sorta. 

When you were close enough to touch him, to make his ghost flesh-and-blood by your own hands, you stopped ‐ no, recoiled – from him. Aside from his obviously exhausted state, Marcus looked terrible. His skin was dotted with large, purple, circular bruises; ugly sucker marks put there by the aliens. Those eyes of his weren’t just glassy, they were sunken and forlorn, lost in a thousand-yard stare. His shoulders sagged, and his clothes didn’t seem to fit him quite right, like they were too big for him. 

But he was Marcus, your Marcus, home at last; and when you found your courage you flung your arms around him and cried. His familiar scent washed over you, soaking your synapses in dopamine and relief. Your fingers curled like claws in his choppy curls, the familiar coarse hair an anchor clutched in your hands. It must have been the trauma of the battle, or the shock of actually making it home alive, but Marcus almost seemed to lag in hugging you back. When his arms slowly, deliberately held you, you felt his breath stutter in his chest, thankful to finally be home. 

“See?” he whispered in your ear, the warm timbre of his voice reigniting hearthfire in your chest. “I promised.”

After giving Missy the most half-assed scolding of your life, you ordered pizza delivery and sat down for what felt like the first family meal in decades. Marcus was quiet throughout, just listening to all the hijinks Missy had gotten up to in her rescue efforts; many of which were dangerous and downright wreckless, and should have earned her at least some playful chastisement from her dad, but Marcus had nothing to say. 

In fact, he had nothing to say at all. You’d known him to talk with his mouth full on many occasions, even opening his mouth to show off his cud in an attempt to gross Missy out, but she would retaliate ten times grosser; so the pizza wasn’t making him silent. You should give him time, you thought, watching Marcus nibble on the stuffed crust, he’s been through a lot. You reached out to him, setting your hand on his thigh with a gentle squeeze, coaxing him back to reality. 

Marcus looked down at your hand, then slowly back up to you, his brows knitted slightly, like he didn’t expect the contact. A thin, weak smile crept across his lips, but the corners didn’t quite reach his eyes. Not knowing what else to do, you gave him a soft pat on the leg and let him get back to his pizza. He would tell you all about it in due time.

You were all exhausted well before bedtime, finding just the quickest burst of energy inside you to round up all the dirty laundry on the master bedroom floor and chuck it in the hamper. “Heh, sorry,” you snickered, kicking a towel across the room. “Chores got away from me while you were gone.”

“Mmm.” Marcus hummed, seemingly distracted. He stripped out of his clothes with mechanized slowness, taking each item off methodically before getting in bed. 

“Marcus, are you… alright?” You asked, taking off your own clothes as well and switching into your night shirt. “I know you pretty much came back from the dead, but if you, like, want to talk about it..?”

“Mmm.” He repeated, partially muffled by the pillow and already beginning to sound like he was halfway asleep. 

“Okay, well, if you want to talk, I’m here for you whenever you need me, Markie.” you said as you climbed into bed next to him, laying with your back to his chest. “Is it ok if we snuggle? I missed you, so much. I… I never thought I would see you again.” 

He answered you by wrapping his spotted arms around you and pulling you back into himself, the heat of his chest blooming across your spine. A breath of hot air steamed past your ear, sending shivers all the way down to your toes. 

“Mis-d you… too.” Marcus mumbled faintly before he was sawing logs directly into your earhole. On any other night you would have made him roll over, but even his chainsaw snoring was a comfort tonight, anything that proved to you that he was really here. Really home. 

The only light in the room came from a Heroics-brand night light that Missy had plugged into the wall when she was six – Marcus couldn’t bear to unplug it – and the soft yellow light was just bright enough that you could see the markings on his arms. Even in the dark they were ugly; plum bruises that were raised slightly off his skin, creating long dotted lines that followed the curves of his muscles. 

He must have gotten them when the aliens grabbed him, they look like sucker marks. Horrified, but curious, you brushed at one of the circular marks, flinching when Marcus jerked in his sleep. Must be sore still, poor Markie. 

As gingerly as you could, you squeezed yourself into his embrace, letting out a well-deserved sigh of contentment. Tonight would be the first decent night of sleep either of you had probably gotten since his abduction, and all the mysteries – or horrors – from his mission could wait until morning.

Warm.

You’d almost forgotten what a human furnace Marcus could be. Wrapped up in his body you were sweating, your thighs sticky and your hair clinging to the back of your neck. Gross. You hoped that if you managed to keep your eyes closed while you got resituated you could just fall right back asleep, but as soon as you tried to throw the heavy weight of the blanket/manmeat combo off of you, it seemed to grow even heavier. 

Damn it, Markie. Blindly you fished around for his arm, tangled so much in the covers you couldn’t tell where the sheets ended and he began. Poopcicles. Reluctantly, you cracked your eyes open, wincing at the congealed eye boogies pulling on your lashes. The night-light bathed the room in a gentle teal color, making the photographs on the wall look like the ghosts from the Haunted Mansion ride you’d gone on when you took a family trip to Disney World. Huh, I didn’t know it changed colors.

You squirmed carefully, trying to dislodge the covers and finally get some fresh air, but the blankets only got tighter, heavier. Midnight confusion-panic started to set in, and even though you didn’t want to wake Marucs, or worse, exacerbate his injuries, you had to get free. You felt for the edge of the bed, trying to find a handle to pull yourself out with, but the bed itself almost seemed to be constricting you. 

You were going to have to wake Marcus up.

“Markie” you whispered, shimmying in his grip, “Markie I’m cooking, I need you to get off’a me.”

“Mmm… nooo…” 

“Marcus, I’m serious.”

“So am I, and I said no.”  Markus, fully awake, growled in your ear with more words than he’d said all day, his arms squeezing around you so tightly the air was squeezed from your lungs. 

“Marcus! I said-” you started to protest, but the vice-like grip he had on you pinned your arms to your side, finally prompting you to open your eyes all the way and look at what was keeping you hostage. 

He was.

You blinked in confusion, your sleep-addled brain trying to make sense of what you were seeing, but you had to be dreaming. Or, more likely, having a nightmare, because the splotches that marred Marcus’ skin weren’t just glowing, they were wiggling. 

The teal light in the room wasn’t coming from the night-light at all, it was coming from the bruises running up and down his skin as long, thin tendrils started to crawl out of them, wrapping around your body and tethering you to his chest. You started to scream, but Marcus clamped one calloused hand over your mouth, the luminescent threads sprouting from his wrists writhing just inches from your eyes. 

“Missed you. Missed you so much cariño.” he purred against the back of your head, the hook of his nose nudging at your ear. “So glad you were here waiting for me. Can you feel how much I’ve missed you?” Marcus growled low, punctuating his statement with a shallow thrust of his hips against your backside. Under better circumstances the hard length of his cock – still trapped in his boxers – grinding up against your ass would have made you instantly soaked, but it only caused terror to curdle in your veins. 

You thrashed, making his hand slide off your face just enough to yell “Marcus! What the hell is wrong with you?! What are thes-!” 

He cut you off again, the glowing threads surging from his skin, growing longer and thicker until they were more like tentacles, bearing the same sucker patterns as his flesh. “Shhh, hermosa, not gonna hurt you. No no, need you safe. Need you… alive.” 

The way his words dripped venomously chilled you to the bone with their inhuman resonance, almost like it wasn’t Marcus speaking at all, but rather something speaking through him. Terrified, you thrashed in the luminous coils, your eyes blowing wide as the alien tendrils slithered over your skin. One of the ones growing from his wrist crept between his fingers to your mouth, the slimy thing pushing at your lips. You pursed them tighter, but Marcus was stronger, wrenching your mouth open and forcing the tentacle inside. 

“That’s it. See? Not so bad, is it?” he cooed while the appendage explored the cavern of your mouth, leaving slime on your teeth that tasted strangely like fruity pebbles. Fear gave way to anger, and in your panic-rage you bit down on the creature, puncturing right through its flesh like an overripe peach; and just like a peach, biting into it flooded your mouth with sweet juices that made your head spin, fogging your thoughts and clouding your mind.“Careful now, don’t drink too much. Need you to stay awake for me.” 

Behind you, Marcus rutted against your ass again, and this time the familiar desire you had for your usually sweet, gentle boyfriend flooded down your spine and pooled between your legs unbidden, turning the sweat on your skin cold with the change in body temperature. Another surge of nectar oozed on your tongue, making your cunt clench against your will. 

“Mmm, you smell good, I can smell the heat coming from you.” Marcus seethed, nibbling on the shell of your ear, his bites sharper than usual. “Do you feel as wet as you smell? Let's find out.” 

Strong, glowing ropes twisted you around without giving you an inch to struggle free, rolling you on to your back as Marcus clambered on top of you, and the sight of him froze you in place. 

“Mrkus!?” you shriek-mumbled into his hand, unable, or unwilling, to believe that the blue-skinned, blue-eyed creature pinning you down could be your beloved Marcus. His eyes glowed brighter than the tentacle patches on his arms, drowning his pupils in their sapphire light. His once bronze skin matched the teal that permeated the room, flecked with tiny green and yellow lights between long bands of violet.

But worst of all were the writhing, slithering appendages sprouting from all over his body, waving like the arms of an anemone in a gentle current. The extraterrestrial horror bore the familiar face of your Heroic, even if it was twisted with a malicious grin that revealed razor-sharp rows of teeth.

Whatever that was, it wasn’t Marcus.

“You’re perfect. Do you know that?” the thing mused, tilting its head slightly, almost playfully. “As soon as I took over this body I knew I had to meet you. So pretty, so perfect. You’re all he thinks about, you know, how much he desires you. Wants you, needs you.” Marcus-not-Marcus trailed his free hand down your body, groping at your breast through your flimsy moomoo. “You know what he desires most from you though?” he asked, placing a broad palm gently on your belly. “He wants to put a baby in you, desperately. That’s why I chose him as my host.” You squeaked in surprise, shock etching your features, but the fear was quickly erased when delicious fruit juice surged in your mouth again, making you arch into his touch. “Tsk tsk, what, he never told you? What a shame, I can tell you want that too, though, don’t you? Let’s see just how much...”

Splotches on Marcus’s thighs flared to life, growing long, luminous tentacles that slipped and slithered over your belly, your waist, your hips, gathering at the apex of your legs. Marcus didn’t need to use his human arms to slip under your night clothes and tug your panties down, the thick appendages dexterous enough to do it for him. The glow in his eyes faltered almost like they were fluttering when the scent of your arousal hit him, his cock jumping in his boxers. “Oh you are perfect, going to take me so well, won’t you?” 

You wanted to scream no, but your intoxicated, traitorous body arched with need, your nipples perky and your cunt dripping with slick. Marcus generously gave you another dose of his nectar before releasing your mouth, rocking back on his haunches to get a better look at you. You should have tried to escape, but whatever was in his toxic slime kept you rooted to the bed, desperate and needy. 

"Mmm.. Marcus…" you managed to squeak out, finding your voice half-drowned in ambrosia. "Wh…what do you want with me?"

"Oh, to breed you, of course, my pretty little pet." Marcus chuckled, grinning like a fox at your terror. "You're fertile, I can smell it." The tips of his tentacles dragged over the soaking wet folds of your cunt, their soft, velvety tips ghosting at your clit, teasing you almost as much as his words. "I'm gonna make you cum until you forget your own name, pretty thing, then you'll be ready to take my seed. Let’s make Marcus’s dreams come true and fill that belly.”

The creature ran his bluish palms over your heated skin, taking generous handfuls of you to squeeze and knead, his caress leaving you breathless and unable to protest. Behind him, the luminous tendrils swayed in a silent dance, their seductive light show almost hypnotic; the little lights coursing and flashing like those sea critters you’ve seen on the nature channel. Why did they do that? You tried to remember, your conscious will fading by the second. Was it to seduce a mate… or capture prey?

No answer came from your lust-drunk mind, and no words came from your lips except a strained, needy whine when Marcus started teasing his tips at your puffy wet hole. They worked in tandem, sliding past each other, gathering your slick up with their own ooze, prying you open bit by bit. 

“You’re so eager, my pet,” purred the creature, leaning his weight on your thighs while his appendages did the work for him. The thinner ones growing from his arms trailed lightly over your sensitive skin, leaving little wet kisses in their wake that tingled enticingly. “You want more?”

You looked away from him, desperate not to let the alien know how much you wanted him, needed him to sate your desires; but your whore mouth betrayed you almost immediately. “Mmmhmm…”

“What was that, beautiful?” Marcus asked, words smoked with malicious intent. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

“Yes!” You cried as the thick lengths dipped deeper inside you, pulling your lips apart while a third lapped at your swollen clit. “P-please Marcus…”

Marcus growled at the sound name, the tent in his pants pitching. “Fuck yes keep begging. I wanna hear how much you need it.”

“Please… please Marcus, need… I need…” Desire won out over your shame, your fear, your animal instinct to fucking run; and you turned to face the creature, your pleading eyes meeting his glowing blues. “I need you.”

