#i would like to thank masking fluid for my life on the second one

[keeskiwi]

Some more esk watercolors :)

[ghostpetalss]

hi!! i was wondering if you would write some nsfw headcanons for eyeless jack? (mayb w a reader who likes praise if ud be down 💪💪) thank you so much!! take your time, i love your writing :))

Eyeless Jack HeadCanons NSFW

I love when they ask for headcanons, since they are much easier and faster to write without having to follow a specific rhythm haha

The only frustrating thing about this was that the first time I took the time to write it it DIDN'T SAVE and I had to do it again aghhh.

¡English is not my first language! So it's possible that the writing sucks.

First of all, being a demon that eats organs, has no eyes and drips gasoline from its sockets... I don't think it's small at all...

I feel like he would be about 7 feet tall and 9 inches on his cock.

I doubt that he initiates the sexual touch, so the most likely thing is that you have to take the initiative.

There is as much chance of him rejecting you as there is of him playing along, that depends on how long you have known each other and the trust that HE places in you.

Do not be discouraged if he rejects you, he has 2 very logical reasons for refusing.

If it has not been well fed, instinctively speaking, it is very likely that it will stay away from you, because if it has an outbreak it could attack you to tear off a piece of your body and it does he not want that.

He is aware that he is a big guy and if you are much shorter than him, it will be uncomfortable for him, I'm sorry.

But ruling out rejection, if you let time pass calmly and gain his trust, ¡he will have no problem experimenting with you!

Plus, whether you're depressed or not, he'll always be a gentleman and shower you with praise, and if he notices you're depressed, ¡he'll triple his love for you!

I feel very offensive about this comment that I will make, but I feel that Jack is like a dog or animal that can sniff out where you are and how you feel and I have a feeling that Jack can know at all times how you are, therefore, you will not even need to express your feelings.

Imagine that while you are together in bed you are surreptitiously covering with your hands some scar, wound, you are chubby, etc. and he notices your discomfort because he feels the smell in the air, he would only slow down the pace of his hips to remove your hands from him and kisse your insecurities, repeating between kisses how perfect you are for him.

I'm crying glitter.

Jack doesn't take off his mask because he feels insecure about his face and because he doesn't want to get carried away and bite you.

If you tell him that you are not afraid of him and give him the necessary confidence, he may uncover his face halfway to reveal his mouth full of sharp fangs and somewhat drooling tongues.

He will kiss you carefully so as not to cut you with his teeth.

If he feels very hot and dissatisfied with his own touch, he may lick your skin, especially chest and neck, bonus points if you are a woman and have moderately large breasts, he will love them and nurse himself.

He won't bite you at any time, because if he makes you bleed, he will turn into an animal in a second, and I don't mean that in a nice way.

It doesn't matter if you are a man or a woman, whatever it is, you will enjoy an oral from this man.

Just think about it, if you are a woman, you will feel their tongues stirring your entrance in a thousand and one ways, feeling the viscosity of their saliva mix with the fluids inside you.

And if you are a man, get ready to receive the best blowjob of your life.

The cherry on top is the aftercare, he will help you clean you and lie down with you, sticking you to him so that little by little during the course of the night he will be completely on top of you, covering you with his body.

Damn if you want to go to the bathroom during the night or want to get out of bed while he's still asleep, you won't be able to wake him up, he's a very heavy sleeper HAHAHA.

[gaybananabread]

••@hexalianrebel-blackfeathers - I'm thinking #4 (Hide and Seek) with either Miguel or Doc Ock as the ler and our favorite Spider-Gang as lees.••

TickleTober Day 4 - Hide and Seek

~Okay, I’ve been so excited to write this one! I need to show the Ocks some more love, and I absolutely adore these two! This is stupidly long. I have no regrets. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!~

Lees: Miles, Pavitr, Gwen, Hobie

Lers: Otto Octavious (Alfred Molina), Olivia Octavious

Summary: When stranded in another alternate dimension, Otto is recruited by an unexpected variant of himself. Things get complicated when the Spider-Gang tries to stop their heist. Finding a heart, Otto offers an ulterior method to win against their young adversaries.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

Otto's life had been…well, interesting was a word for it. Just when he thought he was done being tossed from universe to universe, a random portal opened and yoinked him out of the current wrong dimension, leaving him lost once again.

The new world seemed…animated, in a sense. Otto definitely didn't fit the style, what with everyone’s 3D animationesque appearances. There was no way he could get around without being recognized as an anomaly, but he couldn’t very well stay where he was…

Before he could slip further into his thoughts, a small band bounced off his head and fell into an open robotic tentacle; he didn’t know it, but it was a Spider Society day pass. A woman’s voice called from above him, sounding eerily smug and conniving.

“Come with me, Octavious 96283. We have some pests to exterminate.”

-

“So…you built all of this alone? Without funding?” Otto looked around the small lab, wondering how on Earth the woman managed to construct such high-tech equipment by herself. It was in an abandoned office building, sure, but it was still a solid facility.

“Yes. It was a hindrance to use purely damaged technology and scrapped fragments from Alchemax sites, but I think I’ve created an adequate workspace.”

Otto would hardly stop at “adequate” to describe the place. There were monitors, a small dissection area, multiple glass test tubes with various liquids, and a research station; it’s a lab his teenage self would undoubtedly be envious of.

“You mentioned pests?” He tried to steer the conversation in a more manageable direction; maybe she’d help him get home if he fed into her plot.

“I did, yes. There have been more and more of these spider pests popping up since the creation of their little Society. After their mistake ruined my research, I figured I’d refocus my efforts on eliminating them all together, starting with unlocking the mechanics of their interdimensional travel.”

Olivia didn’t stop for a single second, flitting around her lab while she spoke. “I need your help with acquiring a few parts for my newest portal prototype. Just a simple heist, nothing too flashy.”

-

He should’ve known that was bullshit.

I mean, who actually told the truth when they said “just a simple” anything? Running through the bustling, animated city with thousands of dollars of technological advances in his arms. Olivia was a version of him, after all; he never told anyone the entirety of his plans.

Things went from bad to worse when he heard the tell-tale sound of web shooters firing.

“Damn those brats!” Olivia’s hiss put him more on edge than the possibility of being arrested. The spider he was most recently with was quite nice and empathetic, but he wasn’t sure how this universe’s protector carried themselves. Wait…did she say brats, plural?

“Drop the tech, tentacle heads!” A younger-sounding voice called out right before a ball of web fluid came flying at Otto’s face. He used a tentacle to catch it, but the mechanics of the triceps were immediately clogged.

The man got a closer look as the boy – probably, he wasn’t sure – approached: black suit, red details, thin frame, wide eye mask. Yeah, that kid definitely wasn’t old enough to be risking his life like that.

To his surprise, three more costumed teens – again, not a known fact, but they definitely seemed young – backed the black-clad spider up. The varying styles shocked him: ornate reds and blues, black and white with pops of color, and all-out punk outfit with the classic colors beneath. Yeah, they were definitely from different dimensions.

Olivia, on the other hand, sprang into action. She snapped a few lines of web that were shot her way, obviously used to fending off all four of them at once. Otto couldn’t help but wince as the ornate teen was whacked into the brick alley wall by one of her tentacles.

The one in white called out and ran to him – he assumed she was a girl, given her costume and intonation – while the punk charged Olivia. Otto was playing defense against the boy in black and red, trying not to hurt him.

While the man was putting up a pretty good fight, the black-and-red Spider-Man still managed to grab his duffle bag of stolen tech. Olivia started to shout at him to get it back before a small web smacked her in the face, covering her mouth. That enraged the woman to a new extent he hadn’t thought possible.

A lot of things fell into place for the man when Olivia lobbed a steel trash can at the lanky punk; they were fighting children, or at most very young adults.The rage in the woman’s eyes… Yeah, no.

Were the teens trying to arrest them and foil Olivia’s plan? Yes. Did that stop Otto from caring that they were probably minors who definitely shouldn’t be taking that many hard hits? Abso-fucking-lutely not.

Otto reached for the bag, hoping to get it away from the boy so they could just retreat. One of his tentacle claws managed to grab the boy's side, meaning to hold him still; what he hadn’t expected, however, was the boyish squeal that ripped from the black-clad spider’s throat.

In the midst of Otto’s surprise, the teen managed to slip out of the mechanical grip and…disappear? An invisibility power would have been incredibly helpful for the boy – that is, if the duffle he was carrying wasn’t still visible.

God, these kids need some proper training…

Despite his associate’s murderous rage, the punk seemed to have grabbed Olivia’s duffle as well. Behind him, Otto caught a glimpse of the ornate boy and white-clad spiders zipping up to a rooftop. Sensing that they were fighting a losing battle, the other two followed them up, duffles in hand.

“Damn it! I need those parts, or all of this will have been for nothing!” Olivia moved to charge after them, but the man held out a mechanical arm to stop her; her fiery glare was hard to ignore, but he did his best.

“Wait. I know they’ve been pains in the asses, but we can’t… Is there really a reason to truly harm them? You have to know that they’re hardly old enough to even consider doing what they do.” Otto spoke from his heart, hoping at least a fraction of his words would hit something human within the woman.

“What do you suggest we do then? Let them get away with hours of careful preparations and the keys to my plans?”

“I have a better idea. One that involves less…aggressive tactics. You’ll still get your revenge, of course.”

Olivia quirked a brow, eyes still trained on the rooftop the young heroes fled towards. The anger was still burning on her features, but a slight tweak of contemplation tugged at the corner of her mouth. “I’m listening, 96283. Make it fast.”

-

Welp, Miles was dead. Or rather, he was going to be dead very, very soon.

One Doc Ock was already hard enough to handle, but two? Even with his fellow spiders’ help, the teen doubted they’d be able to do much against the two forces. Retreat was one of their only smart options, but he could hear the thudding of mechanical claws behind him. The duffle bag in his arms seemed to weigh more by the second, burning with the knowledge that they’d be on his tail until he either forked it over or somehow managed to find enough time to portal out.

His friends scattered around him, fanning out in their practiced formation. They’d meet up behind a small bakery before portaling back to the Society. Unfortunately for Miles, that meant he had to find a way there by himself.

As Miles swung by an alley opening, a robotic tentacle shot out at him from the darkness. He managed to keep the duffle bag out of its grip, but the four synthetic claws closed around his chest in its tight grasp.

“GYAH- get off!” Miles’s heart sank as he watched the owner of the tentacle emerge, her cold eyes gleaming behind iridescent green lenses.

“Hello, little spider. I believe you have something of mine~” Olivia grabbed the duffle with her other tentacles, but Miles held strong; he did have super strength, after all.

“Fine. I’ll get that bag one way or another, you pest.”

Before he could wonder what kind of painful torture he’d endure, Miles felt the synthetic claws dig into his stomach. Caught off guard, he couldn’t help the giggly squeak that escaped him.

“GYEEhehe! Wh-whahahat?!” Miles wriggled and squirmed in the tentacle’s grip, the lenses on his mask wide and confused. It was almost cute, though Liv shoved that thought as far back in her mind as it would go; weakness wasn’t going to get her that tech.

“What? It’s pretty obvious: give me the bag, or I make this a lot worse for you. I don’t have anywhere to be, sweetie~” Liv teased him as she worked, trying to tug the bag out of his iron-like grip. She could’ve just ripped the bottom and taken the parts…but where’s the fun in that?

“D-dohohon’t cahall me thahahat!” Beneath his mask, Miles’s cheeks warmed with red. She was just trying to kill him a moment ago; why’d she switch to doing that?! He didn’t really want her trying to kill him either, but it was an insane jump!

“Thihis ihis stuhuhuhupid!”

“On the contrary, Spider-Man, I’d say this is quite informative. I get to learn all of your weak points in just a few minutes; I’d hardly call that stupid.”

As if to prove her point, Olivia dragged two of her free claws up the red marking on his suit, stopping right below his underarms. The shrill squeal the action received was utterly adorable.

Ugh, Otto got to me, didn’t he?

“NOHOHohohooo! Lehemme gohoho!” The teen clamped his arms to his sides, still somehow managing to hold on to the duffle. He was starting to wonder if it was even worth it… No, it was; the parts still needed to be returned, even if it meant sacrificing his dignity.

“As soon as you let go of my technology, Spider-Brat.” Okay, enough games; Liv wanted that duffle bag. Forcing his arms above his head, she sent two tentacles to claw at his armpits.

Miles was not proud of the sounds he made after that.

“NAHAHAHAHA! NOHOT THEHEHERE!” Miles’s mind nearly went blank from the intense sensations shooting through his nervous system. He released his hold on the duffle bag, trying to slam his arms down.

Olivia snatched up the bag, stopping her assault to securely wrap her tentacles around it. Miles was sort-of gently put down, curling into a ball on the alleyway pavement. What the hell…?

“Was that so hard?” She dangled the bag in front of his face, taunting him. Miles tried to get back up, but he was utterly exhausted; the best he could do was shoot a web, which missed Liv by around two feet.

“As much as I’d love to rub this in, I have places to be. Try to stay out of my way, little spider~” With that, she used her tentacles to scale the side of the alleyway, taking off on the rooftops. She had an annoyingly truthful variant to find.

Miles wanted to go after the woman, but he was spent; it would’ve endangered both himself and his team if he tried fighting in that state. Shakily getting to his feet, Miles made his way to the bakery.

Hopefully the others would fare better than he did.

-

Otto almost felt bad for the spider kid he was holding. It had barely been a minute, but the guy was absolutely losing it, snorting and laughing so loudly that Otto wondered if the one he was trying to bait had gone deaf. Where was that punk?

“Stop it! Let him go, tentacle head!” Gwen shouted and squirmed in the metal tentacle’s grasp, trying to get to Pav. He wasn’t injured when he got thrown, but she still didn’t want him to be getting…tortured? She had no idea what the villain was trying to accomplish, but she wasn’t about to watch her friend struggle without a fight.

“Tentacle head? Really?” Otto smiled slightly, turning his focus on Gwen. Pav was still getting his stomach attacked, of course, but the claw on his neck left to go toy with her. “Here I thought you spiders were supposed to be funny.”

Gwen squirmed as she saw the tentacle coming towards her, but didn’t back down. It couldn’t be that bad, right? Pavitr’s stomach was just stupidly ticklish; she could tough it out until either Miles or Hobie arrived to help. Probably…

“N-NOHOHOHOT HEHER! PLEHEHEASE!” Pav did his best to try and save Gwen from his fate, but it really only made the older man chuckle. The kids were ridiculous; it was kind of adorable.

“Sorry kids, but your friend has something I need. Don’t worry; I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

With that, the claw began squeezing at Gwen’s sides, her laughter soon joining Pavitr’s in the alley. Otto severely doubted the punk had gone very far; he just needed the boy to take the bait.

He wasn’t disappointed.

“OI! Drop ‘em, ya big sashimi!” Hobie swung into the mix, the second duffle bag hanging securely off his back. He slammed his boots into the tentacle holding Pav, causing it to drop the tired boy onto the ground. He holds up a shaky thumb before being waved away by Hobie.

“You kids and your octopus jokes.” Otto chuckled, watching his hostage stumble to his feet and swing away. The trust the kids had in each other was sweet, albeit a little optimistic.

“H-HOHOHOBIE! WHEHERE’S MIHILES?” Gwen continued to try and escape the tickly tentacle, but it was a lot harder than it looked; those things were strong. Hobie couldn’t help but roll his eyes at that. She’s being held hostage, and Miles is the thing she’s worried about?

“Ge’ your priorities straight, Gwendy!” Coming back around, Hobie fired off a barrage of webs, trying to jam the claws grabbing at him. It’s three against one, though; a claw managed to catch him by the wrist, yanking him up and into the air in front of Otto.

Hobie struggled in the tentacle’s grip as Gwen continued to laugh and kick at the one holding her. Otto knew his objective; he was just gonna goof off a bit before completing it.

“Now, I’m gonna need that duffle bag, kid.” Otto sent one of the tentacles out to try and grab the bag off his shoulders, but Hobie kicked at the biotech the moment it was in range. Fine by him; the hard way was so much more fun.

“Alright then. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, kiddo.” With that, he stepped forwards, squeezing the boy’s sides. Hobie tried to punch him, but one of his free tentacles came to hold the teen’s other wrist.

Hobue refused to giggle at first, just kicking his feet and trying to escape. When Otto reached his underarms, however, that dam practically exploded.

“GEHEHE’ OHOHOFFA MEHEHE!” Hobie thrashed about in the claws’ hold, his cheeks quickly heating up. Damn it, why’d he have to be so ticklish?!

“Wow. I mean, I wasn’t expecting my plan to fail, but you kids really are ticklish. It’s kinda adorable.” Otto teased them, willing the claw on Gwen’s sides to take things a little easier; he was mainly focused on Hobie.

“Shuhut uhuhup!” Gwen’s squeaky voice rang out beside him as she struggled. While she was grateful for the slight reprieve, Otto was still a villain. She was gonna escape and haul his strangely non-violent ass back to whatever dimension he came from.

It was at that inconvenient moment that Liv found Otto. I mean, it wasn’t hard; the sound of Hobie’s laughter and Gwen’s squeaks could be heard for at least half a mile.

“Seriously, 96283? Just keep him still.” Rolling her eyes, she went behind the squirmy teen and unbuckled the strap on the bag. It easily slipped off his back, falling straight into Liv’s arms. “Don’t mess around for too long. Those little menaces multiply.”

With that, she left Otto to his devices, getting away with the stolen goods. Hobie groaned, struggling against the claws to try and follow her. That struggle quickly changed focus when one of the wiggling claws moved behind his knees. He snorted, nose scrunching as a red hue burned on his face.

Okay, that was embarrassing. For once, he hoped Miles and Pav disregarded team protocol; they could really use some back-up.

Thankfully, those two could almost never listen.

A chunk of rubble slammed into the tentacle holding Gwen, causing it to reel back and drop her. A flash of red and blue scooped her up before she could hit the concrete.

Before Otto can react, a web ball smacks him in the face. He stumbles, the tentacles holding Hobie dropping him in favor of protecting their master. A black streak catches the tall teen, setting him down a safe distance away.

“T-toohok you lohohong enouhuhugh!” Hobie shouted after the other teen, struggling to recover from his rather silly predicament. Miles just stuck his tongue out at him before whirling on Otto.

Once Gwen was set safely aside to recover, Pavitr got back into the fray. He used his bangles and webs to sling-shot himself at the man, catching him in the chest and knocking him off balance. Miles followed suit, weaving around the tentacles to try and get as many shots in as possible.

Otto groaned, staggering as he tried to at least block the kids’ hits. He didn’t want to fight them, but…well, he did need to get back to his dimension.

“WAIT! Just- surrendering! I surrender!” Otto staggered backwards, holding his hands up defensively. Miles went to lunge again, but Pavitr grabbed his shoulder to stop him.

“Hey, hold on. He’s done.” For safety, the two webbed otto up, restraining his arms–organic and metal–before checking on the others.

Hobie, while winded, was okay; he didn’t seem too happy, though. “Whahat the fuck, Octavious? Seriously? Ticklin’?”

“Would you rather I have fought you by swinging hundred-pound metals at your heads?” Otto just smiled, apparently not that upset that he’d been caught.

“No, but…why?” Gwen walked over as well, still holding her sides; she played it off as crossing her arms. She scanned Otto with her watch, locating his universe; it was the newer, much more humane way they were returning the criminals to their dimensions.

“You’re all children, are you not? I figured it wouldn’t be too out of the ordinary.”

All four of them froze at that, sharing one quick “oh shit” look. How did he know? It was literally the first time any of them had seen him; what tipped him off?

“Hey, calm down. I’m ready to go home, not guess at secret identities.” Otto’s tone was strangely paternal, though the group chose to ignore that fact.

“I…whatever. C’mon, guys.” Gwen ushered the villain forward, dissolving the webs right as he stepped through the glowing orange portal.

After a moment of healthy silence to process whatever the hell just happened, Pav broke the silence.

“Well…that was eventful.” He chuckled as Hobie shoved his shoulder, happy to break the tension. Hobie used his watch to make a portal to his universe, tugging the joyful boy in to go watch bad movies and forget about the silly mission.

Miles took a few tentative side-steps towards Gwen, hoping to dissolve some of the awkwardness around her as well.

“Ya know…I don’t need to be home for a good few hours. We could go check out that new record shop in my universe, if you’re up for it…?”

“...alright. Can we get shakes afterwards too?”

“Yeah, no problem. Vinyl and peanut butter fudge await us.”

“Await us?”

“We’re doin’ a Shakespeare analysis, gimme a break!”

-

Oliva set down her duffles of parts, satisfied with how the day went. Sure, her variant was captured and relocated, but she got what she needed out of him. With the tech they’d managed to scrounge up, her plans were perfectly viable.

While getting the pieces organized, Liv couldn’t help but think back on the heist. One of her tentacles had a small glitch; she’d need to run a few diagnostics to see what went wrong.

She also thought about the hellions that tried to ruin her plans yet again. The method Otto implemented to subdue them, while ridiculous, had been surprisingly effective. The supposed teens’ laughter had been rather…well, adorable, for a lack of better words.

When he caught her reflection in the screen, she saw a smile, of all things, greeting her. It was a weakness, finding joy in such frivolous matters. Damn that variant and his infectious ideals!

