#radioactive glow from this man

[komtrolls]

Bro don’t fake ur blood color for your own protection and then get found out by the fuzz that’s so cringe…

[gutsheapofrawiron]

"I have no problem following the rules as long as I understand the reason for it" ok we get it Ti-dom lookin ass

[thestuffedalligator]

The goblin looked at the orc. The orc looked at the goblin. They both looked down at the crumpled shape of the Overlord, His Unholy Majesty, in his obsidian armor.

His final spasms had been mesmerizingly acrobatic. The fall down the steps leading up to his iron throne had pretzelled his body quite impressively, both arms folded behind his back and one leg bent at a jaunty angle.

The goblin looked at the orc. The orc looked at the goblin.

"Shit," said the goblin.

"Shit," said the orc.

"We're likely to get blamed for this," the goblin said. She walked over to the head of the glittering mangled heap and started pulling the helmet off.

"It's not our fault," the orc said. "It's hard to help someone choking when they wear two-hundred pounds of spiked armor at all times."

"Yeah, well," the goblin grunted. The helmet came free, and the bald head of the Overlord bounced on the stone with a hollow, coconut noise. "You know how it is in this bloody country - thieves get their heads cut off so they can't think about thieving, and all that." She fished in the Overlord's mouth with a finger and pulled out the obstructing olive on the end of her claw.

She popped it into her mouth and chewed. "What do you reckon they do for a regicide?" she said.

"We should run," the orc said. She had started bouncing her leg. "I hear that there's some places in the Alliance where they just kill you and let you stay dead. That's got to be nicer than what'll happen if we stay here."

The goblin started to nod - and then her gaze fell on the helmet.

It looked like a pineapple designed by a deranged blacksmith. It was all thorns and spikes and hard edges, as though the maker had been very determined to not let pigeons roost on it. The only bits that weren't solid iron were eyeholes. Nobody had ever seen the Overlord's face.

She held up the helmet and squinted from it to the orc. One of the thorns had been bent badly in the fall.

Nobody had ever seen the Overlord's face...

"Right," she muttered. "Right. Could work - or."

The orc had a sudden vision of the immediate future. "No," she said.

"I mean you're about his height-"

"No."

"It would just be for a-"

"Absolutely not."

"Just hear me out," the goblin said. "Outside of this room are two-thousand men and orcs and goblins who are absolutely gonzo about this man, and there's a whole country of them outside of the castle, and at any moment someone's going to walk in that door and see one dead tit in black armor and two unbelievably dead idiots next to him.

"Or." She tossed the helmet up like a basketball to the orc, who fumbled and tried to find somewhere to hold it that wasn't a knife's edge. "We chuck him out the window now, walk out the door in the armor, and ditch the armor as soon as nobody sees us."

The orc had started bouncing her leg again. "They'll know something's up the second I walk out of the room."

"No worries," said the goblin. "Leave that to me."

---

It had been a very strange year for the Empire.

Change had rolled across the land as slow and inevitable as a glacier. Roads and bridges carved the gray, blasted wildlands, and a number of social reforms had made the country a place where you could be miserable, yes, but miserable in comfort and safety, and that was an improvement.

Barely anyone got boiled alive in molten metal, and even if the disgusted sun never rose to light the Empire, at least you had a roof over your head to protect yourself from the acid rain.

"Your empire flourishes, Your Unholy Majesty," the magician said over her wine glass. She looked down from the tower's balcony over the gleaming stone battlements. Some work had been done to line the castle and surrounding city with sizzling, crackling alchemical lights at night. The whole thing glowed like something dangerously radioactive.

The suit of armor waved a languid, glittering gauntlet over to the goblin, who bowed.

"His Abominable Gloriousness Thanks You," the goblin recited. "The Prosperity Of His Empire Can Only Be Achieved Through The Prosperity Of His People."

"If I may be so bold, I am quite pleased that you had chosen to take my counsel under consideration," said the magician. "We have accomplished many things together."

Another wave. Another bow. "The Overlord, May His Presence Swallow The Sun And Stars, Thanks You As Well."

"It was quite gratifying to see you change your mind, after so many centuries of denial." The wine was swirled. "Tell me, what was it that finally gave you cause to listen to me?"

There was the slightest hesitation. The goblin's eyes flicked to the armor, then to the magician. She puffed out her chest. "Do you question the wisdom of His Austere Lugubriousness?" she asked.

The magician looked at the goblin. She looked at the armor. She tipped her head back and drank the wine too quickly.

She looked back at the armor. "I know you're the orc, you moron," she said.

The room went deathly still. An alchemical light fizzled.

The orc pulled off the helmet, sending long, untied hair down tangling, and said: "How could you possibly-"

"Because you're both idiots!" the magician said. The goblin jumped. The orc jumped with a noise like a dropped stove. "What kind of a plan was this?! If it wasn't for me, you would have been turned into fertilizer months ago."

She closed her eyes. She took a long, dramatic breath. She set the wine glass down on the balcony rail.

"How did the Overlord die?" she asked when she seemed like she had gotten a hold over herself.

"Choked on an olive," said the goblin.

"Threw his body out the window," said the orc.

"You don't have to mention the window," said the goblin.

"Right," said the orc. "Sorry."

The magician looked out over the city, hand curled thoughtfully under her nose. "Who knows about this?"

"Just us. And, uh. You. Apparently."

"And why did you accept my counsel?"

The orc blinked. "Sorry?"

"Why did you accept my counsel?" the magician repeated.

"Well," the orc said. "Well - you seemed like you had good ideas-"

"Great ideas!" the goblin said with an edge of desperation. "Don't know why the old bastard didn't listen to you!"

"Right - right," said the orc. "And when we figured we were stuck doing this - well, it just made sense, really."

The magician seemed to absorb this. She nodded. "All right," she said, striding between the two and grabbing the crystal decanter.

"Um," said the orc. "Sorry. What happens now?"

"What happens is that you two will continue to serve as Overlord," said the magician. "You will continue to take my counsel. We will continue to reform this bloody country, and gods willing, we will turn it into the crown jewel of the world by next Midwinter."

The orc looked at the goblin. The goblin looked at the orc.

"Really?" the goblin asked.

"Oh yes," said the magician. "I've worked hard to be counsel to the Overlord, and I have no reason to stop now. And besides-"

She looked the orc up and down with a deliberate slowness, poring over every microscopic detail, eyes tracing over every jagged line, and grinned like a panther.

"You look much better in the armor than he ever did," she said. Dark robes swirled like a becleavaged thundercloud, and she strode out through the high iron doors, decanter in hand.

The goblin looked at the orc. The orc looked at the goblin.

"Shit," said the goblin.

"Shit," said the orc.

[evilminji]

O.O!!! :Dc wait a second.... Aquaman >.>

Good JOB Brain! That IS a good idea!

Don't know if YOU GUYS all know this? But Arthur? Son of a Lighthouse keeper and the Queen of Atlantis? THAT Arthur Curry aka. Orin? Has CONSIDERABLY enhanced durability. Like... *hit by a car* "ha. Cute." Enhanced.

It's because of the DEEP Sea water pressure he's built for.

I bring this up? Because the man is a legit BAMF. Absolutely TERRIFYING near any body of water. Dude has SUPER STRENGTH AND HYDROKINESIS. Not ONLY are YOU filled with water, but every street corner in the world has pipes! He is NEVER not armed.

That's not including the "yes I can ask a lobster to take your dick off" thing.

But most of all? He has the RAGE. The lifetime of injustice after injustice. His home under attack, his people suffering and regarded as LESS. The poison dumped into their air. Their lands taken, PRESUMED the property of land dwellers.

Treated as criminals and monsters should they DARE defend themselves.

Yet? He is a leader. A husband, father, mentor. The death of his child can not take from him that title. Nor years numb that pain. He strives to be good. Be wise. Live well.

Yet? There is once AGAIN fuckery in his ocean. Some "secret" lab. Poking at a swirling green portal. At the BOTTOM OF THE SEA. For God's sake, they DO REALIZE, you can't HIDE things from him down here, RIGHT?

It looks radioactive.

He refuses to have that so close to Atlantis.

Sends a notice up to the Watchtower, a call back to his Wife, and leads the gaurd team in. Painfully easy, really. Bog standard humans, caught off gaurd. Right until one of them does something... stupid.

He tries to blow the place. Destroy evidence. It would kill all of them. Which is not Arthur's main concern. No, what IS? Is that it would dump radioactive SOMETHING into the waters near Atlantis.

He dives forward. They struggle. A button is smashed and...

Their containment field drops.

They had been keeping it in a perfect vacuum.

Arthur is sucked in.

Watches, in free fall, as his men's faces turn to horror. As they desperately dive to follow him. Loyal. True. But ultimately too late. He curses himself as he loses sit of them. But forces himself to focus, twist, get his feet under him. His is in air, above LAND.

He hits HARD.

But not the ground like he had planned.

He's slamed, at an awkward, frantic, angle and knocked off course. His weight crashing down onto a scrawny slip of a boy, who weezes and struggles to get a proper grip. His arms not quite long enough to go all the way around his barrel of a chest.

He helps, by slinging an arm over his young savior.

Only then, does he notice, the tiny crown of ice and nebula, poking at a jaunty angle from the child's head.

Their landing would be rough, had Arthur not caught them, once he gets close enough to the ground. The young royal gasping for air, having clearly pushed his limits to get to Arthur in time. He hauls himself up. Not yet a man, but not as young as Arthur feared. His eyes glow.

"Hoooly SHIT. Are you okay?! I hit you really hard! I'm so, SO sorry! I panicked! And-"

Honestly? A little bruised. But nothings he's going to ADMIT too.

More concerning? The injuries.

There's a screech of tires turning sharp corners. Sirens getting closer. The young king whips around. Terror seeping onto his face. It gives Arthur an unobstructed view of pointed ears, softly glowing skin with star like freckles, and scars that creep up the child's neck. He does not like the picture being painted.

"We have to GO. Now. Please, I'll explain in a moment! But we have to go NOW!"

Really, REALLY does not like the picture. And he has WAYS of dealing with such things as this. But safety first. Prioritize the children. They go. He vows to get answers. And all around Amity? Certain individuals days are NUMBERED.

@babbling-babull @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @hypewinter @mutable-manifestation @lolottes @nerdpoe

[rey-129-fan]

Gotham-Amity Co-op AU Part 3

Part 1 | Previous | Next

“Hola beauties, and welcome back to Fashionable History, I’m Paulina,”

“And I’m Star, and on this channel, we teach you how to be at the height of fashion, no matter what time period you find yourself in.”

“Now for our long-time viewers who missed our community posts, you might be wondering about the change in location.  Well, we are moving up in the world.  That’s right, fam, we are officially-

“College girlies!” The two shouted into the camera.

“Ah, such a big step,” ‘Star’ sighed.

“Indeed it is.  And to celebrate, let us dress up like we’re going to meet the queen of fashion herself: Marie Antoinette!”

***

“So you would think it would be hard to demonstrate Amity Park’s weirdness while no longer living there, but you would be wrong,” a black man said into the camera while walking down a hallway, his glasses fallen ever so slightly down his nose.  There were voices in the background progressively getting louder.  “You see, Danny’s mentor popped by this morning, and apparently, he decided that the perfect way to tutor Danny and piss off his bosses at the same time was to allow a bunch of college kids to summon a historical figure of their choosing to discuss their area of expertise.  Once a week.

“Jazz got to go first.”