“Good girl.” he snarled, almost as much to himself as to you. “And good girls get what they deserve.”  Marcus plunged his tentacles deep inside your aching cunt, making your back arch and your breath catch almost painfully in your throat. His juices mixed with your own, letting him slip all the way to your core, filling you up to the brim on the first thrust. “Thatta girl. Gotta get you all stretched out first, make sure I can fit in you.” 

The thunder of your pounding heart drowned out the words spilling from his lips, leaving you with only a vague itch in the back of your mind wondering what could possibly be bigger. Thick, juicy tendrils curled and squirmed inside you, making wet, obscene squelches every time they coiled around each other and thrust back in. A third, thinner arm strummed at your pearl, its azure skin silky smooth against your sensitive bundle of nerves, perfectly adapted to play you like a slutty little fiddle. 

And oh, what a pretty song you sang.

Lust-drunk in the aliens’ clutches you were helpless to fight against your own body, squirming on the bed just as Marcus’s appendages were squirming inside you. Every sinful slosh set your nerves on fire and made your eyes water, screams dying in your throat when he pushed against the gates of your womb, sliding against it with tongue-like dexterity. 

“Are you going to cum, sweetheart?” Marcus leered, palming at his bulge. “I can feel you getting close, cum for me so I can give you this.” 

The un-Marcus dramatically dug his thumbs into the waistband of his straining boxers and hiked them down over the swell of his length, revealing what you hoped would be his final secret. The glow of his eyes dimmed with relief, but yours only blew wide open at the sight of him. 

His cock was monstrous, in more than one sense of the word. Not only was it the thickest damn dick you’d ever seen in your life, it was also glowing like the tentacles growing from his back and arms; strobing with a slow violet-purple pattern down his shaft in time with his heartbeat. A trio of neon-bright seams ran from the curls at his base all the way up to the tip, where the usually blunt head of a mans’ cock had tapered into petal-like points that curled open slightly; the whole contraption looking more like a flower native to an alternate dimension rather than a penis. 

Marcus took advantage of your shocked face to thrum your clit while stuffing as much of himself in you as he could fit, bringing the stars he’d come from personally to you, the lights of a thousand worlds exploding behind your eyes as you tipped over the edge. Your mixed slick surged out of your swollen cunt, decorating Marcus in your arousal for him to wear like a medal across his star-spangled chest. 

“That’s much better, hermosa, nice and stretchy for me,” he teased, using his tentacles as well as his blunt fingers to pry your soaked folds apart, taking greedy eyefulls of the way you pulsed and fluttered under his touch, your cum leaking and dribbling down your ass. 

You were spiralling like a galaxy, struggling to come down from your rocket-propelled high. As the stars cleared from your vision, you were able to see the Marcus creature shuffle forward on his knees and line his pulsating bloom up with your needy wet hole. Fear had abandoned you entirely, or your boyfriend’s replacement had stolen it from you. Either way, he looked enough like Marcus; those dark, tousled curls straight from the covers of paperback romance novels, the half-moon of his nose that used to nuzzle into your neck so sweetly when you slept together, and even his bristly smile was still there – though the teeth were wrong, the dimple was just right.

It was good enough for you.

“I’m ready, Markie…” you babbled, reaching down to pull your knees further apart, spreading yourself wide open for your transcendental lover. “Fill me up, I want you.”

The cosmic entity halted, tilting his head at you slightly, a look of confusion spreading across his handsome features. “You… want me? I… I didn’t give you that much toxin…”

“I do. I want you, Marcus.” 

That was the trick. Somewhere inside that pretty face was Marcus, your Marcus, and hearing his name always made him so soft, so pliable, ready to meet any and all of your needs. Sweet, loving Marcus – dedicated dad and fearless hero – was still in that otherworldly body. Somewhere. 

“Then you shall have me.” he confessed, almost prayer-like, before surging himself forward, the light in the room shifting as his radiant spire vanished inside you. You nearly came again just from him stuffing you like a holiday turkey, the meat of him pushing against your pelvic bones from the inside. Through your lashes you saw his cosmic eyes flutter closed, lost in the pleasure of carnal connection. “Oh… oh hermosa.” he stuttered, his breath husky already. “I didn’t know humans could feel so good!”

“D-don’t stop yet, Markie, it… it gets better.” You rasped, feeling the control tip slightly in your favor. “Gotta move, big boy.” 

He looked confused until you rocked your hips under him, making his luminous length drag through your walls and drawing a long, animalistic groan from his lips. The grip he had on you, both arms and wigglers, lessened for only a moment while he basked in the sensation before his instincts took over like the calm before the storm.

The force of him slamming into you made the entire bed squeak and nearly sent you careening into the headboard. Fingers and tendrils clutched you desperately, the Marcus mimic spooling you into his body to hold you captive while he took his pleasure. Every rock of his hips made the light in the room strobe between yellow and blue, the flash flash flash of him fucking you matched by the coursing patterns on his skin; pulsing to a rhythm older than time.

You were captivated by the hypnotic light show, the aphrodisiac flooding your veins making Marcus seem to glow brighter than his bioluminescent self, almost as if the universe was falling away from where you two were connected until only the two of you remained; a mortal and a miracle. 

“Marcus…” you purred, reaching up to splay your hands across his hot, sticky chest. You could feel the race of his heart beat, the stutter in his breath, the heat of his need; and it made you clench. “Fuck yes M-Marcus… h-harder…” 

He spat in a series of clicks and chitters, the noise sounding somewhat like a curse. “You keep doing that and I'm not going to last much longer, babygirl.”

“Is that a threat… or a promise?” You chided, locking your legs around his snatched little waist and dragging him down to your level. Marcus half growled, half gasped in surprise with the new angle and the sudden lack of space between you. With his face only inches from yours, you could see the shimmering pupils hiding in the haze of his glow, blown wide and focused on you alone. His eyes glanced from yours, then down to your parted lips, a curious expression creasing his brow, revealing in him something fundamentally human. 

You answered his unasked question, slotting your lips to his in a celestial kiss. He whimpered into you, the human part of him fighting to indulge the desire the alien part was trying desperately to circumvent; but Marcus – your Marcus – was stronger. He tasted sweet and sugary, the taint of nectar coating his lips like gloss and drawing you hungrily into him. You felt him shift as he kissed you back, a strong arm slipping under you to cradle the back of your head and hold you just like he always did when you made love; with the fun new perk of his tentacles threading through your hair.

You dragged your nails over his scalp and tugged his hair gently, making his hips rut and stutter. Marcus let his tongue explore your mouth, dancing with yours and tempting you to indulge in his, but the sharp nick of his teeth quickly deterred you. He mumbled a laugh and chased after you, nipping at your tongue and lower lip; not enough to break the skin, but enough to remind you of his power over you.

When the hair was prickling on the back of your neck, you tore yourself from his lips, offering the expanse of your throat for him to claim. Marcus willingly, devoutely, kissed along your jaw towards your neck, savoring the curves and valleys that lead him to the dip of your collarbone and the rise of your breasts. He kissed the swell of each one, letting his thrusts slow to a gentle cadence so he could savor the taste of your skin. His lips closed around one pert nipple, sucking the tender bud into his hot wet mouth where he could swirl his tongue around it, the sharp edges of his teeth making your flesh break out in goosebumps. 

You keened and arched into him, loving the way the halfmoon of his nose pressed into the plush of your breast, his breath fiery on your skin. Deliriously, your eyes fluttered open to watch, a feeble mewl squeaking from your lips at the creature pleasuring you. You could see his back and spine clearly with his head dipped to suckle from you; each vertebra marked with a deep indigo splotch, drawing a dotted line between where the thick, swaying tentacles erupted from his skin. Their bright blue fluorescence pulsed and undulated with the swing of his hips and the swirl of his tongue, drawing your hands to them. 

When you drew your fingertips in a circle around the base of the nearest serpentis arm, Marcus gasped and crumpled against your sternum, his tentacles quivering in pleasure. 

“Wh… what was that?” he asked breathlessly, peeling his sweat-sticky face from your breast, glaring at you with mixed emotions. You hummed villainously and snagged a second tendril, spooling and threading it between your fingers as if it was a pretty ribbon you were trying to smooth. 

The effect was instantaneous. In your hands the appendage quivered and flashed, the chromatophores in its skin overstimulated with pleasure. Behind it and all down Marcus’s back the rest of them went ramrod straight, becoming almost wing-like with how they pulsed and shivered. 

“F-fuck…th-that feels… feels good…” the interstellar angel snarled, his bright eyes rolling back in his head. “Keep doing th-that… and… and I’ll…”

“You’ll what, Markie?” you purred, taking another pretty length in your other hand and winding them both around your wrists like you were taking the reins. “Say it.”

-YANK!-

“Cum!!” Marcus threw his head back when you pulled on his sensitive growths, thrusting himself as deeply into you as he could.

And oh, how deep did he go!

The blossom within you throbbed where it pulsed against your cervix, spilling molten syrup from its petaled tip that gushed down your walls to splatter obscenely across your thighs. You tugged him harder into you, feeling your mind go fuzzy with the neurotoxin surging through your body combined with the power trip you were getting from bringing the mighty celestial to heel. 

You clenched around him, trying to draw out his orgasm, but lost all your bravado when you felt your core muscles squeeze him so hard that something popped. 

“Oh shit! Marcus what was…!?” you started to panic, thinking you broke his fucking dick, but he was totally lost in his ecstacy, only pleasure creasing his handsome features.

“Not.. done… with… you…” he ground out, his fingers curling like claws under your legs, his vines tangling around your limbs so there was nowhere for you to run. Inside your fluttering cunt you felt his cock start to writhe, and three distinct petals began to slide along your walls, stretching you impossibly wider.

“Wh.. M-Marcus?!” you peeped, helpless in his grasp. “What are you…oh!” 

The flower petals surged forwards, pushing through the tight ring of muscle that guarded your innermost sanctum and gaping it open for something else to slither inside. A central core, smooth and slick, crept inside your belly and began pumping you full of something warm and gooey. You gasped, the foreign feeling of Marcus invading your womb had you shivering from the sensation, your breath lodging tighter in your throat with every pulse of molten seed filling you fuller and fuller and fuller until you could feel a tightness in your guts, a tautness to your skin.

Ensnared in your alien lovers embrace, you watched helplessly as the creature filled your belly to the literal brim, and with his cock so perfectly wedged, there was nowhere for his seed to go but in, causing your tummy to bulge and swell with his essence, rounding you as if Marcus had filled you with his own child. 

“Marcus…” you rasped, your voice broken down to whisper. Above you, Marcus, with eyes screwed shut and jaw set tight, heaved a mighty sigh of relief at the sound of his name. The throbbing began to subside as his orgasm drew to a close, his heaven-sent mission finally complete. A sheepish smile crept across his face, and his eyes fluttered sluggishly back open, their light starting to dim. 

“Thank you, beautiful.” he purred, slowly unspooling his writhing tangles from your arms and legs. “See you again real soon.”

In your hands, the luminous reins you’d used to take control of the invader began to lose their glow; first flickering, then fizzling out completely, until they started to wither and die before your very eyes. As they shriveled towards his body, Marcus himself also began to lose his luminosity, the bluish-purple fading back to the soft gold tones you’d grown to love before you’d lost him. His anemoneic wings waggled briefly, lost their light, then curled in on themselves like sleepy ferns, coiling towards his spine until they receded entirely. Soon enough it was just you and Marcus, Marcus Marcus, with only the faintest blotches dotting his skin where his appendages had just been. 

Well, that, and the sizable swell of your belly cradled between the two of you.

Now that your arms were free, you dragged them up to feel the gift Marcus had given you. You were so taken aback by its suddenness that you hardly registered the rope burns his tentacles had put on your wrists. Your belly was warm to the touch, the skin tight and achy, but not too painful; whatever he’d filled you with must have also contained a numbing agent. You pressed on yourself gently, feeling the alien’s spend slosh slightly inside you. The motion surprised you with a release of oxytocin, making your heart swell and your eyes water with unearned joy. 

And, oddly enough, you couldn’t help smiling.

“B-babygirl?” a fucked-out voice asked, snapping your attention to poor confused Marcus. His big puppydog eyes were so wide, the chocolate drops of his irises drowning in the milk-whites. His thick dark hair stuck to his brow in mats, the curls reaching all the way to his raised brows. “What… what’s going on?” he panted, glancing from you to your tummy, horror creeping into his features. “Oh my god, how long was I gone?!”

“Markie? Is that really you?” you asked, starting to sit up, but shifting made you painfully aware of him still inside you. It seemed to shock him into gear as well, and he instinctively started trying to pull out. You felt the last remains of the not-Marcus slip from your cunt, making a pleasurable shiver shoot up your spine. 

“Oh fuck, I-I’m sorry, baby, I-I don’t understand-” he babbled as he freed himself, his words lost with the sight between your legs. Bright purple ooze seeped from your snatch, bubbling with dozens of tiny, egg-like orbs. “What… what the fu-”

“Marcus!” You rolled forwards as gracefully as a balloon full of mashed potatoes, throwing your arms around your Markie-poo. “Fucking hell it is you! You got abducted by those aliens you tried to fight a week ago, the squiggly purple ones. You don’t remember?”