Still, he was right; it was much easier to tickle them instead of fight.

She’d have to try it again in the future…

[ms0milk]

by any other name

sanemi x reincarnated!oc

Sanemi doesn't have the strength to lock himself away from this new Flower Hashira and even finds himself fighting to stay near her. Will he be strong enough to stay so close when her secret is revealed? cw heavily suggestive MDNI, marking, humping, grinding, breast-play, mentions of bodily fluids, ever so slightly submissive nems, 3.5k

thank you for your patience @sanemisbitch you were such a trooper waiting for this @ficsforgaza piece to be published and I'm so grateful! thank you for this request and thank you too for trusting me with your lovely oc Leo. What a total joy to work with :) you have her character so well flushed out, i do hope you enjoy.

Sanemi paces patina into the hardwood floors of the butterfly mansion. It was a mission gone wrong– gone exactly how they always go. Friends cut down, in the hospital, buried shallow somewhere. Even in her own house, Kocho doesn’t bother visiting the sickbay when the Flower Hashira’s under care. She never got over the promotion. When the girl's sunflax hair shone beside Ubuyashiki, when flower floated off his tongue, Kocho, Shinobu, tore up grass in her prostration.

Sanemi’s holdups aren’t so sensitive. When Aoi pops her choppy bangs out of the room he kicks the door in on her.

“Hey!” She bites and swings it shut again. Aoi’s not sensitive either. She might fight a war for Leo. She might fight the Hashira that dares to disturb her friend, but in the bed at the corner of the room, Leo swells at the sight of Sanemi. Her left arm is bandaged and three stitches march in a row out of her hairline, and other than a few punctures nothing remains of the bloody mask she wore when kakushi carried her here.

She smiles big, “Baum,” and reaches out both hands to hold him.

“Baum my ass!” Sanemi swats her fingers down like a naughty child and reels back up again for a good lecture. She thought she’d found it. An in to Muzan’s life, one of the houses he uses for cover, maybe the one with his laboratory– and whether or not she was right stopped being important the second the quiet farmhouse exploded in clouds and gas and needles of poison. Some kind of pined-demon, horrible like a hedgehog, took out most of her team in the dark. Seven crows were sent for reinforcements and five were found dead on the trail after Sanemi was dispatched to cover a kakushi retreat. She’d been carried past him limp and bloody on the back of a soldier. “What were you thinking!”

“thinking that I’m happy to see you.”

“Bullshit,” Sanemi hisses. He raises his finger, “You were selfish.”

“Not true.”

“You were–”

“Baum,” Leo tilts her spot-bandaged head. Her round cheeks catch sunlight like apples. “I was just Hashira. I think like Hashira, you would have done the same and now I get to see you and tell you all about it.”

“It was dusk.”

“It was a Hinoe raid. It’s the best the corps had and before I mourn them I’d like to hold my friend.”

She is so much like her. So much it’s terrifying and suddenly Sanemi wishes he were in Shinobu’s office warming a dish of sake and ignoring bloody flowers.

“Watch your mouth Shinazugawa.”

“Aoi, can I speak to the grump alone please?” Sanemi continues to ignore Aoi’s hatred but he notes when the door clicks closed behind her so he can flop down in a chair. “Baumkuchen,” Leo coos again, “are you okay?”

“Fucking furious.”

She sinks slightly into the pillow propping her up and shifts her carefree smile into something slightly sterner. “I’m sorry,” comes out clearly, “did you have friends in the Hinoe team? I lead them to their death.” Her gentle fingers pinch each other where she tucks them in her lap. The threads of her blanket pucker.

What’s he gonna do with her? How could a general apologize for her soldiers before apologizing for herself? “Not the problem,” he says. The corps dies, that’s what it’s for. Hashira die, that’s the job description, that’s his destiny, it’s your future, that’s the problem.

“Doesn’t help, I’m sure.”

“Nothing helps,” he sighs.

“I’m glad it was you.” Sanemi turns his head towards her and the window that frames her bed like a wince. “I’m happy you’re here, I’m glad the crow found you.”

“I was nearby,” his heart aches, “you got lucky.”

In the interim still Leo slips her hand into his and he doesn’t, he never, pulls away. She calls him Baum again, Baumkuchen, her favorite dessert and asks him about his injuries which were mostly self-inflicted. Asks after his crow, damage to his sword, if he’s eaten. She smiles the same, she pouts the same, she smells the same– lilies of the valley– why does he torture himself like this? Why hasn’t he locked himself away from her?

Leo tucks a sheaf of blonde behind her ear while clucking about whatever kindnesses the butterfly staff have shown her this morning. He shouldn’t even be here, he doesn’t need to be. She reaches forward with her soft pink hand and he flinches, “Baum?” but he’s been staring too long to pretend not to care. “Can you,” she falters at his surprise and points to the table between them, just out of her bandaged reach, “my hairclip?”

That rotten thing. Sanemi kicks himself. The pink paper butterfly she showed up with after final selection two years ago. Good luck charm. She couldn’t have known what it meant or who she was trying to replace. “We match!” she’d exclaimed, more at Shinobu than in conversation with her after that first Hashira meeting. But the insect pillar’s mean-nothing smile had curdled just slightly and Leo withered. Everyone did, even Tengen slipped quietly from the manor.

Sanemi presses the delicate wings into Leo’s hand and watches the eerie movements of a ghost as she perches the insect between her lips. Four fingers drawing the wisps away from her face and everything– every breath, every movement just like– “Sanemi.” She must be finished. He lifts his head and considers simply leaving the room when he realizes how she is watching. Leo and her horrible clip paint a pretty silhouette in sunlight. She nestles her hands in the place her blanket dips between her thighs and always she has that miserable, wonderful smile holding up the corners of her lips.

So many times, so many conversations and missions, all lined with her silent pleading. She is always on the precipice of saying something, and that is uniquely her own.

“Why do you always look away?” She concedes– obviously not what she wanted to ask– before he realizes he’s not only staring but also leaning ever so slightly closer to her sick bed. Sanemi stands up to leave.

“Baum.”

“Rest up, pincushion.”

“Sanemi.”

He waves her words away without turning from the door like trying to clear a horrible smell.

“The Hinoe, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t care,” he tries to yawn or embody any iteration of unbother and pulls the door open to free himself. Maybe Aoi will be waiting outside, maybe his crow has come to announce another mission. Kanroji is certainly already on the road here to preen over her friend and if he leaves now he could easily avoid her, but Leo’s sickbed betrays her movement behind him and before he can turn to scold her for rising, she’s already started to speak.

“Hirotaka,” she grunts with the exertion of swinging her legs over the lip of the mattress, “Yorochi.”

The recital was startling enough for Sanemi without her hauling out of bed and breaking her neck. Tens, hundreds of tiny pinprick scabs freckle the clear milk of her skin as she faces him down with all the gentle strength of the woman who came before her. “Alright,” he submits, turning back to face her, to shoo her down.

“Fusaharu,” she continues with her blanket pulled aside. There were only three Hinoe swordsmen on the mission but names continue to pour off Leo’s tongue, “Naohiro, Iori, Hikoto.” All her sweet demeanor hardens. There was once a Hashira who remembered every name of every soldier that ever fell. “Yoshishige.” As Leo continues, the blood falls from Sanemi’s face. Something stirs. His eyes go wide. “Kumeno.”

The doorknob snaps off in his hand and the pillar is suddenly across the room, against her, up in the face of the person pretending to be her. “How do you know that name?” He demands. He bunches the front of Leo’s robes in a fist and she is serene. It’s the first name of the friend who died instead of him four years ago against that Lower-Rank One. “You can’t know that name,” he growls. He clenches his fist tighter at her chest.

“I know them all,” she murmurs. She is close enough to smell and it comes back to him in waves. Plum, Peony, Hanaguromo, the forms of her Flower Breath overwhelm him when she speaks so close, pulled so close by him. Leo cups his fist with her two hands, “How could you say you don’t care?”

He’s not truly listening because something has finally started to churn behind his eyes like the sea, something his mother used to say. Good boys leave with the Buddha. Good boys are reborn as princes and kings, so work hard in this life. Sanemi shakes his arm and her with it but he is alight with something other than anger and shudders more than he means to.

Leo pauses, sweetness returning, “Bau–?”

“Kanae?” His voice cracks.

It’s impossible. He knows it’s not real and that he’s just set his reputation of sanity up in flames but all the gods on their thrones can’t be allowed to torture him with impunity. He’ll question them, he’ll pull them off their lotuses. Immediately, Leo’s eyes shine with tears.

He shakes his head, she cups it. He should be angry for this dirty trick and he should throw a punch. His fingers tremble where they land on her round cheeks. “Kanae?” He tries again even weaker this time. Leo nods wildly and the tears are racing off of her lashes and over his thumbs. “It’s not funny,” he barely manages. There is a lump and he can’t keep it from fighting its way up his throat.

“I wouldn’t,” she breathes before he loses all control of himself and leans down to kiss her.

He thought this might be what heaven looked like on the day he finally lost a fight. He imagined his siblings gathered under a tree as he crept up behind them on some obnoxiously nice summer’s day. He always imagined Kanae with them. She would be reading in a pretty purple yukata like Aoi had always described and she’d see him before any of his family did. He’d cry, she’d smile, his brother would notice the lull in her reading and turn around to ruin the surprise. Paradise was big enough. His friends, his family, the love of his life, he’d never have to raise a sword again.

Leo’s lips against his, he’s always imagined this. The florals of Kanae’s hair, he’s kept the taste of it safe for long in his memory he worried it might slip out and so he pulls away. When Sanemi takes a step back he falls to the floor. “Nem!” Leo winces and follows him right down. She tucks off of her bed and slumps on the ground in front of where he landed with his hands splay bracing behind him.

“Why– didn’t you say anything?”

“I couldn’t,” she attempts to explain and her butterfly clip comes loose in that sunsilk hair. Leo’s left arm bandages are tight enough but if she keeps making that ridiculous expression her stitches are going to pop, “I still can’t it’s– a curse! I wanted to tell you Sanemi, I gave up telling–”

“It’s not real.” There are tears in Sanemi’s eyes now too. It can’t be. His lips still taste like lilies and Leo’s concern floods her big bug eyes just like Kanae’s once did. What would Kocho think? He pushes himself to a proper sit. “Who are you?”

“Leo,” she whispers as his tears start to fall. She crawls slightly forward on her knees, still lacking strength from last night’s poison. She is taller than Kanae was and just as kind. She’s just as stern and deceptive in her gentleness and Sanemi misses her, so, so much. “You know me,” Leo says as she reaches for him. He doesn’t stop her. She takes up his hand and lifts it to her chest on her knees above him. She presses it deep against her heart. “Please know me.”

He does. He shouldn’t.

Sanemi lets her hold his hand in the swell of her breast and doesn’t flinch when she rests her other palm against his wet cheek. He caught a branch to the face last night and a little girl named Sumi insisted he crouch down so she could bandage it this morning. Leo thumbs the dot of cloth as his tears soak through the fabric. She kisses him.

It can be true for however long it takes Sanemi to finally hold the world in his arms. Leo fingers twitter through his sleepless hair and drag against his scalp. He can hardly stay upright, can hardly do anything but let her lips pull him closer. On the floor, his hands fall from her chest and fumble up her thighs from where she hovers above him. How long has she wanted this? Sanemi’s breath catches when Leo slips her tongue across his teeth and places a hand on his chest. His heartbeat is a window to his soul and it tries as hard as it can now on the floor of a hospital room, to rip itself from its chest and settle between Leo’s fingers. She sings to it. She pulls away.

“Baum?” He hardly hears her and chases the space between their lips, “Sanemi,” she tries again. His eyes are heavy in the sunlight that frames her. His hold on her thighs becomes hungry.

“Again,” he murmurs to the beat of the pulse on his lips.

“Sanemi.” The voice of his second love drips through his ears and she lowers her face back to his so that he might breathe her in again.

“Please.”

“Shinazugawa Sanemi.”

When she kisses him this time she does not cry. Leo’s butterfly is long discarded and on the floor beside her bed, her white robe pools at her knees. She braces herself against Sanemi’s chest, in his hair and across his shoulders on her knees in the dust and wood. Her tongue leads his into a game of devour and suddenly her hips have slotted quietly against his as she straddles his lap. Suddenly a kiss is not enough. How long has he wanted her? Gentle general.

Leo’s lips trail farther, deeper into the nooks and notches of Sanemi’s jaw and he has to hold her to keep from falling back. His fingertips trace an uncertain line up her spine. Hers cradle his face and match pulse with the heartbeat in his ribcage. Leo’s tongue is hot on clammy parts of him and draws a sharp breath when Sanemi bucks into her at a soft angle. He growls just slightly in embarrassment.

How? He wants to ask, all this time, “How–”

“Don’t.” Leo whispers, “I can’t. Know me, understand by holding me.” And whether or not it’s true there’s nothing he wants to do more. She is new, she is not Kanae, she is not the woman Sanemi loved, but she is loved by him. How many people exist inside of her? Her. Who was…who were they before Kanae slipped inside? What makes up this person he loves so?

Leo begins to lose control of that perfect temper and her breath comes more harshly than a Hashira’s should. Sanemi’s thighs vibrate with the weight of her, lighter than air and warmer than anything he could have ever imagined. They find a rhythm and once knees dig into waists and hips warm hips neither of them remember how to properly fill their lungs. Her kisses and nips lose focus. She shudders and Sanemi’s head falls back on his shoulders, attached only by her grasping hands. Leo clutches the open fabric of his uniform as she grinds, deeper, slower than Sanemi’s own growing heat can manage. The bulge of hakama catches the soft crease of her thighs– the tease of something warmer. He can’t force control back into his muscles. Sanemi crosses his arms around her waist and pulls Leo into his lap as he rolls against her.

Hot, desperate, the off kilter beat of her heart and all those small sounds she tries to keep quiet might as well send Sanemi straight to his grave. The smell of her will drown him, thick and sweet. When Leo finds purchase again in his hair he can only groan. He’s never— he doesn’t– Sanemi braces her hips with one hand and pulls her where it feels good, pushes, pulls, like a plea.

She clutches his other hand with her own trembling fingers and tucks it between the break of her robes. Sweat beads at her sternum. His eyes have gone wide and all the Wind Hashira can do is stare between Leo’s chest and the flex of her jaw as she opens and closes it in an attempt to stay quiet, eyes shut in concentration.

He clutches the breast Leo has led him to without stopping that guiding hand at the meat of her ass. Every brush of damp over his lap kicks his heart through his throat and he’s tracing the shape of her nipple before she can shut her mouth to keep her voice down.

“B-Baum–” she bites her lip and dips forward to kiss him again instead of finishing. Two hands on her ass, two hands cupping his face, if they keep grinding against one another he’ll– “Nem.”

“Le–” he attempts and succumbs to her kiss again. It’s wilder than before. Her hips have picked up rhythm and her tongue no longer asks before entering. She’ll swallow him. He’ll let her. It would be so easy– to just let his hands dig deeper. To slip under the folds of her robes and sink inside– lower her onto his–

“No!” Someone shrills behind them and Sanemi’s head jerks backwards, suddenly free of her lips, onto the floor with a start. Much to the Hashira’s rapidly approaching horror, Kanroji Mitsuri is standing in the doorway with a sizable chunk of the door frame broken off in her fist. Above him, Leo’s lips are drawn tight and she’s redder than a sunset. Her lips and jaw still glisten with saliva.

Mitsuri seems to have embarrassed herself even more with her outburst and looks rapidly between their lewd pile on the floor and the empty hallway. She squeaks with indecision and then storms inside. “Sanemi!” She huffs while pulling a stunned Leo from his grip and tossing her onto the bed, “Naughty! Not the time for love!” But mortification has frozen him to the floor. “This is a hospital.”

It’s all he can do to blink. Leo’s lilies ghost his swollen lips and her warmth still draws the sweat from his palms, which he keeps beside his head in shock or surrender until something ridiculous thaws the ice. Leo’s voice like wisteria echoes through the room in hiccups and laughter. Mitsuri’s as pink as her hair and everyone turns to stare but Leo laughs harder. There are tears in her eyes.

“Sanemi,” she gasps, “Up up, Baum!” and she clutches Mitsuri’s sleeve to keep her from moving. Sanemi’s on his feet at a dizzying speed and Leo speaks again from her golden and bandaged throne. He can only back away. “I will have you, Sanemi! Any way you’ll take me.” Her eyes shine like a great hungry garden, they hold back tears like a storm, “Don’t go where I can’t find you.”

As he scrambles from the room Mitsuri’s legs give out. The Love Hashira hits the mattress and he doesn’t catch a word that follows because Sanemi is diving headlong down the staircase– flying– in search of a hiding place. He hurdles Aoi and ignores the sound of his name, ignores the taste of her, down the entry hall, off the porch, and barefoot into Kocho’s garden. He kicks up her pristine sands and pebbles crunch where they should not and Sanemi crumbles in the first pool of shade.

He collapses under a maple tree. He bows over his knees and drops his head in its dirt. How? How a thousand things. Why? Why a handful fewer. Sanemi’s heart won’t survive this, worse than training, worse than death, what is this feeling? His fingers long to hold something over which he has no control. Foxglove trembles in a sunny breeze beside his head and then it whistles right through his ears, carrying scent of the flower with it.

Four years ago Kanae found him beside this exact bush trying his best to meditate in a limp wind. He’d seen her before, tall and docile. She had defended Ubuyashiki against his wrath at his first Hashira meeting and in his first Hashira hospital visit, she’d tucked a flower behind his grumpy ear.

“Why are you hiding?” Her voice was petal. “Would you like to be alone?” Sunshine, new moss. “Would you like to come with me?”

Sanemi smiles against the walkway stones and lets new tears fall. She knows exactly where he is. Leo will find him again.

[twistedtummies2]

The Price May Be Right - Number 13

Welcome to “The Price May Be Right!” I’m counting down My Top 31 Favorite Vincent Price Performances & Appearances! The countdown will cover movies, TV productions, and many more forms of media. Today we focus on Number 13: Dr. Phibes.

So, here’s a random fun fact for you Batman fans out there: apparently, this character was the inspiration for the version of Mr. Freeze that appeared in the seminal animated story, “Heart of Ice.” And, of course, that version of Mr. Freeze would become the inspiration for the character in nearly every other interpretation – both in and out of comics – to date. So, yeah, if you’re a Mr. Freeze fan, you can thank Egghead for it. :P ANYWAY…while Vincent did many, MANY horror movies – both serious and comedic alike – the one thing he never got was the chance to play a horror icon, so to speak. Which is to say, when you look at other great classic horror actors over the years, whatever else they do there’s always one specific character for whom they’ll always be remembered. For Christopher Lee and Bela Lugosi, it was Count Dracula; for Boris Karloff, it was Frankenstein’s Monster; even with more modern actors, like Roger L. Jackson and Robert Englund, they have specific horror roles (The Voice of Ghostface and Freddy Krueger, respectively) for which they will always be most chiefly recognized. Vincent never had that; he never got that recognition of having a specific, classic monster he could be identified with. The closest we ever got was that he was so well-known for his work with the stories of Edgar Allan Poe, but that’s a bit of a different issue. However, in the 1970s, Price DID get a chance to ATTEMPT such a feat, in two films that were part gruesome, gory nightmare fuel and part witty, satirical humor-fests: these were the Dr. Phibes films. The titular character was a deranged musical genius, who wore a mask to hide his hideous skull-like deformities – all elements taken from the timeless tale of “The Phantom of the Opera.” However, the story of the good doctor is rather different: Phibes’ descent into evil began when his beloved wife, Victoria, was stricken with some unholy medical condition. In order to save her life, a risky surgical operation was needed, which was so tricky it required the aid of no less than nine people to even hope for a success. Unfortunately, something went wrong with the operation; as soon as he got the news, Phibes hurried in the direction of the hospital…but was ironically caught in a terrible car crash, and apparently burned to death in the wreck. Husband and wife were then interred together. The rumors of Dr. Phibes’ death, however, were greatly exaggerated. Phibes miraculously survived the crash, and later rose from the grave hideously disfigured by the accident. He brought his wife with him, and kept her body imprisoned in a sarcophagus filled with honey and special fluids, so that her beauty would forever remain intact. In the first film, “The Abominable Dr. Phibes,” the mad maestro goes on a killing spree, attempting to get revenge on the nine people he blames for the death of his wife and the ruination of his existence. In the second film, “Dr. Phibes Rises Again,” the musical maniac returns, now seeking to resurrect his beloved bride. The Phibes films were a bizarre sort of pair. In a way, I sort of see these as the precursor to both the Scream films and the SAW movies. Like the former films, the movies combine elements of parodical dark comedy with real chills and gory, brutal death scenes. Phibes, himself, is treated as a serious and tragic character, and the fear factor is upped by his appearance. The mask he wears to hide his deformities is basically just Vincent’s face with some uncanny valley makeup added to enhance the effect, giving Price a particularly ghoulish appearance. This combined with the special voice box Phibes uses to speak after his accident – which causes Price to speak in a robotic, mechanical, droning sort of way that is both odd and genuinely unsettling – makes the character truly chilling. At the same time, however, he’s a sympathetic villain, as everything he does is in the name of his precious Victoria, and while one recognizes he is the bad guy of the story, it’s hard not to feel sorry for him and understand his motivations. The methods through which he offs his victims are pretty messed up even by today’s standards, too. In all, I would say most of the scares from the film come from Phibes himself. The humor generally is the result of the other characters around him, as well as some the intentionally contrived elements of the plot that are meant to satirize various horror movie tropes. I’m a little surprised there weren’t more films in the Phibes franchise; if there had been, maybe Vincent could have had that one iconic horror character to be recognized by…but, on the other hand, one of the things that made Vincent so fascinating was that he wasn’t someone who could fit into a singular mold, so to speak, and instead had MANY roles for which any given person could recognize him for most keenly. Dr. Phibes was ultimately just one of those parts, but it’s a part well worth remembering. Tomorrow, the countdown continues with Number 12!

