#ooh the parasitized one

[stupidcowboykid]

unevenly cast spells/potion effects/fairie blessings: often caused by ameteur casters/poorly-made/cheap materials/christenings gone awry. sometimes temporary but often with permanent effects; some parts of the body are made stronger than others, causing dislocations/tears/broken bones. speed spells cause a permanent limp, as one leg. anti-aging potion partially wears off, aging or deaging parts of your body/mind at various speeds

other spells gone wrong: sleepwalking/dreamwalking spells to increase productivity leaving you trapped half-inside your body or thrown into another plane of existence at random moments.

spillover/infectious enchantments -- use your 7 league boots too often and you may find one barefoot step taking you down a city block, or the temporary intangibility that allows you to clip through things while wearing them manifesting in everyday life

allergic interactions between magical artifacts/enchantments. dragon magic might just give you the shits-- but it might also cause uncontrollable bursts of magic from your own supply, torment you with visions, or turn your skin blue

amputation/loss of a locus or channeling force of magic (horn, tails, third eye, internal organ), whether at birth or in life, requires a replacement focus in order to practice

magical creatures born without necessary magical reserves needing to be fed magic constantly

lycanthropy, but its one of those ratty hairless dogs

shapeshifter selective breeding/inbreeding in small communities/reproductive competition (eg. male vs. male for prettiest feathers) leads to birth defects, overall trait changes (eg. bigger and bigger horns)

secondhand curse passed on through magical interactions with the original recipient

weakness to a specific disease or genetic issues in clones

shapeshifters, allergic to their animal counterparts. shapeshifters, intolerant of/allergic to the food their animal counterpart needs (or vice versa). shapeshifters have lots of issues

exposed nerve endings under dragon scales, making battleworn dragons more less mobile and more vulnerable than most

djinnis who are physically/emotionally tied to the state of their lamp-- damage to their lamps hurts them as well, and shoddy lamps decrease their capabilities

lowered magical sensitivity after exposure to constant high level magic workings

kept alive by magic, but not by breaking the curse/healing the wound. living through its effects (eg. boiling blood, stabbing, death by a hundred cuts, heart of stone)

speaking causes diamonds to fall from lips, as well as turning throat into something harder than the gems

consequences of a well-intended wish limit mobility or force proximity to things that fulfill it (wish to be famous -> drawn to danger, wish to stay out of trouble -> must follow the letter of spoken and unspoken law, over-encompassing definition of trouble)

psychic link aftereffects make your mind able and likely to reach out to random others'-- occasional overlap of thoughts with strangers or unconscious ability to move friends' limbs. increased succeptability to the desires of others

What are some chronic illnesses that can only occur in a fantasy setting?

[why-the-heck-not]

tulips !! they’re underrated

[wanderingpages]

Peach dying in the hospital and ur worst fear is writing bad smut?!?! Lmao crises averted babes don’t worry abt it ❤️❤️❤️

[eviltext]

ok. what do we watch next

[jiminiecrickets]

DOUBLE TEAM. JJK / M!READER

summary. vigilantism comes in many flavours. jungkook, you, and your parasite come together like a neapolitan sundae.

wc. 17k

tags. smut | mcu spider-man!jk, venom!reader, loootta plot. top reader, bottom jk, established relationship, college au, bloody violence at one point, basketballer!reader, sex toys, mention of handcuffs (on reader), oral, rimming (jk receiving), multiple orgasms, manhandling, venom takes over sometime so it's basically a threesome, size difference, rough sex, lots of come

note: here, the venom/reader biology is less of a suit and more like they morph between shapes at a molecular level to whatever extent they want (bit of body horror)

"wow, he's so handsome..."

"yeah, did you see his results last semester? i can see why he managed to get that internship so young. crazy."

"internship? i heard he was given a job there. like, actually – not as a coffee-and-clipboard boy. proper stuff."

dappled under the shade of a large oak tree, jungkook fixes the earbuds in his ears, scrawling down a few lines for his chemistry homework. he pauses to close his eyes, head bobbing as he jams quietly along to his music. he pushes his soft bangs back from his eyes, a breeze running its fingers gently through his loose locks.

"god, gorgeous and a genius... d'you think my mom would like him?"

"girl, go tell him your name before you start planning the wedding! he's not with anybody. it's the perfect time!"

a slender girl in a pleated tartan skirt and a cropped black vest top sidles up to the end of the bench. she tucks her hair behind her ear and smiles shyly, tilting down slightly in an effort to maintain discretion. "hi... can i talk to you for a moment?"

jungkook shuts his folder and rises to his feet, dusting off his blue jeans. he tosses his backpack over his shoulder and hurries down the small grassy mound, checking his cracked phone screen for the time. he slips past a girl in a tartan skirt and places his hand on your shoulder.

"hey, yn," he greets. "we still on for tonight's study sesh?"

you beam, brightening at the sight of him. you prop the basketball on your hip under your arm. "hey! yeah, of course. oh, i was thinking of bringing some sausage rolls to do in your oven, a chicken salad for 'dessert' – it's more chicken than salad, though, i gotta admit. you mind?"

"no, 'course not – as long as you share. speaking of, i'm starving." casually, he leans up and drops a kiss on your cheek, cupping your jaw. he begins to move off, walking backwards to give you a pointed look. "remember: my place, five-thirty! be there or be square!"

you roll your eyes, smiling fondly. "yeah, yeah – i love you!"

he turns around, forming a heart with his hands and pursing his lips. he nearly bumps into someone, apologising profusely with animated hands. you scoff and roll your eyes, shifting the basketball in your grip and turning back to the girl.

"sorry about that. what did you want to talk about?"

her face is beet red. "o-oh – um, i-it's okay. nothing. sorry to bother you."

you frown, inspecting her with concern. "are you sure? it's not a bother."

behind you, your teammates holler at you to get back in the game. you toss the ball at one and give them the finger. they 'ooh' back at you, laughing amongst themselves as they dribble the ball between them and take lazy shots at the hoop.

"they're animals. don't worry about them." you smile encouragingly at her.

she shakes her head, long hair swaying around her cheekbones. "n-no, it's okay! um – have a good day!"

before you can get another word in, she scampers off to her gaggle of friends, clutching her bag to her side as they engulf her and begin moving off to the library.

you scratch your head but shrug, turning back to the court. you jog towards the others, and they offer every greeting from 'good trip to venus?' to 'get off the fucking court'. you just huff, punching their shoulders, and catch the ball with a soft thump.

"sorry, sorry. i'll send them your way next time."

after your decidedly unrelaxed game, chasing jungkook into the campus centre's cafeteria is the next priority. you find him alone at a round white table, staring at his phone, held landscape.

you pull out a seat from a neighbouring table and flip it around, straddling it backwards as he takes out one earbud and smiles up at you. you nudge his arm and grin, tilting your head at his phone. "finally tracked down your scent. what're you watching, sweetcheeks?"

"local news." he squeaks his chair closer to yours and unplugs his earbuds from the jack, letting them dangle from the neck of his science pun shirt under a zip-up hoodie. "you know the new guy around these parts? a couple of criminals are saying his name is venom."

"venom? is he?"

"is he what?"

"venomous," you clarify. "he's certainly got the teeth for it."

jungkook snorts, grabbing his bottle of iced tea and balancing his phone against it. "i don't think so. he just scares the crap out of people. heard he used to make snacks out of people, though. metal."

"shame. venom powers would be neat," you reply, crossing your arms over the back of the chair and propping your chin on them. "what's the news talking about?"

"mostly, it's just gossip." he shrugs. "'is venom the new spider-man?' 'are spider-man and venom working together?' they say it's 'cause they share some similarities – methods of movement, areas of control. thoughts?"

you inhale deeply. "well, i can't say much, but i will admit that venom does look pretty damn sick." you point at the video clip the news story plays of a huge black figure loping along the sides of buildings. he grabs a cop cruiser in one clawed fist and hurls it at a supervillain, who currently rots away in the raft. "ooh, shit!"

jungkook scoffs, shoving your shoulder. he grins. "so you only like him because he looks cool? not because of his ideals or worldview or anything? i understand, i like 'em big, but you're being a little reductive."

"i'm just a pretty face. i am completely unable to consider anything deeper than the cool factor." you rake his lean body with your gaze and smirk. "have i told you how good you look today?"

"baby, you can't abuse your boyfriend privileges to get out of this debate," jungkook murmurs, leaning in against your lips with a smile. "what do you think of spider-man?"

"eh. six outta ten."

"six?" jungkook sputters, jerking away. "what? you – but he's totally more than a six! eight, at least! do you realise how much math he has to do on the fly while he's swinging around? and i think he looks pretty cool, y'know. the fact that his ears don't stick out of the mask is pretty high-tech, if you ask me."

"easily recognisable, unique silhouette, cool colours." you list them off on your fingers. "both spider-man and venom fit these categories. venom, however, has the intimidation stat maxed out."

"spider-man is totally intimidating," jungkook protests. "i don't like spiders. what if he has secret spider-controlling powers and can corral them into doing his bidding? that's terrifying."

"sure, if you have a thing against spiders. i will say, though: i like that he deals with petty crime. the avengers aren't gonna bother themselves with purse-snatchers and bike theft."

jungkook hums. "finally – something we can agree on. aliens aren't falling from the sky every day."

you share a smile and jungkook shuts off his phone, leaning closer and placing his arms across your part of the table. your noses touch, and he giggles softly as you capture his lips in a tease of a kiss. he tastes like the white icing of his bakery snack.

"wanna go back to yours early?" you murmur, nosing at his neck. his cologne is faint, light and fresh. he's always been sensitive to smell. "we can go out for dinner instead. or take out – i'm easy."

"yeah, i know you're easy," he teases, nibbling on your lower lip. "one kiss and you're already begging to come home with me."

you gasp, offended. "how dare you! just because i am captain of the basketball team and extremely sexy does not mean i am an expert in mattress brands. apologise."

"mm... no."

"apologise!"

"do you take cash," he rests his palm against the back of your neck, bringing your lips to his, "or card?" he ghosts his palm over the front of your pants.

"oh, you little minx," you growl playfully, grabbing his phone off of the table and him by his wrist. "c'mon. you got your helmet?"

he grins and nods, swinging his backpack over his shoulder. "right here."

"good." as you run out of the cafeteria, dragging your giggling boyfriend after you, you lean in, kissing the apple of his cheek. his skin is warm, flushed and pretty. "i'd fuck you in it if it didn't stop me from kissing you."

he gasps. "come again?"

"oh, you know i will be. now, on the bike – hold tight onto me. no hands in the pants this time."

he blows a raspberry, swinging your hands between your bodies. "buzzkill."

—

with a heavy thump, you drop your bag and jungkook's at the base of his desk. his tiny studio apartment is sparsely decorated, but you've come to view it as a place of simple peace and comfort. he clings to you easily, arms wrapped around your shoulders as you carry him to his king-single bed. it's not large enough to fit both of you side by side, meaning that jungkook tends to stack himself on top of you when he snoozes.

"i'm noticing you like to carry me everywhere these days," jungkook whispers, grinning as he sucks on your neck, bruising the skin.

"mhm," you reply breathily, placing him down on his bed and hovering an inch over his body. he wraps his legs around your thighs and pulls your crotch against his. "i've been working out my core. results are finally showing."

jungkook grins darkly, pushing your dark grey letterman jacket off of your shoulders. you help him, shrugging it off. "really? let me have a look, baby."

you kneel back and tug your shirt over your head, revealing planes of soft warm skin. jungkook moans at the sight, tossing off his own clothes all over his apartment in his hurry. he sits up, wrapping his arms around your middle, and plants kisses up your stomach and chest, leading to a soft peck on the bulb of your throat. it bobs as he tucks his face into the side of your neck, breathing in your scent with a soft hum. he draws back slightly.

"did you change your cologne, honey?" he lowers his face again, a cute furrow between his brows and a thoughtful pout on his lips. "you smell different."

"uh – no, i don't think so," you reply, struggling to keep your head on straight when jungkook's hands are venturing down the front of your pants. "could be a new formula."

"mm, yeah, you're right," he whispers, licking his lips as he grips your bulge a little harder, making your hips jolt into his palm. he grins, eyes twinkling with innocent amusement. "hah. you're cute when you're sensitive."

your cheeks warm at the sound of his smooth, lilting voice, dropped lower than usual. arousal stirs deep in your gut. "shut up..."

he coos, gazing up at you as he rests his chin on your sternum. "unused to compliments, baby?"

"n-no, i'm just... not used to people calling me cute."

jungkook's grin widens and he nibbles on his lower lip as he gropes your hardening length through the thick denim of your jeans, his own straining against the zipper. "big boys like you need more love. can i... give you some love?"

his cheeks tint pink when he says that last part, barely a whisper. he's so flirty, yet so shy, and it's a dichotomy you have yet to figure out. still, it's so endearing watching him blush at his own flirtations.

you nod wordlessly, only finding your voice after a moment or two. "yeah. please."

he giggles and tucks his knees under himself to touch his lips to yours. it's surprisingly chaste despite the way he's feeling up your cock, trying to locate every vein and curve through thick denim.

"i bought something the other day," he begins, stroking your hip as he grinds the heel of his palm into your bulge. "i was wondering if you'd like to try it out with me right now."

"you bought something...?" a dark urge to encircle his tiny waist with both hands and fuck him stupid nearly makes you black out. it fills you up from the centre outwards and rams against your ribs like taking huge lungfuls of air, one after another, without allowing yourself to breathe out.

the pressure vanishes as soon as it comes, simmering instead in the pit of your stomach. you kneel on the bed with shaking hands, reeling inside your mind.

"yeah. something for us to play with." he smiles. "or, something for me to play with and for you to enjoy."

"oh," you exhale, barely a wisp of a breath. "you want me to watch?"

your cock stirs at the idea. he's shown himself off for you before using just his hands, and even that felt thick with sin and filth. you don't know how you'd react if he used something else.

"yeah, but it isn't quite what you're thinking. you always please me and forget about yourself, and i wanted to do the same. it's really self-indulgent for me – i've been imagining this for a while. ah, maybe i should just show it to you instead of trying to be all cryptic and mysterious." he laughs at himself and motions for you to stay put. he swings his legs over the small bed and reaches for his bedside drawer, atop which lies a shoebox-sized black box. he picks it up and places it on the sheets in front of you.

with one hand on the edge of the lid, he lifts his gaze, which flickers nervously over your features. "if it's too much, you can just tell me and we won't ever have to talk about this again."

you shake your head. "it's okay. i just wanna know what it is. i can't stop staring at your lips."

with a chuff of laughter, jungkook licks his lips, a little shy. you've never been one to mince your words, and it's rather soul-baring. he can't help the flutter of his heart when he catches your quick glance down at his lips. "alright, alright... somebody's hungry tonight, isn't he?"

"mm, just for you."

jungkook lifts the box's lid and extracts, with only a second of hesitation, a clear silicone fleshlight.

you always please me and forget about yourself.

i've been imagining this for a while.

"you… want to use that... on me," you say, but it's almost a question with how your voice wavers on the last word.

jungkook nods silently.

"but... what about you?" your eyes widen slightly. "wait – is this because i've been really needy recently? are you tired? i'm sorry, i don't know what's gotten into me lately."

he shakes his head quickly. "no, not at all, baby! you could never tire me out – i think your neediness makes you cuter. yes, you're cute, don't give me that face – we went over this already. i just... want to see it more."

"that's why it's transparent?" you ask, unable to hide your amusement. "you want to look at my dick?"

he blushes all the way down his chest. "it's as good a reason as any! can you kiss me? my face is hot and i need a distraction."

like the good boyfriend you are, you oblige, cupping his cheek and drawing him into a slow, deep kiss, prodding your tongue into his willing mouth. he moans as your tongue slides against his own, soft and wet and hot. he places his hands on top of your thighs, your open jeans hanging low to reveal your apollo's belt cinching your hips. he ghosts his palm over the bulge in your boxers as he sucks lightly on your tongue and your whole body shudders like a ship crashing against rocks – the animal, guttural growl that bubbles from the pit in your stomach rumbles in his skull, ferocious lust nearing fury so intense and primal that for a moment jungkook doesn't think it comes from you. as if on instinct, you wrap your arms around jungkook's torso and yank him towards you, pulling his front against yours.

"f-fuck," jungkook nearly whimpers when he pulls away, lashes fluttering as he stares up at you, dark pupils swallowing his irises. he arches his back. you press the flats of your palms against the bumps of his spine. "i didn't know you could make a sound like that..."

"like what?" you murmur, panting softly as you slide your hands under his jeans over the curve of his ass. you push his pants down hurriedly, sloppier than usual. you just... really can't wait.

he shifts his knees to let you take his blue jeans off, his underwear tangled somewhere in the legs. he tilts his head as you bury your face in his neck and shuffle out of your own pants, leaving you both naked on jungkook's single bed – except for your socks. his bed's barely big enough for one person, and with both of you, you're struggling not to slip off. you'll have to be careful if you roll over.

"like... never mind." he shakes his head, staring down with tangible anticipation at the thick length bobbing between your thighs. he's not small, but fuck, you make him feel that way. "just c'mere, please."

"so polite," you chuckle, watching him squirt a generous amount of lube into the toy.