“A week?” he sputtered, shocked. “But… then what…?” he cupped your belly gingerly, as if his Heroic touch would break you. “Who?!”

“You.” you said, the hurt audible in your voice. “Just now.”

“Bwu-huh?!” He couldn’t wrap his head around it all; the suddenness of everything. Suddenly in the moment, suddenly aware, suddenly a father-to-be of… something. He couldn’t take his eyes off your swell, dragging his rough palms across your tight skin towards the scene of the crime still leaking from your cunt. Confusion and horror gave way to curiosity, and foolishness, when Marcus poked at the pretty slime. It stuck to his fingers, making the squishy pearls difficult to peel off, so instead he pushed them back in, his lips quirking in a coy, cutesy manner. “...you’re warm.”

Ain’t that just like a man. You snickered at Marcus, humming contentedly when he used a thick, calloused finger to push the celestial spunk back up inside you, though without the extra appendages it would probably just fall back out later. You weren’t sure if you could say the same about what was in your womb, though. Markie’s pecker had gone completely back to normal, if not slathered in bright pink jelly, but you seemed to be stuck with a full tank. 

“You.. are you ok? Does this hurt?” he asked with his usual sweet dad-like concern once he remembered where the goop was coming from, casting wary glances at your newest addition.

“Nuh-uh, feels weird, but not… bad?”

“That’s good… cuz uh…” he turned away sheepishly, a crimson flush creeping across his cheeks to the tips of his ears. “You look really pretty like this…” 

“So it’s true then, you… do want…” 

“What? No! I mean, yes! Uh… fuck, wait… hey, don’t laugh at me!” 

 “Then spit it out, Markie!”

“You look cute pregnant!”  he spat, his face going ten shades redder. “And yes, I do want a baby with you. I want a sibling for Missy… and… I love you. I love you so much I want more of you, but… um… only if you.. would want…”

“Yes, Marcus. I do want.” you pulled him to you, pressing your forehead to his. “Yes, but I want yours, not ET’s.”

“Right. Right. Yeah, uh, we should probably get you to the Heroics medical center sooner rather than later, I’m sure they can get… whatever that is, cleaned out. Should probably have those bruises looked at too, they look pretty bad.”

“Oh, they’re not that bad.” you replied, holding your wrists up to examine the slutty welts his tentacles had put there. “Looks like we’ve been getting up to some kinky shit together, which, I mean, technically-”

“No, not those,”  Marcus took your hands in his, pausing to kiss each of your purpled wrists with delicate, whisker-lipped smooches before gently turning your arms over and pushing them towards your chest, showing you the backs of your forearms. It was hard to see without a mirror, but your blood turned to ice in your veins at the sight of the familiarly large, dark-purple circles beginning to bloom on your skin.

“Those...”

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[twilightt-fantasy]

Caius Volturi Masterlist

bonding -  can I request a Caius imagine? Perhaps a bonding moment between him and reader

talking - can I get a Caius reaction to the reader sleep talking? Make it sweet, make it funny, do whatever you like!

introvert - could you do a Caius Volturi x reader where she is his mate and a Brazilian vampire, who is very calm and introverted and loves to read?(Could you also add that the Cullen’s are surprised when they met her?)

history - can you please do a Caius x reader in which his mate is a big fan of history and keeps asking him about important historical events due to him being a vampire and Caius finding it extremely adorable?!?!

kiss me harder - hello love, could you do #53 from the prompt list thingie with Caius?? (Against the wall kiss.)

mine - can I get a uhhhhh 61 with Caius?? (”You’re mine. I don’t share.”)

you - 3 with Caius Volturi please! :D (“You’re the only one I want.”)

school trip - could you do an imagine with Caius meeting his mate for the first time, his mate being a young innocent teenager?

immortal child - one where the reader is categorize as a immortal child, maybe she’s Caius child before he was changed and when he did get turned he changed her by accident since he thought he had killed her; and the volturi comes across her and Caius is just happy to have his child back in his life. Maybe that’s why he’s also so bitter and cold hearted

christmas morning - for the Christmas requests maybe a Caius fluff of him spoiling his mate with gifts and like gift opening on Christmas morning? Thanks!❤️

white christmas - could I pls request something with cauis where it’s snowing and she is so excited because it doesn’t really snow where she was from.

love - can I request a imagine with Caius, where his mate is a shy skittish girl and she is like always attracted to his sleeve or hand, and one day she wonders away from him and a vampire mistakes her for there food and tries to attack her and Caius saves her and just comforts her, and he thinks it’s best she lives away from the castle but she rejects his offer to stay with him and he is just blown away that she loves him. Thank you!

reminiscence - Hey! First of all, I simply love your blog and second of all, I was wondering if I could request an imagine with Caius where the reader and him spend some quality time with each other, cuddling near the fireplace (bonus points if they're one of the oldest married couples in Volterra) and they reminisce all of their years together? Ups and downs? Basically, good old tooth rotting, old married power couple fluff. I understand if you are not able to do this, but I just had the idea. Merry Christmas

sister (+ aro/marcus) - where the reader is Bell’s littile sister. And she finds out she is the Volturi King’s mate during the battle.

hit on (+ aro/marcus) - do you think I might be able to request an imagine where the reader is mated to the Kings (like a poly relationship.) And she gets hit on/cat called by one of the lower guards. Possibly someone else sees, and spreads it throughout the guard until the Kings eventually find out?

burn (+ aro/marcus) - maybe the Volturi Kings with a fem!mate (all three mated to the same person.) who accidentally burns herself (its super small, but she still feels it but she brushes it off) Anyways the Kings see and they FREAK because fire is like the only thing that can completely kill a vampire. Thanks so much 😊

trouble (+ aro/marcus) - a poly relationship with the reader and the Volturi leaders where the reader wants to outside, but her mates say no, but she sneaks out anyway, and something terrible happens. 

witch (+ aro/marcus) - can I request a scenario in which the reader is the three volturi kings mate (like a poly relationship) but not a human. She’s actually a which and can’t be turned into a vamp bc she’s already supernatural. While witches don’t age past 21, they don’t have super strength or healing like vamps, which is why they’re really protective of her. Thing is she hates it, bc she can protect herself with magic and doesn’t like being coddled

protection (+ aro/marcus) - can I have 57 with Caius, Aro and Marcus? As a poly ask? Thank youu💕💕(“Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself.”)

snow day (+ aro/marcus) - Can I request a one-shot for Christmas with the kings and they mate. Them love the christmas time and go out the castle/escape to see the snow falling in Volterra on a beautiful day. Would be funny and romantic awww! ❄☃️🖤

baby (+ aro/marcus) - In your opinion how would react and act the three Volturi king (as a poly or not, what you prefer) with a s/o who is a single mother with a very young kid (like 2-3 y/o). They would accept the baby? They would think about him/her as theirs? If yes, when the baby calls them “dad” what woul be their reaction?

costume party (+ aro/marcus) - the reader is excited to show her mates her costume

midnight snacks (+aro/marcus) - 1 with the volturi kings from the Christmas prompt list (“Are you eating cookies right now? It’s 3 AM!” “If Santa can do it so can I.”)

enough for you (+ aro/marcus) - Can I Request the volturi kings (poly or separate either is fine) with a mate who feels like they aren’t good enough for them. Like maybe they are bit more childish and scatterbrained (maybe they have adhd and/or dyslexia) for their age. And they feel so inferior like even the receptionist who is younger than them is way more put together. Thanks!

stand up (+aro/marcus) - I have yet to see any of these (kinda?-) But I was hoping if you could do a Poly relationship with the Volturi kings, where the reader is shy as heck and is related to the one and only, Bella swan?

stress relief - the kings worry that their mate is pushing herself too hard.

standstill - can I get a Volturi Kings story of sorts where the reader is Bella's aunt from Charlie's side, she is their mate and they find out she is pregnant with their baby. how would they handle it?

broken bones - Can you write poly volturi kings with a mate who broke her arm because i broke mine recently and i feel like shit. Thank you and you dont have to do this if you dont want to <33

volturi kings with a childish s/o 

poly relationship with volturi kings

[cowboy-turtle]

14+ Marcus Moreno - Marcus' long-time soulmate girlfriend buying breakfast for dinner for Missy and Marcus for Missy's 13th birthday

this one was fun - i’ve never done soulmate au before so i hope this is in the vein of what you were imagining? thank you for sending in a request! (also, our birthdays are 3 days apart - pisces supremacy 💕)

February Fluff Prompt #14: “Let’s go, I’ll buy you dinner. And maybe breakfast.”

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Soulmate gn!Reader

Words: 1.1k

Tags: established relationship; fluff

ct’s february fluff prompt list | masterlist

“Happy birthday, Missy Moo,” Marcus’s voice filters through his daughter’s door you were about to enter through, waiting just outside instead to let him finish. The newly teenaged girl heaves a deep sigh.

“I’m sorry I can’t be there to celebrate with you both,” the voicemail continues. “But just know when I get back from this mission we’re going to have a whole day together to celebrate. I’ll take you out of school for it too, maybe on the day of that science test you’re dreading?” his voice lowers then. “But don’t tell your abuela I offered that.”

You bite back a laugh at Marcus’s deserved fear of his mother before you hear him end the message with a quick “I love you, mija, I’ll see you soon”, the telltale sign of Missy flopping back onto her bed telling you all you need to know about how she’s feeling. You offer a gentle knock to announce yourself, a small sniffle coming from the other end before you hear a soft “come in”.

“Hi, honey,” you try to soothe, watching her rub an eye angrily. She scoots on the bed to make room for you nonetheless, curling into your side when you sit.

“He didn’t even make it to breakfast like he said he would,” she muffles against you. “We always have breakfast on my birthday.”

She huffs and turns the other way, embarrassment over wanting to act mature at this big, new age battling with vulnerability in still wanting the comfort of her father’s presence. You knew how special this day was for her, how special it was for the both of you.

Missy’s birthday had been one of the first instances you recognized your connection to Marcus, the chaos of single parenting making him write down a grocery list of eggs, bacon, and pancake mix on his arm when he couldn’t find a notepad. The words had appeared slowly on your skin too, confusing you thousands of miles away. You searched through your desk for a pen, adding orange juice? underneath his writing until his words faded away from view. Half an hour later you glanced at another scrawl peeking under your sleeve. Thank you, he’d written back.

You’d gotten to know each other that way for weeks, scribbling notes back and forth across your skin until one day you were bold enough to write down your phone number, anxiously biting a fingernail until your phone buzzed with an incoming call.

“Hey,” he said nervously, then laughed. “Um, hi. Is this…weird and exciting for you too?”

You laughed and agreed, but when he asked if you wanted to grab dinner you had to break the news that you lived across the country, all the way by the coastline. That didn’t deter Marcus, though, not when he had the chance to be with his other half. When he became leader of the Heroics later that year and was tasked with relocating headquarters, it didn’t take a second thought where he wanted to end up. It’d taken some time for Missy to adjust to the move, but she took to the beach like waves to the shore.

“How about me and you go do something?” you ask her now, combing your fingers through the ripples of her hair. “Didn’t you want to go to that new cosmic bowling place?”

She sits up, intrigued. “But that happens after my bedtime.”

“You only turn thirteen once,” you smile at her, “and I won’t tell your dad if we stay up that late.”

“Really?”

You scooch off the bed, nodding towards the door. “Let’s go, I’ll buy you dinner.” You give her a conspiratorial wink. “And maybe breakfast.”

Missy squeals with delight. “You’ll really let me stay out that late?”

You laugh as she races past for you to grab her shoes, too hellbent on going out she doesn’t notice how you slow to write down something on your forearm. The message disappears before you join her in the car.

You drive down Missy’s favorite scenic route along the beach, wind whipping through her hair from the rolled down windows and the bubblegum pop station of her choice blaring out for her to sing along to. You pull over along the way to admire the sunset, snapping a few selfies together to commemorate her birthday. The road trip ends at a seaside diner, the same one Marcus and Missy go to every year on this day once they moved here. By that time Missy had grown enough to admit to her dad that his cooking was barely passable, and so hastily-written grocery lists turned into stacks of diner pancakes.

She insists they make the best ones, so it’s breakfast for dinner tonight as Missy regales you with the plot of the newest episode of a teen drama she’s obsessed with. She’s so focused on telling you about the latest love triangle she almost doesn’t notice the small fudge sundae being placed on the table, a single candle burning on top of it.

Missy looks up, expecting your waiter and shrieks with joy, jumping from her seat into Marcus’s arms.

She asks him questions a mile a minute about his mission, but her most pressing one is “How’d you know where we were?”

He holds up his forearm, the diner name you’d written still visible on his skin. “I had a little help.”

Marcus slides into the booth after his daughter as you push your coffee mug to him.

“I ordered your favorite,” you tell him and he gives you an appreciative wink in response, arm stretching across the back of the seat as you wait for your food to arrive, listening to him launch into the full mission report for his enraptured audience of two.