[lavenderphoenix99]

wow. just wow.

this is why i'm sick of queer people creating yet another binary like "women and nonbinary vs non women" "women and nonmen vs cishet men" "trans and nonbinary vs cis"

SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!

like quick, tell me, you transmultiphobic person, what is the definition of nonbinary again? what is the definition of genderqueer again???

why do we, as a community, shove a group of people who identifies as something that is LITERALLY OUT OF THE BINARY, as one category, yet again!!!??

why do we, as a community, not understanding and learning more about people whose identities literally q u e e r s gender, and to think that maybe, just maybe, they can't and won't be ever be quantified within "basically cis" or "basically trans" in their gender, just for a DAMN second????

like, just, just, THIIIINK about it, what @/transmultiphobia-discussion just said (with some addition of mine) about why genderfluid people might not identify as trans, you transmultiphobe bitchass:

genderfluid people can be fluid between genders that are close to their assigned gender at birth, and they damn well are welcome to identify as cis, and they're no less genderfluid because of it

maybe a genderfluid person feels like their cisgender part of their identity wants to be acknowledged, and so they don't wholly ID as trans, and like, you should respect that actually??? to acknowledge the wholeness of a person's gender??? crazy shit!!

and then i'll go over the main shit show from that piece of damned shit of a transmultiphobic human being:

HOW FUCKING INFLATED YOUR DAMN EGO WAS WHEN YOU TYPED THAT??? """MY COMMUNITY"""???

NOT ONLY YOU'RE DEAD WRONG, BECAUSE YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY NOT THE ARBITER OF THE NONBINARY/GENDERQUEER COMMUNITY, ESPECIALLY WITH SUCH SHIT ASS ATTITUDE,

THERE IS LITERALLY NO OWNER OF NONBINARY/GENDERQUEER COMMUNITY, YOU'RE JUST BEING MASK-OFF GATEKEEPING, PEOPLE ARE LITERALLY BEING SHOVED OUT OF IT, THE SPACES THAT ARE SUPPOSEDLY ACCEPTING OF ANY AND ALL KINDS OF NONBINARY/GENDERQUEER PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!!

AND YOU KNOW DAMN FUCKING WELL, AS A NONBINARY PERSON YOURSELF, WHAT IT WOULD BRING TO US, IF WE WERE FORCIBLY EJECTED FROM OUR OWN COMMUNITY????

like... oh my goodness,

sorry not sorry for the extreme wording about this, but as an ambonec agender transmasc myself, i just can NOT stay silent about the erasure and ignorance about transmultiphobia issues anymore, i just CANNOT stand it when i see people erase one of my identity, erase my whole fucking transness, just because identify as a cisgender straight woman sometimes

i'm sick and tired of seeing me, and many many other people like me, treated as "JUST x" or "JUST y" not "x AND y" regarding our gender, and thus weaponize our multigenderedness against ourselves in order to feel good and... what? powerful? authoritative? inside your silly "safe spaces" (that are probably not safe in the first place)????

man, just... grow the fuck up. touch grass. go to a real life queer community event/spaces/communities, i promise there are people there who are being themselves and don't give a rat's ass about who is ackshually trans or who is ackshually cis, as long as they're being respectful there

anyways, OP, i hope you don't have to face those nasty ass gatekeeper again in your life, ever, and i suggest just swiftly block and report, if possible, people like those, and i'm sending you love <3 <3 <3 you're always welcome and supported here

and @transmultiphobia-discussion thank you SOOOOO DAMN MUCH for starting this discussion and bring our issues to light; the multigender/bigender/genderfluid/poly/pan/omnigender community are not going away anytime soon, we're here, we're queer, we won't be silenced anymore and we WILL fuck shit up if you dare mess with us

like the cool kids say: play stupid games, win stupid prizes

bye <3

(oh and btw, @transmultiphobia-discussion if you want me to take down this reblog because of the strongly worded response, please do tell me in the DMs! I understand if my words are making you uncomfortable)

I'm so pissed off right now

My mutual reblogs a post disrespecting genderfluid people who don't identify as trans. I'm not looking at the post so I might get some things wrong but the wording was approximately this:

"not all genderfluid people are trans" ...are you smoking crack? No one's AGAB is genderfluid. If you don't exclusively identify with your AGAB, you are trans. That's all the word means. By definition, all genderfluid people are trans. Stop being stupid.

Now, I'm not genderfluid, but I'm bigender so I share the multigender community and larger nonbinary/genderqueer community with them. I am also not trans. I'm isogender and I'm cisgender. I reblog with a long takedown of their claim, explaining why some genderfluid people (and why I, a person who doesn't exclusively identify with my AGAB) may not identify with being trans. I went over why personal identity matters more than the definition of transgender, that it's inclusive so people are welcomed into it if they wish to identify that way, but it's not an enforced identity. That they have to respect the identities of genderfluid, multigender, and nonbinary people who are not trans. I thought this person might just be meaning well but needing some opposition, but this bitch responds with (approximate wording again:)

So, just to be clear: You, a self-identified cisgender woman, come onto My (nonbinary and been out for 10 years) post about MY community to call me stupid for saying trans people are trans? Cool. #transphobia #enbyphobia #cis people shut the fuck up challenge

I just. That really showed their transmultiphobia. I am the gender that better suits their argument. The way they contrasted me being a cis woman with them being nonbinary, then calling it "MY community" very implicitly is degendering me, stripping me of my nonbinary/aporagender identity because it's easier to feign a point by saying I'm a cis woman, therefore an outsider who has no right to argue with them, a nonbinary person, on the topic. Also the fact they accepted my identity as a cisgender woman despite the fact their post that I replied to would have categorized me as transgender.

I am not a fucking outsider in the discussion! I don't identify as trans but that's irrelevant because the post wasn't about the trans community. It was about the nonbinary community. It was about the multigender community that I share with genderfluid people. IT WAS ABOUT NON-TRANS GENDERQUEER PEOPLE. MY COMMUNITY. NOT THEIRS. MINE. The post was blatantly disrespecting my identity, even if naming genderfluid people. I had every right to respond! I had every right to be in the discussion! I had every right to defend genderfluid people who might identify in the same way I do! Or the way *I* identify!

Clearly they didn't have a real response but they didn't want to read my response with an open mind. Didn't want to consider that there are non-trans genderqueer people. So I'm degendered, for the purpose of painting me as an outsider instead of acknowledging that I am a fellow genderqueer person who just doesn't identify as trans

classic example of "multigender people are whatever gender category that is most convenient to the person" folks!

jeez that makes me so angry. make a post about how all people like yourself are trans no matter how they actually describe themselves, and when you say something, suddenly you are, in fact, cis to them. may seem contradictory, but this happens to multigenders all the time. I've been called a predatory male, a confused trans man who won't fully accept is transness, and a cis woman invading trans spaces just by being a bigender lesbian. none of it is consistent nor makes any sense! but since I exist in multiple gendered categories, people refuse to accept them simultaneously and put me in whichever one fits their worldview. is convenient to their argument, by how much they like me and tolerate me.

and it is very telling that they view genderfluid as a gender in of itself, rather than a descriptor for someone's genders- the same way people go "multigender women/men aren't women/men, they're multigender!" The case of not seeing multigender people's identities as legitimate as monogender people's and having to settling for just "multigender," or else you're an invader or a predator to those monogender people. because if they did, it would make total sense why a genderfluid person might call themselves cis- some only switch between genders closely aligned to their assigned gender, for an example. like it's totally up to the person to describe their experiences with their gender identity and if cis more closely describes that than trans, even if they're not perfectly binary, that's fine!

I feel like messing with the cis/trans dichotomy and blurring the lines a bit is necessary is normalizing transhood and dismantling cisnormativity. like they're built off of the phenomenon of assigned gender at birth and forcibly assigned gender roles, "cis" being the default and "trans" considered divergent. if they're no longer assigned to people, is the gender binary is no longer relevant, then what significance would those terms really have anymore? if there is no "cis" or "trans," just people that exist as they please right from the get-go? isn't that what we want? why strictly enforce them onto anyone?

[bucky-barnes-diaries]

At The Club

The Falcon and The Winter Soldier

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Request from anon

Prompts: “The only way you're getting off is on my thigh.” & “I'm not going to touch you unless you beg.”

Summary: Bucky has you ride yourself on his thigh at the club.

Word Count: 945

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, minors DNI, public, thigh riding, sir!kink, praise!kink, mention of being high and drunk, cursing, language, mention of bodily fluids.

Authors Note: Sorry if there are mistakes! Enjoy loves <3

Main Masterlist || Bucky Barnes Masterlist

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Credit @ pedropcl for the wonderful gif

The thumping of the bass in the crowded club had your ears ringing. The alcohol in your system made you that much more touchy with your boyfriend as your hands roamed the entirety of him as the two of you sat at the dark VIP table.

The short dress you were wearing gave Bucky the access he needed for his hand to be placed inside your thigh. His thumb teasing the skin close to your core.

The couple of friends you had arrived with were occupying the dancefloor as they danced the night away, not paying attention to you and Bucky getting handsy with one another.

Out of nowhere, his strength lifted you onto him to straddle his jean-clad thigh. The feel of the rough material against the flimsy thong covering your core had you groan out on his ear, much to his amusement as the darkness of the club masked his smirk.

His lips were touching the shell of your ear. The breath of him fanning the side of your face had goosebumps and tingles travel down your spine.

“Since you seem so needy, kitten, why don’t you ride my thigh? Get the relief you so desperately crave, baby girl.”

You may have been a bit drunk, but your sanity was still present. “He-here? Won’t people see?” Eyes were dilated at his sinful proposal as you looked around.

“Don’t worry, doll. People are either too drunk or too high even to pay attention.”

He was right. People were too lost in their own word to pay attention, and besides, the constant pressure on your clit given by his thigh only increased your need to feel more.

Your hand sought out his to bring it down south into your panties, so he could touch you like only he knew how to, but that wasn’t part of his plan. His arms went behind him to rest on the back of the round sofa you two were sat at.

“No, no. The only way you’re getting off is on my thigh.”

Fuck. This man would be the death of you one of these days; you swear by it.

Wanting to feel some form of pleasure, you began with a steady pace over his jeans. The friction created by each drag of yourself on him felt amazing on your throbbing clit. It was even more enhanced with the liquor running through your veins and the atmosphere of the club: the colorful flashing lights now and again, the music, the powerful bass, and the darkness.

Fuck, this was so hot and exhilarating. To ride his thigh like the needed whore you were for everyone to see if they wanted.

You were quick to nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck. Moans and mewls were sounded against it as you were floating on cloud nine.

He wanted to watch as you fell apart before him. So he brought your face into his eyesight again before his arms returned to their place where they rested just a second ago.

“I want to watch you, kitten. Don’t hide from me. Holy fuck, you’re so beautiful like this, baby.”

The bite of his bottom lip indicated that he was enjoying his private show to the fullest. His needy little girl getting herself off on him in public. He looked so hot as he sat and watched you grind on him, like the dominant and powerful man he was.

“Please, Bucky. Please just touch me.” You begged as your hands played with the hair at the back of his neck. You just needed to feel his hands on you. If it was your breasts, your hips, grabbing your ass, or around your throat, it didn’t matter. All you just needed was his hands on you in some type of way.

“No. I’m not going to touch you unless you beg for me, sweet girl.”

He would let you touch him. Have your hands all over him if that’s what you desired. But him touching you? Not a chance. You would have to be good and do it all on your own until he felt like you deserved his touch. Until then, he would just watch and enjoy this little intimate show you were putting on for him.

The rapid pace of you riding his thigh had your orgasm just around the corner. But you needed his touch to let go. So you had no other choice than to beg for him.

“Please, Bucky. Please just touch me. Anything. Anywhere. I just need to feel your hands on me. Please, Sir.”

That what he needed to hear, his hands took a possessive grip on your thigh, increasing the pace of you on him, as the word Sir left your lips. A groan emitted from him at the name he had learned to love escaping from you.

“Cum for me. Now on my thigh, and then I’ll take you home to fuck your brains out.”

That was the only thing you needed, his words and his touch, to let yourself go on his jeans. You spasm on top of him as you came on his thigh in the crowded club. Your clit was throbbing, and it felt so sensitive but still good as you kept on riding him to extend the high. Moans and whimpers were heard only by him as the music was much too loud around.

You collapsed on top of him after having used up all your energy. His hand was caressing your back. A sign of praise that you did so well. “Good job, baby. C'mon. Let’s get you home, kitten. I’ll take care of you now as I promised.”

Credit @ firefly-graphics for the wonderful divider

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[daisiesandshakes]

Hi can I request jealousy headcanon for Isaac,Arthur,Mozart,comte please

Hi dear nonny! Thank you so much for your request 💖

Sorry it took so long, night shifts were exhausting...

Here you go, I hope you like it! 💝

(@ashavazesa , I'm tagging you, maybe you like it!)

Jealousy headcanons

for Isaac, Arthur, Mozart &

le Comte

Isaac

The shy, poor boy doesn't know what hits him, he wasn't prepared... It is the first time he's really in love and it is his first time being jealous.

He wouldn't talk about his feelings in the beginning, because he feels a bit ashamed about them. Additional he's not used to talk about feelings anyway, so he bottles up.

You recognize his strange behavior like avoiding your glare, his abrupt short answers (especially towards the male who causes the jealousy), but at first you can't figure out where it comes from. He would also act more possessive than usual, suddenly kiss you firmly in front of others or pulling you close.

Though he knows you love him truly, he's unsettled deep inside and needs your reassurance. You'll have to push him slightly to open up, to tell you what's on his mind. When he does...oh boy.

With glowing eyes and fervent words he'll beg you to SHOW him your love, pushing you onto the bed. Needy for your touch and your words of love, nothing remains from his shyness. He won't let you go the next hours, making sure you're really his.

"Isaac, please tell me what concerns you... did I something wrong?"

You're sitting next to him in his room on the edge of the bed.

"N- no... It's not that."

His behavior was oddly brusque today and you are really concerned.

With a sigh you overthink what happened all day and then something klicked. You spent a lot of time with Napoleon while he teached the kids. Could it be?  "Isaac, are you jealous?"

The vampire flinches and draws his gaze away from yours, a blush appears on his handsome face.

You cup his face, forcing him to look at you. Gazing deep into his beautiful cherryblossom eyes you ask "Isaac, you know that I love you, that my heart belongs only to you, don't you?"

"Y- yes. My head knows it, but..." suddenly he pushes you down.

"Show it to me." He whispers, his voice husky and deep, his eyes dark with passion before his lips captures yours in a fiery kiss, his fingers ripping your blouse open.

Mozart

Mozart is probably the worst with jealousy (besides Theo). He even can't stand the thought of another male being too close to you. It doesn't matter if it is another resident or a complete stranger, he is very possessive and you only belong to him. No other has the right to touch you.

If someone touches you by accident, his possession drives him to get rid of the foreign scent on you immediatly.

When it's a strange male (talking to him would be enough to drive him crazy), he would be broiling jealous, unable to express himself. Normally Mozart is very straight forward, but not when it comes to express his feelings for you. Blaming you for being too trustful, he would even start an argument.

But Mozart loves you so much, you're so precious to him, he'll regret his harsh spoken words soon and searches for a way to talk.

Admitting his jealousy, he shows you that there is only one way to calm him down. Claiming your body and mind he would train you to who you belong until the sun rises and your voice is hoarse.

"M- Mozart, what-" you gasp as he pulls you behind the thick curtains, sealing your lips with his. "You spent enough time with the other residents." He breathes hard as he pulls away. "Especially with Leonardo. I don't like his cigarello scent on you." Your eyes grow wide. "Wolf, are you jealous?"

A faint rose appears on his cheeks. "I don't want to be...But yes I am."

"But... You don't have to be jealous. I love you so much, Wolf. There is no room in my heart for another man."

"I know, meine Liebe. But it seems that my heart doesn't accept this truth fully." His radiant violet eyes pierces into your soul.

"What can I do to make you feel better, Wolf?"

A slight smirk plays at the corner of his lips as he leans forward. "Await me in the thermae. I'll make sure the only scent that remains on your body is mine, and obviously I'll have to remind you the next hours to who you belong." fervent spoken words next to your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

Arthur

He never felt jealousy before. Being a rotten flirt, Arthur is used to be the reason for that emotion, he never thought it could happen to him.

Trying to hide his feelings he'd cover them with playful words and actions. But when a male approaches you and gets too close, he won't think twice to make clear you are HIS girlfriend, holding you at your waist, whisking you away.

Deep inside Arthur has the feeling he doesn't deserve you, so he is afraid to loose you and gets easily jealous. He wouldn't like to admit it to you , worried he could scare you off.

But you are not able to overlook the pout and scowl on his handsome face or to overhear the truth hidden behind his joking words, irrelevant how much he tries to mask his feelings.

Arthur has a deep longing for your reassurance in words and body language, he needs your touch so bad, be prepared for exhausting, delightful hours between the sheets after he got jealous.

You are sitting on the couch in Arthur's room, rambling about your day with Vincent. Lately he gives you advices in painting techniques and you enjoy them, happy to make progress in your hobby. Arthur looks up from the papers with a smile, sitting at his desk.

"Darling, you sound really happy. I know you enjoy painting with Vincent, but are you sure you didn't decide secretly to leave your filthy boyfriend for this pure angel, Luv?" Arthur chuckles. For a split second a hurt expression appears in his loving gaze and his voice didn't sound as lighthearted as it should. You set your cup of coffee down with a surprised look on your face. "Are you jealous?"

A slight rose tints his cheeks as he pulls his gaze away.

You hurry over to him cupping his face and locking eyes. "Arthur, you are the only one for me. You are the love of my life, you know that, don't you?" Your thumbs caress his cheeks.

Arthur's big blue eyes waver at your words and he inhales deeply.

"You have no right to be this adorable" he whispers with a husky voice as he pulls you on his lap. Kissing your lips ardently his fingers already unbutton your blouse. "Say that again, luv" he smiles at your lips. "And then I'll make sure you won't ever forget that you are MY adorable girlfriend" he breathes at your skin as his lips travel from your jaw to the neck.

Le Comte

Comte seems to be always so calm and thoughtful, but when it comes up to you all this is nothing but dust in the wind. He waited for you and your love for centuries, now that you are his he's confronted with the deepest fear of loosing you.

Also he is insecure inside, thinking he doesn't deserve someone so precious like you (are you surprised?). This uncertainty is more fuel to the fire of the jealousy that rages in his heart.

Despite his always graceful and sublime conduct le Comte is very passionate and possessive. He can't bear another man touching you, even it is only your hair. On the other side he wants you to live freely, interacting with the other residents as usual. So he would get jealous real quick, but:

Wearing a mask of gentlemanly behavior and used to lock up his feelings you wouldn't notice his jealousy until it's "too late". Maybe it was only you and Leonardo in the library, sticking heads together and giggling about something. Maybe it was a stranger at the market, picking up an apple for you that dropped to the floor, holding your delicate hand while putting the apple into it.

When he corners you after that in his room, there'll be no escape. Le Comte will make sure that you're his, taking possession of your body and mind until there is nothing left but thinking of him and moaning his name. He will only stop when you pass out due to the overwhelming passion.

Le Comte cocks slightly an eyebrow due to the sight that is presented to him in the library. Arthur stands in front of the bookshelfs, carrying you bridal-style. "What happened?" he asks with honest concern. "Oh, our pretty dove wanted to spread her wings. I catched her as she fell from the ladder" Arthur replies lighthearted. "Luv, if you want my touch so bad, all you have to do is ask. You don't have to risk your health to get it" smirking he looks deep in your eyes. You feel your cheeks grow hot as you hit him at his shoulder. "Put me down, Arthur!" With a wry chuckle he lets you go, giving le Comte an amused sideways glance. "Okay, my performance as a hero is over, back to work then." With these words Arthur leaves the library and you exhale, looking concerned over to the pureblood. "You know that it was only an accident? I feel a bit embarrassed and.." Le Comte cuts you off, smiling gently.

"Ma cherie, don't worry. I understand what happened, everything is fine."

With a relieved smile you pick up the dropped books "I should have known, that something stupid like this doesn't concern you..."

You hear a sharp inhale and look up. His expression is serious, his eyes burn like melting gold in a furnace. Approaching you with slow, predatory steps he asks softly "When did I say I don't care?"

With a fluid move he pins you against the bookshelf, kissing you senseless. You both pant for air as he breaks the kiss. "I await you in my room. Now. Your chores are done for today." Comte leaves you with trembling legs.