"only for you, honey," he hums. he holds the toy slightly away from his stomach, as if suddenly unsure what to do with it. his indecision only lasts for a moment before those big brown eyes raise to yours. "lay down. we'll do it this way."

"mm. can't refuse the view you'll give me."

he swings his leg over your lap, smiling shyly as he grips your length in one hand. he tears his gaze from yours to sink the entrance of the sleeve down around your cockhead, teasing the glans. he takes about a third of your cock into the toy, glancing up to gauge your reaction. he finds only pleasure in your expression and, emboldened, moves the toy faster, rolling his wrist the same way he strokes you. the toy squelches as it slides down around the middle of your shaft, lube dribbling down the veins of your dick.

"fuck, that's cold," you whisper, acutely aware of how your cock pulses.

jungkook places a soothing hand on your tense thigh, rubbing what you think is meant to be relaxing circles into your skin – except he does it a little too high, a little too close to your dick, and relaxing's the last thing on your mind.

"it's alright," he hums, "you'll warm it up."

you huff at his nonchalance but lay back down, tucking one hand under your head to help bolster his cloud-soft pillows. you could sink in his pillows, drown in them. your other hand rests on his bare thigh.

"good boy," he says cheekily, fucking your cock with the slick toy. it's knobbly on the inside, and almost too tight – but the pain's pleasurable, especially when he gazes down at you with such loving eyes.

"call me that again and i'll out-brat you," you mumble, hissing softly as he slides the toy all the way down. your throbbing cock leaks, and watching it through the silicone makes your skin flush. evidently, he feels the same, staring at it with such intensity you're not sure whether you should feel afraid or aroused.

you decide on the latter.

"you? a brat? you don't have it in you," he says dismissively, stroking and squeezing your balls. he pulls the toy off and swipes his thumb over your leaking slit, gathering all the precum he can. he brings his thumb to his lips and licks it clean.

god, it's always the quiet ones – always the shy ones. your boyfriend, with his alliterative name and baggy jeans and zip-up hoodies, used to be too nervous to initiate things with you – what if you weren't in the mood? what if you didn't find him attractive? but after the first time, after you worshipped his body and got drunk off his pleasure, you seemed to unlock something in him – something dirty and saccharine.

"what – mm – what do you mean?" you ask breathily, closing your eyes as he returns the toy to your length, the squelching lube and precum dripping down your shaft.

"you're too in love with me and too soft. you couldn't hurt a fly. besides, big boy, i noticed how you tensed up when i told you how good you were being for me. did you learn something about yourself?" he teases.

you shake your head, flushing slightly. "i just... like pleasing you."

jungkook's smile grows softer, less coy. his eyes crinkle as he leans down to kiss you briefly, humming gently. "i like pleasing you, too. you can come when you want – don't hold back for me, m'kay?"

"okay."

fuck... you've never seen a prettier sight than this, the angel on your lap totally focussed on making you feel good. he shuffles down your body until his face is level with your cock, and you give him a little more room to lay down by shifting to sit against the headboard. he smiles up at you gratefully, watching closer as the fleshlight swallows up your thick cock again and again. arousal swirls low in his belly as you groan lowly, head tipping back.

bent at the knee, his feet kick absently behind him, ankles crossed. he takes your balls into his hot, wet mouth, sucking softly at the velvety skin as his wrist twists firmly around your dick. he looks so innocent, but the things he's making you feel certainly aren't.

"you're... you're gonna make me come," you groan softly, "doin' that with your pretty mouth..."

"oh? so soon? are you just exceptionally pent up," he drags his tongue against the veins of your cock, "or are you more into this toy than i am?"

"no, you just – oh, shit – you look so good like that. you're so fuckin' pretty with those eyes, those gorgeous lips that i know're so soft – drives me damn near crazy, jus' wanna fuck you all the time—" you're babbling, you know that, feeling your high creep up on you mercilessly. it's almost embarrassing, you can last longer than this, but something inside you is just so damn hungry, so eager. it draws in your lust to a dark bottomless pit in your stomach, gorged with all the pleasure jungkook's giving you but still greedy for more, more, more.

you reach down and hastily twirl jungkook's hair into a short, messy ponytail. you pull him into you, making him moan and his hips jerk – he sucks on your balls, taking each into his mouth one at a time, pumping your cock until the toy leaks with your precum, dripping with it. he licks it up wantonly, gliding his hot tongue over your veins until the whole thing glistens with saliva and lube.

he pants softly, stroking your cock faster until your whole body aches with the will not to give in – you grip the wooden headboard above you to ground yourself, struggling not to lose to the heat and wetness of jungkook's mouth and touch.

you can't. you're better than this. but god is your mind foggy with lust, feeling him lap at your balls like an overexcited puppy, feeling his toy grip your cock so enthusiastically. you want to feel him around you, feel his heat, his walls, real tight and greedy – want to taste him, lick the sweat off his hips, taste your own come on his lips like some filthy exchange of power, prove to him that you're the only one he wants, the only one who'll take such good care of him—

the dam crumples. your spine arches; the world goes white.

when your eyes flutter open – you swear you didn't close them – jungkook's sitting up, dazed and wearing the heaviest blush you've ever seen on him, red from his chest to his ears. his chest heaves, his breath shaky, and a few smears of what looks suspiciously like come cover his cheeks and neck. he hasn't wiped it off yet.

"b... baby..." jesus, your voice is fried. you clear your throat, rather painfully, and try again. "why're you lookin' at me like that...?"

he doesn't say anything for a moment, those huge doe eyes stuck on you. finally, he tears his gaze away, covering his mouth slightly – a jerky half-move that suggests he doesn't really know what to do with himself.

"um," he says softly, his voice a little unsteady, "th-the... the toy – it broke..."

after a second, you frown, still dopey and cotton-brained. maybe you should've done something in the last two weeks instead of postponing it until you could next get jungkook alone. "what? what do you mean, it... broke?"

he extends it to show you. down the side is a long crack, and the closed end is split open. you don't know what to say – you don't know what anyone would say – but by the way jungkook's looking at you, it's clear he wants something.

"do you think they'd refund us for a faulty product?"

clearly, that's not the right thing to say, because he pouts aggressively.

"you got bigger when you came," he mumbles, sweeping his index finger over his cheek and sticking it in his mouth as he glances up at you. he doesn't know how much that casual motion affects you. "like... real big. i didn't know your voice could get that deep, either. it was... kinda hot..."

you don't... remember talking... "did i say something?"

"mm. you pushed my head down and told me i looked good like that. that i was good to you – to us."

"us?" you repeat, an empty dread dropping in your stomach like a stone. you try to hide your dismay, but jungkook has always been particularly receptive to your emotions. either that, or you're just really easy to read.

"it's okay, why are you afraid? it didn't hurt, if that's what you're worried about. i like it when you're rough."

something in the back of your mind preens at that. you shake your head. "alright – yeah. just – i'm sorry for ruining it. i'll pay you back for it."

"don't worry about it. you paid for our last few dinners, so think of this as my turn to pay." he giggles and flushes, leaning closer and straddling your waist. "besides... i got something out of it, too." he takes your hand and places it on his toned stomach. you have to think past the firm muscle of it to notice that it's warm and sticky. he slides his bottom lip between his teeth to hide his flustered grin. "i really like it when you're rough."

it's enough to make your dick twitch to life again, but part of you is still rattled by how easily you just... gave up control.

"i'm glad you liked it," you say softly, "but i don't want to do that again. i don't want to hurt you."

he scoffs, grinning as he comes to sit beside you, shoulder-to-shoulder and hip-to-hip in his narrow bed. "you couldn't hurt me if you tried, baby. i'm stronger than i look. but okay – i get it. do you wanna cuddle in bed for a while, catch our breath?"

you hum softly, burying your head in his shoulder. he strokes your hair. "yeah... but maybe after a shower."

he laughs softly, pushing you off the bed towards the bathroom. he splays out on his back to make sure you don't come creeping back into his arms. "what, city boy, can't handle a little mess?"

"of course, hate that shit. i'd live in a lab if i could."

"how scientist of you. i can see why you joined the life foundation – the entire place looks like a hospital, just with more skylights."

"mm, definitely feel like a doctor, scrubbing my arms up to the elbows every day." you pick up a towel from the stack in jungkook's wardrobe.

"sounds fun. maybe i'll join you, scrub your arms for you."

"don't," you say quickly. you clear your throat, wiping the panic from your voice. "you'll ruin your pretty hands working there. all the soap makes even moisturising painful."

he arches a brow, but doesn't say anything. instead, he hums and turns his gaze to the ceiling. "guess i'm stuck with mister stark, then."

"hey, they're doing some cool stuff with prosthetics right now, and you get to fix the avengers' gear. the avengers, man. you shouldn't sound so sad. have you met thor yet?"

"not yet. the guy's a prince – pretty sure he was better things to do than say hello to some puny human."

"ah, well. at least you're doing something – i'm wasting my life away being someone's assistant."

he watches you for a while as you gather new clothes from your drawer in his wardrobe. he rolls onto his side to keep watching you when you move out of his vision.

"are you okay, honey?" he asks quietly, gazing up at you. "are you still upset over the toy? i told you, i don't mind. it was kinda hot, to be honest..."

you glance over your bare shoulder. he bats his eyelashes and winks. you huff. "you think everything i do is hot. i could sit down and you'd drool over my posture or something."

"how'd you know i like the way you sit? you take up so much space. in a good way, of course! i – i wish i had your confidence."

you soften at the very real vulnerability he displays. not just everyone gets to know his thoughts and feelings. you glance at the towel in your hand and back at him – with a soft sigh, you set your clothes aside and return to the bed, smiling as jungkook's face lights up like a star.

"oh, that was easy," he says flirtatiously, stroking his fingers up and down your chest as you lay down next to him on the pillows.

"i'm your boyfriend, i'm trained to do this," you hum, bearing the discomfort of the chilly stickiness for jungkook's soft gaze, trained on you. the playfulness falls from your tone as you reach up and brush a lock of hair out of his eyes. "you're so beautiful, you know that?"

he giggles bashfully and turns his face into your shoulder, shuffling closer to hide his red cheeks. "gosh, what a charmer. did i do something to turn you all mushy?"

you shrug, cuddling him close to your chest. "not particularly. looking at you just makes me really, really happy."

his eyes crinkle as he smiles, leaning up and kissing your throat. "you big sap... i love you, too."

you bury your nose in his soft dark mop of hair and close your eyes. you don't want to think about how small he feels in your arms, your little finely-muscled dancer. you don't want to think about how easily he can take over now, and how fragile jungkook would be if he wrapped his hands around him.

you only let the feisty parasite stick around so you can better protect jungkook. sure, you have to keep it well-fed with brain matter in exchange, but anything's a fine trade if you can keep your darling safe. with all these genocidal aliens and egomaniacal scientists running about, to make sure this one particular civilian doesn't get trapped under a fallen building, you can't count on anyone else except yourself.

—

no matter how many times jungkook gets slammed into concrete, getting mashed through three floors of an office building in lower manhattan will never stop hurting like hell. even his pride is a little bruised – getting so beat up by the scorpion was almost embarrassing. he'd managed to subdue mac gargan – again – but his mind had been elsewhere during the fight, leading to gargan landing more than a few avoidable hits.

he stumbles slightly when he lands on the fire escape with a soft thump. gripping his bleeding side, he pushes his bedroom window up and slips inside, hissing as a broken rib pokes a nerve. he shuts the blinds of his window and pulls off his mask, breathing easier without it.

finding the time to fix his suit is going to be a pain. he has so many assignments due and so little time.

he limps out of his darkened bedroom, bracing against the door frame for support. he flicks on the bathroom light with a sigh and wanders over to the sink, sparing a glance into the mirror.

great: a big ol' bruise on his cheek, little cuts all over. nothing would heal in time for his chem lab the next day.

he peels the suit off his upper half, too sore to even attempt bending down to pull it off his legs. turning in the mirror shows him the massive purple bruise covering his back and shoulders, green around the edges. he makes a face and it hurts.

guess he's sleeping on his stomach tonight. he pulls the mirror forward, opening up the cupboard behind it, and raises himself onto his toes to reach the first-aid kit on the top shelf, right next to your shaving razor and other bathroom essentials. the small green bag is stuffed full to bursting with gauze, antiseptic, and thread, and maybe it was a blessing to live in criminal-infested new york because you never asked why he had so much on hand.

keys jingle. "hey, baby? are you home already?"

shitshitshitfuckshit—

you peek around the bathroom entrance, your hoodie singed around the edges and smelling faintly of rocket fuel. you frown at the opened first aid kit, cotton pads and saline sitting by the sink, and turn briefly to set the groceries down in the kitchen behind you. you enter the bathroom and glance around at only white tile and glass.

you glance up behind the door and jump three feet out of your skin.

"jesus christ—! what the fuck?" you shout.

jungkook motions haggardly, pressing his finger to his lips with wide eyes. he's backed into the corner of the ceiling – what the fuck – wearing the red-and-blue suit of new york's spider-man – what the actual fuck– and looks like he lost a fight to a brick wall.

what. the. shit.

"pleasepleaseplease don't scream," he whisper-shouts. "sh-shh-shh – let's be normal about this!"

"normal?" you hiss, aggression bleeding into your fear. "ex-cuse me?"

"just don't yell! please." he drops down from the ceiling with one hand and you jerk back, the scene in front of you proven real. "you weren't supposed to find out this way."

"weren't supposed to – this way – what?"

he presses on the spider in the centre of his chest and the whole thing loosens like a deflated balloon, hanging off of his bruised arms. "honey, please don't be angry—"

"angry? angry?" you bark out an incredulous laugh. "i'm fucking furious! you're spider-man? my boyfriend is spider-man?"

he swallows harshly, lowering his gaze to stare at his feet. he nods almost imperceptibly.

"spider-man's been around for years. how long have you been doing this? since fifteen, sixteen?"

"four – fourteen..."

silence.

"you're mad," you say flatly. "actually mad. fourt—" you pinch the bridge of your nose. "you know what, instead of getting upset about how young you were when you first went about punching bike thieves for funsies, i'm going to get upset about the fact that you're bleeding all over yourself. what happened to you?"

"it wasn't for fun," he mumbles. "it was a morals thing. and, um, scorpion tried killing the ol' triple-jay, so i had to step in. the police should have him by now."

"the scorpion? well, we'll be seeing you on tonight's news, then. i'll be able to see exactly how he got you so messed up."

he flushes at your accusing tone, rubbing the back of his neck. "i'm sorry, honey. i meant to tell you… i just didn't know how, or when. i was so scared of the wrong people finding out and… and hurting you."

slowly, you release a deep sigh, and with it goes your anger. "the last thing you should be worried about is anyone hurting me. you should be worried about you. is this what you look like after every fight?"

he shakes his head. "it's not usually so bad. he just got some lucky hits in. i heal quickly, anyway."

placing a tentative hand on his cheek, you turn his face this way and that to examine his wounds. your hand shifts to take the point of his chin under your thumb and he stares up at you with such sweet, sorry eyes, brimming with glossy apologies.

"can't you put down the mask?" you almost plead. "let someone else do it. someone who's got more help than you do."

"who, like the avengers? they only really do world-ending threats, and for all gargan's bluster, he's not that."

you cup his neck and gently run your thumb over his jawline, careful of his wounds. "you… you mean so much to me. i love you something crazy," you whisper, voice dropping to a raw, almost tired rasp. he closes his eyes and wraps his arms around you, resting your foreheads together. "i know i'm selfish, but i don't want to lose you."

"i'll always come home," he murmurs. "i promise. for you, nothing could keep me away. someone has to keep greedy people out of your pants."

you can't help but loose a weak chuckle at that. "i'm yours, baby. will you let me patch you up?"

he nods, gripping your shoulder as you help him step out of the suit. he sucks in a breath when he bends too far in a certain way but attempts a smile when you glance up at him.

"don't worry about it. you'll make me right as rain in no time, won't you, doc?"

"you're going to make me grey with worry," you mumble, straightening up and reaching for the cotton pads and antiseptic. those cuts need tending to. you dab the damp cotton pad onto his brow, gently holding his head in place by cupping the nape of his neck. "hold still, baby."

"'m sorry. stings a little."

"how's it going to feel when i get to that massive scrape on your side?"

he winces at the idea. "if you leave it alone, it'll heal by itself…"

"you beggin' me to not touch it? thought you were the amazing spider-man."

"spider-man eats punches and springs back up with a quip. jungkook gets sweaty hands when approaching the cashier. jungkook's a bitch when it comes to pain."

your hand pauses slightly, then presses harder than necessary on his busted lip. he flinches and whines. "you're still you in the suit, sweetheart. if spider-man can take it, so can you."

"thure," he mumbles thickly, the cotton pad obscuring his words. you move onto the tiny cuts caused by flying shards of glass and he braces himself, gripping your forearms tightly. "so… you're not mad anymore…?"

"no, i'm still furious," you reply. "i just want you in one piece before i rip into you."

he has the gall to giggle nervously. "that's a joke, isn't it?"

you glance down at him and he quietens, suitably chastised.

eventually, after taking care of his wounds and sitting him down at the small dinner table to make him a cup of hot chocolate, you speak up. "every time you came home with a black eye or split lip and told me you got mugged on the way home or tripped on the stairs, it was because of spider-man, wasn't it?"

jungkook fiddles with his sweater sleeves. "yeah."