The black man stopped in a doorway.  Much clearer in the background was a woman’s even voice.  “And Jazz, being the future psychologist that she is, picked the most sex-obsessed man in history.”

The camera flipped to show a young red-head sitting across an older man with a white beard in a blue three piece suit.  In the background was a younger man, his blue eyes glazed over as he sat there sipping from his mug, his head of black hair bobbing as he fought to stay awake.  Really, it wouldn’t gather a second glance, except for the tiny detail that the older man’s skin was as green as a sunburnt person’s was red.

“-indeed homosexuality is not an illness, and in fact the only link between it and mental health has been observed to be caused by familial and community reactions.”

“That is good to hear.  Indeed, many people throughout history were homosexual, and a lot of them did not show any other signs of mental illnesses.”

“It is.  However, with the recent pushes for public acceptance of those not heterosexual, many have come forward with sexual orientations beyond just hetero and homosexuality, including those that are attracted to both men and women at the same time, as well as those who experience no sexual attraction or are completely repulsed by the idea of anything sexual.”

The camera flipped back to the first man.  “She is explaining how psychology has developed in the last 100 years without trying to rip apart Freud’s work.

“This isn’t even the first time something like this has happened.  Occasionally, we’d get guest speakers that would turn out to be some famous author or pioneer in their field.  It’s how our English teacher got his copy of the Tempest signed by the original author.  I think this might be the first one that won’t end in a raid by government idiots in white, though.

“So yeah, we occasionally get to talk to dead celebrities and don’t bat an eye at it.  Amity Park is very weird.”

***

“Danny!  You left your cups in the sink again!”

“How can you tell it’s mine?”

“They’re glowing green and you’re the only one that drinks ectoplasm!  Now take care of them before you bring the food to life again!”

“Fine…”

The camera pans over to a goth woman giving the camera a flat look.  On screen, there’s some text that reads: ‘When your boyfriend forgets to clean off his dishes after his mildly radioactive smoothies.’

***

“Urgh!” Just die you stupid, lazy skeleton!”

“How long is this attack going to be!”

“I don’t care, because when it’s finally my turn, I am going to stab the dust out of this depressed sack of bones!”

On screen was a couch, and on that couch sat 3 young adults, two women and one man.  One of the women was Valarie Gray, US National Taekwondo Silver Medalist, was jabbing her thumb down on the d-pad of her controller, lips pulled back in a snarl.  The other was Samantha Manson, more known for the TikTok channel Our Strange Lives.  The man was a muscular blond.  All three were focusing on the screen, their eyes emitting faint light and Valarie’s teeth seemed to be getting sharper.

Quietly a blond woman walked on screen, a backpack slung over her shoulder.  The woman was Star Strong from Fashionable History.

“You guys are still streaming?”

“This boss is stupid difficult and Manson and Gray are the only ones willing to play.”

“What happened to the guys?”

“Fowley, Wes, Singh all had work.  Fenton got to the first boss and then lost it because ‘Goat Mom just wanted to protect us’ before getting a call from his lil sis asking for help.  Kwan is working on a lab with a guy from his chem class, and Kyle passed out a couple hours ago.”

“Stop dodging!”

“Wanna play?”

“Can’t.  Going to the library to study for a calc exam I have coming up.  See you guys later.”

“Later.”

“FUC-”

***

“And so, with this polaroid image, we have evidence to prove that-”

“Hey, Wes, do you have something I can use for a collage?  Oh sweet, thanks bro!”

“What?  No!  Kyle!  Get back with that! That was the proof I was going to use to prove the existence of Yetis!”

“Oh damn.  This is some nice creature work!  Danny, your friend has an incredible costume, man!”

“Thanks, Kyle!  I’ll pass it on!”

***

Tim paused the video right as Wesley Weston stood to chase his older brother.

There.

The red-head’s eyes had a slight glow to them.  Tim clicked over to the other images he had gathered of the Amity Park teens, all with their eyes glowing or other signs of something inhuman.

Tim had been introduced to this group by Stephanie when she found a martial arts demonstration Gray did that involved breaking multiple boards, all several feet above her head.  Stephanie had meant it as a ‘check out his cool person doing what we’re doing,’ but Tim noticed something.  All the boards were being held by seemingly the same person- or at least people dressed very similarly.  And not in a way where they’re sitting on a ledge above Gray and are switching out the board each time she broke one.  More that there were multiple companies of the same white glove all holding a board and all floating several feet above where they should have been.  That was already a little weird, but it could’ve been some special effects or just a uniform.

No, what caught Tim’s attention was the quick glimpse of the face of one of the board holders.  It was youthful- late teens- but with paper white hair that showed no signs of bleaching.  Now these features would have been a thing to cement the mysterious person in Tim’s mind.  But it wasn’t that.

No, what got Tim to do some digging to find out about a previously unknown supposed hero from a small town that has been blacked-out by the US government, was his eyes.

His calm, glowing Lazarus green eyes.

***

So we finally get a taste for the shenanigans our liminals are up to. Sam, Tucker, and Danny all share a TikTok where they show off how weird the other two are and how weird their town is. Wes is trying to prove cryptids exist, which Kyle ruins. Dash has a gaming stream that most often Kwan joins in on, and Paulina and Star do dress history. Oh, and Valarie is a national taekwondo because karate has only been an event for one Olympic games, but taekwondo has been an event since 2000 and Val seems more like a kicker than a thrower. Plus, I actually took taekwondo when I was younger.

We do get another Bat showing up at the end. There is absolutely no plot, however, so who knows where this is going. Certainly not me!

I'm still looking for names (please, I need them). As for majors:

Jazz-Psych (obviously)

Kyle- Liberal Arts (I wanna put him in accounting, but Liberal Arts works for now)

Tuck- Comp Sci

Danny- Poly Sci, minor in Astronomy

Sam- Double Poly Sci and Environmental Science

Val- Criminal Justice

Dash- Undecided (both me and him)

Kwan- Pre-Med for now, though he wants to do Child Development/Education

Paulina- Fashion Marketing

Star- Sports Science

Mikey- Music

Wes- Journalism

[dandylovesturtles]

kids are about 8/9 here. idk what this is. happy 10 days to Halloween?

cw: violence, blood, gore (not the turtles'), cussing

-----

Later, Donnie would say going to the surface was Leo's idea, but really, it had been an unspoken joint decision. He wanted to search the trash in the alley for building materials, Leo was just annoyed at being treated like a baby. Sure, it made sense why Mikey wasn't allowed to go to the surface without Raph, but why were the two of them subject to the same rules? They were a whole year older!

So when Papa fell asleep in his chair, and with Raph chasing an uncooperative Mikey around, begging him to take a bath, Leo looked at Donnie, then at the exit to the tunnels, and Donnie followed him right out.

At first it was exhilarating. He and Leo had been to the surface several times now, but it was always with Raph or Splinter, and that meant it came with rules. Don't touch that. Stay where I can see you. Don't run off. There's too many humans that way. No you can't take that back to the lair, it's dangerous. On and on and on. But this time they were alone, and Donnie wasn't going to stop Leo from climbing the fire escape and petting the cats sitting on windowsills as long as Leo wouldn't tell him to put the old, broken electronics and jagged pieces of metal he found back in the dumpster.

And Leo didn't say a thing about it, other than to call him a nerd. Of course.

It was a cool night, but not so cold that it made Donnie shiver. It had rained recently, so everything was damp and there was a fog that held in the air. The only noise besides what the two of them made came from an old pair of vending machines right by the entrance to the street, buzzing and humming with electricity. Leo had already asked Donnie if he could "hack it" to get them some drinks and snacks, and Donnie had shooed him off so he could get back to his scavenging. But he was seriously considering giving it a try once his work was done.

Leo dropped off the fire escape and wandered closer to the street. It was deep into the night, but when Donnie looked he could still see Leo in the glow from the vending machine, so he didn't worry too much. He'd just found a perfectly good toaster that someone threw out, and he absolutely planned to take it back with him.

He'd just ducked down to tug at a box sticking out of the mound of trash, when he heard a voice echo off the bricks of the buildings.

"Yooo, dude. Did you see that!?"

"Shhh, shhh, hold on," said another voice, followed by some quick footsteps.

And then Leo yelped.

Donnie's heart was pounding against his plastron as he slowly and carefully peeked above the rim of the dumpster. Two big humans stood in the light of the vending machine; one of them had Leo, holding him by the lip of his shell where it opened for his head.

"The hell is this?"

"Looks like some kind of fucked up turtle."

"I knew the Hudson was radioactive, man."

Leo squirmed in their grasp, but they were way bigger and stronger, and they kept him from escaping. He didn't have his weapons, because Dad only let them have them when they were training ("You'll poke your eye out," he'd said). Fat lot of good that did them now.

"What do you think we could sell it for?" asked one of the humans.

"Who would even want it?"

"Dude, someone's gotta. A zoo or something!"

"Damn, you're right. It's worth a try, right?"

Donnie's blood ran cold. They were going to take Leo away. They were going to take his brother away, and he'd never see him again, never get to talk to him or play with him again, and Donnie

couldn't

let

that

happen.

Before he himself even knew what he was planning, he'd jumped out of the dumpster and shot straight toward the humans. They'd only just noticed him when he launched himself at the one holding Leo and bit, directly into the hairy, exposed flesh.

An agonized scream filled the alley.

The leg Donnie was biting began to shake and kick, frantically trying to dislodge him, but Donnie only bit down tighter, sinking all his teeth into the man, his jaws locking and refusing to let go. There was a thud as something hit the concrete beside him; the man was still screaming.

"GET HIM OFF ME! GET HIM OFF GET HIM OFF- OH SHIT-"

Human hands grabbed at Donnie and yanked, but he didn't let go. A disgusting, metallic taste filled his mouth, and something chewy and unpleasant was coming loose between his teeth.

The men were both yelling now, kicking, hitting, but Donnie didn't let go, he wouldn't, he couldn't-

Until he felt a hand wrap around his. Small, three-fingered, and as familiar as his own.

Donnie yanked back. The chewy thing between his teeth came with him. The man was still shrieking in pain, blood pouring down his leg and staining his socks and sneakers, snot and spittle hanging from his face.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" yelled the man.

Donnie and Leo scrambled backwards, hands locked tight together.

"Dude, we gotta get you to a hospital," said the uninjured man, grabbing the other human's arm and tugging. For a moment, the injured man fought back, waving his fists at Donnie and Leo.

"I'M GONNA KILL THAT THING!" the man screamed. A light came on in a window above.

"Come on, man, it probably has rabies," said the other human, still tugging. "Let's get out of here. Call animal control."

For a second, Donnie thought he would keep coming, even with a limp, but eventually he relented, and went with his companion. They could still here the man yelling as they disappeared from sight.

Donnie and Leo watched, still and silent in the shadows beyond the vending machines, for a very long moment. The only sounds in the alley were the electric hum of the vending machines, but it was louder now, somehow, louder and more annoying and pressing in on Donnie from all sides.

He suddenly became very aware of a sticky substance on his hands and arms and shoulders and face. The unpleasant taste was still in his mouth, as was the squishy thing, and it filled him with revulsion. He spat it out on the ground, and saw skin and hair and red stuff and-

He wanted to gag, but he couldn't. He could feel his muscles shutting down, the way they did sometimes. He hated this feeling, but he knew from experience he couldn't stop it. It was out of his control now.

The whine started at the back of his throat and built in intensity until it drowned out the sounds of the vending machines. His hands moved to clutch his head against his will, and he sank to the ground, curling up over his knees and pressing himself against them in a desperate bid to get it all to stop.