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed it 💝

[bestiesenpai]

Area 51 - Nanami Kento

This is for @natsuonii’s creature feature collab! :) It’s got alien!reader, scientist Nanami and a whole lot of weird shit I’d say. Femme reader...there’s alien pussy lol 9.8K words

link to the collab!

Content warnings: sex pollen, alien heat, reverse knot, daddy kink, blood + needle(it’s brief I promise) and random medical terms and fake science shit lol don’t look too deeply at it

“This...this is the best scientific breakthrough we’ve ever had.” Nanami was at a loss for words, watching as decked out military men brought in case after case of wreckage from a shot down spacecraft. Working at a highly secure government facility sure did have it’s perks, and being one of the first people to know about all this was certainly the biggest one.

Nanami had spent so much of his life studying and clawing his way to the job he was at now. He’d sacrificed so much in the name of science, in the pursuit of finding extraterrestrial life forms no matter how small and insignificant, and it was finally paying off.

“Doctor, we’ll take the embryos to your lab.” One of the men said, quickly walking away tailed by people holding glowing blue cases. He hadn’t really been briefed on what all was coming in and what exactly happened to get it here, but he was sure he would find out soon enough.

“Careful!” Another person shouted and he was pushed out of the way. Coming in through the large steel doors was what looked like a four armed monster strapped face down to a flatbed. Markings went up and down his face and body and there were an extra set of eyes staring at everyone as it was wheeled by.

“What is that creature?” Nanami mumbled, clutching his clipboard tightly. The creature was breathing hard through its nose, nostrils flaring dangerously wide and a light growl rumbled from its chest.

“It appears to be the leader of the spacecraft, we could only get the creature's name, nothing else: Sukuna.” Someone answered him, but Nanami didn’t acknowledge, he was unable to take his eyes off Sukuna.

“Incredible.” His mouth hung open like a fool, unblinking as he watched Sukuna be wheeled past him and to the elevator shaft. “How far down are they taking him?”

“I heard the chief say as far as they could. He’s highly dangerous, it was a miracle the team was able to get the upper hand.”

“I’ll have to pay him a visit soon.” Nanami had enough security clearance to go anywhere in the building, but something was telling him he’d have to ask for a lot of permissions first before making contact with Sukuna. Nanami learned quite early on that the deeper underground you went, the more power you needed to be there.

Once the final bits and pieces were brought into the facility, Nanami peeled himself off the wall and made the way to his own lab. With his badge hung proudly from his shirt pocket, Nanami made the descent and as the elevator went floor after floor and the numbers got higher and higher, he let some excited exhales out.

Going down the metal corridor, he came to his lab to see it teeming with people. Nanami often worked alone on things and to see so many people milling about in his space made him a little nervous.

“Tell me about the embryos.” Was the first thing he said when he entered, donning the white lab coat he’d left hanging by the door. Walking over to the giant test tubes lining the back wall, he peered into one of the open cases.

Nestled inside atop a pile of hay were glowing blue orbs, some too bright to look at directly. They had a light blue smoke coming off, gradually spilling out the sides of the case and if he looked hard enough Nanami could just barely see the outline of a creature inside.

“They were on the spaceship Sukuna came in on. He was hellbent on protecting them, killing five of our people right off the bat.” The military man he’d spoken to earlier was here, answering right away.

“Were they in a case like this?” Donning a pair of gloves, Nanami picked one up. It was cool to the touch and quite heavy, making the muscles in his arm work harder than expected to stay upright.

“No, he had them suspended in some type of thick goop, like clear maple syrup.”

“How scientific, thank you.” He snorted, setting the embryo back down. “Do you have any of this ‘goop’ left?”

“Only this, sir.” Holding up a capped beaker filled halfway with the fluid, the man let out a defeated sigh. “Sukuna actually swallowed most of it, I guess trying to keep the embryos from us any way possible. This stuff is crazy acidic though, it’s melted almost everything it comes in contact with.”

“This should be enough…” Already making calculations in his head, Nanami took the beaker and walked to the control panel of the test tubes. “Load up the embryos and I’ll try to mimic the solution they were in. In the meantime, I’ll put one in that should be similar enough to keep them alive for a while.”

Pressing a few buttons on the panel, the test tubes began to fill with a murky pink liquid, filling the air with a pungent aroma. The embryos were loaded in quickly and the tubes sealed off. Watching them as he walked over to a table full of supplies, Nanami grinned slightly at watching them float.

It took him little time to come up with the properties of the amniotic fluid the embryos had been in. Making slight adjustments to the formula, he watched the liquid go from murky to clear, with only a light pink tinge left.

As the days wore on, Nanami studied the embryos intensely, opting to sleep in his lab instead of the barracks provided so he wouldn’t miss a single change should any occur. Going days without sleep, a week went by without any significant change.

A soft tapping on glass roused Nanami from an impromptu nap. Drawing his head up from where it was nestled in his arms on the metal table he was slumped over, he rubbed his face roughly and looked around.

“Who is it?” He called, assuming it was someone at the door. But when no answer came and the door wasn’t opened, he fully sat up and looked around. “Where the hell-” Cutting himself off as he looked at the test tubes, Nanami almost fell out of his stool.

In the seven test tubes lining the wall, there were three embryos that had come to term. He knew some would fail, resigning himself to the possibility that all of them would, but to see three newborn aliens was beyond his wildest expectations.

“Oh my god.” Snatching his clipboard off the table, Nanami rushed to the test tubes. He was writing furiously, capturing every single detail he saw about them and even making quick sketches of what they looked like.

There were little nubs right above their behinds, what looked to be the beginnings of a tail. All of them had two sets of eyes, unopened and tiny on their infantile faces, faces that were beginning to bear the same marks Sukuna had.

The tapping on the glass, Nanami quickly found out, was from them floating freely in the tubes, softly knocking against the glass as they hung suspended in the fluid. Nanami couldn’t see any kind of umbilical cord or method to get them the possible nutrients they needed to stay alive. So he just had to hope that they woke up soon to tell him what they needed.

The babies rapidly took shape after coming to term, morphing into a human-like form right before Nanami’s eyes. It seemed that with every couple of hours that passed they grew more and more. Fingers, webbed toes, tufts of hair and tails all appeared.

“So when do you think they’ll be able to come out?” His supervisor asked, nearly a month after the first encounter. The aliens under Nanami’s care looked like full fledged adults, ones that you could see out in public and - despite a few glaring differences - not pay any mind to.

“I don’t know, ma’am. I don’t know if they can survive out here.” In the month that passed, the facility wasn’t able to get any intel from Sukuna about the embryos or why he chose to come to Earth. All he did was snarl and growl, slurring a few death threats when he could.

“Take one out and see.”

“What?” Gasping loudly, Nanami’s eyes went wide. Surely his boss didn’t mean for him to sacrifice one of them? They were too precious of an asset to possibly let die like that and Nanami was ready to put his foot down.

“Don’t worry, doctor, Sukuna’s told us a bunch of times that more of his people will be coming, and I’m willing to bet they’ll have more embryos for us to study.” Giving him a swift pat on the back, his boss turned on her heel and started to walk away. “The usual assistants will be here to help you should you need anything and don’t feel bad if they all die, that’s just how these things go.”

The parting words were less than heartwarming. Letting out a rough sigh, Nanami turned to the team of people behind him. They worked with him before, most of them idolizing him with a gleam in their eyes.

“We’ll wheel in the examining table and take them out one by one. If there’s any adverse reactions, I’m sure we’ll be able to handle it. Get the usual supplies ready, we’ll start in ten.” Giving the group a curt nod, Nanami turned back to the test tubes. Pressing his hand onto the glass of one, he closed his eyes. “God, I really hope you all don’t die.”

In ten minutes, Nanami was dressed in full hazmat gear and so was his team. The crinkling of plastic suits was loud in the otherwise deathly silent room as everyone held their breath. Draining the fluid of the first tube, Nanami swung open the door.

“Let’s take a look.” Nanami said as the body was lifted onto the table. It had no external sex organs to speak of, not even a hole for a cloaca. Cool to the touch, Nanami waited for it to show any signs of life.

“It’s not moving.” Someone called out after five minutes, scribbling it down on the notes. They’d tried everything, strapping an oxygen mask over the face, chest compressions and returning the body back to the fluid it had previously been in, but it was no use.

“Take that away to Getou’s lab, he’ll dissect it.” Waving the first body away, Nanami looked up at the second. “We need to instill a gradual change in environment or else the same thing will happen.”

“Should we try to set up a feeding tube or an IV?”

“IV, yes.”

The second attempt went marginally better than the first. Slowly shifting the fluid to one of a normal human amniotic fluid seemed to work. The alien twitched and rocked side to side, seemingly waking up from its slumber.

Drawing it out from the tube, it appeared to be just fine. Gasping for air, fluttering eyelids and squirming limbs - all things Nanami wanted to see. What he didn’t want though, was for the creature to lash out with unexpectedly sharp claws, cutting through the sleeve of his suit and drawing blood.

“Holy shit!” Stumbling back, Nanami watched in horror as the creature licked the blood from its nails. Smacking its lips together, the creature pointed at him. It was rapidly losing the color in its cheeks, struggling to form whatever words it needed.

“Blood? Do you need human blood to survive on this planet?” Nanami shouted, scrambling away from the table he’d flung himself onto and holding out his arm. “Take it! Quickly!”

“Doctor no!” A few of his assistants tried to yank him away from the examining table. They didn’t want to see the blood get drained from his body or him possibly get eaten by the creature.

“Stop it, let me do this!” Struggling with them, Nanami watched in rapt horror as the creature nodded slowly before fully collapsing on the table, drawing it’s last shaky inhale before falling limp entirely. “You fucking idiots, we just lost another one!” Pushing the people away, Nanami banged his fist angrily on the table.

“Doctor, we couldn’t let you do something so dangerous! You’re the most valuable scientist here, we can’t lose you!”

“Bullshit! I don’t care if the next one wants to swallow me whole, you let it!” Glaring at all the people in the room, Nanami began to rip his gear off. “And if it dies for any reason, I’m going to make sure none of you ever find work again.”

With the threat hanging heavily in the air, Nanami stormed over to the control panel one last time, punching in the codes needed to change the fluid on the remaining test tube. His arm was slowly leaking blood and he could feel the warmth drip down to his hand.

“Get me an IV, I’m going to give this last one a blood transfusion.”

“Doctor, are you sure you-”

“If you question me one more time I’ll cut your tongue out. Now do as I say.” Pulling up a chair, Nanami sat down and leaned his head against the cold glass of the tube. None of this was going as he wanted; Nanami didn’t plan to lose two out of three creatures, nor to give blood to the last one.

Hooking up an IV, Nanami watched the blood drain from his arm, flowing up and into the top of the test tube where there was a needle inserted into the last alien. Trying not to get too woozy as he was drained of blood, Nanami pressed his forehead to the glass and squeezed his eyes shut.

“I don’t believe in you but God if you’re out there, please make this work.”

“Doctor?” He wasn’t sure when he passed out, but when Nanami came to, he had a crowd of people gawking at him.

“Yes? What?” The IV was out of his arm and there was a blanket over him and as he tried to get out of his chair he nearly fell.

“L-look behind you.” Pointing with a shaking finger, the assistant that woke him up turned him to face the test tube.

“Why do you all look so-” Turning around, Nanami stumbled back, for once grateful to have someone else in the lab to catch him. “Scared?” Whispering out the last word in a high pitched voice, Nanami couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

The once nondescript alien in the tube was now a fully fledged human being. With complete and fairly dark markings on their face, breasts and a vagina, the creature before him could be mistaken for any other adult.

And the thing that was most shocking was the way all four eyes honed in on Nanami, tracking his every move. Pressing it’s forehead and hands to the glass, the creature turned as Nanami walked side to side.

“It’s been watching you since you passed out.”

“How long has it been like that?” He asked, getting closer to the test tube.

“It just suddenly changed shortly after you lost consciousness. A flash of light went off and poof, it looked like that.” Pressing his hand to the glass, Nanami let out a breathless laugh as the creature scurried back only to return in mere seconds.

“Open the tube, we have to let it out.” Unable to take his eyes off the creature, Nanami could hardly wait for all the fluid to be drained before opening up the test tube and helping the creature out. Surprisingly steady on its feet, Nanami barely had to help it stand upright.

“Hello.” He smiled, shrugging off his lab coat and placing it over its shoulders. “Welcome to Earth.”

“Hello.” You said back, attempting to smile as well. “Welcome to Earth.”

When Nanami first got the embryos, he wasn’t expecting anything to come out of them. The most he thought would happen was possible growth but never any of them coming to term and certainly never of them to actually be able to communicate.

It appears you were destined to prove him wrong, however. Nearly the moment you stepped out of the test tube, dripping in fluid and with a long tail you couldn’t quite control, you exceeded all of Nanami’s expectations - not that he even had any to begin with, especially not when it came to taking you out of the tube.

The first hour, you were sitting perfectly still while the team ran tests on you. Pressing a cold stethoscope to your chest, a few of them got a giggle out of the way you gasped and squirmed. Nanami watched it all happen, taking calculated notes and even doing some of the tests himself.

“What’s your name?” He questioned after another hour of hearing you repeat the phrases around you. Staring at him from the stool you were perched on, you tilted your head. It was only you and him left in the lab now, he sent everyone else away, wanting a chance to study you on his own.

“What’s your name?” You parroted back, mimicking the way Nanami had his arms crossed over his chest.

“My name is Nanami Kento. What’s yours?”

“Nanami Kento.” He made a disgruntled sound in the back of his throat, rolling his eyes at the giggle you let out. He understood he was dealing with an alien, one that might never be able to fully communicate the way he desired, but he wanted to get somewhere.

“What’ll it take for you to stop copying me?”

“Reading a book.” He’d meant it as a rhetorical question, and hearing your voice form a stilted sentence all on it’s own was a big surprise. Nodding curtly, Nanami walked over to a set of bookcases and grabbed a thick dictionary and a thesaurus, placing them onto the table next to you. Flipping open the first page of the dictionary, Nanami pointed at the words.

“Can you read these?”

“Mhmm!” Leaning over, your eyes scanned the script.

“Good, read all of it and tell me when you’re done.” Setting up a chair on the other side of the table, Nanami fixed a pile of notes and other documents he needed to work over. He could take time to catch up his reports while you-

“Done!” Slamming the dictionary closed, you picked up the thesaurus. “I have to read this too?”

“Y-yes.” Nanami’s mouth hung open slightly as he watched you speed through the second book. He expected this whole process to take an hour at least but you were done with both books in just a few minutes.

“All finished.” You were still a little unsure of forming sentences, lifting your voice in slight question at the end.

“How did you do that so fast?”

“When Mother made us, she gave us all the information she could on this planet, including rudimentary language. I just needed a way to conceptualize actually speaking on my own.”

“Who’s Mother?” Grabbing his pen, Nanami began to scribble down what you were saying.

“Mother is the one that made us. All of us, me, my companions, and Sukuna too.”

“Right…” Nanami’s hand hesitated at the mention of Sukuna, drawing inky swirls in place of words. “Then Mother is the one who sent you here with him?”

“Yes! She said that to take over this planet, we would need to assimilate to the environment and that we’d need a strong warrior to protect us.” You had a dreamy look in your eyes, no doubt thinking about Sukuna. “So far I like this-”

“Hold on, take over the planet?”

“It’s what my people do: we come to a planet, impregnate the population and take over.” He was sure there was more to it than that but for his own peace of mind Nanami didn’t question it further. For now, he wanted to focus on the positives, mainly the one of you finally speaking on your own.

“So…” Nanami struggled to find the next topic of conversation.

“Oh, I remember my name now! It’s (Y/N).”

“Did Mother also give you that name?”

“She did!” You truly looked overjoyed to be talking about all this. The smile on your face led to Nanami being able to see the sharp canine teeth in your mouth, akin to a set of teeth he’d find in a vampire movie.

“So (Y/N), I have a question. I gave you my blood so you’d be able to live on this planet.” He paused to make sure you were following along. “I want to know why you’re a female when you received male donor blood.”

“Mother determined which gender would be useful for me to have on this planet, so all I needed was your DNA to complete the transformation and become a human.”

“Mother thinks humans have those extra eyes and a tail?” Nanami snorted at that, there were too many things to give away your unhuman origins that couldn’t be ignored.

“Sukuna is supposed to teach us how to hide them until we need them.” Your shoulders visibly slumped and you looked around. “Where is he? He was supposed to be here when we woke up.”

“He’s somewhere else-”

“Where? Where is he?” Putting both palms flat on the table, you leaned forward. You seemed desperate, your brows scrunching together as you worried your lip. “I can tell he’s close, but where is he exactly?”

Nanami heard what you said. He knew exactly the words that were spoken and their meaning. But he was having a hard time thinking of anything as he suddenly became aware again of the fact that you were still naked, the lab coat you had on falling open to reveal your breasts.

“How about we talk about that while you get dressed in something more appropriate?” Clearing his throat roughly, Nanami pushed away from the table. His cheeks were getting a bit warm and he didn’t want you to see.

“No, tell me where Sukuna is!” Slapping your hands loudly on the table, you glared sharply at Nanami when he tried to come closer. “I don’t want to be alone any longer! My companions didn’t make it, he’s all I have!”

“(Y/N)...” Sighing softly, Nanami didn’t know what to do. If he tried to raise his hand, you growled at him, flexing your fingers as if you were going to strike him. He couldn’t tell you where Sukuna was, no matter what. “You’re- you’re not alone.”

“What do you mean?” Your face softened just a fraction, and you leaned back as Nanami lifted his hand slowly, placing it on the table near your own hand.

“You have me.” Nanami felt something odd twisting his stomach, something that told him this simultaneously was a good and bad idea. It wasn’t wise to say this to you, to try and build some kind of relationship beyond a scientist and his test subject, but what did he have to lose? You were the first alien he’d ever come in contact with, there were bound to be some risks he’d have to take to keep you happy.

“Really?” Relaxing your body, you let your hand get closer to Nanami’s.

“Really.” Fully grabbing your hand now, Nanami tugged you from the stool, craning his head away to avoid looking at your open chest. “Now follow me, I think there’s some scrubs in one of these drawers.”

“Nanami, I’m hungry.” After finding you a set of clothes buried in a drawer and cutting a hole in the bottoms for your tail, Nanami was greeted with the sound of your growling stomach.

“What do you eat?”

“Whatever you eat.” Taking up residence on the singular fold out couch Nanami used to sleep on, you watched him pick up the phone on his desk.

“Let’s have some pasta then.”

While Nanami preferred to cook his food himself rather than ordering it from upstairs, he didn’t have the heart to tell you that the cafeteria food was less than ideal. You seemed to love the dish he gave you, eating it with no hesitation and a smile on your face.

“Is there anything else you can tell me about your kind?” Picking over his food, Nanami watched you finish eating in record time and pushed his plate over to you.

“Like what?” Tilting your head to the side, you gladly took his food.

“Anything that comes to mind like cultural things, maybe you celebrate holidays?”

“We do! I was created to leave the planet, but others get to stay and cultivate life there. We have something close to what you call Christmas and others for things you wouldn’t understand.”

“Really? You’ll have to write them down for me later.” Nodding to himself, he made the mental note to teach you how to write. Glancing down at the two now empty plates before you, Nanami flicked his head toward the phone. “Fancy some more?”

As it reached midnight, Nanami became starkly aware of the fact there was only one place for the both of you to sleep. He wasn’t sure how much sleep you actually needed or if you needed any at all for that matter, but he knew for sure that sleeping on the same fold out mattress with you would be crossing a line he wasn’t ready for. It was already too short to hold his entire frame, and putting two bodies side by side wouldn’t be a good idea.

“(Y/N), are you tired?” Standing up from the couch, he motioned for you to stand as well.

“Yes.” Your voice was chipper as ever, not a hint of exhaustion heard. You watched with rapt interest as Nanami unfolded the mattress and set it on the ground.

“Alright, well you’ll be sleeping here and I’ll be sleeping in the barracks.”

“I’m going to be alone?”

“Is that a problem?” Quirking a brow, Nanami glanced at you.

“Well not necessarily but I- I don’t want to be alone. Not on my first night, at least.” Curling your tail on the ground, you worried your fingers, claws clicking together as you did. Nanami could feel his resolve wearing down, the nervous look you tried to hide made his fingers flex; he felt an overarching urge to protect you.

“I’ll grab another couch from the lab next door.” Turning on his heel, Nanami took deep breaths as he left the room. Forcing his head to get clear, he drug another couch into his lab, setting it up across from the first one.

“Is this what you call a sleepover?” You asked, watching Nanami set up both couches with blankets and pillows.

“You could say that, yes.” A strange giggle left your mouth and it made Nanami pause and look at you. “What was that sound?”

“A laugh?” Dropping your face in confusion, you looked him straight in the eye. “Is something wrong?”

“No no it’s just-” clearing his throat loudly, Nanami rushed out the next words, “That was the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.” At his admittance, you giggled again and he had to bite his lip hard from audibly swooning.

“Mother made it special for me, she makes all her children special.” Mimicking the way Nanami climbed into bed, you laid down and stared at the dark ceiling. “Only some of us can laugh like that, and others have pheromones and what not to attract the native people on a new planet.”

“(Y/N), do you have special pheromones too?” Your casual mention of impregnating and taking over the whole planet flashed in his head.