"you lied to me."

he picks at a loose thread and swallows. "yeah…"

"i always wondered how you healed so fast." you set down the steaming mug in front of him and take a seat across from him, watching him cup the mug in both hands and take tiny sips from it. you cross your arms and look away.

that's the last thing you say for a long while. you stare at the table, mouth twitching every so often as if you want to say something but can't find the right words for it.

"i want to go to bed," you say suddenly, rising to your feet as if pulled by puppet strings. "it's been a long day. come… come join me when you're ready."

jungkook nods and his throat bobs, turning his gaze into the swirling whirlpool in the mug. he whispers, "okay, baby. i'll be there."

you nod and take a step backwards, then another, before turning around and heading into jungkook's bedroom, shutting the door behind you.

jungkook stares at the closed door for a while. he can hear you mumbling, then pausing, and mumbling again, but even for his enhanced hearing, it's too quiet for him to discern. he doesn't know if he wants to know at all – it's probably better if he doesn't know what you're thinking.

he sighs softly, swirling the remnants of his not-so-hot chocolate in his mug. at least you don't hate him, which is more than he could have asked for. you're sleeping in his room, too, and that must mean something.

he hopes you won't leave in the morning.

—

it always starts as a normal day. things don't turn out as you hope they will.

"spider-man's here! spider-man's fighting the sandman!"

you'd been sitting in a ramen restaurant, sipping a pineapple smoothie with your noodle bowl, when the ground-shuddering booms grew close enough to be noticeable. the tv wired up against the wall showed the developing story, with helicopter shots showing flint marko's massive sandy form, bellowing in fury at the tiny red-and-blue figure thwipping around the skyscrapers to avoid hurled cement and rebar.

you can see the same thing out the restaurant window.

civilians scatter, panic and chaos causing a din. people shove past you, and the smart ones don't hang around to whip out their phones. you can taste the dryness in the air, the thick desert-like heat compressing inwards and crackling in your fingertips. sand-marko roars in rage and surges forward like a wave, crumpling cars like tissue paper.

YN.

the low, grating voice is loud in your head, overruling every scream in every direction.

THAT'S A BIG BAD GUY. LET'S FIGHT HIM.

"i'm looking at that church tower, man. he's getting close. the bell's the perfect shape to throw."

COWARD, venom roars in your head. YOU WON'T FIGHT TO SAVE OUR SPIDER?

"i'm not a coward," you snap, dodging an i-bar thrown like a javelin. it pierces the restaurant window. "he's got it covered. he's fought sandman a few times, knows his weaknesses."

if he could, venom would narrow his eyes at you. WE KNOW WHO HE IS. WHY CAN'T HE KNOW WHO WE ARE, YN?

"because we've killed people," you hiss, sprinting towards marko's mammoth form. a barefoot woman in a business suit screams for help, fruitlessly tugging the arm of another woman pinned inside the foyer of a law firm's brick building. "heroes don't do that."

venom forms a simple black face mask and cap over your face to hide your identity a little more. a large pile of concrete chunks from the caved-in floors above trap the woman in a tiny space under a table, where she'd dived for cover. you reach out and an oily black tendril shoots out, smashing a falling chunk of concrete to dust before it can crush the barefoot woman. she doesn't notice among all the other falling debris outside and spots you.

"please, help us!" she cries with a face smeared with ash. "her leg's pinned!"

you run up to them, gripping the edge of the largest chunk of concrete, snapped steel bars sticking out at angles. venom envelops your fist and spreads along the underside of the chunk, giving you more leverage to push it high enough to allow the woman to crawl through. her left leg is smeared with blood, soaking into her pantyhose. she limps out, leaning heavily on the other woman, who stares mutely as you set the concrete slab back down with a grunt and venom slinks back into your skin.

"thanks," she whispers, finding your eyes under the cap. you nod silently, and she helps the other woman hobble out of the ruin that once was a building.

you turn your attention back to the sandman. he's further away, and you notice how jungkook's leading him towards buildings with water towers. most of them are apartment complexes, and with the speed they're moving, there's going to be no shortage of civilians in danger.

"we'll focus on getting people out. spider-man will focus on wrangling the sandman. teamwork makes the dream work." you race towards marko, dodging all the people running the opposite way. if you were smart, you'd follow them, but you're not smart, and venom roars encouragement and puppets your body in the direction of civilians in need when you miss them.

with a bellow like a thousand boulders through glass, marko smashes jungkook through the roof of the train station, the famous, golden grand central terminal. you happen to be there, helping a family find each other through the chaos.

when jungkook wheezes and struggles to his feet, his gaze passes over you – then snaps back. the eyes of his mask widen, and he looks as if he's about to run to you – before marko slams him along the ground with a huge fist of sand.

there are still civilians in the station, trapped underground where the floors have caved in on the stairs to the platforms. on the lowest level, you manage to nudge aside a large piece of steel and concrete, reaching down to a terrified father cradling two little boys in his arms. they flinch back when the debris shifts dangerously, sand swirling in the air above.

"take them," the man pleads, "take my kids – please! i'll wait it out down here. i won't make it through that gap."

"are you kidding?" you shout above the din of battle and distant sirens, eyes widening. booms shake the ground and the walls, reverberating in your bones. "the tunnels might collapse!"

"i'll take that chance," he calls back, ushering forward his older son. he turns to him and grips his shoulder. the boy's in tears, babbling to his dad not to leave him. grimly, he pushes him towards you, and the boy hangs off of your arm as you lift him next to you through the gap in the debris. it's barely big enough for the width of his shoulders, and it'll take too long to clear it all before marko might do something that'll crush or suffocate you all.

the man lifts the infant towards you. you strain to reach for the crying baby, hidden tendrils of black mass extending out of your back and shoulders focussed on keeping the weight off of you and the child sobbing next to you. you take the baby under the arms and hold him to your chest, feeling venom form a wrap carrier around the child. he has enough foresight to turn your jacket into the wrap for appearances later.

the air is getting hot, hard to breathe through the dust, and venom shapes a simple face mask over the baby's mouth and nose to filter the air. the baby stops crying almost immediately with his influence.

with another rattling boom shaking your roots, you peer through the hole, gripping the back of the older boy's sweatshirt to keep him close and steady. "i'm coming back. stay alive."

with that, venom leverages the steel frame away, allowing you to crawl out from beneath it. the young boy clutches your belt as you hurry up what remains of the stairs, coughing in the dry, sandy air.

"vee, how's the baby?" you mutter, running along the lengthy platforms while the fight rages overhead. with every heavy smash, concrete and tiling dust your shoulders, trickling from hairline cracks in the ceiling.

CALM.

"okay… kid, when we get up there, you have to close your eyes and mouth, alright? try not to eat any sand."

he sniffles and nods, his grip tightening with resolve.

grand central and several nearby blocks are ruined with huge piles of sand blown into the corners, making the ground hard to run across. the boy slips a few times but you're always there to haul him back up.

half of your attention is on spider-man. even as you're lifting a displaced i-bar from a nearby construction site from the entrance, one eye is on the tiny red-and-blue figure zipping around and a shrinking sandman. marko's patches of dark sand slough off in heavy cascades, enraging him – making him desperate.

you run the children to a nearby police blockade, which is little more than two or three cars parked haphazardly across the road. a fire engine is parked nearby – the older boy screams, "mom!" and stumbles towards a woman in firefighter gear. with the way they embrace and the woman checks him for injuries, you don't have much worry bundling the now-crying infant up in his blanket and pressing him into her arms. you don't wait for swapped words or even eye contact before spinning on your heel and running back towards the ruins of the train station.

"flint! you have to stop this!" jungkook shouts, crashing another water tower down onto him. "what's going on, man?"

"i can't stay here!" marko bellows, his voice like the whip of a hurricane. he flings a billboard at jungkook, which he deftly dodges. "i won't!"

"what are you talking about? why not?" he threads the needle between slabs of debris swirling in marko's storm. "marko, you're going to hurt people!"

in response, he roars, whipping up a sandstorm into a single spear-like point, and hurls it down towards jungkook.

he dodges, pulling himself out of the way just in time, but you don't have his spider-sense. the shaft of the beige spear thrusts through your heart.

jungkook's senses explode until his ears ring. he looks back and screams.

the father's hand slips in yours as your grip loosens. he cries out in horror and blood stains the compressed sand, dripping from the tip.

you can't breathe. the sand collapses where it sits, including in the gaping wound the size of a beer bottle. frantically, venom floods the wound, pushing out the contaminants and creating and stitching your cells back together. but with his attention already divided through holding two tonnes of steel off your back and bolstering your strength to lift the man with one hand, he has to choose his battles. he chooses you – you can feel the power draining from you, your hand slipping around the father's.

you blink, hard, to rid yourself of the dizziness and nausea rising in your gut as venom stitches your heart and lungs and bones back together. you stare down at the man, whose terrified face is splattered with your blood. "i'm going to pull," you rasp, blood spilling from your lips. "your family's safe."

and you pull. you pull and pull, twice as hard because your hands are wet with blood and sweat, and the man finally manages to grab the edges of the hole and clamber out, collapsing beside you.

you push him weakly, hands feeling fat and rubbery. "go," you cough, able to feel the air on your exposed heart. you push him again. "go."

the floor of the station crumbles into a sinkhole over you, blocking you into a tiny space. you slump over, blinking hard with your forehead against the ground to rid yourself of the black spots swimming into your vision.

a cry of your name, and light spears down onto you. jungkook roars with effort as he hauls six feet of steel and concrete off of you and it crashes into the wall of the train station, crumbling into pieces.

he wraps an arm around you and webs the ceiling, lifting you out and hiding behind a corner. he falls to his knees, dragging you towards him by your shoulders with a sob.

"b-baby," he sobs, tremors wracking his shoulders. "baby, no, no, oh, god, i'm so sorry – baby, please—"

he peels back your black jacket and a wail rips through him at the sight. you keep your bleary gaze on the red of his mask, feeling venom squirm inside your cells, beating on the walls to let him out, to heal you. by sheer fucking willpower you manage to hold him back, burning him whenever he comes too close to the edges of your wound. he roars inside your head, slamming his will against yours in an effort to subdue you, knock you out of the driver's seat.

NO! STOP FIGHTING ME!

he can't know. it would break him.

your lips part to speak. your throat is dry, your tongue too big for your mouth. "you sh-should… go fight that bad guy…"

NO!

jungkook rips off his mask. he can't breathe, and his world crumbles around him. tears stream down his cheeks and throat. he gasps, breaths short and wheezing, and cradles you close, rocking your body against his. "no," he hiccups, gloved hands shifting down your chest to clear the cloth around the hole that goes right through. he can see the blue of his suit through it and bile rises in his throat. "no!"

"it's okay," you sigh raggedly, reaching up and groping for his face. you can't see much in the blurry darkness invading your vision. "s'okay… 's okay. you can win this. c-come find me… later…"

"fuck that!" he cries, gripping you tighter and obsessively running his hand through your sandy hair, pressing his lips to your temple. his tears are wet and cold against your skin, a small reprieve from the suffocating heat.

he clutches your hand to his cheek, pinning it there. his dark eyes glimmer with fat tears, and you can't help but think it's beautiful how his lashes clump together and the reflections waver in his eyes like the starry sky in a lake. "i'm sorry. i'm so sorry," he whimpers. "i love you. i love you. please – p-please don’t go, please don't leave me – don't close your fucking eyes!" he screams when your gaze slips from his to blink slowly up at the ceiling, each blink getting heavier and heavier; the voice in your head gets harder to ignore. he presses his palm over the gushing wound. "no, no, no, no, no—! i-i can fix this, okay, you'll be okay! i can fix—"

a massive sandy club slams into him. he cracks the wall with the force and he groans as he peels himself out of the crevices, his limbs wobbly and his head ringing.

sandman is smaller now, human-sized. he grips his weapon, and in his hands it transforms into a battleaxe, the blade edges gleaming as he compresses it to razor-sharp glass.

jungkook glances aside, where your body lays crumpled and limp, dark oily blood pooling under your shoulders. he looks back at flint marko and all he sees is red.

he doesn't use his webs, doesn't wall-crawl. he lunges like a panther and drives his fists into his face, his screams of agony tearing his throat up ten times over.

over and over. over and over.

marko groans weakly, his face swollen and bruised. his lips are thick and purple, blood and saliva spilling onto the floor.

jungkook knows the bones of his hands are cracked. he can feel them grinding against each other, but the pain doesn't register. all he knows is that a villain is still alive, and that his best friend is not.

he raises his fist, flexing his hand. his chest heaves. he wonders what sandman would look like if he didn't hold back. he might knock off his head.

that sounded good.

his fist comes down – and halts.

jungkook tugs. a large hand tightens around his wrist. he raises his eyes.

large, filmy white eyes stare down at him, a grinning mouth like a red slash filled with too-big teeth widening slightly.

"HELLO, PRETTY SPIDER," venom purrs, eight-foot-tall body blocking out the hazy sunlight. "LET'S TALK."

jungkook makes a sound between a gasp and a retch as he pats his face and finds only skin. "my mask—"

"DON'T BOTHER," interrupts venom, tugging jungkook's wrist and pulling him off of marko's limp body, whose chest still rises and falls shallowly. "WE ALREADY KNOW WHO YOU ARE."

"you do?" jungkook rasps, on his knees and still swaying dangerously. "'we'…?"

venom's long scarlet tongue lolls out of his mouth as he grins. those murky white eyes are hard to track. "HE DOESN'T WANT YOU TO KNOW HIM. EVEN NOW HE SHOUTS AT ME." his eyes narrow and he glances aside. "BUT I CAN PUT HIM BACK TO SLEEP IF HE WANTS IT."

jungkook swallows, his eyelids heavy and his body begging to lay down and rest. he cradles his ruined fists, blood seeping through the cloth.  "i don't… i…"

the monstrous, grating voice almost seems to soften. "ALLOW ME TO HEAL YOU."

he offers a large clawed hand. his skin is black and oily, somewhere between flesh and liquid. it never stays in one place for long, swirling and smoothing over in faint patterns like mixing thick paint. heart in his mouth and mind in pieces, jungkook places his hand in venom's.

the black oily goo begins to spread over venom's knuckles, seeping into jungkook's suit and skin. the feeling is cold and damp and jungkook panics, scratching at his skin and yanking his arm back, but venom holds fast, and his inhumanly bulky body begins to shrink – down, down. oily blackness gives way to soft human skin.

you gaze back at jungkook, eyes apprehensive and sorrowful. his hand lays in yours. you lick your lips, glancing down at the black shirt and jacket over your heart. like it never even happened.

"hey," you greet softly, your voice a comforting low rumble.

jungkook stares up at you: still, silent, unseeing. his eyes well with tears, and he doesn't move, his gaze doesn't shift, as they slip down his cheeks, creating new clean tracks over his dusty, bloodstained cheeks.

your lips quirk up mirthlessly. "look like you've seen a ghost."

"no," he whispers in a voice like sandpaper. he yanks his hand away and rubs his eyes roughly until stars and colours bloom in his vision. "no, no, i'm going crazy, oh, god—" his voice cracks on the last word, his shoulders shaking.

you fall to your knees, taking his hands firmly in yours and pinning them to his sides. "look at me. look at me, baby," you whisper, "open your eyes."

stubbornly, they remain screwed shut. he shakes his head constantly, his shoulders hunching over. venom returns to you, black tendrils trickling back between the cells of your body.

you sigh, glancing down at your entwined hands. you link your fingers with his. "you're probably disgusted with me, i know. you've read the reports, watched the news. you know what i am – what we are. we're not a hero like you are. i understand if you don't want me to be your boyfriend anymore."

at that, he lets out a terrified little gasp and his eyes shoot open.

"there we go," you murmur. "but i was telling the truth. we aren't compatible."

"shut up."

you glance up. "what?"

"shut up," he repeats, louder. his voice is shaky. "i'm… you're… i'm still processing the first part. slow down. please."

"what first part?"

his head snaps up, the anger in his expression taking you by surprise. "the fucking part where you aren't fucking dead!"

his voice echoes in the empty train station, half-ruined and buried in sand. his chest heaves after the outburst.

he exhales shakily and sits back on his heels, turning his hands over and pressing his thumbs against his knuckles. there is no pain, no grinding broken bones. "i… just let me…"

he sways on the spot and keels over. you rush forward and catch him, cradling him in your arms.

"baby," you whisper, shaking him slightly. "baby."

the sirens of police cars swerving on the gritty roads outside catch your attention. once they've secured the civilians, they'll be closing in on marko quickly, and he doesn’t look like he's in any position to wake up soon, let alone fight back. you glance down at jungkook's limp body, his eyes closed and lips parted slightly.

you shift him in your arms and lift him easily, walking past the pool of your own blood. the red spider-man mask sits crumpled on the ground, and a black tendril scoops it up as you move past it. with each step, venom grows, engulfing your body until it's just him cradling jungkook's small body in one muscular arm. he exits the train station and lifts a hand, shooting a thick black webby tendril into the air and launching himself up, away from the sirens and the journalists' chatter.

—

when jungkook opens his eyes again, he's staring at the golden sky. the sun is about to touch the horizon behind pillars and pillars of glassy skyscrapers.

a hand cards through his hair, gentle and familiar. he turns his head.

you smile down at him, hair tussling in the wind. you're wearing a different set of black clothes. his zip-up hoodie slips down his shoulder and you pull it back up.