Cosmic bowling is soon forgotten, swapped in for hours spent around the table until Missy’s head droops against Marcus’s shoulder.

He pats her affectionately. “Let’s get you home, kiddo.”

He signs the check as you walk her to the car, sliding into the passenger seat as Marcus rejoins you to start the engine. Once he’s in drive he reaches across the console for your hand, intertwining your fingers.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, “for everything.”

The different position of your wrist teases new ink from under your jacket, and as Marcus turns his attention back to the road you pull up the cuff. He must have written it moments ago with the diner pen, the twin message visible on his arm holding the steering wheel. It sits on the very same spot you’d both written it on the very first time.

I love you, it reads, always and forever

--

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[soccerximagines]

Can I request a Marcus Rashford imagine where you're a Youtuber Marcus has politely accepted making a video with you. After the greetings, you do a mini interview, asking him about his feelings during and after the Euros and then giving your own opinion on how pissed off it made you when people were throwing racist comments left right centre and you were very passionate and sensitive about the topic, saying thing like 'it's ironic cos lions are from Africa', getting worked up by the thought alone. You're both constrasting characters, he's very reserved, more observant while you're a performer, always at your highest level energy which brings him out of his shell much quicker than usual. Then you play a game of Fifa together, that being the original video plan and Marcus is impressed by how well you play. You're both competitive spirits so there's a lot of feist and back and forth little beef. He scores one first, then you happen to score two, winning the game. Once the camera's are down, you exchange numbers and he asks you out on a date, all shy and blushy. Thanks

Q&As and FIFA

"Hey everybody, this is Y/N! Welcome back to my channel," you greeted the camera with a bright smile. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined your channel to get this far when you first started filming videos. You had started of as a typical teenage girl, filming her newest purchases on her phone and posting them, and were now one of the most followed  YouTubers in Britain.

"With me today I have a very special guest, you already know who it is from the title and thumbnail but..." laughing you made some horribly executed drum roll-sounds. "it's Marcus Rashford!"

Sitting next to you Marcus shyly smiled and gave the camera a little wave. "Hello everybody!"

"I know I'm not the only one who watched the Euros and though Marcus was super cute," with those words you turned to Marcus and gave him an excessive wink, "so I was so stoked when he accepted my invite to join one of my videos. Thanks, Marcus."

Marcus gave you a nod, "My pleasure, I love your channel." He fumbled a little over his words, clearly flustered by you complementing him; but hoped you didn't notice it. Your confidence was something he admired greatly. If he had been more outspoken himself - he would have admitted to finding you cute as well, maybe even mentioned how he had crushed on you for ages - but admitting to liking your channel was the best he dared to do.

"Aww, stop it," you laughed while waving a hand in the air. "Okay, so I know I told you the plan was for us to play some FIFA but I actually have something else in mind first, obviously only if it's okay for you."

Your words made him a little nervous, but he forced himself to give you a smile; one which he hoped appeared confident. "I'm up for anything!"

"Great, so I had my subscribers send in some questions, so I was thinking we could do a little Q and A first?"

The idea of a Q and A calmed him down a little. Interviews was something he was used to. If only he managed to convince himself that it was a regular interviewer asking the questions; and not his long-term celebrity crush.

"Sure!"

The first couple of questions were pretty basic and required short answers. Such as 'What's your favorite color?' and 'How would your dream team look?' Eventually, however, you moved onto deeper topics - such as the finale and his missed penalty.

"I know this is probably hard to talk about," you said, "and if you don't want to answer we can cut this part, but someone asked how it's been for you after the penalties?"

Marcus took a deep breath before answering.

"Well, it was really tough obviously. Representing your country is a really special feeling, especially when you end up not doing as well as you had hoped. Whilst most people have been extremely supportive, others have been extremely disrespectful.." as the topic of racism was brought up Marcus dragged a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Obviously racism isn’t anything new, but it's always extremely disappointing to see that it still exists so much of it."

With a nod you decided to speak up on the topic too. "I totally get that.. Firstly I just want to say that, no matter what some people might say, you were amazing and made England, including me, so proud! And secondly, the racist comments really pissed me off as well. I obviously can't imagine how it is for you to be the one receiving the comments, all I can say is that they're ridiculous!" You let out a frustrated sigh, feeling quite strongly about the subject. "If I see any racist comments on this video, I'll seriously hunt you down," you threatened, pointing a finger at the camera.

Deciding that it was a good time to wrap up the interview and start playing FIFA, you playfully pushed Marcus in the shoulder. "I got to warn you, I'm quite competitive so don't expect me to go easy on you because you're a guest!"

Marcus laughed, "Oh, I think I'll manage." Normally he wouldn't feel comfortable about joking around like this with someone he had just met, but your easygoing nature really brought out the best in him.

"You're actually really good," Marcus pointed out just as he scored. "It won't be such an easy win for me," he smirked, "I'll give you that." Rolling your eyes you focused on the game, tongue poking out in concentration.

Seconds later you managed to score your own goal. Letting out a celebratory scream, you turned to him. "Think you spoke a little too quick there, Mr. Professional Footballer."

"Rematch with real football," Marcus pouted as you scored yet again and ended up winning the game. Laughing you turned to the camera and raised your eyebrows, as in to say 'Can you believe this man?'

The two of you said your goodbyes to the camera, wrapping up for today. Marcus had been trying to muster up the courage to ask you out for the entire video. He almost decided to back out, but knowing that you probably wouldn't see each other again after this - he spoke up.

"Would you want to go out sometime?"

His hands were clammy and his heart was racing as he waited for you to answer.

You beamed as you gave him a small hug.

"I would love to!"

[the-purity-pen]

All My Life

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Fem!Reader

Rating: G (for now) Warning: None. Just a lot of pining. Word Count: 2,144 A/N: I threw this idea out like over a month ago to you all after watching the movie and you all loved it! I’ve finally finished the first part of this story! I hope you all enjoy!

“Marcus and Missy Moreno Save the World Again”

The headline dashed across the bottom of your television screen as clips of the Heroics defeating an invading robotic alien flashed on the screen. The news reporters were rambling on about the details of the attack and how the Morenos and the others had stopped the invaders.

The smile on your face as you packed your suitcase was undeniable. It was wonderful to see the next generation of Heroics take over. Especially after your own departure from the original gang. You hadn’t kept in straight contact with many of them aside from Jasmine and Alana.

They both had been texting you for the last week to ensure you were actually going to attend the reunion. You didn’t know why they were so insistent on you going but you’d absolutely be lying to say you weren’t excited to get back together and have something other than work to focus on.

Becoming a consultant for recruiting new Heroics wasn’t always a glamorous job and your deadlines for meeting quotas were constantly breathing down your neck. But knowing that you were still making an impact even if your powers were mostly underwraps and not used in a big way, was enough to make your job and your move all those years ago worth it.

Your phone buzzed as you attempted to zip the suitcase, pushing down with your entire body weight to try to slide the metal zipper. You grunted and puffed air up out of your mouth and shook your head. You should know better than to overpack but you were trying to make sure you were prepared for anything for the weekend that you’d be back home.

You took a sharp breath in and reached for your phone where it sat on your nightstand. Seeing the messages flying in from Jasmine and Alana made you laugh. They were both gushing about how Marcus looked on the newsreel and Jasmine in particular was mentioning that he was looking better with age and that if you didn’t try to snag him at the reunion that she would seize her opportunity.

“Seriously? He just uses those arms like that?”

“I swear if he comes to the reunion in that vest…”

“Can you imagine what he looks like now that he’s so stacked?”

Your fingers flew across the screen telling them both to calm down and that Marcus, the last thing you knew, was married. Alana was quick to jump in and inform you that Marcus’s wife had passed away just a few years ago. Your heart immediately sank upon reading that message. Despite the years and the way life had separated you, your heart still cared for Marcus.

You had lost your husband to infidelity but losing a significant other in the way Marcus did? Your heart panged as you texted the girls that there was absolutely no way you'd be able to "jump on that" as Jasmine had to eloquently put it. It wouldn't be right. You were just excited to see him and everyone else and catch up on life.

You finally won the fight against the zipper of your suitcase and pulled it onto the floor. You ran through your checklist one last time before deciding you were ready. You placed your carry-on on top of the suitcase and with your phone and keys in hand, you left the house and made your way to the airport.

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

“Daaaad, seriously,” Missy groaned with a grin attached to her face. The young girl got up from the edge of her father’s bed and stood in front of him by the mirror. Her small hands came up to cover her father’s larger ones as she stopped him from fidgeting with the tie.

“You look fine,” she reassured him, again. She tugged on the tie to straighten as Marcus looked down at her and sighed. For a teenage girl, Missy seemed to have her life more together than Marcus at times.

“If you say so. Doesn’t make me feel fine,” Marcus admitted to his daughter. Ever since his wife had died, Missy had become his focus and when he had to rejoin the Heroics, he did it to protect her. Everything was for her. So having a night out for just him was odd.

“What are you nervous about? That everyone is going to know that we saved the world again?” Missy laughed and Marcus cracked a grin, shaking his head softly.

“That I’ll bump into people I haven’t seen in years and they’ll think differently of me,” Marcus admitted with a sigh. Missy’s brows furrowed up at her father before her face softened. She knew what it was like to have people look at you like an outcast but there was no way her father would be looked at that way. He was a literal hero and she told him such which made him smile down and press a kiss to the top of her head.

“Love you kiddo,” Marcus sighed before finally leaving the house to make his way to the gymnasium of a building he hadn’t stepped foot in in almost two decades. The walls seemed shorter now and the hallways narrower but his feet carried him through as if he were back to being a teenager.

His eyes scanned as he saw the locker that he had called home for all four years. And a few steps later, he saw your corner locker and his heart stopped for a second. He wondered if you were going to make it to the reunion. He hadn’t thought too deeply about you in a few years because he was still grieving his wife but now that he was here, you were consuming his thoughts.

As he walked into the decorated and rainbow-lit gymnasium, all conversations started to fade away as everyone looked to him with bright smiles. Jasmine looked over your shoulder towards the entrance and her eyes widened. She tapped your arm and nudged her chin in his direction, making you turn.

Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest seeing him. A black suit with a black tie and his black frames all pulled the look together nicely. You guessed Missy probably had a hand in helping him pick out his outfits. The girl was notorious for helping her father with simple things and it didn’t surprise you.

You watched as Steven, better known as Miracle Guy, came over to clap Marcus on the shoulder while shaking his hand with the other. Last you knew Steven didn’t like Marcus but perhaps he was putting on a show since there were phones and cameras everywhere. You scoffed quietly to yourself as a reminder that some people really don’t change.

Some minutes later, Alana nudged her elbow into your side. “Marcus is alone at the drink table. Go say hi,” she punctuated the last word with another nudge and you made a pout at her. “But I have a full-” you started but Alana quickly swiped your cup and downed the rest of your punch. You narrowed your eyes at her and she just gave a giddy, toothy smile, holding your now empty cup out to you before mouthing the word Go.

You rolled your eyes and sighed heavily as you took the cup from her and turned around but not before sticking your tongue out at her. You walked a bit slowly, nervous to even strike up a conversation with your ex-high school boyfriend turned superhero of the world.

You stepped up the punchbowl just as Marcus was about to reach for it and bumped his arm. “Oh! Sorry!” you exclaimed with a light chuckle and he turned to see who had bumped him and felt a huge lump form in his throat.

Your name came from him like a soft whisper and you felt your face soften looking at him. “Hi Marcus,” you said softly, almost in a soft whisper that echoed the way he had said your name. “Or should I say Mr. Superhero of the World?” you gave a soft chuckle and he echoed it with a soft guffaw of his own. The two of you stood there for a minute, just studying each other’s faces with goofy grins attached to your lips.

Suddenly the music dimmed and a tap of a live microphone came over the speakers. “Attention everyone! Okay, okay! Come closer okay?” the class president, Rachelle Hawkins, spoke into the microphone. You and Marcus turned your attention to the stage at the same time. Most of the crowd started moving closer to the stage but you stayed back with Marcus by the food table.

“First of all I just want to say thank you to everyone who could make it tonight,” she said in her overly fake happy tone that she used to use as a cheerleader. You rolled your eyes slightly and Marcus looked over and chuckled at your response. He remembered how much you and Rachelle didn’t get along. You weren’t exactly enemies but her power during school years seemed to have just been racking up the count on how many boys would lose their virginity to her.

Marcus leaned over to speak into your ear with both of your heads still facing the stage. “Good to see she hasn’t changed huh?” he whispered which made you snicker. You both were already falling back into comfort after so many years apart. It only made sense since you had dated for all four years of high school and were friends first.

“Let’s start the night off with a dance from our senior year prom king and queen!” Rachelle exclaimed and held her hand out to point in your and Marcus’s direction. Everyone turned to face you both as Rachelle called out both your names and a bright light then shown on you. You tried to shield your eyes from the blinding spotlight as you looked to Marcus.