“I think I do, why else would you have agreed to stay here with me?”

“Good to know.” Nanami would have to install a high tech air filter later, he didn’t like the idea of slowly succumbing to your desires. Fully laying down in bed, he drew the blankets up to his chin and tried not to think of it anymore. “Good night.”

For a month Nanami studied you nonstop. Gathering medical information, he discovered you had three stomachs and two hearts. Through plenty of trial and error you learned how to keep the swinging of your tail under control and not trip him anymore. He even learned your favorite foods and the relative location of your home planet in the galaxy.

When Nanami had to step out for meetings, he begrudgingly let fellow scientist Gojo watch over you. The best in his field and horribly obnoxious about it, Nanami tried to limit the time you two spent together. He didn’t need Gojo influencing you too much and ruining the work Nanami had put into acclimating you to society in an appropriate way.

“You’re back!” It was like he was coming home from work whenever you greeted him like that. You bounded over to the door from wherever you were and bounced on your toes, eager to talk to him about what he’d done while away.

“Mhmm. How’s it been with Gojo?” Nanami glanced up at said man, not liking the fact that he was lounging on the couch with his laptop perched precariously on his thigh.

“It’s great! He showed me something really interesting.” A shy giggle left your lips and you avoided further eye contact with Nanami.

“What is it?” Narrowing his eyes, Nanami began to glower at Gojo, who started to shrink under his gaze.

“(Y/N), don’t you have something to say first?” Gojo smirked, barely hiding a chuckle behind his hand.

“Oh, you’re right!” Squaring your shoulders at Nanami, you took a deep breath. “Welcome back, daddy!” Taking a brief glance at Gojo, you cupped your cheeks and stuck your tongue out, crossing your eyes for extra measure.

“W-what the fuck!” Scrambling back in shock, Nanami glared sharply at Gojo as a harsh red flush coated his cheeks. He was ashamed to admit he’d seen that face before, late at night when he was too restless to sleep and needed something to help soothe his mind.

“What’s wrong, Kento? Do you not like what (Y/N)’s doin’?” The dark chuckle behind Gojo’s words had Nanami wanting to throttle him. Of course he liked it, he was a grown man wasn’t he? Not to mention Nanami couldn’t remember the last time he’d laid down with another warm body like that and the face you were making was bringing several repressed thoughts to the surface.

Unable to form the proper words, Nanami side stepped you and went to his desk, placing files down that needed to be typed out later and trying to still his rapid heartbeat. The way you said that sentence so enthusiastically, saliva making your tongue glisten in the light - it was too much for him to deal with so abruptly.

“Why’d you teach her that shit?” Nanami growled, covering the lower half of his face with his trembling hand.

“(Y/N) deserves to know all aspects of human life, wouldn’t you agree?” Closing his laptop, Gojo stood up and walked to the door. “Besides Kento, I know you get lonely at night.” Smiling sweetly at you, Gojo left the room without any further comment.

“(Y/N).” With his back still facing you, Nanami heaved a sigh.

“Yes?” You said slowly, relaxing your body. The tension rolled off Nanami in waves, making the air thick and uncomfortable. It was hard to read whether he was angry or not.

“What has Gojo been teaching you?” The subtle sag in his shoulders isn’t missed by you, making you scramble to the desk and face him.

“I don’t know! He said there were some interesting things you’d yet to show me and he pulled up some websites and- and-” A bit of fear spiked in your head. You’d only gone along with what Gojo said was right, Nanami had entrusted you to his care after all and your whole reason for being on the planet was to assimilate. “Are you mad at me?” Rubbing at your four eyes to stem a sudden wave of anxious tears, you looked at Nanami, waiting nervously for his answer.

“Not at you. Him.” Sensing your oncoming distraught, Nanami shook his head and cleared his throat. “I want you to learn all the good things of human life and well-”

“Sex isn’t a good thing?” You gasped, leaning your hands on the desk.

“Did he teach you about sex?” Nanami nearly yelled back.

“He did! We read a lot of medical journals about it, it releases so many good chemicals into the human brain! And then Gojo went to this website called PornHub and-”

“He what?!” A heart attack. Nanami was going to have a heart attack.

“Let me finish! He showed me humans having sex and it looked like they were having a great time!” Your breath was coming out short and Nanami could hear the drag of your tail on the ground as you got worked up. “But it didn’t do anything to me, I haven’t reached that point yet!” He didn’t understand what you meant and while the urge to drown himself in the bottle of dark liquor he kept hidden away tugged at him, his pursuit for knowledge was greater.

“What do you mean you ‘haven’t reached that point yet’?” Collapsing into the desk chair, Nanami was more worked up than he thought. The shock of hearing you call him daddy, learning that you discovered what sex was and now he was going to know when you would begin to show interest in such a thing.

“Sexual maturity, I’m not there yet, so seeing that stuff didn’t do anything to me.”

“When will you be?” He pressed, grabbing a pen and getting ready to write down whatever you said on the corner of a file.

“It’s been a month since I’ve transformed, so in about a week or two.”

“That fast?” Nanami blanched, mind spinning at how he was going to deal with that. “Humans take years, though, shouldn’t my blood affect that?”

“No, my DNA only takes what it needs from yours. My base mechanics like lifespan and in this case sexual maturity are all hardwired by Mother. They won’t change just because a few drops of your blood mix in.”

“So...so what does that mean for you? Do you need some kind of special uh- a special thing or-?” His cheeks and ears burned fiercely and Nanami cleared his throat in the middle of the sentence. He knew exactly what he meant by ‘a special thing’ but he couldn’t bring himself to say it in front of you.

“I don’t know, actually.” Shrugging your shoulders, you sat on the edge of his desk. “Sukuna is supposed to tell me what happens and what to do after we pick out a suitable mate for me.”

There was that mention of Sukuna again. The creature buried so far underground some people wondered if he was passing the Earth's mantle. He’d settled down in the month since your arrival, seemingly knowing that you had emerged from the embryo and survived. He still refused to give any answers and you hadn’t mentioned him in nearly three weeks.

“You don’t need him. We can figure it out once it gets here.” Shaking his head, Nanami could feel himself getting a little high off your pheromones with you sitting so close. The air filter he put into the room could only do so much when your scent rolled off in such thick waves.

“Okay.” Sighing the word, you resigned yourself to playing with your fingers. Silence washed over the room, less tense than before but still tainted with an edge to it. Both of you were flushed from talking about this subject and Nanami was glad you had your back to him.

“(Y/N), I have another question.” A few minutes later, Nanami couldn’t hold back the question burning in his mind. You let out a hum of acknowledgement but didn’t face him. “What would be a suitable mate for you? What kind of human?”

He blamed it on your pheromones, he blamed every last less than professional thought in his head on your pheromones and what you did to him and he especially blamed Gojo for forcing this topic of conversation to come up. Nanami tried to reason with himself, put the narrative in his head that he wanted to know for science, but in the dark recesses of his mind Nanami wanted to know who your type was if you even had one.

“Well actually, a human like you is perfect.” Your back curved just a little to keep your face hidden as you spoke. The words hung in the air, leaving Nanami’s mouth hanging slightly open and his mind bouncing to a hundred different places at once.

“Like me?” He whispered, barely registering the words coming out of his mouth.

“Exactly like you.” This time you looked over your shoulder at him, your eyes narrowing as you took in his reaction. His shock seemed to be enough for you, your secondary eyes pinching closed as you smiled, and you turned back to face forward. “Nanami, I’m hungry.”

Having grown accustomed to your new home, you slid off the desk and to the couch that was yours. Nanami’s eyes were glued to your back, watching the way your tail moved on the ground as you walked. His throat was suddenly thick, there were plenty of things he wanted to say, things that would definitely violate his code of ethics.

“Nanami.” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, back to reality where you were far away from arms reach. The weight of your eyes bore right back into him and Nanami knew he’d been caught staring.

“Yes?” He forced the word out, his tongue feeling heavy and foreign in his mouth.

“Should we have pasta tonight?”

Nanami hardly slept at all that night, plagued with ideas of what you thought about him and less than savory images of you and your body. Shame settled over him like a second blanket as he tossed and turned throughout the night, trying to rid his mind of such things to no avail.

In the morning, Nanami got rid of the second couch and made the decision to sleep in the barracks when he needed to. While nothing inherently sexual had occurred, he still felt like he betrayed some sort of trust between you two, sullied the pure relationship you had together.

Ignoring your whines and protests, he also made the decision to get rid of Gojo as your babysitter. He didn’t want or need your mind filled with things he didn’t deem appropriate and Gojo was the main perpetrator of such things, and he was confident enough that he could leave you alone for a few hours and nothing bad would happen.

It almost hurts to leave you alone at night, the old ritual of slowly nudging you along your night time routine and laying down on adjacent mattresses was now replaced by getting you ready for bed but then leaving shortly after you were all tucked in. Sometimes you whined and wanted him to stay, claiming that you didn’t sleep as well without him there, and sometimes Nanami hesitated at the door before steeling his resolve and leaving.

He doubts he’ll ever tell you that he stopped sleeping as well too.

An abrupt evening meeting three weeks later called him away from you sooner than either of you would have liked. You’d developed a cough and a bit of a rash over the course of time and while Nanami was sure this meant you were reaching sexual maturity, he was still hell bent on finding some medicine to help you, not wanting to go to this meeting about another potential UFO sighting.

“(Y/N), I’m back and I-” Nanami all but ran back to his laboratory with some medicine he’d swiped from Gojo. He was worried for you, not just as a scientist but as a friend. Throwing open the door and locking it quickly to contain any possible airborne particles, Nanami was assaulted with the harsh smell of something sweetly floral.

“N-nanami!” His eyes immediately find you, writhing in what looks like agony on the mattress he’d pulled out for you before leaving. Walking quickly over to you, every inhale he made felt like he was breathing in a thick fog.

“Wh-what’s wrong?” Coughing and putting a hand over his face, he looked over you. It was normal for you to just wear a long, oversized t-shirt Gojo got you from a local thrift store to sleep and right now it was clinging tightly to your body from the sweat pouring out of you.

“Nanami!” Shaking your head side to side, he could see the tears leaking out of your eyes. Against his better judgement, Nanami crouched down on one knee and put a hand on your forehead.

“Shit, you’re burning up.” Pulling his fingers away, there was a light yellow powdery film left on them. “(Y/N) what is this? Has it started?” The substance tingled on his fingers, making them go slightly numb.

There was a pitiful noise from you as a response and a limp nod, and Nanami rushed to the sink to wash off his hands. The scent in the room was overwhelming, almost choking him with every inhale he made. Turning the ventilation system on as high as it could go did nothing and there was still pollen visibly floating in the air.

“I have to go, I can’t be here.”

“No!” You cried, falling out of bed with a loud thump and crawling toward Nanami. “D-don’t leave!”

“I have to, this stuff isn’t good for me.” Nanami kept his back to you, hastily trying to grab some things from his desk. His cock was already beginning to stiffen painfully and the sounds you were making were echoing inside his head.

“Wait!” Tugging on his pant leg, you dug your claws into it.

“(Y/N), let go.” He tried to shake you off, staunchly avoiding eye contact. The heat on his skin was rising and if Nanami were to look in a mirror he would see how red he was. You refused to let go, sitting up on weak knees and pushing your hand further up his leg.

“D-daddy, please! Help me!”

That was it. That was the moment that broke Nanami Kento. He knows Gojo has told you that he likes to be called that in bed, among other things. He knows that the pollen in the air is what’s making his head impossibly foggy with only one thing able to be focused on. Nanami knows that if he stays here any longer, he’ll do something that he won’t regret, but that might cost him his job.

“Daddy…” Emboldened by unbridled desperation, you force Nanami to face you with strength he didn’t know you possessed. Eye to eye with his cock straining against his slacks, you shove your face right into it.

“(Y/N)!” Your name comes out as a rough groan from his lips and Nanami’s hands fly to grab the back of your head. As he grips your head, Nanami makes no move to pull you away and doesn’t stop you from rubbing your face along his clothed cock.

“Please please please, just this once! I need to do this-” The pleading you're doing is muffled by your mouth running along fabric, words slurred and barely coming out properly. Just from this stimulation alone Nanami can feel his balls tighten like he’s about to cum.

“Sto-stop, stop this.” Nanami’s own sense of morals, his will to do anything besides being in this room with you was going to be torn to shreds the longer you touched him. And it was, as he came in his pants, rutting his hips like a pathetic teenager into your face.

He came but his cock was still as hard as before, maybe even more so. There was no reprieve from the painful need to be stimulated, to feel you touch him again and again and again. With a mangled groan, he shoves your head away and grabs his waistband.

Swatting your hands away that still rest on his hips, Nanami undoes his belt and shoves his pants and underwear down to the ground. His cock slaps against his dress shirt, glistening from the previous load of cum and leaking more like he’s never seen before.

“What did you do to me?” He asks under his breath, feeling sweat pooling on his skin despite being half naked. As he takes off his remaining clothes, Nanami can feel the tingle from the pollen settling all over him, sticking to his hair and to every crevice of his body.

“D’ya like it, daddy? That’s what M-mother chose for me, it’s a new- a new evolution we got from a previous planet.” It’s amazing that you can stand on your own feet despite the way your legs shake violently. Nanami can tell you’re in a sorry state, so he lets you lead him to the mattress and fall back onto it.

“Mother made you pollen? How interesting.” Somewhere far back in his head, he really did find it genuinely interesting. But right now he was merely making conversation, settling on the bed as you climbed on top of him and took your wet shirt off.

The rash that had been on your skin was now turning into powdery pollen before his very eyes, falling off and into the air like a flower's pollen would. Laying down on Nanami, pressing your breasts against his chest, you fell into a kiss with him.

Even though it was your first kiss, Nanami was the one left feeling inexperienced as you slotted your mouths together and slid your tongue past his lips. Even your saliva was sweet as it dripped it into his mouth and down the sides. Nanami’s hands roamed your body, pinching into your sides and squeezing your ass painfully tight. Surprisingly, your tail didn’t get in the way, just languidly swaying side to side and sometimes tickling his shins.

“Daddy, please- I want more!” You whined loudly, breaking the kiss to trail your lips along his neck and chest and nip at the skin every so often.

“Tell me. Tell- tell daddy what you want.” There was the slightest hesitation, a tiny tinge of shame for doing this with you that got washed away as quickly as it came up by your wet cunt sliding against his cock.

“I want you inside me.” Wrapping your fingers around his cock, you stroked it slowly, unable to focus on putting it in and kissing him at the same time. Giving up with a grunt, you settled for rubbing your cunt along his shaft.

“Shit, roll over.” Flipping you with ease, Nanami grabs onto your thighs and holds them apart. Staring down at your cunt, it looks just like any other human sex organ, giving Nanami some peace of mind that he wouldn’t need to do anything too complicated to make you feel good.

You whine again when he doesn’t immediately push himself balls deep into you, instead laying on his stomach and giving your inner thighs kisses. Nanami grabs your hands, silently telling you to hold your legs apart as he delves in deeper.

One lick up your slit and you fall apart so easily, gushing around his mouth so much Nanami is sure you just had an orgasm. Greedily drinking it up, Nanami can attest that this is the best thing he’s ever tasted. Burying his face into your heat, he can’t keep his tongue in one place for too long, torn between pushing it deep inside you and licking at your swollen clit.

You’ve given up holding your legs open a while ago. As Nanami sucked on your clit, your thighs clamped down around his head and your fingers threaded through his hair. The feeling of his mouth on you was the best you’d ever experienced in your short time being alive and it was one you’d think about forever.

“Oh my- daddy, I-” Your eyes were closed so tightly you were seeing stars and you were sure Nanami couldn’t breathe anymore from how tightly you squeezed him as you came. His head thrashed side to side, tongue swiping all along your sex and inner thighs to catch all of your release.

“This is the best scientific breakthrough we’ve ever had.” Wrenching his head away before he passed out, Nanami laid limply on the bed. As the words left his mouth he remembered all those weeks ago now when you first came to him as just a tiny, glowing embryo. He never would have been able to imagine that you’d be here, turning him to lay on his back and crawling between his legs.

Grabbing the base of his cock firmly, you gave one lick to the tip before engulfing it fully in your mouth. Nanami’s back arched high off the bed in shock, surprised at the lack of hesitation from you and how easily he hit the back of your throat.

“S-slow down a little.” He panted, trying to cup your face and get you to look at him. Swatting his hand away, you let your tongue loll in your mouth as you sucked him off, easily planting your nose on his lower stomach and swallowing around him.

It must have been the pollen in the air to make him cum so quickly, Nanami reasoned with a harsh blush on his face. That was the only explanation for why he was currently spilling a thick load of cum down your throat in less than two minutes of you sucking him off.

“You taste so good, daddy.” Pulling off his cock, you licked the sides and down to his balls, gently sucking one into your mouth and looking up at him. Despite just cumming, Nanami felt another orgasm wash over him and another wave of cum came out, dribbling down the sides of his cock and onto your face.

Slapping a hand over his face, Nanami let out a few moans he’d been holding back. There was no way he would ever be able to look at you the same way after seeing your face covered in his seed.

“C’mere.” Stopping you from your current ministrations, he pulled you to lay over top of him again. Grabbing your sweaty shirt from the ground, he wiped the cum off your face, kissing your skin after he wiped it clean.

“Daddy, will you put it in already?” You cried, smacking your ass against his thighs angrily.

“Be patient, baby.” Petting down your back, Nanami shushed you, giving your ass a quick pinch before gripping the base of his cock. Keeping a hand on your hip to keep you steady, he helped you sink down on his cock, easily all the way to the hilt.

Digging your claws into his chest, you let out a loud howl. Finally you were getting what you really needed, the feeling of Nanami’s cock hugged tightly by your cunt spreading a warm feeling throughout your body.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He hissed as you dragged your hips upward and back down again. Sure he’d been with other women before but none like this. Your cunt squeezed him incredibly tight, making it impossible for him to do anything other than lay back and let you move however you saw fit.

You weren’t shy in your motions either, riding his cock with a dizzying confidence and nearly fumbling down into a heap of loud moans on more than one occasion. Even with all the prep before your arrival to the planet and research you’d done about sex and the human experience, nothing could have prepared you for how good it actually felt during your heat.

Nanami was sure everyone within the compound could hear what was going on in the room, your noises were as loud as they’d ever been. The sound was as beautiful as when you laughed, hypnotizing him further into compliance.

“Shit!” He cursed harshly, nails digging into the flesh of your hips as he came. As his orgasm came over him, Nanami got no break from the pleasurable waves washing over him because you refused to stop.

“More, more!” You panted, working even harder to get him to cum again. With the added vigor, more pollen released into the air and Nanami breathed in a deep mouthful. Snaking an arm around your back, Nanami rolled you over, acting on pure instinct as he pushed and pulled your body into a mating press.

“You’re so- so demanding, baby.” The pet name came without thinking, not that Nanami was doing a whole lot as he pounded the full length of his cock into you. He wasn’t sure you could hear him, even while being face to face like this. There were too many sounds in the room, the moans that left both of you freely, the wet slapping of skin against skin and the creak of the old mattress springs.

“Please, give it all to me!” Throwing your head back, your cunt spasmed around Nanami’s cock for the umpteenth time, making another gush of your release coat everything within its reach.

Nanami was sure you’d have bruises later from how hard he gripped you but right now he couldn’t find it in him to care. The only thing on his mind was fucking you so hard you stopped babbling and crying like a baby for more of him. He wanted to give you all that he had and more until he himself collapsed as well.

Pushing a hand between your bodies, when he touched your clit Nanami briefly went deaf, unprepared for the incredibly high pitched moan that left your lips. His ears were ringing fiercely but he kept going, refusing to take his eyes off the way your mouth fell open as he rubbed your clit in quick circles.

“H-how many- how many times have you cum?” He gasped, feeling the very beginnings of a burn in his thighs.

“Not enough, it’s not enough.” Thrashing your head against the mattress, you wound your arms around his shoulders. “I need more, daddy.”

“I don’t have any more.” Nanami spoke around the smothering kisses you gave him.

“You do! Just- just a few more!” He wasn’t really in a position to argue with you, you were holding onto him with far more strength than he could ever hope to possess, and while the pollen on your skin had started to diminish there was still a lot in the air that refused to let him truly come to a stop.

As if on command, Nanami felt his balls tighten up and he came again. The arms holding him up broke down and he fell on top of you, burrowing his face into your neck and holding your hips up with his hands.

“Fuck, baby-” With his eyes squeezed shut, Nanami lost track of where he actually was. Nothing mattered except for the feeling of your body underneath him and your cunt holding him in a vice grip. There wasn’t any reason to keep track of how many times he’d emptied a load inside you, so when he did it again so soon after the other one, Nanami paid it no mind.

“It’s coming!” You gasped suddenly, cradling the back of Nanami’s head as your body suddenly came to a stop. Unable to stammer out a question as to what was coming, Nanami was met with the harsh shock of your cunt getting so tight he couldn’t move any further.

Raking your fingers through his hair, you sobbed openly, words slurring together. Nanami was only able to catch something about a ‘seal’ and how you were making Mother so proud for your first heat cycle on Earth.

“Baby, what’s going on?” Craning his head down, Nanami was just barely able to see the swollen flesh of your sex encompassing his cock.