"morning, sleepyhead," you hum, combing his unruly hair with your fingers. "feeling better?"

he blinks, bleary-eyed, at his shoes. "what…? how did i…"

"you passed out after fighting sandman. we headed home long enough to grab you a jacket and then we decided to bring you up here, away from the hubbub of the city streets. thought you'd appreciate it." you glance up, gazing at the sunset. "can't deny that view, either."

"'we'," jungkook repeats, his thoughts chugging slowly. he blinks and shoots upright, staring back at you with huge brown eyes. "oh my god. you're that guy. you're venom."

"half of him, yes," you agree, watching him carefully.

he turns back around, staring at his lap. part of him wants to throw up. another part wants to scream, and yet another wants to leap into your arms, cry, and pass out again.

instead, he turns back to you. "tell me how it works."

"how venom works?"

jungkook nods, turning to face you fully. he folds his legs under himself.

"well—" the words get jumbled up in your head. where could you even start?

THE BEGINNING.

so you do. the lab breach, the symbiosis achieved, the fight with riot and the rocket. jungkook listens attentively, nodding along but otherwise quiet. sometime during your recounting, he slides closer to you, sharing the air conditioning unit as a backrest. he tucks his knees up against his chest and wraps his arms around them, resting his head against your shoulder.

when you finish, you sit in silence for a time, wondering if you've missed anything. venom doesn't think you have, so you glance down at jungkook, searching him for a response.

"so…" he begins quietly, "is that why you never carry a bag around anymore, yet always seem to have a laptop and pens when you need it? venom has freaking hammerspace?"

you chuckle, resting your temple against the top of jungkook's head. "no, interdimensional pockets of spacetime, obviously. yeah, it's how he can get so big despite originally being the size of a large bag of chips. he pulls our mass out of… somewhere."

"somewhere," jungkook echoes, thoughtlessly. despite the tone of his voice, you can feel him tensing up against you, all his muscles like steel corded rope as he leans in. new science never fails to excite him, and he's always been a hard-science kind of guy with physics and chemistry. your specialisation in alien biochem opens a new world to him, and it doesn't help that he loves hearing you talk.

you wrap an arm around him, kissing his temple. "i'm not really sure how it works. that was one of the things we were looking into when the lab, er, went kablooey. maybe vee could tell you about it."

his eyes widen. "would he really?"

DON'T LOOK AT ME.

you clear your throat. "uh… he doesn't know how it works, either. i don't think they had scientists on their asteroid."

jungkook visibly dims at that, but shrugs and nuzzles into your shoulder with a sigh. "it's okay. i just think that's so cool. i could finally stop making a point to take my camera out with me – and i'd never run out of film." he jerks back, staring up at you with wide eyes. "you could take all you wanted with you on planes! no more stupid weight limit. man, that would have been so helpful in italy."

"yeah, but bad for your bank account, baby," you tease, nudging him with a grin.

"shut up. like you didn't wear that necklace for two straight years." he gazes up at you with gentle brown eyes. they flicker down to your lips and back to your eyes. he leans in.

you meet him halfway, cradling the back of his head and curling your fingers in his hair. you groan softly as he nips at your lower lip. a low, pleased rumble reverberates in your chest and stomach as he swings his legs over yours, straddling your lap and tilting his head to kiss you deeper. his lips are soft, if a little chapped. luckily for him, you're wearing chapstick.

he sits back with a hum and smacks his lips. "mm. cherry?"

"guess again," you murmur, and his brow pinches slightly. he leans in, capturing your lips, and when he parts, he takes your heart with him, comfortingly sitting behind his teeth.

he frowns, deep in thought. "is it… cola?"

"no. it was cherry," you admit, sliding your hands up his thighs and squeezing. "i lied – sorry. i wanted another kiss."

he laughs and thunks his forehead against yours, pecking your lips. "i knew it. nothing else quite captures the flavour of synthetic cherry like chapstick. it's super sweet. like you," he adds cheekily, eyes crinkling. "you're so stupid... you could have just kissed me again. i wouldn't have minded."

you hum quietly, avoiding eye contact. you lift your hands off of him. "i just… are you faking it right now?"

his smile vanishes. "faking what?"

"you're acting like you don't care about what i've done. i'm a murderer," you implore, "you shouldn't want me anymore. you're spider-man and the best hero we don't deserve. can we at least talk about it, rather than pretending as if nothing happened?"

he sits quietly on your lap for a while, shifting his weight to fully rest on you. he stares down at his hands and plays with the zipper of your jacket, wiggling the metal tag up and down about an inch either way.

"i don't know what to say," he whispers eventually, not lifting his eyes. "i love you. you know that. i really, really do. i just never thought we'd have such… fundamentally different takes on vigilantism."

he chuckles at himself, a little self-deprecating. "you make me really happy, and it might be cruel, but i don't want to give you up for anything. not even if you, um, bit people's heads off… you don't do that anymore, right?"

"no," you reply quickly, shaking your head. "no – no. it won't happen again, either. we've found a better way to sustain him. he especially likes those little… hershey's kisses."

"he likes kisses?" jungkook sounds surprised.

"yeah, i know. i had the same reaction." you shrug, cuddling jungkook's waist and pressing your cheek into his shoulder. he drapes his arms over your shoulders. "anyway. thank you. for… for being selfish."

"you say it as if you expected differently," he says softly, gaze searching and imploring. "you really thought i'd hate you?"

silently, you nod. your hair tickles jungkook's cheek.

"i could never hate you," he says firmly, cupping your face. "we've been through so much together. we can – we can get through this. maybe you guys can just… tone down the violence a little, maybe?"

"we'll try our best," you whisper. your gaze flickers down to his lips. "thank you."

he hums softly, pressing his forehead against yours. he closes his eyes, the gentle breeze loosening his hair from behind his ears. you tuck them back and cup his jaw, bringing him in for a deep, hungry kiss. he moans into it and wraps his arms around your shoulders, the raised black webbing of his suit bumping over the base of your neck as he cups it.

you part with a sharp gasp as he nips your lower lip with his teeth, the sting only serving to deepen the hunger gnawing in your lower stomach.

jungkook jerks back, eyes widening. hastily, he wipes the blood from your lip, already babbling apologies. "o-oh, crap, i'm sorry! i'm so sorry, i didn't mean to – does it hurt—?"

"fuck, we liked that," you rasp, gazing up at your perfect pretty boy in your lap, and you swear you can see your own pupils blow with lust in some strange godly out-of-body vision. you grin up at jungkook and pull his arms back around you, hearing his already-quick heartbeat pound.

"i… i don't – why do you want to bleed?" he sounds so clueless, so worried, and a deep, pleased rumble escapes your chest. no one knows who it comes from.

"i like anything you give me. 'sides, it's not like you can really hurt me, you know? since you know my big dark secret, and all."

he glances away. he tugs at your jacket's lapels, straightening them for the sake of it. "i don't… i don't really like the taste of blood," he mumbles, rubbing his cheek with the back of his knuckles to brush away the tickle of hair. "i like it when we're rough, but – but just no blood, please. i like anything until that point."

your gaze softens. venom seals the two edges of the nick without having to be asked, and you dab away the remaining blood with your sleeve. "does it remind you too much of bad fights?"

he nods, exhaling shakily. "and you. today. i can’t – i really th-thought you were—"

you hush him as he leans into you, gripping you tight. he buries his head in your neck and you kiss his shoulder, cradling him as he curls into your embrace. "you wanna head home? make some waffles and cuddle?"

"n-no. i'll deal with it later when my brain catches up, so let's pretend like it didn't happen. right now, my suit is so painfully tight and i really want you to fix it."

"sure, yeah. but you know venom controls our suit, right?" you say, lips curving into a soft, half-teasing smile. "i'm no seamstress. tailoring anything but the inseam is a challenge."

"shut up," he groans, grabbing your hand and pressing it against his bulge. you can feel the stiffness of a cup, thin enough to keep his silhouette clean and flat. "you're gonna put me out of a job if you get any quippier."

"i'd be a pretty sick spider-man." suddenly, you push him down, flipping him onto his back as you slide between his warm thick thighs. you cradle the back of his head before resting it against the concrete rooftop, careful with him as you always are. his eyes widen and he flushes dark as your clothes melt into an inky black layer, skin-tight, just like his. as venom hems off the neck, black tendrils sinking into the skin behind your ears and nape and below your adam's apple, a flourish of white spreads across your chest like a lily unfurling.

"h-hey," he protests weakly, though he reaches up to trace the slender spider motif embossed into the suit. "i designed that."

you scoff, rolling your hips against his teasingly. "can you even enact intellectual property laws if you've got a secret identity? mine now – finders-keepers." you nip at his neck and kiss your way down the centre of his chest, feeling his breaths stutter as you press the spider emblem in the middle of his chest. "now, that is some view…"

softly, he whines and kicks your thigh, petulantly covering his bare chest. all it does is tense his biceps and squeeze his chest together, all impossibly chiselled. fuck, why couldn't you have gotten bit by a radioactive spider instead of playing host to an alien who exacerbates your worst instincts?

"not fair," he huffs, pushing your face away from his washboard abs. he tugs the suit back over his arms and smirks when you groan at the loss. "mm… i can't take your clothes off, so you shouldn't be able to take mine off. what if i wanna see you, too?"

"what, not a fan of the black suit?" you pout, flexing an arm teasingly. you don't miss how his eyes snap to it, his pink lips parting slightly.

"don't make me lie to get it off you." he taps the emblem at his chest, tightening the suit, and swings his legs around so he can mirror your kneeling position. he glances down and hums, wrapping his arms around your waist and propping his chin against your chest as he gazes up at you. "might be a literary message here. anti spider-man versus the original… morals, outlooks, aesthetics?"

"i'll go back to my normal look if you suck my cock in your suit," you offer.

jungkook's cheeks darken as he giggles, embarrassed. "y-you're serious?"

"yeah. we'll even do it now. think of it as a down payment." the suit shifts and billows – and you're wearing jeans and a leather jacket again. you exhale softly, palming your hardening cock, and jungkook's dark eyes can't tear themselves from devouring the sight. "so? thoughts?"

"i wasn't talking about your outfit," he murmurs, sliding his gloved hands up over your knees and thighs. he shifts, pressing his nose into your bulge, and gazes up at you through his long lashes. "you really wanna fuck me… i-in the suit?"

"shit, fuck yeah," you breathe, carding your fingers through his hair. "that's so fucking hot."

he giggles again, already reaching for your belt and zipper. if venom unentwines your belt for him, he doesn't mention it. "naughty, naughty… what does venom think?"

"he thinks you're our pretty spider, but you already know that," you huff, closing your eyes as he mouths at your boxers. "he's dirty-talking. no, i'm not telling him that. you can do it yourself later if he wants to hear it."

"so, my boys are happy, yeah?" he purrs, nuzzling into your twitching cock. "mm, i can tell. you're drooling, baby."

"because you're being a damn tease," you groan, tipping your head back against the concrete block forming the roof access. you buck your hips into him – THAT IS PITIFUL – and jungkook moans softly, teasing the band of your underwear. "please, nnh, please…"

"didn't quite catch that. you want this?"

"shit, yes, i know you heard it. fuck me, my dick's gonna fall off from how fucking hard it is," you complain, swallowing harshly as he accepts it with a proud little smile on his lips, tugging your underwear under your shaft. he hums, pleased, as he gazes up at it, stroking the base lazily.

"has venom made you more impatient? try to relax, honey… don't want you bursting in my mouth after three seconds, now, do we?"

"you're such a jerk…"

"mhm, yeah. venom's made you less patient. do you remember when we used those handcuffs? you were so good for me then." he licks a long, flat stripe up your cock from base to head and flicks the tip of his tongue over the glans rapidly, moaning softly as your hips jerk into his mouth.

your nails dig into the rough concrete below you, cold under your shoulders. they crumble slightly under your touch. "oh, fuck… those were real, weren't they? where'd you get them?"

"they tried to arrest spider-man once, way back. but i have a detective friend who happened to be nearby, and she helped me out. didn't take the cuffs from me, though."

it dawns on you like a bucket of ice down your neck. "that's why we never used them again. you snapped them to get me out of them."

jungkook glances up at you, mouthing at your balls contentedly. his eyes crinkle when he grins. "smart cookie."

easily, he takes the head into his mouth, suckling wetly as he strokes the rest in his hand. he pulls away briefly to spit on your cock – jesus fucking christ – and his pink lips stretch pale around your shaft as he lowers his head, swallowing several inches in one motion.

your head tips back and a drawled moan escapes your lips. you chuckle lazily, twisting a hand in his hair as he bobs his head, gradually taking more into his mouth. looking at him, that shiny skintight red-and-blue – you could burst right there.

fucking a superhero. you never could have dreamt it. a superhero is giving you head so sloppy it's dripping down your balls.

hm. maybe venom is influencing you more than you thought, because two months ago such a thought would've set your face on fire, yet all it does now is lead you to imagine what new positions you could try with your pretty spider, how else you could have him swallowing your come.

popping off with a wet gasp, jungkook grins up at you with half-lidded eyes, panting for breath. he nibbles his lower lip as he pumps your cock steadily, his gaze glued to how the generous precome drips over his knuckles and down the web-shooters of his suit. he giggles and shivers with a thought – how full would he feel if you finished inside him? has that changed?

he stuffs your cock into his mouth to hide his blush.

"fuck, sweetheart, 'm gonna come if you keep sucking like that," you groan, the filthy schlk-schlk of his hot wet throat bubbling arousal in your gut. his nose brushes the warm skin of your lower stomach and his gaze is dark and clouded when he gazes up at you, his throat constantly constricting and loosening as he swallows around your throbbing dick.

he doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to. his grip tightens on your thighs, digging into your skin, and he swirls his tongue desperately over the veins, flicking and curling as he feels your rapid, booming heartbeat in his mouth.

saliva drips down his chin as you thrust sharply into his mouth with a hissed curse. his eyes roll back as hot, thick come bursts down his throat and he can't even whimper – no room to. your fist yanks his head closer and he drools as what feels like gallons of come warm his belly. your hips grind roughly against his lips.

when your grip finally loosens, jungkook collapses backwards onto an elbow with a raspy gasp, chest heaving. he's never had much of a gag reflex, not since the bite, but fuck…

when his eyes flutter open, he wipes his slick, swollen lips and sits up, skin too hot for his suit. his cock throbs against the cup, wet and aching. he nearly collapses, arms unable to hold up his own weight, but you're there to catch him, one hand twisting in the back of his jacket to hold him up by the scruff like a kitten. he whimpers, fingers tugging ineffectively at your clothes.

"thanks, baby," you say huskily, pulling him into your arms and crushing your lips to his. the taste is sweet with a slight salty tang and he moans as your tongue pushes against his, messy and animal. he melts into your arms, limbs like noodles as you kiss him and lap up your own come from the corners of his mouth.

he nearly cries when you slip your thigh between his legs. he grips your shoulders for balance as he ruts against your thigh, needy gasps and moans spilling freely from his lips – you rumble your approval when he wraps his arms tightly around you, temple pressed against yours and lips right by your ear. his hips lose their rhythm until he's practically humping you, the stinging pleasure of his trapped cock spiking hot desire up his spine.

with one hand, you grope his ass, rumbling purrs sighed from deep in your chest. you can taste the embarrassment sweetening his eager moans – how lucky you are to have such a cute little spider.

but you are HUNGRY.

thick black claws shape your fingers. jungkook squeaks at the sharp riiip of cloth and he gasps, stiffening and twisting around to check the damage instinctively. you kiss his shoulder placatingly as you slap his ass, squeezing the soft meat and muscle.

"fuck—! it's cold," he whines, gripping your wrist. "oh, man, my suit's already torn from earlier – you couldn’t've just waited until i took it off?"

"wouldn't that just make you colder?" you reply, amused.

"well, now i have to replace the entire blue section from my hips to my knees! i can't just sew a line up my ass, now, can i?"

"yeah, yeah, you can bitch to me later. i'll fix it," you huff, grabbing him by his little waist and pushing him down beside you. you flip him over onto his stomach and tug his hips up. you take a moment to admire your boyfriend. how nice that is to think – your boyfriend. "mm… just wanna eat you right up."

tucking his head against his forearms, he gazes over his shoulder at you, face flushed and hair mussed. he grins, a little breathless. "please don't eat me, mister venom…"

your other half growls, his hunger overtaking any reservations you have about prepping jungkook properly. you move before you can think, your lips parting and your clawed fingers pulling to reveal his twitching asshole.

your long, long tongue pushes into him, saliva squelching obscenely as it wriggles inside him, flicking and curling against his tight, gummy walls.

he squeals, his heart jumping into his throat with shock, fear, and a healthy dose of burning liquid desire. he knows what it is before his brain can make a thought out of it. it's so deviant that the shock and shame make his tip drip faster. he tugs his jacket sleeves over his knuckles and hides his face in the soft pools of cotton, biting down harshly on his arm to muffle his wanton cries and helpless moans.