"Shoot, Dee," he heard Leo say, and then he moved away. Donnie couldn't open his eyes to see where he went, but a moment later he heard the sound of glass breaking.

A few seconds later, he heard a soft fizz, and then something cool was being pressed against his arm.

Slowly, he squinted his eyes open. He could barely stand it, but he had to do it, to see Leo in crouching in front of him, holding out a bottle of cola and signing at him to drink.

Clumsily, he took it. The mix of cola and the metallic taste in his mouth almost made him gag again, and he spat that out, too. Somehow, it helped. He repeated this action several more times, until the bottle was almost empty and his mouth was free of that terrible taste.

Then, slowly, a little at a time, he drank the rest.

The world backed down to a manageable level. Leo was still in front of him, looking worried. His eyes and face were wet, and Donnie didn't think it was from the mist.

Still, he met Donnie's eyes with a wobbly smile and asked, "Ready to go down?"

Hesitantly, Donnie stood up. When he didn't fall over, he nodded. Leo nodded back, then went to the manhole cover and opened it up.

Donnie didn't go back for the toaster. He didn't even remember it, really.

Leo gestured for Donnie to go down the ladder first, then covered over the hole behind them. They made their way to the bottom more slowly than they ever did with Raph, neither of them feeling up to any tricks tonight.

They walked back towards the lair in silent for a few minutes, while Donnie got his voice back. Leo waited for him to talk first, and Donnie appreciated that.

"...Where'd you get the soda?" he asked, when he could.

"Broke the glass on the vending machine with a rock," Leo explained. He gave Donnie a playful grin. "It's faster than hacking."

Donnie rolled his eyes at that. He could have done it if he'd had time!

They walked a bit further. Donnie was still covered in the sticky, gross substance, but when Leo reached for his hand again, Donnie took it.

"Thanks," said Leo, quieter now.

"I didn't want them to take you away," said Donnie honestly.

Leo's hand squeezed his. "I didn't want to go away," he said, his voice sounding strained.

Donnie stopped, and so did Leo. They turned to look at each other, as best as they could in the dark sewer tunnels.

Then Donnie launched himself at Leo, wrapping him in the tightest hug he could, and Leo hugged him back, burying his face in the soft place against Donnie's neck and shell. Donnie could feel something wet land on him, but he didn't mind because it wasn't sticky like the other stuff.

He just held Leo tight, and Leo held back, for a long while.

(They were still like that when Splinter and Raph found them. The blood freaked them out, and learning it wasn't Donnie's hadn't reassured them.

They were grounded for three weeks, but they still got to be together and read comics, so really, it wasn't too bad.)

[xxoxobree]

The Boy Is Mine

Miles Morales x Black Fem Spider-person Reader v Gwen Stacy.

Summary: He saved you and She didn’t want to and maybe she was right because the boy is now yours.

WARNINGS: Fighting, bad words, I think that’s it.

A/n: I was tied!!! Of seeing Miles cheat with Gwen so I took matters into my own hands. This is probably one of the best stories I’ve ever written too so don’t skip. I had so much fun writing this.

For the past 2 years, you've been the one and only Spider-woman. Everyone knows the story by now, bitten by a radioactive spider, and now you spend your time protecting the city. Everything was going great. Or that's what you wanted to believe as you fought Wilson Fisk, a person who is supposed to be behind bars. This Wilson was different - bigger, stronger, he was giving you a run for your money.

"What have they been feeding you at the Raft, Willie?" You quipped as you dodged a punch. "Haha, missed me," you said, landing a punch combo to his jaw.

"You stupid spiders are always in the way," he said, managing to catch you off guard, knocking you back. This fight is definitely gonna take a while.

"Who are you anyway, where's Spider-Man?" Fisk asked, walking menacingly toward you as you lay on the floor to catch a breath.

"I don't get paid enough for this," you said, getting up, squaring up with the large man.

Spider-Man, what are you talking about, Fisk?" You asked the man leaping backwards, dodging all of his hits.

"Enough of this talk, this ends now," Fisk said, running toward you. You charged back, your fist balled, about to strike, but he dodged and caught you by your throat.

"Another spider under my belt," Fisk said, laughing as he squeezed your throat. Gasping for air, you tried your best to break free from his grip, but your vision began to fade out. Your strength left you, and your eyes began to close. All you wanted to do was sleep, but you blinked your eyes again. Maybe you were hallucinating from the lack of oxygen, but a portal with glowing lights appeared, and two other spider personas flew forward, knocking Fisk out. You dropped to the floor, gasping for air, but still fainted in the process.

You probably weren't out for long, but you heard faint voices, a female and a male.

"What do we do, Gwen? We can't just leave her here."

"Miles, what are we supposed to do? We can't take her back to HQ."

You were too weak to actually open your eyes to see who was talking. Too weak to stop them from kidnapping you and taking you to wherever HQ was. You tried to let out a small groan, but it was useless.

"That's exactly what we need to do, Gwen. She needs medical care."

"Ughhh.... Fine, you grab her."

You heard footsteps move towards you, and your body being lifted before you succumbed to the darkness around you again.

✨HQ✨

Your bloodshot eyes shot open as you sat up, feeling around for your mask that wasn't on your face. You heard the fast-paced beeping of a heart monitor, letting you know your heart rate was up as you ripped all the pads off of you, standing ready to leave the room before two people came walking inside. You immediately got in defense mode as you studied them - an older man in a blue suit with a spider on the front, and a younger boy about your age in a black suit, also with a spider on the front.

"Where the fuck am I, and who are you?" you said, pointing.

"Welcome to HQ, Spiderwoman. I'm Spider-Man, and he's Spider-Man. Glad you survived. Miles, I'll leave you to it," the older man in the blue suit said, walking away.

Miles walked closer to you, setting off your spider senses. You closed one of your eyes, moving your head to the side, resting your hand on your head. "Don't come any closer," you said.

You're probably not used to that, but you're like me, it does that sometimes. I'm Miles.

"Yeah, I got that from earlier," you said, flopping back on the hospital cot, still very much in pain.

Miles wasn't in the room when they took off your mask, so this was the first time he saw your face. He scanned every detail of your face, taking in the way your plump lips formed into a natural pout, or maybe that was just because you were in pain. The way your brown eyes sparkled under the bright white light, he couldn't help but be captivated by your gaze. He loved your braids and the way your pink beads rattled every time you moved.

Miles felt something stir in the pit of his stomach the longer he looked at you. Maybe it was just gas from the spicy food he ate earlier, he thought, in denial of the growing attraction he felt for a stranger.

"Well, aren't you gonna tell me your name?" Miles finally mustered the courage to ask.

You turned to face him, the pain momentarily forgotten as you observed his silly smirk. You weren't usually the friendliest person, but there was something about Miles that felt different, something that made you want to open up.

"I'm Y/n," you replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

Nice to meet you Y/n," Miles said, offering his hand. You looked at it. "I'd shake your hand, but I'm in too much pain right now," you said, causing both of you to laugh. There it was, that fluttering feeling in the pit of Miles' stomach again as he watched a beautiful smile grace your face.

"So, what is this place and why am I here?" you asked Miles, curiosity shining in your eyes. "This is the Spider Society. We brought you here because you were in bad shape from fighting Fisk," Miles explained. You coughed a bit. "Yup, he whooped my ass," you said, making both you and Miles burst into laughter again.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, Gwen stood outside the door, her eyes fixed on the scene unfolding inside. With each word you said to Miles, with each chuckle you elicited from him, the flames of jealousy ignited within her. Unable to bear it any longer, she burst into the room, startling both you and Miles.

"What the fuck? You didn't even have to do all that, shawty," You exclaimed. Miles stood up, a look of surprise on his face. "Gwen, this is Y/n, Spider-woman, the one we helped," he explained, pointing toward you.

"Oh, hi. I'm glad you're okay," Gwen said, her words laced with a hint of insincerity.

This your girl Miles ?" You asked.

"No, no." They both said in unison dragging their o's. It was obvious to you that there was more to the story by the way she busted into the room but that was none of your business.

"Well, it was nice to meet you, Y/n. We should get going," Gwen said, gently tugging Miles towards the door.

Before leaving, Miles tossed you a watch that you effortlessly caught. "Maybe we can see each other again," he said, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. You smiled, watching him walk away.

"Hmmm," you hummed, examining the watch before clasping it onto your wrist. "Maybe we will, Spider-Man."

As Gwen and Miles made their way through the headquarters, Miles couldn't ignore Gwen's evident distress. He studied her face and body language.He called out to her, "Gwen?"

Getting no response, Miles tried a sing-songy voice, calling her name once more. "What, Miles?" she replied, her voice tinged with bitterness.

"I know you're upset. Do you want to talk or not?" Miles asked, genuinely wanting to understand what was bothering her.

"Why don't you go talk to Y/n?"

"Gwen, are you serious? I barely know her, but she's a cool girl," Miles defended, trying to reassure her.

"Oh, she's cool now?" Gwen's tone dripped with sarcasm and doubt.

Miles gently reached for Gwen's hand, stopping her in her tracks, making her face him directly. "Look, Gwen, you don't have to worry about her, okay?" he said softly.

Gwen's expression softened, and she nodded, a flicker of trust returning to her eyes. "Alright, Miles. She said giving him a small punch to the shoulder.

✨The Mission✨

You were back in your dimension 2 days post fight with Fisk feeling good as new. You were in bed, examining the watch Miles gave you, when a hologram of a woman appeared, making you scream.

"Oh hey there new recruit, I'm Lyla," she said, waving.

"Hi... Lyla," you said slowly, waving back.

"Sorry to scare you, but the boss needs you at HQ, your first mission... Yayyyy, so suit up," she said before disappearing.

"Uh, okay," you said, slipping into your skintight suit and mask, slapping on your watch, struggling to find out how to get it to work because no one gave you a tutorial. But you managed using your genius brain and stepped through the portal, gracefully landing in a dark room with monitors.

"Great, you're here......Miles!" the man you were familiar with but never got his name called out.

From the shadows, Miles emerged with a smile on his face. "Good to see you again, Mamita," he said.

"Oh, we're using pet names now?" you said, matching his flirty energy.

"That's enough," Miguel said as he stood before you two. "Anomaly in Earth 746, catch it."

"Anomaly?" you questioned.

"I'll tell you all about it later," Miles said, grabbing your hand, opening a portal, and pulling you through.

You dusted off your hands. The mission went well, a little too well, especially for a Goblin mission.

"You're pretty good, Miles."

"You too, Mamita. Gotta say, I doubted you a little after the Fisk fight," he teased.

"Oh, whatever," you said, rolling your eyes, chuckling a bit.

You moved closer to Miles, mere inches between you two, as you ran your fingers along his jawline.

Miles' breath hitched as you touched him, his hazel eyes expressing the tension between you two. There was no denying that Miles was handsome, and you were eager to learn more about him.

"So what dimension are you from, Papa?" you asked playfully, a flirtatious smile gracing your lips.

"1610. Maybe we could go there?" Miles responded, his voice filled with anticipation.

"Take a girl on a date first, Miles," you laughed, teasing him gently.

"No, I didn't mean it like that. I..." Miles stammered, trying to explain himself.

"I would love to see your dimension, Miles," you interrupted, cutting him off.

And so, Miles took you to his dimension.

"This is Brooklyn." Miles said as you two stood atop the Williamsburg Bank building, you marveled at the city below. It was similar to your own home, yet distinctly different. Miles watched in awe as your eyes sparkled at the city, feeling a flutter in his stomach.