“Y-you humans would call this a knot, right?” Shifting your hips a little, you slowly unwind your legs from around Nanami and let them lay on the bed. “I have to keep you inside for a while.”

“You’re going to get pregnant though.” With his mind still in disarray, Nanami found that he didn’t actually care. He knew that was why you came to the planet and he was willing to help you fulfill your mission.

“Not this first time, I’m only keeping it for later.”

“Of course an alien has sperm storage.” Mumbling to himself, Nanami felt the aches in his body finally starting to settle in as the rest of the pollen was cleared out of the air and the world around him returned to normal. Laying down as gently as possible, Nanami rolled you onto your side and hooked your leg over him. “How long will we be like this?”

“At least another five minutes.” Snuggling closer to him, you tucked your head under his chin. Taking a deep breath, Nanami felt around for the blanket you used that had managed to stay on the bed during all the moving. Throwing it over the two of you, he let out a sigh.

“I can wait five minutes.” No doubt there was going to be a lot of explaining to do on his part, and he could possibly get fired, but Nanami refused to think about that right now. He was far too tired, and the way you cuddled into him had not an ounce of regret or shame going through him. He would do it all again in a heartbeat.

“Nanami?” You whispered, fighting through sleep.

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

Did you know what love truly was? Did you have the capacity to love him like any other human, or were you thinking of a different emotion that you wanted to convey? Maybe you loved him in a way that he couldn’t understand and never would, or perhaps you were lying to further your agenda.

“I love you too.” Kissing the top of your head, Nanami pushed all other thoughts out of his head that could lead him to a negative outcome. Focusing on the sound of your breathing, he knew you had fallen asleep, and he kissed you again. “Yeah...I love you too.”

[pennyl4n3]

The Pool

*Taking a deep breath*

Well well well, this is my first fanfic (or should I say second or third? Btw, this one came to a conclusion) and I've never been much into writing, but Duskwood and all of you fantastic people in the fandom here brought me to this. I hope you like it, and of course I look forward to your comments and feedback.

Pairing: Jake x MC

Contents: Angst, Sadness, Fluff, Romance

It had been three months since his last contact with her. He'd had to disappear from the radar, the government breathing down his neck. Every day he fought the urge to write to her; he couldn't risk putting her in danger. He couldn't even risk reading her conversations at the moment, so he was as blind as she was.

He didn't know where she was, if she was okay, if she was mad at him, though after all this time he imagined she was. The last time they had written to each other she was in Duskwood and he had every intention of finally catching up with her. Things hadn't gone as planned unfortunately, and the deal he was trying to make with the government had fallen through, forcing him to become a fugitive again.

He was exhausted, he was free and yet he felt imprisoned in an endless loop. Ever since he had met her he had realized how heavy his condition was to bear, how much he missed talking to someone in person, how much he longed to get out without having to disguise himself. He wanted to move, to run, to be outside, and above all else he wanted to run to her, and hold her, look into her eyes, tell her in his voice how much he missed her.

While he was lost in these thoughts he scrolled through their last conversations, rereading every word and every comma. At one point he found the conversation in which they had talked about one of MC's great passions, swimming. He barely knew how to float, he had never had a chance to learn it as a child, and on that occasion he had promised himself he would try it someday. MC had told him about a public pool in her hometown that was easy to get into at night through a gate with a broken lock. She had gone there many times, when she needed to relieve her nerves and to be alone. Suddenly Jake felt the urge to see that pool, and set about finding it. Amazingly it was a couple of blocks from where he was hiding, the next step was to check the security cams near the building and along the way. He could do it without too much difficulty, and he really needed to get some air and some purpose, so he slipped on his sweatshirt, pulled on his hood and mask, and set off.

He arrived within minutes, constantly looking around. The streets were practically empty, but caution was never too much. The pool was a low building, all on one level. Mentally following MC's directions he managed to find the little gate, behind some bushes. It was still broken, unbelievable. Curiosity was stronger than him and he continued towards the entrance. His footsteps echoed in the hall, as he went down the few steps that led directly to the pool floor, the smell of chlorine filled his nostrils. Even though it was night he could see almost all of the interior well, thanks to the huge windows that almost reached the ceiling and let in the illumination of the street lamps, just as MC had told him.

He sat on the steps and stayed there for a while, lost in his imagination, even though he had never seen MC, enjoying that moment of peace, and trying to imagine her doing something that made her feel good...

A noise outside startled him, he ran off the steps and flattened himself against the wall. He waited in silence, his nerves on edge, his heart in his throat, his eye searching for possible alternatives escape routes. another metallic noise, and the angry meows of two cats fighting each other. Jake breathed a sigh of relief but waited vigilantly for a while longer before heading for the exit with shaking legs. When he returned to his shelter, he promised himself he would never try it again, but that was not to be. He returned there two more nights, until he decided to get a swimsuit and try swimming.

And so Jake found himself inside the pool, scared and unsure at first, but after a few minutes he began to feel the benefit of being in the water, the lightness provided by its support. He knew it wouldn't last long, but he continued to go there as many nights as he could. He would return to his hut tired but satisfied, and he could even get a decent night's sleep.

One evening he was trying to swim as usual when he heard a female voice saying jokingly, "well, I thought I was the only one who knew this place, but apparently not." Jake froze, almost having a heart attack. He was in the water, there was no way to escape. He drew a deep breath, thinking that it was anyway dark enough, and that his features weren't clearly visible, and decided to try not to look too suspicious. "Yeah, apparently not" he replied, trying to keep his voice from shaking. The girl smiled, or so it seemed to him, and continued, "I guess you like to be here alone, just like I usually do, but I could really use a swim tonight. I'll go in the back lane, I swear I won't bother you. Is that okay?" "O-oh yeah, yeah, go ahead," Jake mumbled, trying to hide his face as much as possible, and stood watching her as she made her way to the other side of the pool, still shocked that there was another human being in the same room as him. He realized that he was staring in her direction, and decided to start swimming again. After a while he stopped, out of breath and with tired arms, and saw that the girl instead was still swimming, at a brisk pace, and giving no sign of wanting to stop. He got out of the water and sat on the steps, wrapped in his towel, trying to catch his breath. Watching her was hypnotic, she moved with fluid movements, slow and steady. He wondered if MC swam like that too. How he wished he could have written to her to tell her he was swimming, or at least trying to, and to thank her for letting him discover this wonderful new experience as well. Since he had met her, his life had taken on a new light, where before only greyness and despair reigned.

His phone made a sound, bringing him back to reality. It was time to go home. He dressed quickly and headed for the exit, he didn't want to interrupt the girl's concentration, and he didn't intend to introduce himself, so better that way. Once back at the shelter he went back to work on his laptop, while eating a sandwich. Concentration continued to leave him that night, however, as the encounter with the stranger had brought him back to MC in a big way.

He returned to the pool the next evening, yearning to tire himself out and find some peace of mind. Once he got to the door he heard the sound of water coming from inside, he carefully pushed his way across the threshold, trying to figure out who was there and was relieved to see that it was again the girl he met the night before. He walked over to his side of the pool and removed his clothes as he cast furtive glances at her. He dove into the water and began to swim, trying to focus on his breathing, which was the part he struggled with the most. When he emerged with bated breath, he saw the girl standing at the edge of the pool and winced. "Hi, I didn't mean to scare you. I've been watching you swim and I thought I could give you a few tips, if you don't mind" Jake was so amazed and scared that for a few seconds he could only stare at her with his mouth open. "I-I...I don't.... " she giggled softly and shrugged her shoulders "Ok, look, I didn't mean to embarrass you...I'm going back to my lane. If you want it you know you can ask it okay?" And she turned to go back to her lane. "Wait. Yes, please I will gladly accept your help." Jake said. She retraced her steps and squatted down beside the edge of the pool with a smile on her face. "So, first let's start with your upper body, I've noticed that you move it a lot between strokes and that wastes your energy and breath. Try to stand up straighter, your arms and legs do most of the work. Then, every time you pull your arm forward, you can inhale if you feel the need to, and slowly you'll find yourself pulling two strokes, then three, and so on, but don't be in a hurry. If you take care of your technique well, managing your breath will already be easier." Jake was focused on her words and nodded, before turning around and trying again. Following her advice actually felt like he was already doing better. A wave of satisfaction ran through him when he managed to do his usual laps without getting breathless. He emerged smiling and sat on the edge of the pool. She was still there and looked at him approvingly, then asked "Better now, isn't it? "Yes, thank you very much." He answered. "Thanks to you, I'm just back in town but I'm not having much contact with the rest of the world, helping you was a pleasure" "I... I understand, I didn't have much contact lately either". A slightly embarrassed silence fell between them. It was Jake's phone that broke it, by emitting an alarm tone. Jake got up quickly and headed for his bagpack. "I, uh, have to go now, thanks again for your help." She looked at him briefly, nodded, and stepped back. "Oh, yeah, sure, no problem. Well, good night then" and walked back to the pool. "Good night" he replied, and as soon as she turned around, he changed his wet swimsuit with dry clothes and headed quickly to the exit.

As he walked down the street, he wondered if he wasn't risking too much by going to the pool regularly, and by confiding in that unknown girl. He then decided that it would be better to avoid it for a while, even if it was with great regret.

Jake avoided the pool for a few days, but eventually decided to go back. He couldn't wait to get there. As he walked the short distance between his hiding place and the pool, he mentally savored the feel of the water, the smell of the chlorine, the relaxation it gave him to swim until his muscles ached. As always, he sneaked up on the hidden entrance, his senses all out to catch any suspicious movements or noises. That evening, however, he heard no suspicious noises as he entered the large room with the tanks, but a soft sobbing. He listened for a while, trying to distinguish where the crying was coming from. When he spotted the silhouette of the mysterious girl on the steps he felt a tug at his heart, and could not help but go near her.

"Hey, is everything okay?" he said softly.

She looked up with a jolt, and when she recognized him she answered a little annoyed: "What do you think? No, everything is not okay." She immediately realized she had been abrupt, and added in a tone of apology, clutching her knees to her chest: "Sorry, I didn't think you would come, I haven't seen you here in a while and you caught me off guard..." "It's okay, no need to apologize. I guess I interrupted an intimate moment of yours. It's just that hearing you cry made me worried somehow." He replied to her as he blushed, realizing what he had just said. "I-I meant...well I mean, sorry if I m-maybe I embarrassed you, I should probably go and..." hinting back. "No, wait. Please stay. If it's not a problem for you of course. I don't really feel like being alone anymore." she said as she reached out a hand towards him and motioned for him to sit beside her. Jake was tense, the last thing he had expected that night was to find himself consoling the mysterious girl, but he certainly couldn't leave her there alone, she had always been very kind to him and he was sincerely sorry to see her sad. He exhaled a deep breath and went to sit next to her as he pulled a handkerchief from a pocket of his backpack and handed it to her. "Thank you," she said with a smile, "I really appreciate it." For a while an awkward silence descended, during which they both stared at their hands. Suddenly she blurted out "You know, I'm worried about someone, that's why I was crying. I haven't heard from him in a while and I don't know what to think. I'm trying to move on, I promised him, and really, I'm trying so hard, but some days the weight of his absence is so hard to bear that I can barely get out of bed. Whatever I do the thought of him is with me. This is the only place I can find some peace, because swimming empties my mind b-but t-tonight..." her eyes glazed over again as she swallowed, trying to push back the tears. He had listened to her in silence until that moment, respecting her moment of venting, but when he realized she was about to cry again he felt he had to do something, so he passed his left arm behind her back and pulled her to him, gently holding her in an embrace. "I-I can understand it, you know? I promised one person I would move on too. But it's so hard. I want to call her, I want to write her, I want to know how she is doing, where she is...but every day I forbid myself to do that. And I know I owe it to her, because she doesn't deserve to keep feeling bad because of me and my mistakes and..." his voice faded away, as he realized that he was risking to say things he shouldn't have said, he recovered quickly trying to cut it short and not to let the tremor in his voice be heard "...and I understand you, that's it. I miss her so much too."

As they stood in silence, his heart running fast in his chest and he desperately looking for something else to say, he felt her draw back into his embrace and sigh. It felt good to have her in his arms, and feeling her calming down warmed his heart. It had been so long since Jake had touched anyone, not really talked to anyone, hardly remembered what it was like. A little later she said softly, "Thank you. For sharing a little piece of you with me. You don't need to talk about it if you don't feel like it, I understand. It's... " she stopped thoughtfully, "Complicated" finished Jake. "Yes, yes exactly! It's damn complicated. But knowing that someone can understand me makes me feel better." then she turned to him and drew a deep breath, then added, "Well, how about a swim? After all, this is what we both came for." Jake nodded and removed his arm from her shoulders. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He got up from the steps and walked over to the usual little corner where he used to change his clothes, while she headed to her pool lane and dove in. Once he slipped into his swimsuit, Jake entered cautiously, still pensive from that brief but intense exchange of confessions.

He slowly dived down to the bottom and stayed there for a while, still immersed in his thoughts. He had to stop those nightly outings. They were already dangerous in themselves, and now this unknown girl had been added, making him talk too freely. All of his inner alarms were telling him it was time to stop, and it was also time to change hiding places again, even though being so close to a place in MC's heart made him feel closer to her.

A movement to the side of his field of vision brought him out of his thoughts, and out of the pool as well. When he got to his feet he ran a hand over his eyes and pulled his hair back so he could see better, turning to face the source of the movement. He saw her in the aisle next to where he stood, staring at him. "A-are you ok?" said him in an uncertain voice. She giggled and replied, "I was going to ask you the same thing, you weren't coming up out of the water anymore." "Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry I scared you, I was just... well, reflecting." he replied. She stared at him intently, looking at his black hair, stuck to the sides of his face, and said tilting her head "It's weird you know? You remind me so much of him, the way you behave somehow, I can't actually explain it". Jake blushed and swallowed hard. "I'll take it as a compliment" he replied, and stepped out of the water. "I have to get back. I hope you feel better now." continued, while heading to the bag of dry clothes. She stood staring at him, wondering if she had made him uncomfortable with that confession. When she realised he was about to undress she turned around, blushing. She waited for a while and then sat down on the edge of the bath and said with a smile, "Yes, I'm feeling better, thanks to you. Good night, stranger."

When he arrived to the hut, something alarmed him: some of the boards near the entrance were placed differently than he had left them. He quickly stepped into the shadows and took out his phone to check inside. Two men were sitting at his usual spot, peering at the screens. Jake was quick to slip back downstairs and to reach out his hiding place number two, three doors down. As soon as he was seated, he took his phone out of his jeans pocket and started the hidden cameras. The two men didn't seem to have any idea what they were looking at, and they didn't look like officers either, to be honest. Maybe two thieves? But what kind of thieves would break into an old warehouse with the windows covered by boards? What did they expect to find there? He carefully examined the video images from the cameras he had placed around the rest of the perimeter of the building and saw a couple of policemen in the back. "Fuck!" he whispered through his teeth. He prepared to format everything in the hiding place and stood vigilantly by, watching them alternately. The two intruders were probably hiding from the cops, and risked exposing him. He noticed that there was a car shop next door and decided to create a diversion. He quickly managed to hack into the shop's security system and set it to go off, so that the cops could be sent away. He then logged on to his workstation and simply brought up Nymos, some glitches and the words "intruders detected, defensive protocol activated" on the screens. It was more than enough to send the two of them running for the hills.

He sighed with relief, letting himself down on the makeshift mattress behind him. He stayed like that for a while as he listened to his heartbeat return to a normal rhythm, his adrenaline slowly subsiding, his breathing becoming regular. His stomach rumbled, so he reached into his bag and pulled out an energy bar. After an hour or so, he locked the entrance to the main hideout and went back the way he'd come: better stay there for the night. As he settled in for the night, streams of thoughts came over him. He realised that the idea of leaving MC hometown made him feel lost, even though she wasn't there, and it wasn't even certain that she would return. Still, he knew he had to leave, that evening's mishap was another proof of that. There wasn't much to think about really, he had to move again, maybe he'd come back later. He thought of the girl at the pool, of her pain, so familiar. How was it possible that love could always bring so much suffering? He drifted off to sleep with those thoughts in his head, and woke up restless.

The next morning Jake was almost done packing up all of his belongings and ready to go. He wondered if once he was settled into his new hiding place, he would find another pool where he could train undisturbed, so he set about identifying all the potential candidates. How he wished he could have told MC about this! As he scanned the pools and studied their surroundings it occurred to him that he could write her using a disposable phone before leaving. His hands began to shake at the mere thought of being able to write her again. Would she be happy to read it? Maybe she was angry with him. In their last conversation she had told him to at least let her know if he was alive as soon as he could. Before he could think about it too much longer, he stormed out of the room and headed for the first open store. Once he retrieved the disposable phone he went back to the spare hut and slipped into it with all his things. He turned on the phone and prepared it for use.

*??? is online*

Jake:Hello, MC.

Shortly after came the reply

*** MC is online ***

MC:Jake! Are you okay?

Jake:Yes MC, I'm fine. I apologize for not letting you hear from me again, it was too dangerous.

MC:That's okay, I'm so glad to read you now, I kept telling myself that you were definitely fine and that I shouldn't have written you, as promised

Jake felt his palms sweat.

Jake:You know, I've been going swimming lately. At night, on the sly. Your enthusiasm about it convinced me. You were so right MC, it can empty your mind. I wanted so hard to thank you for that.

MC:I went swimming recently too, at night, it kept me from going crazy. Maybe we swam at the same time

Jake: :)

Jake:And do you know where I was? The place you told me about. It was like I felt closer to you

MC squinted her eyes

MC:Jake... you don't mean that place with big windows almost to the ceiling,do you?

Jake:Yes, exactly that.

MC bursted in laugh and shaked her head in disbelief.

MC:And you didn't happen to meet someone? Like a really nice, kind girl who gave you lessons?

Jake felt his knees buckle and had to lean against the wall to keep from falling.

Jake:You...

Jake:Was that you?

Butterflies were spreading through his stomach.

MC:So you hugged me the other night! I was crying just for you, and you were there, this is crazy!

MC:Where are you now?

His eyes widened.

Jake:MC me, I was going to leave the town, last night I found intruders in my shelter, it's not safe for me to be here anymore.

For a time that seemed eternal to him there was no sign of life on the other end of the phone.

Jake:MC...

MC:Don't you dare

MC:Don't you dare leaving again. You've been staying here for days, and even allowed yourself to go out almost every night, and you never wrote me anything. Now that we might meet you're starting this again.

MC:We met by accident Jake! Does that seem normal to you???

MC:I'll be waiting there tonight, you better come

***MC is offline***

Jake stared at the phone bewildered. He was terrified. He couldn't believe he had hugged MC the night before. And she was crying, because of him. She was right, he couldn't leave again.

That night he went to the pool, almost running. He sneaked up on the hidden entrance, holding his breath, and went to sit on the steps where he usually rested his backpack. A short time later he saw her walk in and head towards him. It seemed to him that his heart was about to explode. He stood up and walked over to her. They both found themselves running to cover the final distance that separated them. They hugged each other tightly, and stayed that way, without speaking for who knows how long. Neither of them wanted to untie the embrace, as if to do so meant to lose themselves again.

At the end MC pulled back a little to look him in the eyes, and said, "I was beginning to think this moment would never come" "And instead we found each other without even knowing it" he replied chuckling. She blushed and rose on tiptoe to give him a light kiss on the lips.

"Shall we go for a swim?" she told him with a mischievous grin. "Sure. I've been taking lessons" he replied as he began to undress.

[slasherscream]

Hi I don’t know if you write for Thomas Hewitt or Vincent Sinclair but if you do you could you please make some headcanons about them and the other slashers like if they got into a fight with their s/o and how it would go, what it would be about, and how they would make up with their s/o please? It’s totally fine if you don’t want to. But if you do then thank you so much!

fighting with the slashers 

A/N: i do write for vincent (on a related note i also write for bo and maybe lester i haven’t tried him out yet)!

vincent sinclair 

You didn’t stay put when Vincent told you to and you got hurt. 

You hadn’t planned to leave. Until the sun started to go down and no one came back to the house to check up on you the way they so often do when there are visitors in town.

You are Ambrose’s second best kept secret. Alive because Vincent took one look at you and couldn’t bare to hurt you. And though Bo gripes about you he couldn’t tell Vincent no. Not when Bo saw the way Vincent held you behind him, head lowered but shoulders set, ready to actually fight him on something for once in their lives. 

So you’re kept in the house when there are people around. Other than not being able to leave it’s your only real rule. Vincent wants you to have no part in the more grisly aspects of the town and Bo and Lester honor his wish.

But the town is dead silent and no one has come to check on you. Most times Lester even comes to stay with you like some sort of babysitter. It used to irritate you, despite your fondness for the youngest brother. Now without him there your hands shake, and your eyes wander, and your ears burn as if pumping extra blood there will make you hear better. But there’s nothing to be heard. No screams. No cries. No Bo shouting. No guns going off. 

So you leave the house, searching for one of them. Instead you’re found by a survivor and held hostage in front of the twins. 

You all stand still for a long while, the victim not knowing what to do and the boys unable to move due to the knife digging into your neck, already drawing blood. 

Lester had been the one to save you, sneaking up behind your captor and stabbing them. You ran to Vincent on shaking legs and he gathered you into his arms, moving to take you back home. You could hear the screams of the man who’d almost killed you ringing through the streets behind you and shivered.