"mmgh – ngh! oh fuck. holy fuck, b-baby—! baby, n-not so fast, i'll – 'm sensitive…!"

hot and thick, thick as a cock, your tongue worms its way into him, thrusting and writhing relentlessly. he is plump and soft and utterly delectable, a sweet tasty treat you'll hunger for long after you pull out from his clenching walls.

you can't think – your dick throbs – you see the world through a faint filmy white. you're more monster than man, able to taste the wine-heavy sweetness of jungkook's arousal in the air. it is hard to breathe through his scent – you have to push against it, like wading through waist-high water.

his hips jerk away from you and you growl in warning, yanking him back towards you with a squelch of wetness. your saliva drips down his ass and thighs – thick thighs that quiver like leaves – and jungkook cries, his eyes rolling to show their whites.

somewhere in the back of your brain, you think he came. probably hard. obsessed with his sweet, soft taste as you are, however, and unable to see his cock because of his suit – it makes no difference to your animal indulgences.

jungkook babbles half-words and nonsense, punctuated by shouts of pleasure as your tongue wriggles and glides against his swollen prostate. he comes again with a cry, the stickiness between his thighs only growing with every passing minute.

he presses a shaky hand to his stomach, gasping for breath. he feels so full…

eventually, when jungkook's whines start to quieten, exhaustion making him sway, you begin to slow. your vision starts to clear. your jaw moves lazily against his puffy asshole and his whole body jerks, his hole clamping around your tongue. it feels more human, now.

slowly – somewhat reluctantly – you pull away, panting. his hole gapes slightly, dark and shining with saliva. you dip a clawed thumb against the edge, pulling gently, before pulling away to pat his ass. the motion is so different, so fond and strangely innocent, that it hard-reboots jungkook's half-melted brain. he blinks away the tears and the fog of lust, lifting his head from his arms.

"mmph… baby…?" he mumbles, his words slow and slurred. you tuck your nose into his warm neck, the bulk of your body heavy and comforting. your breaths are slow and steady and instinctually, he tries to match them.

he giggles, ticklish, as you nuzzle into his shoulder, a satisfied sigh fluttering past your lips. he strokes your hair, pressing his ass teasingly against your cock, still hard and heavy. "hah… you 'n' venom're gonna wear me out one day, y'know?"

his voice is wobbly, but pleased. you like it. "sweetheart, you don't have to. we can deal with it alone. you've already done so much for us."

"and let you waste your come? uh-uh. wanna feel it inside me." he wiggles his ass, making you groan. "c'mon, big boy… i'm getting soft."

"you're hard already?"

jungkook laughs at the surprise in your voice. "now that you know who i am, i don't have to hide it anymore. maybe you can even keep up with me."

lifting him up to kneel, you tug off his jacket and lay it down on the concrete. he hums and turns over to lay on his back, spreading his legs to give you room between them. he smiles sweetly up at you – your heart races.

you trace his suit's web patterns with a slight frown. "wait… so – this whole time, you've never really finished?"

"i finish. i just get hard again really quick." he blushes. "it's kinda humiliating, honestly, so i really want you to put it in before the clarity hits me like a truck. shit, was your cock always this big…?"

"you wish it was," you scoff, gripping the base and tapping the head against his hole. "you're such a size queen."

"m-mm, no, really, i seriously think it's – fuck!"

his head falls back as your cock pushes into him with minimal resistance. his walls clamp around you like a vice, drawing groans from both of you as you push in deeper, firm and steady in your pace. his hole swallows you up, and it's so damn warm and wet that you feel your control slip for a single frightening moment. jungkook moans sharply, back arching, as your claws dig into his skin hard enough to snap a normal person's bones.

jungkook's gasps are short and rapid in quick succession. he goes lax in your arms, arms limp above his head. you have him in your lap, his thighs resting atop yours.

"fuck," he hiccups after a giggle. you glance down, away from his drunken expression.

you shift your hips, drawing out, then push back in. a bulge in his stomach follows the motion. in your head, venom purrs at the sight, curling around your senses to feel what you feel like a lazy, satisfied cat.

"yeah," you whisper, experimentally setting a slow pace to really see it. you press your palm against the firmness of your cockhead. "yeah. fuck. you're so fucking hot, driving us downright crazy…"

you sound like an idiot, saying things that a high school jock would say to his cheerleader girlfriend in a teen movie. it's so shallow and repetitive that it makes you embarrassed, but jungkook's moans are extra loud after it, so it can't be all that bad.

still, you'd rather call him beautiful, if only to have him bury his face in your chest and laugh.

"fuck me," he breathes, reaching down and caressing your hands, black and clawed as they are. "fuck me hard – please, don't stop."

he gives you an addicted, lopsided grin, dark eyes blown with want. he cries out as your hips slap his ass, grinding into him. you pull out until the tip rests against his twitching hole and grin, sharper than usual. briefly, your eyes swirl white. "your wish is our command."

you drag him towards you as you thrust forward, your skin meeting with an obscene clap. through your lungs, venom groans, halfway between a growl and a catlike purr. your dick throbs inside his clenching walls, lining his insides with an audacious amount of precome… he'll have to do more than patch up his poor suit.

jungkook's eyes are squeezed shut, a hand planted firmly over his own mouth as your thrusts ravage his body. his hair bounces over his flushed cheeks, locks sticking to his temples with sweat. he seems to shimmer with it in the afternoon light, so unfairly pretty, as if he's dusted with crushed pearls…

you tug his hand away from his lips, parted with need, and your fingers twist through his own, clasping tightly. you rest your weight upon the first joint of each finger – you wouldn't want to rub the backs of his hands raw, after all. it's an easy feat with venom's claws creeping over your fingers from the knuckles like twisting vines.

"c'mon, spider," you purr, relishing the way his eyes flutter with each rough thrust. your balls slap against his ass. "don't be shy. we want to hear you BEG FOR IT."

when you slow down, really making him feel every pulse and twitch of your veins, he manages to crack his eyes open, though they flicker anxiously over the sky and glass towers surrounding you before landing on your face. he swallows, and a defiant glimmer shines in his eye. "no."

"no?" you chuckle. "gettin' cold feet? scared to make a whore out of yourself when you know we're both watching?"

"no," he repeats, a little harrumph passing past his lips. "i don't wanna work for it. you're my boyfriend – you're supposed to make me happy. are you slowing down because you want to tease me, or because you're too tired to keep up?"

a growl. "OH, YOU…"

grip tightening, you shift forward on your knees, hiking his thighs higher over yours – he gasps as your cockhead scrapes against his tender prostate on its way in. he sucks in a deep breath as you bottom out, his lashes fluttering, and the bulge in his belly moves as you do. "babe—"

"does it hurt?"

he shakes his head minutely. his bitten red lips part and he wraps his legs around your waist, digging his heels into the small of your back impatiently. "t-told you not to stop…"

you hum softly and resume a rough, steady pace, the obscene sound of wet skin slapping skin echoing far too loudly with his enhanced hearing. it's hard to ignore and he realises, suddenly, that he's still in the suit – maskless.

"h-hurry – hurry up," he whimpers, a shred of panic fluttering in his belly – or maybe that's just you. "if someone sees—"

"then they'll know how well spider-man takes cock." you smirk with a gloating glint in your eye.

"i'm being s-serious," he whines, breathless. unable to inject any sense of urgency into his words, he settles for squeezing your hands tightly, feeling and hearing the crack as venom imbeds himself into the concrete like tiny harpoons for support. you're trembling slightly – he can feel it in your legs – and he has an inkling that you're holding back more than your own urges.

"SO ARE WE," you reply as if it's obvious. you roll your hips tauntingly into his ass and his back arches, his hole clamping down around your veiny shaft. you hiss and the smirk on your face drops to make room for the irritated twitch of your brow. "fuck. don't squeeze too hard – i'll come early."

"e-early, he says! like you haven't been wringin' me of everything i have," jungkook huffs, squeaking in surprise when you let go of one of his hands to grip his waist and heft it higher, helping you to thrust deeper. your thick cockhead kisses his tender prostate, again and again and again – hot, sticky come drips down your shaft and balls and jungkook's suffocating cock throbs with a pulse of wetness when your claws dig into his skin in warning for his cheek.

you tap his hip absently, surveying your damage. "not everything."

you pause just long enough to seize his suit in both hands, and in one smooth motion, rip his suit to free his cock.

"honey—!"

with a quick swipe of your claw, his underwear falls apart and his dark, throbbing cock springs free. his underwear, looped around his thighs and waist like a jock, held the protective cup in place. you tug it out of his suit impatiently and toss it aside, much to his embarrassment, but he doesn't have long to stutter about it because your big hands close around his neck and your cock slams into him.

he wails. he lets out a bone-searing string of breathless cries and moans, tears welling up on his dark lashes as he grips your wrists and bounces with your rough primal pace. your thumb shifts over his adam's apple. you purr at the feeling of his moans, your name vibrating against your skin like a prayer and burning up your veins to settle in the base of your stomach, hot and coiled.

"SO PRETTY FOR US, SPIDER… SO TINY AND OBEDIENT. your cock is drooling – ALL FOR US," you rumble, shifting one hand to grip his shoulder instead. you cradle his head, turning it slightly to one side. you swear you can hear the blood roaring through his jugular and down, down, down to his heart, through it, and back up again, rushing rushing rushing through his arteries…

"mhm, f'you…! more – more, more," he babbles tearfully, his hard cock leaking a puddle onto his stomach. it leaks down his sides with your harsh thrusts, bouncing him off of your lap like a pretty little toy. your hips quicken, your grunts rumbling out as animal snarls as his cock smacks his stomach and yours throbs deep inside his trembling wet hole. "more! please, baby, fuck, feels so good! so fucking good, 'm gonna – yes! 'm coming—!"

you GROWL as his cock explodes onto his chest, sticky translucent come streaking his suit and dribbling down the black spider emblem. your thick cock pulses in his quivering heat and your orgasm crashes onto you in thundering waves, harder than anything you've ever felt. it feels a bit like dying: the way your thoughts melt into one another into a slosh of raw animal emotion, the blurry white-out vision, the feeling of every nerve and neuron firing at once in a desperate last hurrah that burns you up and shaves the meat off your bones for what seems like an eternity.

your eyes flutter open. the filmy white has receded.

jungkook hangs off of your cock, his hands loosely pressed against your chest. his head rests in one massive inky black palm, his back in the other. he gazes up at you with glossy, dazed eyes, something like awe glimmering in them as he pants, hot breath fanning your kiss-bitten lips.

like a dog satisfied with an under-the-table steak, venom slinks back into your skin, and jungkook shifts his quivering thighs around your hips to accommodate you better between them. he leans in and cups your cheek with a shaky hand – you don't think you'd notice it if venom wasn't boosting your senses – to kiss you gently, his soft slick lips moving against yours with lazy contentment.

you blink slowly at him, your brain still pulling itself together, and finally notice the state of him: sweat-damp hair, marked skin, bruised lips, ruined suit.

ruined suit…

"oh, shit," you croak, reaching between jungkook's legs to collect the thick white come dribbling down his thighs, still red with the imprint of your grip. it's starting to turn purple in places. "shit."

"it's okay! it's okay," he soothes, cupping your face. his voice is raspy and his chest heaves. "i can fix it. it's just a bit of thread."

"n-no, it's more than that," you whisper urgently, eyes widening as you hug jungkook to your chest. your cock shifts inside of him. it's almost tender. "i hurt you."

"i heal fast, honey, remember? tomorrow morning, i'll be right as rain. you'll see." he shifts on your lap and winces softly, inhaling sharply. "j-just – mm – pull out slowly, please. and lay me back – i can't feel my legs…"

"o-okay. okay. sorry," you mumble, being as gentle as you can. once he's comfortable, you reach down and slip yourself out little by little.

the head pops out, and a thick gush of come pools around jungkook's ass.

he groans at the feeling, his gaping asshole clenching futilely as it leaks your come like a damn waterfall. one of his hands presses against his stomach, the phantom feeling of you devastating his insides impossible to overcome. the other hand flicks lazily over his shaft a few times as he pants and regains his breath, his thighs trembling even as you try to comfort him. he's never looked so… drained before after nights together. not like he could fall asleep at any moment.

after a while of cleaning up – to the best of your ability – you find yourself sitting cross-legged by jungkook as he lays his head in your lap, halfway there to nodding off as the warm breeze musses his hair.

jungkook plays with your fingers as venom slowly stitches together shorts and a hoodie for him. black, of course. he insisted you all have to match. he's been rather quiet for a while, and when jungkook teased him about being so vocal just minutes ago, he'd huffed something about being hungry. the lack of energy was his reason for why he was threading the clothes onto jungkook's back so slowly, but you saw right through his excuses.

"how are you feeling?" you ask softly, fluttering your fingers at him.

he huffs and catches your hand without looking, glancing up at you. "honey, stop making it sound like i'm sick – i'm fine. a little achy, but nothing worse than hitting your funny bone on the edge of a door. the only thing that's taking its time is my voice. i sound like i've just gone to a club – nightclub, i mean – and had an hour-long conversation."

you chuckle, watching as venom finally finishes the sleeve he'd been working on for the last few minutes. after a moment, the surface of the hoodie ripples like water, and a white spider symbol, sharp and long, blooms from the centre of his chest. it settles back into simple cotton and polyester.

you touch the mark, tracing its edges. "i think it's a nice design. maybe you should try a new suit for the next one, since this one's pretty messed up."

"and whose fault is that?' he snarks, sliding his palm beneath yours and shaking it slightly. he glances down and nibbles on his lower lip. "it's nice, i admit… but it might be dangerous. i could remember i'm wearing it and get distracted, and then i'll smack into a crane or something."

"spider-man gets distracted?"

"only for big boys with big you-knows," he whispers, blushing and giggling to himself. he props himself up and reclines in your arms, humming contently and sighing as your arms wrap securely around him, heavy and warm. "i'm kidding. not really, but i'm kidding. i'd love you even if you took over the world and made us all subjects to your dark dominion. please don't, though, because i'd be morally obligated to stand up for the little guy and i don't wanna hurt you, y'know?"

you nod with a smile, brushing your thumb over his lower lip. he purses his lips against it for a little kiss. "i promise i won't go crazy and become a supervillain."

he falls quiet for a while, settling his head back into your lap. he closes his eyes, dark lashes brushing his cheeks, and brings your hand up to rest on his chest. his heartbeat is slow but sure, and you can feel your muscles relaxing just by the sight of his serene expression.

he doesn't hate you. he doesn't hate you.

he won't leave you alone. not ever – you understand this now. in this world of gods and aliens, you couldn't be happier with anyone else by your side – you are just mortal, just human. so very human. even if a planet-eating god sticks their fingers into the threads of the multiverse, melting existence as you know it, at least you'll be able to look into his eyes and know that at the very least, you were loved – and that is worth more than anything.

[dynamicsimp]

Ooh! So does the parasite’s behavior vary depending on its host? Or did it fall in love with Wukong on its own? Also is each individual bullet from the gun its own parasite? Or is it the same one each time?

Sorry for so many parasite questions I’m just absolutely fascinated by this AU

1) Yes the parasite's behavior varies depending on its host, sometimes mimicking the host's personality or having its own behavior.

2) Well it's complicated-? It's more so the parasite fell in love because Macaque still loves Wukong, but the parasite has more of "I LOVE YOUUU!" rather than "...I love you..." Like Macaque's, ya know? Pretty hard to explain for this one-

3) Yes each bullet is its own parasite but moreso with the same objective in mind, that is to make the host fall in love with the first person it sees.