"It's beautiful, Miles," you whispered, taking a seat to soak in the view.

He walked forward and sat beside you, his face beaming with joy. You turned towards him, a warm smile on your lips.

"So, what's your story, big head?" you asked, playfully leaning on him.

"My story?" Miles responded, a hint of surprise in his voice.

"You're Spider-Man, Miles. What's your origin?" you asked , curious him.

"You know, regular Spider-Man stuff. I gained my powers and now I fight bad guys," Miles answered, a humble tone in his voice.

"That's not what I meant," you said, giving him a small shove. "What's the real story? I was bitten by a radioactive spider too, two years ago on a field trip to Oscorp. Your world doesn't seem to have Oscorp." You sighed, frustration and sadness mixing in your voice. "I got these crazy powers that I didn't know what to do with, so I decided to keep them a secret and pretend that I was a regular kid."

The weight of your words hung heavy in the air as you choked up, memories flooding back. Miles noticed your distress and perked up. "It's okay, you don't have to share if you don't want to," he said, trying to comfort you.

But something compelled you to open up, to let go of the burden you had been carrying alone for so long. You rested your hand gently on top of his. "I pretended to be some regular kid, and that led to me losing my mom. And from then on, I decided to help everyone else," you finished.

Miles's heart stung as he listened to your story. "I lost someone close to me too, my uncle Aaron. He was shot saving me," he shared, the pain evident in his voice.

A sense of understanding and connection washed over you both. You leaned your head on his shoulder. "See, that's your story, Papa," you said softly, appreciating the bond that formed between you. "You know, Miles, it's so nice to have someone to talk about this stuff with now," you added, gazing at the sun setting on the horizon.

That moment solidified your blooming relationship with Miles. Whenever you had free time, you would pop into his dimension, and vice versa. Now, in your suit, you found yourself in dimension 1610, patiently waiting for Miles to catch up as you swung through the bustling city.

"Keep up, Miles," you teased, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you effortlessly jumped from building to building, landing with grace. The two of you were headed back to his house, where Jeff and Rio, his parents, adored you and had grown fond to your presence after all the time you spent with Miles.

They couldn't wrap their head around the whole different dimension thing and just assumed Miles' imagination had run wild. You two walked through his front door.

"Hey Mama Rio," you greeted Miles' mom.

"Hey Mija."

"Hey Mom," Miles said, hugging his mom before the two of you walked into his room. You two were too caught up in conversation to notice a guest. Gwen. She cleared her throat, making you two snap your attention towards her.

"Gwen, hey," Miles said nervously. "What are you - what are you doing here?"

"I came to see you because I barely see you anymore, but now I know why," Gwen answered.

You snickered a bit, knowing you essentially snatched Miles from Gwen.

"Oh, that's funny?" Gwen asked.

You threw your hands up in surrender, not wanting to get into it with her.

"We were about to watch a movie, order some pizza. You can stay if you want," Miles offered to pacify Gwen, but he was hoping she'd turn it down. He cherished his alone time with you.

"No, it's fine, Miles. I'll leave," Gwen said with a hint of frustration in her voice.

"Uh, okay. Bye," Miles said

"Bye, Gwendolyn," you added, unable to hide the small smirk on your face.

Gwen turned to you and asked, "You know what, can we talk outside, Y/n?"

Rolling your eyes, you agreed, "Sure, why not?" You grabbed Miles' hand, signaling for him to come along.

"Alone," Gwen insisted, her tone unwavering.

"Okay... I'll be back, papa," you said to Miles, giving him a smile and a pat on the cheek.

As you followed Gwen out of the window and onto the roof, you could feel the tension building up. Once you reached a secluded corner, she turned to face you, arms folded.

"What is your problem?" she asked, her voice filled with accusation.

"Girl, what are you talking about?" you answered defensively.

"Miles," she replied, her tone laced with frustration.

"What about him? He's fine, great even," you said, walking closer to her.

"Don't play dumb, Y/n," Gwen snapped.

"What are you getting at, Gwen?" you said, your tone becoming pointed as you grew tired of the conversation.

"He's mine, Y/n, and you're trying to steal him away," her voice filled with possessiveness.

You couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Yours?" you asked, shaking your head. "Gwen, you lost him the day you two saved me."

As the words left your mouth, the truth hung heavy in the air. Gwen had been holding onto her feelings for Miles while pretending everything was okay. But deep down, she knew that the connection between you and Miles was undeniable.

What you didn't see coming was a slap across your face from Gwen, not thinking she was bold enough to do it. The sting of her actions lingered in the air as shock resonated through your entire being. And what Gwen didn't see was Miles, camouflaged and watching you two from a distance. He didn't hear anything you two talked about, but he sure did see the slap.

As the pain subsided, you didn't retaliate. Deep down, you and Gwen both knew that you had won this battle, that Miles was now dedicated to you.

"Why would you do that, Gwen?" You heard a voice behind you, and turned to see Miles standing there, his eyes filled with disappointment.

You watched in satisfaction as Gwen's eyes widened, realizing that she had not only hurt you but also jeopardized her chances with Miles. She had unknowingly made it even easier for you to snatch his affection away from her.

"Miles, I..." Gwen stammered, unable to find the right words to justify her actions.

"Why would you hit her?" Miles asked, his voice filled with a mix of anger and hurt.

"You didn't hear what she said, Miles. She's trying to tear us apart. You were mine," Gwen spewed out, desperately clinging to her fading hopes.

"Yours? I'm not some object, Gwen," Miles retorted, his voice laced with disappointment. "Is that why you brought her outside? To hit her?"

A heavy silence hung in the air as Gwen struggled to find an explanation, her words failing her. The truth had been laid bare, and Miles saw her for who she truly was.

"Save it, Gwen," Miles said, his voice firm. "You just showed me the type of person you really are. I've been pining after you for months, and you always brushed me off. But now, now I have someone who actually likes me back."

With those words, he took your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

You looked at Gwen, a smug look on your face as you squeezed Miles' hand tighter.

"You don't mean that, Miles."Gwen said.

"Yes, I do," Miles turned to you. "She likes me back, and she's the most caring, sweetest, funniest person in this dimension and every other," Miles said, making you tear up a bit, your lip bottom poking out.

"You're so cute when you do that," Miles said.

Gwen watched as her heart slowly broke. She had played with Miles,but now she had lost the game. She wanted to look away, but she couldn't. She should be the one he said all those things to. The tears pricked her eyes.

"Y/n, will you be my girlfriend?" The words echoed in Gwen's head, the final blow that made her tears roll down her face.

"Of course, I will, papa," you said, jumping on Miles and giving him a tight hug before pulling back and giving him a big kiss, your first one in front of his former crush.

You and Miles turned to Gwen, watching as she continued to cry.

"You should go, Gwen," you said, your heart aching a bit for the girl, but not a lot.

Miles grabbed your hand as the two of you walked off toward the stairwell, leaving Gwen behind.

[meiluu]

Tis' The Season

Peter Parker one-shot

Peter Parker/ Female Reader can be any peter :) cw: SMUT 18+ MDNI, this is basically pure filth that came to me in a dream and i had to write it, mating season *wink*, breeding kink, creampie, feral and protective peter.

*not edited*

peter pov.

When Peter got bit by that radioactive spider, then waking up in a new body, being able to do what he thought was impossible. He thought that he would be the only one in the world who was like him. But as the universe would have it, there was another.

 It had been a rather uneventful day of swinging around New York, catching would-be robbers or the occasional purse snatcher, when he had decided to take a different route back to his apartment. He didn't know why his body acted on its own accord- almost like it was possessed and on a mission. Slowing down his pace, quietly landing on the roof of a building his eyes locked onto a girl. She was carrying a couple of boxes into what Peter assumes is her new apartment. But the moment he's able to get a full look at her his spider senses are buzzing, electricity shooting down his back. 

This was a wholly new sensation, whenever his senses went off it usually indicated danger and sent his blood rushing as his body pumped adrenaline into his veins. but this- it was like a melody, a soft tune that lulled his body into a state of comfort and familiarity. It was like his body was telling him to go to her. Though embarrassingly enough Peter had been gawking at her and with his senses singing around him it was almost like they sent a message to her because in a quick motion she was looking out the window and towards peter. Thankfully enough Peter was quick enough to duck down, getting cover from the edge of the roof, shielding himself from her view. A huff left his lips, god what is wrong with me?, a multitude of thoughts ran through his head a majority of them shaming Peter for being a creep. Although a small portion of those thoughts were relishing in what they had just witnessed, She was so beautiful...

With that little encounter Peter was quick to head home, hoping to forget the weird experience. 

It was a few months later that Peter would eventually meet her again. Throughout those months Peter would always feel that same soft and comfortable feeling in the back of his mind, like she was always near him. Come to find out she had actually been following Spider-Man, but it proved more than difficult to follow the superhero. She had been essentially guessing on where he would possibly show up, hoping to get lucky and catch a chance to talk to him. Whenever y/n moved into her new apartment she had mainly locked herself up, given the drastic and terrifying changes her body was undergoing, she never got the chance to turn on her t.v. But when she did, a surge of hope blossomed within her chest. Spider-Man was the source of that hope. After doing a bit of investigating she was able to uncover that he was someone like her, maybe not bitten like her but he showcased all the things that were happening to her. And so she made it her mission to talk to him- and to hopefully find out more about herself, and to maybe make a friend along the way.

And that day finally came, after spending a couple of hours on the roof of a building where Spider-Man frequented- there he was, standing right before her. Her senses buzzed in pure happiness, and his senses were singing to him. "Hey." Peter was breathless, lost in the feeling that was coursing through him and it didn't help that she was absolutely angelic looking as the sun casted a golden glow upon her skin. "Hi." a timid voice was all she could muster, all her words becoming stuck within her throat.

And from that day onwards they become each other's salvation. Finally after coming to the conclusion that Peter would be the only one that was like him, it was a very welcomed surprise to find someone who was just like him. Your relationship started off slowly, as you both got to understand how you both were changed- answering one another questions. you both moved onto asking questions like, "Which star wars movie is your favorite?", "what’s your favorite place to get pizza?". Then one day it was, "Can I show you who I am?".

The day that Peter took off his mask was a day neither of you would forget. That day Peter felt a weight be lifted from his shoulders, no longer held back by the barrier that the mask created he could finally be with you as Peter parker. 

Slowly lifting the mask from his face, his eyes locking onto yours. Your face split into a smile so big your cheeks had started to hurt. His brown locks were messy from being underneath the mask- and he was so handsome, you were utterly lost in his visage. Peter had been slowly inching his way towards you, getting close enough to catch onto your familiar scent and warmth. Looking down at you Peter raised his free hand, gently cupping your cheek. "Can I kiss you?" his voice was nothing but whisper meant only for you. "Yes, please." your cheeks where dusted in a rosy blush, and with such care Peter leaned down enveloping your lips with his. Dropping his mask, he now has both hands cupping your face like you were made of porcelain glass. Sweet and soft lips, dance together- you lips tasting like your favorite lip-gloss. Gathering up the courage Peter tentatively bites your bottom lip, asking so sweetly for entrance. Opening your mouth your flooded by the undeniable taste of him. Unashamedly you'll admit that you and Peter spent the better part of that day making out, until the sun set behind the horizon, and only then did you both finally separate from each others embrace. And from that your relationship reached a whole new level, trust within each other bloomed and with that came love, an unfathomable amount of love for one another.