Vincent had cleaned your cut in silence and somehow had managed to barely touch you. Before you could blink he’d shut himself into his workshop and you were left alone until Bo came home and chewed you out.

You kept yourself busy cleaning and then prepared for bed, knowing it would be awhile before Vincent would come and join you. The sleep didn’t come easy as you were still shaken up, but eventually it came. 

You woke in the middle of the night to an empty bed and realized that if you didn’t go to get him Vincent wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight. 

You walk drowsily through Ambrose’s underbelly, the smoldering heat not doing you any favors, until you arrive at Vincent’s workshop where he’s hunched over his desk, unmoving. 

Not wanting to startle him you call his name quietly and you see his head tilt in acknowledgement but he doesn’t turn to look at you. 

Slowly you move until your front is resting against his back, even slower your arms encircle him and you kiss his shoulder, feeling guilty at the tension laying dormant in them. “I’m sorry, Vince. I was just worried about you so... so I left the house. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry I didn’t listen. I won’t do it again.”

He turns and there’s a pause, and then he moves his hands, fluid but slow. They’re shaking despite how strong you know they are. He tells you how he can’t lose you. How he loves you. He asks you to promise him that next time you’ll listen and you do, and you mean it. 

It’s only then that he pulls you into his lap and holds you tightly. You think he’s crying behind his mask but you just hold him back equally as tight and whisper I’m sorry against his steady pulse. 

pelle

He doesn’t like the company you keep. 

He has a plan. He has a plan to take you away from this strange, uncaring world that doesn’t deserve you. That doesn’t love you or care about you. If he sticks to the plan everything will be so easy. 

But sometimes Pelle loves you too much to bite his tongue. 

He can see it clearly, your perfect future where he takes care of you, and his family takes care of you, and you let them do it, and you’re happier for it; but you don’t live in that perfect future, you live in the frigid, imperfect present.

Here you stay up late in the night to help a friend finish a term paper when last week they didn’t even call when you were sick. You gave a classmate your umbrella to borrow a month ago, and today you come back shaking from the rain because they never bothered to return it.

A thousand little kindnesses that the world outside the Hårga spit on. 

He knows that all these moments of careless apathy towards you will only strengthen the draw you’ll feel when you finally meet his family.

You have the heart of a Hårga and he knows that you’ll feel that connection.

Still, the way the outside world, the way your friends and family slight you at every turn, makes his blood run hot. He’s never felt anger like this before. It is all consuming and yet he must stomach it alone.

And so his tongue is careless sometimes. He asks in tones that he shouldn’t use with you “you’re going out with them again?” and “but didn’t they-?” and still he is angry. The words do not ease the feelings because they do not fix the problem. 

Pelle must lead you into the arms of his family and their way of life. He cannot push you. But he doesn’t know how not to take care of you. 

He wants to beat away the leeches and moths that cling to your light and whisk you away to home where the sun will warm you with its love.

Your fights are gentle, and so you might never refer to them as fights when people ask you if you ever argue with Pelle. 

There is no yelling, or balled fists, or the animal sensation of fight or flight. He leads you to sit down with him and holds your face in his hands. Unthinkingly you mimic the gesture and he smiles at you lovingly. One kiss and he tells you that he doesn’t like your friends. Another and he says that you deserve better, deserve the world. 

You try to get a word in edgewise, to deny the claims he makes, to tell him that they really do care about you, but the words are smothered by his soft lips. He kisses you until your brain goes somewhere loved and numb. He slips your coat off of your shoulders and pulls you close. He keeps you there until you forget that you had anywhere to be besides his arms. 

You and Pelle don’t fight. 

chucky and tiffany 

Tiffany is used to Chucky being a piece of shit. You are not.

Upside to fighting with Chucky is that Tiffany is immediately on your side, even if you’re in the wrong (I’m joking it’s always Chucky’s fault.)

Downside is that the whole house is now up in fucking chaos. 

chucky: tiff where are my fucking keys?

tiffany: in hell! why don’t you go and grab them?

You appreciate her fighting spirit but she’s really going in on y’all’s man. 

Which is not to say that Chucky doesn’t deserve it. Because he does deserve it, but you know from personal experience that being on Tiffany’s bad side is scary.

Why are you and Chucky fighting? Chucky is an insensitive asshole, and even the toughest skin isn’t bullet proof. 

The aftermath of whatever Chucky did is a lot of sullen silence from you; the sounds of a knife chopping a little too loudly in the kitchen from Tiff; and loud bits of huffing and puffing from Chucky as he stomps around the house. 

At first he thinks he can just wait out your anger until you start missing him. It used to work with Tiffany all the time!

But this relationship involves three people. You’re not so quick to get desperately lonely, especially if Tiffany isn’t the partner you’re fighting with. Do you miss Chucky? Sure. Do you miss him enough to let him be an asshole just to get some cuddle time in on the couch? As if! Tiffany is the better cuddler anyway. 

The man child is going to have to say sorry and mean it. 

Of course this means that your relationship is going be sans-Chucky for at least a week.

Tiffany reaches the breaking point before Chucky does. Obviously more in-tune with your feelings she can tell how much the fight is getting to you and no one messes with her sweetheart! Not even Chucky.

You’re going to hear her delicately clearing her throat, look up from your phone, and find Tiffany holding Chucky at fucking knife point. 

tiffany: do you have anything to say, chucky?

chucky, trying to decide if he’ll let tiffany kill him just to prove a point: ....

tiffany: i’ll start with your dick-

chucky: i’m sorry! are you fucking hAPPY?!

You’re gonna be like no!!! I do not accept the apology you gave me under extreme duress! At which point you turn over in bed and pull the covers over your head.

You’ll hear rapid-fire whispering and then the bed dips behind you. A knee presses into your back, and kisses are pressed carelessly to where your head should be beneath the covers. Then, finally, the quietest “I didn’t mean it, doll.” as he pulls the blanket back in order to look at your face. 

You’re stopped dead by the softness on his face. By the softness he let’s you see, even if it’s only for a moment. It might not be the words I’m sorry but it sounds like them. It sounds like an I miss you, as well.

When you drop your phone and throw your arms around his neck, touching him for the first time in a week, Chucky sighs in relief. 

Not ten seconds passes before Tiffany has thrown herself over the both of you, suffocating you in her loving embrace. Just like that, balance is restored in the Lee Ray-Valentine household. For now. 

[cdroloisms]

consider- after the whole "reviving Tommy" thing comes in and does the whole pic thing again- but this time dream lunges for the pic, trying to grab it from sam, and they fight for it, and sam ends up stabbing through dreams left eye, far enough to kill him. dream respawns blind in that eye.

ooh anon ,, this is such a good prompt but . *head in hands* MAN,, half-blind c!dream living in my head rent free. on one hand, narrative parallels! and on the other hand ,, pain. so, so much pain.

anyway, have this quick ficlet set in current roommates arc! 

tw: EYE TRAUMA, GORE (in ask), implied torture/abuse, violence, mentioned child death, injuries, trauma, prison arc, pandora’s vault, dark portrayal of c!sam

Techno is pacing around the cell for something like the fifty-third time after sending Draem to break the obsidian when Dream snaps, neck twisting over to look at him with the one eye exposed by the cracked edge of his mask narrowed in a rather unthreatening glare.

“Will you stop that?” he hisses, and Techno hesitates, shrugs.

“I dunno,” he says simply, walking back to the bell. He raps his knuckles on it once as he passes, humming at the wave of new channel member and one of us from Chat as the echo subsides. “I’m not going to lie, Dream, there’s not exactly much to do here.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Dream’s voice drops, for a second, from that over-tense harshness the guy refuses to give up, becoming softer around the edges, more casual than meant to rile up and provoke. Seconds later, his jaw tightens, and he looks away to stare back at the block, humor gone. “Figure out something else to do. I don’t care.”

“Hmm,” Techno makes a considering noise before pacing back to the bell and letting the back of his hand meet it with a quiet clang. “Nah.”

Dream makes an irritated, wordless sound of frustration, but otherwise does not stop in his chipping away at the obsidian block. Techno watches him as he circles around - the line of his lip, from where it peeks out behind the mask, is flat and slightly downturned at the corners, speaking of his frustration, but otherwise he seems mostly relaxed. Techno steps forward, stopping in his tracks at the opposite side of the cell when the other man’s posture tightens suddenly, shoulders rising to his ears, chin ducking to his chest. The smiling face of the side of the mask that hasn’t been shattered stares at him from behind a curtain of matted hair. Techno steps back, watching when he swings over to Dream’s other side and he relaxes again, shoulders falling, muscles untensing, and frowns.

Usually, people have a weaker side when fighting - it’s something he’d become especially adept at picking out in fights, giving him an edge over his opponent. Personally, he’s relatively ambidextrous, easily able to maneuver around and wield a weapon on both sides, and the versatility has proved to be a valuable asset on the battlefield. As a shield fighter, Dream isn’t offered the same flexibility when it comes to switching hands, but Techno remembers being impressed by his range of movement anyway - unlike most, who fail to properly wield and move around the awkward weight and shape of a shield in their non-dominant hand, Dream’s movements were fluid, unbroken. He wielded the shield almost like a second sword, not simply blocking hits as much as he would catch and redirect them in a way that benefited him most. He hadn’t had a weak side, from what Techno could remember of their spars, despite the specialization, he met every thrust and strike on either side with an easy movement and laughing air.

Once again, Techno paces until he’s entirely on Dream’s left side, watching him all the while. Once again, Dream tense with every step he takes towards the opposite end of the cell, ending with hunching over himself significantly, jaw clenched and tight.

“Are you hurt?”

Dream flashes a look at him, unimpressed, and yeah. That’s fair - it was a dumb question; the other man is absolutely littered with cuts and bruises on every visible inch of skin, obviously malnourished and even more obviously marked with a patchwork of pale, pinkish scars. Techno huffs at Dream, still watching him incredulously, and gestures at his crouching body.”

“Well obviously I know you’re injured, but you’ve been really jumpy around your left side, man. You haven’t been hiding any life-threatening injuries under that jumpsuit, have you? It would be really awkward if you just dropped dead one day, I’m not gonna lie.”

Dream goes still, before shaking his head slightly with a harsh puff of air.

“Figures you’d notice that,” he mutters, almost to himself, before turning to look at Techno with a small, tight-lipped smile. “Nothing gets past you, huh?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say nothing…”

Dream laughs, short and without humor. His hair swings in front of his face, and Dream ignores it as he goes back to chipping at the obsidian. Techno winces, sensing that he’s hit on a sore spot, and backs off, presuming that the other man is done with the conversation.

“I’m blind. In my left eye.”

Or not, apparently.

“Uh,” Techno rolls his shoulders back, trying to catch a glimpse at Dream’s face underneath the mess of his hair and his mask keeping it out of sight. “I’m guessing that’s a recent development, then?”

“Mmhm,” Dream goes back to the obsidian with seeming renewed determination. Techno sighs, waving away the curious chants and questions from Chat blind? Teletubby blind? Not pog. Is that from quackity? E e e e and battling his own awkwardness to figure out what to say next. Gee, thanks for the bombshell, Dream. You sure know how to make a conversation uncomfortable.

“Is it from Quackity, then?” He asks, finally, remembering the scar that had clawed across Quackity’s face, a large, ragged thing from the rough edge of a pickaxe. It had been a harsh death, not that he’d thought much of it at the time, and the clear remnants of it on Quackity’s face and in the newfound fogginess of his left eye seems all the more relevant here, with Dream’s newest revelation. He’d hardly put it past the man to take someone else’s eye as revenge, even if Dream hadn’t been the one to ruin his vision in the first place.

“Nope, surprisingly,” Dream seems to shrug, popping the ‘p’. “Was from Sam, actually. He got mad after I killed Tommy, gave me this in return. I don’t even think it was on purpose, but you know. Shit happens. He ran.”

“Kinda sounds like a garbage warden, I’m not gonna lie.”

“He probably could’ve fixed it, if he bothered getting a regen. He didn’t, though. He left basically immediately after, didn’t come back for weeks. Bastard. Left me in here with the child for another few days- what an idiot.”

“Doesn’t sound like the smartest decision,” Techno says, finally, and Dream laughs slightly before going back to his obsidian. Techno watches him for a minute, before going back to their bell, carefully feeling along the smooth surface.

“You want to see?” Dream says, suddenly, and Techno’s head snaps up.

“Uh,” he flounders. “I guess?”

Dream’s hands go to his mask, trembling slightly as he unfastens the buckle in the back. Techno thinks he’s seen Dream without the mask fewer times than he can count on one hand, watches silently as he eases it off to look him in the eyes. His cheeks are pale, gaunt, eyes startlingly wide. There’s a cut still healing along his right cheekbone, a bump along his nose bridge from where it’d been broken, before. A small, thick scar rises from his left eye socket, and the eye within it is glassy, unseeing, paler as if covered by a slight film. He looks tired, shadows under his eyes, slightly scared. If he’s being honest, he looks young, human. Very, very human.

“When we get out,” Techno says, keeping his voice light as Dream goes to fasten the mask on his face again. “I’ll get Phil or someone to make you an eyepatch, or something. Really sell the whole homeless schtick you’ve got going on.”

“Techno,” Dream starts, exasperated, and Techno grins.

“Or maybe a pirate is more fitting. You like pirates? You know, if you have a ship, you won’t be homeless anymore-”

“You are the worst,” Dream huffs, and Techno laughs as he goes back to pacing around the cell, careful to stay on Dream’s right side.

“That’s not an answer, you know,” he continues, and Dream shakes his head.

“I’ll tell you when we get out, then.”

“Sounds good,” Techno smiles despite himself. That must be the first time that Dream admitted that they were going to get out. Guess you aren’t as hopeless as you thought, nerd. “We’ll figure it out when we get out.”

[caws5749]

Dazed and Confused, The Quarantine Series, pt. 35

A/N: FINALLLYYYYYY!! I'll be writing a TON tonight (or at least, that’s my plan, which may very well change). I’m enjoying writing so much, and perhaps it will turn a bit into a DWN

Masterlist

By the time Natasha had returned with the food, you’d fallen fast asleep. Talia was so exhausted that she would probably sleep through the night and when Nat saw you on the couch, your neck bent at an angle that looked less than comfortable, she knew you’d probably do the same. 

“Hey,” she murmured, gently rubbing her hand along the length of your arm. “I’ve got food.” 

“Mmmm... ow.”

“Yeah, you fell asleep at a weird angle.”

“I can tell,” you grumbled, stretching. “Thanks for picking up the food, baby.”

Your girlfriend nodded, opening the bags and handing you some food. “Think she’ll wake?” she asked, nodding at the sleeping little girl across the room. 

“With the smell of the food, maybe. But she’s exhausted. I probably would have slept through the night if you hadn’t have woken me.” 

“Probably,” Natasha agreed, taking a seat next to you and taking a bite of her food. 

“Steve got a little too happy watching us with a kid,” you stated after a few minutes of silence. Though your girlfriend was exhausted beyond belief, her eyes widened significantly as she recalled that moment from earlier. When she didn’t say anything, you turned to look at her. Her expression was unreadable, a neutral mask placed carefully on her face. You weren’t quite sure why. 

“What is it?” you prodded gently. 

“Nothing, Y/N. I’m just tired and can’t think straight.”

Not wanting to push and not quite having the energy to even do so, you nodded and focused on the food in front of you. All you wanted to do after eating was to curl up and go to sleep with Nat, but you couldn’t do that and it was starting to dampen your already low spirits. On top of that, you would be sleeping on the couch for the evening. 

“Should have set her down on the couch,” you joked. 

“Trying to get into bed with me that badly?” Nat smirked. 

“Yes,” you answered seriously, though you were overcome with a fit of giggles two seconds later. At your antics, your girlfriend rolled her eyes. 

“You need sleep.”

“So do you, the bags under your eyes are designer.”

++++++

A high pitched scream had you shooting up, your hands out in front of you as you tried to assess the threat. After a few seconds of looking around, you found nothing, save for a five year old who was thrashing about on your bed, clearly having a nightmare. 

You scrambled off of the couch and towards Talia, shaking her gently. 

“Talia, hey, sweetheart, you’re okay,” you soothed, your heart beating rapidly at the fear that shone in the child’s eyes. She cried out a phrase, one in a language that you couldn’t understand. After Talia repeated it, you recognized it as most likely Arabic, but you still couldn’t understand. Thoughts flashed through your mind quickly as you wondered whether or not Natasha spoke Arabic. You were fairly certain she knew a bit, even if she wasn’t fluid, and so after a few more moments of Talia crying, you quickly ran from the room with the promise that you’d return. 

Nat had stopped locking her door at night after a few months of dating you and so you had no trouble running into the room. At the first sound of her door opening, your girlfriend was up and was out of the bed within seconds. 

“She had a nightmare and she’s only repeating phrases in Arabic and-”

“She’ll be okay, Y/N.”

You could only hope that was true as you both rushed back into your room. Natasha was by Talia’s side in less than a second and was quietly murmuring to her in fluent Arabic. The girl quieted promptly at the recognition of her first language, going as far as to scramble into your girlfriend’s lap. Though a bit shocked, Nat scooped her up and rocked her back and forth. 

Sighing quietly, you sat down on the couch, feeling relieved. You took the moment to worry about the little girl, before thinking of your girlfriend. Once again, she’d done what no other person could seem to do. As she sat there with Talia on her lap, you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell. This was a woman who’d done countless for you, loved you unconditionally, supported you through everything, and was now waking up in the middle of the night to help a child she didn’t even know. 

You had already been wondering if she was the one, like truly the one, but you couldn’t be more certain in this moment. You knew you’d marry her. 

You were so lost in your thoughts you didn’t even realize how silent the room had become. 

“What are you thinking about?” your girlfriend asked softly. Catching her gaze, you could tell she was amused and had seen the smile on your lips. 

“You,” you shrugged, before focusing on Talia. “She’s asleep.”

“I’m afraid to move her.”

“Maybe in a few minutes you can move her. She’ll be further into sleep.”

“What were you thinking about me?” Natasha asked. 

“How much I love you.”

“And how much do you love me?”

You laughed quietly at her antics. “More than you know.”

Quiet fell as she took in your words. 

“Enough to want to marry you,” you added, a whisper. 

“You want to marry me.” It wasn’t a question, more of a statement, but you couldn’t tell whether it was born from a place of fear or happiness. 

“If you don’t want to or - it’s fi-”

“Y/N, stop. If I could come over there, I’d slap you and then kiss you. Of course I want to marry you. Just maybe not right now.”

A tear fell down your cheek from happiness. Someone wanted to marry you. The love of your life wanted to marry you. Natasha Romanoff wanted to marry you. 

At your tear, Nat must have thought something different, because she gently set Talia down on the bed before moving over to you. 

“I do want to marry you, Y/N,” she repeated, pulling you into your arms and pressing her lips to your forehead. 

“No, babe, I’m not sad, I’m happy,” you cried, more tears flowing. Pushing you back, Natasha’s thumbs wiped at your cheeks, shaking her head with a slight smirk. 

“Will you cry this much at our wedding?”

“Probably more,” you admitted with a watery chuckle. When you yawned a moment later, Nat kissed your cheek before standing. 

“I think we should go back to sleep.”

“But you just told me you wanted to marry me,” you pouted. 

“And I will tell you again in the morning.” 

++++++

“Baby, wake up.”

You sighed, rubbing at your eyes before finally opening them to a beautiful red-head. 

“Hi.”

“Hi,” she smiled, amused. “Bruce wants to give Talia a check up. He’s worried about some of those cuts and bruises.”

You turned your head to look over at the girl still sleeping in the bed. You looked back at Natasha. “She’s probably not going to like that.”

“She’ll be scared,” Nat agreed, before tapping your thigh lightly. “But, it has to be done. Come on.”

“No, cuddle with me.”

“There’s no room on that couch. You’re a space hog.”

“That’s not true,” you lied, knowing full well it was. 

“You have to get ready. He expects Talia at nine,” she replied. You sighed, yawning before sitting up. When you did, Natasha rewarded you with a kiss, one that you wished lasted longer. 

“I’ll be in the kitchen with Talia after I wake her.”

++++++

By the time you’d stumbled into the kitchen still half asleep, Bruce was speaking to Natasha and Talia. With Talia seemingly doing okay with Bruce, Nat stepped towards the coffee maker to speak with you.

“He wanted to get acquainted, make her feel a bit more comfortable,” she explained.

“It seems to be working,” you nodded, pouring yourself some coffee. 

“Do those cuts and bruises hurt?” Bruce asked, causing you to turn your head. You didn’t think he’d begin the visit in the kitchen, but perhaps he thought it would make it easier. 

“Not really.”

“Good, that’s good.”

He continued asking a few questions, you and Nat listening in. When it came time for the physical exam, he asked that you make your way to the med bay. Talia didn’t seem too phased, making you feel a bit calmer about the entire experience. She let Bruce push on her abdomen, look at her cuts, and even wash them out. The only thing she requested was hot chocolate after the ordeal, which you were happy to provide. 

As you were sitting on the couch in the living room with her watching a movie after her exam, Steve came up to the three of you. He looked apologetic, which puzzled the other two adults in the room. 

“Steve, what is it?” Natasha asked. 

“There’s a social worker here for Talia.”