Also it's no worries, I also love doing things for the parasite :3

[bogleech]

I went to a parasite museum today and the whole time I kept pointing at specimens like "ooh I know that guy! There's my friends leucochloridium and cymothoa from bogleech.com!!"

omg I wanna go to that so badly, that's one of my main goals if I ever visit Japan. When I first heard of it I know they had a gift shop but I don't know if they do anymore :(

[colourstreakgryffin]

Sukuna × Venom!reader

Ooh… interesting indeed! We’d make quite the cool Cursed Spirit so let’s try this out! I can imagine Sukuna would enjoy a Venom! minion quite a lot

Sukuna Ryomen- Goopy Parasite

Venom

Venom’s the name of one of the most vile brutal difficult Cursed Spirits known to sorcery-kind. Even Gojo Satoru himself struggles with handling this being, it’s goopy, it’s acidic and it won’t tolerate physical contact and just regenerates instantaneously… it simply won’t let sorcerers exorcise it… so, it’s a infuriating headache to all races, except it’s fellow cursed spirits

Especially to the King of Curses, Sukuna Ryomen himself. He had been dormant for hundreds to thousands of years so he had never been able to catch up with what his own slaves have been doing to the lowly race called humans. When he was finally freed by a simple fifteen year old boy, Sukuna had been granted a new opportunity to dominant the world as he desired eras ago

Sukuna could hear and see everything the boy did, some of it was enough to boil his blood, some of it made him dose of. The rare 5% that piped his interest changed the tortuous hours being trapped in the mind of some beefhead wroth it. Sukuna hears about you. The Venom, one of the most complicated cursed spirits for the sorcery clan to face off

And he immediately perks up in wonder and curiosity over this cursed spirit. He’s never heard of such entity, he’s never heard of the idea of a measly cursed spirit taking his mantle as unbeatable and difficult to face down. Sukuna wishes to know of this cursed spirit and see what he can do with it

Dispose of or create his minion… he’s looking forward to making that decision

Luckily for Sukuna after learning about this valuable information he keeps floating shallowly in his regal mind for a while, the boring mission Yuji was sent onto with his little friends, got significantly more intriguing when he sees through the teen’s eyes that what he wanted most has come to him on a silver platter

You. You’ve arrived at his feet! The Venom itself, in all your goopy mighty tall pitch black glory. Stretchable big jaw dropping further… you’re one of the top Special Grade cursed spirits. That fact makes Yuji and his little posse terrified, Sukuna can just sense those pathetic feelings and it amuses him greatly

Sukuna’s plan is getting closer and closer to him every second he watches this movie of a real life situation played before him on basically a big screen from his threatening sharp bone throne, dark blood red eyes following every movement you make

All of them heavy and brutish, almost caveman-like, as you don’t express much mercy. In-fact, you’re already throwing around Yuji’s little friends like they are mere toys to you since in your mind, they are trespassing on your territory and your territory is this entire planet

Sukuna smirks amused, he hasn’t seen such a good feeding session in years on end now. You’re beautiful and he has decided whilst watching how simply overwhelming you are as an opponent to the fellow despised sorcerers. He shouldn’t waste time and energy killing a creature this useful, he can just make you serve him as your King

Sukuna can only really watch from the sidelines through Yuji’s eyes as the fight rages on rather violently, in the most delicious way. Yet, this fun doesn’t last forever since it’s almost like fate and the cosmos above wants you to make contact with him, since you already strike with your durable sharp claws at Yuji when basically throwing both his little friends into the ground as if they are bugs to be squashed. The perfect moment for him

The mere moment you swipe at Yuji’s face to try blind him, Sukuna triggers his power to transport anybody he desires into his body in that second or two… mainly being cursed spirits, and through a speedy tunnel of flashing lights. You go from trying to paint the walls with Yuji’s bodily fluids to being stood before the King of the Curses

A King that looks thrilled to see his target stationed and defenceless before his towering throne made of the calcium of his past victims, though continues to contain his emotions openly and expresses a more neutrally sadistic charm. His red locked on the tall muscular black parasite before him

Sukuna doesn’t wait for you to speak, he speaks up loud and proud with the expectation that you’ll listen to your King as you should. He knows you, based on the attitude he just studied previously, don’t do things such as reason and basic thinking. You fight and win recklessly, you don’t plan as you don’t need it at all. You can maim all your victims by merely smashing them into surfaces until they turn to red mist

“You’re the special little animal I’ve been hearing so much about~”

Sukuna can see the way you look visibly stunned in either amazement or fear. Whatever you feel, it doesn’t concern him. He’s concerned about convincing you to join his side and serve him as he demands and he can pay you handsomely for doing so. He doesn’t worry about the potential chance he’ll lose you, he won’t

You yourself silently listens when standing upright from being in the middle of your vicious attacking position, rolling up and looking with big sharp white eyes at the King of Curses as he speaks both calmly and condescendingly. To you… it seems this King thinks of you as a dumb animal

And Sukuna does. He does think of you as a mere dumb animal, like some gorilla of raw strength but whilst that is… suitable. He prefers your much more terrestrial capabilities, the ones that form you into a beast nobody can truly land a hand on. He wants that as his own, to be under his thumb loyally

“Now. Listen to me, my lovely little black widow. I want you to work with me, be my right-hand little curse and you’ll get a rich future in favour of helping me dispose of this brat and his brats~”

Sukuna doesn’t pull any punches or just pull out bullshit. He straight up tells you his desires and arrogantly believes you’ll obey him, since he has far too much to offer back. Only a real fool would say no to this King and he doesn’t believe you have that little of brain. His quiet yet calm judgement is burning through you like a fire as he waits surprisingly patient for your response

Sukuna was genuinely surprised that you could speak fluently and it made him more interested but nevertheless, he doesn’t comment the thoughts that cross his conscious as you pipe up with your gravelly very monstrous voice. That he owns you his side of the offer, that’s all you say. However… he knows what you mean

You’ve accepted his offer, you just want to make sure he isn’t lying to exploit you. Sukuna wants to exploit you but he also isn’t that cheap of a sly bastard, he’s more exquisite than that. He’ll pay you back and if you’re still of worth by the time, he’ll decide if he is to keep you alive or not. You may be mighty but you’re a ant, compared to him

Sukuna nods pleased as he speaks as pleased, expressing his pleasure at your positive response and he does, once again, rather pet-ify you by speaking like you’re just his obedient little dog. He’d have pet your head and coo if he was any closer, but he also decides you’re not deserving of his love bombing

You need to do more work for him, take care of those brats from the outside and help him gain his own corporeal form. Until then, he’ll give you all the love you could desire

“Good little one… I knew I could rely on you~”

Sukuna praises proudly and content but yet his seductive sleek voice has no true meaning in it, he doesn’t view you as anything but just a simple useful tool but he also knows he cannot use you as a tool. You’ll fight back against him and he can’t afford that, he needs servants to devote themselves to him and his resurrection

Never once moving from his comfortable position upon his throne, he already had fulfilled his duty with you and doesn’t need you in his domain anymore but he won’t let you leave without reminding you that you cannot fail him. He will find you if you dare, behave and you’ll get as many sorcerer to kill and eat as you want

Waving his hand to you as a ‘fair well, my new friend’. You respond with a simple surprisingly cute noise of interest and acknowledgment. You usually don’t like to work with others but then again… you are before a cursed spirit far above you and if you just give him what you want, you’ll get more victims to put your hands on!

Before you’re sent off, back to existence, by Sukuna’s will. He gives off another little comment to drill into your head firmly you’ve basically made the deal with the devil but he honestly couldn’t sound and look more bored. Not really because he is bored by you, but because he’s gonna be bored having to watch the best and his posse part from you like cowards

He’s always looking forward to seeing you again

“Don’t fail me, my little black widow ~ I’m watching you. Make me proud and you’ll get Gojo Satoru’s head to devour”

[enden-k]

Ooh your ocs and lore/worldbuilding are so interesting! The whole ghost possesion thing is quite interesting cause the fact that ppl know about this gives the implication that this is just something that happens sometimes (?) and that supernatural stuff is widely known. Like oooh that is such an interesting world, like how do ppl deal with that? Are there doctors that deal with ghost possesions? lol

Anyway got kinda sidetracked but the original reason i sent this ask was cause i noticed Vikas eye color changed and wondered if Saran actually took one lol. Or is it something to do with the contract they have? No worries if you dont wanna spoil the lore haha i was just curious!

Your art is amazing as always and i love love the way you drew Sarans eyes they look like mouths?? Fangs?? Either way really cool and was the first thing i thought of when i saw the whole «devour you» bit

thank you sm!!!! aaaaa

yea its bc it is! the story is set in a world haunted by so called "fears" - negative energies manifested, ranging from nightmares to evil ghosts and spirits and fears and phobias manifested. shortly after the outbreak of this paranormal parasite (which claimed thousands of ppl), ppl banded together to fight back against "fears" and at some point an organization ("amygdala") was born that focuses solely on the exorcism or annihilation of the fears. those ppl dealing with them are called fear seekers or just seekers; seeking those who hide in the dark to strike

they use a specific "tool" that makes it possible for them to see the unseen and summon a fear they contract themselves to - these tools are lit the plucked out eye of the fear (using it comes with either handy or negative side effects, i can explain that all in another post maybe?)

anyway yep! its eventually brought up but its not like its a huge reveal since its evident. saran actually took vikas eye but gave one of his instead, making it possible for vika to use sarans powers but also to give him the ability to "see (experience) others emotions" as if its his own via eye contact. like this he also learns to identify his own and express himself better

also glad you noticed!!!! they are! sarans pupils are basically "soul snatching" mouths; looking into his eyes gets your life drained so he always has them closed - his others are constantly open tho. hes always watching. hes always seeing everything

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

how would the yanderes react when darling asks "would you love me if i was a worm" 😁

Yandere men and their darling asking "would you love me if I was a worm"

By the way, if you don't specify which set of yanderes, i'll do the latest! So, for this, it's set 2!

YAN! DELINQUENT

"A worm? Uh..."

Liam would be flabbergasted.

He would genuinely think about it. He doesn't have pets before. But, you're not a pet. You're his lover, so does that count as beast--

Then he watches your face distort from cheeky to worried, to sad because he's not answering at all.

But please, don't take his silence the wrong way. He's genuinely trying to give a logical answer to your question!

He's thinking of what soil to use, the cage... Wait, does caging you benefit? Or would it be healthier for a worm to be on grass?

His head is going overload trying to think of what to answer that you actually felt bad for it, until he just groans in his palms and say...

"Of course, I will. Worm or not."

YAN! BULLY

"Yeah no."

Straightforward answer, and it just pissed you off that he didn't even think about it.

And oh boy does he like the fact that you're pissed at him for saying that. He'll tease you about it, saying "boohoo, i'll just throw you away and find another person. Because honestly, how can I fuck you when you're a worm?"

Now, that genuinely hurt you, because it implied that he only loves you for your body. And now, you're ignoring him. Sure, you have no other friends to turn to, but what's there to miss from him when he says those stuff.

Uno freezes, because now he sees you're actually hurt. At first, he'll laugh at you for being such a sensitive person, not until you ignoring him became too painful and he had to lower is high ass pride and kneel in front of you, saying that you as a worm wouldn't matter because he still loves you.

YAN! NSFW ASMRTIST

"Is this a request for a new audio?"

Rose was slightly aware of the trend, but he didn't expect you to say it to him. So maybe you were suggesting a new audio plot?

But no, you're actually asking if he would love you if you were a worm.

He chuckles, a bit awkward. He's a bit too old for these trends.

"I don't understand the trend. But um... Yes, I will still love you. I'll take care of you greatly, and make sure you live your best life with me."

YAN! ISEKAI'ED ADVENTURER

"My lady? A worm?"

Aeron stops what he's doing (probably marquessate work) and looks up at you. "Are you going to get cursed or something?"

If he somehow knew the trend beforehand, he'll be surprised that you knew that. Are you also from this world, perhaps?

But then, he'll stop himself and chuckles. "Yes, I will. Also, I know that you will overcome whatever curse will be afflicted on you."

It seems that he misunderstood everything. But you don't mind.

YAN! PLAYER

"Yes. And I'll also be a worm. And we'll have a worm wedding, then a worm family..."

Oh gods, please make him stop.

After you asked that question, he'll giddily answer like he's been thinking about the question a lot. You looked at him funnily as he listed down his wormy fantasy when you both become worms like it's the inevitable. Sometimes, it's scaring you, really.

"--then, i'll bring you the most precious food out there, wait, what kind of worm? Ooh, earthworms? But no..."

Why did you even ask that?

YAN! PARASITE

"Aren't we worms already?"

You shoot Acheron a mean look and he laughs. "I mean, we're technically parasites, hopping from one body to another. So yes, we are worms, and I still and will love you. Yes?"

Well, that's true... But did he really have to be logical? Where's the whimsy and fun?

As you pout there, he chuckles and kisses your forehead.

Well, at least he will love you no matter what.

YAN! EMPEROR

"... No."

You were shocked. Surely, SURELY, the man who committed war crimes just to find you would love you as a worm?

When you asked him why, he would just scoff and say:

"I am a man of high status. I will not be loving a worm."

You frowned, and he could clearly tell that you were about to turn around and walk away when he suddenly pulled you close.

"I will be finding the best wizards and sorcerers out there, even warlocks and witches, just to turn you back to your form."

Okay, maybe Callisto can be sweet too.

YAN! COLLEGE STUDENT

"No questions, yes."

Alpheus gave you a straight answer as he put hot glue on the plank on his hand before gently placing it on the board. "I'll even make you a small house just for you to live on."

He's unbelievably sweet when he said that, like it was the most obvious thing ever. Even when he's making his architectural model, he's still so attentive towards you.

In reality, he doesn't understand this trend at all. Why become a worm in the first place? It's not even logical. But eh. You wanted to ask, so fine.

YAN! DEEP SEA CREATURE

"What is a worm?"

Ah, you forgot that this man is essentially homebound and cannot get out. So, no worms. So you thought of an alternative, a starfish!

He deeply thought of the answer to give you, until... "Hmm, yes, I will. But, that means, I can dissect you into multiples so I can have more of you."

Okay, okay... Jeez.

YAN! HUNTER

"Wait, a worm? Yes, but..."

He's not sure how to say this without saying anything incriminating. "I have to remake the whole pool aquarium into a biodiverse ecosystem!" Well, at least he's still thinking of you.

"NO! WAIT! IF I GIVE YOU THAT BIG OF AN ENCLOSURE, I'LL LOSE YOUR WORM FORM!" You blinked, not expecting such a passionate revelation of an answer. He bit his nail, actually thinking deep. You just rolled your eyes and chuckled.

YAN! KING

"If you become a worm, then I'll be a worm too."

Soma frowns. What kind of question is this?

"I'll make sure that you won't get away from me and crawl back to the Emperor." He seethed, eyes burning with jealousy.

Did you ask that to spite him? Are you going to escape by being a worm? Foolish enough to even say your plan too. He grabs your hand, kissing you roughly.

"I will kill every single worm I see until I reach to you."

YAN! GOD

"Do you wish to be one?"

Liviticus stopped watching the screen and looked to you. He's thinking too deep now. "Are you unhappy in your new form? I can fix that."

But before you could deny, Livticus turned you into a worm, making you shriek in horror as he picked you up. He smiles softly, thinking you like it. "You'll turn back into a human tomorrow, so don't worry."

STILL TOMORROW?

Man... You shouldn't have asked...

YAN! PROSECUTOR

"I will not be able to love you romantically as a worm."

He sadly says as he holds your hand. He seems genuinely distraught of the fact that he can't. You asked him why not. "It's because we are species apart, and it will be unfair to you if I confine you to me always when your place is in the soil, thriving, eating, growing... I simply cannot."

He pecks you on the forehead, gently brushing the back of your hand. "But, I will still long for you, forever."

[valdevia]

What are the biggest inspirations for your work? Your ideas and pieces are so unique and amazing. ^-^

Junji Ito for his approach to horror and how he can seamlessly balance body horror, cosmic horror and the absurd.

Guillermo del Toro for his takes on folklore and history, and that little bit of whimsy.

Old-school creepypasta for the method of presentation (not for the writing. God, not the writing).

Obscure internet sites made by conspiracy theorists who use badly photoshopped images as proof that giants are real. Also, all those people making videos of "duende captured on camera in real life"

My medical degree for all the medical horror it has inspired. Especially that one strange professor who spent weeks teaching us about parasites even though it wasn't strictly needed for the curriculum. Cool guy.

All the editors who wrote the weird Wikipedia articles that give me ideas.

Arthur Conan Doyle for writing a book-length essay defending a spirit photographer who he really thought was real. Inspired this!

All the archivists and museum workers doing an amazing job of digitizing history and letting everyone freely access the results of their labour. So many of my images come from seeing a cool old photo in an online archive and going "ooh I should add something here!".

And I could go on!

[anipgarden]

Tropical Milkweed, Its Problems, and What To Plant Instead

I am writing this to atone for the sins of my past (handing out tropical milkweed cuttings to my friends and teachers before I knew better).

(Also let me make this clear I am Floridian I am writing this from the perspective of someone in the United States if you live in Tropical Milkweed's native range this doesn't apply to you go forth pogchamp)

Look online, on TV, in books, in newspapers, left, right, up, down, anywhere, and you'll see people talking about how planting milkweed is crucial, essential for the survival of monarch butterflies. Milkweed is the only plant that monarch caterpillars can eat as they're growing, and the loss of it in our wild spaces is one of the most direct links to the ecological extinction speedrun of not just monarchs, but dozens of other insects who rely on its abundance of nectar-filled flowers to survive. You'll be urged to run, not walk, to your nearest garden center, buy as much milkweed as you can, and hurry fast to plant it in your gardens and be part of the solution, not the problem. The issue is that, oftentimes, the milkweed you leave the store with is a vibrant red and orange, with pointed green leaves, dozens like it lining the shelves across stores all over the nation...

Tropical milkweed. Scarlet milkweed. Bloodflower. Mexican butterfly weed. Asclepias curassavica. This plant is a being of many names, and our culprit of the hour.

'Culprit? Culprit of what?' Culprit of enticing people to buy it under the guise of helping, only to possibly cause more harm than good.

Let's discuss.

Tropical Milkweed (Asclepias curassavica) is a gorgeous milkweed (especially the yellow variety? ooh, that had me in a grip as a teen) that's easy to obtain--too easy. It lines the shelves of stores like Walmart, Lowe's, Home Depot, and even hundreds and dozens of smaller garden stores, and is sold for reasonably cheap because its quick and easy to grow from seed and eagerly roots from cuttings. It's extremely popular with butterflies too--in many scenarios, Tropical Milkweed will be preferred as host plants over other related species like Butterflyweed (Asclepias tuberosa), and its also popular with other species of butterfly, bees, and wasps as a nectar source. It lasts well into winter in some areas of the United States, is quick to regrow when cut back, and doesn't die back for periods of the season like some other milkweeds do. It's eager to reseed, creating capsules with tens of dozens of seeds and scattering across the winds with the help of little silky parachutes much like the ones dandelions are known for.

'Ani, what's the problem with that? This all sounds like its great for monarchs!'