—

You and Peter had been together for a little over a year now, your bond with one another growing with each passing day- and with that growth came a new discovery. After being together for an extended amount of time your senses along with Peter's had become attuned with one another's. You could feel Peter's presence from halfway across the city, and that went for Peter as well. He would catch himself periodically checking up on you while he was swinging throughout the city. And no matter where he was he would always find his way to you, with your senses always calling out to him.

Peter had woken up this morning, turning on his side and seeing you buried within the sheets of his bed, heart swelling at the sweet sight. And like any morning he had, he got up to start his routine but something was off. His senses felt like they were in hypervigilance, with this looming feeling that he needed to secure his apartment, hairs raising and goosebumps erupting across his skin. Peter had quickly thrown on his suit and started patrolling the area around his apartment. Although Peter didn't understand why he had this need, seeing as his apartment was well protected by the many gadgets he had implemented, as well as it being high above the city in a nice area. But he followed his instincts, seeing as they have never proved him wrong before… and it wasn’t like he could ignore them. So he spent the next few hours making sure that there were no threats around his home. And like a timer going off his body completely switched its motion, senses now wholly focused on you. He needed to get home now. Quickly maneuvering through an open window, landing softly on his feet, his mind and body on a one track mission on finding you. Giving into his senses he allows his body to guide him to you.

Opening the door to his bedroom, he is immediately hit with your mouth watering scent permeating throughout the room. And with his eyes zeroing in on you he sees you webbing- his mind pauses at what he is seeing, how can you be webbing anything without his web cartridges'? Then he’s whipping his head down to his own wrists seeing how he never reloaded his web-shooters before he left this morning. How did he not notice that he was producing organic webs? But before he was able to begin his theories his mind had begun to solely focus on you, your scent and watching as you made some sort of nest. The nest so far consisted of your duvet cover, pillows, and was all being held up by your webs. A part of him wants to go up to you but the more instinctual part of him tells him to wait, telling him that what you are doing is very important and you needed all your focus upon what you were doing.

With one last pillow, Peter's senses buzz with your call- you were using your senses to communicate with him. Your hair was still untamed from sleeping all night, but you looked so beautiful right at this moment. Sitting perched in your nest eyes full of love as your senses begged Peter to come to you. And in a swift movement Peter is jumping and latching onto the ceiling crawling his way towards you. Reaching you, Peter envelopes you within his strong embrace, burying his head within the crook of your neck. mumbles of 'I love you.', 'So pretty.' , 'Smell so good.' tumble from Peters lips. You sigh at the praise, reciprocating his love tenfold.

Through the soft kisses that Peter litters across your face, reaching your mouth his tongue dives in dancing with yours. The heat within him grows. A need so strong it has him whimpering into your mouth- and it seems you are on the same page. Hurriedly discarding each other's clothes, a wave of relief floods through him, finally feeling your bare skin. "Baby-Fuck." Peter groans as his fingers get a feel of how wet you are. A needy whimper leaves your slightly swollen lips, "Peter...please, I need you so bad." Peter's entire body tenses up at your words, a near-growl rumbling from within his chest echoes around you two. Spreading your legs, giving Peter an open invitation to fuck you, and he accepts it without hesitation. Lining his aching cock that's dripping pre-cum at your cunt, only a moment later is Peter sinking into you. Satisfied noises of pleasure leave the both of you, pushing to the hilt- hips flushed with one another. Peter is leaning over, his face over yours, and his arms are snugly wrapped around your body.

Grinding his cock further into you, eyes rolling back at the feel of your walls trying to suck him in further. Another whimper of Peter's name has him losing all semblance of care as he starts at a rough and fast pace. Your cunt is warm and dripping, and with every harsh thrust of Peter's hips it has your eyes rolling into the back of your head- moans of pleasure being punched out of you with every harsh plunge of his cock. Latching onto his muscular back, trying to keep yourself grounded to him- seeing as it's not enough you twist your head to the side biting down hard into the skin where his shoulder and neck meet. A loud 'Fuck' accompanied with your name tumbles from Peter's lips. Manhandling you, Peter moves your legs to rest upon his shoulders as he latches onto the blanket and pillows around you. Fucking into you with every bit of strength within him, mind and body on the sole mission to mate you and to truly make you his. Your body in tune with his, you are spreading your legs wider as your hands latch onto Peter's backside, trying to communicate with Peter but failing as a messy jumble of words is all you can muster. But thankfully Peter catches onto your message, sliding his hand down to your backside he tilts your hips upwards towards him. Allowing him to reach so deep into you, you swear you could feel him within your throat. Thrust after thrust, you feel yourself reaching closer to euphoria, thighs quivering in anticipation as your cunt continues to dribble its arousal around Peters pistoning cock. Leaving one side of Peter's backside you snake your free hand to your clit. Rubbing hasty circles around the bundle of nerves, and not too soon later you're cumming. Cunt rhythmically squeezing around Peter's cock, begging it to fill you. A moan tumbles from Peter's lips as he feels your walls tighten around him, feeling hot pleasure roll down his back before he feels himself cumming into you. Sloppy thrusts of Peter riding out both of your highs slowly come to a stop. Breathless and flushed in residual pleasure you both gently turn to your sides, making sure to stay connected as you both come down from your highs. Exhaustion is quick to take you both, wrapped in each other's embrace, still connected as one. 

Peter doesn’t know what time it is when he wakes, all he knows is that he needs you and you need him. Maneuvering you onto your hands and knees, sinking into you. A pleasure filled moan falls from your lips, jutting your hips up giving Peter a better angle to fuck you deeper. Hips pistoning into you, latching onto the blankets around you trying to keep yourself steady with Peter's brutal thrusts. Unhappy with how far apart you are Peter is leaning forward, front to your back. Face right next to your ear. Your mind is soon flooded with the sounds of Peter's pleasure. A moan  leaves you as Peter bites down onto your shoulder, and brings one of his hands to your clit. Swirling his fingers around your bundle of nerves, your body is quick to go pliant under him. Letting him fuck and fill you to his content, your body sings in happiness when you cum around his cock and Peter is soon to follow in your lead. Warmth pools within your belly, a content smile takes over your face. And with that you are snuggling deeper into your nest, falling back asleep.

Peter huffs out a breath, slowly removing himself from your cunt. His mind is the most clear it’s been since the last time he was awake. Making sure you are secure in your bundle of blankets, Peter quietly descends from your nest, putting on a pair of sweats. Now Peters mind is trying to figure out how long you’ve both been in your nest, doing nothing else but fucking. In the haze of his memories he sees that he would periodically leave the nest to get you both feed, would fuck again and then fall asleep with you. Peter heads over to his phone, quickly doing mental math…and shit he’s been with you for nearly 5 days! But before he can stress about that fact, his senses are going into overdrive.

Someone was coming to his door. Thankfully the apartment was dark, with the only illumination being from the full moon seeping in through the curtains. Peter is jumping to the ceiling, a whirlwind of protectiveness and anger swirling within his chest. Then he hears the front door open. Using the shadows to his advantage, Peter is quietly crawling into the living room. His mind is flooding with all the ways he could kill the intruder. Looking down from the ceiling he can make out a couple of figures, voices merging together. Readying his arm, waiting until…Now! With fast and precise movements he’s webbing the intruders to the adjacent wall, but before he can web up the last intruder his mind is halted by his voice being called out. “Peter! What the hell kid!” Tony’s voice rings through his head. “Jarvis, turn on the lights.” Light floods the living room, and with it Peter is able to see Tony with his hands up in surrender. And to the adjacent wall he sees, Steve, Bucky and Sam webbed to the wall. Mind reeling at what he sees, shame floods through his body. He was going to kill them! What is wrong with him…”Kid, you need to calm down- or you're going to pass out.” Tony's voice is soothing, and with that Peters is able to realize he’s been hyperventilating. Slowly calming his breathing, he lowers his arm backing away from Tony. “What, what are you doing here?” Peter's voice is barely above a whisper. A concerned look crosses Tony’s face, “Kid you’ve been M.I.A for 5 days, we were getting worried when you didn’t respond to us.” Peter's body is slowly relaxing, “I- I’m sorry, I’ve been…busy.” Cringing internally at the word ‘busy’. “Kid, you're gonna have to give me more than just ‘busy’. We haven’t seen you in 5 days, no sight of you swinging around New York. Thank god you have Jarvis installed, because without him we wouldn’t even know if you were alive.” 

Peter's gut churns, shame and guilt swirling within him. “Can I come by the tower tomorrow, then I can explain everything.” Tony has a sympathetic look upon his face, “Peter-“ Peter soon stops listening to him when he feels his senses buzz, you are awake and you're terrified. Worried that Peter wasn’t there when you awoke to what sounded like a fight going on in the living room. Whipping his head to the bedroom, he tries to communicate that you needed to stay in the bedroom. Then in the corner of his eye he sees Tony moving towards him- getting closer to you. “No! Stay back, don’t take another step.” Shock mars Tony’s features, Peter had growled out his words. They were nothing short of a command, his face was painted in anger and fierce protectiveness. Arms ready to web him to the wall. “Kid! I’m not gonna hurt you.” 

“I know that but I can’t let you get closer to her, you guys need to leave. Please..” Tony takes a moment before nodding his hand and then makes his way to the others that have been stuck to the wall this entire time. Quickly cutting them free, Peter watches as they eventually leave, now his body can finally truly relax. Shoulders slumping in relief. But that relief is short lived with the weight of what he was supposed to do now.

How in the world was he going to explain this Tony and to you now that you’re awake?!

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Do you have any headcanons about the Ghoul's cum? Is it an unusual color, taste, or texture? Is it radioactive? If you look at it under a microscope, do the sperm cells look mutated? Can he get someone pregnant? If he cums inside someone, are there any side effects?

I feel like my answer to this shouldn't start with "I have actually given much thought to what ghoul cum would be like", and it shouldn't be as long as it is, Anon, but here we go:

I headcanon that being a ghoul does make you infertile, especially as a man...early on. Radiation is a massive sperm-killer so I think all the human sperm would be wiped out pretty damn quick. But I think if you manage to stay alive long enough into the ghoulification process (which can be instantaneous or can be drawn out over years and years), your boys could possibly adjust and "heal" from being so damaged by the radiation and start producing sperm again. In the lore of the games, there are records of ghouls reproducing with one another (though it is not elaborated on at all and is apparently rare), so why would it be out of the realm of possibility (in the Fallout universe) that they could reproduce with healthy humans?

I think it would take the right human, the right ghoul, and the right conditions (my heart says 'radstorm', but I know how deeply corny that is), but I do think it's possible for some ghouls to get women pregnant.

I don't think their sperm themselves would necessarily be remarkable under a microscope; sperm having multiple heads/tails, no head/tail, and other malformations already exists in human men, and the number of them visible in a sample is used as an indicator of sperm quality. I think, that close, a sample from a ghoul would just look like a sample from a regular man with poor quality sperm.

The semen would be very radioactive after a few years, especially if you had sexual contact with an older ghoul or a still-sentient glowing one like Jason Bright or Oswald the Outrageous. I think it has a bit of a strangely-colored hue and I think it's thicker in consistency than before. You will absolutely get sick from it (especially if you swallow it) if you don't properly prep with Rad-X. Expect all the traditional symptoms of radiation sickness (fever, fatigue/fainting, confusion, vomiting, red inflammation and burns in the places you had direct physical contact, bleeding from the nose/mouth, unusual bruising) if you don't, and have Radaway ready for afterwards. What's the stuff for if not saving us from ourselves?