In the distance you heard Jasmine and Alana whooping and hollering in celebration which prompted everyone else to start clapping and cheering the two of you on. Marcus looked at you and placed his plate down on the long table. You followed suit to place your still empty cup down next to his plate. You swallowed a large lump that had formed in your throat before Marcus was holding out his arm for you to loop yours through.

You did so and he led you out to the middle of the floor. The light finally faded and you could clearly see Marcus’ face. His eyes were scanning the crowd before jumping back to you. You took a deep breath and reached up to put your left hand onto his shoulder. He placed his right arm on your hip and reached with his left hand to grab your right and hold it. He intertwined your fingers and you felt your heart nearly leap from your chest.

He pulled you closer slowly so your bodies were right next to each other as the song started playing. “All My Life” by KC and Jojo came over the speakers and you couldn’t help but burst out laughing as Marcus swayed you to the beat. He was smiling too knowing why this song was picked. It was the same song that was played during your dance after being chosen as king and queen.

Your laughter caused you to lean into Marcus’s chest for a minute to catch your breath and his heart started to race a mile a minute. Your heart was starting to match his rhythm and when you stood up straight up again, you found yourself just looking into his eyes. The feel of his body pressed against you, the heat of his arm that was now wrapped around your lower back all accumulated to you immediately feeling smitten by him once more.

Your eyes flickered around his face slowly, landing on his lips before looking back into his eyes. But before you knew it, Rachelle’s voice was coming back through the speakers, loud and clear over the music. “Aw look at them folks! It’s like nothing has changed! How sweet!” she cooed and the entire crowd followed suit. You rolled your eyes and Marcus gave a tight lipped grin in response.

He finally pulled back from you when Rachelle started to list off the night’s events and the song faded into the night. Your heart was beating so hard you were starting to breathe heavier. Marcus walked back over to the food table to gather up his plate and you followed him just a step behind. You picked up your cup and without a word to Marcus, started to refill it with punch.

“I’ll um, I’ll see you later?” Marcus asked rather than said and you looked up at him with a wry smile and slow nod.

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[imaginarydesires]

Pedro Pascal

Character Preferences

How They Act When They’re Jealous ♡

Warnings: 18+, it’s our boys so there’s definitely some mentions of violence in here and lots of sexual innuendos because that’s just who I am - whoops

Notes: I tried to keep everything gender-neutral, but I don’t have a lot of experience with gender-neutral writing so if something isn’t right, please let me know! I greatly appreciate constructive feedback of all kinds!

❥ Dave York

Dave doesn’t get jealous, at least that’s what he’ll tell you. He’ll watch another man lean into you, telling you all of his best jokes to try to get into your pants. He’ll watch because while the man is imagining sleeping with you, Dave is thinking of how he’s going to kill him and where he’ll dispose of the body. Dave will kill him, clean the blood off of his hands, and then go home to fuck you to show you who you belong to.

❥ Din Djarin

He’s a quiet jealous - meaning, yes, his blood will slowly boil as he glares through the blackened visor of his helmet at the man carelessly flirting with you, but he won’t show it openly. He’ll overthink and wonder if you’d be better off with them instead of a dangerous bounty hunter whose face you can’t see. You’ll notice he’s acting strange and ask him about it. He’ll deny it at first, maybe say he’s just tired, but you’ll know and have to reassure him you’re his and show him how much he means to you.

❥ Ezra Prospect

Being a master of words, he surely uses speech to fulfill his tinge of jealously. As another man openly flirts with you, he interjects, doing everything he can to get him to stammer over his lines until he’s a nervous mess. You notice, of course, shaking your head at your jealous partner. He’ll then turn his words to you, speaking poetically of how you’re his and how much he cares about you. His declarations always make your heart flutter, and this time is no different.

❥ Frankie “Catfish” Morales

Frankie is a man with pure intentions of protecting you and keeping you satisfied. As your partner, he wants nothing more than to be a positive influence on your happiness and well-being. This, apparently, flies out of the window when he’s jealous. He turns into a hormonal teenage boy when he sees another man try to take what he works so hard for. As the other man flirts with you, he approaches, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you so deeply he doesn’t care if the whole room becomes uncomfortable. If the other man tries to speak, he’ll hold his finger up in the air as he continues to devour your mouth. Then, finally pulling away, he’ll look the man up and down before turning to you, “I think it’s time to go, don’t you, baby? I’ve got big plans for you tonight.”

❥ Jack "Whiskey" Daniels

The only thing he can think of as he watches you chat with another man is how to get your attention back on him. He'll pick a fight if he can, knowing you can't help but watch him as he uses his lasso to corral his opponents. If a fight is intangible, he'll simply make a bet with someone in order to put his lasso skills to work. As he does, his eyes will pierce yours from across the room and won't let go. He'll finish his fight or his bet and walk over to you, ignoring your company. He'll use a sharp line, sometimes even acting like you didn't know each other as deeply as you did. "Hello, gorgeous. How would you like to ride home on a real cowboy?"

❥ Javier Peña

Javier, jealous? No fucking way - at least that’s what he tells himself as he balls his hands into fists and watches you intensely, observing your and the other man’s demeanor as you talk. The other man clearly wanted to fuck you, he could see it from across the room, and anger built in his chest as he wondered why you weren’t seeing it to. Clearly, you were spoken for. Javier fucked you nearly every night. Sure, he wasn’t one for conventional relationships, and you hadn’t had the exclusive conversation yet, but you knew, right? His brain mulled the last time you fucked, the way you moaned his name as you came. He imagined you moaning a different man’s name and lost it. He approached you, completely ignoring your little friend. “We have to go.” The other man tried to intervene, but Javier talked over him. “Now.”

❥ Marcus Moreno

Marcus got jealous, and he could admit it. Hell, he couldn’t deny it. The way his eyes couldn’t leave you as you spoke to another man. He was mid-conversation himself with another person, but couldn’t even focus on their words as he watched you. He excused himself and approached you, his hand gently brushing against the small of your back. “Hi, honey. Who’s this?” He was polite, even shook hands with the man. He felt better just being next to you, and the way you leaned into his frame made him feel even more secure. He didn’t have to be rude, or even interject himself into your established conversation, he just needed to be there, touching you softly and letting everyone know you were together.

❥ Max Phillips

He does not get jealous. He’d have to care about you to get jealous and that was not happening. But he watched you speak with another man, watched you smile at someone else with the same smile you gave him, and his anger grew. Max looked around the room, noticing the lack of attention directed to your area. Then, he approached, not saying a word to you, just staring at your new friend until they were visibly uncomfortable. “Max?” You questioned. He revealed his fangs with a signature smile and tore into the man’s neck, ripping him apart. You stood, shocked as the body hit the floor. Before you could say anything, Max grabbed your hand and pulled you away. “My office. I had a bite, but now I have a taste for something else.”

❥ Maxwell Lord

Maxwell doesn’t realize it’s jealousy fueling his anger until he’s already fuming. He approaches you and the man you appear so enamored with, his signature smile plastered on his face as an obvious cover. “Hello, my sweet girl.” You immediately notice the uncharacteristic public term of endearment and give him a strange look. You introduce the two men. Maxwell takes his hand, and pulls him in close, his fake smile still covering his anger, but not well. “You’re not flirting with my girl, are you? I’d have to make your life a living hell.” Maxwell laughed, but the other man did not. He excused himself almost immediately. “Really, Maxwell? That was unnecessary.” Maxwell wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and squeezed. “I’ll deal with you later tonight, my sweet girl.”

❥ Oberyn Martell

He genuinely never expected to find himself jealous over another. He himself enjoyed the company of others, and knew you did as well, but this was different. The other man didn’t just look at you with eyes of passion - he grabbed your hand tenderly and kissed your knuckles. Oberyn approached, his arm wrapping around your waist. You looked awkwardly between the two men, but focused on Oberyn. “Lover,” he cooed. “Yes, my prince?” You replied. “Join me on a walk, will you? Certainly your friend wouldn’t mind?” He had never asked you to go on a walk before, but he realized he would ask you every day if it meant you spent your time with him instead.

❥ Pero Tovar

Pero never did hide his anger well. He was a rough man with stained hands and a sharp tongue, and he knew life was too short to let things go, especially things as good as you. He sat across the hall, sloppily piling food from his bowl into his mouth, his eyes piercing your back as he watched another soldier flirt with you. The man placed his hand on your waist, and Tovar felt his anger boil over. He slammed his bowl onto the table, ignoring the mess he made as he did. He approached you, eyes dark and full of intention. “Hermosa.” “Yes, Pero?” You looked up at him innocently and his anger seemed to dissipate. He lost the words, unable to focus on anything but your soft lips and sweet gaze. He bent down, picking you up and swinging you over his shoulder with ease. “Pero!” You called out. “Where are you taking me?” “Somewhere for only you and me, mi amor.”

[totallycorrecttwilight]

Hi! What do you think the dynamic is between the twins and the rest of the Volturi? Thank you😊

Hi! Thank you for your question ❤️

Sometimes I think the twins are certainly too mature for their (physical) age and stick to each other for the most part, however a much more satisfying take would be twins being Gen z-esque and quietly (or not so much) judging the other coven members, especially the clearly older ones, f. e. : Marcus, caius and such. Pretty sure the ok boomer was their favorite thing to say to either of the aforementioned, even Aro at times (can you imagine his reaction tho?).

Athenodora and Caius are the only ones out of the freaky five that are responsible enough to even raise a child. Sulpicia isn't that too interested in children that never grow up. She can't drink with them. She can't go on killing sprees with them without grievous consequences. All she enjoys is teaching Jane about poison. She feels like she needs to give her knowledge about them to someone else, pass it along so to speak. She appreciates Alec's grumpiness and judgmement, and often finds it fairly amusing.

Marcus... Marcus is too sad and tired to deal with two children. Aro, sometimes I think, kinda tossed them aside since they're not new anymore, and gives affection once in a while when he feels like it.

I always saw that when it comes to the guards, there are only a select few the twins are friendly ish with. Felix, for sure, because he's essentially a big golden retriever, even if a lil aggressive, and I doubt that Aro would let them get an actual dog. Then there's Heidi, who's basically the walking concept of the cool aunt who just brings weird ass expensive gifts, shows up all fancy once in a while and disappears again. She'd probably be also the one who takes them where they need a responsible adult (felix doesn't count) and no one else would want to go.

I can't see Corin being besties with them, I think she's too soft and they're too mean, and she generally avoids them. Renata could be the same.

Honestly, them being the mean girls within volturi is as terrifying as it sounds, because teenagers are mean and terrifying. Ok, knowing these two, it's even worse.

[isaidwhatisaid11]

All American: Homecoming Character Rank List *mild spoilers*

I have a love-hate relationship with the All American franchise, however I thought it would be fun to rank my favorite characters from All American: Homecoming. Eventually I'll do All American but I just watched Homecoming so it's fresh in my mind. If you have any characters or questions you want my opinion on. Feel free to send an 'Ask'! Let's begin:

*Characters that did not make it on this list aren't ones I necessarily hate, they just...didn't make it on the list, lol.

5. Cam Watson

Honestly I didn't think Cam would have a strong storyline. In fact his introduction into the spinoff was a but...random to me. I liked his development in All American—from bully to sarcastic/funny rival friend (?) and I honestly didn't think he would be in the show as much as I hoped. But I was wrong. I like how they expanded on his character and I found him to be quite funny, if not charming throughout the season. I adore his relationship with Keisha and I can honestly say I appreciate him more as a singer than a football player because we get to see a more vulnerable side of him outside of his love for football.

4. Amara Patterson

I think Amara is such an underrated character and I find her to be the face of Homecoming more than Simone (but that's an entirely different conversation). I think her tenacity and drive to tell the truth is her strongest trait, which emphasizes her unwillingness to quit. I can't imagine watching the series without her in it, especially now that she may *spoiler alert* become the head of Bringston. Also her and Marcus are cute and I wish they would've built their relationship a bit better from the beginning (but that's just me).

3. Damon Sims

Damon is hands down my favorite male character in Homecoming. In a way, he reminds me a lot Spencer in the sense that both are characters are striving towards an athletic career but are constantly being faced with adversity and temptations. From his background to his present status at Bringston, he's charming and presents himself as a humble yet confident baseball player. I would've loved a better build up to his family history as well as the dynamic between his mother and father—which I believe was heavily overshadowed by the "adoption" storyline that sent me dizzying circles...but I digress. I think Damon's character does well to stand alone and with someone. I won't lie and say I much prefer him with Thea over Simone, but both ships are cute and I wouldn't be mad if he ended up with either one of them next season.

2. Simone Hicks

Yes. I know you are wondering why I put the main character of a spinoff series as my second favorite character out of the entire show. There is not one thing I dislike about Simone's character. She's resilient, relatable, and like Spencer, fights for those she loves. I couldn't be happier that they took time to give Simone her own show as well as to expand on her voice in the All American franchise. Not to mention, it's nice seeing a dark-skinned woman be the lead in a young adult tv show. However, how the show handles Simone's characterization—her choices—is why I put her second. I'll most likely elaborate on a second post about this later, but the show failed Simone and I hope they make up for it in season 2. Also, Simone and Jordan will always be my favorite Simone ship.