See, here's the kickers. In fact, here's several kickers. Here's an entire mollywhopping of kickers.

OE Infections

In the temperate areas that it doesn't die back over winter (or even, in some cases, where it doesn't die back during the season like other milkweeds), it can become a host for OE. OE is short for Ophryocystis elektroscirrha, and its a protozoan parasite that can and frequently does infect monarchs. As infected monarchs visit different plants--whether its to drink nectar, to lay eggs, or even just doing a fly-by of the garden--they drop spores from their wings that can then fall onto the leaves, flowers, and even any eggs already on the plant. As caterpillars hatch and begin to eat the plant, they ingest the protozoan, which begins the cycle anew. High OE levels in adult monarchs have been linked to lower migration success, reductions in body mass, lifespan, mating success, and flight ability. And that's if the caterpillars don't succumb prematurely to the infection, or if they're able to even exit their cocoon and fly once they finish pupating--deformed wings are frequently a result after infections. Now, OE is a parasite that's evolved alongside monarchs--and monarchs are usually able to handle an infection just fine, but if they're carrying a high load? That's where the problem lies.

What role does tropical milkweed play in this? Most milkweeds die back after blooming, at least once or even twice per season--and the parasite dies alongside them. As native milkweeds push out fresh foliage, its parasite-free, offering a healthy new buffet for caterpillars. Tropical milkweed... doesn't do that. If nothing's done, (at least in my state of Florida) tropical milkweed will stay fresh and green all the way up until the first real frost hits way in December--and that's if there's a hard frost, when you travel farther south. And during all that time, OE levels are building up on the leaves, so any future caterpillars that feed on this plant are doomed the instant their egg is laid on a leaf.

Its not that it's utterly impossible for a monarch to get infected with OE on any other kind of milkweed--monarchs are known for their traveling habits, and the chances of them happening upon a different milkweed plant than the tropical milkweed in your backyard is pretty high. But whereas native milkweeds die back and essentially reboot their system with fresh, disease-free leaves at least once a season, tropical milkweeds are like downloading a virus onto a USB and then passing it to your friends.

But that's not all, either. Time for kick 2.

Migration Interruption

Sit with me a moment and imagine you're a monarch butterfly. You're hardwired to know that as your food source starts dwindling at home, its time to get a move on and fly on down to the family's vacation home in Mexico for the winter. The buffets shut down, you exit stage left. But on your way to what's essentially a season-long smorgasbord with friends, you find... a buffet is still open. You're supposed to leave when the buffets are shutting down, but this one's up and running, lights are on, and plenty of people are there having fun, so you step in to relax. You'll take your trip later.

Now imagine a bit after you entered that buffet, the staff stuffed the guests into the walk-in freezer, locked the door, turned off all the lights, locked up the building, and left.

That's basically what tropical milkweed being 'evergreen' is doing to monarch butterflies in the fall and winter seasons. In areas up north where it can stay growing far later into the fall/winter months--or worse, in the south, where it can basically be evergreen until a hard frost (if one even happens), it can interrupt the monarchs' iconic migration cycle. They'll stay in place and continue breeding, living life like they aren't supposed to be a country away--until a frost hits, and they're dead in a snap. And if there's not a frost, you're getting a bunch of OE spore-ridden monarchs flying around a bunch of OE spore-ridden milkweed plants that the butterflies who followed the rules and overwintered in Mexico are gonna be returning to. POV you're starting a family in a house so laden with asbestos and black mold that there's practically black dust floating around.

This is already pretty bad. Can it get worse? Absolutely. Kick number 3.

It's Pretty Invasive (in the US)

It's fast growing, its eager to go to seed (so eager that it can flower and produce seed at the same time), its growing all throughout winter--which would be great, if it were native to the United States. Unfortunately, it isn't! As one could imply from the name, Mexican butterfly weed is native to--well--Mexico, as well as the Caribbean, South America, and Central America.

Further North into the states, and it's more of an annual--a plant that lasts maybe a year tops, dies back permanently, and you go buy more next year, or start from seed. Further south? It's a perennial, baby--which means its got even more time to spread its seeds and really thrive in the warmer climates of places like Florida, Texas, California, etc. Not to mention, as climate change makes temperatures rise, places where tropical milkweed is an annual may quickly begin seeing it stand strong all year...

I won't pretend to be a Professional Milkweed Identifier. I'm getting better at it with time, but I'm not a pro. But most of the time I go outside and I go 'oh, that's a milkweed!' its tropical milkweed. I've seen it grow in the sidewalk cracks of a gardening store I go to--its a clean four feet tall, always flowering, always making seeds. Tropical Milkweed is eager to escape the confines of your backyard, or make more plants in your backyard--I started with 5 plants one year, and the next year I had seven, then twelve, and that's just the ones that didn't get mowed over in the seedling stage...

But wait, that's not all! Kick number 4, baby!

Toxic to Monarchs????

According to the Xerces Foundation, emerging research suggests that tropical milkweed may become toxic to monarch caterpillars when exposed to the warmer temperatures associated with climate change.

'What the fuck, I thought milkweed was good for monarchs! How the hell does that happen?!'

All milkweeds produce cardenolides in their sap--a type of steroid that are toxic to most insects (and even people). Milkweeds create it to repel herbivores that would munch on it otherwise--except for milkweed butterflies (Danainae family), like our legendary monarch, as well as the queen and plain tiger butterfly. Larvae eat up milkweed leaves like there's no tomorrow, to stock up on those cardenolides and become toxic to their vertebrate predators--except for a few species that have evolved to become cardenolide-tolerant (black-backed orioles and black-headed grosbeaks). But, when cardenolide concentrations are high enough, it's too strong for even monarch butterflies to withstand--they die because of the very plant that's supposed to give them life. Kinda fucked up. Comparatively, many native species have lower cardenolide levels--and don't immediately go into flux at higher temps like tropical milkweed does.

'Wait, Ani, if there's all these problems with tropical milkweed, why is it sold everywhere?'

Capitalism. The answer is capitalism.

Well, actually, its a bit more complicated than that but it's also still capitalism.

The very same things that make tropical milkweed so invasive and such an issue are what make it so incredibly popular to sell. It's fast growing, and eagerly starts from cuttings as well as from seeds--which is perfect for growing tons of plants in quick and easy batches to send to vendors all over and get a quick profit. It's easy to grow from the home gardener too--its resistant to most diseases, looks gorgeous almost year-round, is quick to return in many areas without even the slightest sign of a die-back, and is popular with monarchs and other pollinators. Want to start a pollinator garden with quick results? Plant milkweed--and when tropical milkweed is all that you see available when you walk into your beloved store, it's what most people are going to get without thinking twice. Not to mention, when you hear it starts quick from cuttings, and you really wanna get your friends and loved ones into pollinator gardening, well... you get well-meaning people sharing invasive plants with their homies, like I did in high school. I've been pollinator gardening for around sixish-sevenish years (I think) and I didn't even catch wind that tropical milkweed was invasive until three years in! To say I was mortified doesn't describe it fully.

'Wait, three years ago? So information about this has been out awhile! Why aren't more places selling native milkweeds by now?! Why are people still buying this invasive milkweed and not native ones?!'

It's capitalism again! But in a different way.

Compared to tropical milkweed, many other milkweeds are a lot more... finnicky to get started, or grow in general. Many of them are a lot slower to germinate, are more prone to failing as seedlings and falling victim to things like 'dampening off' or 'too many aphid' or 'the vibes were wrong.' If they do germinate, they're slower to get to size too--I've grown tropical milkweed from seed in solo cups and gotten something about four inches tall within maybe a month and a half. Some other milkweeds I've grown from seed take about a month and a half to get more than four leaves, or even poke their little green heads out of the dirt. In addition to this, milkweeds have taproots--and some are a lot more friendly to the concept of 'transplanting from a pot to the ground' or 'growing in a pot at all' than others, and tropical milkweed ranks at the top of that list again. Not to mention, their willingness and ability to overwinter in pots--many native milkweeds fail that test, meaning that even if all the resources and efforts are put into getting a milkweed to grow from seed, it won't survive longer than a year in that pot. Considering most milkweeds don't flower until a year or so into their growth, and it's easier to sell plants that are flowering... many plants are a tough sell.

Another reason? Some native milkweeds are way more picky about when they want to make seed pods, or what conditions their seeds want to be grown in. If the seeds are hard to obtain? Good luck growing them in a production greenhouse. Let alone finding seeds for sale to grow them yourself at home--in my hunt for native milkweed species, I've seen packets of ten seeds sold for twenty bucks, packets of 25 seeds sold for anywhere from 50 to 100--meanwhile, you can find dozens if not hundreds of tropical milkweed seeds sold in a pack for maybe a dollar or five.

Let's be real. Producers haven't figured out the magic ticket to pumping out native milkweeds like they have with tropical milkweed--as such, finding native milkweeds for sale is rare, and they're often pricier. And as someone who's been to a native plant sale and found the stands sold out of milkweeds not even 30 minutes into the event--you are likely not the only person wanting native milkweeds. It is war out there in the garden parties.

And that's assuming you've actually found native milkweed for sale! As you get better with milkweed IDs, you'll be able to clearly identify the liars who are telling you they've got something that they don't, but for those who aren't In The Know--if you see a milkweed labeled like a native milkweed and want to buy native milkweed, it might be too late by the time you realize you just got sold tropical milkweed with a mislabel. Whether its on accident or on purpose, it still bites.

I've asked some of my favorite, smaller greenhouses if they'd be willing to start selling native milkweeds. Most of the time I get an exasperated 'I would love to.' But they can only sell what the vendors can produce--so if they can't find a vendor that's selling swamp milkweed (or at least reliably), then they can't give me swamp milkweed when I poke my head in asking if they have any in stock. Of all the times I've gone to dozens of different green houses and gardening events, in different cities even, to see if they have any native milkweeds I've only had success a few times--one small vendor who only has them in stock at events sometimes (and that's if I don't show up late), and the one time I rolled into a not-big-box-but-not-small gardening store near my friends house after being sad that I couldn't find it at a different gardening event. And the one I found there was the last one they had in stock for the next month or two. Until The Vendors get better at growing native milkweeds, your best bet is going to be growing it from seed yourself, getting a start from a friend, or dumb luck at smaller nurseries and events. It's rough out here, friends.

Granted! Keep in mind! That whole last paragraph was personal anecdotes. It's entirely possible that other places' greenhouses have already caught on, and I'm simply in the shadowlands where nobody's selling native milkweeds except for once or twice a year and selling out within 20 minutes of opening their damn booth. And I've heard tell of people getting milkweed popping up willingly in their backyards by doing things as simple as not mowing. I pray you have better luck than I do, young Padawan.

Now, keep in mind, there are people actively working on this. Whether its a team of university scientists dedicating themselves to a project, or a few home-growers in a sunny backyard and a greenhouse doing their damn best to grow native milkweeds as efficiently as possible for themselves and their friends, there are people working on this, sharing advice and communicating online. This isn't some unresolved issue that no one has noticed. We just... aren't at the end post yet. Until then, we scrounge for what we can.

'Oh no, oh god, I have a bunch of tropical milkweed plants in my garden!! Am I a bad person?!?!'

No You Are Not A Bad Person For Growing Tropical Milkweed

And I'm perfectly honest about that. Because I'm here telling you this and I've still got tropical milkweed plants in my backyard. As that one comic once said, about 10,000 people learn something new every day, and unfortunately today that 'new thing' is a bit sad and a bit untimely. In full honesty, oftentimes in my brain I refer to Tropical Milkweed as Starter Milkweed--its what a lot of pollinator gardeners end up starting with, because its just so available! But! There are things that you can do to mitigate the Damage that tropical milkweed can bring to your backyard butterflies.

Step One: Cut back your milkweeds! At least once a year, maybe even twice a year if you want. This will force them to put out new growth, which will be free of OE spores and give monarchs on it a good head start against the Disease. But for sure, for sure, cut your milkweeds back in the fall--once October hits, I go into the backyard and I snip down everything that's tropical milkweed. Usually at this point (at least for me), the milkweeds don't try to grow back again until spring. This is to prevent monarchs from seeing a buffet and getting locked in the freezer.

Step Two: Cut back seed pods! You would not believe how many seed pods milkweed makes. You see those little green footballs? You wanna snip these back ASAP. Even if they're tiny, but especially if they're bit. In peak flower production times, I'll go out there at least once a week and just do a look-back and cut them off. You can even yoink them off with your hands if you're in a rush--just don't get that sap into your eyes. If you do this, you're stopping seed production in its tracks--and don't forget, these plants want nothing more than to split those pods open and unleash a hellfire of flying seeds all over the place. They'll float on air, they'll float on water, they'll do whatever until they land on a prime patch of soil and get started.

If you see these you're a tinge too late. But also still yoink that off and Dispose of it.

Step 3: Don't give cuttings to your friends. It's tempting. If you're raising caterpillars in a little enclosure and see that every time you refresh your cuttings, the old ones have tons of roots and are ready for a little pot of soil and a name tag? Don't. Resist the best you can. Dispose of your cuttings whenever you go in for a trim.

Step 4: Consider replacing them with something else! I know I already went off about just how hard it was to find native milkweeds for sale, how expensive and difficult they can be to grow--but they're not impossible to grow, and putting in the effort could be worth it! Even as I speak, I'm trying to add as many native milkweeds to my garden as possible--and when I've got something that grows reliably in my backyard, I will eagerly rip up my aging tropical milkweed plants and promptly toss them in the bin so i can put a new, better milkweed in its place. Native milkweeds are more likely to be suited to your environment, making it easier to maintain and more welcoming to the pollinators we gardeners want to help. Not to mention, a lot of them are way pettier than tropical milkweed (in my opinion). Do some hunting online to see what's native to your area--your state's extensions office will likely be great for this! You've likely got great variety--the state of Florida has 21 native milkweeds! Who knows how many your state has! (Not me, I am Floridian, and I am already getting dizzy trying to learn about all 21 of our milkweeds).

Conclusion!

Anyone who knows me knows I'm not gonna be the one to discourage someone from starting a garden, especially a pollinator gardener, and especially growing milkweed. But avoid tropical milkweed when you can--the harms it can cause far outweigh the quick satisfaction of a busy garden it can bring. Take some time to select a native plant more suited to your area, give it some friends and some time, and soon you'll have an amazing pollinator garden that'll be teeming with life!

[bestworstcase]

@cryptidblues tumblr ate this one too, maybe drop tumblr support a line to check if you’ve been erroneously shadowbanned 

Oscar is dying! He’s dying! We’re getting the full weight and crisis of the merge in volume 10 I NEED IT. The image of him collapsed on the sand as the sunrises with his back to the long memory OOUGH just like Ruby and crescent rose after she drank the tea, before the tree took her. The reversal on “I don’t want to be me anymore” / please let me stay myself. The lad is being eaten alive! From the inside out! By an unstoppable brain parasite that will kill him! And Replace Him! I Need the slow build up of horror from Oscar and everyone involved. “And Oscar…just isn’t himself” they’re place setting. Getting the table ready. Ooh yknow he’s hiding those merge episodes/attacks from his friends. I NEED the existential terror and dread! BUT I NEED THE CATHARSIS OF OSCAR BEING KNOWN, SEEN & SAVED TOO ;-;

NOT to make a post oscar about ozma instead but the thing that is really, really pulling the hinges off for me is the implication that this is happening because oz started actively fighting the merge. as long as oscar resisted and oz kept up the drumbeat of “this is inevitable, there is nothing either of us can do,” the curse kept on quietly eroding oscar as the boundary became thinner and thinner between them. it was, for lack of a better term, stable. 

the moment oz tries to resist, the curse starts trying to rip him forward. to force him to take over, inflicting what seems to be torturous amounts of pain on both of them. the subtle, silent, invisible violence that was inflicted on oscar before explodes outward to attack both of them. 

how many times have i said this curse is specifically designed to make it impossible for ozma to change? that the whole point is to prevent ozma from ever changing his mind or defying the god of light? never doubt me. the literal fucking instant ozma tries to break free, the curse becomes YOU DO NOT HAVE A CHOICE. 

the curse had a failsafe the whole time.

/ozma tangent

oscar though. this poor kid. like the greatest burden on his shoulders in the last four volumes has always been that no one wants to openly acknowledge what’s happening to him and the nature of the merge’s violence being so completely internal means that no one has to look at it except him. and he’s been so isolated in that existential dread but he’s also grown so accustomed to being treated like just. the next ozpin. that when the violence abruptly becomes externalized in reaction to oz’s resistance, oscar… hides it. keeps it to himself. somewhere deep down the idea that it doesn’t matter to anyone what happens to him got lodged in his brain so deeply that he keeps it hidden!!

and i’m obsessed with the emotional complexity the layers of what he’s feeling with regard to ruby, because it’s not as simple as that he misses her and aspires to her optimism; there’s also some underlying resentment there (“you were always so sure that everything would work out…right up until the moment it didn’t” <- paraphrasing) because she was wrong and he wishes he could borrow her certainty but she was wrong. she fell. she was wrong. 