When a ghoul cums inside you, you can absolutely taste it, like you rested a nickle on the back of your tongue. You'll really hate it at first, but eventually you'll come to tolerate, even like it. Try not to let them "shoot up the club" every single time, though, since it'll probably leave you incredibly raw and sore. It's also long-accepted ghoul-fucker canon that your sentient ghoul lover cumming inside of/all over you can hide your scent from feral ghouls.

When I tell you that shit would taste so bad, I'm not even sure I have the proper words for what I think it would be like. Sort of like licking a battery combined with the bitter, acidic flavor of bile (and also the taste of semen, which doesn't exactly taste great anyway). You'll probably try to be sexy and brave and at least let your ghoul lover cum on your tongue once, but trust me when I say you'll never offer again. Especially since their regenerative abilities make them cum buckets every single time.

Godspeed, ghoul fuckers. We wouldn't do it if we weren't willing to risk a little rad exposure, right?

[kettlefire]

Kid Flash & the Prison.

Wally West doesn't believe in the supernatural.

Aliens? Sure. Atlanteans? Understandable. Clones? Yes, makes perfect sense.

Magic and ghosts? Party tricks.

It's not real, and it never will be.

That's the only reason he accepted the stupid bet. He knows Robin was just trying to rile him up, but he couldn't help it.

M'gann was so sure it was haunted. Swore up and down that it just didn't feel right, and tried to talk Wally out of it.

He wasn't going to wuss out in front of her. So he went in. He took up the bet and went inside the haunted old prison.

An hour. He just had to survive an hour in the creaky, dark, damp building.

That can't be so hard, right?

He steeled himself, laughed of the concerned looks, and went straight in. Ignoring the looming voice in the back of his head telling him to turn away.

The heavy doors slammed shut behind him, a cold chill filled the air, and...

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Wally could hear the slight dripping of an old pipe somewhere, but that was all.

The prison was just that. An old abandoned prison, falling apart on it's edges. That was it. Nothing more nothing less, and Wally laughed at himself for his stupid fear.

He zoomed through the building, going into every room. Looking at every nook and cranny. Taking pictures so make sure no one could say he stayed huddle at the door.

It wasn't until he reached the Warden's office that something happened.

It wasn't a big deal, Wally was just certain a draft knocked over one of those rotten wooden shelves. That's what the crash was, no need to fret. Wally absolutely didn't jump at the sound.

He wrapped his hand around the doorknob, and pulled...

Nothing happened. The door refused to open. The knob turned, it wasn't locked. Yet it felt like door might be barricaded, so tightly that Wally couldn't even shove it an inch.

It only made Wally want to get in even more. He's been to every other inch of this prison, he wasn't going to let a rotten door stop him.

But then it happened. Translucent glowing green arms shot out of the wooden door, gripping at Wally's skin in an ice cold and bruising grasp.

He didn't scream. No, Wally shouted. That's all he did. It was manly, 100%, he just got a little jump scared that's it.

His comm crackled to life, and Wally could hear the voices of his team through thick static. He could barely make it out, what with trying not to get pulled into the door.

The old rotten door wasn't a door anymore. It swirled a glowing green and purple color, and the presence of it sent a chill down Wally's spine.

This time, as Wally felt the floor slipping from under him, Wally screamed. A blood curdling sound because this wasn't supposed to happen.

The speedster wasn't sure if he had just closed his eyes, or if he passed out. Yet, when he opened his eyes again he was in a prison.

A prison. Not The Prison.

The walls were a sickly purple grey, the sky above him was inky black with the occasional streak of green. And Wally realized very quickly, he wasn't on Earth anymore.

Maybe he should have been more concerned by the green beings dressed in riot gear circling around him. Or the fact that he was now wearing a grey and black jumpsuit, his super suit and mask completely missing.

But no. No the thing that sent a numbing wave of dread through was the man.

The man, who could barely be called a man, that loomed over him. Dressed in white and black suit. Whose skin was a deathly white.

An almost skeletal look to his face, yet Wally didn't doubt he strength and power in that man.

The man who called himself Warden Walker.

Walker wasted no time in listening a startling list of rules Wally had broken. Rules that would lead him to spend much too long trapped in this ghostly prison.

As much as Wally hated to admit it, that's what it was. Ghosts.

And he had no clue how to get free. Even as he was changed, and lead around the prison. To the mess hall. Even as Wally started down at the food that looked absolutely radioactive.

In this moment, Wally realized how screwed he truly was. Terrified of what would happen next. Would his friends try going into the prison after him?

How much time has even passed? Would his friends end up trapped here with him? Would they get worse treatment? How could a human be in a ghost prison?!

His spiraling panic and stressed came to a complete halt when she sat down. Grey skin and firey blue hair, Wally couldn't help but find her beauty enticing.

Her boyfriend, however, looked as if he could snap Wally in two. Looming forming, looking to be a metallic suit and firey green mohawk.

Wally really thought he was going to get the weirdest beat down of his life.

Except the conversation quickly shifter a plan for a riot. Talk of how to get Wally out of there. Leaving the speedster absolutely flabbergasted. Why would they help?

Every time Wally tried to ask the ghosts why, they kept brushing him off. Until finally he got an answer from Ember. Which only left him with more questions.

"Because the dipstick would be a bigger pain if we let a human stay here."

[username8746489]

Scenario using the "Naven is head of Bliss Ocean" theory with Sylvie discovering it

(Fic under cut; wordcount: 1,308)

"It's you, isn't it?"

Naven stared at him with an unyielding smile, tilting his head curiously, "Whatever do you mean by that?"

The two of them were standing in an abandoned room in the convention hall, the only light filtering in through thick curtains closed over the windows. Despite that, Sylvie could've sworn Naven's hair was glowing with an almost radioactive green gleam.

Yoomtah looked between both guys, practically vibrating on her heels, "Should I-"

Naven shook his head, smiling at her, "Could you leave us alone for a second?"

His bodyguard stood straight up, a saluting hand on her forehead, "On it, bossman!"

Sylvie's eyes trailed after her as she somehow sprinted out of the room so fast, only a blur was left behind in her wake, slamming the door so hard the walls seemed to shake. He returned his steely gaze to Naven, "I know everything."

"You'll have to enlighten me," The CEO responded with a frown, resting his chin on his hand, "I'm afraid I don't have any clue what you're talking about."

Sylvie pointed an accusatory finger, narrowing his eyes through his glasses, "Bliss Ocean. You run it." An uncomfortable silence followed his statement. Sylvie swallowed, "Don't try and pretend otherwise, I have proof-"

Naven interrupted his bluff with slow clapping, walking ever closer to the psychologist. He normally wasn't threatening at all, looking like a strong breeze might knock him over. And yet, Sylvie found himself stepping back, a hand shifting to grab the yo-yo in his pocket.

"Congratulations!"

Sylvie paused, somewhat surprised at the ease with which Naven said it.

"You've caught me! It's impressive really, considering that you only started investigating this today. Maybe you do live up to your, what was it?" Naven tapped his chin with a finger, looking off into the distance. Sylvie scowled. He was being underestimated. "…'Child genius' title? The way Molly talked about you, I thought you were maybe cheating your way through school."

Sylvie flinched. Molly talked about him? And… not in a flattering way. He could gather that much.

"But it doesn't really matter, does it?" Naven returned his gaze to Sylvie, boxing him in against the wall, "Who's going to believe you?"

"Huh?"

"You're just a kid, aren't you?" He asked, voice dripping with sugary sweet condescension, "Why would they trust you of all people? The random teenager who's been spouting random conspiracies about Bliss Ocean being at this convention."

"I-" Sylvie's mouth was dry, but he still spat out the words, "I'm not a kid!"

"Aren't you?" Naven's smile grew ever wider with each passing second of silence from Sylvie, "You've spent your entire life in a race to grow up. But guess what? Being an adult isn't about having a job, or a house, or a car. It's about the skills and connections you make in your youth." Naven bopped Sylvie's nose, "And in your rush to become one, it seems you haven't really grown up at all, have you?"

"But I do acknowledge the fact you know now." He leaned down, whispering in the teenager's ear, "You've done so much at only the age of fifteen. It's a shame they'll remember your murder more than your accomplishments."

Sylvie swung a sloppy punch at Naven, missing, but continuing to swipe at him, "Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up! I'm not- I will expose you!" They continued to move towards the center of the room, culminating in Sylvie tackling the sickly man to the ground, grabing fistfuls of fabric as he hauled Naven's torso up by his shoulder-cape. He hissed in his face, "I'll make sure everyone will know about what you've done."

Naven was still smiling, "You can try."

The door slammed open, light flooding into the room. A whole group of people were standing in the frame, led by Yoomtah, who casually flicked the lights on with a grin, "I brought who you wanted!"

Molly, Trixie, and Phoenica were gasping in horror. Giovanni was staring at him with hardly concealed discontempt. Rick was just… looking. The smile on his face suggested an emotion, but Sylvie had spent enough time with him at this point to know it was for show.

"Sylvie!" Molly cried, "Get off of him!"

Yoomtah hopped over, grabbing Naven by his armpits and yanking him out from under Sylvie with a giggle, sending the psychologist toppling to the ground. She used her hand to dust off Naven, before smiling at him with her hands on her hips, "Silly, silly, I leave you alone for five minutes and you get yourself attacked by a kid! What would you do without me?"

Naven almost looked like a completely different person, sheepishly adjusting his glasses, "Sorry, sorry…"

"Naven's weak!" Phoenica frowned with a pout, walking over to hug Naven's legs, "It's not right to attack someone who can't fight back! It's not right to attack someone in general!"

"Why were you even trying to fight him?" Trixie squinted, stepping in front of the CEO like she was his hired bodyguard.

"Probably got made fun of for being a NERDDDD!" Giovanni and Trixie high-fived.

Sylvie remained on the ground, legs sprawled out beneath him. He might've been stationary but his mind was still spinning, stammering over his words, "But I- He-"

Naven brushed off the crowd of people surrounding him, approaching Sylvie, "I know that you've been struggling a lot with this whole… 'Bliss Ocean Investigation'." Naven reached out a hand, "But you shouldn't let it consume you."

Sylvie smacked it away with an incredulous glare, "Don't psychoanalyze me! That's my thing!" He turned to the group, gesturing to Naven, "He's- He's the head of Bliss Ocean!"

They all blinked at him with varying amounts of confusion and weariness.

"Oh my," Naven said, sounding as if this was the first time he had heard this accusation.

"Sylvie!" Molly hissed, hands clenched tight around the straps of her backpack. "Why would you say something like that?!"

"Because I'm right!" Sylvie protested, fists balled in his lap, "It all makes sense, doesn't it?!"

"No?!?!"

"He's a Mundie in charge of one of the biggest corporations in the world!" Sylvie retorted, "Bliss Ocean is a large Mundie terrorist group! Where do you think they're getting all their funding from?!"

"You can't just say he's a part of a mundie terrorist group because he's a Mundie!" Phoenica gasped in horror, hands clasped over her mouth.

"And isn't one of their operatives a bounty hunter?" Molly added, "They could easily be getting money from there too."

"But- But-"

"He reminds me a bit of Lorelai," Naven chuckled a bit, "Only seeing what he wants to and refusing to see any other perspective."

Sylvie didn't know who Lorelai was. But evidently, everyone else did, the atmosphere of the room shifting to an oppressive pressure, all pushing down on him and him alone. There was no sympathy to be found in their gazes, only disdain. They were projecting. Just that one comparison was enough to equate him to whatever wrongdoings Lorelai had done.