1. Thea Mays

Hands down Thea Mays is my favorite character on Homecoming. Initially, she was introduced as the stereotypical mean girl, who, I thought, would have no character development or growth, whatsoever. But, yet again, I was proven wrong. What makes Thea so compelling is the trauma of being a tennis star at such a young age while being deprived of the normal experiences teenagers/young adults go through such as dating, birthday parties, and making friends. Yes, I do believe there is a bit of a hero-complex between her and Damon and I thought their relationship happened a little quickly for my taste but seeing Thea happy, vulnerable, and shy around Damon is such a treat! I felt like she had the most to lose throughout the season and that her development was the most noticeable to me. As far as her growth towards the end of the season, I will never forgive the writers for walking back all of her progress and placing the blame on Simone for more "drama". But, I hope that the writers keep her relationship with Damon because I think he's the only factor (at this point) keeping her grounded to her vulnerability.

***Honorable mentions: Nathaniel Hardin, Keisha McCalla, and Marcus Turner

[darknessisafriend]

The melancholia of Commodus and your comfort.

I wanted to make this an imagine but there was so much that could be written that it would get multichapter and for now I have a lot of requests I’d like to write first. So I made it into HCs instead, but I might write an imagine on the same theme later. Anyway, I hope you’ll enjoy! It’s been a while since I wrote about our dear Emperor and I missed it <3  Enjoy 😊

-        You were Commodus childhood friend, you had grown together in the corridors of the palace, despite different ranks, you were a freedwoman after all. But the little heir had never cared, for he only wanted a playmate to flee away from his instructors and he had no sister of his age, only brothers and to be with a girl was nice sometimes.

-        You and Commodus were very close, you watched him grow in a fine young man but terribly tormented, his father was an inattentive father, too focused on the matters of the Empire and the wars to bother with the fluctuating emotions of his little boy.

-        You supported Commodus on those moments, particularly when he failed a teaching from his father and felt once again unworthy of any attention, unloved. Or when he ran away from his professors to play sword with slaves or spread mischief. You saw him feel better when he did that, so you kept him company and kept an eye around to warn him if an adult was approaching. Some day you would even manage to sneak out of the palace for a ride. Making Commodus smile had become your daily goal as a child.

-        Even if your support meant a lot for him, he always wanted his father, his father’s love, approval. At least, your presence would help him to keep his head out of the water.

-        As child, he soon, learned to hide himself when he was tormented, instead of seeking comfort, of confiding in somebody. He would stay as much as possible in his bedroom, curtains closed, a small oil lamp for only light. Curved into a ball in his bed and enable to sleep because of nightmares or you would find him praying by his little Lararium, his shrine where he had a little statue of his hero Hercules but also his deceased uncle, mother and twin.

-        As he grew up and became a teenager, and then a young man, he felt slightly more confident because his father took him to the battle field and made him take part in his work, he was proud and eager to make his father proud when it will be his turn to reign over the world.  

-        But then, Marcus Aurelius broke all his hopes, taking from him what he had been raised to do, instead handing the empire to a soldier who only knew how to kill, nothing about laws or economics like him. His terrible insecurities surged back and led to an even worse event, Commodus, the son, had been wounded deeply and forever.

-        In public, he would always wear his mask of Emperor, unshakeable, and focused on his duty. But he couldn’t fool you, at least his eyes that in those moments could bear so much sadness and melancholia.

-        You would never leave his side, and he knew it. Sometimes he would burst into your room, escorted by two pretorians who closed the doors behind him, his mask would fall apart in a matter of seconds. You would feel his anxiety, as he shifted his weight on his other leg, his fists clenched,  he would tell you what good things he had done today, then looking at you expectantly, pain in his eyes as if you always disapproved of his choices and actions, desperately waiting for your approval and reward.

-        You would instantly get up, approaching him, brushing you hand against his “Commodus. You have nothing to prove to me, you are a great Emperor. The people love you, you have stopped the wars, you give them games, bread and so much more! You are worthy of the gods and of your father!” he wasn’t Marcus Aurelius but that didn’t mean he was a terrible Emperor. Only the conspirators, jealous, and senators holding to their privileges spread disorder and false rumors to damage his reign.

-        He wouldn’t answer and would throw his arms around you, holding you tightly against him as he cried in your neck, unrestrained sobs muffled against your skin and his tears wetting your tunic. Only with you, he could let go and be vulnerable without fear. He felt understood and cared for. He would stay in your arms until the tears stopped and only then, he would start talking, about his fears and terrors and you would listen to him and do your best to sooth him.

-        You would indeed encourage him to share what he has inside, because he would keep a lot , too much inside, which would increase his anxiety and make him paranoid to the point he would retreat for weeks and even months in a villa in the countryside, leaving power to others and keeping himself locked up in his safe and idyllic bubble.

-        Still, you would have to wait for him to come to you, when he felt ready. Because when you would come to him, he would usually send you away, coldly. Even if you knew it wasn’t against you, his mind was just in a dark place sometimes and he could get far of your reach.

-        With time, he would trust you more and more, and let his guard down more easily with you. You would be essential to his life like air to breathe and he always would take you anywhere he went, his hand reaching for yours, even in public. If he could take you to his sessions with the Senate, he would.

-        He would be very clingy with you, even requesting that you sat on his lap as he worked at his desk. And you would accept with great pleasure, it was better than to be by yourself or with other nobles anyway.

-        And again, with time, he would let tears free as he joined you in bed, you would entangle your legs with his, bringing the sheet up to his chin, and stroke his face, your thumb stroking his trembling lips while you kissed away his tears. Slowly, he would calm down, distancing himself from what upset him. And instead he would focus on your touch, your calm breathing and soothing words. Soon, he would feel sleepy, exhaustion getting the best of him, he would keep his arms tightly wrapped around you the whole night. As long as he had you, he would keep fighting and offer you the world.  

Commodus Harem: @skaravile​​ @lyoongx​ @weirdflecksbutok​ @charlie-sisters @stardancerluv​ @sgtsavoytruffle​ @ohcarlesmycarles​ @rajacero @niniitah-ah @morrisonmercuryphoenix @fly-like-a-phoenix​ @the-joaq-is-extra​ @hopelessdisasterr @stellargirlie​ @rosebloodstuffandthangss​ @clowndaddyfleck​ @jaylovesbats @dreamingmaria​ @sagyunaro​ @just-a-fucking-comedy​ @spaceinvader​ @radio-hoo-ha​ @lady-carnivals-stuff​ @sierraclegane​​ @legojorny​ @lemondedeniname​​ @hvproductions​​ @syvellsworld​​ @papercut-paranoia​​ @jokerflecker​​ @beautifulyoungprospect​​ @bring-your-holy-water @winterjasmine007​

[letterboxd]

Savage Cinema.

From anarchists and adultery to milk baths and massacres, Matthew Turner shares five of the weirdest and wildest highlights of Hollywood’s pre-Code era, as #PreCodeApril comes to a close.

Pre-Code April was directly inspired by Noirvember, a month-long celebration of noir cinema instigated by Marya Gates (Oldfilmsflicker). I did Noirvember for the first time in November 2019, really enjoyed it, and thought it would be great to do the same thing for pre-Code movies. Although I’ve watched most of the classic 1930s films, I realised there were a huge number of pre-Code films I’d never seen (of my Letterboxd list of over 900 Pre-Code films, I have only seen 200).

As a sucker for a bit of wordplay, no matter how tenuous, I picked April partly because it’s six months away from Noirvember and partly because of the shared “pr” sound in April and Pre-Code. I’ve been absolutely delighted by the response—the #PreCodeApril hashtag on Twitter is a daily treasure trove of pre-Code-related joy, but I was genuinely thrilled to see the response on Letterboxd (here is my watchlist for the month). It’s been a real pleasure to see pre-Code movies constantly popping up in my ‘new from friends’ feed. My hope is that it’ll be even bigger next year—and that maybe TCM will want to get involved, the way they do with Noirvember.

Produced between 1929 and 1934, pre-Code cinema refers to films made in a brief period between the silent era, and Hollywood beginning to enforce the Motion Picture Production Code censorship guidelines (mandatory enforcement came in from July 1934). The “Code” in question was popularly known as the Hays Code, after then MPPDA president Will H. Hays. As the depression set in and box office declined, theater owners needed fare that would drive cinema-goers to the movies. It was a wild time to be a scriptwriter; they threw everything at the page, designers added even more, and actors played out the kinds of scenes, from the suggestive to the overt, that would otherwise be banned for decades to come.

The following five films demonstrate some of Hollywood’s craziest pre-Code excesses. They’re still jaw-dropping, even by today’s standards, and notably give female characters an agency that would be later denied as the Christian morals of the Code overruled writers’ kinks.

Madam Satan (1930) Directed by Cecil B. DeMille, written by Elsie Janis, Jeanie Macpherson and Gladys Unger

A critical and commercial flop in 1930, Cecil B. DeMille’s utterly insane musical comedy stars Kay Johnson as a straight-laced wife who plots to win back her unfaithful husband (Reginald Denny) by seducing him at a costume party, disguised as a mysterious devil woman. The location of this party? Oh, nothing too fancy, just on board a giant zeppelin. (“Madam Satan or: How the Film gets Fucking Crazy on the Blimp,” as Ryan reviewed it.)

Madam Satan is not by any stretch of the imagination a good movie (the editing alone is laughably bad), but as a piece of pre-Code craziness, it really has to be seen to be believed. Co-written by a trio of women and set in just three locations, it goes from racy bedroom farce to avant-garde musical to full-on disaster movie after a bolt of lightning hits the blimp.

The film is justly celebrated (in camp classic circles, at least) for the wildly over-the-top costumes paraded in the masquerade ball sequence, but there’s weird outfit joy everywhere you look. Keep an eye out for an enterprising extra who’s come dressed as a set of triplets.

Call Her Savage (1932) Directed by John Francis Dillon, written by Tiffany Thayer and Edwin J. Burke

Adapted from a salacious novel by Tiffany Thayer, Call Her Savage was former silent star Clara Bow’s second-to-last film before her retirement at the age of 28. She plays Texas gal Nasa Springer, who’s always had a “savage” temper she can’t explain. In the space of 88 minutes she goes from wild teenager to jilted newlywed to young mother to prostitute to wealthy society girl to alcoholic before finally (it’s implied) settling down with her Native-American friend after discovering that she’s half-Native-American, something the audience has known all along.

Bow’s performance is frankly astonishing, to the point where you simply can’t believe what you’re seeing from one moment to the next. Sample scenes see her savagely whipping both a snake and her Indian friend, smashing a guitar over a musician’s head and violently wrestling her Great Dane… and that’s all in the first five minutes. She’s also frequently in a state of near undress throughout—one funny scene has her maids chasing her with a dressing gown because they’re afraid she’ll run down the street in her négligée.

The rest of the film includes alcohol, adultery, strong violence, attempted rape, murder, syphilis (not named, but heavily implied) and baby death. It’s a veritable smorgasbord of outrageous content and Bow is pure dynamite throughout. The film is also noted for being one of the first on-screen portrayals of homosexuality, when Nasa visits a gay bar in the Village frequented by “wild poets and anarchists”.

Smarty (1934) Directed by Robert Florey, written by Carl Erickson and F. Hugh Herbert

This deeply problematic sex comedy features pre-Code stars Joan Blondell and Warren William (often nicknamed ‘The King of Pre-Code’) at their absolute filthiest. Blondell plays Vicki, a capricious, happily married wife who gets an obvious kick out of taunting her husband, Tony (William). When he cracks and slaps her at a party, she divorces him and marries her lawyer, Vernon (Edward Everett Horton), whom she also goads into slapping her in a deliberate ploy to win back Tony.

Essentially, Smarty hinges on Vicki liking rough sex and it’s completely blatant about it, ending with her sighing “Hit me again” (the film’s UK title!) as they sink into a clinch on a couch, a rapturous expression on her face. It’s a controversial film because on the surface it looks like it’s condoning domestic violence, but it’s very clearly about Vicki’s openly expressed sexual desires—she wants to be punished and dominated, she just has a rather dodgy way of getting what she wants.

It might be unsophisticated, but in some ways Smarty is remarkably ahead of its time and ripe for rediscovery. To that end, it would make a fascinating double bill with Stephen Shainberg’s Secretary (2002). Oh, and it’s also chock-full of lingerie scenes (like most pre-Code films), if you like that sort of thing.

Massacre (1934) Directed by Alan Crosland, written by Sheridan Gibney, Ralph Block and Robert Gessner

Several pre-Code films (notably those made by Warner Bros) took a no-punches-pulled approach to their depiction of social issues, and star Richard Barthelmess actively sought out such projects. Here he plays Joe Thunderhorse, a Native American who’s become famous on the rodeo circuit. When he returns to his tribe to bury his father, he ends up fighting for their rights, taking on corrupt government officials and religious authorities.