BUT AT THE SAME TIME, everyone else believes that they’re gone forever. that they’re dead. oscar doesn’t. he’s thinking about it in terms of where they might have gone, what might have happened to them, he’s doing research because deep down, there’s a teeny tiny spark of hope that hasn’t been extinguished yet. so there’s this subtext of i wish i had your certainty. even though you were wrong. i’m still trying to find you. we’re still fighting this. you always saw me for who i really was. i don’t know who i am anymore.—there’s this tension throughout the monologue between bitterness and hope, and i don’t know if oscar is even capable of seeing that he is still hopeful or that he does have, if not ruby’s kind of certainty, something of his own that rhymes. he’s feeling this bleak about everything and still trying to figure out where they are because he doesn’t believe they’re dead. 

it was oscar’s idea to put the memorial where the portal had been. it’s taller than a person and shaped like a door. it’s a memorial but it’s also a symbol; the portal is gone, but they were inside it still, we should build our own door so they can find their way home. and then they do, according to the context given. the blacksmith gave them a doorway that went right through their memorial.  ETA: never mind, misremembered

ruby confronting and facing his mortality after running away from it for three volumes to galvanize her to really try to save him vs oscar doing whatever he can think of to somehow save her while roiling in all these complicated painful feelings about how no one cares to know how he’s suffering because it isn’t like there’s any real hope for him. tasty!

[riotwritesthings]

Hiii yellow or turquoise from the lovely pan flag If you want to <3

this is so dumb idk, I lost all control please enjoy

Fluttering Yellow and Turquoise

WinterIron - T, 1.8k - Crack, Banter

-

Tony blinks his way to consciousness and finds that he’s staring up at the warm glow of sunlight through a thick canopy of leaves.

“Ew,” he says, “why am I in a forest?”

The last thing he remembers is some kind of strange energy surging through the tower, the lights flickering and his hair standing on end, and then-

He woke up here. Tony really wishes he was more surprised.

“It’s always a portal,” he sighs as he climbs to his feet, brushing leaves and twigs from his clothes. “I better not be the only one who got caught up in this bullshit,” he grumbles, looking around.

He’s surrounded by massive trees, thick underbrush, and he doesn’t know nearly enough about plants to have a hope of figuring out where he is. He also doesn’t see anyone else around, and worst of all, the portal just had to scoop him up in the middle of getting dressed. He can already feel all the bugs coming for his bare chest and the countless parasites digging their way into his bare feet. Awesome.

After a couple seconds of mental debate, he decides to hell with the risk and shouts, "Hello?! Anyone else here? Even a rude portal-creator, maybe?"

The only reply is the soft rustle of leaves above him and the drone of insects.

“Rude,” he mutters, “they could have at least been around to pick a fight or something after magicking me here.”

He looks around again, but every direction looks the same, just trees and bushes and more trees. He’ll have to just pick a direction at random if he wants to go looking for… anything. He’s also pretty sure that the general rule is to not move when lost, but does it really count as lost when he’s been transported here against his will? And then just left alone to be eaten by insects?

“Ugh,” he groans as he swats at a bug that’s hovering around the light of the arc reactor, "this is why I hate magic. And anything even magic related, it all sucks."

From above him comes a chuckle, then a pained groan, and Tony whips his head up to find Bucky tangled in vines and dangling from thick tree branches about thirty feet above him.

“Oh hey,” Tony calls in greeting, “the portal got you too?”

“Looks like,” Bucky sighs, then starts to struggle against the vines and only accomplishes making himself swing and sway in place. “Why don’t I get to be on the ground?” He groans as he stills again.

“The portal likes me more I guess,” Tony says with a shrug, then wrinkles his nose and adds, “I’m not actually sure I’m happy about that.”

“Least you didn’ have to fall through th’ canopy,” Bucky grumbles, just loud enough for Tony to hear.

"Ooh, look who knows his forest terms," Tony says and then laughs as Bucky starts struggling uselessly again. “Do you not have a knife to cut yourself free?!”

Bucky stops wiggling to glare at him, and then reluctantly admits, “I don’t have one on me.”

“What?” Tony demands with another laugh, temporarily distracted from his anger at the mysterious portal, “Who even are you?!”

“Ha ha,” Bucky says dryly, “You know Sam won’t let me spar with concealed weapons anymore.”

“We’ve all heard the argument,” Tony says with a roll of his eyes, “One time he breaks his toes kicking you in the boot knife, and he’ll never let it go.” A thought occurs to him and he looks around the thick forest again as he asks, “So you were with Sam when the magic hit? I guess step one is figuring out if anyone else has been personally victimized by teleportation.”

"Step one should be you get up here an’ help me," Bucky says grumpily.

“Bold of you to assume I have a knife,” Tony says, “I don’t even have a shirt.” He swats at the bugs buzzing around his chest again and then starts eyeing the trunks of the trees that Bucky is tangled in, trying to figure out how the hell he’s going to do this.

The thick vines wrapped around everything give him hand-holds at least, so Tony grits his teeth and starts climbing. It’s a slow process, the air is thick with humidity, making everything slick and his bare feet slip off of the vines as he tries to make his way up. He’s pretty sure he can feel Bucky getting more and more impatient, and when Tony pauses to glance up he also feels pretty damn impatient about how little progress he’s made.

“Is this a bad time to mention I’ve never climbed a tree?” Tony asks sheepishly, risking letting go of the vines with one hand so he can wipe sweat from his forehead.

“Nah, seems pretty relevant,” Bucky replies, and it looks a lot like he’s trying to fight down a smile, “fair warning, if you fall I am gonna laugh.”

“Great encouragement,” Tony grumbles and returns his attention to climbing.

He has a couple of close calls, but he doesn’t actually fall to his probable death and manages to make his way up to where Bucky is dangling with minimum embarrassment.

“Wow, you are really tangled in here,” he says once he gets a look at how thoroughly Bucky is wrapped in vines and covered with loose leaves.

“Thanks, I hadn’ noticed,” Bucky says, his voice as dry as the desert, and Tony almost loses his hold when he can’t help but laugh.

“Stop,” Tony says, “this is gonna be the most dangerous part, don’t make me laugh. I might fall, I might cut you instead of the vines, who knows, anything could happen.” As expected, he nearly loses his balance trying to wiggle out the knife that, thank fuck, is still in the front pocket of his jeans, and Tony quickly adjusts his position so he can wrap his legs tightly around a sturdy branch. “Pole dance lessons, don’t fail me now,” he mutters under his breath, but apparently Bucky catches it.

“What?” He asks with a laugh.

“Nothing, you didn’t hear that,” Tony says quickly.

“I definitely did,” Bucky says, still laughing, “how has Rhodes never mentioned that in his ‘embarrassing Tony’ stories?”

"Because I threatened him with death," Tony hisses, “now stop laughing, I have a knife here.”

Bucky just grins at him, giving Tony’s admittedly small pocket knife a pointed look before his eyes go wide. “Is that the knife I gave you?” He asks, the teasing gone from his voice.

Tony looks at the knife thoughtfully even though he knows it is. It’s the only pocket knife he owns, because Bucky had gotten hilariously offended that he didn’t have one and had immediately pulled one out of his packet to all but force it into Tony’s hands.

“Impossible to say for sure,” Tony finally says dismissively, because it's that or admit he’s been carrying it pretty much constantly.

“Thought you weren’t gonna carry it,” Bucky says with a knowing grin that does dangerous things to Tony’s pulse.

“Shut up, I don’t know how it got in my pocket,” Tony grumbles, trying to ignore the heat in his cheeks and pointedly turning his attention to cutting Bucky free. The knife is razor sharp, no doubt Bucky’s doing, and it makes quick work of the vines.

“Get my hands first,” Bucky requests, wiggling the only two fingers that apparently aren’t trapped, “I don’t wanna fall any more.”

“And here I was planning on dropping you right on your pretty face,” Tony sighs, then bites his tongue while Bucky laughs.

With each vine that he cuts through Bucky drops an inch or two, swaying in place, and every time he makes a barely audible sound that Tony is trying really hard not to laugh at. He cuts another vine and Bucky lets out a queasy groan as he drops a little further.

“Don’t throw up,” Tony pleads, and he’s only half joking.

“I do not like this,” Bucky groans and what Tony can see of his face is pale, “I changed my mind, jus’ drop me.”

“Didn’t Sam say you just- jumped out of a plane, once?” Tony has to ask as he starts slicing through the vines a little more haphazardly.

"Yeah, an’ I regretted it, but don‘t tell him that,” Bucky says with a weak huff of laughter, “‘sides, that’s different, a quick fall an’ its over. This is- ugh, jus’ hanging here- if this takes much longer I really might- Fuck!”

A bunch of the vines snap at once with a surprisingly loud sound and Bucky drops further, jerking and swearing loudly. Something catches the branch that Tony is clinging to, and he only has a split second to feel it tip with a deep groan before it breaks and Tony falls too. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to prepare himself for an abrupt meeting with the ground, but instead he feels familiar metal fingers wrap around his wrist before he comes to a sudden stop.

Tony dares to squint one eye open and finds that he’s still dangling about ten feet off the ground. The branch he was on has landed in a massive bush that Tony is very glad he’s not also in, because the leaves are rustling aggressively with the stirring of countless bugs.

“Do not drop me in the murder hornet nest,” Tony demands as he shoots a quick glance up at Bucky, who’s clinging to another branch with one hand and Tony with the other.

“It might not be anything murderous,” Bucky says, but he doesn’t sound very confident. He does tighten his grip around Tony’s wrist at least, even when Tony jerks with a yelp as an explosion of color bursts out of the bush.

“Don’t let them eat me,” Tony says in a panic, trying to pull himself up and climb Bucky’s arm as wings flutter all around him.

"Then stop moving," Bucky returns as they both swing wildly, and Tony reluctantly does.

“Oh,” he says when he finally stills enough to see the bugs, “it’s butterflies. Butterflies don’t eat people, right?”

“Pretty sure no,” Bucky replies with a snort.

Tony looks up at him again as the butterflies continue to swarm past them in a riot of yellow and turquoise wings, making their way up towards the sunlight. Bucky has a small grin on his face as he watches it, and when he notices Tony watching him he smiles wider.

“Not th’ worst time we’ve ever been victimized by magic, huh?” Bucky asks, and Tony doesn’t think he notices that a butterfly has landed on his head, slowly flapping its wings.

Tony has to swallow his heart back down where it belongs before he can grudgingly admit, “Maybe second worst.”

Bucky laughs, sending the butterfly flying again, and Tony can only smile back.

[bookwormbynight]

I don't know much about dracula--tell me more about the au perhaps??

Oooh I gotchu babe. So. To be fair. In Dracula, Lucy's entire story is only a piece of the whole thing, and there's a lot of ambiguity surrounding the actual events (everything was documented by her horrified friend who only saw the aftermath) which is part of the horror (also Dracula didn't seem to have any attachment to Lucy in particular). However, the Lucy bit is what grabbed my brain and there are multiple things from it we can grab and stick onto Light.

No one thinks it's vampires when Light/ucy starts having nightmares, reporting a feeling of someone sitting on them at night, occasionally sleepwalking out of the house before someone finds them, and, most obviously, exhibiting symptoms of anemia out of nowhere with bite marks on their neck, but this is because no one THINKS to think it's vampires. Maybe you have a parasite in your room, Light, let's change the mattress? Is it an illness?? Wtf is happening??

I think, unlike Dracula who literally only Mina's (missing) husband knows, L should be a part of their lives, at least briefly. And have some reason to notice Light. I'm not sure how or why yet?

But this would add to the fun when Light starts accusing L of doing something to him and L being like 'who, me??' and both of them know that he's right even though Light doesn't exactly know the details.

I don't think L would need to steal a wolf from the zoo in order to get at Light that final time, but it should be big and dramatic. Maybe Light wouldn't be asleep when L comes to turn him. We all know Light would fight for his life hard and nasty.

Ooh, also, it's unclear how exactly vampires are turned in the book. Lucy doesn't let us know and we KNOW it isn't just 'get killed by a vampire' because the three sexilicious vampire ladies eat a kid and that kid never shows up again (read Dracula guys I swear), but since Dracula feeds Mina his blood on 'camera' and it does Something to her still-human body, I'm gonna say it's feeding a human your vampire blood and then having their heart stop. So L's gonna force-feed Light some blood and make him swallow it once he's got the upper hand, and Light's death wound is gonna be large and gorey. (And slowly... disappear... as the funeral comes closer and the days go on, hmmm, that's odd, dead bodies don't usually heal themselves, but no one notices because the wound was sealed and covered so they could have an open casket.)

Lucy's funeral was kind of the main event. Stoker spent literal paragraphs describing the beauty of her corpse (weird thing to do bisexual king), the redness in her lips, the fact that huh, there's a slight wrinkle in her nose (Van Helsing just covered her in garlic flowers), did she die like that? It's Snow White Sleeping Beauty levels of dead gorgeous. And then, of course, the rising. Lucy rises from the grave to feed on the blood of local children, until the Squad catches her and kills her once and for all. Of course, we're not gonna use that bit, because L wouldn't let half of that happen and Light's not gonna aim for children, but the fact that she rose at all is part of what makes her story so notable, and contributed to the inspiration for this AU.

Any other questions? <3

[redheartedtramp]

KA-DON!

Jaune: *pins Weiss to a tree*

Weiss: Ooh, Jaune~ You're being so direct today. Did something happen?

Jaune: I just thought you'd like this kind of thing.

Jaune: *proceeds to grip Weiss' chin and tilts her head up* Do you?

Weiss: Ooh, I definitely like this.

As the two get closer, there is a loud clearing of the throat. Both of them look over their shoulder to see Ruby.

Weiss: ....Ruby, do you, uh, mind? We're-

Jaune: *jumps off of Weiss and starts running*

Weiss: J-Jaune?!

Jaune: Nononononononono-

Ruby pulls out a dart gun and shoots it at Jaune's neck, causing him to fall over. His aura flashes and then shatters as Jaune convulses and screams.

Weiss: Jaune! Ruby, what are you doing?!

Jaune: You fucking bitch! You crazy fucking-

Ruby: *pulls out a collapsable scythe that is not Crescent Rose and she dashes at Jaune, then casually lops his head off* That's another one.

Weiss: Ruby?! What the fuuuuuuuuuu-?! *clutches her head as she falls to her knees* Wh...what's going on?!

Ruby: Don't worry, you're just going through Psychic Shock. Your brain will catch up in a minute.

Weiss: RUBY, WHAT IS THIS?! WHY DID YOU CALL JAUNE?!

Ruby: He wasn't Jaune.

Weiss: ...WHAT?!

Ruby: Well, not your Jaune. Just like how I'm not your Ruby.

Weiss: YOU'RE NOT MAKING SEN-

Weiss then sees a memory of Jaune carrying her through the woods when she broke her leg. Then, the memory goes up in flames as the memory erases itself.

Weiss: W-wha...what was that?

Ruby?: That's the Psychic Shock. Those false memories are being erased from your mind.

Weiss: False memories?

Ruby?: You see, Weiss, this is not your Jaune. This Jaune is part of a cabal of Multiversal Jaunes. They're variants of a 'True Jaune', the dorky, try-hard, endearing man who wants to be a hero. These Jaunes, who we call 'Jaune Parasites' because they all have implanted themselves with a psychic parasite. It feeds on their aura, which they can produce plenty of, and they use their psychic powers to implant false memories into others in an attempt to insert themselves either into the lives of others or insert themselves deeper and make themselves more important.

Weiss: But...why?

Ruby?: To conquer. Mostly so they can have any woman, or women, they want in large, multiverse-level harems. It's humorous in a way, since conquering multiple universes are almost a secondary goal to them.

Weiss: Then...what are you?

Ruby?: Oh, right. I'm Ruby Rose. Or, well, not your Ruby. I'm Ruby-837.

Weiss: You're the 837th Ruby?

Ruby-837: Actually, my serial number is Ruby 837-93 GAMMA, but let's keep this simple.

Weiss: Then...is the Jaune I know...you know...

Ruby-837: Dead? No. He's in a broom closet on the second floor.

Weiss: Oh my God, how long has he been in there?! Days?! Weeks?! Months?!

Ruby-837: About 20 minutes.

Weiss: ...Oh.

Ruby-837: Come on, Weiss. Keep up. Psychic parasites. They implant a lifetime's worth of memories into your head. Though, it's good I caught this early. Your Jaune would've been infected with the parasite and made into another 'alpha male stud' to start trying to conquer other universes.

Weiss: That's horrible!

Ruby-837: Yeah. The fact he was knocked out though at least means this is a decent Jaune. So, you know, if you have any actual feelings for him, then he's clean.

Ruby's wrist starts beeping.

Ruby-837: Oh, gotta go. Got a Code Gold going on. It's a pretty big deal. *takes her scythe and cuts open a portal* Have a good life, Weiss.

Weiss: Wait! I have one more question!

Ruby-837: ...Alright, but make it fast. I've got a multi-dimensional tyrant to stop.

Weiss: ...What...what happened to your Jaune? Did he go bad?

Ruby-837: *giggles* Weiss, Jaunes don't go bad. *she pulls up her blouse and shows multiple scars around her torso. There's a burn mark in the shape of Jaune's crest under her ribs* Some are just more selfish than others.

Weiss: Oh my God!

Ruby-837: *lowers her shirt* Your Jaune is a good one. So even if you don't slap a ring on him, make sure he stays a good man. I'd hate to have to come back and cut 'em down. *leaves through the portal*