"Let's go," Giovanni murmured to the three girls, gently corraling them back to the door. Yoomtah followed his example, dragging Naven by his hand.

Sylvie only managed to move when he saw Rick go to join them as well.

"Rick! Rick, you believe me, don't you?" Sylvie begged, grabbing at his hand, "You've been with me this entire time-"

Rick stared down at him. The friendship string connecting their two souls appeared, hanging in the air and crackling with black energy. Then all at once, it exploded, shattering into pieces and raining down like soot. Rick took back his hand with an sad frown, walking back to the rest of the group.

They turned off the lights as they left, leaving a kid shaking in the middle of an empty room, all by his lonesome.

[directdogman]

Coming to you LIVE from my opulent mansion abode:

The OFFICIAL Dialtown glow in the dark Randy plush + Dialtown enamel pin-set are now available to buy over on their respective Makeship store pages! WOW!!!

So glad y'all finally get to see what these look like, because maaan, I'm really happy with these! First time ever doing enamel pins OR glow in the dark stuff and man, am I hyped! I apologize sincerely to all of your wallets, coin-purses and cash-mattresses for the simultaneous launch, but I couldn't so no to the opportunity to make official Dialtown pins!!! JUST LOOK AT THEM. LOOK AT THEEEEM.

[tongjaitongjai]

CrypticGod!Merlin and Worshipper aka fanboy Mordred CRACK AU - Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Merlin learns that being a god in semi-mortal form is very difficult when having a strong follower like Mordred.

Mordred, like many who pray to their god as some kind of anchor, will often pray something along the lines of ‘Emrys, give me strength and courage’ or ‘Emrys, please be with me through this difficult time’ unconsciously.

Except, unlike the normies, his commitment and belief are EXTREMELY STRONG, so when he prays strong enough, HIS GOD ACTUALLY SHOWS UP:

Arthur, charging him during sparring: Come on, Mordred! You can do better than this!!

Mordred: (anxiously praying) Emrys helps me

Merlin, suddenly appears between Arthur and Mordred, with Arthur about to smash him with the sword: THE FUCK—

Obviously, he is banned from praying during sparring, but occasionally Merlin will still pop up out of nowhere when he is anxious, and the knights eventually have to get used to it:

Arthur: Today, the neighbouring kingdom’s knights will join us for the practice, and there will be some competitions. I hope all of you are ready to protect and uphold the honour of Camelot’s knights. Any defeat is unacc—-

Arthur:

Arthur: any defeat is understandable, for one must lose before learning true victory, so please don’t get too stressed, especially you, Mordred.

Mordred: How do you know I am stressed?

Gwaine, carrying Merlin, who pop up above his head the moment Arthur said ‘defeat’, on his neck : Yeah, I wonder how

As their relationship improves, the power of Mordred’s prayer gets stronger. Not only can Merlin feels his emotions and more in-depth thoughts through the prayer, it also affects Merlin’s power, in both endearing and also straight-up ridiculous ways.

Lancelot, whispers: You are very upset because of that Lord Asshole’s shitty comment toward the Druids, aren’t you.

Mordred, calm and composed: No, I am a knight of Camelot and a grown man, I will not be bothered by something so trivial. I am not upset at all.

Lancelot: You aren’t praying to Merlin now are you.

Mordred: How is that relevant?

Merlin: *BARGING INTO THE MEETING* *SHOOTING FIRE BEAMS FROM HIS EYE, DESTROYING THE PATH AS HE WALKS* *GRABBING LORD ASSHOLE BY A COLLAR THEN PROCEEDS TO GERMAN SUPLEX HIM ON THE TABLE*

Arthur, watching this happens for the third time this week:

Arthur: Mordred, we talked about this, you have to express your thoughts and feelings verbally, not by praying to Merlin

Merlin: Don’t force him Arthur! He will talk when he is ready!

Arthur: STOP SPOILING HIM YOU ARE JUST HAPPY YOU GET TO PUNCH NOBLES

Also, when he is extremely happy, he prays to Merlin as well, like ‘Thanks Emrys for all the good fortunes that happen to me today’

Elyan: Arthur complimented Mordred at training today didn’t he? Maybe saying something like ‘you are going to be one of Camelot finest knights soon’

Percival: How do you know??? you were not there today????

Elyan, watching Merlin’s skin glows, not even in an oh so beautiful ethereal way but like a radioactive sun way: It’s .. hard to miss…

The first time Mordred wins a tournament, Merlin radiates for three days straight. His voice also sounds godly with all the weirdly smooth echoes and harp melody complimenting his every word. Mordred is exhilarated. Arthur is going insane. Merlin finally officially bans Mordred from praying to him.

[soysaurus]

There's a trait that runs through every hero, regardless of if they've spent the last couple months in prison, rehab, or wrangling pyjamas onto a stubborn five-year-old: they're a workaholic.

Thank god Jason is not a hero. Roy, on the other hand, definitely is. He might be ‘inactive’ or ‘I’m just focusing on Lian right now, thanks’, but Jason has dropped by Roy's shitty apartment in Star often enough that he can confidently say Roy, no matter what, is a hero.

So he kicks him.

“Ow! What the fuck, Jaybird?” Roy glares as he brings his fingers to his lips, slurping up the bright orange liquid that’s currently coating half his sleeve.

More keeps dripping onto the floor in radioactive bursts, and the bowl is steaming. It has a chip in the side from when Jason was teaching Lian how to shoot, and Jason knows what the ceramic feels like when steam is escaping from every orifice. He had to use his Red Hood gloves to hold the damn thing last time. He had to do a lot of things, but Roy's fingers don't shake as he holds the bowl in one hand.

He kicks Jason lightly back. “You're a fucking asshole, Todd, ya know that?”

Jason's head is a slow buzz. It's a sound that he can feel spit behind his eyes, sing with sharp vowels and harsh chords. It's something that's attacking him from the inside-out, digging deep until he can feel the green of the pit flare in his throat.

“Fuck ‘ff,” he murmurs, turning his head to look anywhere but Roy. “Don't need your shit-ass soup. Don't need anythin’.”

He moves to stand, to sit, to do anything but be useless on the sofa.

Roy only needs one hand to hold Jason down, and Jason tells himself it's just this once. It's because Roy is a hero and Jason is anything but.

“Dude, you're, like, what? Two seconds from passing out my couch? Eat the damn soup.”

Jason doesn't look as the bowl is shoved in front of him. More sloshes over the sides, lapping at Roy's thumb. He needs to get his mind out of the gutter. He needs to remember why he came here in the first place.

Roy groans, deep and guttural with his head thrown back and all the muscles in his neck straining. Sometimes Jason wants to curl his fingers around the thick flesh, cord his soul into the pieces of Roy he can never get back, and take him. For real this time.

He looks at the damned fucking soup.

It's tomato or carrot, or maybe even something that has never been orange in the first place. Jason can feel the steam hitting his nose hairs but he can't smell anything. “Needs more seasoning,” he spits.

Roy sighs. The soup nips his fingers again as he plops down onto the sofa. Their thighs touch, brush, hold on tight enough to blur the lines.

“You're sick,” Roy says. He holds up a spoon. It's caked in red. “Here comes the aeroplane…”

Jason wants to punch him, and it's fine because even though Jason rescued Roy first, Jason was also the first who left. He was the first who walked away and didn't return. He was the first one who died, and then died again.

It's stupid. Roy likes to say he died too, but Jason doesn't like thinking about explosions. He can't think about anything right now anyway. His brain hurts. The words in his head buzz. A hot tip touches his lips but it's not the right kind.

“Open wide.” Roy's using his Dad voice, and it's horrifying. Jason can feel his heart in his lungs and sometimes he forgets Roy has green eyes too.

They're earthier. Grounded. They're nothing like the look Jason stares at Roy with when Lian's gone to bed and the bowl's still chipped and the dishes haven't been scrubbed but everyone is too tired to touch it.

Roy sighs. The spoon clatters into the bowl, and he sucks the soup from his thumb again. “Jay, you gotta work with me here. You're sick. Being a stubborn asshole isn't gonna change that. What're you even doing here, man? Thought you were tired.”

Jason has never said he's tired before. At least not to Roy. The voice in his head that glows green and grins acid is different. He thinks he loves the voice and also hates it. He doesn't know if it's himself or someone else.

“Shut up, Harper.” He sniffs without meaning to and promptly closes his mouth.

Roy's lips break into that sly grin that means he's going home with at least a couple numbers and a body or two hanging from his elbows. “Only if you eat the damn soup. Otherwise I'll keep going, baby. I can keep this up all night long.” He winks as if Jason doesn't know him. “You know I've got the stamina to prove it.”

Jason rolls his eyes. Kind of. It hurts and the world spins, and then Roy's whispering meaningless words into his ear. He thinks his eyes are open but then he blinks and sees the ceiling. He does a double take but his body doesn't move. The air swirls. Something pinches his hips, then his legs, and then Jason is in Roy's room and the sheets smell like his body wash.

There's another smell, something heady and unmistakably Roy. Jason's not in love because he's never been in love. He doesn't know what it looks like.

He smells soup.

A ceramic bowl clatters gently, and a duvet is tugged up to Jason's chin. The bed dips next to Jason's waist and Roy's hair is long. It isn't tied back, but it was before. With the lamp light, his eyelashes look brighter. Almost like they're glowing.

Jason's not in love because Roy could never love him. He's just not the type. He's someone who dedicates his life to one person and one person only, and Jason is nowhere near a hero.

The tip of the spoon touches his bottom lip. It's cooler.

“Open wide.”

Maybe it's because it's half-one in the morning or Jason's running a fever higher than he ever has before, or because he's only twenty-one and yet he has over half of Gotham's underground under his control. His chest clenches. Tim said Jason's going to end up with heart attacks if he keeps this going, and then Jason yelled about all the empty Red Bull cans littering Tim's floor.

Jason's only twenty-one but he's never been in love. He was, maybe, once when he was fifteen. But that was before the voice in his head was impossibly loud. He doesn't remember who it was, and they're probably gone.

He opens his mouth. Roy grins, sly and dirty. His Dad voice slips out: “Good boy.”

Jason's going to kill him. He doesn't remember why he came to Star City tonight. He doesn't remember a lot of things.

His chest tightens even more as he swallows, and maybe Tim is right. Maybe heart attacks are going to be what finally takes Jason out.

[evilminji]

You know what's my JAM?

Extremes being treated as the Serious Dangers they ARE, even when they aren't "oooh its a spooky Grey morality and BADness!" Extreme.

Like? No, people. ALL of them are bad. They are ALL face melting dangerous. The void may crush your soul, but look upon the Face Of GOD? Not gonna be having a fun time! Doesn't MATTER if he's a cool dude! Face melting!

We are creatures of BALANCE. Tiny, fragile, little motes of dust. That can only exsist in the careful, blended, dances of territories and powers that be. We squishy.

Ghosts? Less squishy.

Poor impulse control, too. Especially ones with Fenton genetics. ABSOLUTELY ones with Fenton genetics and a trauma based aversion to therapy. That one? Pretty hardy. Made pretty tough, what with being Fates third favorite chew toy. But? Still gets the Sads, you know? The slightly longer then just seasonal depression.

Would medicine and some therapy help? Oh like a dream!

If medicine WORKED on his Ectoplasmicly contaminated ass. And he TRUSTED therapists.