Massacre is fascinating because on the one hand it’s wildly insensitive—Barthelmess and co-star Ann Dvorak are both cast as Native Americans—but on the other, it burns with a righteous fury and does more than any other Hollywood film (before or since) to champion the rights and highlight the injustices dealt out to Native Americans. That fury is encapsulated in a horrifying and rightly upsetting rape scene (it happens off-screen, but the cuts leave you in no doubt) that the film handles with surprising sensitivity.

In addition to being a passionate fight against racism and social injustice, the film also has some genuinely shocking sexual content. Most notably, Joe is seen making love to a rich white woman (Claire Dodd, who’s also in Smarty) who has an obvious sexual fetish, flaunting him in front of her friends and making a shrine in her room with Native-American paraphernalia.

The Sign of the Cross (1932) Directed by Cecil B. DeMille, written by Waldemar Young and Sidney Buchman

Yes, this is Cecil B. DeMille again, but no list of weird and wild pre-Code films would be complete without the jaw-dropping ancient Rome epic, The Sign of the Cross. Adapted from an 1895 play by Wilson Barrett, it stars Frederic March as Marcus Superbus (stop sniggering at the back there), who’s torn between his loyalty to Emperor Nero (Charles Laughton) and his love for a Christian woman (Elissa Landi), while also fending off the advances of the Emperor’s wife, Poppaea (Claudette Colbert).

The film is racy enough in its sexual content alone: highlights include the famous scene of Claudette Colbert taking a nude milk bath and an erotic “lesbian” dance sequence, where Joyzelle Joyner’s “most wicked and talented woman in Rome” does ‘The Dance of the Naked Moon’ at Frederic March’s orgy, trying to tempt Landi’s virtuous Christian, to the obvious arousal of the gathered guests.

However, it’s the climactic gladiatorial-arena sequence that will leave your jaw on the floor. Lasting around twelve minutes, it includes: someone getting eaten by a tiger, a tied-up, naked women being approached by hungry crocodiles, pygmies getting chopped up by female barbarians, elephants stomping on heads, a gorilla approaching a naked woman tied to a stake, a man getting gored by a bull, and gladiators fighting to the death, complete with blood and gory injury detail.

The whole thing is genuinely horrifying, even for 2021. Best of all, DeMille pointedly critiques the audience (ourselves included), by showing a series of reaction shots ranging from intense enjoyment to abject seen-it-all-before boredom.

Matthew Turner (FilmFan1971) is a critic, author, podcaster and lifelong film fanatic. His favorite film is ‘Vertigo’. The films in this article are also listed here: Five of the Pre-Code Era’s Most Outrageous Films.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

MIEMBRO DE HONOR

Mayans MC + Reader

Anon asked: can you do a platonic mayans mc imagine where the reader (gender neutral or a girl) is a street kid (preferably a teenager) who steals wallets and stuff and they break into the clubhouse to steal money/food and one time they get caught. at first the reader is timid and doesn't really trust anyone but after some time they became part of the family? thank you! 💙 (! if you don't do platonic imagines then you can make this into angel x reader (with the reader over 18 of course!)

Word Count: 1.2k

Author comments: This work wasn't re-edited, so I'm sorry if you find grammar mistakes! I hope you all enjoy. Gif isn't mine, credits to the author.

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You had been watching the scrap yard for five days. You were sure that there would be food, because of the time the riders used to spend inside, being super easily entering by night. The walls weren't too high and there was a tree close to the limit, so you just needed to climb it and jump. You were doing it since you were eight, when your family abandoned you and you had to survive in the streets. So, you waited for the last motorbike to leave and the man with strange hands to close the main door.

Past half one in the night, you checked that it wasn't no one close or looking to cross the road. Putting on the hoodie of the black sweater, you climbed the tree to have one look among the trash. There was somekind of house at the end of the yard, knowing that that was your objective. Jumping to the wall, you whistled waiting for some seconds. No dogs. No danger. Supporting your hands on the edge of the wall to leave your body goes down, your legs muffled the jump, shaking after your knees to take off the dust.

You were walking from row to row to avoid being caught, until you reached a green door that separated the house from the scrap yard. Grabbing from your bag some needles, you opened the padlock to open it and come in. Everything was dark inside, having to use a lantern to guide your steps through the yard to the porch. The fact that the door wasn't locked surprised you, open it slightly to stick your head out and check that there wasn't anyone inside of it. Lights off and all clear. You came in, finding the kitchen at your left like a miracle.

There was a lot of food inside, having a sandwich and so many fried potatoes, even if they were cold. At this point, you didn't care about the temperature. You also grabbed a beer from the fridge, one of these mixed with tequila, over the other classics. You were sixteen, but you weren't stupid. The problem was when you had another. And another. And another. Until you had the whole six pack. You were too drunk to leave, deciding to have some rest on the comfortable leather sofa. Just some seconds.

“Wake up, querida”.

Those words sounded like a far echo, opening your eyelids with some blinks until you knew you had been caught by eight men; two of them pointing you with loaded guns. Sitting up on the sofa too scared to talk, you just looked at them, babbling with no sense.

“Were you hungry, ah?” The shortest man with a big black moustache, crossed his arms on his chest waiting for an explanation. You nodded, swallowing.

“Yeah, and thirsty”. A much younger one spoke this time.

“I-I'm so-sorry… I just…”

You decided to use the ‘cry-card’, hoping they would take pity on your life and let you go. But they didn't believe those crocodile tears.

It's five to nine in the morning and you're walking around the main Mayan's table like a locked lion. Nervous like never before. The guys are positioned around Bishop's chair, in front of your laptop, waiting to be nine o'clock. They know how much you're suffering, because you're like an open book.

You have to recognize that, at first, it was hard to trust that they just wanted to take care of you; because they locked you down for a week, until they showed you that you were safe. It was easy with the youngest. Angel and Coco were always making jokes and fun to see you smile, while Creeper and Gilly were too busy teasing you, according to them, to make you stronger mentally. The oldest used to treat you like a kid, until they saw that you never had the opportunity to be one.

Since that night when you came to steal some food, they practically adopted you after knowing your story. You hadn't a house, a job, a family… Anything. They were like angels fallen from heaven. Your salvation. They taught you to fight, to shoot, to be silent, to be loud, to fix a bike and a car. They taught you about self-love, about the meaning of having a family and friends. They welcomed you, just asking you for loyalty. Simple and clearly. And you did. Of course you did. You don't know what could be of your life, if they didn't ‘find’ you.

“Querida, come here”. Bishop says offering you a hand, while Taza makes himself aside to let you catch it.

Sitting you on his lap, he urges you to look at him. That man. That man who turned into your father, in all the aspects you could imagine. He gave you, literally, all. Even the time he hadn't. Leaving a kiss on your temple, he surrounds you closer with his arms.

“You will pass it. You will be the best doctor ever, okay? Trust yourself as we trust you”.

They made you continue your studies. They all paid your years at college, a house in San Diego and all your bills, as if you were one of them. And even if you swore to give them the money back, you know they will never accept it. They love you. And you love them.

“Vamos, mija, es la hora”. (C'mon, ‘daughter’, it's time). Marcus says, feeling more nervous than before that you can't even type your name.

Angel does for you, entering into the college database. Having a deep breath and receiving a kiss on your head from Tranq, you look for the final grades. There are a lot of students on the list, licking your lips while you type your surname on the searcher. Clicking enter, the database shows you the results of your exams, and the final grade. You find yourself crying like a child, while the guys cheer you.

You did it.

You did it after long nights studying, falling asleep on top of some bike, on the billar, on the Templo's table, on your bed… everywhere. After days being obligated by Creeper and Gilly to eat, just because you didn't want to lose a single second of study. After tedious mornings teasing EZ to help you with maths. After all this time, you did it.

“You took me off so many bullets, to fail, mami”. Coco laughs, don't trying to remember that crazy ride.

“Congrats', princesa”. Riz says hugging you, as soon as you get up from Bishop's lap.

“Call the charters, prospect, we're having a party tonight”. Angel sings somewhat loud.

“That's my decision, not yours”. El Presidente turna at him, pointing his chest with a finger. “Call the charters, prospect, we're having the best party ever tonight in honour of our beautiful doctor”.

[alyssawritesssfics]

Hounded [1] 1. Pilot

Pairings: Bellamy x OC // Kane x daughter!OC

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: violence, series spoilers

Summary: After being locked away for eight months, Athena Kane alongside 99 other criminals is sent to the ground to find out if it's survivable. The ground was the dream, but who knew it would turn out to be a nightmare?

Author’s Note: Hii, this is the repost of my series Hounded! I’ve decided to have each chapter represent an episode. I just personally like the look of it way more and find it easier for me to follow along with while writing (and hopefully you find it easier to follow along while reading it). Please remember to note and reblog! It really helps me see interest and therefore update the story more often. Thank you! PS. If you’d like to be tagged in future chapters, please send me an ask with your @ and I will add you to my list!

previous chapter // series masterlist

The cement floor of my cell was cold against my legs, the sensation searing through the fabric of my jeans. I had sat here many times over the last few months, visualizing myself being blasted into space. It was a morbid thought, but one I could never seem to shake.

My cellmate Octavia let out a heavy sigh, pulling me from my thoughts. I examined her, lying across her cot on her stomach, her feet swaying back and forth in the air as she reread one of the few books she had for the hundredth time.

As I watched Octavia, an alarm began to sound within Skybox, causing Octavia to close her book and sit on the edge of her cot.

“What’s going on out there?”

I stood from my place on the ground, making my way over to our cell door. Peeking through the bars, I noticed guards piling in the main doors, opening cells and dragging people out of them.

“The guards, they’re removing people,” I spoke, my voice shaking.

Octavia stood up. “Moving people? Moving them where?”

I shrugged. “I have no idea.”

We both watched the guards remove more and more people before finally, two reached our cell. Octavia and I stepped back, allowing the guards to enter. The first guard to enter carried a case with him.

“Prisoners 395 and 530, stand facing the wall.” One of the guards said.

Octavia and I complied, as the other guard asked us to extend our dominant hands. Octavia extended her right arm, while I extended my left. The guards reached into the case, pulling out large metal wristbands and placing them around our wrists.

“What’s going on? Neither of us is eighteen yet.”

Eighteen. That was when we’d be up for reevaluation, the council deciding whether or not we’d be floated.

“No questions.” One of the guards responded, pulling me away from the wall. “Let’s go, both of you.”

Octavia and I exited our cell, the place we’d called home for nearly a year now, entering the chaos that was Skybox. There were long lines of teenagers, most younger than myself, on each side, on all levels. We followed the line all the way out of Skybox, into a long corridor.

“I want to speak with my father,” I said, turning to face the guard behind me. “Marcus Kane, he’s on the council.”

The guard stared at me, his face expressionless. “Keep moving.”

“No,” I spoke, a glare appearing across my face. “Where is my father?”

The guard pulled out his shock baton, extending it. “I said, keep moving.”

Not wanting to go through being shocked again, I took a deep breath, turning back around and continuing to follow the line. Eventually, the guards who had taken Octavia and I disappeared, more guards lining the path to wherever we were going.

The further I get down the line, I finally see it. One of the Ark’s guards were scanning identification cards before ushering them onto… a dropship?

A dropship.

“Holy shit,” I mumbled to myself. “They’re sending us to the ground.”

…

“Prisoners of The Ark, hear me now.” I listened on as Chancellor Jaha appeared on several screens within the dropship.

Octavia and I had been separated, sent to different levels of the dropship. Looking around, I didn’t recognize many faces, only a few from Earth Skills.

“You've been given a second chance, and as your Chancellor, it is my hope that you see this as not just a chance for you, but a chance for all of us, indeed for mankind itself.” He continued. “We have no idea what is waiting for you down there. If the odds of survival were better, we would've sent others. Frankly, we're sending you because your crimes have made you expendable.”

The sound of booing filled the dropship.

“The drop site has been chosen carefully. Before the last war, Mount Weather was a military base built within a mountain. It was to be stocked with enough non-perishables to sustain three hundred people for up to two years. If you survive this mission, your crimes will be forgiven, your records wiped clean.”

Chancellor Jaha continued on, though I began to tune it out. All I could think about was my father. Did he know about this? He had to have known, him being one of the Chancellor’s closet allies on the Ark.

As the thought of my father’s involvement drifted from my mind, the dropship jolted, sending my head forward, then back against the seat with brutal force. The dropship continued to shake, as screams filled the air.

“What’s happening?” A girl called out.

I had the same question.

The shaking lasted several minutes before finally, the dropship crashed. Everyone remained silent, unsure if we’d actually landed. After a few moments, people began unbuckling themselves, rushing towards the dropship doors.

I was one of the last to unbuckle myself, wanting to avoid the rush. By the time I had arrived, nearly everyone within the dropship was surrounding the door. As I peeked through the crowd, I spotted Octavia standing by the door, next to a taller boy I’d never seen before.

“Where’s your wristband?” I knew that voice.

Octavia spun around to face someone out of my view. “Do you mind? I haven’t seen my brother in over a year.”