“They’re taking her away? Just like that?” you questioned, already standing. 

“No,” Steve shook his head, holding his hands up to get you to stop for a second. “They just want to talk to her and see if they can figure something out. They can’t just leave her here.”

You knew that was true; you knew that she couldn’t stay here with you and it’s not like you’d even thought about having her stay but you certainly hadn’t wanted her to be taken away. Though you knew all of these things, you left the room, tears brewing in your eyes for a reason you couldn’t quite distinguish. 

“Y/N.”

You kept walking, ignoring the threat of tears falling down your cheeks. But your girlfriend didn’t stop, chasing after you until finally catching you down a few hallways. 

��Y/N, stop.” 

Her hand caught your upper arm, tugging and turning you around. Shock crossed Nat’s face as she was met with tears. 

“Y/N, what’s- why are you crying? I know it’s upsetting but-”

“I don’t know!”

“You don’t know what?” Natasha questioned calmly. 

“I don’t know why I’m crying.” 

[scriptmedic]

COVID

Or, How to Abandon Pants & Save the World at the Same Time

Hey all. Seems like it’s getting tough out there. 

Seems like shit is getting really real, really fast. 

I’m here in New York, doing ICU transfers for one of the hospital systems, and I can’t lie to you... it’s bad. 

We’re storing bodies in refrigerated trailers because the morgues are full. 

The City is reopening potter’s fields and digging mass graves. 

Hundreds of people a day are dying. Soon, thousands.

Mostly older. Some previously-healthy adults. Mercifully, not many kids. 

It’s real, and it’s bad. 

But I promise you, the world is not ending. 

And I also promise you this post will end with HOPE, even if it’s hard to read. 

But I want to talk about something... a misconception I’ve been seeing over and over again. 

We are NOT the “Front Line.”

I keep hearing the term “front line responders” used for our nurses... doctors... PAs...

Bullshit.

We’re the LAST line.

We’re the failsafe. The oh-shit, I can’t-fix-this-any-other-way line. 

We’re the everything else has gone wrong line. 

.

The FIRST line of defense against COVID is YOU. 

.

You, sitting at home, wondering how the world will ever get back to normal. 

You, hoping that your job will still be there in a week, a month, a year. 

You, resisting the urge to walk the dog again because you’re bored. 

YOU are the ones who are going to make the difference in how many people live, and how many die. 

Not us. Not your health professionals. 

YOU. 

.

How You Can Stay Safe & Save the World 

.

I want to talk about something .... RISK. 

A lot of people I know are pretty risk-tolerant. We’re young, we’re healthy, and if we DO get COVID, it will likely just seem like a cough, or even like...  ...nothing. 

Here’s the problem. 

There are a LOT  of people testing positive (in countries doing mass testing, i.e. not here) who had NO IDEA they were infected. 

It’s called being an Asymptomatic Carrier. 

So even if you literally do not care if you get COVID...

Even if you feel completely fine...

ACT LIKE YOU HAVE IT ANYWAY.  Act like ANYONE you come into contact with could die if your breath touches their skin, their mouth, their nose. 

Act like everyone you meet is your granny, or your mom, who’s sick. Someone you love. 

.

It’s not about YOUR health, it’s about EVERYONE’S health. 

.

I’ve put together a few guidelines to help you stay safe AND save the world. 

I’m about 6 feet tall... ...so remember to keep a distance of 1 (one) Scripty apart from each other. NO EXCEPTIONS (unless you’re fluid-bonded with someone). 

Wear a mask in public, even if you have to make it yourself.  No, this does not mean you can violate social distancing!  REMEMBER -- KEEP ONE SCRIPTY APART, MINIMUM!  Yes, I know masks are direly hard to come by. Yes, I know they’re uncomfortable. Yes, I know they make it hard to breathe. I am literally wearing TWO OF THEM at the same time, between 40-60 hours per week.  WEAR ONE ANYWAY.  Not on your chin... Not hanging off of one ear... Over your nose AND your mouth. .

If you can’t find a mask, DO NOT cough out of your facehole. The correct direction to cough is due elbow.  Then make sure you SCRUB dat bendy boi.   .

Scrub dem grippy bois Hand wash for 20 seconds. Make sure you’re getting between your fingers, under your nails, and around your wrists. Sing Happy Birthday to yourself.  Just like the Mars Rover did.  . 

STAY. THE FUCK. HOME.  I know you miss normal life. Time with your friends. Visiting your family.  I miss it too. I would LOVE to spend time in a park, to go hiking again, to go back to my GYM, to just... live my freaking life.  There are SO many people I’m craving hugs from.  But here’s the truth.  THE MORE YOU STAY HOME NOW, THE SOONER THINGS CAN GET BACK TO NORMAL.  I CANNOT stress this enough. Staying home is saving lives. Period. Full stop.  I don’t know the last time I saved a life with no pants on, but you can. Right now.  TAKE OFF YOUR PANTS AND STAY HOME AND YOU WILL SAVE LIVES I PROMISE.  (it’s okay to save lives with pants on tho. your roof, your rules.) 

.

I promised you this post would end with HOPE. 

.

Here’s the thing... 

Yes, a lot of people are going to die.

Yes, a LOT of people are going to be out of a job in the short term. 

Yes, this really is THAT BAD.  .

AND. 

.

Everything in Nature has a niche. Something it’s better at than anything else.

Dogs? Dogs are the best on the planet at loving people. (That’s the #1 reason we bred them from wolves -- because they loved us.) 

But humans do ONE THING way, WAY above and beyond ANY of our competition. 

WE ADAPT. 

We are the adaptivist motherfucking species on Planet Earth. 

We live in more environments than any other warm-blooded species I know of. 

We got cold... so we figured out how to make fire. 

We got hot... so we learned to harvest ice, and then to MAKE ice, and then to make air conditioners. 

Our food was going bad... so we made iceboxes, and then refrigerators, and then takeout (because we got too lazy to cook). 

The point is, we ADAPT. 

We adapted to the influenza pandemic in 1918, twenty years before we ever saw a virus under a microscope. 

We adapted to smallpox... and then fucking eradicated it. Smallpox literally no longer exists because we decided we’d had enough of it. 

We CAN and we ARE and we WILL adapt to COVID, too. 

Smart motherfuckers are making vaccines. 

Recovering patients are donating antibodies to help save lives while the smart motherfuckers get their shit in gear. 

.

And y’all are STEPPING the FUCK UP. 

.

My heart is overloaded with love and appreciation. 

For grocery store workers. Supply chain workers. Truckers. Food service workers. 

For all the people who can’t stay home. 

I nearly cried saying thank-you to a barista about an hour ago because a cup of coffee was enough to make me feel human. 

You’re busy praising us in the health care trenches, but the truth is, we owe our ability to live our lives right now to you. 

To the guy busting his ass in a restaurant for less than minimum wage. 

To the girl making round after round of deliveries even though she’s tired AF. 

To the people who are keeping us going. 

And most especially, to those who might have the hardest job of all...

...the people who are staying the fuck home. 

I love each and every one of you.

And it’s gonna be tough. It’s gonna be tough for a WHILE. (This is a marathon, not a sprint.) 

But we will get through this together. 

You... me... everyone. 

.

So, so, SO much fucking love, 

.

xoxo, Aunt Scripty

[chadillacboseman]

Mozzie anon here...I really appreciate it! When your requests are open, could I get Mozzie rescuing reader from the whitemasks?

I KNOW MY REQUESTS ARE CLOSED BUT COME ON-

I FEEL LOVE FOR MOZZIE IN THIS HOUSE TONIGHT.

--

READER IS GENDER-NEUTRAL!

TW: mentions of torture and death, violence typical of R6. Otherwise SFW.

It had been three days- or, at least, you were fairly certain three had passed. So little light filtered into your cell from the outside, that you couldn't be absolutely sure.

You watched the metal door in anticipation.

Twice a day, like clockwork, they opened a small slot and shoved a meal through on a plastic tray along with a bottle of water. Too small of an opening to make a move of any kind, and they never let their hand come into your cell.

The White Masks were smart, you had to give them that much.

The sliver of light on the far wall was slowly fading from bright orange to a deep, charred hue, and you knew the sun was setting wherever you were.

You sighed and kicked a chunk of broken cement across the floor; there was no way out of this- the White Masks would either torture you or kill you, and no one from Rainbow had any idea where you were.

Hell, even you didn't know where you were.

Your mind wandered to Max, "Mozzie" as the other ops called him- you wondered how he was feeling. You knew how reckless he got when he was hotheaded, and he was surely feeling very distraught right about now.

A loud metal clang jerked you out of your musings as a plastic tray was shoved, unceremoniously, through the slot in the door.

Dinner time.

You sauntered over to the tray and wrinkled your nose at the sight- it appeared to be a crude stroganoff, likely leftover from days prior, accompanied by plain bread, the texture of which was akin to cardboard.

You picked at the plate halfheartedly, trying to pry your mind from the writhing sense of dread slowly building in your gut. Three days was a long fucking time to keep a prisoner. Your luck had to be just about out.

Your cell grew dark as the sky outside the small square window turned black and your eyes got heavy. You fell to your stiff cot and rested your back against the cold stone wall.

You closed your eyes and let sleep wash over you as you tried not to think about what the morning would bring.

--

You awoke to the sound of a drone buzzing along the hallway outside your cell, mechanical blades whirring quietly, the sound reverberating through the metal of your door.

Drones. You imagined this compound was so secure that they had little need for regular footpatrols. That didn't bode well for you.

You glanced up at the wall and noted the burned orange light that painted it- you guessed it had to be at least 6am.

You mused for a moment about where exactly you might be- you knew by the faintness of the sounds from the yard below that you had to be several stories up. The White Masks were notorious for claiming abandoned or decommissioned sites, and this was likely one of them.

Footsteps outside the door interrupted your thoughts, loud and methodical- the footsteps of an executioner.

You swallowed, hard, when they paused outside your door.

A series of loud thuds and clanks signaled the unlocking of the door before it swung open and thudded hard against the concrete wall in your cell.

You glanced up and a blank white mask stared back at you, beady, dark eyes like two black gems set against the ivory surface.

"On your feet, prisoner."

You hesitated, weighing your options.

You could run.

Before you had the chance to consider it, the guard's large hand clasped down on your shoulder and hauled you to your feet. When they had brought you here, there had been a hood over your eyes- now you were able to see that there were dozens of other cells, some occupied, some emtpy, running the length of the hall.

The guard pinned your arms behind your back and cuffed them before shoving you, unceremoniously, forward toward a large, metal door at the end of the hall.

You had seen plenty of doors like that before.

You knew what would be behind it- a car battery, knives, a chair with leather restraints.

Anything and everything a torturer could need.

You knew what the bodies looked like when you recovered them. Torn to shreds, beaten, bloody, barely recognizable as human beings.

You let out a shaking breath as the guard pushed you onward.

Jesus, I'm so fucking sorry, Max

You repeated the thought over and over in your head. You knew what this would do to him- how it would tear him apart to find your broken body dumped in some pit like garbage.

The familiar whirring of the patrol done broke the silence, approaching fast from behind.

Too fast-

The machine struck the guard in the head at maximum velocity, sending him stumbling forward with a grunt.

"What the hell-"

The drone buzzed, menacingly, like an angry hornet, diving at the guard over and over, metal blades slicing into his skin as he held up an arm to defend his face.

"Hey, ya fuckin' drongo, havin' a little trouble with your drone?"

Mozzie.

You spun on your heel as the Aussie rounded the corner, assault rifle brandished. There was a loud crash as the wall in front of you exploded in a cloud of dust and Gridlock barreled through the opening with a roar.

The facility lost power and red emergency lights began to dance erratically as the alarms screamed to life. The guard at your feet made a motion to stand and Gridlock struck him with the butt of her rifle.

"Come on, we haven't got all day!" Mozzie yanked a jackknife from his pocket and cut the flexcuffs that encircled your wrists.

"Max-" you felt tears well up in your eyes as you looked into his polarized glasses.

"Don't get soft on me yet- we gotta get outta this fuckin' place."

The next moments were a blur as Mozzie and Gridlock flanked you and the three of you traversed the compound.

"We've got maybe three minutes before this place is swarming with Masks!" Gridlock called, "Jager is on the roof with the helo."

Gridlock ran point, up the stairs, as Mozzie stayed behind you. The three of you hightailed it up one, then two, then three flights of stairs. The alarms continued to blare, and you could hear the faint sounds of footsteps on the flights below.

"One more level!" Gridlock called.

The sounds of the footsteps were growing closer, and you could make out the shouting of the White Mask soldiers, growing louder and louder with each passing step.

You heard a loud grunt as Gridlock kicked the roof access door open and bright sunlight burst in, practically blinding you.

"Get to the helo, NOW!" she shoved you through the door and toward the black helicopter.

You leapt into the open door and Jager shot you a thumbs up from the cockpit. Mozzie and Gridlock jumped in behind you as at least two dozen White Masks pushed through the door, guns blazing.

"Go, go NOW!" Mozzie was shouting at Jager as he sent a burst of fire from his rifle and struck one of the soldiers.

The helicopter lurched off the roof and barreled away as shots rang off of the metal, growing more and more distant with each passing second.

"It's good to have you back!" Jager called from the pilot's seat.

"It's good to be back."

--

Back at the compound, you were sent to the infirmary, despite your fervent protests. Doc demanded you stay at least overnight to replenish your fluids and have your wounds looked at.

The other beds were empty, and you contemplated making a break for it when Max walked through the door. It always surprised you when he was devoid of his usual helmet and sunglasses.

The Aussie strode over and took a seat beside your bed; you avoided his eyes as guilt began to burn in your chest.

"Max..." you swallowed, hard, and finally brought your eyes to his, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Max cocked an eyebrow and chuckled, "The hell are you sorry for? I should have had your back."

Tears pricked in your eyes and the Aussie reached over to grab your hand. He ran his rough thumb over the cuts and bruises gently, his expression pained.

"How bad did they hurt ya?" Max sounded as if he was about to break down, his voice gravelly and low, so uncharacteristic for him.

"Not bad," you lied, poorly, and tried to tamp the memories down.

"I'd have killed every last one of 'em," Max murmured as his eyes flicked up to meet yours, "Me 'n Gridlock, we'd have fuckin' glassed that place."

"I know," you choked out the words- it felt like you had glass in your throat, "Thank you for coming for me."

Max smiled and moved his hand to your cheek, his fingers gently passing over the bruise that had blossomed on your chin.

"Anytime, love."

[melzula]

The Blue Spirit

pairing: Zuko x Princess!reader

warnings: angst, mentions of blood and injuries

request: could i request a princess!readerxzuko fire lillies blurb with the blue spirit ?

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

You knew better than to walk the streets of the lower ring by yourself at night, but you also knew that if you stayed another minute in that house you’d explode. Zuko’s sour mood was beginning to suffocate you, and you knew that if you didn’t give yourself the chance to cool off you’d feed right into his negativity and create a hostile environment in your new home, so you chose to excuse yourself from dinner and venture towards Miss Tai’s place in search of some company and an outsider’s perspective on your relationship troubles.

You understood that it would take Zuko some time to adjust to your new life as peasant refuges in Ba Sing Se, but sometimes it felt like he wasn’t even trying. Living in the lower ring was vastly different from the way you both grew up, but if you could get used to it then why couldn’t he? It didn’t matter what you said or did, he was constantly irritated and easily agitated and you were starting to second guess everything. Zuko would have to come to terms with his anger and shame in order to heal the years of heartache he’d endured, but the way in which he fought tooth and nail to hold onto the past had you questioning if you could ever truly have a future together. He loved you, that much you were sure of, but would you ever be enough for him? Could he stand to love you without his throne, without his father’s recognition?

“It’s a little late for you to be walking all by yourself, isn’t it?” A voice calls from the alleyway. You startle, so lost in the depths of your turmoil that you hadn’t even noticed you’d passed Miss Tai’s home and were now in a poorly lit, unsafe street. Three men appear from the shadows and just as you raise your arms to water bend a pair of hands hold your wrists in a tight grip and restrict your movements.

“Looks like we got a little water bender on our hands,” the man behind you chuckles.

“Get your hands off of me!” You protest as you thrash around in his hold. The man doesn’t budge, and a small gasp leaves your lips as you realize they’re beginning to close in on you.

“You know, you look a lot like that lost Princess they’ve been looking for,” one of the men points out. “I heard the Fire Nation would pay good money to whoever brought her in.”

“You’ve got the wrong girl,” you argue weakly, frantically glancing around in search of help. But the streets are empty, it’s too dry to pull water out of thin air, and with your hands restrained it seems you’re left completely defenseless. They’d hand you over to Azula and Ozai and then you’d be finished for sure.

“You’re close enough,” he chuckles. Tears well in your eyes at the thought of being taken away, of never getting the chance to see your family again, your home. The last memory Zuko and Iroh would have of you would be a moment full of bitterness and unhappiness before you stormed off, and you’d never get to say goodbye or express how much you cared for both of them.

“Let’s go cash in that reward,” their leader says with a smug smile, but before he can even take a single step forward he’s iswiftly swept off his feet and disarmed of his weapons by the masked assailant who stands above him. Your eyes meet the stoic face of the perpetrator and widen in recognition at the sight of him: the Blue Spirit. You always thought him to be a ghost, a fable passed between soldiers to scare fellow recruits, yet here he stood before you with his duel swords drawn at the ready. The men who hold you captive hesitate, but before you know it they charge towards your savior to attack.

You’re still kept in a tight grip by one of your captors, but you’re able to watch on in awe as the Blue Spirit fights off the thugs. His movements are quick and agile, fluid like a stream of water, and he has no trouble in scaring off his opponents until the only one left behind is the one who holds you in his grasp. You can feel the man tense, his hold loosening before he shoves you forward.

“H-Here, you can have her,” he insists. “She doesn’t even look like the Princess anyway!”

He runs off before the Blue Spirit can retaliate, leaving you alone with the mysterious stranger. You take in the silent man who stands before you, the haunting eyes of his mask seemingly staring straight into your soul, and it’s with a small gasp that you notice the trickle of blood that seeps from the gash on his bicep.

“You’re hurt,” you say, immediately reaching for his arm only for him to flinch away. A small frown plays upon your lips, your fingers cautiously extending towards him in the same manor you would approach a frightened animal, and this time he remains completely still. “Let me help you.”

There is no reply, and you take the silence as your cue to pull water from your pouch and focus it’s energy on the wound. Your eyes never leave the gash, but there’s a gentle smile on your face as you work in the comfortable silence you share with the spirit.

“Thank you,” you silently utter much to his surprise, “for saving me. I was so scared they were going to take me away from the people I love and send me off to the Fire Lord.”

Silence.

“You don’t talk much, do you?”

The Blue Spirit tilts his head at you, prompting you to laugh and causing his heart to flutter in his chest.

“Well, it’s nice to have someone who listens for once,” you note thoughtfully, your smile slowly dwindling to a frown. “That’s why I was out here in the first place. I had to get away from home because the person I love... well, he’s had a hard life, and often times he takes his anger out on others. I try to be supportive and understanding but I can only stand so much. Sometimes I wonder if he still loves me.”

It seems the Blue Spirit has heard enough due to the way he suddenly yanks his arm from your hold. The wound is healed and your life is no longer in danger, so it’s time for him to leave. Your eyes soften, almost as if you don’t want him to leave you, and a pang of guilt resonates in his chest at the sight of your disappointment. It seems he’s been disappointing you a lot as of late.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to talk so much,” you apologize. “It’s just... I don’t know, I can’t explain it, but there’s something about you that makes me feel comfortable enough to share my thoughts and my feelings, and I haven’t felt that way in a long time.”

His gloved hand reaches out to you almost hesitantly then, as if afraid he’ll hurt you, and before you can feel the touch of his fingers against your face he’s gone in a flash, leaving you all alone once again.

“Princess!” A voice calls. You turn to see a worried Iroh approaching you in a hurry, relief obvious amongst his features at the sight of you safe and sound. “Thank goodness you are alright. I was afraid something might have happened to you. It’s dangerous to be walking alone at this time of night.”

“I know, I’m sorry Iroh,” you profess quietly, eyes casted downward with guilt. The old man only smiles before gently resting a hand on your shoulder and escorting you back home.

“Let’s get you home before Zuko makes himself sick with worry,” he says with a small smile, one you return faintly before casting a glance over your shoulder. The streets are empty and your mysterious savior is nowhere to be seen; you won’t mention anything to Zuko or Iroh about what happened that night, but the memory of the Blue Spirit will stay with you forever.

~~~

Zuko watches from the rooftops as Iroh guides you back home, your curious gaze peeking behind you in search of the Blue Spirit. A part of him feels guilty for keeping this from you, for not revealing himself right away, but you had looked so peaceful in the Blue Spirit’s presence, and he hadn’t seen you smile like that since your arrival in Ba Sing Se.

How terrible of a boyfriend had he been that you had to find comfort in a stranger rather than in your own partner? Your words had struck something deep within him, and it was with a guilty heart that he made his way back home before you could notice his absence.

When you return Zuko is sitting silently at the table mulling over a cup of tea, but he rises instantly at the sight of your shaken form. Neither of you say a thing as he pulls you into his arms and buries his nose into your hair, holding you close and secure to chest.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers softly only for you to hug him even tighter.

“Me too...”

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