But... surely, Danny thinks, as he sits grossly in his Depression sweatpants and eats suspect pizza on the floor of his moldering shoebox of an apartment, there must be SOME way to address his Depression? He should... he should DO something about it. Take a break maybe. Look up some ghost doctors or something.

.....

Oooooooooor..... >.>

He could break out that OMENIOUS af, bound in suspect leather, Big Book Of Forbidden Knowledge(TM) that he got from Pariah's.... what, fourth? Fifth? Library? Fuck that Lair is huge. He's STILL cleaning it out and it's been over half a decade. He swears it spawns more floors just to mock him. Bastard. Don't know HOW a building can be a Bastard, but it sure found A WAY.

Anyway!

Book it is! *horrifying Eldritch light as he opens it* huh. Neat. Comes with its own visual effects. *another bite of suspect pizza* Funky.

And so! Danny, the depressed King Of The Zone... fucks of to go cheer himself up in the Fields Of Bliss(TM), an area of Absolute Bliss. Which! Sounds GREAT in theory, now don't it? Lovely even.

Remember that little comment about extremes?

You can ENTER those fields. But no one leaves. No one CAN. The deeper you go? The more doomed you become. Less will to do anything at all. Eat, talk, move. So much as think. Like ALL extreme "Goods", it sounds lovely, but the reality is no gentle little thing.

It's a glue trap.

But how could Danny have known? Honestly, who would have TAUGHT him? Textbooks can only go so far, after all. And placing blame will not rescue the young monarch.

I imagine it's one of his helpers that pieces together what's happened. Come for further clarification on WHERE exactly he wants certain statues moved. Only? Your Majesty? Your Majesty...? Where ever could he BE? Oh? He's left out some of his books. Well, I'll just assist by putting them away for-.....

Oh.

OH ANCIENTS, NO.

But! What can the poor man DO? Ghosts are Beings of Will, Emotion, and Obsession. Were it some sort of Holy Blade or Sentient Tree, you know, something INDIVIDUAL with a will they could FIGHT? Oh no problem. But an area of effect? Especially an EMOTIONAL area of effect!? Ooooooh, this is bad. The Zone can't AFFORD to lose ANOTHER King!

We JUST GOT THIS ONE!!!

Wait. He's heard that there's an organization for this! That loudly cursing fellow who got violently thrown back into the Zone. "Ruined his fun" and all that! Perfect! He'll just hire THEM!

Smashcut? To a nice, peaceful, everybody's screaming Justice League Meeting. John's cursing life, extremely hungover. Zatana still has three cracked ribs. Wonder Woman is enjoying the new sword she... liberated... mid battle. Truely stunning craftsmanship. When?

Knock Knock!

Heads swivel. There... is a glowing green... accountant? Dandy? Dandy accountant. With an equally radioactive day glow green Actual Pirate's Chest Of Treasures, floating next to him. In the void of space; Just beyond the glass. What, the, fuuuuuu-

He seems to be under the impression they are some sort of Heroic mercenaries. And has come to request the retrieve-

"NNNNNOPE! Pariah can SHOVE it!" Snarls a suddenly very awake John Constantine, sitting up straight for the first time in hours. The rest of Dark grimly nod in agreement. Let the fucker rot. It's a kinder fate then he deserves.

No, no, NO! King PHANTOM! Pariah's SUCCESSOR by right of combat! They are not, and were never, allied in any way!

Well, all right then. Road trip to save a young idiot then.

@the-witchhunter @hdgnj @hypewinter @lolottes @mutable-manifestation @nerdpoe

[deathworlders-of-e24]

Liz, Biotechnician

Part 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Sir, with all due respect, this is horseshit.”

Elizabeth Collins stood in front of the giant desk, usually manned by the entirety of the Admiralty, now barely a sixth taken up by one man, Admiral Townes, who just sighed. This was clearly not how he wanted to spend his afternoon. He could be golfing with the Riltayon ambassador, their species had the lower half of arachnids, but no, he got picked for this.

“You knew going in that the Herald was set to be decommissioned at the end of this year, you knew it would be a short posting when you asked for it,” he said, bracing himself. This was gonna be rough. Ensign Liz was infamous for being…vocal.

“Sir, that’s not the issue here and you know it. I worked my ass off to get that posting. I got to cut my teeth on a heavy cruiser for god’s sake,” Liz said, flushed. “My grades at the academy were flawless, and my record shows-”

“Your record?! Let’s talk about your record for a moment.” A few taps on the table and a holoscreen appeared. Through the transparency Liz could see her file photo as well as lines of shifting texts as updates and memos filed in. “Your first week aboard you locked a supervising officer in a containment field and sedated him with gas.”

“The guy had a zeno-sporic infection, so I only really gassed the mushrooms. Plus I cured him.”

“A month later you stole a shuttle and jumped to restricted space to collect samples of…” a few scrolls down, “…why does this just say glowing rocks?”

“Because the proper noun for them isn’t pronounceable by humans, we don’t have beaks, sir.”

“Why’d you need glowing rocks?” Townes asked.

“Because the rocks were radioactive, and one of the Zilgrats we had on board at the time needed an interesting blend of chemotherapy, it’s actually really cool when…”

“Enough, ensign.” Admiral Townes cut her off, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Elizabeth…Liz. Clearly, you are your father’s kid. You are brilliant, and fearless.”

“Thank you, sir, I know dad would be happy to hear you say that.”

“I wasn’t finished. You’re also completely irresponsible, have zero regard for protocol or regulations, and think you’re always right. I’m reading that word for word from your file, your last captain made it the first thing you read in there.” Townes clicked off the hologram and sighed.

“Look, Liz, I’m not saying this as an admiral right now. I’m saying this as your uncle. Your dad, my brother, made me promise to watch out for you when he left the service, so that’s all I’m trying to do here.”

Liz took a beat before speaking.

“I understand that, sir.”

“Your new assignment has already been certified by the admiralty, and you ship out from Tranquility in two days on board the Noah.”

Liz, in the middle of rolling her eyes, actually did a double take. “The Noah? That test ship for interspecies cooperation?” That might actually change things, an opportunity to examine different species up close for extended periods of time was a goldmine of research for her.

“You need to know though, this is your last shot. Every rules, every regulation, to the letter, or I can’t help you anymore, regardless of what I promised your dad.”

Liz didn’t stop to think too hard about it.

“Deal.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the 50 years since the Human race had joined the GAIL, or the Grand Assembly of Intelligent Lifeforms, it had undergone several extreme and extraordinary changes. The first being the level of technology. In the early 21st century we got to experience communication and information technology progress by leaps and bounds, and that was managed just by ourselves. The addition of alien technology added rocket fuel to that particular bonfire. Our understanding of biological and technological sciences shot forward by centuries, as well as transportation, namely space flight. Our first interplanetary guests, the lizard like Quintins, shared their forcefield and artificial gravity specs to make interstellar travel safer for us as well.

They were, however, initially horrified at our ‘rudimentary’ first designs. There were a lot of questions like ‘you use explosives as initial propellant?’ and ‘you shot into space at faster than light speeds without any shield array?’ In retrospect, the human race should not have gotten as far as it did. But there we were, members of a collective 200 species strong, setting out into the stars to explore the universe.

Ensign Liz Collins was thinking about such things as she walked the gangway aboard the Noah, a midsized exploratory ship, the first in a new line of experimental expedition vessel. The experiment was two fold. The first, and more practical, was to test a new propulsion system the science and engineering division of the GAIL had submitted. In theory it was capable of long sustainable WARP time with a significantly higher energy efficiency compared to older models, as well as a new power core make up to keep the ship running longer between docking. Supposedly the Noah would be capable of going at least a year without a recharge.

The second, more dubious aspect of the experiment was to see how many different species handled being in close proximity to one another. The Noah’s full crew compliment numbered exactly 100, and of the 200 races in the GAIL, 25 volunteered to put 4 members each of their species on board. Meaning Liz would only see 3 other humans for potentially the next year of her life.

How exciting, she thought. Finally a chance to study what the Galaxy has to offer up close and personal.

The cast off ceremony was boring. The captain, she believed he was a member of the Mergal species, was the only reason she didn’t try to sneak out. It appeared he had a cybernetic limb above the second insect set on his abdomen, which was interesting. Definitely more interesting than the other three humans she saw in the crew line up.

Afterwards she finally made it to the science division and booked it to biotech. The lab was state of the art, next gen super computers, stasis field generators, even a gene splicer!

“Oh hell yes,” Liz said, taking it all in. “Yeah, I can make this work.”

The only thing that stood out to her, however, was the potted plant in the corner. It was about 5 foot tall, standing in a square aluminum ‘pot’, the only thing in the room that wasn’t made of metal or ceramic. Upon closer inspection, it was more like a small tree or sapling, where its vines had wrapped around one another to grow up instead of hang down, with a lush leafy canopy.

“Why is there a tree in my lab?” Liz said, mostly to herself, but apparently the tree had an answer for her.

“Because this is my lab as well.”

Liz was so startled she thought the translator would fall out of her ear.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know there were any Sprygans on the crew!” Liz dropped her stuff onto the counter and approached the tree, who she now recognized as her crewmate. “I’m, uhh, Ensign Elizabeth Collins. You can call me Liz, if you like.” She held out her hand, unsure of even how they’d shake. As she stood there, the tree pulled itself out of the pot and onto the floor, dragging soil and dirt with it as its roots retracted into its body. Outside the pot the Sprygan only stood about 3 1/2 feet tall.

“Why is your…hand(?) out?” It asked. Liz’s translator registered two questions asked, and she realized the Sprygan wasn’t sure what a hand was.

“Oh, sorry,” she said, dropping her arm, “it’s how my people greet each other. Sorry.”

Great. First new species she’s gotten to meet and she’s acting the fool. Chocking it up to nerves, she tried to get back on track.

“What should I call you?” She asked. “Any pronouns I should be aware of?”

Liz watched as a vine extended from their body and reached out to grab a photo bar and switch it on. The bar lit up with synthetic star light and Liz realized the Sprygan was eating.

“You can call me whatever is convenient for you. On Spryga only the colonies have names, and I am not there right now.”

Liz was simultaneously baffled, intrigued, and mortified. She knew this, she knew all of this, this was practically social studies 101. She had to get her footing here. Townes voice in her head was disappointedly saying ‘Last chance’ over and over again. Change of topic then.

“Why’d your people volunteer for this mission then? I thought Sprygans didn’t leave their home world for anything.”

The Sprygan looked at her a moment, or at least she thought it did. Hard to tell when it didn’t have eyes.

“We came to see how predator species behave, so as better to surpass(?) them on our home world.”

The word ‘surpass’ flagged an error in her translator. Liz tapped the earpiece she was wearing and went to the alternative translation.

[Survive]

Oh. Oh god damnit. Liz you idiot. The Sprygans were a plant based race, they weren’t hunter or gatherers, they were basically the vegetables to other species on their home planet, of course they had predators they’d have problems with.

“Yeah, uhh, that makes sense.”

Before she could make any other off handed mistakes, Liz was quite literally saved by the bell.

“Attention all hands, this is your captain speaking. The start of our year long mission begins now. You all know the purpose of this ship is to test not only our mettle, but our spirits as well. Every species, every crewmate aboard this ship is going to be tested in ways they never have before, to the utmost limits. Help each other. Stand with each other. Because together, we’re going as far as our connections can take us. Everyone, to your stations. We’re going to WARP.”

The announcement clicked off. The Sprygan climbed back into their pot. Liz sat down at her station and sighed.

It was gonna be a long year.