While sharing a cell with Octavia, she’d told me many stories about her brother Bellamy. I almost wouldn’t have believed she even had one, if she didn’t bring him up so often. It was sweet though. I’d always wished I could’ve had a sibling.

That was against the law on the Ark.

“No one has a brother,” someone spoke.

“That’s Octavia Blake, the girl they found hidden under the floor!”

I watched as Octavia lunged forward, Bellamy grabbing her arm. “Octavia, no. Let’s give them something else to remember you by.”

By now, I’d pushed my way further through the crowd.

“Yeah?” Octavia asked, looking back at her brother. “Like what?”

Bellamy smirked. “Like being the first person on the ground in a hundred years.”

With those words, Bellamy reached over and grabbed the dropship door’s handle, pulling it down. There was a faint bang before the door slowly began lowering, creating a platform that led to the ground.

It was beautiful, more so than I ever could’ve imagined. The ground was covered in grass, just like I’d seen in books on the Ark. Trees surrounded us, nearly covering the clear blue sky above us entirely. 

I watched as Octavia slowly made her way down the platform, looking back at her brother. He gave her a reassuring nod, and Octavia in turn took a deep breath before jumping off of the platform, her feet colliding with the ground.

We all watched her as she looked around, silent for a few moments. Finally, Octavia threw her hands in the air. 

“We’re back, bitches!”

Cheers erupted through the dropship, delinquents spilling out around Octavia and running through the forest surrounding us. I slowly made my way down the platform, bracing myself as if I expected to burst into flames the second I touched the ground.

Octavia looked back at me, smiling. “What are you waiting for?”

I jumped from the platform, my boots meeting the hard ground. “Oh my god… We’re really here.”

Octavia squealed, pulling me in for a hug. “No more tiny cells and uncomfortable beds for us.”

“Well, I imagine uncomfortable beds aren’t quite out of the picture yet.” I laughed.

“You’re probably right.” Octavia shrugged with a giggle.

Octavia rushed off to catch up with Bellamy, while I stood in place, taking everything in. As I looked around, my eyes fell upon the girl whose voice I recognized earlier; Clarke Griffin, my childhood best friend.

Clarke stood by the edge of a cliff, staring down at the map in her hands. A tall boy with medium-length brown hair stood next to her. Based on the look upon her face, I figured I should head over there.

“Clarke?”

Clarke turned around, her eyes widening. “Athena?”

I couldn’t help but smile. It had been a year since I’d spoken to Clarke, and she looked exactly the same today as she did then. I remembered hearing stories of Clarke being arrested, the reasons often varying, but I never actually thought those rumours were true.

“What’s with the map?” I finally asked.

Clarke took a deep breath. “Do you two see that peak over there?”

Both I and the boy nodded.

“Mount Weather,” Clarke said. “There’s a radiation-soaked forest between us and our next meal. They dropped us on the wrong damn mountain.”

“Please tell me you’re joking?”

Clarke shook her head. “I wish I was.”

“We’ve got problems-” Wells Jaha, the son the Chancellor, spoke as he reached our little group. He stopped as his eyes landed on me. “Athena?”

I blinked, confusion setting over me. “Wells? What the hell did you do to get sent down here?”

“Don’t ask.” Wells shook his head, before continuing. “We’ve got problems. The communication system is dead. I went to the roof. A dozen panels are missing. Heat fried the wires.”

“Well, all that matters right now is getting to Mount Weather,” Clarke responded, marching closer to the dropship. She spread her map out on one of the wings. “See? This is us.” Clarke pointed to a spot on the map. “This is where we need to get to if we want to survive.” She moved her finger across the map.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” Wells asked.

Clarke’s face turned pale as she looked away. 

Wells sighed. “Your father.”

The two remained silent, as another boy with a pair of goggles strapped to his head approached. He leaned over Clarke’s shoulder, surveying the map.

“Cool, a map.” He spoke, looking Clarke up and down. “They got a bar in this town? I’ll buy you a beer.”

Wells lightly pushed the boy back. “Do you mind?”

“Woah.” The boy spoke, holding his hands up.

“Hey, hands off of him.” I turned to see a group of boys approaching. “He’s with us.” The rest of the delinquents were also gathered around us.

“Relax,” Wells spoke, stepping back. “We’re just trying to find out where we are.”

“We’re on the ground,” Bellamy spoke. “Is that not good enough for you?”

“We need to find Mount Weather. You heard my father’s message. That has to be our first priority.”

“Screw your father,” Octavia called out. “What, you think you’re in charge here? You and your little princess?” She was staring at Clarke.

Clarke shook her head. “Do you think we care who's in charge? We need to get to Mount Weather not because the Chancellor said so, but because the longer we wait, the hungrier we'll get and the harder it’ll be. How long do you think we'll last without those supplies? We're looking at a twenty-mile trek. So if we want to get there before dark, we need to leave now.”

“I’ve got a better idea,” Bellamy responded. “You two go, find it for us. Let the privileged do the hard work for a change.”

Everyone around us cheered.

“You’re not listening, we all need to go!” Wells urged. “Athena?”

Before I could respond, another boy spoke. “Athena Kane? You’re Marcus Kane’s daughter!”

“Your father floated my mother!”

“And my father!”

“Mine too!”

I looked at Wells, narrowing my eyes.

Wells shook it off. “We have to go, now.”

“Look at this everybody,” A boy stepped forward. “The Chancellor of Earth.”

“You think that’s funny?” Wells asked.

“No,” The boy responded, kicking Wells in the leg and watching him fall to the ground. “But that sure was.”

Cheers erupted through the forest, people begging them to fight.

“Come on, Wells.” The boy egged him on.

Wells stood up, getting into a fighting stance. Before any swings could be thrown, the medium-length haired boy jumped from the top of the dropship, landing between them.

“The kids got one leg.” He spoke to the boy. “Why don’t you wait until it’s a fair fight?”

“Hey, spacewalker!” Octavia called out. “Rescue me next.”

People began to laugh, the crowd dispersing. Bellamy grabbed Octavia’s arm, pulling her away.

“Uh,” The boy spoke to Clarke. “So, Mount Weather? When do we leave?”

“Right now,” Clarke replied, looking at Wells. “Finn and I will be back tomorrow with food.”

“How are the two of you going to carry enough food for a hundred people?”

Finn looked around, grabbing goggles boy and another. “Four of us.”

“Sounds like a party!” Octavia had rejoined the group. “Count me in.”

“What are you doing?” Bellamy asked.

Octavia rolled her eyes. “Going for a walk.”

Clarke suddenly reached for Finn’s hand. “Were you trying to take this off?”

The wristband.

“Yeah, so?”

“Well, I don't know. Do you want the people you love to think you're dead? Do you want them to follow you down here in two months? Because they won't if they think we're dying.”

Finn nodded. “Okay.”

“Now, let’s go.”

“Wait,” I spoke up. “I’m coming with you.”

Clarke grabbed my hand, leading me away slightly. “I need you to stay here.”

“Why?”

“Wells can hardly walk and I need someone to help him keep an eye on things here. I know it’s been forever since we’ve talked, but I trust you a hell of a lot more than anyone else here.” Clarke spoke, her eyes shifting to Wells for a moment.

I smiled. “I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment.”

She smiled back. “You got this?”

I nodded. “Be safe.”

Clarke and I made our way back to the group. She grabbed a bag before looking at Wells, who sat on the ground leaning against the dropship. “You really shouldn’t have come here, Wells.”

With that, Clarke headed off into the forest alongside Finn, Octavia, and the two other boys I’d yet to meet.

I looked at Wells, frowning. “Let’s get you into the dropship so you can rest your foot in peace.”

…

A few hours later, I found myself returning to camp after going on a water run, my efforts having been futile. Just as I was about to reach the camp, I spotted Wells gathering sticks. He had also been searching for water the last I’d seen him.

“No luck?”

Wells looked up, startled. “No, you?”

I shook my head. “There’s gotta be water somewhere.”

“Just not anywhere near us,” Wells sighed. “Want to give me a hand with these?”

I picked up a pile of sticks, following Wells towards the dropship. We began dropping them in an already started pile when footsteps came up behind us.

“Find any water yet?” It was the same boy who had tried to fight Wells earlier. I recently learned his name was John Murphy. He stood beside another boy, also named John.

“No, not yet-” Wells paused, his face going pale before he quickly pulled himself back together. “I’m going back out if you want to come.”

I followed Wells’ gaze, spotting something carved into the dropship: first son, first to dye.

“You know, my father begged for mercy in the airlock chamber before your father floated him,” Murphy spoke, his eyes narrowed in on Wells.

Wells shook his head, pushing past the pair. “You spelt die wrong, geniuses.”

I attempted to follow Wells, though both boys blocked my way. “Where do you think you’re going? Don’t think we haven’t forgotten about what your father did.”

Shaking my head, I took a step back. “That was my father’s doing, not mine. The same goes for Wells. Feel free to take it up with them when they come down here though. I’ll be the last to stop you.”

Murphy looked me up and down for a moment before a smirk crept across his face. He didn’t say anything, simply stepping out of my way. I took it as an opportunity to join Wells, who still stood just a few paces behind them.

“We’re not safe here, Athena,” Wells whispered.

“No, we’re not,” I agreed. “There’s nothing you or I can do about it, not until Clarke and the others get back. We just have to lay low, watch each other’s backs, like the good old days.”

Wells smiled. “I’d give anything to go back there right now.”

I let out a small, shaking breath. “You and me both.”

…

Wells and I spent the rest of the afternoon searching for water, with no luck. As we came closer to the camp, I stopped. Noticing my absence from beside him, Wells also stopped, turning around to face me.

“Can I ask you something?” Wells nodded. “What happened with Clarke? I heard stories in lockup but never from anyone who had actually been there.”

Wells was quiet for a moment, kicking his feet around in the dirt. “Her father discovered a flaw in the Ark. That they’re running out of air. He wanted to go public with it.”

“But he didn’t?”

“Clarke found out and told me, and a few days later her father was arrested.”

My heart sank into my stomach. “You told your father, didn’t you?”

Wells shook his head. “It wasn’t me, but Clarke thinks it was.”

“So he was floated?” I was having a hard time processing all of this.

“Yeah,” Wells responded. “Clarke saw it happen, and then she was arrested too.”

I shook my head. “I had no idea…”

“That was kinda the point,” Wells mumbled.

I frowned. “You haven’t told Clarke it wasn’t you, have you?”

“I can’t tell her, Athena,” Wells said, not able to look me in the eye.

“Why not?”

Wells once again fell silent. “It was her mother.”

My eyes grew wide. “You’re sure?”

“It wasn’t me and I’m the only one Clarke told. Do you really think she’d expect her mother to turn her father in?” Wells asked. “I can’t tell her. It would break her, especially now.”

“So you let her hate you…”

Wells frowned. “Better than her hating her mother.”

I smiled softly. “You’re a really good friend, you know that?”

Before Wells could respond, the sound of screams filled the air. They were coming from the camp. Both of us looked at each other before hurrying our way back. By the time we arrived, there was a large crowd surrounding the campfire.

We both pushed our way through the crowd, spotting Murphy prying off a girl named Fox’s wristband. She winced as the wristband popped off, and Murphy tossed it into the fire.

“Who’s next?” Bellamy asked.

“What the hell are you doing?” Wells asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

Bellamy smirked. “We’re liberating ourselves. What does it look like?”

“It looks like you’re trying to kill us all.” I hissed.

“The communication system is dead. These wristbands are all we got. Take them off, and the Ark will think we're dying, that it's not safe for them to follow.” Wells added.

“That’s the point, Chancellor,” Bellamy replied. “We can take care of ourselves, can’t we?”

Everyone around them cheered.

“Do you think this is a game? Those aren't just our friends and our parents up there. They're our farmers, our doctors, our engineers.” Wells shouted, looking around the crowd. “I don't care what he tells you. We won't survive here on our own, and besides, if it really is safe, how could you not want the rest of our people to come down?”

“My people are already down here,” Bellamy replied. “Those people locked my people up. Those people killed my mother for the crime of having a second child. Your father did that.”

Wells shook his head. “My father didn’t write the laws.”

“No, he enforced them, but not anymore, not here. Here there are no laws. Here, we do whatever the hell we want, whenever the hell we want. Now, you two don't have to like it. You can even try to stop it or change it, kill me even. You know why?” Bellamy’s smirk only grew wider. “Whatever the hell we want.”

“Whatever the hell we want!” Murphy cheered.

Everyone began chanting around us, repeating those five words over and over again. I couldn’t believe it. How could they all be so stupid? So selfish? They were going to get all of us killed.

Suddenly, I felt a speck of water hit my bare arm. Then another, and another. Then, water began falling from the sky rapidly.

“It’s rain,” A girl called out. “Real rain!”

The cheering began once again, as I lifted my head to stare at the sky, letting the rain wash over my face. It was as if all of my previous worries washed away for a few moments.

“We need to collect this,” Wells spoke up, yanking me from my bliss.

Bellamy smiled. “Whatever the hell you want.”

~

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